[The scene fades in to the locker room area of the PVW event where we
see various people milling about, performing their job functions and
the like. The camera makes its way down a long hallway and stops in
front of a door that is slightly ajar. There is an audible gulp
produced by the camera person before they very slowly open the door to
this room. Standing momentarily still, the camera person focuses on
the nameplate adorning this room and it reads "William Craven". Taking
another deep breath the camera person very cautiously enters the room
and we immediately see the ominous green figure known to PVW as
William Craven. He is sitting on a large bench, taping his wrists in
red and his rear profile is shown, his wide back, scarred and green,
tells many a tale of the wars he has waged.

The camera person positions themselves into the nearest corner of the
room as close to the door as possible, in case a hasty exit is
required. Craven, seemingly oblivious to the camera, continues taping
his wrists and begins muttering to himself, though we can no determine
what he is saying. Suddenly there are two loud knocks on the door and
the camera person jumps a bit, the view rising for a brief moment.
Craven does not react physically except to stop wrapping.]

WC: Yyyeeesss?

[A very familiar, very deep voice resonates from behind the door]

Voice: "Craven, we need to speak."

WC: Hrm?

[Craven slowly turns as he, as well as everyone in the arena,
recognizes the voice as Sinister's. Craven's face is a picture of
curiosity as he ponders what his sometimes friend, sometimes enemy has
on his mind.]

WC: Do we? By all means then, enter.

[The camera shifts focus to the door as the 6'11" frame of Sinister
ducks into the room, his face a reflection of complete concentration.
Sinister dons his wrestling gear as he strides into the room and sits
at a bench perpendicular to the one Craven sits upon. Both men stare
at one another a few moments then exchange slight head nods.]

WC: What brings you here? Not a pre-emptive strike? No, no you
announced yourself so clearly...

Sinister: "I don't know if you'll consider this topic of discussion
pleasurable, but nonetheless, before we go out there and beat one
another senseless, there are a few things I have to ask you."

[Craven, looking a bit bemused, arches an eyebrow.]

WC: Aheh. Well now, don't keep me waiting.

[Sinister rolls his shoulders, cracking his back loudly, and takes a
deep breath. He looks into Craven's eyes intently, ensuring he has the
full attention of the "Motor City Madman."]

Sinister: "Look man, I get the point of what you're trying to do
concerning Cole."

[Sinister's voice is calm and steady, a bit unexpected. Craven's eyes
nearly cross at Sin's assertion.]

WC: You do?

Sinister: "Yeah, I do. We have both been in this business long enough
and have been through enough wars to know about the psychological side
of all this. You and I both know and have personally experienced the
amount of damage Cole can both dish out and take. You and I both know
that man is willing to literally have every bone in his body broken to
achieve what he believes in: honor, respect, and diligence. I respect
the hell out of Rob Cole for that Craven, despite the numerous wars
that he and I have fought, damn near ending one another's careers a
few times."

[Craven rubs his face slowly while angling his body to the right side,
resting his right arm on his right leg and eyes Sinister with slight
suspicion.]

WC: You respect him, hrm? That makes one of us.

[Sinister chuckles once.]

Sinister: "A question. Knowing all of that about Cole, what drove you
to take it waaaaay too far when you involved Ylanna and Bobby? Is Cole
really that deep inside of that gray matter you call a brain?"

WC: Heh. Aheheh. Oh no, Sinister, you misconstrue so _completely_. You
see, it was I that targeted Cole. He fears me. He _admits_ that he
fears me. He has failed to beat me on three occasions, and taken
victory only by disqualification on a fourth occasion. He has
_everything_, including the status of former World Champion while I
sit atop the rotting husks of the careers I've ended.
As for little Bobby Cole and the lovely Yllana ... I'm lonely. I
happened upon the boy by chance and took it as an opportunity to send
his father a message both subtle and ingenious. Why, if his mother
hadn't happened along ... they might have thought me an imaginary
friend until certain details of the story rang with my signature
sound.

[A deep sigh escapes Bill and he goes back to wrapping his wrists.]

WC: He doesn't deserve them, you know. They love him. They are _loyal_
to him. Loyal to a fault...

[Sinister shakes his head slowly while exhaling.]

Sinister: "Now that's a damn shame Craven. Here you sit, a man both
feared and respected, a future Hall of Famer, an intimidator and the
finisher of quite a few careers, and you're telling me that the Cole
family's unity, love and protection for one another has gotten to you?
You're willing to cause Bobby to have irreparable mental and emotional
damage because of your envy...of Rob Cole?"

[Craven is now visibly angry, baring his teeth and speaking in a growl
as he rises, his bare feet slapping on the concrete floor.]

WC: You know NOTHING! I love children. I didn't get to raise my own!
If Bobby's scared it's because he was told to be scared! Have you seen
the video!? I had his rapt attention. He hung on my every word. If the
story I told were in print he'd own three copies.

You don't know how hard I've tried to keep all the good things in my
life, the good things that are gone! I never wanted to be this ...
this thing you see now. My Lydia wakes next to my brother every
morning. My son curses the day I gave him my name as he trains in Ohio
for no reason other than to erase me because I couldn't be there for
him.

But what of Cole? He stood up before the world and asserted that he
was the one to be feared, the _monster_, as if IT WERE SOMETHING TO BE
PROUD OF! As if it were something you could start with purpose and end
on a whim...

[Sinister crosses his arms across his thick chest, surmising Craven's
temperament as well as his words.]

WC: Feh. How could you relate ... you've no boy to idolize then shun
you. Better that he were ... never...

[Trailing off, Craven averts his eyes, seemingly ashamed. Narrowing to
slits, Sinister's own eyes seek contact to better measure the big,
green freak.]

Sinister: "You're right Craven, I don't have any children of my own,
at least not yet. I admit that I'm not strong enough to be away from
loved ones for extended periods of time, and this business requires
that, amongst many other things. [He lowers his arms and balls his
right hand into a massive fist] However, I do know how it is to love
someone more than life itself, to only have them SPIT in your face,
betray you, and make your life a huge maelstrom, causing self-doubt
and unadulterated anger!"

[Uncharacteristically of Sinister, as of late, he reveals a glimpse of
inner pain ... and rage. He notices he is breathing heavily and his
right fist is raised. His demeanor softens, he lowers his fist and
steeples his fingers as Craven eyes him cautiously. Craven visibly
calms and looks slightly amused.]

WC: You understand? It's hard to consider as true but I appreciate the
effort. So few try to see anything of themselves in their peers now.

[Sinister nods slowly a few times.]

Sinister: "Yeah, I understand a little about who you are. That is a
very nice segue for my next question, conveniently enough."

WC: Hrm?

Sinister: "Recall when I first came to the PVW and was thrust into a
war involving Widow Makers Inc., before their recent...modifications?"

WC: Of course.

Sinister: "There we stood, on the same side of the battlefield no
less, and I'll be damned if we didn't see eye to eye, if just for that
one battle. We spoke after that match Craven, not as friends, not as
enemies ... merely as men. We spoke about what we believed in, what we
wanted to achieve, and most importantly, what we wanted to be
remembered for."

[Craven focuses his gaze downward to the floor and his eyes move
slowly, sporadically, as he accesses the memories Sinister refers to.
He wipes his right hand over his bald head and nods.]

WC: You stood next to me, in spite of our past wars or perhaps because
of them. First I fought the Widowmakers, then I was pressed into
service as Lieutenant to it's Captain. Then ... heh, freedom. It's
confusing...

Sinister: "That's understandable Craven because that's how life works.
I remember you said you wanted to be remembered in this business as
someone who could withstand and overcome anything. You wanted to be
known as a man who wasn't afraid of pushing the limits ... but you
knew your limits.
You crossed that line when you brought Cole's family into it Craven,
and you know it. You are not an immoral man or we would not be having
this conversation."

WC: You speak of a time when my beliefs were different than they are
now.

Sinister: "That's obvious."

WC: I do respect you, Sin. With all the abuse I heaped upon you all
those years ago in Detroit, you still came at me, time and again. No
fear... Still, you must understand that my actions serve a greater
purpose.

Sinister: "That purpose is ... what exactly?"

WC: Isn't it obvious? To improve the state of professional wrestling
by erasing a part-time pretender to the throne of madness from it's
legacy.

[Sinister lowers his fingers and places his hands on his knees.
Pursing his lips, he looks partly alarmed, partly disturbed and maybe
just a little confused by Craven's oddly joyous-sounding assertion of
purpose.]

Sinister: "All right Craven, I appreciate the time but as you know, I
have to go get ready. I have no doubts you'll add another one of these
[Sinister points to the sizable lump on the top of his head, courtesy
of Christopher Black's title belt strike across his head] to the mix.
However, I am a man of my word and I do have one more question."

WC: And that is?

Sinister: "Are you ready?"

[Sinister leaps to his feet to come nose-to-nose with Craven who
stands his ground. Neither man wavers as they have a staring contest,
ready for battle. The 6'11", 300 pounds of Sinister and the 6'5", 320
pounds of Craven are truly an intimidating sight as they collectively
create one very large culmination of danger. After a few tense moments
Craven flashes a shark-toothed grin.]

WC: I'm always ready for violence.

Sinister: "Good."

[Without his eyes leaving Craven, Sinister takes two steps backward,
opens the door fully, nods once slightly then exits. Chuckling to
himself, Craven shakes his head.]

WC: Thank you for saying we aren't friends, Sinister. Oh, true, that
wasn't your intention ... but I'll pretend it was and that will make
it oh so much easier ... to tear you to shreds.

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





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







Fade into the PVW logo ...]






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




        ----------------------------------
          Live in Tombstone, Arizona


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




[The logo on your television set explodes!  And we are inside the
Tucson Arena.  The rabid Tucson fans show their PVW pride as
merchandise floods the arena.



PVW !!!


PVW !!!


PVW !!!


PVW !!!


PVW !!!


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

P-V-W covers the center of the mat.  We find our way to a set of
familiar faces.  On the left in a PVW polo shirt; Chip Lester.  On the
right in a Hawaiian shirt that only Charlie Sheen wears better then
him - "Fabulous" Fred Hoyle.]

CL: Tonight we have a great line...

[Yes, folks, here comes the ruckus. Eliot Lipp's "Rap Tight" (
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=puunw6YEHIA&feature=
player_detailpage#t=39s  - starting at the 39 second mark). Instead of
having the audience wait, PVW's home grown menace stomps to the ring,
with a chip on his shoulder and his blue suit, red tie and white shirt
outfit on his back. Todd Johnstone, Bubba and Evelyn follow suit as
Gibson is given the stick.]


GIB-SON SUCKS GIB-SON SUCKS GIB-SON SUCKS


GIB-SON SUCKS GIB-SON SUCKS GIB-SON SUCKS


GIB-SON SUCKS GIB-SON SUCKS GIB-SON SUCKS


GIB-SON SUCKS GIB-SON SUCKS GIB-SON SUCKS


GIB-SON SUCKS GIB-SON SUCKS GIB-SON SUCKS


GIB-SON SUCKS GIB-SON SUCKS GIB-SON SUCKS


[Bubba Hayes covers Gibson's ears and Johnstone begins to shout
expletives at the audience while Evelyn Prosser scans the area looking
for any threats.]

CL: And the Tombstone crowd, the hometown crowd of Matthew Lee
Holliday, are giving Gibson whatfor!

FH: Tombstone, Arizona, more like Tombstone, Mexoslavia, if you ask
me! These people are insulting America's Last True Hope for a Bright
Future and Better Tomorrow! Show me your birth certificate Holliday...
if that is even your real name!

CL: How much did Todd pay...

[Sadly, Chip's question is drowned out by the continued chant of the
audience. Gibson seethes and is held back by his bodyguard and head of
security, as Gibby has made a move to leave the ring.]



GIB-SON SUCKS GIB-SON SUCKS GIB-SON SUCKS

GIB-SON SUCKS GIB-SON SUCKS GIB-SON SUCKS

GIB-SON SUCKS GIB-SON SUCKS GIB-SON SUCKS

GIB-SON SUCKS GIB-SON SUCKS GIB-SON SUCKS

GIB-SON SUCKS GIB-SON SUCKS GIB-SON SUCKS

GIB-SON SUCKS GIB-SON SUCKS GIB-SON SUCKS



[And Tombstone has asked for it as Todd Johnstone grabs the mic and
takes it closer to a speaker near the ring, causing feedback.]

Todd Johnstone: Shut up you, worthless plebeians!!! Gibby, the floor
is yours.

[The 6'3" frame of Gibson is stiff with rage.]

Gibson Hayes: Will you listen to yourselves, your little chant and
your misguided belief in a dead man. The man you love, the man you put
your hopes and dreams on is dead. "Doc" Holliday has been buried and
left to be swallowed by obscurity. In his place is... Matthew Lee
Holliday. Matthew has done nothing in his life except play an extra on
that one sci-fi movie: Star Battle Trek Space 5. Matthew Holliday is
nothing. With the passing of Doc Holliday, the only man left to be
number one contender, the only man who has ever had the qualifications
of being the number one contender, The Last American Hope for a Bright
Future and Better Tomorrow, Gibson Hayes, rightfully takes his destiny
in hand.

[The audience howls at the audacity of the former Network and American
champion.  The boos slowly morph into cheers, though, as they realize
that the old adage "speak of the devil and the devil appears" has come
to pass... Matthew Holliday is walking down the aisle.  He's wearing a
tailor-fit suit, but not the 1880's style which he customarily wore...
no, this is a modern, dark grey suit-and-tie.  His wavy sandy-brown
mullet spills out of one of the two Western affectations he's kept for
himself: a black Stetson.  The other is his mahogany walking stick,
carried in his right hand as he marches down the aisle.

There's no music playing, and Gibson sees no need to stop his rant
now.  He turns and spots Holliday coming down the aisle (as the fans
clued him in with their cheering), and simply changes the direction
he's speaking in.]

GH: And what, exactly, have you done in PVW? Really, what stones have
placed in its history, in its legacy? You put down Alex Martinez? Big
deal. That had nothing to do with this place, that was a hold-over
from New York. Widowmakers? Again: New York. Have you done anything
that is relevant to PVW? Do you even realize you're not in Los
Angeles? Those ghosts won't die but that's because that was the last
time anyone thought chairs and fire were actually a good idea, certain
PVW roster folks sadly included. Do you know you're not in Dallas

playing dress up like a bunch of addled old fogies who have to play
pretend instead of forging their own identities? You are old enough to
have been alive when Toronto actually put something out! And you
certainly are a bastard, but then again, those folks are merely a
light PG rating. You're dealing with the Devil here, Matthew, but not
the devil you know. I'm the devil of the present, the God forsaken
zeitgeist. I am the rumbling underbelly of today given form. I am
PVW's very soul. No one else in this company stepped here fresh, but
unlike you relics, I very destiny is entwined with PVW. You say
Phoenix Valley Wrestling and you don't think of lingering phantoms
like Rob Cole, Bill Craven, Rick Marley, Chase Williams, Marcus
Manson, the Merc or any of those lemming Landises. No, you think of
Gibson Hayes, first, foremost and utmost.

[Holliday ascends the ring steps, having collected his own microphone.
He is about to say something but Gibson just shushes him.]

GH: Quiet, "hoss", let the truth continue. I am PVW's very first
Network/Television champion! I am PVW's last Rising Phoenix Heritage
champion! I am PVW's very first American champion! I am the only man
in PVW to hold two championships at the same time! I have bested
everyone I have come across at least once. No one holds a winning
record against Gibson Hayes! At best, they draw even, at worst they're
run out of the Valley of the Sun, ruined and in tatters! Your very own
martyr, Holliday, was laid to rest in his home state by America's
favored son! Yet, PVW refuses to make my birthright official. PVW
continues its pathetic attempt to try and stem the inevitable Gibson
Hayes-ocracy. I may not have won, but I did not lose. The only one who
lost anything was "Doc", but he lost everything. Doc Holliday was the
number one pretender, never the true contender. He is gone, replaced
by a loser who has done nothing. He's replaced by a simple man, a
lowly man, a peasant. His killer instinct is long gone and most likely
was greatly exaggerated. He met up with the Prince of Lies, the Man
who Learned from the Golden Throne, and he rolled snake eyes. Gibson
Hayes is the _TRUE_ number one contender. Matthew Holliday? He's an
afterthought. The future is now and Gibson Hayes is that future.

[Matthew Lee Holliday has an answer for Gibson Hayes.]

MLH: Gibson Hayes is a fool.

[The fans cheer the simple comeback.  Holliday now rebuts.]

MLH: Gibson Hayes wasn't gonna git anythin' by "not losin'".  Fact is,
genius, ya walked in with nothin', hadda _win_ ta git somethin', an'
guess whut?  Ya walked out with nothin'.

MLH So, ya came out, got pretty much ever' fact wrong about th' past,
an' ask whut mah legacy in PVW is?  Ya wanna run a comparison list o'
who we beat?  Ah'm pretty sure yer main quality win was done by four
othah guys.  Ah'm pretty sure ah didn't need no help ta pin Martinez,
Craven, Feyr, so on, so forth.  Led a team ta win War Games; ya
couldn't lead a man downstairs even if ya shoved him.  Yer cryin'
basically comes down ta some kinda resentment thet ah got a head start
on account of ah was already a star when ah came heah.  Is thet it?

GH: I'm surprised a punc...

[Holliday cuts Hayes off in mid-sentence.  The fans cheer that one.]

MLH: Nah, shaddap, ya already had yer time.  So ah'm gonna let ya in
on a shockin' secret.  When ah was young an' dumb, jus' lak you... ah
hadda wait in line too.  Ah hadda watch people walk in from some othah
territory with momentum they built somewhar else.  An' ah overcame
thet.  Thet's how life works, kid.  Someday, mebbe you'll be th' one
who walks in somewhar with a big name, an' ah'm just gonna guess ya
won't turn down th' nice contract an' high-profile matches.  Welcome
ta th' real world, junior.  An' th' funny thang about it, is ya almost
got th' system beat.  Almost.  All ya hadda do was wait two lousy
months fer this ta clear, an' ya coulda been Numbah One Contendah
aftah ah got done with Marley.  Ya coulda won Called Shot easy if yer
half as bad as ya say.  Right?

GH: I don't need a ca...

[Once again, Matthew just interrupts Gibson, who screams at Todd to do
something.]

MLH: Blah blah, yeah, we heard ya cry already.  So with all them great
title reigns ya had, an' all them wins ovah top contendahs... well,
jus' me, really, an' aside from relyin' on Feyr allowin' four men ta
jump me; tell ya whut, why don't we do thet match ovah?  Ah'll pick
four guys ta be at ringside, you git one, th' referee will attack yer
guy if he does anythin' an we'll have a no DQ match.  Ya already tol'
everybody thet was a fair deal, so they's no point sayin' no.  Winner
take all.  Whut say?

GH: Fi...

[And yet again, Holliday blurts out another interruption. The camera
switches from Gibson grinding his teeth to Matthew Holliday's face.]

MLH: Ah thought not.  So bottom line really is... ya hadda opportunity
an' failed...

GH: Take the goddamned marbles out of your mouth and listen you cursed
crustacean! Maybe if you weren't trying to hard to be "Money Dr...

[Gibson's angry words suddenly go silent, as Holliday simply reaches
down and unplugs his microphone from the router box on the floor at
ringside.  The crowd practically explodes for that one.

But Holliday never gets a chance to rebut, as this time it is he that
is preempted by a third party.]

RM: Blah blah blah blah blah...Jesus, Gibson, you may have learned how
to be long winded from Tyrone,  but you at least people stay awake
when HE starts selling his bull[BLEEP].

[Rick Marley has appeared at the top of the entrance ramp, his own
wireless mic held in his left hand and the PVW Heavyweight Title
draped over his right shoulder...the fans cheer for a moment for the
insult to Gibson, but shift gears into booing immediately.]

RM:   And Doc?  You can stop grinning like a jackass.  Much as the
kid's a douche, he's got a bit of a point.  You've always been a big
one, talking about not depending on your resume for props...talking
about going out and earning what you've got...not entirely sure that's
the case right now.  You're a name, and the guys in the suits think
it'd be a nice bump for business to show you trying to beat the tar
out of me...old west style, of course...for what I did to Tucson
Kid... I
may not like, Gibson, respect Gibson...or...hell...think Gibson is any
better than a two-bit opportunist, but in this case, he's a two bit
opportunist who stumbled onto a point.  No one in this company has
beaten me one on one.  I took down Bill Craven in a damned WAR.

I BURIED Rob Cole...I did just like you're saying: I EARNED my shot.
Nothing personal there, Matt... but what have you done for me lately?

MLH: Well, there's thet whole "ya haven't got in th' ring with me yet"
oversight yer makin'.  Unless ya wanna talk about War Games.  Seems
like y'all fergot thet little detail.

[Todd "The Rod" Johnstone will not be silenced for long, as the rotund
manager screams loud enough for his words to be picked up.

TJ: Listen, you camel gargling lobotomy outpatients, my boy, Gibson,
has done more than enough to earn this and that's all that needs to be
said. PVW had best get its head out of its collective ass or else I'll
bring so much litigation down on them that they'll end up having to
sell...

Putter: Mr. Johnstone, need I remind you of our agreement?

[No music, just some annoying desk jockey in a green PVW golf shirt,
awful golf pants and a jaunty little puff ball hat. It's Putter and
he's come out to get these people to shut up.]

Putter: The committee has made a decision.

[Gibson nods, mouthing: "about time" while Holliday looks just as
cocksure. Marley is aloof, but a bit of relief crosses his face
because now he'll know who he'll get to dismantle.]

Putter: At End Game, Rick Marley will defend his World Title
against Matthew Lee Holliday...


KILL'EM DEAD DOC!!!



KILL'EM DEAD DOC!!!



KILL'EM DEAD DOC!!!



KILL'EM DEAD DOC!!!



KILL'EM DEAD DOC!!!


KILL'EM DEAD DOC!!!


[The shade of red on Johnstone's face is one only seen on boiled
lobsters.]

TJ: THIS IS AN OUTRAGE! I'll sue you sons of whores for ever single
bit of this company, including Johnny Detson's smart car! I'll
throttle you se...

CL: Thank god someone cut off Todd's microphone!

FH: I... I should be writing some of these down! *scramble for pen and
paper*

[But Putter isn't finished yet.]

Putter: ...and Gibson Hayes!


GIB-SON SUCKS GIB-SON SUCKS GIB-SON SUCKS


GIB-SON SUCKS GIB-SON SUCKS GIB-SON SUCKS


GIB-SON SUCKS GIB-SON SUCKS GIB-SON SUCKS


[Marley glares at Putter for half a second, then shrugs and nods.]

RM: You know what?  Whatever. At least I know who I get to take apart
now. You all get the pleasure of seeing me not only shut up that
little pissant in the ring...

[Cheers to thinking about Gibson being beaten.]

RM: ...but also bury the rodeo-clown wannabe.

[GOODNESS GRACY GREAT GOBS OF GRANITE crowd pop-plosion!]

CL: OH MY LORD DID YOU JUST HEAR THAT, FRED!

FH: If I didn't then I never will with the way you just yelled right
next to my ear, Chip.

CL: The Championship Committee finally settled on our End Game
Championship match and it will be a Triple Threat match with three of
professional wrestling's biggest stars!

FH: I'd say the deck is stacked a bit against Holliday.  Not only does
he have to try and defeat the champion in Rick Marley.  Now he has to
keep his eyes open for America's hero, Gibson Hayes.

CL: And vice-versa, Fred!  The stakes for those three men don't get
any higher then this.

FH: Well I guess we found out everything we came to Tombstone to find
out.  Can we get out of this hell hole now?

CL: We still have a _FULL_ show ahead of us, Fred!  A tag team
championship match.  We have a End Game preview, Battle Royal.  And I
just received word just seconds before we flipped the switch to go
live on the air that Dean Hayes has finally tracked down Jason Keening
for an interview regarding his investigation.

FH: It's Jason Keening ... I KNEW IT!

CL: Well we will sure find out.  But there was _no_ better way to
start the night off then we just did.  What a blockbuster
announcement.  Tonight is going to be a historic night as we dot all
the I's and cross the rest of the T's as we head back to Phoenix for
End Game!  We have cameras at every corner.  Nothing will get past us
tonight.

FH: The female's locker room shower?

CL: Well that would be illegal.

FH: Say's who!?!

CL: Umm ... The law.

FH: Oh by the way ... What a genius idea, Chip!

CL: What's that?

FH: Have you not used the urinal's yet tonight?

CL: Umm ... No?

FH: There are Caleb Foley photo's attached to the urinal's.  So when
you take a leak you get to drain the snake all over Caleb Foley.  I
mean _GENIUS_!  It had to be a Johnny Detson idea.  What a way to
bring up moral right before our big PPV.

CL: That's just ... I have no words.

FH: All I know is keep the water bottles a coming tonight.

CL: At times like this I am thankful to get the signal to go
backstage.

[We cut to backstage where a cherry colored hooded cape comes walking
into view. Filling it out is a Mexican man in a black mask that covers
his whole head with cherry colored eye visors and a cherry colored
"SCII" on the forehead. He has black tights with Cherry colored boots
and by this point it is beyond obvious who this is.. Senor Cloak Dos!]

SCD: ... Hey!

[The small luchadore stops and turns in a direction to see "The Celtic
Crippler" Caleb Foley. Caleb turns around and sees it was none other
than Senor Cloak Dos that shouted "Hey!". Foley flashes a smile as he
begins to walk towards SCD direction. Caleb has on his green t-shirt
that say "Born Lucky" and blue jeans as Cloak Dos begins to speak..]

SCD: Madre Dios! Caleb Foley!

[Foley looks at Senor Cloak Dos a little weird. Caleb then holds up a
finger ...]

Caleb Foley:  Senor Cloak Dos what a privilege it is to finally meet
you. I have heard nothing but great things about you. And by the way
you carry yourself inside and outside of the ring you are gonna' have
a very bright future here in Phoenix Valley ...

SCD: It is such an honor to meet you, Senor Foley! It will be
something else later tonight, no? All of us amigos in the ring taking
on all the rudos in that battle royal!

[Caleb looks a bit puzzled and holds up a finger to SCD. Then Foley
pulls out a small webster English to Spanish dictionary from his back
pocket and begins to skim it ...]

Caleb Foley: I hope this will help. Sorry but my Spanish is not very
good ...

[Senor Cloak Dos shrugs his shoulders as Caleb is looking up words in
his small dictionary. After a few moments Caleb begins to speak ... ]

Caleb Foley: It will be a very tough match to win. But you have to
remember that you can not trust any of the amigos or rudos in the ring
tonight as it is every man for itself. Heck I'll admit it if I have an
opportunity to eliminate you then so be it. No disrespect to you Cloak
Dos but it is every man for himself ...

SCD: That is the way to.. Espera, QUE?!

Caleb Foley: Un segundo ... I think that means one second ...

