[A simple, old PVW backdrop and a man at a desk. This man looks to be
in his early 40s and has brown, dull hair with some graying at the
temples. Dressed in a tweed jacket and sweatervest, he smiles for the
camera.]

Hello, I am Alan Parkhurst and I have been tasked with archiving and
elaborating on a few things that happened while PVW was reorganizing.
There were several incidents that occurred and this bit of archival
footage will explain just why Herscher von Donkerhardt was allowed
back into PVW despite legal troubles. Warning, there is graphic
language ahead.

***FADE***

[Your typical, sterile, white, shiny hospital hallway is the initial
area the shot travels through. Eventually, thanks to some loud
yelling, the camera finds a very ordinary single bed hospital room...
only with a fat, greasy man screaming at a young, black haired nurse.
This it Todd Johnstone and he has a metal bed pan in his right hand.
He is slamming that bed pan against the wall and screaming, so,
nothing really out of the ordinary except the hospital part.]

No, I am not fine you sloppy [TV-EDIT] wallet that parades around as a
nurse to have the chance to fill her [TV-EDIT] full of [TV-EDIT] on
days you aren't playing train tunnel with the Goddamned yaks at the
zoo! Get me a real [TV-EDIT] professional, now! And get me more
morphine! This bag's out! Run! I don't care if you're dragging your
overly visited folds on the ground! I need more drugs!

[Yes, there is a camera crew showing Todd in a hospital gown, he's
laying down though. We are spared the bare bottom of the offensive
obese powder keg.]

Damn it, it is like there is a thick crust of alpaca [TV-EDIT]
compacted in those ear canals after her four footed [TV-EDIT]fest with
a [TV-EDIT] chaser.

[Todd winces as he puts his right arm up to his neck brace. Todd's
left arm is in a sling and Johnstone has a black eye.]

Herscher, you piece of escaped fetal material from an aborted litter
of puppies at a retarded dog puppy mill, I hope you're happy. I hope
it is warm in jail and I hope your ass is bleeding after being treated
like the new prison fish!

[Johnstone winces once more, but his dry, cracked lips curl up in a
smile - a smile that reveals yellowed teeth.]

I got you, you piece of Euro-trash. I got you by your pubes... wait,
you probably shave down there so you can be the life of your tranny
orgies. I don't care though, you are throughly [TV-EDIT]. You don't
even know just what the hell you have gotten yourself into, do you?
You by-product of a semen stain and a downie who was too [TV-EDIT]
retarded to realize what she sat in... or what daddy did to her in the
toolshed. You aren't even good enough to be a rape baby, more like a
regurgitated sperm conception.

Licking his dried lips, Todd has a slight twinkle in his eye.]

No one gets away with [TV-EDIT] with Todd "The Godforsaken Rod"
Johnstone. Not you, not the teacher that pounded your man round all
those nights in the Netherlands while whispering sweet nothings from
Mein Kampf to you in post coital fascist bliss, not no one. This is
beyond money...

[Todd looks shocked at what he says but shakes it off.]

No... no, this is more important than money, this is about me wanting
to see your second [TV-EDIT] socket ripped out and you left voiceless
and bleeding, a wreck and broken.

[Johnstone's voice goes from yelling to harsh, seething but
controlled, near whisper.]

I _MADE_ your mentor.

I _BROKE_ your mentor.

[Todd throws the bed pan over the heads of the camera crew, it lands
with a loud crash and we hear a yelp from a possible nurse coming to
sedate Todd further. Johnstone sticks a bloated, stubby finger at the
camera.]

And, you pile of pig[TV-EDIT], you vomitous left over from a game of
cover the cookie, I will _BREAK_ YOU! I will, Goddamned mother[TV-
EDIT], God as my witness, Satan as my pride will break you! I will
[TV-EDIT] break you!