[Foley shrugs and then goes back to that pocket dictionary of his as
Senor Cloak Dos is patiently waiting ...]

Caleb Foley: I need to win this Battle Royal to show that I can win
the Called Shot. I need to show everyone in the back that I did not
just get into the match by the luck of the Irish. This will be a great
test for me and it will give me the momentum I need going into the
Called Shot match. Sorry Senor ...

[Cloak Dos' head drops as he nods it in a sad fashion.]

SCD: Si, Senor Foley. Entiendo. I understand completely.

Caleb Foley: But I wish you luck in the Battle Royal. I need to go get
ready for the Battle Royal. It was great to meet you Dos and if you
ever want to hang out or need a tag team partner then I am your man.
You can count on The Celtic Crippler ...

[Foley extends his hand and shakes hands with SCD.]

Caleb Foley: So excuse me Senor and I'll see you later on tonight ...

[Dos waves.]

SCD: Ok, Senor Foley! It was good to meet you!

[After a while the luchadore's wave falters and he hangs his masked
head sadly and walks off, sighing.  We cut right to the ring for our
first match of the evening.  Standing in the center, The Voice!]

HD: Being accompanied to the ring by Emylee Marie Bermudez Cruz ...
they hail from Veracruz, Mexico ... and weigh in at a combined four
hundred and six pounds ... they are ...

LOS CORAZONES !!!

[Three figures walk out from the backstage area. The first is a petite
woman who is attired in a skin tight white dress with a plunging
neckline revealing her golden brown skin, her long red hair flows past
her shoulders and sets a strong contrast off of the white dress. A few
steps behind her walk Los Corazones, Blanco and Rojo. Blanco has a
white mask with a red heart upon it and white full length wrestling
tights while Rojo has a red mask with a white heart upon it and red
full length wrestling tights. Upon their waists are the golden ASLL
Campeon Nacional Parejas tag team championship belts.]

CL: Los Carazones look ready for war as they walk down the aisle!

FH: This is gonna be an old fashioned brawl. I don't expect to see
many scientific moves in this one!

[HUGE pop as The Prophets appear in the aisle way, and attack Los
Corazones from behind!]

CL: It appears the Prophets don't care to wait for the bell and want
and early advantage against Los Corazones!

FH: Its a very sound strategy, don't let them find any footing.

[Derek pairs of with Blanco, Shadoe with Rojo. The crowd is in a
frenzy as the four men brawl around the ring.]

CL: Things have already broken down and the match hasn't even
officially started.

[Shadoe stuns Rojo with a low blow and Implant DDT's him on floor!]



"_____TTTTTHHHHHUUUUUDDDDD!!!!!_____"



FH: Implant DDT on the arena floor, and Shadoe is now rolling Rojo
into the ring while Derek and Blanco continue to brawl around the
ring! Shadoe with a cover! This could be over already!



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

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

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


*DING*DING*DING*



!!! ONE !!!




!!! TWO !!!




CL: Rojo is not done yet! He rolls a shoulder at two and a half, and
Shadoe pulls him up and into a hammerlock.

[The hammer lock quickly becomes a side-headlock and Rojo backs him
into the ropes, shooting him off the other side. Rojo leapfrogs the
charging Shadoe, then drills him in the draw on the rebound with a
standing dropkick. Rojo drops a leg across the throat and makes a
quick cover.]



!!! ONE !!!


FH: early cover by Rojo only gets a one count. Rojo hits the ropes and
ducks the lariat attempt by a rising Shadoe, then springboards off the
ropes to spike Shadoe with a springboard DDT! A quick springboard
moonsault follows and Rojo with another cover!


!!! ONE !!!



!!! TWO !!!


CL: at least he got a two count this time. Derek and Blanco are still
fighting outside the ring. Derek with a gorilla press, and he drops
Blanco face first across the guardrail! That was vicious.

FH: More sound strategy. Derek climbs onto the apron, and now Rojo has
no one to tag!

CL: It doesn't matter right now! Rojo is taking the offense to Shadoe!

[Rojo hits the ropes and gets clubbed in the back of the head by
Derek. He stumbles forward, and Shadoe drills him in the draw with the
Dirge!]



"_____SSSSSMMMMMAAAAACCCCCKKKKK!!!!!_____"



CL: Superkick by Shadoe Rage! The master of cheating have taken back
the momentum.

FH: There's nothing wrong with doing whatever it takes to win. Shadoe
makes the tag to Derek and the big man is licking his chops as he
climbs into the ring! Derek grabs Rojo and shoves him into his own
corner, but Blanco has not recovered enough to make the tag. And now
Derek is mocking Rojo, I love it!

[Derek lifts Rojo into the air and drops him  snake eyes on the
turnbuckle. Derek hits the opposite ropes and as Rojo rebounds,
Derek obliterates him with a mafia kick!]


"_____SSSSSMMMMMAAAAACCCCCKKKKK!!!!!_____"


[His head landed somewhere in the rafters Pop!]

CL: Jesus what a devastating kick by Derek Rage. This is gonna be a
short match if Blanco doesn't make it onto the apron.

FH: The Prophets have simply proven themselves on step ahead of Los
Carazones! Derek shoves Rojo into Shadoe's corner and distracts the
referee as Shadoe chokes him with the tag rope! Brilliant!!

[Rojo stumbles out of the corner and gets drilled with a lariat by
Derek. He makes the tag to Shadoe, who climbs to the top rope, and
drops a huge elbow across the throat of Rojo!]


"_____TTTTTHHHHHUUUUUDDDDD!!!!!_____"


[Huge air pop!]

CL: HUGE flying elbow drop by Shadoe and he holds for the pin!


!!! ONE !!!




!!! TWO !!!




[Blanco appears and barely makes the save before climbing onto the
apron, yelling encouragement to his partner!]

CL: Blanco is alive after all and this one is not over yet!! Shadoe
makes another tag, and Derek is laughing at Blanco on the apron as he
stalks Rojo!

[Derek throws Rojo into the turnbuckle and charges in for a avalanche
but Rojo dives out of the way and makes a hot tag to Blanco, who
springboards at a stumbling Derek Rage and bounces his head off the
mat with a bulldog! Shadoe storms into the ring and catches a spinning
heel kick to the jaw!]

CL: Blanco is on fire! He's taking it to both prophets at the same
time!

[Rojo rushes into the ring and takes Shadoe and himself to the floor
with a big clothesline!]

FH: Both Rojo and Rage just flew out of the ring and hard to the
floor.

[Blanco clips the knee of Derek Rage and he drops to one knee. Blanco
rebounds off the ropes, and jumps off of Derek's own knee to rock his
jaw with a shining Wizard!]


"_____SSSSSMMMMMAAAAACCCCCKKKKK!!!!!_____"


CL: Devastating knee to the face by Blanco and Derek could be out!
What impact! Blanco with a standing moonsault and he hooks the leg!
The crowd is going crazy!



!!! ONE !!!




!!! TWO !!!




[HUGE kickout by Derek Rage sends Blanco flying, but he's once again
all over the much bigger Derek Rage as he pulls himself up. He tries
to throw Derek off the ropes but he reverses the whip, but Blanco
ducks the attempted bicycle kick, and suicide dives between the ropes
to the floor, taking out Rojo and Shadoe Rage in the process!]

[Shocked huge spot pop!]


"PVW!!!"	"PVW!!!"	"PVW!!!"


"PVW!!!"	"PVW!!!"	"PVW!!!"


"PVW!!!"	"PVW!!!"	"PVW!!!"

CL: Blanco just took out Shadoe and his own partner with a suicide
dive out of nowhere!

FH: He took himself out too!! Now Derek is headed to the outside, and
he yanks Blanco up and throws him into the ring! Now Shadoe is rolling
Rojo into ring as well! The ref immediately tries to force Shadoe and
Rojo out of the ring but they are resisting!

CL: All hell is breaking loose!

[Derek yells something at Pizazz and she quickly climbs onto the top
rope as Derek hits the Bombshell on Blanco, he bounces backward off
the top rope and Pizzaz leaps off the top rope and spikes him with the
Headwrecker! She dives out of the ring, and Shadoe tackles Rojo as the
ref turns around just in time to see Derek making the cover!]


"_____SSSSSMMMMMAAAAACCCCCKKKKK!!!!!_____"



  "____TTTTTHHHHHUUUUUDDDDD!!!!!_____"


CL: Bombshell followed by a Headwrecker! Are you kidding me! what the
hell is Pizzaz doing interjecting herself in this match anyway!
FH: She didn't get caught so it didn't happen! Haha! Derek with the
cover!!




!!! ONE !!!




!!! TWO !!!




!!! THREE !!!



[BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!]

CL: He got him! The ref is calling for the bell as the Prophets steal
on here! what a sham!

FH: That was an awesome display of teamwork by the Prophets and
Pizazz. Tag team wrestling at its finest.

CL: The Prophets with a huge victory heading into End Game where they
are set to take on Hollywood by Night.

FH: They just needed this one victory to get them back on track.  The
Gateway to the PVW tag team division is back Jack!

HD: The winners of the match.  THE PROPHETS OF RAGE !!!

CL: It was a big victory and what a way to start the inring action
here tonight.  However speaking of tag teams, Dean Hayes is standing
by with The Heat.

[Backstage - "Swingin'" Dean Hayes is in khakis and a pink Hawaiian
shirt in front of a PVW background. With Dean are group known as The
Heat. PACO Magnon is wearing a full copper colored robe with white
feathers while Maxime is wearing a copper warm up jacket with white
piping. MAGIC is dressed in a magenta tuxedo jacket with matching
pants, a powder blue ruffled shirt and LED flashing spinning red bow
tie. Standing off to the side is Florine Walker-Davies, who is dressed
in a black and white horizontal striped off the shoulders sweater,
tight ankle length dress with a slit far up the right leg (up to the
hip), a red bandana tied around her neck, her blond hair falling down
beyond her neck, and a beret tilted to the right.]

DH: With me is none other than The Heat, who come into tonight looking
to settle a score and come out on the winning side of a 6 man tag
match with their partner, "Misery Machine" Marcus Manson.

[Arvelle "MAGIC" LaFayette grabs the hand Dean is using to hold the
microphone and pulls it towards himself.]

AML: Weenie Deanie, you done said too much; assuming all this crap an'
spewing it out'cher damn mouth. You hold that microphone right here,
right where I can work my MAGIC. And you listen, you listen here good:
ain't no one out there that don't know what the situation is between
the magnificent mass of muscle and masculinity that is PACO Magnon and
Maxime Jean-Baptiste! You've seen what the Heat can do, even when
facing cowards hiding behind masks. The Heat was robbed and
hornswaggled but are we mad? PACO, are we mad?

[Magnon, hair in a pompador, Tom Selleck like black mustache and 5
o'clock shadow, strokes his chin.]

FGMIOM: No.

AML: Maxime, are we mad?

[Maxime flexes and snorts.]

MJB: Nah.

[Florine Walker-Davies looks like she is about to say something,
removing the cigarette filter from her mouth. She thinks about it,
then goes back to making smoke rings.]

AML: Hell, Florine don't even think Max and Sal are worth talking
about and, believe you me, this little lily of the southern states
usually done talk up a storm and a half! But, no, the Heat ain't mad.
Not at all. The Heat are _FURIOUS_!

[Arvelle, his slight frame absolutely swimming in his tuxedo, raises a
hand up and produces a playing card from seemingly out of nowhere.]

AML: But what'cha didn't count on is that the Heat ain't looking for
revenge. Nah, it ain't that simple. The Heat are going straight for
_PAYBACK_! Revenge is like a big ole bottle of cheap booze, something
you chug down to make yourself feel better when things ain't going
your way. Payback? Payback is like two fingers of smooth bourbon. You
pour yourself some of that and you savor it, making sure it lasts for
a helluva long time. Dig that, Maxy and Sally? You understand what
mess you done got yourselves into? I reckon you don't. Ya see, you
only know a few parlor games and the like, even though you done been
in the big leagues for awhile now. I'll let'cha in on a little secret.

[A look to the left, and a look to the right, and Arvelle holds the
back of his right hand up against the side of his mouth, as if telling
the camera something very private.]

AML: A good magician always got another trick up his sleeve.

[A flick of the wrist and Arvelle LaFayette produces a flash right
into the camera lens.]

AML: If'n y'all don't watch yourselves, ya'll gonna end up being gone
in a flash, jus' like that. Tonight the "Misery Machine" Marcus Manson
done got himself a nice tall order of some of that European fancy,
smancy wine while the Heat gotta weak bottle of Manischewitz an' one
of them no drinking sorts. Seems like a weak order ta me, and I sure
as hell know that alcohol can evaporate if you apply enough HEAT to
it. Y'all just watch, it's gonna be a HOT ONE in Tombstone ta-night!
C'mon, we gotta score ta even up!

[Arvelle snaps his fingers and the Heat exits stage left.  We cut back
to ring side and Herk Douglas is back inside the ring.]

HD: Ladies and Gentlemen, at End Games two of the most feared men in
PVW history will face off. The Monster Under the Bed takes on the
Motor City Madman. Rob Cole versus William Craven! This ... is the
CONTRACT SIGNING!

#I'm over it!#

*BOOM!*

[The name "Craven" forms on PVW's big screen out of a reverberating
red line usually associated with sound mixers as "Forsaken" by David
Draiman plays.  The green man beast comes to the ring wearing black
vinyl slacks, red gauze on his hands and feet, and a black ring robe.
Brandishing his bo'ken, he poses for the crowd before turning, waiting
for his opponent at End Game.]

CL: There's William Craven, quite possibly the most vile man in the
history of professional wrestling.

FH: Why? Because he told a kid a story?

CL: Because he manipulated the child and wife of a man whose life he's
sworn to destroy!

FH: Hey, it was a good story.

[The audience suddenly starts to jeer as Rob Cole appears in the
aisle, his shoulders trembling. His face is pale and he keeps his eyes
on the ring as he walks... he ignores the audience reaction, flinching
back from the few hands that reach out to touch him. There's no music,
no real fanfare, and a drink actually hits him as he reaches the ring
steps. There he stops and turns to face the people who were cheering
him on only a few weeks ago.]

FH: Rob Cole... I can't believe I was actually scared of this guy at
one point. Look at him, Chip... he's a beaten man. Broken! Oh, this is
just perfect... we finally see him for the coward he is, yellow streak
and all. I love it!

CL: Former multiple-time champion in so many companies, a man who has
survived wars and brutal matches. Tonight, he's being forced to enter
this ring, to sign this contract, to face a man he simply fears and
who is holding his family hostage with threats. Rob Cole is willing to
leave with his tail tucked between his legs, but that just isn't good
enough for Craven!

FH: Craven wants to prove that Cole never deserved his success. It's
not about scaring him off, it's about taking his legacy. I think. I
mean, it's not always easy to understand what Bill's driving at.

[Cole takes a deep breath and steps between the ropes, approaching the
table and the hulking form of a green-skinned lunatic monster. His
eyes are dead as he stares at Will Craven, his features pale, and the
ring announcer places the microphone on the folding table between the
two men.]

CL: An uneasy silence here. Is ... is Craven smiling?

[Cut up close on Craven's craggy green face. True to form, Craven's
mirthless smirk fades and he glares at Cole in disappointment.
Reaching down, Craven takes the microphone with a jerk.]

WC: Aheh, fine, I'll start. How do you feel tonight, Robert? Yllana
made it clear that you've been feeling a bit under the weather. I was
afraid you wouldn't make it in for your _shift_, part-timer. Must be
nice ... I mean, if you've got the sniffles ... your mommy can just
call off for you.

[Still numb, Cole makes no response.]

WC: I don't think you understand what has gone before, Robert. From
before the time when the first salvo was fired I had intended for this
to be a war of escalation. A war from which only one of us could
possibly emerge. Speaking my bravado I sought to bring you out into
the open where I could finally end this groundless myth of the ...
soft little big man and self-styled monster. Those are the essential
details, Robert. Set everything aside and you're a man who's not had
to sacrifice all to live his dream and a man who chose to be a monster
for more than a decade ... while SOME of us try every day not to be
... and fail.

[Giving off a forced grin that raises the tendons in his bull-thick
neck, Craven's voice actually cracks with feeling. Perhaps sadly,
given his choice of words, Craven looks more inhuman and terrifying
than ever with this expression of emotion.]

WC: But you did show up for work, and so that's at least one thing you
needn't be ashamed of. True, you let your wife and son wander the
halls with your enemies and failed to protect your son when Yllana
_somehow_ lost track of him. I watched him and kept him safe, Robert.
Think about that. The only thing keeping back the darkness ... was me.
The least twitch of conscience could have let that slip away, the
curtains fall, and the only result of Robert Cole's genetic imperative
becomes a tear-stained memory in the family scrapbook.

[Cole flinches from Cravens words, turning his head away as he is
unable to meet the big man's gaze. He swallows hard and doesn't accept
the microphone. The audience begins to boo loudly, and a loud echoing
chant can be heard to start in the front rows.... "COOOOWWWWARD!
COOOOWWARRD!"]

WC: I guess that makes me ... the hero in all this ... doesn't it,
Robert?

*tunk*

[Dropping the microphone on the table, Craven grabs up the contract by
it's clipboard and uses the attached pen to scratch his meandering
signature across half the page before flipping the board back at
Cole.]

WC: There. Make it official, won't you? You've wasted enough time
already, haven't you?

[Cole reaches across the table after Craven signs and stands, picking
up the pen. He stares at the contract for a moment... stares at
Cravens' signature and he slowly lifts the pen and quickly scrawls his
name. The audience continues to boo as Craven stands with a smile--

WC: Your time, my time, the fans and, of course--

[AND GETS NAILED BY ROB COLE!!! The crowd explodes as Craven's hand
instinctively flies up to cover his eye.]

FH: HOLY CRAP!!!! Rob Cole just STABBED that pen down across the
forehead of William Craven! What the hell... ??!?!?!!!

CL: Cole just repeatedly stabbing that pen, dragging William Craven
over the table as the big man flails!

[Rob Cole is absolutely ERUPTING on Craven... and the big man is
caught off balance for the first time in months, his feet kicking as
Cole just yanks him up and across the table! The blood is quickly
flowing as Cole tosses the ruined pen away and suddenly forces Craven
over... face down! He double chicken-wings both arms and suddenly
hauls up... and snaps Craven DOWN!!! And now he goes for the
microphone...]

RC: *huff... huff.... * My... son.... MY SON?!?!?!! Five years old...
you rot-gut piece of filth! Five years old ... he can't sleep at
night. He's afraid of you...he's afraid of what you will do to his
daddy... he's afraid of what you will do to his mommy, you sick piece
of... *Cole suddenly chokes on tears, tears that fall freely. He sucks
in a breath and weeps for a split second before continuing... * He's
afraid of what you'll do to him. And you know what?!?!! YOU KNOW
WHAT?!?!?!! I am... I am! And that means I have to stop you.... It
means I have to be what you want me to be.

[Cole turns the dazed and bloody Craven over, leaning in to stare into
his eyes... One of them gruesomely oozes, the left one, it's top lid
split almost to his brow.]

RC: No... no no no... Not what you want. Look at me, Craven...

LOOK

AT

ME!!!

[Cole presses his forehead against Craven, closing his own eyes as he
begins to speak.]

RC: I... am the monster beneath your bed. I'm the creeping fear you
thought you left behind. I'm the horror, the blood, the madness, and
the suffering... you wanted the worst I could be and that's what you
are going to get.

[And then Cole leans up... and licks the blood from Cravens' wound.
Somebody in the sound truck gets the memo and "Ramatahatta" plays him
out.]

CL: Good lord! Robert Cole opens the floodgates and puts William
Craven down! I've never seen anyone do that to Craven, Fred!

[In the ring, Bill flails blindly, struggling to keep his uninjured
eye open while searching for the microphone with his free hand.]

FH: But look at what he had to do! Stabbing? Really? This is
wrestling, Chip, not fencing. This goes against the spirit of the
sport!

CL: And Craven has an actual match later tonight.

FH: This wont stop the Motor City Madman, Chip.

WC: ROBERT!

[Willing himself to a vertical base, Craven now covers both eyes with
one hand and slumps forward over the top turnbuckle a corner facing
the entrance portal.]

WC: Aheh, thank you, Robert! Thank you for, for trying, Robert! The
key to instilling fear in someone is that they must have something to
lose, Robert!

[Rubbing hard at his uninjured eye, Craven now seems able to see
although his pupil is dilated to nearly fill it's iris.]

WC: I sleep on a concrete floor, Robert!

[Flooding the ring, medical personnel and members of security try to
attend Craven.]

WC: Back! Back, vultures! This is nothing! NOTHING!

[Staggering, Bill half rolls, half falls between the top and middle
ropes, thudding on the apron and staggering up the aisle to the back.]

WC: Nothing compared to WHAT WILL COME AT END GAME! IT GETS WORSE! IT
GETS WORSE!

[Taking his hand away from his gushing eye and forehead, Craven glares
into the camera; a scene from a horror movie. As he bellows his split
tongue flops out from between his sharpened and partially missing
teeth.]

WC: IT GETS WWWOOORRRSSSEEE!!!

[Cut to the announce table where Chip and Fred sit in horrified
silence.]

CL: I don't know what to think, Fred.

FH: It's been less then an hour already and End Game has gotten a huge
boost already.  Man the PVW marketing team has to be thinking they
just hit the lottery.

CL: Rob Cole has had too much.  And the Outcast is back!

FH: I don't think the Outcast was ever _gone_.  We were just able to
look deeply into the soul of Rob Cole.

CL: I have followed Rob Cole's career for a number of years.  I can
honestly say that it didn't look like the Rob Cole I knew the last few
months.  HOWEVER ... _tonight_ looked like the ROb Cole of old.  At
End Game we will finally see these two juggernauts collide.

FH: Oh hey can you hand me another water bottle.

CL: ...

FH: What?

CL: While things are getting back in order at ring side let's go
backstage once more.

FH: Nice it gives me time to down this water.  It's like a kid waking
up on Christmas!

[We cut to backstage where once again we see the hooded caped masked
man we know as Senor Cloak Dos. His slightly hanging head reads as if
he is feeling a little down. But then..]

"Amigo!"

[The luchadore's head perks up and he turns in the direction of the
voice to see AsH with a large smile on his face walking up to Cloak
with a hand out.  The Cruiserweight Icon is adorned in his black
"iCON" t-shirt and a pair of  jeans. His spiky brown hair is
glistening, as usual and the bruises on his  forehead appear to have
healed from the last show]

SCD: Senor AsH! Amigo!

[The two men slap hands together into a hand shake and Cloak's body
language seems more positive now. He nods his head many times.]

SCD: How are you doing, amigo? How is the familia?

AsH: Good, my friend. Good. We missed you last week for the bar be
que. It would've been a big help to convince the wife that I'm not
getting too injured by my return to the ring. She thinks the
chairshots and whatnot are starting to affect me. But I just had to
explain to her that sometimes walls are thin... [AsH looks directly
into the camera for a second before turning back to SCD] and that's
all.

[Dos nods his masked head.]

SCD: Well.. If everyone is well that is very good to hear!

AsH: And this Battle Royal... the wigs that are big really must be
enjoying seeing us in the ring together. And the prospect of the two
fastest rising stars on the roster facing off, that's gotta be making
them salivate. Dollar signs flashing in the eyes and all that... but
hey, who are we to question such things now. When it comes right to
it, if it's just you and me left, you do what you do, I'll do what I
do, and if that happens to be launching you over them ropes? So be it.
No hard feelings, amigo.

SCD: I agree with.. Espera, QUE?!

AsH: Oh, come on Dos! My singles career has been less than stellar and
let's face it, unless I start buying velcro tights I really need to
get a little headway going. I'm not lucky enough to have your youth
and... otherworldly mass appeal. I tell you, I haven't seen an
immigrant take America by storm like this since Elian... or that Taco
Bell dog. Or Obama. HA!

SCD: Que?

AsH: Sorry, watching too many Trump press conferences... Birther.
Ha...

SCD: QUE?!

AsH: Nevermind, Dos...

SCD: Si, last show.

AsH: I mean, don't sweat the match or anything. Chances are I'll be
lying on the outside counting the lights and listening to my
braincells die before you even realize I'm gone. But if that time
comes and it's you and me, don't hold anything back. 'Cuz you know I
won't.

[Dos's head sinks lower than it was when we saw him earlier. He nods
in a sad fashion.]

SCD: Well.. You have to do what you have to do.

AsH: That's the spirit. And chin up, bud. We'll catch a few Dos Equis
afterwards.

[Dos nods his head and the two men slap hands into a handshake again.]

SCD: Por su puesto, Senor AsH. Amigos por siempre!

AsH: Well, being a bit older these days, I gotta get myself properly
iced, stretch, and taped. Can't have a gimpy Icon walking around now,
can we?

SCD: Ok, amigo. See you out there tonight. Adios!

[AsH walks offscreen and Dos's head drops lower and he walks offscreen
himself, sulking through his body language all the while.]

CL: I think we are all set for our next match so let's go to THE
VOICE!

FH: A music magazine representative is here?

CL: ...

[We cut to Herk Douglas in the ring.]

HD: Ladies and Gentlemen the following contest is scheduled for one
fall with a twenty minute time limit!

FH: Does he usually mention time limits?!

CL: I think he just needed something fill out what he was saying
there.

FH: What? WHAT?!

CL: Just.. Just go with it.

FH: Have you been watching your wife sleep around with other people
again?

CL: ...

[Mass Hysteria's "Failles" resounds in the building, which is enough
of a clue as to who's arrival is awaited to have the fans start
booing. He doesn't care, though, that "Deathless" Perry Fontana. He
steps out on the stage, head cloaked in the hood of his robe,
oblivious to the hateful fans.]

HD: ...from Montreal, Quebec, Canada, and weighing in at two hundred
and fifty three pounds...

[The Everlasting One stomps down to the ring, burly, rugged and
callous, then stamps up the ring steps, and slips between the ropes.]

HD: "The Everlasting" ...

!!! PERRY

FONTANA !!!

[The man Italians call "Il Eterno" removes his inflamed phoenix
patterned orange, revealing his lush black hair, gravity-defying
muttonchops, his dimpled chin, but most remarkably, the murderous look
in his encircled eyes.]

CL: What an evil and disgusting man this is!

FH: Woah! What the Blah Blah are you going on about Chip?

CL: Fontana has corrupted that sweet young lady that is unfortunately
his wife and used her to strike out at a man he could not defeat one
on one!

FH: Chip, I know you are still a little hurt by the fact that your
wife will give a Twinkletoes dancer dance lesson to anyone with time
that you don't give to her...

CL: ...

FH: But do not DARE distort the reality of what has happened!
Fontana's wife got SICK of being a Landis and all the horrible,
horrible EVIL that is associated with that and has finally seen the
light!

CL: How do you sleep at night Fred?

FH: With my eyes closed and sometimes with my head resting on your
wife's bosom.

CL: ...

[The sounds of approaching helicopters comes over the PA system. They
get louder and louder getting almost deafening, and then get quieter,
as if they were passing overhead. Just as they fade away to nothing,
machine gun bursts take their place. A few seconds later, a whistling
sound is heard, and then...]

*BOOM*

*BOOM*

*BOOM*

*BOOM*

[BIG POP]

[Four large explosions rock the arena, one right after the other. A
large smoke screen engulfs the entranceway, blocking it off from view.
Just as the smoke reaches its maximum density, "Die Hard the Hunter"
by Def Leppard comes blasting out through the sound system.]

FH: I know this is slightly off topic..

CL: Oh boy..

FH: But this entrance it reminds me of that Vietnam War play in the
movie Rushmore.

CL: *sighs*

HD: And his opponent... Hailing from The Bunker.. Weighing two hundred
and sixty five pounds... Here is.... THE MERCENARY!

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

FH: And continuing with the movie thread, and I am pretty sure I have
probably mentioned this before...

CL: Maybe you shouldn't mention it again then.

FH: (ignoring Chip) But with ferrets and stuff, Merc is reminding me
of the Beast Master a bit.

CL: (ignoring Fred) What an action packed match this should be!

FH: Hey! Do not ignore me like you ignore your wife! That is what has
led to your current problems in your home life, Chip!

CL: I.. I...

FH: It's alright, Chip. Everybody hurts, sometimes.

[A very thin referee with dark hair, tanned skin and a thin mustache
goes to check both men for weapons.]

CL: Hmm.. I'm being told the referee is Pete Hernandez.

FH: .. Who the HECK is Pete Herandnez?! I've never seen him referee
here before!

CL: Apparently he use to play soccer for an indoor league then
transitioned to a brief career as a pro wrestler on the independent
circuit and is now trying to become a referee.

FH: Wait.. Wait... Soccer?! Indoor League?!! What are you talking
about?

CL: It.. It's what I've been told.

FH: Do they know this is PRO WRESTLING?!

[Hernandez seems satisfied that neither man has weapons and then he
calls for the bell..]


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

PVW - HEATWAVE - ONE ON ONE MATCH
The Mercenary v. Perry Fontana

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


*DING*DING*DING*

[POP]

CL: AND THIS MATCH IS OFFICIALLY...

FH: STOP! Hold up! You are NOT Charles Morgan and you are not using
that line!

CL: But.. But...

FH: No Buts!

[A surly and pissed of looking Fontana comes out to greet a surly and
pissed off looking Mercenary in the middle of the ring and both men
lock up and begin pushing one another around the ring aggressively!
They go into the ropes and jockey back and forth for advantage but
referee Hernandez runs over and begins quickly demanding a break. Both
men break off the lock up but Fontana goes for a right hand which Merc
blocks and responds with a right hand of his own which sends Fontana
staggering back!]

[POP]

CL: Big right hand by Merc there!

FH: ILLEGAL right hand, Chip!

[Hernandez winces, grabs his face and then shakes his finger at
Mercenary about the right hands. The veteran ignores the small referee
and goes to grab Fontana but the Deathless One grabs Merc's arm and
goes for an arm bar but the man looking to break Chance McKenzie's
face in counters with a Three Stooges Eye Gouge.. That Fontana blocks
with the edge of his hand!]

FH: Ha Ha! He was prepared for that one!

[Mercenary then goes for the double eye gouge but Fontana anticipates
this and has the double block in place!]

FH: Ha Ha Ha! I Love It!

[But the veteran only FAKED the double eye gouge and as Fontana, and
Hoyle, bask in the glory of the double block, Mercenary hits Fontana
with a knee to the midsection doubling him over!]

[BIG POP]

FH: HEY! That.. THAT'S...

[Merc grabs Fontana by his Mutton Chops..]

[HUGE POP]

[Then rears back and BIG head butt sends The Phoenix to the canvas!]

[GIANT HECK YEAH WOO WOO POP]

CL: Fontana thought he was clever but The Mercenary has been around
too long and has seen too much to get outsmarted here!

FH: I.. That... You.... AIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!

[Fontana scrambles to his feet, even MORE ticked off looking now, only
to get caught with a right hand. Merc grabs Fontana by his head and
then hits a Snap Suplex which he then follows up with an Elbow Drop to
the throat!]

[POP]

[The veteran then goes for a cover, a somewhat non-chalant cover.
Referee Hernandez leaps into position and begins the count... ONE..
But before it gets to TWO, Fontana grabs Mercenary's arm and rolls up
out of the pin attempt into a Fujiwara Armbar!]

[BOOOS]

CL: What a counter by Fontana out of that pin attempt!

FH: What gives with this referee? Is he a Nancy boy?

[Referee Hernandez grabs his hair and winces as if in phantom pain,
then he shakes it off and asks Merc if he wants to give up. The
veteran shakes his head no and quickly lunges for the ropes which he
gets.]

[POP]

[Hernandez pops to his feet and crowds over the grapplers and shakes
his finger emphatically ordering Fontana to break the hold. Fontana
glares up at the referee while releasing the hold. Fontana gets to his
feet and seems to threaten the referee, in French of course, but
Mercenary is on his feet and spins Fontana around and gives him a boot
to the midsection followed by a DDT.]

[BIG POP]

CL: Fontana has to stay focused on the match or Mercenary will eat him
alive in there.

FH: First off, I did not know Mercenary was a cannibal. That explains
why he does the line of work he does with all the payoffs and stuff. I
would imagine getting human meat is expensive.

CL: That is not what I..

FH: Secondly, how can anyone focus on something when they have the
fire, the never ending thirst, for kicking Landis ass?!

[Mercenary rams Fontana face first into the turnbuckles then pulls the
former Network and Tag Team Champion out of the corner and hits a
neckbreaker! Fontana grabs his neck as the veteran drops down to cover
him for a pin attempt but Fontana is out of the attempt before ONE.
Fontana rolls to his feet only to be greeted by a right hand..]

FH: All these illegal right hands in this match.

[The man who has a price goes to grab Fontana but Il Eterno catches
Merc's arm and twists it then sends the veteran back first into a
corner. Still holding onto the arm Fontana hits a shoulder thrust and
then wraps the arm around the top rope and applies torque.]

[BIG BOOS]

CL: Look at the viciousness and intensity in the eyes of Fontana!

FH: He's no doubt envisioning Landis as the owner of the arm he is
trying to destroy here.

[Referee Hernandez rushes over and waving his arms in the air, almost
in a panic, orders Fontana to stop this tactic. Perry flashes a glare
at the small referee who then begins a count a on the Deathless One, a
very, very fast count!]

CL: Fontana better break this hold!

FH: This referee SUCKS!

[But at the count of four Fontana, clutching Merc's wrist, leaps over
the top rope to the floor outside hyper extending Merc's arm!]

[OUCHIEEEEEEEEEEEEEE PAIN POP]

FH: Yowza!

CL: EGADS!

[Merc rolls around near the corner holding his arm, kicking about in
obvious pain. Referee Pete Hernandez grabs his face and makes a Scream
(ie Munch painting) expression of phantom pain and then shakes his
finger at Fontana who climbs back into the ring with an angry
expression on his face.]

FH: OK, Chip, what is the deal with this referee?

CL: I don't know, Fred. He's a young, new referee.

FH: Why is he so.. so.. Sucky?!

[Fontana scrambles over to his opponent and drops a knee on the
shoulder of the man with a price. The Phoenix then yanks the veteran
up and hits a European Uppercut sending Merc into a corner. Fontana
pulls Mercenary out of the corner and puts a hammerlock, then scoops
his opponent up and slams him down with a Hammerlock Scoop Slam!]

[BOOS]

CL: Fontana really going after that arm..

FH: DUH! We've only seen him go after the arm like.. EVERY SINGLE
MATCH HE'S BEEN IN EVER!

[Mercenary grabs his arm and winces in pain but Fontana is on him. He
goes for a Fujiwara arm bar again but Merc rolls towards the ropes
quickly. The Deathless One pops to his feet and yanks the tough man to
his feet and hooks the arm and.. ARMBAR TAKEDOWN!]

[BOOOOS]

CL: This crowd is not enjoying this!

FH: Mercenary is not enjoying this!

[Indeed the veteran looks to be in some fair amount of discomfort, to
say the least. Fontana, intense anger in his eyes no doubt directed at
Landis through Mercenary, attempts to put the Cross Armbreaker on his
opponent but Mercenary struggles and gets his feet on the ropes.
Referee Hernandez shakes his hands in the air frantically calling for
the break.]

FH: This referee is really rubbing me the wrong way.

CL: He is definitely unique so far.

[Fontana releases the hold and glares at the referee who jumps back, a
little startled, and points to his shirt though looking scared the
whole time. Perry shakes his head and then yanks Mercenary to his
feet. The veteran fires off a right hand which Fontana replies to with
a HARD shot to Merc's shoulder which causes the vet to grab his arm
and wince in pain. Fontana then applies a wristlock, forces the
veteran to bend forward. Then the Deathless One scissors the arm and
puts a facelock and.. ]

*THUD*

[AIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE POP]

FH: YES!

CL: Cauterizer Wristlock Arm Scissor DDT by Fontana!

FH: He's going to have Mercenary right here, Chip!

CL: He just might!

[Fontana quickly transitions into the Cross Armbreaker once again!
Mercenary winces and grimaces from the pain and referee Hernandez
grabs his own arm, shakes his head in phantom pain, then asks
Mercenary if he wants to give up. The veteran shakes his head "No".]

CL: Mercenary is holding on in there! He's not giving up yet!

FH: That is because he is STUPID, Chip!

[Merc tries to battle up to a seated position but Fontana forces him
back down and pulls on the arm harder. The Man with a Price almost
yells out but bites his lip and grimaces from the pain. Hernandez once
again asks him if he wants to give up but Merc shakes his head "No"
yet again. Merc struggles to a semi-seated position and begins to
throw right hands desperately at Fontana's legs!]

[POP]

CL: Mercenary is fighting to get out of this hold!

FH: He's fighting against destiny!

[Fontana snarls as he raises one of his legs and kicks the veteran in
the head sending Merc down but also breaking the hold.]

[BOOS]

[Il Eterno scrambles to his feet and yanks Mercenary to his feet, puts
a hammerlock then hits a Hammerlock Belly to Belly Suplex! Mercenary
rolls around holding his arm, his face a mask of pain. Fontana glares
at his opponent, probably seeing Landis in front of him rather than
The Mercenary, then he pulls the former UEW Ultimate Champion to his
feet and applies another hammerlock but Mercenary fires a back
elbowsmash to break the hold!]

[POP]

CL: The Mercenary isn't finished yet!

[Fontana staggers back, then the Man with a Price kicks him on the
shin which sends the Deathless One grabbing for his leg while hopping
on one leg!]

[BIG POP]

FH: That is just WRONG!

[Mercenary runs off the ropes as Fontana curses at his leg and then...
NEARLY FOLDS FONTANA IN HALF WITH A HUGE RUNNING SPEAR!]

[GIANT POP]

FH: AIEEEEEEEEEE!

CL: What a spear by the Mercenary! That has to have put him right back
into this!

FH: AIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

[Fontana grabs his midsection as he lays on the canvas while Merc
grabs his arm and grimaces from the pain. Then the man missing his
Haliburton scrambles to his opponent, grabs ahold of one leg and goes
for a Jack Knife Roll Up!]

[BIG POP]

CL: Pete Hernandez has leaped into position...

FH: Hernandez SUCKS!

CL: The count.. ONE!   TWO!

[BOOS]

FH: YES!

CL: Fontana kicks out!

FH: BWAHAHA!

[Mercenary grabs his arm and grimaces from the pain as he rolls to his
feet. Fontana struggles to his feet, still holding his midsection from
that big spear by his opponent. The veteran boots the Phoenix upside
the head then hooks him by his head. Merc grits his teeth then yanks
Fontana up in the air.. Tries to hold Fontana up in the air.. But his
arm gives out.. AND HE HITS AN UGLY BOTCHED BRAINBUSTER ON FONTANA!]

[HECK YES SUPER DUPER POP]

FH: EGADS!

CL: Mercenary's arm gave out and it caused that attempt at the Payoff
to drop Fontana really awkwardly on his head!

FH: He's pretending he couldn't hold him up there, Chip! He tried to
KILL Fontana on purpose! DISQUALIFY HIM!

[Mercenary scrambles for the cover after that ugly brainbuster and
Hernandez leaps into position... ONE! TWO! Fontana kicks out!]

[BOOS]

FH: Now are they booing that Fontana kicked out or that Mercenary
couldn't keep Fontana down?

CL: Ah... Blueberries laced with sedatives?

FH: ... Fantastic Mr. Fox is a great movie but now is not the time to
reference it.

[Mercenary shakes his arm but it only brings pained expressions on his
face, while he gets to his feet. Fontana struggles to his knees. The
last DWO National Champion yanks his opponent up, grits his teeth then
hits a right hand. Fontana staggers back but then fires off a HARD
right hand of his own! Merc looks TICKED OFF and he rears back to
smash another right hand on his opponent but as he does so his elbow
almost hits referee Hernandez and the referee... GRABS HIS CHEST,
makes a pained expression, THEN GRABS HIS FACE AND DROPS TO THE GROUND
ROLLING AROUND AS IF HE IS ON FIRE!]

[WTF IS GOING ON POP]

CL: ....

FH: ... What is this, Chip?!

CL: I....

FH: The Mercenary's elbow didn't even make contact!

CL: It was close but yes.. As we can see in his slow motion replay the
Mercenary's elbow doesn't even make contact!

[Sure enough, in slow motion we see Merc's elbow does not touch
Hernandez, much less his chest which he grabs first and then his face
as he falls to the ground where as we return to live action he
remains, rolling around crying out as if he was in HORRIFIC pain!]

[LOUD BOOS]

FH: This HAS to be the only time we let this guy referee!

CL: I imagine it will be!

[Both Mercenary and Fontana stop to watch Hernandez roll around as if
he was stuffed into a glass coffin filled with poisonous spiders or
having to have read such a scenario. Then Mercenary turns to Fontana,
they look at each other for a moment, then Merc DECKS the Deathless
One with a HUGE right hand.]

[BIG POP]

FH: DISQUALIFY.. Oh, DAMNIT! Our wimpy referee is pretending to be
hurt!

CL: It is truly a unique scene!

[The crowd's cheers for Mercenary decking Fontana turn to MASSIVE LOUD
BOOS as from the back come the duo of Jessica "Fatality" Marshall and
Chance McKenzie!]

FH: YES! This  is more like it!

CL: What are these two coming out here for?!

FH: Because our diving referee has created the opportunity for it!

[Mercenary hears the crowd and turns to see the duo making their way
to ringside. The Man who longs to get his Haliburton back, takes a
look at the referee still selling death from non-elbow to the face,
then slides out of the ring and grabs the ring bell then slides back
into the ring.]

[BIG POP]

FH: Oh No! Someone stop that sissy referee from his playacting!
MERCENARY HAS A WEAPON!

[Marshall & McKenzie yell angrily at the Mercenary who pulls Fontana
up in a corner. Merc in turn points at McKenzie then holds up the ring
bell hen..]

M: This could be you!

[POP]

[Mercenary then rears back with the ring bell and goes to CLOBBER
Fontana with it.. But Fontana catches Merc's arm and the two struggle
out of the corner, struggling over the ring bell!]

CL: Fontana has to have the advantage here since Mercenary's arm has
been worked over so much earlier.

FH: Someone needs to wake up this referee so he can see Mercenary
trying to CHEAT his way out of having his arm ripped out!

[Fontana, noticing Hernandez is still acting as if on fire, takes the
moment to KICK MERCENARY SQUARE IN THE GROIN!]

[HUGE BOOS]

FH: YEAH!

CL: This is a travesty of justice!

FH: If by that you mean Fontana should pick up the ring bell and
clobber Mercenary with it, I agree!

[As if he heard Hoyle, Fontana does pick up the ring bell that the
doubled over Mercenary dropped. He raises it up in the air and
CLOBBERS Mercenary with it! The veteran slumps to the canvas and
Fontana scrambles for the cover, yelling at Hernandez to get up.
Marshall & McKenzie also yell at the referee. Hernandez peekaboos out
from his hands, notices the cover, then springs to his feet as if
nothing was wrong with him..]

[GIGANTIC BOOS]

[Then rushes over, and goes for the count..]

ONE!

CL: No! This isn't right!

TWO!

FH: YES!

THREE!

CL: NOOOO!

*DING DING DING*

[HATE YOU SHAKE THE UNIVERSE ANGRY BOOS]

CL: This is ATROCIOUS!

FH: Atrocious?!

CL: Yes! Fontana has STOLEN this with the help of Jessica Marshall and
Chance McKenzie!

FH: You'd rather Mercenary stole this with the help of a diving
referee and the ring bell?!

CL: PVW needs to NEVER use Hernandez again!

FH: On this I DO agree with you, shockingly!

HD: Here is your winner.. PERRY FONTANA!

[As the crowd BOOS, Marshall and McKenzie laugh at their adversary,
The Mercenary. Mercenary rubs his head and glares at them. Fontana
looks.. pissed off! He grumbles about still thirsting for the kicking
of Landis' ass when suddenly.. THE CROWD LOSES THEIR MINDS GOING APE
NUTS BONKERS because Tom Landis comes tearing down the entrance way
towards the ring!]

[MASSIVE POP]

CL: Here comes Tom Landis and he looks like he is ready to KICK
PERRY'S ASS!

FH: He WISHES! Ha!

[Marshall & McKenzie begin beating a retreat to the back because they
see a flood of officials coming out after Landis and jumping in
between him and the ring. Fontana glares at Landis while Mercenary
rolls out of the ring and begins to chase after McKenzie & Marshall.]

CL: Mercenary is chasing Fatality and Chance to the back!

FH: Looks like something is fixing to blow up here though between
Fontana and Landis!

[Landis is held back by members of PVW security as Fontana smirks,
daring him to try and make another move.  Finally giving up the
attempt to cut through the humanity, Tom reaches down to ringside and
motions for the microphone.]

TL: You know Per, long after I gave up trying to find an ounce of the
decent human being my sister saw in you... you managed to surprise me
again.  But it's not so much what you did, it's just what you are.

[Perry smirks again, as security loosens its grip a little.]

TL: And what you are is reprehensible as a human being.  Now, that's
not the surprise.  The surprise is, you _are_ what appealed to my
sister, Emily. Warts and all.  Spewing this garbage about family, when
it suits you.

[Now this, Perry takes to heart.  His demeanor turns deadly serious,
as it would appear Tom has managed to push his buttons.]

Fontana: LA FAMIGLIA VIENE PRIMA! La _MIA_ FAMIGLIA!

[A mushroom cloud of spittle floats down to the canvas as Fontana
obtains a microphone of his own.]

Fontana: Ouais, _my_ family comes first, cousin! And a strong family
is lead by the strongest _man_. A caring, _loving_ man that can
provide romantic love... and TOUGH love, to beat the black sheep back
into the herd, aaah ouais! This family needs to be lead by a _MAN_,
not an embarrassment like you!

[The Everlasting One cocks his head, caresses his left muttonchop with
the back of his hand, then continues...]

Fontana: A strong family is like a _tree_, cousin. And if a _man_
wants that tree to grow STRONGER, ouais, then he has to know which
branches are _diseased_, which branches need to be CULLED!

[That... is one load of crock the fans aren't buying.]

TL: Is that what you call it when you attack your poor elderly uncle
for daring to disagree with you?  Is that what you call it when you
coerce your wife into turning her back on her own family?  Don't
worry, after last week I finally get it.  Em's a big girl, she can
make her own choices.  I hope for her sake she doesn't come to regret
her decisions, but at this point there's not a goddamned thing I can
do for her.  You, on the other hand... there's a hell of a lot I can
do.

Even though I beat you at Tradition, I don't feel like I've gotten
enough of you.  How about it, one more time, mon frere?

Fontana: Oh, so now you're getting COCKY, are ya, _cousin_? Beaten me
once, so now you've deluded yourself into thinking you could do it
again? It would take you a HUNDRED matches to repeat that _upset_, and
you're the only one that doesn't realize that, yet.

But sadly, _brother_, a regular ole victory couldn't _satisfy_ me
anymore...

TL: Exactly what are you getting at, Fontana?

Fontana: Now, you know better than anyone that a fluke loss isn't
going to stop me. I'm the _man_ that stuck DEATH in a Chinese finger
trap not once, not _twice_... but SIX! _TIMES_!!!

[As the spittle floats down before him, Il Eterno shakes his head.]

Fontana: No mere _meatball_ can STOP me, cousin!

...But I've been around you long enough to know that you won't _quit_
any more than myself.

So what I want now, is for _your_ WIFE to _quit_ on YOU!

[The Deathless One makes a towel throwing gesture with his left arm.]

Fontana: A towel match, cousin. Aaaah ouais! In my corner, my
beautiful wife Emily, the mother of my unborn child. In _your_ corner,
your promiscuous wife Tara, the mother of your... daughter...
_allegedly_...

[A smirk.]

Fontana: Je veux qu'elle lance la serviette, Tom! I want her to give
up on you! I want her to ADMIT that you're not the _man_ in this
family, and THROW in the TOWEL!

[Fontana grins... an almost lecherous grin...]

TL: It's not the first time and I'm sure it won't be the last, but
your ego's clouding your judgment.  _MY_ wife has been in this
business almost as long as I have, my trust in her is absolute.
_YOUR_ wife, on the other hand, seriously has no idea what you do in
this ring.  And what's worse? She has no idea what I'm capable of
doing to you, family or no family. Perry, you're on.  See you at End
Game.

[Tom drops the microphone, and security makes sure he leaves the ring.
Within the squared circle, Fontana is immobile, suddenly paralyzed
with doubt... It appears as though Landis' words struck a chord,
planted a seed...]

CL: Can Emily Landis hold on to a towel longer than Tara Marshall
could? I don't know, Fred. What to you think?

FH: All I know is that Tom Landis trusts his wife way too much. I mean
waaaay too much. Especially with other men. Many, many other men.
Chip... I'm saying Tom Landis is a cuckold.

CL: Yeah, I got it. Yet another edifying editorial from Fabulous Fred
Hoyle.

[We cut yet again to backstage where yet again, it's that small
Mexican masked man in the hooded cape walking around with a lowered
head, Senor Cloak Dos.]

SCD: *sighs*

[Cloak glances up then stops and does a double take.]

SCD: Madre dios! MASKED MANIAC!

[The camera pans a short bit to reveal the latest incarnation of the
Masked Maniac standing there in a blue jogging pants with white
stripes down the side of the legs and a blue windbreaker with white
stripes down the side of the arm sleeves. He nods his head towards the
luchadore.]

MM: Yo! What's up man?

SCD: You are the Masked Maniac!

MM: Yes, I am.

SCD: You are a LEGEND here in Lucha Libre de Phoenix Valley!

[Maniac seems to ponder this a bit.]

MM: I.. Am not sure PVLL is as cool an initial as PVW but.. YES..

[The masked man tries to strike an impressive pose.]

MM: I am a legend.

[Dos nods his head excitedly.]

SCD: It is a GREAT honor to meet you, Senor Maniac!

MM: No problem man. I understand that I am sort of a big deal. It is
one of the hardships of this business but.. Someone has to do it.

SCD: Wow! You are muy valiente, Senor Maniac!

[Maniac nods his head.]

MM: Yes, whatever it is you said. I agree.

SCD: I am glad I ran into you!

MM: Oh?

[Maniac nods towards Dos.]

MM: Is something the matter, son?

SCD: Well, I have been kind of down lately. I disappointed my little
fans and was not able to qualify for the Called Shot match.

MM: That is completely understandable. You know, the being ashamed of
yourself for little kids down thing.

SCD: Oh, si Senor Maniac. I agree I am most shameful for that.

MM: As long as it is understood.

SCD: Si, si. Then after letting all the fans down, I find myself in a
scramble match against many opponents on the End Games pre-show to
determine the number one contender for the TV championship.

MM: And.. This makes you.. sad?!

SCD: No, I am muy feliz to be in the match.

MM: O... K...

SCD: But I worry I will only disappoint my fans again and then tonight
I am in this big battle royal and I want to be confident but..
Everyone I run into tells me they are going to throw me out of the
match. AND THEY'RE MI AMIGOS!

[Maniac nods his head for a while, stroking his chin all the while
then he motions to the luchadore.]

MM: If I was in that battle royal.. I would throw you out too.

SCD: Exactly, I totally... Espera, QUE?!

MM: Or better yet, if something happened where you could not make it
to the match I would try to take your place.

[Dos' head sinks down again.]

SCD: Por que? Why would I not be able to make it?

[Before Maniac can answer...]

*SMACK*

SCD: ARRGH!

*THUMP*

[Christian Copeland appears out of nowhere and drills Senor Cloak Dos
with his trusty rusty companion SMACKY!]

CC: YOU WON'T BE ABLE TO MAKE IT BECAUSE I DON'T FEEL YOU DESERVE IT.
You treat wrestling like a joke, and I'm not gonna share a ring with
you anymore! I've tried to send this message several times now, but
you are to stupid to get it. Get out of PVW Dos, you don't belong!

[Maniac stares dumbfounded at what is going on before he seems to wake
up and he points a finger at Copeland.]

MM: HEY!

[Copeland flashes angry eyes up at Maniac.]

MM: Masked BRO's before HO's!

[Maniac LUNGES for Copeland.. Only to eat an Enziguiri Kick! Masked
Maniac rolls away offscreen, clutching his head. Copeland glares in
the direction Maniac rolled off in before returning his angry gaze at
Dos and kneeling down over the luchadore.]

CC: Understand me yet senor? Do you understand the seriousness I am
trying to convey to you? You either leave on your own, or Smacky and
myself make sure that you go back to Mexico in a bodybag! COMPRENDE
BENDAJO!?!

[Copeland takes the handle of Smacky and begins CHOKING the luchadore
with it! Dos flails and kicks around wildly! Things are looking bad
until a swarm of officials and security rush in separating Copeland
from the masked man who lays on the ground, one hand on his throat,
the other around his ribs, and a nasty cough emitting from him.]

CC: DON'T SHOW UP TONIGHT MOTHER[BEEPER]!!! I'll KILL YOU!!!

[The camera zooms in on the masked Mexican who continues to writhe in
pain and then we cut away to...]

FH: See this is what happens when you walk around bugging people
Cloak!

CL: I don't know that he was --

FH: Of course he was.  And he finally got what he deserved.

CL: Who knows what condition Senor Cloak Dos will be in after another
shot from Smaky.

FH: Masked Bro's before Ho's, Chip.

CL: Poor Masked Maniac ended up on the wrong end himself.

FH: He usually does.

[We cut backstage where Dean Hayes is hurrying with his microphone in
hand trying to catch up with somebody.]

DH: Marcus Manson ...

[Heavy breathing as the Misery Machine stops and turns around glaring
down at Dean Hayes.]