[Todd is breathing heavily, beeps are heard everywhere, and the heart
monitor shows he is at 167 beats a minute. A nurse, sorrowfully, comes
in to do her job.]

Nurse who has rushed in thanks to all the beeping: Mr. Johnstone,
please! You can't take this sort of...

[Uh-oh.]

SHUT YOUR [TV-EDIT] HOOVER YOU [TV-EDIT] GUZZLING [TV-EDIT]RAG! You
hear me Herscher? You hear me, boy? You Nazi pile of [TV-EDIT], I will
show you a struggle. I want you dead! DEAD! You hear me? DEAD! I'll
watch your "fah-tear" shed a tear over you and realize he will never-
fucking-escape. You are mine. Your soul is mine. And I will tear it
apart, playing a game of he loathes me, he loathes me not with it in
the bathroom of a Denny's that is covered in feces, [TV-EDIT] juices,
[TV-EDIT] cream and piss!

I've already told Gibson I want a cage. I want to stain that ring with
your blood, I want to flood the world with it! I want this to be a
gory message to a coward who hides from me in whatever little cottage
he ran off to in whatever frilly little [TV-EDIT] fantasy land he
lives in over in Europe. You are dead! You are both dead! [TV-EDIT]
YOU!

[The camera crew is rushed out as Todd continues to spew vile tidings
as we go to black.]

***FADE***

[Back to the desk with Alan Parkhurt.]

AP: I have Mr. Johnstone on the phone. Todd...

[The raspy, dripping with just simmering anger voice of Todd Johnstone
blares from the audio feed.]

TJ: Alan, I hate your God damned queerbo guts you socket wrench
sucking [TV-EDIT]. Let's get this over with as quickly as possible,
nitwit.

AP: Yes, yes... we have shown your hospital footage and am wondering,
what happened after that incident?

TJ: What do you think happened, you piece of gutter trim? I had to go
to physical therapy and still have neck problems! PVW had a heap of
legal troubles thanks to a) their disregard of my safety by allowing
Herscher into that match, b) my injuries, c) other lawsuits I am not
at liberty to discuss. Thankfully, PVW has seen to it to give me what
I want: Herscher back into this fed so I can finish him off once and
for all in that ring. Maybe not right now, but soon. So, [TV EDIT] off
ass miners.

[Parkhurst squeezes the bridge of his nose.]

AP: And there you have it, from the troll's mouth. More on the
ramifications of this incident and the legal troubles of PVW later
this month. For PVW, I am Alan Parkhurst saying good-night.

[Fade to Black and oh so nice silence after Todd Johnstone was on the
tube!]

V/O: Once atop of the Wrestling world all eyes upon us ...

[The loud chanting sound of - P V DUB !!!  P V DUB !!!  can be heard
in a jammed packed Madison Square Garden.]

V/O: Growing at an alarming rate.  Wrestling's best traveling the
globe night after night ... Legends returning ...  Stars being born!

[Highlights of some of PVW's best action over last year is shown.]

V/O: Rome ruled the world longer than any civilization known to man,
and it took decades for the juggernaut to fall.  For PVW it seemed
like it happen overnight!

[A top looking down view of an empty PVW ring.  The lights to the
arena is off and only a small light shines down in the center.]

V/O: Rumors of her demised swirled for months.  Superstars began
accepting work elsewhere.  Men who stood and bled for PVW's foundation
were forced to hold banners elsewhere.

[Shots of men like Gibson Hayes - Perry Fontana - Caleb Foley are
seen.]

V/O: PVW loudly raised to the top of the wrestling world, but in
return quietly drifted off and started to become an after thought.

[Black screen.]

V/O: Until ...

[The opening chords to Guns and Roses ... Live and Let Die begin to
play as hard hitting highlights from days of PVW past ...]

.... A rebirth of a fallen juggernaut.


... Back to it's roots.


... 52nd Street Armory.


... Phoenix, Arizona.


... We bring you Heatwave.