DH: You seem to be heading towards the entrance ramp for the big six
man action tonight.  After what the PVW American Champion did to you
and your up and coming Championship title match.  What can we expect
here tonight?

[Marcus Manson stands glaring down at Dean Hayes ...  Hayes holds the
microphone towards the Misery Machine but nothing comes from his
lips.]

DH: Hersher von Donkerhardt isn't 100% but has decided to ignore
doctors orders and step inside the ring here tonight.  Any comments on
that?

[Again the Misery Machine's eyes tell it all as he glares towards Dean
Hayes.]

DH: Well you seem focused here tonight.  Good luck at your -

[Before Dean Hayes can finish, Marcus Manson turns and continues
heading down the hall way.]

DH: match at hand ...  Well guys it looks like Marcus Manson is going
to do his talking inside the ring.  Back to you.

[Cut back as Brightly colored lights of all colors kick up in a
darkened arena. They spin faster and faster as Ferry Cortsen's "Fire"
starts up.]

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

[Instead of Herk Douglas, the voice of Arvelle "Magic" LaFayette is
heard on the PA.]

AML: And now for the moment y'all been waiting for; the moment that
will stir the loins of your grand mammy in the nursing home and your
daughters with minds wanting to roam. Gentleman, lock up your wives,
baby girls and moms, because it is about to get hot in Tombstone with
a whole mess of HEAT coming down to the ring!

[The audience starts shouting for Sal and Max.]

AML: Introducing, from the fantasies that stir the loins of your
daughters, sisters and wives, at a woman pleasing, lady teasing, wife
stealing 505 pounds; from WA-HA-KA, ME-SI-CO, the latin lover that has
your woman screaming his name and no other... *deep breath*
FranciscoGabrielMaximillienIsadoreOsorioMagnon

[Holy crap, that's one long name.]

AML: ...aka "EL MACHISMO MAGNIFICO Y GUAPO" PACO MAGNON! And his
partner, the Miami Mauler, the South Florida Steel Deal, the piece of
beefcake that has your woman drooling from north and south... this is
MAXIME JEAN BAPTISTE!

[The duo stand behind Arvelle, who is in a white suit with bolo tie,
then nod their head before...]

AML: And with this duo of destruction, this combination that will put
all the ladies on their backs in this great nation, is me, the maestro
of the microphone, the sultan of sweet nothings and the grand poo-bah
of hoop-lah, I am MAGIC! But that ain't all folks, we've got the buxom
boom-boom that'll make you swoon-swoon, the hills and valleys that
will tighten your pants way in advance and the curves that will make
you want to swerve, this is the lilting flower, the lily of the
wrestling world; get up and cheer Miss Florine!

[Dressed in a yellow gown with a frilly umbrella, Florine teases with
some thigh then hides her blond headed visage behind that umbrella.]

AML: Ladies and gents, remember if you play with the Heat, you get
yourselves a nasty burn!

CL: Perhaps Arvelle "Magic" LaFayette will be able to get Marcus
Manson to talk.

FH: The time for talking is over, Chip.  Tonight is the last show
before End Game.  There is no reason to answer Dean Hayes annoying
questions anymore.

CL: Well I guess we are about to find out what is going through the
mind of the Misery machine.

FH: You never want to dip into the mind of the Misery Machine.

["Rooster" by Alice In Chains hits the PA system.]

HD: And their partner ...  Weighing in at 295 pounds.  Wrestling out
of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.

[BOOOOO!]

... The Misery Machine

Marcus Manson !!!

[And a red strobe-like effect goes off swirling around the entrance
way.  And out steps the six foot 9 / 295 PVW wrecking machine
otherwise known as "The Misery Machine" Marcus Manson.  The fans
continue to give him the thumb downs and he stands towering glaring
towards the squared circle.

As Alice and Chains rock the PA system he begins to head down the
aisle way with a rapid pace.  Time for talking is over and the Misery
Machine quickly makes it to the ring and dives under the ropes and
joins his corner and his partners, The Heat.]

CL: We saw Manson at most vulnerable last week when von Donkerhardt
actually made him tap out by accepting the challenge.

FH: All he had to do was ask.  Manson _never_ turns down a challenge.
And he _never_ tapped out.

CL: That's not how I saw it.

FH: Look at those eyes, Chip.  I wouldn't mention tapping out _ever_
again to, Marcus Manson.

CL: You may have a point there.

FH: You aren't the smartest co-host, but you are growing on me.  I'd
like to keep you around a bit longer.

CL: Aww ... Thanks man.

FH: Don't start acting like a girl on me now.

HD: And their opponents ...

[HUGE POP!]

... Weighing in at a combine weight of 512 pounds.  Wrestling out of
New York, City ...

[The Fans drown out Herk Douglas by shouting the names of their
favorite tag team.]



M A X   A N D   S A L ! ! !



[ROARING POP!!!]


["Rock the Casbah" by the Clash hits the PA system as Arvelle "Magic"
LaFayette points at the entrance way telling the Heat to destroy these
two.   And out steps the fan favorites Max Weinrib and Salih Mubarak!
The fans are going wild giving the two men a warm welcome to
Tombstone, Arizona.   They begin making their way down the aisle way
as they slap as many hands as possible on the way.]

CL: Max and Sal are becoming two of the most popular wrestlers in the
PVW.

FH: I don't know why.  What have these two morons done?

CL: Quite a bit.  They were moments away from winning the tag team
titles at Rise From the Ashes II.  They defeated Gibson Hayes and Doc
Holliday.

FH: Like I said ...

["I Remember" by Low starts playing over the sound system of the
arena. The audience starts to cheer, although they have never heard
this entrance music before, they know who it must belong to. From the
entrance way emerges the man known as Herscher von Donkerhardt clad in
his trademark brown trunks with black leather lining on the inner
thigh, black boots, and newly won PVW American Championship belt,
around his waste. The audience starts to cheer louder as the Dutchman,
comes down the entrance way.]

#I remember every number #

[Herscher eyes are icy blue, and he has a stone faced look of
determination on his face.]

[People along the aisle way reach for his hand, and Herscher slaps a
few of them on the way to the ring.]

#I remember graduation #

HD: And his opponent coming down the aisle. He is originally from
Utrecht in the The Netherlands, but now calls Phoenix, Arizona home.
He is the "The Netherlands Submission Machine", and reigning PVW
American Champion Herscher von Donkerhardt!

[FACE POP!!!]

[Herscher goes up to the ring steps.]

#I remember painted faces#

[Herscher gets in the ring sees Manson and starts to charge in, but
the referee is right there holding up the stop sign.]

#No they couldn't believe #
# It was you I knew #)

CL: It appears referee, Jay O'Riley was ready and put a stop to a
premature beginning to the match.

FH: A premature beginning ... I am not ashamed to admit that has
happened to me a few times in my younger days.

CL: ...

FH: What it happens to the best of us, Chip.

CL: No comment ...  And it appears Max and Sal are talking some sense
into their partner.

[Marcus Manson is daring the PVW American Champion to "come on".
However Max and Sal are standing in front of their injured partner.
Finally some order is restored and Sal and Maxime Jean-Baptiste of
Heat are starting the match off.]


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

PVW - HEATWAVE - SIX MAN ACTION
HvD, Max and Sal v. Manson, and The Heat

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


*DING*DING*DING*


CL: Maxime Jean-Baptiste and Sal Mubarak look ready to lock up as the
bell sounds, but the grapple turns into a Maxime Jean-Baptiste
Headlock.

FH: Heat have some revenge to give Max and Sal.

CL: How so?  They were beat fair and square.  And if anyone has
revenge to dish out it's Max and Sal after being hit with the HIT CUP.

[Jean-Baptiste tightens his headlock every time Sal struggles, but
Mubarak manages to counter with a hammerlock, floating into a double
leg trip. Sal rolls across Maxime Jean-Baptiste back and tags out to
his partner Max Weinrib.]

FH: Look at that chicken!

CL: Max and Sal working together in the early moments of the match.
And Weinrib rushes into the ring and _PLOWS_ through Maxime Jean-
Baptiste!

[POP!]

[Weinrib backs Jean-Baptiste into the ropes with right hands, then
whips him across. Max takes the Heat member to the mat with a hip toss
and as he gets up, he runs right into an arm drag from Max. Weinrib
fires up the crowd, then charges at Maxime Jean-Baptiste as he tries
to pull himself up in his corner but the cunning Jean-Baptiste hits
with a drop toe hold onto the second turnbuckle, then rolls off to the
other side of the ring.]

FH: Quick thinking by Maxime Jean-Baptiste.  And look at Magic on the
outside full of smiles.  What a swell guy!

CL: Swell for a weasel.

[Maxime Jean-Baptiste's partner, Paco Magnon holds Weinrib against the
second turnbuckle while Marcus Manson pounds away on him. The two play
innocent once Maxime Jean-Baptiste stops distracting the referee and
approaches his opponent, putting the boots to him.]

FH: What's Donkerhardt's problem?

CL: Geez I don't know.  Perhaps the actions of both Heat and Marcus
Manson?

[Jean-Baptiste tags out to his partner Paco Magnon, despite Marcus
Manson wanting to get in the ring more. Manson looks down but Arvelle
"Magic" LaFayette tells the big guy to calm down.]

CL: Manson looked to take exception to not being the one tagged in.

FH: Manson wants to hurt his opponents here tonight.  Can't say I
blame him after last Heatwave.

[Paco Magnon steps in while Maxime Jean-Baptiste locks Max Weinrib in
a double chicken wing and starts blasting away at the face, then the
ribs with right hands. Jean-Baptiste lets go of Weinrib but the damage
has been done.]

FH: Great double team by the Heat.  These guys are ripe for a huge run
here in the PVW.  Livestock and Ohno Ow might have a good challenge on
their hands soon.

CL: Both the Heat and Max and Sal are two of professional wrestling's
up and coming tag teams.  Their match at End Game is going to peak
into the future of tag team wrestling.

[Paco Magnon backs Max against the ropes with forearms to the face,
then takes a moment to let Sal and Hersher von Donkerhardt know what
he thinks of them.]

[BOOOOO!]

CL: Paco Magnon isn't making any friends.  Even Marcus Manson doesn't
look impressed.

FH: Manson doesn't like any body.  Magic has his boys ready to fight.
Don't worry about a thing, Chip.

[He then turns and whips Max off the ropes but drops to the mat,
allowing Max to jump over him and bounce off the opposing set of
ropes. Paco goes for a leap-frog over Weinrib, but Max stops short and
allows Paco Magnon to land right in an inverted atomic drop for a good
pop from the crowd.]

CL: BIG COUNTER BY MAX!

FH: Just a small mis-step.  Nothing to see here.

[Max Weinrib quickly takes a step back and goes for a thrusting mafia
kick but El Machismo Magnifico Y Guapo manages to catch it. Magnon
jerks Weinrib's leg causing him to fall on his back. Magnon goes for
the figure four but gets shoved off into the corner and accidentally
tagging in big Marcus Manson as he bounces his own head off of
the top turnbuckle.]

[HEEL POP!]

CL: Marcus Manson wasn't expecting to be tagged in but he is ready and
stepping over the top ropes!

FH: Look at Donkerhardt he wants in the match so badly.  He is
actually _BEGGING_ Weinrib to make the tag.

CL: And Marcus Manson is standing there pointing for Max to make the
tag!

[FANS CHANT HVD!  HVD!  HVD!]

Max stands across looking at HvD and Sal.  The fans continue their
chant and Max walks over and tags in the PVW American Champion.]

[ROARING KICK HIS ASS POP!]

CL: Listen to these fans, Fred!

FH: They are cheering Donkerhardt's death.  What a real American town
Tombstone is.

[HvD is clearing outsized but that doesn't stop the PVW American
Champion.  The two men don't waste any time and lock up with HvD
floating behind his larger opponent for a rear waistlock. Manson tries
to reach behind himself but can't reach the Netherlands superstar.
Manson decides to charge backwards, slamming Donkerhardt back-first
into the turnbuckles to break the waistlock.]


"___CRUUUUNCH___"


FH: That will do it.

CL: You have to wonder with every big blow in this match if it will
take Hersher von Donkerhardt out of End Game and even worse end his
wrestling career.

FH: We can only hope.

CL: FRED!

[The Misery Machine turns around and starts putting the boots to HvD.
Manson whips Donkerhardt into the opposing corner with such might
that he bounces off the turnbuckles and staggers back into the middle
of the ring where he's blasted with a huge clothesline. Manson makes
the early cover.]


!!! ONE !!!




!!! TWO !!!




CL: No!  Donkerhardt is full of fight and kicks out.

FH: Stupid move.  Give up the win tonight and save what's left of that
body for End Game.

[Max and Sal now cheering their partner on as Heat watches on.  Marcus
Manson grabs HvD and whips him off the ropes but this time HvD ducks a
clothesline attempt.]

[SMALL POP!]

CL: Donkerhardt on the rebound!  Spins around ... GERMAN SUPLEX!


"___THUUUD___"


... He is holding on and going for a second!


"___THUUUUD___"


[POP!]


FH: What the heck is going on!

CL: Don't watch now Fred but he is setting up for a _third_!

[Manson blocks the third attempt, and breaks the hold with a low blow.
Manson then executes a jawbreaker on Hvd to break the hold altogether.
Manson gets up and HvD makes it to his feet he adds further insult
to injury and executes a overheard German release suplex on HvD.]


"___THUUUUUUUUUUD___"


FH: Now that's how you do a suplex, Chip!

[Manson waits for HvD to get up before measuring him for a running
kneelift to the face.  The Misery Machine now walks up to
von Donkerhardt, stares at Max and Sal and hits the PVW American
Champion with a legdrop. The Misery Machine makes the cover again,
this time keeping his eyes on Max and Sal.]


!!! ONE !!!




!!! TWO !!!




[KICK OUT POP!]


CL: The PVW American Champion isn't done!

FH: And neither is Marcus Manson.

[Marcus Manson pulls Hersher von Donkerhardt up and repeatedly drives
his knees into the champions ribs.  The Misery Machine whips
Donkerhardt off the ropes again and ducks down for a back body drop
but HvD stops short and hits Manson with a hangman's neckbreaker. Both
men pull themselves back up leading to HvD, getting his second wind,
bouncing off the ropes for a running attack. Manson grabs HvD and
throws him in the air for a flapjack but HvD comes out of nowhere with
a bulldog.]

[COUNTER POP!]

CL: LOOK AT THAT!

FH: Get in there Heat do something!

[Before Manson can fully regain his composure, the PVW American
Champion catches him with an exploder suplex!]


"___THUUUUD___"


CL: Donkerhardt is a suplex machine and injured or not he is showing
it here tonight!

[von Donkerhardt crawls to his corner unlike the Misery Machine and
makes the tag to Sal Mubarak.]

[TAG POP!]

FH: See von Donkerhardt didn't want anymore of the Misery Machine.

CL: This is a tag team match, Fred.

[Sal up onto the top rope and dives off taking the big Marcus Manson
down with a missile dropkick, getting a big pop from the crowd.
Sal Mubarak pulls Manson up and goes to whip him off the ropes
but Manson reverses. Mubarak ducks under a big right and hits a flying
body press.]

CL: Manson starting to have some trouble in there and Sal gets up
quickly and nails Manson right in the sternum with an elbow
drop. Sal makes the cover!


!!! ONE !!!




!!! TWO !!!




[The pin is broken up by Maxime Jean-Baptiste. Max Weirnrib enters the
ring and breaks into a brawl with Maxime Jean-Baptiste while the PVW
American Champion, Hersher von Donkerhardt comes in and knocks Paco
Magnon off the ring apron. Maxime Jean-Baptiste takes control of his
brawl with a knee to the gut, then hits a few clubbing blows to the
back.]

CL: von Donkerhardt now attacks Maxime Jean-Baptiste from behind but
takes a rake to the eyes.

FH: Serves him right.

[Maxime Jean-Baptiste turns around right into an European uppercut by
Sal, turning him right towards Donkerhardt who gives him a back body
drop over the top rope.]

[POP!]

CL: And out goes Maxime Jean-Baptiste!

[Max Weinrib bounces off the ropes and dives through the ropes taking
out Paco Magnon while von Donkerhardt steps right back out asking for
the tag to finish off Manson.]

CL: And Sal abides!  Just long enough for him to step back out and go
after Maxime Jean-Baptiste!  The Heat and Max and Sal are on the
outside going at it.

FH: Donkerhardt shouldn't even be out here.  This is such crap!

[Arvelle "Magic" LaFayette is screaming at Max and Sal on the outside.
Donkerhardt whips Marcus Manson into the corner and charges towards
him but the Misery Machine throws up his boot, only for HvD to stop
short and let the boot fall back to the mat. HvD hits Manson with a
dropkick, then plants him with a running bulldog.]

CL: Things are starting to look grim for Manson.  Meanwhile on the
outside Heat and Max and Sal are brawling all around the area.

[Manson stumbles up and right into the Belly to Back Crossface
Chickenwing known as Birth of Tragedy Suplex.]


"___THUUUUUUD___"


CL: And Manson was just sent down with _another_ big suplex.  This is
starting to become a theme.

FH: A suplex can't keep the Misery Machine down, Chip.

CL: No .. But that might!

[COULD IT BE POP!?!]

[HvD locks Manson into the Will of Power, Crossface Inverted Indian
Deathlock!  The fans roar as Manson refuses to tap.]

CL: Could this be over!?!  Could Manson tap out for a _second_ time?

FH: There you go again, Chip.  Well maybe the Putter can come back ...
I guess he isn't all bad.

[The hold is broken up by Paco Magnon.  He slowly pulls HvD up as  he
is joined by his partner, Maxime Jean-Baptiste.  The crowd boo as Heat
begins to work over the PVW American Champion.]

FH: Now your talking!

[HELL YEAH POP!]

CL: AND HERE IS MAX AND SAL!!!!

[The Ref attempts to regain some order but its too late.  HvD trying
to shake the cob-webs as the four men brawl around him.  Max goes for
a big clothesline but Paco ducks and he tops over the top ropes.  Sal
tackles Baptize through the ropes and to the outside.  HvD gets ready
to execute a Birth of Tragedy Suplex on Magnon who just turned around
pointing to his head, when Manson out of nowhere _DRILLS_ the
distracted PVW American Champion with a heart punch.]


"___CRUUUUUUUUUUUUUUNNNNNNNNCH___"


[GASPING POP!]


CL: GOOD LORD!  MANSON JUST FLATTENED DONKERHARDT WITH THAT HEART
PUNCH!

FH: Manson can use that brutal move out of nowhere at any time.
Donkerhardt just found that out the hard way.

[Magnon springboards off the top ropes and on top of Max who was
pushing himself up on his feet.  Manson drops down after a cold stare
for the cover.]


!!! ONE !!!




!!! TWO !!!




!!! THREE !!!


[BOOOOOO!]


CL: Marcus Manson and The Heat have done it.  They have picked up a
monster win headed into End Game.

FH: I told you, Chip.  You don't want to piss off Marcus Manson.
Especially when you have a laundry list of injuries.

[Herk Douglas is heard over the PA system.]

HD: Your winners ... The team of THE HEAT and MARCUS MANSON!

[MORE BOO'S!!!]

[The PVW American Champion lays on the mat out cold. While the tag
teams set to have a match at End Game continue to brawl.  This has
left Manson all alone with the injured Dutchman. The crowd continues
to boo as Manson pulls the PVW American Champion up and executes a
flapjack Spinebuster on an already unconscious HvD.]


"___THUUUUUUUUUUUUUD___"


CL: ADDING INSULT TO INJURY!

FH: Might as well.  And Max and Sal and The Heat are brawling up the
aisle way and away from any chance of saving him.

CL: This could end up bad ... very bad.

[Arvelle "Magic" LaFayette is headed up after the two teams who have
no love loss themselves.]

CL: What's Manson doing now?  He has just sent the PVW American
Champion up and _over_ the top ropes!

[Manson leaves the ring, picks up HvD and throws him into the
ringsteps.]


"___CLAAAAAANG___"


FH: He is going to finish the PVW American Champion off _before_ End
Game!

[Manson drags HvD up to the ringsteps and lifts him up high in the air
and executes a huge sit-out powerbomb onto the ringsteps.]


"___THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD___"


CL: Somebody stop this!

[BIG POP!]

... Thank god!

[And it looks like Max and Sal broke loose from brawling with The Heat
as they return down to ring side to stop the onslaught.  Marcus Manson
shrugs his shoulders as he backs away laughing.]

FH: The damage is done, Chip.  The message was sent.  If HvD shows up
at End Game his career will be ended.

CL: Thank god for Max and Sal.

FH: Those party poopers.

CL: As EMT's check over the PVW American Champion let's go backstage.

[Backstage, in front of what looks like a janitor's closet, we get to
see a waddling Todd "The Rod" Johnstone move into frame. Todd is
wearing a pink plaid suit (with yellow and green stripes) and his
brown belt from Sears. Johnstone knocks on the door and we see Putter,
who is still dressed like a golf weenie.]

Todd Johnstone: You, Fluffer!

Putter: What do you want Todd?

[Todd licks his chapped lips and runs the fingers of his left hand
through his greasy, thinned hair, and presents a piece of paper to
Putter.]

TJ: Seeing as the officials employed by PVW have either been grossly
incompetent, bribed or both, the referee issue is not going to go
away. Now, the way I see it is we need someone with a referee's
license that can be fair, impartial and has no stake in the outcome.
The solution is: Todd Johnstone.

[Putter was drinking a latte but has now sprayed it on the wall to his
left.]

Putter: What?

TJ: I'm the only man who can do this job right. After that debacle on
Tradition V, where PVW's awful officiating screwed Gibson over and the
ensuing injunction placed on PVW referees working a Gibson Hayes
match, there is no other official currently employed with PVW that can
work the match. So... Todd Johnstone is the solution, you plebe.

Putter: But you're emp...

TJ: As a manager. I'm not on your referee bribe list and I'm not an
official PVW lackey. You can't bring another referee from outside of
the company so the solution is Todd Johnstone.

Putter: Well... we do have another solution.

[Johnstone's yellow teeth emerge as he bares his fangs.]

TJ: Who?

Putter: Rick Marley's brother, Judd. He's a licensed official, isn't a
referee on PVW's payroll and has been generously volunteered by...

[OH WOW! RICK!]

RM: By me. Got a problem with that, fatty?

TJ: Shut up, runt. Why don't you go lose to Jesse Muldoon again while
the adults talk.

RM: Todd, is that any way to treat an old friend?

TJ: I DON'T EVEN...

[Marley already has begun to walk away, leaving Todd fuming.]

TJ: THIS IS OUTRAGEOUS! I'm the only one who can possibly officiate...

[Matt Holliday (the wrestler, not the baseball player) walks in on
Todd throwing a tantrum and he casually pushes Todd into the wall to
Todd's right.]

MH: Seems lak ya fall down jus' as easy as alla them othah PVW
officials, Johnstone.

[As Todd tries to rock himself up, Holliday shrugs his shoulders.]

MH: Lookin' lak ya cain't git up, Yurtle. How ya gonna fairly do a
count when ya can't even get your big butt up? Seems to me we got one
of them there empasses.

[Holliday stares at Putter before leaving. Putter looks down at Todd
and shakes his head.]

Putter: The committee will take all available candiates into
consideration; now if you'll excuse me.

[The committee's mouthpiece walks away while Todd continues to try and
get up.]

TJ: I HATE YOU ALL!

[Cut back to the ringside area where Dan Flores, Christian Copeland,
Senor Cloak Dos, Tommy Ryder, Nevermind, Danny Daniels, AsH,
Christopher Black, Chris Hartt, Larry Gionet and Tyson Cain are
already in the ring.]

CL: WHOA ... And the news keeps coming!  A special guest referee?

FH: Todd should have been given the honor.  I mean who is more fair
then him?

CL: Do you really want me to answer that, Fred?  Folks as you can see
while we were backstage members participating in the Battle Royal have
been heading down the aisle way.

["Loyal to No-One" by The Dropkick Murphy's plays over the PA as the
arena goes completely silent. SO silent in fact you could probably
hear a pin drop...]

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

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

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

CL: Caleb Foley is now in the ring ...

FH: Hahaha ... His picture in the urinal's still crack me up!

CL: I am not even going to respond to that anymore.

FH: And no word on where Mike Bisignano is. Personally he is probably
the smartest man here tonight. Why participate in this match when
there is the pay per view matches coming up with higher stakes than
this here.

[A long drum roll begins to play over the loud speaker, immediately
going into "Hail to the Chief" which is met with an almost immediate
negative reaction.]

FH: And here comes our final competitor in this match. The beloved CEO
of the PVW Johnny Detson!

CL: Beloved?

FH: Who doesn't love Johnny Detson?

CL: Me ...

FH: Well you want a new job.

[Out struts Johnny Detson dressed in his standard long gold tights and
black boots.  He begins waving to the crowd, paying no attention to
the negative reaction he's receiving.Detson looks at the ring and
glares at the other competitors who are standing in the ring gesturing
for Johnny Detson to hurry up and get in the ring.]

CL: Apparently everyone is on the ring and there's the bell.


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

PVW - HEATWAVE - LUCKY SEVEN BATTLE ROYAL
Senor Cloak Dos, Christopher Black, Mike
Bisignano, Christian Copeland, Tommy
Ryder, AsH, Tyson Cain, Caleb Foley, Chris
Hartt, Larry Gionet, Johnny Detson, Danny
Daniels, Dan Flores, and Nevermind

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


*DING*DING*DING*


[As the bell sounds chaos breaks loose as everyone begins to throw
bombs at one another. Tyson Cain though rushes forward and catches Dan
Flores with a superkick that just collapses him to the mat.]

CL: Flores hit the mat like a sack of potatoes. Something doesn't seem
right with that! I mean Flores is down and he's not moving.

[The camera zooms in on Cain's boots and small pieces of metal can be
seen upon the boots.]

CL: Cain has loaded boots! What a cheat!

FH: How is it cheating?

CL: This isn't a bunkhouse stampede! There are still rules in this
match!

[Nevermind drives a right hand into the jaw of Larry Gionet and
follows it up with a stiff elbow that rocks him into the ropes.
Daniels has grabbed Senor Cloak Dos by the head and is screaming he
has found the ninja. Cain stomps away on the ribs of Flores with his
metal covered boots. Ryder rushes forward and grabs Cain spinning him
around and nailing him with an atomic drop.]

FH: It's madness everywhere you look!

CL: Detson grabs Hartt and catches him with a thumb to the eye and
scoops him up ...

FH: AsH has Black pinned in the corner and is raining in right hands
... but Black catches him with a low blow!

[As AsH doubles over Black drives his knee into the face of AsH.
Nevermind slams Gionet into the mat and quickly spins around and
catches Foley in the side of the head with a backhand.]

FH: HA! Foley should be used to be hit like that! His mom used to do
it all the time!

CL: FRED!

FH: What?

[Ryder drives another right hand into the head of Cain and grabs him
and sends him into the corner. Ryder climbs the corner and begins to
rain right hands into the head of the Cain. The crowd begins to count
at eight Cain grabs the legs and steps away from the corner, dropping
Ryder in a vicious powerbomb. Nevermind pulls Foley off of his feet
with a double choke as Black grabs AsH and begins to slam his head
into the top turnbuckle.]

FH: Look the Supreme one is pointing towards Senor Cloak Dos and
claiming that he a ninja!  The Masked Bro's comment from earlier is
starting to make sense!

CL: There's just too much action to call! Senor Cloak Dos has reversed
Daniels into the ropes and takes him up down with a standing
hurricanrana! Copeland stomps on the head of Dos before he can get
back to his feet!

FH: Nevermind drops Foley and grabs Detson by his shoulder ... massive
head butt and he follows up with a knee to the mid-section. Clubbing
right forearm sends Detson to the mat!

[Nevermind stomps on the face of Detson before turning his attention
back to Foley by driving his knee into his chest. Nevermind then grabs
a hold of Foley's head and slams it into the mat. Cain rises to his
feet and grabs ahold of Ryder's legs, dropping a legdrop right into
the nether regions ... as the crowd "ohhh's" in terror.  Black pulls
AsH up and locks on a hammerlock.]

CL: Wolf's Bane! Black with his hammerlock slam on AsH!

FH: Take out an arm and it will be hard to eliminate someone here!

[Cain stands and grabs Ryder's legs again, setting up for a slingshot.
He drops back to perform the move, as Ryder's neck catches the bottom
rope. Cain stands to his feet with a smirk on his face but that is
soon gone as Chris Hartt catches him with an elbow smash. Cain
staggers into ropes and Hartt drills him again with another elbow
smash. Cain grabs on of AsH's legs and Copeland comes over and grabs
the other one.]

FH: Make a wish boys!

[The crowd ohhhs as both Copeland and Black stomp below the belt on
AsH. Black lets out a cackle as he grabs AsH and pulls him back to his
feet. Cloak Dos though rushes forward and catches Copeland by surprise
with a right hand. Dos shoves Copeland into the ropes but Nevermind
comes from behind him and grabs the masked man and sends him crashing
to the mat with a belly to back suplex.]

CL: Nevermind is vicious tonight! He has no problems going after
anyone!

FH: And he's smart as he is targeting the ribs of Dos with a series of
stomps. And Copeland with a somersault splash on Dos!

[Gionet grabs Nevermind and spins him around he catches him with an
uppercut and scoops him up and drives him into the mat. Copeland pulls
Dos to his feet and whips him at Gionet who catches him ...]



"___CRAAAACK___"



[EEEEE POP!]


FH: RIBCRACKER! If Dos wasn't in pain before he is now!

[As Gionet stands he is met with a right hand from Chris Hartt. The
crowd roars as the one time friends battle it out with rights and
lefts.]

CL: Hartt leaving Cain in the corner to get some strong licks in on
Gionet!

FH: Ryder is up and he charges at Cain who is in the corner!

[The crowd roars as Ryder catches Cain with a vicious knee. Nevermind
has moved over and pulls the prone body of Dan Flores to his feet. As
he places him over the top rope Danny Daniels comes rushing forward
and chop blocks Nevermind.]

CL: And Danny Daniels saves Dan Flores!  Looks like, Team Dan is
trying to stick together.

FH: The way I saw it was that Danny Daniels bailed Flores out.

CL: Flores was one of the first wrestlers to qualify for the Called
Shot and holds a rare pinfall over, Perry Fontana.

[Nevermind is pushing himself back to his feet though and grabs
Daniels by the throat. Flores though drives a right hand to the ribs
of Nevermind causing him to release Danny Daniels. Black pulls AsH to
his feet and whips him at Copeland who catches him with a dropkick.
AsH lands on the mat and Copeland turns his attention back to Dos,
pulling him to his feet. Dos though grabs the top of his head and
drops him with a jawbreaker. Black goes to drop a knee into the side
of AsH but AsH rolls out of the way.]

CL: Flores grabs the back of Nevermind ...

FH: But Nevermind grabs the top rope blocking the backstabbing!

[Flores hits the mat as Daniels drives a right hand into the gut of
Nevermind. Caleb Foley raises to his knees and sees Cain teetering on
the ropes as Ryder drives him with another right hand. As Ryder winds
up again Cain blocks it and pokes Ryder in the eye.. Getting to his
feet, Caleb Foley bounces off the opposite set of ropes and rushes
towards Cain and drills him with a dropkick that sends him to the mat.
Ryder and Foley grab Cain and nail him with a double hiptoss.]

CL: Nevermind shoves Daniels into Hartt who catches him with a right
hand.

FH: Flores is back up but Gionet cuts him down with a chop block!

CL: Flores into a series of bad luck!

[Gionet grabs Flores leg and slams it into the mat. Nevermind drills
Gionet with a right hand and quickly grabs him by the waist and drives
him into the mat with a spinebuster. Copeland DDTs Senor Cloak Dos and
quickly mounts him driving rights and lefts into the masked man's
head.]

CL: Copeland has targeted Senor Cloak Dos and taking full advantage of
that onslaught earlier in the night.  Flores is back up ...

FH: Back up? Nevermind is heaving him into the air by both hands and
he just tosses him over the top rope!

[HEEL POP!]

HD: DAN FLORES HAS BEEN ELIMINATED!

FH: And Team Dan is quickly down to one!  Nevermind is a complete
_beast_ out there, Chip!

CL: You have to wonder if anyone is going to be able to throw him out.

FH: Well there is still tweleve guys inside that ring with him.  If
they all joined together they _might_ be able to send the King of
Nothing out of the ring.

[Nevermind rushes forward and spears Gionet to the mat and begins to
pound away on him.]

CL: And Nevermind is far from done in there.  Gionet tries to cover up
as the king of nothing just drives rights and lefts into his head!

[Foley grabs Copeland from behind and pulls him to his feet. He spins
him around and catches him with an uppercut. Dos pushes himself to his
feet and grabs Copeland by the mid-section and drives him into the mat
with a teardrop suplex.]

[WE LOVE DOS POP!]

CL: Senor Cloak Dos is really favoring his ribs.

[Dos drops his knee into the side of Copeland's head and quickly pulls
him back up and takes him over with a snap suplex.]

CL: Dos fighting through the pain as he gets back to his feet once
again and drills him with a legdrop.

FH: What's he doing now?

[Senor Cloak Dos straightens his mask and uses the ropes and
springboards off with an Asai moonsault and lands right across the
Chemical Imbalance.]


"___THUUUD___"


FH: Dos grabs Copeland and pulls him to his feet ... as Hartt goes
after Nevermind!

[Nevermind grabs Foley and tosses him into the path of Hartt and
himself. Foley glares at Hartt who returns the glare. Nevermind grabs
AsH and knees him in the mid-section and clubs him hard in the back.
Dos whips Copeland into the ropes and catches him with a flying
forearm as he rebounds. Dos kips up to the approval of the crowd as
Black nails AsH with a nasty kneelift.]

CL: Copeland is pulling himself to his feet using the ropes ...

FH: And Dos rushes to the far side ropes ...

[Cloak Dos leaps into the air and catches Copeland with a cross body
block. Copeland staggers back and the two men go crashing over the top
rope to the floor!]

FH: Dos has eliminated himself and Copeland!

[SHOCKING MIXED POP!]

HD: CHRISTIAN COPELAND HAS BEEN ELIMINATED! SENOR CLOAK DOS HAS BEEN
ELIMINATED!

CL: Cloak Dos isn't done as he's just slamming the head of Copeland
into the floor! Dos is to his feet and he drives his knee into the
chest of Copeland! Dos is showing a side of anger we haven't seen in
him yet! And here comes security!

FH: Not a moment too soon.

CL: The fans aren't happy.  They want to see, Senor Cloak Dos beat
down Christian Copeland.


SMAKY DOS!   SMAKY DOS!   SMAKY DOS!


SMAKY DOS!   SMAKY DOS!   SMAKY DOS!


SMAKY DOS!   SMAKY DOS!   SMAKY DOS!


[Cain gets whipped into the corner and Ryder climbs the corner to
begin drilling Cain's head with punches.  As the crowd counts them,
Cain grabs Ryder by the waist and tries for a reverse atomic drop but
Ryder is able to shove himself from the grip and hits the mat. Ryder
rushes forward and spears Cain back into the turnbuckles to the
approval of the crowd.]

CL: And Ryder continues to take out his frustrations with the Biz on
Tyson Cain right now as he stomps him into the mat!

[Suddenly the big screen lights up.]

CL: What's going on? There's a match in progress ...

[We see Laurel Levinger walking around backstage. She turns a corner
and bumps into The Biz.]

Biz: Well, well, well... Christmas must've come early this year
because you are indeed the _finest_ present to land in my lap all
year.

Laurel: The only thing that would ever get in your lap needs to be
paid.  And in case you didn't notice, I'm NOT available.

Biz: Hah. Sure doesn't look it to me. After all, why else would you be
wandering around backstage... WITHOUT your boyfriend Tommy,
nonetheless?

Laurel: He's in a match that you should be in too.  Besides, I don't
need him to put you in your place.

Biz: Is that so? And what if...

[And before The Biz can finish his sentence, Laurel goes to slap him.
The Biz catches her by the wrist and just holds it up in the air]

Biz: My oh my... this cat has claws. Maybe it's best that I just put
you down before someone _really_ gets hurt.

[The Biz drags her off causing Laurel to scream]

Laurel: TOMMY!!!!!!!

[The screen fades to black and Tommy Ryder is staring at the now black
image.]

CL: I can't believe it!

FH: Well we now why The Biz didn't show up for the battle royal!

[Tommy stomps down upon the chest of Tyson Cain three more times
before he grabs the top rope and slingshots himself up and over to the
floor.]

CL: Tommy Ryder eliminated HIMSELF!

[GO GET EM' TOMMY POP!]

HD: TOMMY RYDER HAS BEEN ELIMINATED!

[As Cain grabs the bottom rope to pull himself back to his feet Ryder
sprints up the aisle way. Hartt drives his elbow into the side of
Black's head. Black staggers back into the ropes. Nevermind whips
Daniels into the ropes and takes him down with a vicious clothesline.
Gionet and Detson are working over Caleb Foley still and Detson has
Caleb Foley held in place by the arms and screams for Gionet to come
at him. Gionet pats his forearm and smirks right at Caleb Foley, who
is groggy and struggling on the grip of Detson. Gionet charges with a
full head of steam and Caleb Foley suddenly slips out of the hold by
Detson.]

FH: Detson is taken down by Gionet and the cry baby is on the attack!

[Detson is nailed Gionet with a wicked clothesline sending him down to
the mat. As soon as Gionet turns around he is meet by a dropkick from
The Celtic Crippler...]

CL: And Foley drops Gionet to the mat! AsH is back up and he drops his
right hand into the side of Detson's head.

FH: The camera's have caught up with Tommy Ryder in the back!

[Tommy gets to the back to find Laurel laying on the floor holding her
head.  He flips over the catering table in frustration before going
back to Laurel's side to help her.]

CL: The Biz is nowhere to be found right now ...

[The crowd begins to buzz as a figure makes his through the crowd.]

FH: Don't talk to fast, Chip! The Biz is making his way through the
crowd.

[The crowd boos heavily as The Biz slides into the ring and grabs
Chris Hartt and catches him in the side of the head with a stiff
forearm.]

FH: And the Biz is once again a step ahead of Ryder and the rest of
the PVW!

[The Biz drives another forearm into the side of Hartt's head forcing
him into the ropes. The Biz begins to lift Chris Hartt up and tries to
force him over the top rope. Hartt though hooks the ropes and attempts
to fight the elimination. Black begins to help the Biz.]

FH: And Black driving his right hand into the chest of Hartt. He's
adding insult here as he tries to weaken the grip of Hartt on that top
rope!

[Across the ring Foley scoops Detson up and drops him across the top
rope with a hot shot. As he tries to pull Detson back up, Gionet
rushes forward and catches him with a running elbow that catches the
PVW fan favorite hard. Foley staggers to the side as Nevermind drives
Daniels into the mat with a nasty looking powerslam. Cain reverses a
whip from AsH and AsH drills the corner hard.]

CL: We've got action all over the ring! AsH flips up to the top
turnbuckle, only to flip back down to his feet and stagger back
towards Cain!

[Cain grabs AsH and nails a belly to back suplex that gets a monster
"OHHHH!!"  from the crowd.]

FH: AsH drilled into the mat like an accordion! Cain is reaching into
his boots!

[The crowd boos him as he pulls out a pair of brass knuckles and a
chain. Cain begins to motion for AsH to get his feet as he wraps the
chain around his hand ...]

CL: He's pulled out a chain!

FH: It's just a loose lace from the boot!

CL: It's a chain, Fred! And Nevermind cleans Cain's clock!

[Cain drops the chain as he hits the mat with a thud! Hartt drives a
finger into Biz's eye that forces Biz to drop Hartt.]

FH: And Hartt using the illegal thumb to the eye!

CL: I thought you called that the Greco-Roman eye poke?

[Hartt is then able to catch Black with a right hand and Hartt's feet
are back on the mat. Nevermind wraps the chain around his hand and
cleans the clock of AsH as he stands to his feet. Cain is up and is
caught with a backhand from Nevermind that forces him into the ropes.
Nevermind catches Cain with an uppercut that sends him onto the ropes.
Cain though is able to land his feet on the apron.]

FH: And Cain is still alive!


"___SSSMMMAAACCCKKK___"


CL: Not anymore!

FH: Nevermind used the chain!

CL: He used Cain's chain!

[SCREW THAT GUY POP!]

HD: TYSON CAIN HAS BEEN ELIMINATED!

CL: And I think knocked out! The referee is checking him out as he
looks at the lights blankly.

[Nevermind tosses the chain to the floor and turns around but is
caught with a knee to  the midsection from Danny Daniels. Caleb Foley
stalks around to Nevermind's side and grabs his shoulder, wraps one
leg around one of Nevermind's legs.]

CL: Daniels with the knee and Foley quickly drops the big man with the
Russian Legsweep.

FH: Daniels though catches Foley in the head with a stiff kick and
pulls him up ... vertical suplex!

[A groggy AsH pushes himself back to his feet as Hartt continues to
alternate rights and lefts between Black and the Biz. AsH rushes
forward and spears Black taking him to the mat as Hartt turns and just
rains the rights and lefts into the Biz.]

CL: We started with fourteen and we're now down to nine men!

FH: All is still right with the world.  Johnny Detson still holds
control of this match.

[Daniels strikes with a big right hand, but Caleb Foley fires one
back, stunning Daniels.  But Daniels catches Foley with another right
hand that rocks Foley back. Daniels tries for a superkick, but it's
caught, Foley spins him around and grabs him from behind. Daniels is
lifted up and dropped as Caleb Foley went to one knee, scoring the
atomic drop that sends into the ropes. AS Foley gets back to his feet
Gionet charges forward and catches him with a shoulder block. As Foley
crashes into the mat Gionet drops a knee into the side of Foley's
ribs.]

FH: And Gionet is lighting up the side of Foley's head! Any second the
waterworks are going to start!

[Hartt DDTs the Biz as Black whips AsH into the corner.]

CL: AsH avoids the charging Black who slams into the corner shoulder
first!

FH: Gionet pulls Foley up and is trying to force him over the top
rope!

[The crowd cheers as the Paladin rushes forward and catches Gionet
with a running forearm. The crowd ohhs as Foley drops onto the apron
and instinctively he grabs the bottom rope as Hartt drives a series of
elbows to the side of Gionet's head.]

CL: And the crowd is loving this! Hartt once again getting his hands
on his one time friend!

[Gionet though blocks an elbow and spins Hartt around and drives a
stiff palm thrust into the chest of Hartt.]

FH: And the robotic Gionet drives another palm thrust into the chest
of Chris Hartt.

[As Hartt is rocked on the ropes AsH drives Black into the mat with a
side suplex. AsH stands up and leaps up ...]

CL: Leg Drop by AsH across the throat of Black!

FH: Gionet is pushing Hartt up onto the ropes!

CL: And Nevermind is charging!

[The crowd roars as Nevermind catches Gionet in the back of the head
with a vicious mafia kick!]

CL: Hartt lands on the apron!

FH: And Gionet crashes to the floor!

[UNEXPECTED ELIMINATION POP!]

HD: LARRY GIONET HAS BEEN ELIMINATED!

FH: And the PVW Warrior doesn't look happy!

[Gionet slams the floor in frustration as he looks at Nevermind who is
glaring at Hartt as he uses the ropes to pull himself back to his feet
... Foley rolls into the ring and catches Nevermind with a stiff right
hand to the side of the head!]

CL: Gionet is up to his feet and he grabs Hartt's leg!

[Hartt crashes to the floor in a thud and Gionet grabs Hartt to his
feet quickly and tosses him into the steel guardrail.]


"___CCCLLLAAANNNGGGG___"


[BULL SHIT HEEL POP!]


HD: CHRIS HARTT HAS BEEN ELIMINATED!

CL: And Larry Gionet wasn't about to allow, Chris Hartt to stay inside
the match.

FH: Well I have to agree with Larry right there.  He did us _all_ a
favor and eliminated Chris Hartt.

[Foley drives his knee into the mid-section of Nevermind and grabs him
by the arm. Foley whips Nevermind into the ropes and as he rebounds
Daniels catches him with a drop toe hold and Foley connects with a
quick standing moonsault to his back. The Biz rushes forward and
dropkicks Foley as he stands back to his feet. Daniels grabs The Biz
and lights his chest up with a knife edge chop.]

CL: The Biz is being lit up by Daniels who is using those knife edge
chops to force him into the ropes.

TWAP!

TWAP!

TWAP!

FH: Foley staggering back up and Detson has him by the waist ...
German suplex! Foley is down!

[Nevermind pushes himself back to his feet as Black rushes forward and
catches Daniels in the back with a dropkick. Daniels staggers forward
from the impact in The Biz, who falls through the top rope and the
middle rope to the ring apron.]

CL: The Biz nearly eliminated there!

FH: Not even close he's on the apron and he didn't go over the top
rope!

[The Biz grabs Daniels by the head and drops to the floor
clotheslining Daniels over the top rope. Daniels staggers back and
Black drives his knee into the back of Daniels sending him back into
the ropes. Nevermind spins Black around and drills him with a right
hand.]

CL: The Biz looking for a vertical suplex on Daniels!

FH: And Oure Hero is looking for the ninjas that just kicked him!

[The Biz climbs back onto the ring apron and grabs Daniels head. The
crowd ohhs as The Biz begins to lift Daniels into the air but Daniels
fights getting his feet back under him and begins to reverse the
suplex. Nevermind pulls Black up and plants him into the canvas with a
nasty death valley driver. Detson drops his knee into the side of
Foley's head and stands up and stomps on his face. As Detson turns
around he walks into a boot from Nevermind that sends him crashing to
the mat.]

FH: And Daniels drops The Biz stomach first across the top rope! And
AsH rushes forward and catches The Biz with a nasty knee lift!

[The Biz is sent crashing to the ring apron again, but this time he
rolls under the bottom rope back into the ring and Daniels scoops him
up ...]

CL: THe Biz is teetering on elimination!

[AsH grabs the legs of The Biz and begins to aid Daniels in his
elimination.]

FH: And Nevermind is hitting anything that moves! Foley takes a right
hand as does Black and now a left for Foley and a left for Black! The
two men are staggered into the ropes!

[Johnny Detson stands to his feet as Nevermind grabs the arm of Foley
and whips him across the ring. Detson catches the charging Foley and
sends him crashing into the mat with a spinebuster.]

CL: AsH and Daniels are continuing to try and eliminate The Biz ...

FH: But The Biz has his arm locked around the top rope ...

CL: And AsH is pounding away at the arm now!

FH: Biz's grip is loosening and Nevermind scoops Black up and drives
him to the mat with a shoulderbreaker.

[The crowd roars as Daniels and AsH finally shove the Biz over the top
rope to the floor.]

CL: The Biz is gone! He tried to cheat his way to a win and he's gone!

FH: Cheat?!?!

CL: Yes cheat!

[TAKE THAT BIZ POP!]

HD: MIKE BISIGNANO HAS BEEN ELIMINATED!

CL: And you can bet Tommy Ryder is smiling some where.

FH: Why?  Ryder is the moron who eliminated himself.

[Nevermind pulls Black to his feet and whips him into the ropes
towards Danny Daniels who ducks his head ...]

CL: Backbody drop ...

[Black goes the top rope but somehow as he goes over he grabs the top
rope and allows himself to land awkwardly on apron.]

FH: Black showing why he has the makings of a future champion here in
PVW as he grabs the top rope keeping himself alive in this match!

[Daniels spins around to face Black but Black drives his shoulder into
the mid-section of Daniels. As he does that Detson pulls Foley back to
his feet and locks on a full nelson, and Nevermind begins to drive
right hand after right hand into the stomach of Foley. Black grabs the
top rope and begins to slingshot himself over the top rope but AsH
leaps and catches Black in the jaw with a stiff kick.]

CL: And AsH with a nasty kick that keeps Black on the apron! AsH
reaches over the top rope and pulls Black to his feet ...

FH: AsH drops down catching the throat of Black on the top rope!

[The crowd ohhhs as Black somehow maintains his balance on the apron.
Black reaches for the top rope but Daniels grabs the middle rope and
thrusts his shoulder into the mid section of Black before he can get
the rope ...]

CL: Christopher Black crashes to the floor!

[WHOA POP!]

HD: CHRISTOPHER BLACK HAS BEEN ELIMINATED!

CL: We are down to five men! Four members of the Called Shot and AsH
is the lone survivor of the scramble participants!

FH: AsH has been lucky so far but with the fact that Detson just
grabbed him and drills him with a jaw breaker. I have to say his luck
is about up!

[AsH grabs his jaw as Detson pops back up and catches him with a swift
kick to the mid-section. As AsH doubles over Daniels rushes from
behind and grabs the back of his head and drives him into the mat with
a bulldog!]

FH: Daniels bulldogs AsH and as he does so he catches Detson with a
boot to the chest!

[Detson staggers backwards as Nevermind shoves Foley into the ropes.
Nevermind drives a right hand, another right and a third right into
the young Irish man. Nevermind follows up by drilling the upper thigh
of Foley with his boot.]

FH: That impact may have given Foley a Charlie horse as he grabs his
leg ... and Nevermind drills him with a nasty uppercut!

CL: Foley rocking on the ropes as Detson is back over there and he
drives a left hand into the head of Foley!

[Nevermind quickly drives an elbow into the side of Detson's head
sending him crashing to the mat.]

FH: And the king of nothing blindsided the CEO!

[Across the ring AsH whips Daniels into the ropes and Daniels
leapfrogs AsH, rebounds off of the ropes and catches AsH in the jaw
with a flying forearm. Daniels is quick to his feet and glances around
him.]

FH: Daniels looking for ninjas again! But he doesn't seem to see any
as he pulls AsH up and takes him over with a snap suplex.

[As Daniels rolls to his feet Detson kicks Nevermind in the leg, but
Nevermind shrugs it off and shoves Detson into the arms of Daniels
...]

CL: Exploder Suplex!


"___THUUUUD___"


[Johnny Detson is a heap on the mat as AsH charges Daniels, who ducks
the clothesline but AsH changes directions quickly and catches
Nevermind with a clothesline instead.]

FH: AsH probably just saved Foley there!

[The crowd roars as AsH follows the clothesline up with a stiff kick
and he grabs the head of Nevermind in a front chancery.]

CL: AsH could be looking for a DDT here ...

FH: But Nevermind uses his size and power to shove AsH off of him!

CL: And Foley with a chop block on Nevermind!

[Nevermind drops to a knee and AsH drives his knee into the jaw of
Nevermind. Daniels quickly gets on the second rope and leaps off
driving the point of his elbow into the chest of Johnny Detson. The
crowd cheers wildly as the self-proclaimed CEO is taking a beating at
the hands of Daniels.]

CL: AsH and Foley grabbing Nevermind, pulling him to his feet ...
double suplex!

[Foley looks at AsH and the two men grab Nevermind pulling him to his
feet. Daniels pulls Detson up and whips him into the corner. Daniels
rushes forward and is caught by a knee to the jaw from Detson.]

FH: And the CEO is fighting back to the approval of the crowd!

CL: The crowd isn't cheering him. AsH catches Nevermind with a right
hand and Foley connects with one of his own. The king of nothing is
sent into the ropes and Foley and AsH grab his arms ... double Irish
whip ...

[Nevermind ducks the double clothesline attempt and stops on a dime
and fires off a mafia kick that drops AsH to the mat. Foley charges
but Nevermind catches him with an elbow. Detson rushes from the corner
and catches Daniels with a hooking clothesline. Detson stops and
motions for Daniels to get to his feet ...]


"___TWAAAAP___"


FH: Johnnykick! That superkick just dropped Daniels!

[Detson spins around and catches Foley with a dropkick to the back
sending him into the arms of Nevermind who grabs him in a bear hug.
Detson runs off of the ropes and leaps catching Foley with a
clothesline. As he does Nevermind releases the bear hug and Foley
crashes into the mat. Detson stands up and slaps Foley across the face
but Nevermind quickly grabs him from behind spins him around and
catches him with a head butt. Detson drops to a knee but quickly pops
back up but Nevermind nails him with an elbow to the skull that sends
Detson crashing back to the mat.]

FH: And now Nevermind is standing on the throat of Detson!

CL: AsH is back to his feet and he spins Nevermind around ... and a
swift kick to the nether regions of Nevermind!

[The crowd cheers as Nevermind is doubled over. AsH hooks the head of
Nevermind ...]

FH: AsH could be looking for a piledriver here ... but Detson is up
and he catches AsH with the Johnnykick!

[AsH again slams into the mat. Before Nevermind can stand Detson grabs
him by the head and drives him to the mat with a one handed bulldog.]

FH: The CEO is in charge now!

CL: Foley is down, Nevermind down, Daniels down, and AsH is done!

FH: Like I said the CEO is in charge and now he's pulling Foley back
up to his feet and just slaps the taste out of his mouth.

[Detson grabs Foley by his head and tries to toss him over the top
rope, but Foley lands on the apron and quickly catches Detson with a
right hand and a second one. Detson staggers back and Foley grabs the
top rope to stabilize himself as he winds up and nails a massive
haymaker.]

CL: Foley fighting for his life on the apron!

FH: Come on Detson! YES! Detson blocks that right hand and catches
Foley with one of his own!

[Foley is reeling from the shot but his grip on the top rope keeps him
on the apron. Detson drops an elbow into the elbow of Foley forcing
him to release the rope. Detson then catches him with another right
hand and a second one. Foley begins to rock on the apron. Daniels is
up to his feet and he rushes at Detson. Detson hears the roar of the
crowd and side steps and Foley is caught by Daniels' dropkick sending
him to the floor.]