... Traditional wrestling at it's finest.


... Phoenix Valley Wrestling


[Black screen.  Five seconds later we have a countdown.




_FIVE_




_FOUR_




_THREE_




_TWO_




_ONE_




Camera cuts inside the 52nd Street Armory and we are back to where it
all began.  The jammed back welcome back crowd are as rabid as ever!
As with most wrestling shows - You see merchandise being sported all
over the crowd and signs of all nature being shoved high in the air.

The Phoenix fans have a sense of humor tonight.  SSN = So Sorry
Network!   Rick Marley sleeps with the fishes!  America may love you
Gibson, but Phoenix hates you!  Bury me Cole!  This is Doc's world and
the rest of you are just allowed to be here.

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: We are back in black and home where we belong in Phoenix, Arizona!
It's been a long few months, but finally here we stand before you ...
Our loyal fans!  PHOENIX VALLEY WRESTLING is back on the AIR!

[POPPAGE!!]

I am your host Chip Lester and my partner in crime is the one and only
Fred Hoyle.  It's good to be sitting here back on the air with you
Fred!

FH: Of course it is!  It's great to finally be paid again!  Living the
life style of a superstar like myself isn't cheap.  Even though we are
back in ma's basement in the middle of the desert it's better then
waiting in the bread line.

CL: As most of you have noticed the three letters P V W sit alone
inside the middle of the ring.  We are back to our roots at good old
fashion wrestling at it's finest.  There are many familiar names.  We
have a familiar Main Event tonight as the PVW World Heavyweight
Championship is back and our Champion Rob Cole will be defending it!

FH: I can't believe they let that lunatic back out to wrestle.  The
last time we saw him he was trying to _KILL_ one of our own.

CL: Fred is speaking of Rick Marley of course.  The former Widowmaker
Captain hasn't been heard from in quite some time.  So we move on into
a new era with out Rick Marley or the Widowmakers.

FH: A moment of silence for the man who _made_ PVW what is became.
With out him we are all doomed.

CL: Marley did a lot of amazing things in his time inside the PVW.
However this is a new era ...  A rebirth if you will and perhaps it's
best he goes the way that SSN went.  Let the guys all about putting it
all on the line go out there and rebuild the foundation.

FH: You are just sore he smacked you around the last time we were on
TV.

CL: That does leave a bitter taste in my mouth, but I will take pride
knowing Rick Marley will end his career inside the PVW ring as empty
handed as he joined.

FH: Oh that is just cold Chip.

CL: Standing backstage we have the hardest working man in the
business, Dean Hayes standing by with William Craven.

[Cut to the backstage area.  Standing before a banner of the PVW logo
is PVW's intrepid interviewer "Swingin'" Dean Hayes.  The hardest
working man in PVW (just ask him) holds a microphone in his hand and a
forced smile stitched across his abnormally tense face.]

DH: Fans, Dean Hayes here, and joining me is a man who has been a
mainstay in the world of professional wrestling since he burst onto
the scene in 1999.  They call him the Motor City Madman, the Devil's
Hand, the Green Man or, simply, William Craven.  Bill...

[Stepping back from the center of the PVW logo, Dean looks up as a
towering green-tattooed, razor-toothed, split-tongued self-made man-
monster enters the scene.  Glaring down at Dean, Craven hisses in a
disapproving whisper.]

WC: Is that what you know of me?  Broadcast professional that you are,
all that you know of William Craven begins the day he first steps foot
in the Empire.  In 1995 I first set foot in a wrestling league, in
1997 it officially became my career, no, my life ... and in 1999 ...
that was not my first life but when the world first learned to fear my
name.

DH: No, uh, Bill, I know ... you.  I know you started earlier than
that man, I'm just reading off questions prepared for me!

[The nearness of William to Dean is clearly stifling to the
interviewer, who steps back almost out of the scene.  Bill actually
catches him by the wrist that holds the microphone and pulls him back.
Dean, who has experienced Bill's wrath before, stiffens up, falls
silent, and waits for it to subside.]