CL: NO! Foley is gone!

FH: Thank god!

[BOOOOOOOOOO!]

HD: CALEB FOLEY HAS BEEN ELIMINATED!

FH: That reminds me I really need to take a leak, Chip.

[Detson waves at Foley as he slams the ring apron in frustration.]

FH: Come on Foley be a good sport! You should be used to letting
people down by now!

CL: Only four remain! Detson just caught Daniels in the side of the
head with that right hand. And he lands another one!

FH: AsH leaps and nails Nevermind with a dropkick to the knee. He's
climbing to the top rope now and he leaps ... Elbow finds it's mark!

[Detson continues to rock Daniels with a right and a left and another
right forcing "Your Hero" into the ropes. AsH pulls Daniels to his
feet and goes for an Irish whip, Nevermind rebounds off of the ropes
and AsH sends him up and over to the mat with a backbody drop.]

CL: Daniels on the ropes and Detson is just unloading with those right
hands.

FH: He can sense the victory here tonight, Chip!

[Detson swings wildly and Daniels ducks catching Detson and lifts him
into the air.]

CL: Daniels lifting Detson up and he dumps him over the top rope!

FH: NO! NOT THE CEO!

HD: JOHNNY DETSON HAS BEEN ELIMINATED!

[HUGE ROARING HAHA POP!]

FH: I can't believe it!

CL: Believe it, Fred!

[Danny Daniels looks at Johnny Detson and thrusts his arms into the
air. AsH though comes rushing forward and shoves him up and over the
top rope.]

FH: That's what he gets for showboating!

[DOUBLE DANNY CHANT!]

HD: DANNY DANIELS HAS BEEN ELIMINATED!

CL: It's down to AsH and Nevermind!

FH: I would have never thought AsH would be left in the ring with
Nevermind here tonight.

[AsH turns around and sees Nevermind getting back to his feet.
Nevermind charges at AsH but AsH ducks and reaches up ...]

CL: Hangman's neckbreaker! The king of nothing is down and the crowd
is loving it as AsH kips up.

[AsH is back to his feet and quickly drops a right hand between the
eyes of Nevermind. The crowd roars as AsH steps onto the apron.]

CL: AsH outside of the ring right now.

FH: This isn't smart at all.

CL: AsH grabs the top rope ... slingshot leg drop finds it's mark!

[AsH is back to his feet quickly and pulls Nevermind up and drags him
to the ropes. He begins to try and force Nevermind over the rope
but Nevermind catches him with an elbow to the gut, and AsH counters
with an elbow to the back of the head. But Nevermind seems to absorb
it and fires off another elbow and a third.]

CL: Nevermind fighting AsH off of him. But AsH grabs the arm of
Nevermind and whips ...

FH: Nevermind reverses the whip and AsH is sent across the ring!

[As AsH rebounds off of the ropes he leaps at Nevermind with a cross
body ...]

FH: Nevermind catches AsH!

CL: And he military presses him into the air. Could he be looking for
the Seattle Slam?

[Nevermind takes two steps towards the ropes and just tosses AsH over
the top rope.]

CL: AsH slams into the concrete floor hard!

[GASP POP!]

FH: Nevermind wins!

HD: ASH HAS BEEN ELIMINATED!

!!! DING DING DING !!!

HD: Ladies and gentlemen your winner ...

!!! NEVERMIND !!!

[ROARING BOO'S SHOWER DOWN!!!]

CL: Nevermind is a beast.  How is anyone going to keep him from
grabbing that Called Shot at End Game?

FH: The answer is pretty simple, Chip.   They _won't_.

CL: After this display in the rapid fast battle royal I am starting to
agree with you there.

FH: Our only hope is Johnny Detson.  He has to protect his investment
against Nevermind.

CL: Oh brother.

[Nevermind quickly leaves the ring not showing any signs that he even
cared that he won the match.]

FH: If Nevermind wins the Called Shot, I'm not sure he will even care
to cash it in.

CL: I don't know ... Shots at the PVW title doesn't come around very
often.  I am getting word we have a previously recorded segment to run
by our odd couple the PVW tag team champions.

[Scene: A Chinese restaurant ... at least that's what one would assume
with how many Chinese are here eating.  If it weren't for the food,
it'd be hard to tell it was a restaurant.  It looks like a storage
garage, almost.  One can even see the edge of the garage door up over
the entrance, just peeking out from beneath the sign in Chinese.  The
walls are almost like bathroom tile, and the floor is grungy looking
from all the foot traffic that goes through.  People are crowding
around to make their orders to a waiter that's frantically scribbling
them down who in turn loudly barks them out to the kitchen staff in
the back.  Heck, you can even see into the kitchen area, filled with
stoves and smoking pots.  At one of the empty tables sits a pair of
kitchen staff putting various pastes of meat and vegetable mixes into
flat noodles, and folding them into dumplings and wontons.  The place,
almost literally, looks like a hole in the wall.]

Livestock: So what's this place called again?

[Entering the scene come the 3-man team of loonies known as Livestock
Zappa, Broderick Ezekiel "Zeke" Craven and Dr. Ohno Ow.  For some
reason Ohno and Livestock have their championship belts slung over
their shoulders.  Zeke sweeps back his wild, white-striped-red hair so
as to better take in his surroundings.

Suddenly a cat runs under Livestock's foot, narrowly avoiding having
it's little kitty spine snapped in twain by a size 14 loafer.]

Livestock: WHOA!  Sure are a lot of strays around here.

[Looking after the cat (a very Garfield-like orange tabby) Zeke curls
his lip in
apprehension.]

Zeke: Say there, Ohno, that very well-fed hunk of fur-covered orange
meat isn't the
secret ingredient in this little bistro is it?

Ohno: No worry, NOT Can-to-nese res-tau-rant. Dumpling only have PORK.
CAT just taste tes-ters. Fat CAT mean GOOD FOOD.

Livestock: That's ... interesting. Actually, I thought it was just the
Koreans that eat cat and dog.  Chinese do it too?

Zeke: Uh, yeah?  Just not usually in the states, 'Stock.  I'm going to
take Ohno's word on this as he is a little more in the know and say,
what's this place called again?  My hanzi's a little rusty--

Livestock: You don't know how to read Mandarin.

Zeke: I know what the symbol for honor looks like.  That constitutes
rusty.  Anyway, this place's name?  Oh, and is there a poppy cart?
Maybe some of the good stuff?

Ohno: No one EVER rem-mem-ber.  Just CALL kit-ty noodle.

[At that several more cats run under foot.]

Ohno: Must be VERY good dum-pling today.

Livestock: Wait, if I say "noodle"--

[Suddenly the stream of cats halts and converges on Livestock's
location, several standing on their hind legs to push on him and one
kitten climbing the back of his thigh.]

Livestock: Gah!  What the hell!?

Zeke: Keep going. I'm curious how many cats it would take to bring you
down.

[At the other side of the restaurant someone gets up from their seat
and Ohno quickly springs into action, grabbing one of the cats and
jumping up on the table to run across it.]

Ohno: QUICK!  BEFORE other GET!

[Sure enough several other people start pushing and shoving trying to
reach the table.  Although he's quick, Ohno is cut off at the pass by
a waiter, tosses his cat into the air, slides between the agile
server's legs, catches the cat and manages only to tie the first one
in the other party. For a half second both men glare, eye to eye (plus
eyepatch) before the other man is creamed by Livestock who slides into
his seat, sending him sprawling.]

*CRASH!*

RCD (Random Chinese Dude): Zhunao! [Pig brain!]

Livestock: Whoops!  Sorry, isn't that how the game's played?  In the
case of a tie it's a hip-bump-contest?  Maybe your girlfriend can try
to dislodge me.

[Violet and Meili follow, simply slipping through the crowd carefully.
A few customers try to take the seats that Ohno's saving for them, but
when they do his holds up the cat and yanks on it's tail, causing it
to begins hissing and scratching wildly as Ohno uses it to threaten
them.]

Cat: *RRROOOOWWWWWWWW! HISSSSS!*

Ohno: STAY BACK!  Have CAT, NO 'fraid USE!

[Wisely the patrons back away slowly, as Meili and Violet arrive and
sit down on either side of Ohno.]

Violet: Thank you, Ohno honey.

Meili: [petting the cat] Awww!  Hen Ke-ai! [How cute!]

[The cat swipes at Meili, still irritated by the way it's being held,
though Meili seems oblivious to it's impotent rage.  Livestock, now
sandwiched between Violet and Meili opposite Ohno tries to make eye
contact with the crazy cat lady for half a tick before looking over to
the red puffball of terror known as Zeke Craven who is only just now
sauntering into the scene.]

Livestock: Oh, hey, Zeke ... not really quick are you?

Zeke: Oh, I'm fine.  See? There's still a chair for me.

[Dusting himself off, that same poor shmuck who got floored by
Livestock reaches for the last chair in the restaurant, starts to pick
it up, then drops it with a muffled shriek as Zeke pinches him where
the root of the thumb meets the hand.  Without another word Zeke
slides it into place between Livestock and Meili.  Grinning stupidly,
Livestock half stands, scoots his chair over nearer to Violet and
takes Zeke's chair. Blinking in confusion and annoyance, Zeke does his
best to stare Livestock down.]

Livestock: Hey, you don't want to sit in this cold old thing.  Take
mine.  It's warm.

[Glancing back and forth between Meili and 'Stock, Zeke gives an
exasperated sigh before rolling his eyes and plopping down in the
"warm" chair.]

Zeke (softly): Just don't queer the deal, Lothario.

[With the girls now in their seats, Ohno drops the cat, which
immediately dashes off under the tables.  Looking to his partner, Ohno
leans in as if to conspire in some way.]

Ohno: May-be, first, you TRY order LUNCH.  Prac-tice CHINESE.

[Violet and Ohno barely keep back a chuckle.]

Livestock: Oh, of course. I've got this...

[Using gestures and body language Livestock tries a few times to call
over a waiter
politely, then remembers his lack of manners and just uses the
universal method.]

Livestock: HEY YOU!

[Suddenly an older waitress dutifully appears at the table.]

Livestock: Yi wan shuijiao, dushao qian? [How much is one night?]

[Ohno and Violet struggle to keep their lips sealed at Livestocks
mistake. Meili, on the other hand remains oblivious, as she's now
playing with a kitten she picked up off the floor and is now sitting
in her lap.]

Waitress: Shenme?

[Zeke leans over and corrects him.]

Zeke: You're tones are, um, a little off. "Yiwan shuijiao, duoshao
qian?" [How much is one bowl of dumplings?]

Livestock: Ah, gotcha. [to the waitress again] Yiwan shuijiao, duoshao
qian? [How much is one night?]

[The waitress stand a moment in disbelief, then flashes a toothy
grin... well, for what teeth the old lady has left.]

Waitress: Oh, free! FREE! Lai-lai.

[The waitress takes Livestock by the hand as if to lead him
somewhere.]

Livestock: See, not so hard, got us free food.

[Ohno and Violet have their hands over their mouths struggling in vain
to hold back their laughter.]

Zeke: Well. While Livestock learns a very ... very hard lesson,
perhaps we should
discuss business.  Oh, and get another server. Would it be too much to
bean one with a chopstick?

Violet: No, not really. [Throws a chopstick that hits a waitress in
the back of the
head.] Sifu!

[The waitress sighs and wades through the crowd to their table.]

Zeke: Nicely done.  I call next shot though.  Anyway, we really do
need to make our little arrangement more concrete. You see, those
pretty little golden plates are supposed to go to the greatest tandem
in the league. Right now I honestly think we have just that.  The only
thing is that your and Livestock's contracts are both written with
language that specifies other partners. Now the dissolution of a
tandem services agreement within a professional wrestling league is no
trouble whatsoever BUT ... until a new contract is drawn up you'll
continue to receive your former per diem. That is *ahem* not to say
that *cough* PAIN wasn't receiving a good amount for a night's work.
BUT, well, you, Ohno, were not under my umbrella at the time of your
contract negotations. Seeing as I created the language in your
contract I can safely say that, were you to sign a new document, you
would benefit greatly from a new tandem services agreement.

Violet: [to the waitress] Siwan erliang la jiaozi [4 bowls of spicy
dumplings, 2 servings each]

Waitress: Eng.

Violet (to Zeke): And what changes would you recommend?

[Clearly, the silliness has ended and Violet has shifted to business
mode.]

Zeke: Oh, mostly financial ... BUT ... in the spirit of full
disclosure, as you are all, as Livestock, now under my umbrella, I--

[For some reason Zeke seems reluctant to say the next part.]

Violet: Yes?

Zeke: It will be necessary to insert language that severs ties between
Ow and one Doctor Malus Practice. Ow will be a well-paid champion ...
but PAIN ... will be no more.

[DUN-DUN-DUNNN!]

Ohno: What!? No, NE-VER! Mal, OOOOOHNOOOOO sidekick. OOOOOOHNOOOOOO
can FIGHT a-lone, but need MAL co-mic re-lief. We TEAM. NO split dy-
na-mic du-o. NEVER!

Violet: Um ... Ohno honey, I hate to bring this up, but reading the
fine print ... and, well... if you don't make the change [finger
quotes] "official" PVW could,
well, technically strip you guys of the championship.

Ohno: WHAT!? NO take aw-ard TROPHY! OOOOOOHNOOOOO earn THIS ho-nor! IT
my
PRE-CIOUSSSsssss*hack*cough*!

Zeke: Again, until something is done to make your pairing with
Livestock Zappa more permanent the titles are in Limbo.  Just one of
those silly little things that come up in paperwork for a professional
wrestling organization, you see.  Now Ohno, it's crunch time ... the
Title ... or Mal?

Ohno: [without missing a beat] Mal who?

Zeke: THAT is what I like to hear!

[As the three conclude business, the younger waitress returns carrying
a tray with 4 bowls of dumplings in a bright red broth.  With the
arrival of yet another of her great loves in life (so far for the
record, that's Ohno, cute fuzzy animals, and food) Meili puts the cat
down and breaks out the chopsticks.]

Meili: MMMMMM!  Haochi!  Let's eat!

Zeke: Hm, indeed.  Oh, and perhaps a little something to toast our
newfound understanding?  What liquors do they have here?

[As the four are about to dig in, suddenly a bloodcurdling scream is
heard from somewhere out back. All the patron's stop in mid-bite at
the sound. The cats go running in terror from the sound.]

Livestock: NO!  Why!?  RAPE!

*CRASH!*BANG!*CLANG!*

Livestock: MY EYES!  I'm blind!

[Pots and pans fall everywhere, hitting the ground with crashes and
clangs.  Chefs back away, giving him room as Livestock comes barreling
through the kitchen from the back door, and into the restaurant.
Jumping up on tables and running over them, which are fortunately
metal that doesn't break under his weight, he finally comes to a stop
when he reaches the original table, a look of horror on his face.]

Livestock: The waitress!  She's something horrible!  Not human!
Cthulu lives!  Also ... SHE GOT NAKED ON ME!  Is that what all old
people look like naked?  Kill me now!

[Ohno and Violet, finally unable to keep it in any more burst out into
uproarious
laughter. Violet even falling out of her chair laughing.]

Ohno and Violet: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!

Livestock: What?  Did you two know that was gonna happen?  That's
entrapment!  I should sue you!

Zeke: Livestock, the deal is struck and it's official.  You wouldn't
want to sue your tag team partner, would you?

Livestock: I ... son of a--

[From the back, an old woman's voice almost seems to sing as it calls
out.]

Waitress: Oh, Qinaaaaideeeee! [My love!]

Livestock: Oh no!  Oh no it lives!  Is it still naked?  I ain't
stickin' around to find out!

[At that Livestock Zappa turns tail and bolts out of the restaurant
running down the street.]

Zeke: "When danger reared it's ugly head he bravely turned his tail
and fled."

Violet: [looking after Livestock] Normally I'd say we should follow
him, but we already paid for lunch.

Zeke: Hm?  Oh, don't worry about him.  He'll do fine in this part of
town.  Remember?  He speaks fluent Chinese.

[Violet, Ohno and Zeke all share a chuckle as Meili continues to enjoy
her kitten.  And so the other four stay enjoying their lunch as
Livestock is seen running off into the city, hopefully not to never be
seen again.  End scene.

Fade from black on Rob Cole in the center of the ring beneath a
single light, sitting on a steel chair. Nothing fancy, no big
production or music introduces the next segment. The announcers are
silent and Rob Cole is nothing but a man in a black t-shirt, jeans,
and a leather jacket. Long hair pulled into a top knot, the bruised
and battered Cole rubs his hands together and takes a deep breath
before he speaks.]

RC: Who are you to tell me what I "deserve", Bill? You take my son,
you tell him stories, and you make sure my wife feels the threat...
all
because I don't "deserve" them? You know... you're right. I don't
deserve the happy family, I don't deserve the accolades, and I don't
deserve the safety and security of a life free from men like you...
you're right. And you don't deserve to be alone. You don't deserve to
be haunted by whatever it is that crawls in your skull, whatever it is
that pushes you to hurt people, whatever it is that made you threaten
my family... you don't deserve any of it. And there's this movie
quote....
Clint Eastwood stood above the body of a dying man whimpering about
his house, his life, and all that other crap and about what he did and
didn't deserve and he got taught a lesson in the final second of his
life. "Deserves ain't got nothin' to do with it."

*audience pop*

[Cole stares up into the camera, his eyes cold. His voice never
raises... it's calm, it's cold, and it's filled with absolute hate. He
smirks before speaking, his next words dripping with acid and
disgust.]

RC: There's a good little sound-byte, huh? I heard some of you cheer a
little... start the heart pumping a little? Each one of you sitting at
home, watching this, thinking this is some sort of promo before a big
pay per view match... You want to see Rob Cole turn into the monster,
you want to see Rob Cole bleed the green-skinned freak, you want to
cheer when I come storming down that aisle... NO!!! I turned my back
on that monster... I turned my back on that ring, on you, and I did
horrible things just a few months back and I ended the career of a
former champion. I'm /not/ the hero, the monster, or anything else...
I'm a husband, a father, and a man who is scared of walking down that
aisle. I am afraid of William Craven. You know what, Bill? Maybe I
walk down that aisle and I just lay down... maybe I don't even lift a
finger to defend myself, let you blow of steam, and then I retire. I
lost my passion for this kind of crap, Craven... I lost my hatred and
I don't exactly feel up to the task. I thought the idea of what you
did to my family, what you want to do, I thought that would push me to
the next level... but all it does is leave me with a bitter taste in
my mouth and it forces me to realize that this business left me
behind. So, no..."Deserves" have nothing to do with it.

*The audience is silent as they watch Rob Cole in the ring. There's no
pop this time around.*

[Cole looks down and shakes his head.]

RC: It's not popular to talk about our doubts... to talk about our
fears. You see, we're supposed to stand in front of the camera and be
filled with confidence... we're supposed to be humorous, insulting,
and we're supposed to ramp ourselves and our audience up so that they
buy tickets and pay-per-views and merchandise and they make us rich.
They "deserve" our best efforts... and I have given them my best and
my worst every single night that I walked down that aisle, I was
prepared to give it to them and to you, and then you leveled me with a
beating I haven't had since my rookie days in bingo-hall promotions.
And maybe that was something I 'deserved', Bill. Maybe it wasn't. But
here I am now, only a few nights before the big show and I can't stop
my hand from trembling and I still feel pain when I breathe and I
still want to take off my boots and lay them beside the mat. I do not
want this fight... I do not want to be in this business any more.

[Cole lifts his gaze again... and now he stands.]

RC: And so when I thought about laying down, when I thought about
letting you blow off steam, when I thought about all the pain and the
suffering just one other little thought kept jumping in my head... and
it wasn't about winning, it wasn't about beating you, and it wasn't
about how "brave" our "Courageous" I would be. I thought about all the
mythological monsters and all the people that fell, all the people who
screamed and thrashed about and whimpered beneath the weight of their
impending doom. Every dang movie, every dang book, and every great
heroic song of battle... where the odds were stacked and there was no
hope. And I would raise my shaking hand and I would stare at it...
trembling, afraid, and incapable of closing into a fist. It wouldn't
close, Bill... but this one thought kept popping into my skull even
when every muscle in my body refused to follow it.

[He lifts his hand... and closes it as if he were about to write...
the hand is still bloody from earlier in the evening.]

RC: Until this night. My fingers trembled and they shook and they
closed around that pen and I scrawled my name across that contract...
and that little thought popped in, that little idea suddenly erupted
and exploded and became so much more than a nagging little whisper.
And my fingers closed a little tighter, my muscles began to strain
beneath the pressure, and then I drew your blood...

[Cole smiles a little awkwardly... a wash of relief coming across his
features as he turns his gaze back to the camera. He lowers his
fist... and points his finger.]

RC: Make. Him. Pay. That's what I thought.... Make him earn every drop
of your blood, every scream from your throat, every muscle that he
tears... make him pay for every inch. It doesn't matter if you lose,
doesn't matter if you can't stand, and it doesn't matter how scared
you are because he's already won in every way that counts. He took
away your pride, your courage, and he buried you alive. And, Bill,
believe me... you were winning. You won. You could have bragged from
here to Japan and every nation in between and far beyond about how Rob
Cole was afraid to face you... you could have bragged to every ring
rat in the locker room, you could have used it to cement your legacy,
and you could have gone on to challenge for that same belt you never
ever wore.

[Cole chuckles a bit, lowering his hand as he shakes his head.]

RC: Oh, but like you kept insisting... We don't deserve that.

[The arena goes black again... and what happens isn't sudden, it isn't
explosive. It just builds as Rob Cole steps between the ropes and
drops to the floor. It starts with the front row... some people in the
back. It becomes scattered and inconsistent, but there is applause.]

CL: Finally Rob Cole is ready for a war!

FH: Craven just needs to bury him for good this time.  No more head
games just go out there and finish him off.

CL: The match between Rob Cole and William Craven has been talked
about since the dawn of PVW.  Finally at End Game we get to see these
two warriors collide!

FH: Becareful what you ask for.  The last time you said that we
received a Meat Grinder match.  I can only imagine the stipulations
these two will come up with.

CL: Oh I wouldn't go that far.

FH: Barbwire scaffold Pen on a Pole Match.

CL: Is there even such a thing?

FH: Not yet.

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



...........THE RENEGADES!



["Know Your Enemy" by Rage Against the Machine bursts forth from the
PA system, as the crowd stands.  Some cheer, some just stare, but
either way, out from the curtains from JD and Devin! Each one takes a
side on the rampway, and raises their hands in the air, trying to
elicit some support!  As the brothers begin their approach to the
ring, taking time to slap some fan's hands on the way, there Uncle Sid
makes his way out from the curtains, following the pair down to the
ring.  JD elects to the take the steps, as Devin rolls underneath the
bottom ropes.  The take turns climbing the turnbuckles, working the
crowd, as the song winds down.  However, before the song completely
ends, the duo plays rock, paper, scissors to decide who starts the
match!]

CL: The Renegades have been a good addition to the tag team scene.
They have been embroiled in a war with Los Corazones for the better
part of the past six months.

FH: They should learn how to treat women better.

CL: Everyone knows that was an accident, Fred.

FH: Was it?  Looked pretty intentional to me.  And to add more salt to
the wounds of Los Corazones, it never appeared that the Renegades were
all that sorry about it.

CL: You could tell that Devin had remorse.

HD: And their opponents ...

[The image of mist covered mountains at sunrise is shown on the
videotron, as the opening notes to "Kung Fu Fighting" by Carl Douglas
begins playing.  As the sun rises, a ying yang symbol forms over it,
as two figures step out from behind the curtain spotlights appearing
on them.]

MUSIC: OOOOWOWOOOOOooooo... OOOOWOWOOOOOooooo...

HD:  And their opponents... the team of... LIVESTOCK ZAPPA AND
OOOOOOOHNOOOOOOOOOO!

MUSIC: OOOOWOWOOOOOooooo... OOOOWOWOOOOOooooo...

#Everybody was KUNG FU Fightiiiiing... (HAH!)#

MUSIC:  Everybody was Kung Fu Fightiiiiing (HAH!)#
Those kicks were fast as lightning (HAH!)#

[Ohno strikes a number of martial arts poses, making sure to emphasize
each of the "HAH"s in the entrance music with a martial arts kick, as
Livestock follows close behind, not sure what to make of things...
then walking noticeably slower as the ever energetic Yin Meili bounds
out wearing a Chinese tea dress, of all things, which she seem to be
wearing only a thong under, with the more classically beautiful,
though just as easy on the eyes, Violet Yang close behind
wearing a what looks like a 1930s era cocktail dress.  Livestock's
eyes, noticeably wander down as he... *ahem*... watches the
entranceway for sneak attacks.  Yes... that's it.]

In fact, it was a little bit frightening #
But they fought with expert timing #

[Though he is momentarily distracted from his "duty" when Zeke Craven
strides out wearing a silk robe and still smoking a Chinese pipe.
After a brief exchange the two return their attention to taking in the
view of the ladies in front of them as they continue down the aisle.]

There where funky China men from funky Chinatown #
They were chopping them up #
They were chopping them down #

[Ohno reaches the ring and leaps onto the apron, striking another
martial arts pose, before hand-springing over the ropes and landing in
a martial arts pose.]

It's an ancient Chinese art #
And everybody knew their part #
From a faint into a slip #
And a kickin' from the hip #

[Reaching the ring, and somewhat reluctantly taking his eyes off the
ladies, Livestock bounds up onto the apron slingshots himself over the
top rope into the ring next to his opponent.]

Everybody was Kung Fu fighting (HAH)#
Those kicks were fast as lightning (HAH)#
In fact it was a little bit frightning (HAHA)#
But they fought with expert timing  [fades...]#

CL: Ow and Livestock have proven to be a pretty good team.

FH: Did you have any doubts?

CL: Plenty.

[Lou Crowe turns and calls for the bell.]

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

PVW - HEATWAVE - TAG TEAM TITLES
The Renegades v. Livestock and Ow

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


*DING*DING*DING*



CL: It appears that Ow and Devin are going to start things off here
tonight.

FH: Is there a better team in the PVW then Ow and Livestock right now?
Who would have thought that they would turn out to be such a well
oiled machine.  You have to give Zeke a lot of credit, Chip.

CL: It appears that Craven has gotten the two men on the same page for
now.

[Ow points towards Devin and challenges him to meet him in the center
of the ring.  Devin Houlihan.  There is quite a size disadvantage, but
Ohno Ow acts if he is the bigger man.  Chest stuck out and a look of a
true Chinese warrior, Ow pushes Devin Houlihan, who doesn't budge all
that much.]

CL: It's going to take more then that to intimidate Devin.

FH: He better becareful.  Ohno Ow is a deadly warrior that is
respected through out the world.

CL: I don't know about that.

FH: Look at those eyes, Chip.  Might as well call him Rocky, because
he has the eye of the tiger.

[And Ow leaps into a round house kick that hits nothing but air.  He
then goes into an martial arts combination that is no where close to
Devin.  He then finishes off with a loud martial arts scream.  Devin
charges forward with a close range clothesline attempt.  Ow still in
"warrior" mode does a matrix style bend backwards duck.  Devin
rebounds and leaps over, Ow who has now dropped to the ground.  Devin
now back on the rebound blocks a hiptoss attempt by the tag team
champion.  He pulls Ow around for a belly-to-belly, but Ow swings his
arms sideways blocking out of the bearhug.  Ow unloaded with a rapid
series of quick palm strikes that stuns Devin backwards.  He then
spins low with a sweeping kick that takes the Renegade twin down to
the mat.]

CL: And Ohno Ow shows off his martial arts mixed with wrestling skills
and takes the bigger Renegade down to the mat.

FH: There is no way these clowns are going to be able to keep up with
Ohno Ow.

[Devin quickly back up and Ohno on the attack swinging karate chops
and strikes.  Devin is some how blocking most of them out of
desperation but is backed up into the corner next to Livestock.  Ow
reaches over and tags his partner in.  Devin fires out with a big
shoulder tackle that takes the smaller PAIN member down to the mat,
but runs right into Livestock who catches him into a front chancery
headlock and then swings and drops him down with a swinging
neckbreaker.]

CL: Devin has been on defense since the bell rang.

FH: The Renegades will be on defense when the bell rings again.  They
are clearly out matched against the PVW tag team champions.

[Livestock now pulls Devin to his feet and drives a few close range
forearm shots and backs him up against the ropes and sends him across.
Devin comes storming off the ropes and Livestock catches him with a
quick and lethal powerslam.]


"___THUUUUD___"



!!! ONE !!!




!!! TWO !!!




CL: NO!  JD right in to break up the pin.

FH: Already using cheating tactics?  This reeks of desperation.

CL: I am sure the Odd Couple will even the score.

FH: I don't like that name for their tag name.

CL: What would you like me to call them?

FH: How about Team Awesome.  Or simply Ow Stock.

[Livestock pulls Devin up and drives him backwards with an European
uppercutt.  He reaches back and retags in Ohno Ow again.  Ow hops back
over the ropes and inside the ring.  Livestock holds in him a full
nelson and opens his ribs up and Ohno Ow unloads with rapid fire
strikes.]


TWAP!

TWAP!

TWAP!

TWAP!

TWAP!

TWAP!


CL: And look at Ohno Ow go.

FH: He is one of the quickest superstars in the PVW.  I've heard he
can even catch a fly with chopsticks.  Ohno Ow can do it all, Chip!

[Ow with the shades of a soccer player  flips back and kicks
over his head nailing Devin with a bicycle Kick!]


"___SMAAACK___"


FH: Perfect shot!  I heard Ohno Ow played for China's world cup team
too.

CL: For what a B rated movie?

FH: That was uncalled for, Chip!

[JD at the encouragement of his manager, Uncle Sid, extends his arm
through the ropes cheering on his twin brother.  Ohno Ow quickly runs
over and kicks his palm and points to him telling him "he no makes
tag!"  Ow then turns and finishes helping Devin get back to his feet
and backs him up against the ropes again.  He goes to send him across,
but it's countered and Ohno Ow is the one on the run.  Devin catches
him in a tilt-a-whirl, but Ow in the spin catches his legs around the
neck area of the challenger and sends him down with a HHurracanrana.]

FH: WHOA .. Even Zeke is impressed there!

CL: Ow is one of the most talented men on the roster.  He just isn't
the most focused of wrestlers.

FH: It's hard being a world renowned soccer player, martial artist,
doctor, fly catcher, Oscar winning actor, and champion wrestler!

CL: I'd imagine.  I don't know where he finds the time to help the
elderly and feed the homeless.

FH: Exactly!  Ohno Ow is amazing.

CL: ...

[Ow applies a sleeper as Devin begins to push himself up.  Ohno Ow
changes the sleeper to a surfboard to work over the back of the
challenger.]

FH: Look at Ohno Ow in there.  He is a master of the _surf_ too.  I
bet he owns a lot of sex wax.

CL: Where do you come up with this stuff?

[... but thanks to the encouraging rhythmic clapping from the fans,
Devin pulls himself to his feet and Ohno Ow is forced to turn it into
a side headlock.]

CL: Devin starting to gain some momentum at the encouragement of his
partner, manager, and the fans!

FH: Livestock and Zeke are cheering on Ohno Ow so take that!

[Devin turns and lifts Ohno up and nails him with a back drop, then
bounces off the ropes and drops a huge leaping dropping first across
the face of the tag team champion and makes a surprising cover!]


!!! ONE !!!




!!! TWO !!!




[DANGIT POP!]


CL: No Ohno with a kick out, but Devin is getting some new life!

FH: New life?  How about for the first time in this match, Chip.

[Devin drags Ow over to his corner and tags in his brother, JD.  JD
roars in and pounds away at Ohno Ow with some snap jabs, and then
whips him off the ropes, catching him with a dropkick and makes a
cover!]


!!! ONE !!!




!!! TWO !!!




[Livestock was about to rush in and break up the cover, but Ohno just
gets a shoulder up.]

CL: Close call right there.  You could see the worry on Livestock's
face.

FH: Ohno Ow knows how to play the crowd.  Don't worry about a thing in
there.  He is putting on a good fight scene for the folks at home
watching.

[J.D. sends Ohno Ow into the corner and pounds away at him with some
more right hands, followed by some chops to the chest, then backs up.
J.D. charges and dives at him for an avalanche, but Ow dodges it
letting J.D. go chest-first into the top turnbuckle. J.D. backs up
into Ow who sets up for a snap suplex ... J.D. blocks it and lifts
Ohno
up in a big vertical suplex.]


"___THUUUUUUUUUUD___"


[POP!]


CL: And here comes Livestock, but J.D. is up and a spinning heel kick
just sends the other tag team champion down and rolling to the
outside!

FH: That can't happen!

[J.D. retags in his brother Devin.  The two work over the former PAIN
member and send him into the ropes.  J.D. picks up Ohno and begins to
fall backwards as Devin grabs a hold and DDT's him down to the
ground.]


"___THUUUUUUD___"


CL: Impressive team work by the twins.  Devin hooks the leg!


!!! ONE !!!




!!! TWO !!!




FH: No!  Ohno shoots a shoulder up and stays alive.

[BOOOOOO!]

CL: What's this ...

FH: Moral support, Chip!

[Livestock and Ohno Ow's tag team partners - The Gutch and Dr. Mal
Practice have made their way down to ring side apparently "watching
the action".]

CL: This can't be good for the Renegades.  Two men are hard enough to
deal with, but _four_?

FH: Hey Livestock, The Gutch, and PAIN stick together now, Chip.

[Devin now pulls Ohno up and sets up for a gutwrench powerbomb.
However Ohno uses his speed and instinct and slides out and unloads
into a series of palm strikes that stun Devin.  Both men have slowed
down into the ring and Ohno does a backflip and tags in Livestock ...
Livestock comes charging in, but Devin ducks under a clothesline and
dives backwards tagging in J.D.]

[DOUBLE HOT TAG POP!]

CL: That's a way to change things around in the match right there.

FH: Devin and J.D. are basically the same guy.  Nothing changed there.

[J.D. springboards off with a jumping knee and connects to an
unexpecting Livestock.  He then mounts the back of Livestock with a
chinlock, but Ow who is still inside the ring just in his corner
drills J.D. over the back with a roundhouse kick.]


"___TWAAAAP___"


FH: Perfect team work right there, Chip.

CL: DEVIN IS IN AND HE JUST SENT OHNO OW TO THE OUTSIDE!!!  He charges
and hits the opposite ropes and _SUICIDE_ DIVE TO THE OUTSIDE RIGHT ON
THE PAIN DOCTOR!


[HUGE HELL YEAH POP!]


FH: That should be illegal and listen to Zeke he is up on the ring
apron pleading his case right now.

CL: Nothing illegal about that, Fred.

[J.D. has a second wind however and goes to pull Livestock up.]

CL: Wait what is Mal has that briefcase.

FH:  Hit J.D., Zeke is a genius!

[He tosses the briefcase to The Gutch as J.D. goes to send Livestock
into the ropes, but it's reversed and Gutch (who is looking away from
the ring) swings the briefcase over his head and catches the Renegade
in the back.]


"___THUUUUUUD___"


CL: The Gutch just nailed J.D. over the back with that breifcase, but
the look across Mal Practice face and now The Gutch tells another
story!

FH: Wait what is going on around here?

[J.D. stumbles off of the ropes and Livestock sets the Renegade up
into a powerbomb where he then falls backwards, allowing the top rope
to bounce J.D. (by the neck) back into the ring and onto the mat.]


"___KAAAATHUUUUUUUD___"


[WE HATE THAT MOVE HEEL HEAT!]


CL:  The Hangman's Gambit!


!!! ONE !!!




!!! TWO !!!




!!! THREE !!!



FH: And Ohno Ow and Livestock have done it again!

[Gutch slaps his head with his hand as he sees that he has just
awarded Livestock and Ow the victory.]

CL: The Renegades showed flashes of why they are considered one of the
top and upcoming tag teams in professional wrestling.  However what
appears to be an accidental briefcase shot has cost them a chance at
wearing those titles.

HD: THE WINNERS OF THE MATCH ... AND _STILL_ PVW TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS!!!

[BOOOOOOOOOOO!]


... LIVESTOCK AND OHNO OW!!!

[Herc's announcement is immediately followed by Dr. Mal snatching the
microphone from him.  The six-foot-eight inch doctor turns to the ring
and points at the PVW Tag Team Champions.]

Dr. Mal: Alright, alright, that's enough.  We have officially had
enough!

[Gutch wanders over, nodding furiously in agreement.]

Dr. Mal: I'm healed.  Bartilucci is... well... as medically fit for
competition as he was before his leg injury.

[Gutch continues to nod, oblivious to the backhanded insult.]

Dr. Mal: So we want our tag team partners back.  All of this 'odd
couple' blather was a cute little diversion, but it's high time we got
back to some semblance of normalcy in our lives, isn't it?

[Ohno and Livestock look quizzically at one another, as if both men
are considering what Mal has just said.  Ezekiel Craven, however, has
found a second house mic (they grow on trees, you know!) and is ready
with a rebuttal.]

Zeke: Mal, Mal, Mal.  First of all, I want to wish you an early happy
birthday.  It's coming up soon, isn't it?

Dr. Mal: ...

Zeke: So, how old will you be?

Dr. Mal: ...

Zeke: Go on, tell them.  No, wait, don't bother.  Fifty-six year old
men don't need to exert themselves, but you're a doctor, you know
that.  You know all about the effects of aging on the human body.  And
I'm sure you know some of them first-hand, if you get what I'm saying.
So I was thinking... why would the hottest star of the silver screen
today have to wake up every morning not knowing how long his tag team
partner is going to be able to roll out of bed, choke down his
Metamucil, and get down to the ring to struggle with guys half his
age?  Hm?  Why waste the man's time?

Believe me, I know all about age, Mal, after all I retired due to my
age.  I'm old!  Not as old as you...  Still, you should know that I
feel your PAIN (ahem).  Nevertheless ... it's time to step aside.

[Ohno's single visible eye narrows as he looks at Zeke.  He's clearly
processing what Craven is saying, but it's hard to read his actual
reaction.]

Zeke: And Gutch.  Oh, man, Gutch.  You know I love you, buddy, but
when a man has to carry that much extra weight around ... a leg injury
can end a career.  You may feel fine now, but pick somebody up for a
slam and see if that knee can support over seven hundred pounds.  Run
around, bounce off ropes, take some kicks and shots to that knee.
Your size is great when it's time to jump on someone, Gutch, but when
it comes to the condition of your knees ... your ankles ... heck, your
lower back.  Ask Practice, he'll tell you.  After all, he's a
heftyweight himself.

[Mal starts to nod in agreement with Zeke... until that last statement
causes him to turn and shout in outrage.]

Zeke: In other words, Gutch, like always, I'm looking out for you.
You have a good, long career as a lawyer that is going to require that
you never show weakness.  And even in court, a cane, crutch, or
wheelchair is a sign of weakness.  You don't need to wake up every day
in agony, popping two Aderols and wondering if this is the day your
knees blow out for good.  And Livestock definitely doesn't need to
wake up wondering if his tag team partner is physically capable of
standing up on his own two feet in the ring.  Literally, Gutch.
Literally.

[These words cause Livestock to look down at Gutch with a somewhat
worried expression.  Whether he's worried about his partner or about
his own career is unknown.]

Zeke: So, in other words, as always, Broderick Ezekiel Craven has
solved everyone's problems by making the hard decision.  The decision
no one else has the guts to make.  You want to go back to normalcy,
Practice?  Well, I want you to take a good look.  Take a good look at
the new normal.

[Zeke hooks a thumb back at Ohno and Livestock, standing side-by-side
shouldering their shiny championship belts.]

Zeke: Y'know what?  I like that ... the new normal.  "The New Normal".
That is to say "your World Tag Team Champions, Ohno Ow and Livestock
Zappa, The New Normal!"

[And something about this proclamation sets Gutch off.  He starts
climbing up onto the apron and screaming.]

Gutch: I KNEW IT!  THEY HAVE A TEAM NAME!  WE NEVER HAD A TEAM NAME!
YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME, ZEKE!  WE HAD A DEAL!

Zeke: Done and done, Gutch my man.  I couldn't watch you throw your
life away, after all.  I always do what's--

Dr. Mal: You're done here, Craven.  One more word out of you, and I'll
remind you of your own life-long knee and back problems by
exacerbating them!

Zeke: I...

Dr. Mal: "I" is a word.

[And now Mal gets up on the apron.  Zappa moves to cut off Practice,
but Bartilucci chest-bumps him to plead for understanding.  And a
chest-bump from Gutch would probably move actual livestock, let alone
Livestock Zappa.  Mal walks up to Craven... only for Ohno Ow to stand
in front of him with a palm stretched out.]

Ow: Mal... NOT have to, DO this.  Tag TEAM champ-ions GOOD, pub-licty
for, MOVIE.  Wait until, release of movie, THEN we talk.

Dr. Mal: Ohno, your movie isn't releasing until December 2012!

Zeke: See?  See?  He knows he doesn't have much time lef...GGGGK!

[Mal interrupts Zeke's interruption by throttling him.  Ohno
interrupts that by kicking Mal's arms away.]

Ow: I told YOU, you RUSH too much!  As long as we, CHAMP-ions there
NO, reason to BREAK off DEAL.

[Mal and Gutch get simultaneous 'aha' looks.]

Dr. Mal: OK.  Ohno, you're absolutely right.  As long as you and Zappa
are the tag team champions, you'll stay a team.

Ow: Now YOU see sense!

Dr. Mal: Which is why Bartilucci and myself will be challenging you
for the tag team championships at End Game.

[The crowd erupts for that challenge.  Ohno's single eye widens, and
now Livestock is the one pleading with Bartilucci.]

Livestock: Gutch!  Tell him no!  No, no, no ... we're pals.  Legal
partners!  Just because I'm not tagging with you doesn't mean we're
not still partners, right?  And partners don't betray partners, right?
I forgave you for that nonsense with Bubba, remember!?

Gutch: No, you bitched at me right up 'til the day of my motorcycle
accident.  And hold on, they don't?  Maybe you shoulda thought of that
before decided we were gonna kick your butts at End Game!

Ow: This not RIGHT!  Mal, WHY you try, to RUIN my career?!

Zeke: Relax, relax.  Heh, nice bluff, Practice.  But, heh, you seem to
be forgetting something.  You and Gutch?  Let's just pretend for a
moment that you're not both big slow-moving superheavies who rely on
your tag team partners who actually have this thing you might have
heard of called stamina in order to set you up for the kill.  Let's
pretend that you don't already have a team name yourselves ... Dr. Mal
Practice and "The" Gutch Bartilucci, AKA "The Weak Links".  Let's
pretend you'd have a chance.  But... how would we know that?  You've
never teamed up.  You have beaten nobody.  And you're demanding a
chance at the tag team championship.  Over, say, Sal and Max.  Or the
Heat.  Or the Prophets Of Rage.  Really?  Even Fontana and Landis
actually WRESTLED somebody before somehow getting a title match.

Dr. Mal: You two didn't.

Zeke: Ah, ah, but there was a contract stipulation in play there.
They were getting Livestock's title rematch!

Gutch: But not mine!  _I_ never got a title rematch!  And you even
said we were gonna use that trick sometime to cheat somebody out of
two rematches if we lost the--

Zeke: GUTCH!  I, uh, don't think you need to be working yourself up,
blood pressure and all...

Gutch: No, Zeke!  It's time to turn the tables with your own damned
twisted contract legalese!  I helped draft my own contract, I know
what it says, and I'm using it!  Me and Mal are getting _my_ title
rematch, just like Livestock used his to get a match with Ow!  And
there ain't nothing you can do about it.

Dr. Mal: And just in case you feel like trying...

[Mal turns to the crowd.]

Dr. Mal: Who wants to see myself and Bartilucci against Zappa and
Ow... in a match where there's at least an 80 percent chance that I'm
going to break Zeke Craven's ribs?

[HUGE CHEER BREAK ZEKE'S RIBS!]

Dr. Mal: Try talking the PVW Championship Committee out of that now!

Zeke: You think I'm scared of you?  I am a martial arts master, mister
man!  And you only got them to cheer because of ... of...  You people
are sick, you know that?  Why would you want to see an old man like
Mal Practice hurt a visionary like myself?

[Zeke points out at the crowd in a sweeping gesture that does nothing
but draw more cheers at the idea of PVW's most omnipresent scumbag get
his comeuppance after more than 3 years of Teflon-level
untouchability.]

Dr. Mal: So until End Game ... the lawyer is in recess and the doctor
is out!

["Humanitarian" begins to play over the PA as Zeke Craven throws a fit
in the ring.  Both Ohno and Livestock stare in disbelief at their
former tag team partners as they exit the ring to the cheers of the
crowd.]

FH: Talk about slaughtering the golden goose.  Zeke took two imperfect
units and made the best possible combination, and now The Weak Links
are going to spoil everything!

CL: That's not their name.

FH: It is now.  At End Game, The New Normal against The Weak Links.
Actually "The New Normal" is kinda lame.  But "The Weak Links" fits
like a charm.

CL: Practice and Bartilucci weigh almost eight hundred pounds as a
unit, Fred.  Zeke Craven may be correct that they're both primarily
"finishers" in their normal tag teams, but think about how quickly
that team could potentially end a match.

FH: Against shlubs, yes.  Against Ow and Livestock?  No chance.  They
just burned their  bridges, Chip.  And after End Game, the tag team
division is gonna have more room in it, because we'll never see
Practice or Gutch show their faces again.

CL: End Game is taking shape.  We now have our tag team championship
on paper to go a long with the rest of our championship matches.
Earlier last month the first set of PVW DVD and Blue Ray sets were
announced and this weekend is the debut of former PVW superstar,
Spectre, Do you fear the dark?

[Fade to a black screen.   You hear the soft faint sound that slowly
gets louder and louder.]

THUMP!

THUMP!

THUMP!

THUMP!

V/O: He has been considered to be one of PVW's most vile superstars.
His career has been filled with controversy.

[Highlights of Spectre taking on opponents through out his PVW career
such as Charles Lassiter, Johnny Detson, Rob Cole, Tommy Ryder, and
many more begin to rifle through.]

V/O: May 2011 ... We ask you.

[Back to a close up to the goth superstar's face.  A past segment is
used as the voice of pure evil is heard.]

Spectre: Do you fear the dark?

[The scene switches to the center of the ring where PVW's own
"Swinging" Dean Hayes is standing with a wireless microphone in one
hand and a Bluetooth earpiece covering one ear.  A smattering of
cheers and boos greets him as raises the microphone to his lips.]

DH:  Ladies and gentlemen, as you know, I have been working diligently
on trying to track down just who it is that hired The Mercenary to
relentlessly go after Jessica Marshall and her clients.  We've heard
from Alex Epstein and Kyle Lee but now I've managed to get a hold of
another of Ms. Marshall's enemies from her past to see if we can
finally identify who's behind all of this.

[The crowd noises dies down to a murmur as the fans pay closer
attention.]

DH:  He's not in the building tonight but I have him on satellite link
right now... he's the former head of PVW Security and former manager
of Doc Holliday... here is... JASON KEENING!

[The giant videoscreen flickers to life and an image appears of a
head-and-shoulders shot of a familiar face.  Jason Keening's long
black hair is pulled back in a tight ponytail but die-hard PVW fans
instantly recognize him.  The Native American wrestling veteran is
greeted with a loud chorus of cheers but also a notable amount of
booing and jeering.  In the ring, Dean Hayes reaches a hand up to his
earpiece.]

DH:  Jason... it's Dean Hayes, can you hear me?

JK:  Yes, Dean... I can hear you just fine.

DH:  Good.  Before I begin, let me thank you for taking the time to
speak with us tonight.

JK:  Not a problem, Dean.  I may no longer be associated with the PVW
but that doesn't mean that I can't spare a few moments for you and the
fans.

[A loud whoop of encouragement can be heard from the crowd and the
sudden grin on Keening's face indicates that he can also hear what's
going on inside the arena as well.]

DH:  All right... well let me get straight to the point.  Everyone
knows the bad blood between you and Jessica Marshall over the years...
someone has hired The Mercenary to go after her and people want to
know... is it you?

[Keening's grin disappears and he sighs heavily.]

JK:  I absolutely loathe and despise everything that Jessica Marshall
stands for and nothing would make me happier than to see her taken
down a notch or three.

[This declaration sparks a loud cheer from the fans and Keening smirks
for a moment before continuing.]

JK:  But my record speaks for itself, Dean.  My problems with Jessica
have always been dealt with up front and face-to-face.  I've never
needed to sneak around to confront her in the past and I'm not about
to start now.  I've known Merc even longer than Jessica Marshall but
those who know me already know that I would never... EVER... hire him
to go after anyone, even Jessica Marshall.

DH:  So... just to be clear, you're denying that you have any
involvement with this?

JK:  That's right.  I'm quite happy to slip back into retirement and
obscurity.  I'm enjoying being able to spend time with my wife and
kids.  I don't know who's causing these problems for Jessica Marshall
but I can tell you right now... it isn't me.

[Dean Hayes nods and smiles.]

DH:  Well, thank you very much for clearing that up for us, Jason.
And thank you for taking the time to answer that question.

JK:  Sure thing, Dean.  But before I go, let me say one last thing...
I want to congratulate the PVW fans and the staff and the wrestlers...
you all are part of something special and you deserve a lot of credit
for that.

[Another cheer rises from the crowd and Keening waves at the camera
one last time before the screen goes dark.]

FH: WHO IS THE BENEFACTOR!?!?!

CL: I guess we can cross Jason Keening off the list too.  At this
point it appears we are going to have to wait until End Game and hope
we find out there.

FH: Some investigator Dean Hayes is.  Why are we even paying him?

CL: The Mercenary keeps things more tight lipped then anyone I know.
I can't even imagine how difficult this investigation was.  Either way
it leaves a giant question mark going into End Game.  Jessica Marshall
and Chance McKenzie have to be less than thrilled.  Herk Douglas is
now stepping inside the ring for our main event.

FH: We go from one clown to another.

HD:  Our next contest is for one fall, and is your MAIN EVENT for the
evening!!

[Main Event pop from the crowd]

CL:  This match has all the indications of being a great one, Fred!
Both William Craven and Sinister have big matches coming up at End
Game, and neither man can afford a loss here.

FH:  Great, another Craven/Sinister match up.  Why don't both of these
guys save us all some time and boredom and Sinister just lay down in
the middle of the ring and let Craven pin him.  That's what's going to
end up happening anyway.  Might as well get it over with and maybe I
can go find a decent steak in this Podunk  'burg.

CL:  While it is true that both these men have met several times in
the past and that Sinister has always seemed to come up short in those
encounters, I think you can forget about either man just lying down,
Fred.

FH:  Dammit!  I'm starving over here!  Let's just get this over
with... *WHUMP-ump-ump*

[With the sound of a thunderclap, the lights go out, and the world is
plunged into darkness.  Wind can be heard, chimed in through the PA
system.]

*Thump-thump*

[Red letters knit into existence on PVW's video wall, reading "It Gets
Worse!" then unravel to form a single red line.  The sounding of a
horrible heart is heard, the line reverberating with every noise
played over the PA.]

#I'm over it!#

[Those words, screamed in a-capela by one David Draiman, precede only
briefly an explosion of sound as "Forsaken" bursts out of the PA
system and into the arena.  The camera angle switches as tension
builds; red spotlights brightly illuminating the entrance portal and
the crowd waits.

Abruptly, an intense shower of blood-red sparks sprays out from before
the entrance portal, threatening to set the whole arena on fire.
Rising on a platform from beneath this flaming masterpiece
emerges a cloaked figure amidst a billowing cloud of smoke.

Reptilian blue eyes highlight the shoulders of his black vinyl robe.
Turning, he seems to, himself, stop the flames from shooting.  His
hooded head stares down at his gnarled hands, bound as they are in
red gauze, clutching a wooden katana in them.]

#You see I cannot be forsaken,#
#because I'm not the only one,#
#We walk amongst you feeding, raping...#
#Must we hide from everyone?#

[As if in reply to the lyrics, the dark figure strides powerfully
towards the ring as the lights die.  Darkness closes back in, broken
only by strobing flashbulbs as fans try to get a picture of what can
only be one man...]

HD: Hailing from Detroit, Michigan!  He weighs in tonight at 320
pounds!  Ladies and Gentlemen, this is William Craven!

[Climbing the ringsteps and coming to rest on the apron, Craven looks
out at the crowd one time before ducking between the ropes.  Thrusting
his arms out before him, William slowly parts them, reaching out to
his sides, the robe falling heavily into a heap on the mat, and
revealing his serpent-tattooed, muscular torso.  He then hands his
bo'ken off to the timekeeper and stands.

A mass gasp fills the arena as people get a good look at Craven.  Half
his head is bandaged and one eye is not just packed, patched and
bandaged but has actually seeped through with blood.  Shaking his head
one good time he seems a little woozy from his blood loss earlier in
the night.]

CL:  William Craven is really looking the worse-for-wear after that
vicious attack by Rob Cole during their contract signing earlier
tonight!

FH:  He may as well be wearing a big bulls-eye on his forehead!  Then
again, he is going up against Sinister.  That moron's probably not
smart enough to go after such an obvious injury!

HD:  And his opponent -

FH:  And speak of the moron -

["Schism" by Tool begins to pump loudly through the loudspeakers of
the arena, as the crowd begins to cheer.]

HD:  From Chicago, Illinois standing 6 feet 11 inches tall and
weighing in at 300 pounds – BIG DADDY SIN,  SINISTER!!