WC: I'm sorry, do you not like being corrected?  You'll have to
forgive me ... I am an open book, you see, my emotions leak from me
like from a sieve.

[Note: Bill's anger still evident, his words do nothing to dull the
fear Dean exudes.]

WC: I find myself now in such familiar surroundings, months lost have
not dulled the intensity of my obsession, being treated as equal to
individuals whose names hold no awe for the hoi polloi.  I find it
frustrating.  There was a day when I was on the verge of standing
bestride the world, holding hostage the crown sought by all, and yet
... each time a chance comes for one to wear that crown that chance is
given another!  I fear my youth squandered...

[Jerking away from Dean, Bill faces the back wall, head hung low.  Our
intrepid interviewer swallows hard, then steps forward, microphone at
the ready.]

DH: I ... I'm sorry Bill, but we have to move on.  I understand your
distress at not yet claiming gold here in PVW but you have a match up
next tonight against Chris Hartt.

[Chuckling sardonically, Bill shakes his head in disbelief but says
nothing.  He turns his head back to Dean, his sick grin creating deep
furrows all over his scarred and wrinkled head.]

DH: Chris Hartt is a major talent, Bill, and a man who you have a
history with.  You might remember that, at the first PVW Blood Bowl,
he was your partner in the preliminary round.  Many have said that he
was the strong link in the team.

[More chuckling, but Bill comes back out of his shell, seeming almost
jovial, his moods swinging like a pendulum.]

WC: Heh.  Aheh, well, we'll find that out now, won't we?  I sincerely
doubt that Hartt has ever truly had to face a man like me.  None that
have escaped my notice have ever met a man such as me ... for there
are none.  Many have attempted to lay claim to my throne; the throne
of madness but none are worthy.  Simon Ezra, Bad Eye McBaine, Caleb
Temple; all these and more have I been compared to.

Some even claim to be the original, the mold, from which I myself am
cast.  This is the greatest insult that can be made.  Whatever threats
have found Hartt in their crosshairs, both in his short career here
and the long stall that led up to his recent return, pale in
comparison to myself; true heir to the throne.

DH: So ... you aren't taking him seriously?  Do you really assume
you'll have such an easy time tonight against a resurgent Hartt?

[His smile fading, Bill hunkers down somewhat, coming eye to eye with
his interviewer.  He exudes a more fiery demeanor as he growls his
answer, his voice full of spit and gravel.]

WC: Assuming...?  You would assume otherwise?

DH: No, I, uh, well, he is a potent submissionist!

[Bill hunkers down lower, coming nose-to-nose with his interviewer,
grasping the hand that holds the microphone again.]

WC: Have you even been paying attention?  Do I REALLY need to prove
myself once more!?  Nearly two decades later, IS THERE STILL DOUBT!?

[Panicking, a bug-eyed Dean assumes a pleading posture, holding the
flat of his palm up to Bill as one might do when confronted with a
strange dog.]

DH: Mister Craven, I!  I'm not your opponent!  Your opponent is Chris
Hartt!  Please!

[Squeezing his eyes shut, Bill breathes heavily through his pointed
teeth, flicking his split tongues out between them one time.  Dean
flinches, turning away from Bill as hot air and spittle hit him full
in the face.  With visible effort, Bill twitchingly releases Dean's
wrist, then grabs it again, more gingerly this time.]

WC: "Mister Craven"?  Oh, Dean, hehe, so formal...

DH: Formal?

[Opening his dark-rimmed and ice-blue eyes, Bill stares intently at
Dean, trying to see into his soul.  Pulling back bodily, Dean tries to
escape.  Bill lets him, but retains the microphone.

Rubbing his face with one hand, Bill lifts the microphone to his chin,
then flicks the tips of his fingers up and over the back of his head.
He exudes an air of barely constrained fury as he stares directly into
the camera which zooms slowly in on his craggy green face.]

WC: Years come and years go.  The only constant is the violence.
Focus on the violence.  Focus on what must be done.  Unavoidable.
It's not my fault.  Always...

[Squeezing his eyes shut again, Bill grimaces, lowering his head in
seeming grief.]

WC: Without the violence there is only void.  I do what I do not for
pleasure, not for spite, but because I have to.  To depart is suicide;
self-condemnation to entropy; to nothing...

To avoid the apathy of entropy, I become a servant.  An avatar...  I
am the Madness, my tool is the Violence and my fuel is all the Rage.
Survival...

[Opening his eyes again, a single tear falls down Craven's left cheek.
A vein throbs and twitches in his right eyelid.  Scowling, he seems to
fight some urge, the tendons in his necks extend, forming ropes that
extend from his jawline to his collarbone.]

WC: Chris.  Hartt.  We don't know each other well, do we?  Give me no
excuse and you'll escape unharmed ... perhaps.  Call attention to
yourself and I can't be held responsible for the consequences.  I'm
sure that you have a family at home.  I'm sure ... you have children,
friends, some sort of activity you enjoy.  Maybe a garden that needs
tending.  Domestic duties...

You face a man tonight ... who has nothing.  A tool of the violence.
It's portal into the world.  There is a golden apple up in the highest
branches of the tallest tree and somehow, SOME WAY after all these
years I find myself still standing upon it's roots.  You, Chris, after
we began this journey at Phoenix Valley's inception, somehow after you
LEFT and came back, somehow ... we stand together on the same level.
Somehow ... to reach that first branch ... I still have to step on
you.

[Sneering, baring his sharpened teeth, Bill glowers further into the
camera lens, his sunken eyes shimmering wet with emotion.]

WC: Perhaps in another time, another place you and I might have been
compatriots, but no...  Your grave is dug, dug with a spade of silver,
two coins wait to be placed upon your eyes so that you may pay the
ferryman and not tarry too long on the near shore of the river styx...

Years on years and scars on scars it gets worse.  It gets worse!  IT
GETS WORSE!  Blood is shed by the buckets, the red sea is filled, I AM
The End...

[Swallowing hard, Bill chokes back a sob, his face pinches as his eyes
squeeze shut once more before his face relaxes, deadpan.]

WC: ...and I'm sorry...

[We cut back to the announcers.]

CL: Craven looks like he is dead set on making Chris Hartt pay in some
sadistic way.

FH: It's the Craven way Chip.  I wouldn't want to be Chris Hartt here
tonight that is for sure.

CL: Herk Doulgas is headed inside the ring and we are about to find
out!  What a way to start Heatwave off tonight!

HD: Ladies and gentlemen this match is scheduled for one fall.
Introducing first ... He is our former PVW Rising Phoenix Champion ...
The Paladin Chris Hartt!

['Unbreakable' by Fireflight plays over the speakers and fills the
arena with pulse-pounding energy. Video of Chris Hartt plays on the
screens, showing him flying off of the ropes and applying punishing
moves to past opponents. Hartt makes his way out from the back and
salutes the crowd with both arms up in a cross-like gesture.  Hartt
makes his way to the ring, mounts a corner turnbuckle and repeats the
gesture.]

HD: "And his opponent..."

[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']

HD: "Hailing from Detroit, Michigan.  He weighs in tonight at 320
pounds.  This is WILLIAM CRAVEN!"

[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, ready for his match.]

************************************************************
************************************************************
** Phoenix Valley Wrestling - Tag Team Action -           **
** One on One Action -                                    **
** William Craven v. Chris Hartt                          **
************************************************************
************************************************************


}



CL: There's the bell-

FH: And William Craven's not wasting any time! He charges at "The
Paladin" Chris Hartt and forces him into the corner..