[The big man from the Windy City appears at the top of the platform
and begins striding toward the ring, his eyes zeroing in on his
opponent already in the ring.]

CL:  Sinister is looking really focused here.   How big would a
victory over William Craven here tonight be for Sinister heading into
End Game, Fred?

FH:  Like it matters!  At End Game," The Bad Wolf" is going to take
care of that big goof Sinister once and for all!  That is, if there's
anything left after Craven rips him yet another new one!

[Sinister enters the ring and both men meet in the center of the
squared circle for a stare-down]


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

PVW - HEATWAVE - NON-TITLE MATCH
William Craven v. Sinister

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


*DING*DING*DING*

CL: Now this is going to be a battle of epic proportions Fred!

FH: You're damn right Chip!  If anyone can shut Sinister up and do it
big time, it's Craven!

CL: Their locker room encounter was very eye opening and intense! I
have never seen Sinister look like that before!

FH: That's because he knows the 'monster' is going to tear him apart,
just as he said he would! Sinister is scared of Craven and he should
be.  Nothing or no one can stop him!

CL: I doubt Sinister is scared of Craven, Fred, but I'm sure he knows
he's in for one hell of a war tonight!

FH: Craven is going to destroy Sinister and I'll celebrate with a
steak as big as my head!

CL: Still hating on Sinister I see.

FH: I have told you numerous times, I just can't stand the guy!

[Just as they did earlier, Craven and Sinister slowly approach one
another, standing nose to nose, neither man saying a word. The look of
intensity in their eyes tells the story as the crowd is simply
electric with anticipation! The two behemoths stand toe-to-toe,
staring very intensely at one another, neither man backing down. After
a few moments, fists begin to fly!!]

[HUGE BATTLE POP!]

CL: Both men simultaneously began to unload lefts and rights and
neither man is backing down!

FH: Craven is stronger than Sinister...isn't he?

CL: I'm certain that they are of equal strength despite the six inch
height advantage Sinister has!

[Craven and Sinister wrap one another around the shoulders, fall to
the mat, and continue pummeling one another with fists! The referee
attempts futilely to separate the two and they eventually become
tangled in the ropes. Craven seizes the opportunity and thumbs
Sinister in his right eye, causing the big man to roll back and cover
his right eye with his right hand. Craven quickly gets to his feet and
levels Sinister with a right elbow to the back of the neck, causing
the big man to grunt in pain. Craven lifts Sinister and delivers a
right knee to the midsection, doubling the big man over.  He swiftly
whips Sinister into the far ropes and as he rebounds, Craven unloads a
massive right lariat...that Sinister ducks!  Sinister continues the
momentum, rebounds off the far ropes and delivers his own right
lariat, causing Craven to stumble backwards! Sinister quickly doubles
him over with a right knee lift of his own and blasts a right uppercut
into Craven's jaw, sending him tumbling against the turnbuckle!
Sinister motions for Craven to fight as Craven angrily rubs his jaw
and glares at Sinister!]

CL:  I'm not sure who got the better of that exchange, Fred!

FH:  Don't just stand there, Craven, get him!

[Sinister lunges at Craven and the two lock up collar and elbow.
Craven quickly slips back behind his larger opponent and knits his
fingers together with his arms wrapped tightly around the big man's
waist.  Sinister tries to pull Craven's hands apart and break his
grip, to no avail.  Sinister struggles to work his arms between his
body and Craven's arms, and again fails.  Finally, Big Daddy Sin
throws his right elbow back into Craven's right temple.  Despite the
heavy blow to his head, Craven still refuses to relinquish the hold.
Sinister launches another right elbow to the right temple of his
opponent, who continues to maintain his grip.  Finally, the frustrated
Sinister brings his left elbow straight back to connect with the
bandaged left temple and eye of William Craven.  Craven instantly
releases his hold and staggers backwards, his hand holding onto the
bandage over his left eye.  Sinister whirls to face Craven but pauses
when he sees him holding his bandaged left temple.]

FH:  Finally, the big dummy does something smart!  Go after that
injured eye!

CL:  I don't think Sinister intended to do that, Fred.  He looks just
as shocked as William Craven!   I think in his desperation to break
free from Craven's hold, he forgot the injured left eye of Craven.

FH:  You think that was an accident?  There are no accidents in
wrestling, Chip!  I'm just surprised that Sinister was smart enough to
come up with a great idea like that without any help!

[It looks as if Sinister is about to apologize to Craven for the shot
to the eye, but Craven rushes him and nails Sinister with a right
forearm to his jaw.  Sinister staggers back a step and Craven takes
advantage of the situation to grab his opponent's right arm, Irish
Whipping him into the ring ropes, as the 7 foot Sinister rebounds off
the ropes back towards him, William Craven grabs him around the waist
and delivers a hard belly to belly suplex on the big man!  He then
sits on Sinister's chest and begins wailing away at Sinister's face
with vicious left and right hands!]

CL:  William Craven takes the big Chicagoan down to the mat with that
devastating suplex!  Now he's peppering  Sinister's  head with those
brutal blows!

FH:  Yes!  Beat him!  Beat his big, dumb face in!

CL:  Real classy, Fred.

FH:  Speaking of class...

[The camera cuts away to show Christopher Black and Jacob Rose
watching the main event on a tv monitor in the backstage area.  Rose
is scribbling in a note pad furiously, while The Bad Wolf is nodding
his head up and down and smiling at the punishment being inflicted
upon Sinister in the ring.]

FH:  Now there's a real class act for you!  Christopher Black appears
to be enjoying what he's seeing!

CL:  While Jacob Rose appears to be doing some scouting for End Game.

FH:  That's his job, Lester!  That's what makes him so valuable!

CL:  I can't help but notice that Black and Rose are doing their
scouting from the safety of the dressing room, Fred.

FH:  Black is just showing some proper respect for an athlete of
William Craven's caliber, that's all.  That's probably why Rose is
taking notes on how he beats Sinister.

CL:   Well, I hope that he's taking notes on what's going on in the
ring right now, Fred!

[Sinister has managed to get his arms up to block some of the blows
raining down upon his head.  As Craven brings back his left arm to
pummel Sinister yet again, Sinister pushes him back and manages to
trap his left arm with his left leg.  Sinister then does the same with
the right arm of Craven.   Sinister pins Craven's shoulders to the
mat, and sits up, wrapping his arms around the waist of William Craven
and forcing him into a pinning predicament.  The ref quickly falls to
the mat and begins to count.]



!!! ONE !!!




!!! TWO !!!




[William Craven quickly brings his heel down sharply down onto the
forehead of Sinister, who releases him and rolls backwards away from
Craven.  Both men quickly scramble to their feet and face off once
again.]

CL:  Nice pinning maneuver by Sinister countered by a quick-thinking
William Craven!  Both men showing their years of experience in the
ring here tonight!

FH:  And a good part of those years was fighting against each other!
See, that right there shows why Sinister will always come up short
against Craven.  Craven's just too smart for him.  Of course, in
Sinister's case, that's not exactly hard to do!

[In the ring, the two men are exchanging blows once more.  Craven is
pounding mercilessly away at Sinister, while Sinister appears to be
taking care to the bloodied, bandaged left eye of Craven.  Craven
lands a heavy blow to Sinister's jaw which staggers him slightly, and
quickly follows up with a vicious boot to the mid-section of the 7
footer!  Craven follows up with another hard kick to the guts of
Sinister, forcing him back into the corner turnbuckle.  Craven grabs
Sinister by the hand, as if to whip him to the opposite corner, but
instead pulls him out of the corner into an Exploder Suplex!]

CL:  Simply devastating move by William Craven!  Sinister is down!!

FH:  Looks like another win over Sinister for William Craven.  I can
taste that steak now!

[Cover by William Craven and the referee is in position.]


!!! ONE !!!




!!! TWO !!!




!!! THR !!!




CL:  Kick out by Sinister!  Not even William Craven surely expected to
be able to get a pin on Sinister at this stage of the match, Fred.

FH:  Why not? He's already beaten Sinister so many times, it's pretty
much a foregone conclusion anyway !

CL:  Looks like Craven may be setting Sinister up for something that
may just do the job this time though, Fred!

FH:  Steak time, baby!

[William Craven pulls Sinister up to his feet, and places his right
hand on the throat of his opponent as he places his left hand in the
small of Sinister's back.]

CL:  We may be getting ready to see the Throatslam Suplex!  This could
very well put Sinister away!

[Just as Craven prepares to lift Sinister off his feet, Big Daddy Sin
drives his left elbow into the bandaged left eye of William Craven,
who immediately reels and staggers back!  Sinister grabs hold of
Craven by either side of his head and drives his own skull into the
damaged left temple of William Craven!  The dark red spot on the
bandage begins to grow even larger as Sinister delivers another head
butt to the bloodied eye of Craven. ]

CL:  Sinister is brutally attacking that injury to William Craven's
forehead and eye that he got at the hands of Rob Cole earlier this
evening!

FH:  Hmmm.  Maybe Sinister is a little smarter than I gave him credit
for.  Nah, probably not!

CL:  I guess we can see how much winning this match means to Sinister!
He's willing to pull out all the stops and take advantage of William
Craven's injury in order to finally get a win over Craven and get a
_huge_ psychological advantage heading into End Game!

[Backstage, watching on the monitor, Jacob Rose and Christopher Black
are looking from the image of Sinister mercilessly going after the
bandaged forehead of Craven to one another with concerned looks upon
their faces.]

CL:  Looks like The Bad Wolf and Jacob Rose are seeing how far
Sinister is willing to go as well!

FH:  Yeah, well, last time I checked, Rob Cole hadn't attacked
Christopher Black with a pen!

[Sinister seems to almost hesitate, but quickly delivers a large
closed fist to the left temple of William Craven!  The bandage is now
almost totally saturated with blood, and is hanging loose from
Craven's head.  Sinister grabs the bloody bandage and tears it off of
Craven's head.  He delivers another hard right hand to the now
profusely bleeding temple of William Craven and Craven collapses to
the mat!  Craven rises to his knees, but Sinister grabs hold of his
chin from behind and begins to pound away on the now exposed and
bleeding left eye of Craven. ]

CL:  This is getting absolutely brutal!  I know that Sinister wants to
finally get the William Craven monkey off his back, but this may be
going too far!

FH:  I knew even a dummy like Sinister couldn't pass up a huge
advantage like that!  Craven should've never come out for the match
after what Rob Cole did to him!

CL:  I may have to agree with you on that one, Fred!  It's certainly
come back to haunt him now!!

[Sinister pushes down and to the right on Craven's head, stretching
out his neck.  He digs the fingers on his left hand deep into the
nerves of Craven's neck.  William Craven cries out in pain from the
excruciating nerve hold!  The ref tells Sinister to release the hold
and begins to count to five.]


!!! ONE !!!




!!! TWO !!!




!!! THREE !!!




!!! FOUR !!!




!!! FI— !!!



[Sinister releases the nerve hold, only to deliver another clubbing
blow to the exposed bloody eye of William Craven.  Craven collapses to
the mat, but Sinister immediately begins to pull him to his feet.]
CL:  Looks like Sinister is setting Craven up for the "5 Knees of
Lamentation!"  He has Craven in that Muay Thai hold!

[Sinister delivers a series of 4 knees to the ribs of Craven and
forces Craven's head downward while bringing up his knee to connect
with the already bleeding forehead of Craven!]

CL:  5 KNEES OF LAMENTATION!!!  And that last knee hit Craven right on
that injured temple!!!  Craven has to be out of it, now!  There's no
way he can possibly recover from something like that!

FH:  NO!  Sinister can't win!  This can't be happening!!

[Sinister drops the nearly unconscious form of William Craven to the
mat, and then covers him, hooking the far leg.  The referee gets into
position and begins to count.]


!!! ONE !!!




!!! TWO !!!




!!! THRE— !!!



[ALMOST HAD HIM POP!]


FH:  YES!  Craven kicks out!

CL:  Unbelievably, William Craven managed to get one of his shoulders
up!  But he can't have much left!

[Sinister scowls as he pulls Craven back to his feet, and delivers
another vicious punch to left eye of his opponent, further bloodying
both Craven's forehead and his own knuckles.  Then, he  lifts William
Craven up off the mat and up onto his right shoulder.]

CL:  Sinister is setting up the Chi-Town Massacre!  If he hits this,
it has to be over!  And I don't think William Craven can possibly
esca-

[Just as Sinster is getting ready to drop Craven to the mat, Craven
manages to wriggle free of his grasp!  He lands on his feet behind the
7 footer and runs for the far rope.  As he rebounds off the ropes and
back towards his opponent, Sinister turns around just in time to
receive a front thrust kick to the abdomen by the returning Craven!]

CL:  Mafia Kick!  Mafia Kick by William Craven to the gut of Sinister,
and the big man is down!!

FH:  Pin him!  Pin him!

[Craven staggers to stand over Sinister as he writhes on the mat.  He
places a finger upside one of his nostrils and blows a blob of yellow
red matter out of his nose onto Sinister's back! The crowd groans in
disgust as he empties his other nostril onto his opponent and looks
out at the gagging fans, his eyes wild and blood pouring from his left
temple onto his face.  He stands behind Sinister as he gets up to his
knees and clasps his hands around the larger man's neck in a Chicken-
Wing submission!]

CL:  He's setting up for the Dead Zone!  William Craven may have just
snatched victory from the jaws of defeat!

FH:  What are all the rubes yelling about?

[William Craven has also noticed the capacity crowd reacting to
something, and looks toward the backstage entrance to see Rob Cole,
bloody ink pen in hand, standing in the aisle with a big grin on his
face.  Cole holds up the pen for all to see clearly and waves it back
and forth as he eyes William Craven.  Craven drops Sinister to the
mat, and dives over the ring ropes.  Cole just stands there and
motions for him to bring it on as William Craven makes his way down
the aisle towards Rob Cole, only to be intercepted by a veritable army
of security and backstage personnel.  As they do everything to keep
the crazed and bloodied Craven from reaching his tormentor, the crowd
chants "Let them Fight!  Let them Fight!"]

FH:  Yeah, let Craven go.  Maybe Cole can take out his other eye!

CL:  Something tells me that would be an extremely bad idea, Fred!
These men will have all the chance they need to get their hands on one
another at End Game!

[Back in the ring, Sinister has managed to get back up to his feet, he
looks out of the ring towards the huge ruckus in the aisle.  The
commotion has him so distracted, that he doesn't notice the presence
of Christopher Black sliding into the ring from behind him with a
metal chair.]

CL:  What's Christopher Black doing out here?

[As if to answer Chip's question, Black sneaks up behind Sinister and
gets the bigger man's attention.  As Sinister whirls around, the Bad
Wolf nails him in the skull with the metal chair!  Sinister is
staggered, and Black hits him again in the head with the chair,
leaving a considerable dent in the seat of the chair, and a bloody
gash on the forehead of Sinister.  The referee calls for the bell as
Black stands over the fallen Sinister and smiles broadly.]

FH:  Laying out Sinister that's what!  This is great!  Not only does
Sinister lose  another match to Craven, but he gets his brains bashed
in by Christopher Black!

CL:  This one's going to go into the books as a no-contest Fred, but
regardless of the outcome of the match, it looks like Rob Cole and
Christopher Black have both made some pretty emphatic statements
regarding their matches at End Game!

[The damage has been done as the camera catches a close up at the
smile on the Bad Wolf's face.  He begins to step through the ropes as
the Tombstone fans continue to boo, give the thumbs down, and flip the
England born wrestler off.]

FH: Such disrespect for one of our top rising stars!  Rob Cole
distracting William Craven is alright, but Christopher Black getting
some much deserved revenge isn't?

CL: Much deserved revenge?  Sinister hasn't interfeared with
Christopher Black all night.

FH: That you have seen.

CL: Folks we'll be right back as this chaos gets sorted out!

[Melodramatic music plays as the famous Sherlock Holmes and Henry V
quote runs across ...]

"The game is afoot"

[The PVW Television Championship Belt on a black back drop starts from
a distant view and grows closer and closer ...

Fades.

The PVW American Championship Belt on a black back drop starts from a
distant view and grows closer and closer ...

Fades.

The PVW Tag Team Championship Belts on a black back drop starts from a
distant view and grows closer and closer ...

Fades.

The PVW World Heavyweight Championship Belt on a black back drop
starts from a distant view and grows closer and closer ...

Fades.

Music stops as we hear the cheers from the PVW Fans ... It cuts into
last End Game the ladder in the center of the ring.  Chaos all around
- Chairs/broken tables/ and PVW wrestler after PVW wrestler
motionless.  The camera shifts and hanging from the ceiling is the
famous brief case that holds the Called Shot.

Fades.

Across the screen we see.

PVW End Game Returns ...

MAY 2011!]

CL: Folks thank you for tuning in.  What a night it was ... There were
many answers here tonight as we look towards that finish line that is
End Game.

FH: But we still don't have a referee for the Main Event of End Game!
How can that be?  I wonder if Pete Hernandez is free?

CL: I hope not.

MLH: Ah got a workaround fer this.

[Ah, here comes Matthew Holliday again.  No music, no protracted
enrance, he's just going to speak on the wireless mic while he comes
to the ring.]

MLH: So ah reckon we cain't git a referee fer our title match.  Fine.
Ah don' want no referee anyhow.  Ah'm comin' ta git shed o' Rick
Marley, an' referees jus' tend ta git inna way when it gits serious.
Allus cryin' about "ya cain't hang a man, it's illegal!" an' "ya
cain't piledrive a man onna concrete, it's immoral!" an' "ya cain't
pull a man's heart out through his mouth, ah gotta weak stomach!".

So as far as ah'm concerned, ah say we don't need no ref!  All we need
is a match whar they ain't no ref.

Me, ah'm thinkin'...steel cage.

[HUGE POP!  CAGE MATCH!]

MLH: Of course, we all saw whut happened inna last two cage matches
PVW had. Gibson Hayes, forced ta wrassle without an infantry division
an' artillery support, found out thet he ain't exactly ready fer prime
time if he's all by hisself.  Oh, decent, sure.  But by hisself... he
got beat an' left half-dead.

Marley?  Half-dead woulda been an improvement.  Oh, he won his match,
sure.  Thar wasn't nothin' left aftahwards but five pounds o'
connective tissue an' half a eyeball, an' Bill Craven coulda finished
him fer good right thar if'n he wan'ned.  But ah reckon them two
months in an' outta hospitals aftah he got whut was left of his arm
raised dulled his enthusiam fer this kinda match.  Especially when ya
don't win by leavin'.

So thar it is.  Cage match, nobody leaves, nobody else gits in, winner
take all. Is this a good idea?

[Cheer!]

MLH: Or is this a GREAT idea?

[CHEER!]

MLH: I got ten bucks says th' other two'll start cryin' in three...
two... one...

[Once again folks, the ruckus has returned. Eliot Lipp's "Rap Tight"
(
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=puunw6YEHIA&feature=
player_detailpage#t=39s starting at the 39 second mark). Walking down
the aisle is Gibson Hayes, Todd Johnstone, Bubba Hayes and Evelyn
Prosser. Todd and Gibson have microphones at the ready while Gibson's
security staff is threatening audience members.]

Todd Johnstone: Matt, I've known you for some time and I know you
really are this ignorant and headstrong, but, really, you also know
exactly who you're [TV-EDIT] when you mess around in the affairs of my
clients...

[Gibson pats Todd on the shoulder.]

Gibson Hayes: ...but he sure as sunshine doesn't know how it is to
actually beat Gibson Hayes. You are coming out here to offer a cage
match to, how'd you word it? Offer a whole bunch of mumbled crap to a
definitive end. I know you think I am going to shy away. You think I
won't forget the pain and blood that oozed out of me when Herscher von
Donkerhardt managed to get by me with every single advantage in
his corner.

[Some cheers for Holliday and the Netherlander Submission Machine.]

GH: We both know Marls is a gunshy about throwing his life into the
fire against someone like you where there's no escape. But you forget
who trained me; who taught me about this business; and who's name I've
taken to great heights.

[Todd looks at Gibson and looks like he's about to say something but
holds his tongue.]

GH: Yeah, you heard right, Todd. I've learned all I can and the one
thing I really took to heart is that only ignorant, spotlight seeking
glory hounds always fight on their terms. I'm a prick.

[The crowd agrees!]

GH: I'm a low down son of a bitch.

[More agreement!]

GH: I'm the snake coiling itself on the tree of knowledge.

[They are missing the point.]

GH: I am the last, best hope for America's bright future and better
tomorrow but I won't back down just because you want to use a cage.
That title is my damned birthright and I will take 13 pounds of flesh
from your hide and I will break Rick Marley over my knee to get it no
matter what silly little stipulation you come up with. You are afraid,
Matthew. Afraid that a younger, hungrier predator has already taken
your place atop the food chain and that that snarling beast is going
to go for your throat, again. So, let's get this crap out of the
way...

[Gibson's rant is cut short as "Saints of Los Angeles" by Motley Crue
cuts in over the PA System...and moments later "Widowmaker" Rick
Marley comes storming out of the back, the heavyweight title on his
shoulder and a wireless mic in hand.  He walks down the ring, clearly
irritated, then slides under the bottom rope and glares at the two men
in the ring.]

RM: Y'know, I'm starting to wonder if you've got a learning
disability, Hayes, I keep on finding you saying my name... which just
makes me want to come down here and slap it out of your smug mouth.

[A mixed cheer/boo.]

RM: Or I can listen to Holliday miss the point and run on about how
he's gonna end me.

[CHEERS~! The crowd gets a dirty look from Marley.]

RM: I'm sick to death of hearing about it...and so are they. So let's
get this figured out so we can finally get to the part where I hurt
you.

[All three men are in the ring, staring at one another, it looks like
a donnybrook is about to break out when a loud voice comes over the
public address system.]

Putter: Excuse me, gentleman. While I know our fans would love to get
a free preview of the hell on earth the three of you are going to
unleash on one another, that would hurt our bottom line.

[Some boos from the crowd that wants to see free blood! Putter keeps
his business like demeanor.]

CL: And the fans not liking being denied some good, old fashioned,
hate fighting!

FH: Damn you, Putter! He's robbed me of seeing Matt Holliday killed! I
hate waiting!

Putter: The committee and board of directors have found a solution to
your predicatment. Phoenix Valley Wrestling is pround to announce we
have found a referee for the 3 way match on the pay per view!

Marley: I thought we covered this already. I'm the champ, *I* get to
say who officiates the match.  Bad enough it's a three way dance... I
should at least get THAT much...

MLH: Ah, hell, let fifteen feet o' steel officiate it.  Less'n ya'd
rather use titanium.

[Todd is screaming at Putter as his microphone has been cut off and he
has just been told something by Evelyn Prosser. Johnstone's face is a
bloated red ball of rage.]

GH: Wait... you're getting Santa Claus to officiate this match because
that's just about the only man who could qualify.

[Putter smiles.]

Putter: This could qualify as a gift from up north, yes. After looking
at all our options, all the contractual restrictions made by our over
eager financial officer, Sindley Q. Pidmore III, we finally found a
solution. He's someone three of you are familiar with and he's just
defiant enough to not put up with any of you three and the BS you are
likely to pull. Ladies and gentleman, I give you PVW's special guest
referee...

[A very familiar seething, adrenaline-infused metalesque combination
of guitar, bass and drums then rises to prominence, through the
rumbling PA ... And Rick Marley's cool demeanor begins to rapidly
evaporate.  Matt Holliday frowns and shakes his head. Gibson looks up
the aisle and sees the man who's emerging and says to Todd: "So, wait,
they did get Santa Claus; I'm impressed though he looks fatter in
person," while Todd grits his teeth.

The fans in the building figuratively 'raise the roof' with a
deafening volley of ecstatic cheers, as "Something Wicked" by Nuclear
Assault continues to herald the arrival of a man who is considered in
most people's minds as a Legend. His long, grey hair flowing freely
over his goatee'd facade, the muscular, 6'4" 'Era Of Defiance',
bedecked in a sleeveless referee's shirt/black denim jeans/ black
boots ensemble, marches more prominently into view.]

Putter: Gabriel Whitecross!

[Clenching his meaty right fist, the heavily tattooed 267lb Englishman
momentarily raises it skywards, acknowledging the crowd's continuing
adulation. With the merest hint of an amused smile painting his face,
Whitecross purposefully positions himself next to Putter, at the top
of the aisle. As the music fades, Marley is the first to voice his
rather emphatic objection.]

RM: Is this some sort of God D[BLEEP]ed joke?  Whitecross can't be the
official... he's not unbiased.  He can't stand me!

MLH: NO, dangnabbit, Whitecross ain't gonna let me do whut ah came ta
do!  Ya say ya want order, an' THIS is whut ya do?  Yer jus' makin' it
worse!

GH: Uh... why should I give two craps about Saint Niklaus coming down
to officiate a match? Big fat hairy...

[Johnstone yanks the microphone out of Gibson's hands.]

TJ: God damn it, Gibson, shut up. No, flat out: no. No [TV EDIT] way.
You marmoset molesting, pig fisting, yak guzzling creeps backstage are
not pulling this [TV EDIT]!

Putter: All three of you are against it?

[The parties invovled, except Gibson who asks Todd why he should be
afraid of Santa Claus, agree they disagree.]

Putter: Then it sounds like I made the right choice!  This gives
nobody an advantage!

[HUGE HAPPY POP from the faithful! Taking his cue, Whitecross now
accepts Putter's microphone, with a nod of respect. Gabriel is all
business.]

GW: Let it be known that I ... I am honoured to be here.

[The cheers renew.]

GW: ... And furthermore, let it be known that I am indeed honoured to
officiate a match at "End Game" that will surely display the ultimate
in pride, passion and unfettered hostility. It is my job to ensure
that justice prevails ... and prevail it will; irrespective of how
you, [he stabs a finger toward the ring], gentlemen, feel about both
me and my given role. For my part, it makes no difference if you are
friend, stranger ...

[His gaze turns abruptly toward Marley. Predictably, it is less than
friendly.]

GW: ... or foe - If you step over a line, I will pull you back in.

[Much to the audience's delight, Whitecross' intensity doubles. With
it comes a fire in his voice that is unmistakable.]

GW: And if any of you believe that you can somehow 'buy me', blackmail
or intimidate me, then think again. I WILL NOT compromise my beliefs,
and I absolutely WILL NOT shy away from confrontation ... So with that
said ; Hayes ... Holliday ... and Marley; I will be seeing you ... I
will be seeing you oh so soon ...

[HUGE ROARING POP!!!!]

FH: WHAT!?!?!

CL: Gabriel Whitecross is the special guest referee!  OH MY LORD ...
FOLKS WE ARE WAY PAST OUR TWO HOURS MARK.  THANK YOU FOR TUNING IN ...
SEE YOU AT  --

END

GAME!

[The camera catches the faces of the four men in quick rapid fashion.
Their eyes tell four different stories.  Revenge, Determination,
Hatred, and Justice!]