[William Craven pushes Chris Hartt into the corner and begins lacing
him with big right hands. The crowd begins counting with his fist, and
they get to 9 before Chris Hartt comes to his senses and reverses it,
throwing William Craven into the corner and returning the favor. The
Referee gets in between them and breaks it up after 10, but William
Craven charges out of the corner and nails Chris Hartt with a running
lariat. William Craven bounces off the ropes, and Chris Hartt springs
back up.. and goes back down again with another lariat from William
Craven.]

CL: Explosive opening to this match-up, neither playing any games.
William Craven bounces off for a second time, but-

FH: Chris Hartt sweeps his legs out form under him, and William Craven
hits the mat hard! Get up, William Craven!!!

CL: He does, and a HUGE running kneelift from 'The Paladin'! Chris
Hartt picks up William Craven..

[Chris Hartt locks up with William Craven in a collar and elbow tie-
up.  Chris Hartt takes William Craven to a side headlock. William
Craven tosses Chris Hartt to the ropes, who bounces off and comes back
at William Craven with a high-cross body block into a snapmare
followed up with a low dropkick to William Craven's now-seated back.
Chris Hartt gets up and drags William Craven to a corner, then applies
a few stomps to William Craven's chest, then climbs up to the second
turnbuckle and flips off with a moonsault. William Craven brings his
knees up and nails Chris Hartt on the landing.]

CL: The crowd liked that series of moves by both men...

FH: Well, it seems as if both men are trying to make a statement here
on The Rebirth of Phoenix Valley Wrestling.

[William Craven and Chris Hartt both back on there feet and begin to
pace around the ring while the crowd is still on its feet from the
series of moves just a few moments ago.  As both men peer into each
other, the crowd begins to get anxious and, as a result, the two
wrestlers charge into each other with a collar and elbow tie-up in the
middle of the ring.]

CL: Another collar and elbow tie-up..

[As both men fight and struggle to gain control of the hold, Chris
Hartt shows that he wants it more as he backs William Craven into the
turnbuckle corner where the referee asks for a clean break.  'The
Paladin' obliges.....as William Craven reaches over the referee's head
and decks Chris Hartt right in the face...]

CL: Chris Hartt charges at William Craven with a full head of a
steam........OH MY! William Craven moves out of the way and Chris
Hartt hits face first on the turnbuckle.

[As Chris Hartt hits on the turnbuckle, William Craven gets behind him
and drops him to the mat with a thunderous belly to back suplex.  The
crowd goes crazy as William Craven picks Chris Hartt up and whips him
into the ropes.  On the comeback, William Craven catches Chris Hartt
with a hip-toss takedown and then follows it up with a standing leg-
drop right across the neck of Chris Hartt.  With Chris Hartt down,
William Craven goes for an early pin attempt...]

FH: What a fool!

CL: William Craven trying to end things early..



!!! ONE !!!



FH: Not even a two count!

[The crowd pops a little bit as Chris Hartt kicks out of the pin
attempt. William Craven pulls Chris Hartt to his feet, scoops him up,
slams him hard back down onto the mat. William Craven takes his The
Paladin's legs and puts him in a spinning toe hold right in the middle
of the ring...]

CL: William Craven has the hold locked in and Chris Hartt is going to
have to either break it or get to the ropes...

[However, William Craven breaks the hold himself after exerting as
much pressure as he can on the leg of Chris Hartt.  Wasting no time,
William Craven picks his opponent back up and puts him in position for
a vertical suplex.  All of a sudden, though, Chris Hartt props his
foot up and blocks the hold.  From out of no-where, Chris Hartt takes
William Craven and gives him a suplex of his own....sending the crowd
into a wave of cheers.]

CL: What a beautiful reversal by The Paladin right there but it seems
like that move to a lot out of him also.

FH: And that is why Chris Hartt will never be anything more than a
mid-carder. He does not know how to pace himself.

[William Craven and Chris Hartt reach their feet at the same time as
Chris Hartt backs William Craven into a corner and nails him with a
few hard chops to the chest. 1.. 2.. 3.. The crowd Whoos with every
chop.  Chris Hartt grabs William Craven by the head and runs, driving
him to the mat with a bulldog.  Hartt climbs to the top rope and
steadies himself, then leaps off with an elbow, but William Craven
rolls away just as Hartt lands on the mat with a hard thud.]

FH: And that is why William Craven is a future World Champion here in
Phoenix Valley he should that he baited The Paladin into that move.

CL: He might have baited him into that move but William Craven needs
to find himself now that "Showtime" Rick Marley isn't here to tell him
what to do.

[William Craven picks up a dazed Chris Hartt, bounces off the ropes
and goes for a flying clothesline, which Chris Hartt ducks. Chris
Hartt grabs William Craven's stretched-out arm, and maneuvers it into
a pumphandle slam. William Craven pops right back up, and Chris Hartt
bounces off the ropes, but..]

FH: Another great move by William Craven there, with a jumping knee
lift on a running Chris Hartt.

CL: I think William Craven may have landed a little wrong there,
though, Fred, because he is grabbing on his left upper calf..

FH: It looks like William Craven landed a little awkward on his left
leg, and Chris Hartt capitalizes immediately by dropkicking William
Craven left knee.

[William Craven grimaces in pain as Chris Hartt grabs William Craven's
arm and wrenches his right arm back. 'The Paladin' sweeps William
Craven's legs out from under him, and William Craven crashes to the
canvas with Chris Hartt on top of him, still with the armbar locked in
place. After about 20 seconds of working the right arm, he lets go and
immediately moves into a reverse chinlock, sitting way back on William
Craven's back. The referee is now down on the mat, asking William
Craven if he wants to give up.]

CL: I think we all know what his answer is.

FH: William Craven's not going to give up from a little chinlock.

[As if hearing what Fred just said, Chris Hartt sits back even farther
on the back, and William Craven begins to laugh almost as if he is
enjoying the pain of this move. After a few more seconds of this,
though, William Craven finds a way to struggle up to a kneeling
position, and Chris Hartt drops the hold. He whips William Craven into
the ropes, and grabs him in a side headlock on the return. He drops to
a kneel and pulls back on the neck.]

CL: Impressive technical display here by Chris Hartt, keeping the
powerhouse challenger grounded, for the time being anyway.

FH: Yeah, and he hit that nice suplex earlier on. Chris Hartt has
definitely come to play today.

[Chris Hartt is getting a little annoyed at this point since William
Craven is refusing to give up, and drops the hold, letting William
Craven fall to the mat face first. Chris Hartt picking William Craven
up and decking him right in the face with a stiff forearm shot. While
William Craven is dazed from the shot, Chris Hartt bounces off the
ropes and runs into William Craven with a high knee lift right of his
own into William Craven's face. With William Craven down, Chris Hartt
begins to fluidly kick at William Craven's midsection before looking
at the crowd and then picking William Craven back up.  Still in
control, Chris Hartt takes William Craven and whips him into the
ropes.  Off the comeback, William Craven is rocked with a thunderous
powerslam by Chris Hartt who then follows it up with a pin attempt.]

!!! ONE !!!




!!! TWO !!!



CL: And William Craven kicks out at two and a half..

FH: Listen to the crowd get behind the Blood Bowl Champion here
tonight!

CL: I think the crowd wants to see this match go on a little longer
and that is why they are cheering for a man like William Craven.

[With the crowd on its feet in support of this match, Chris Hartt
picks up William Craven and decking him with another stiff forearm
shot.  Chris Hartt attempts to follow up with another forearm shot
when...]

CL: William Craven blocks the forearm and he rocks Chris Hartt with a
shot of his own!  Chris Hartt looks a bit stunned......and William
Craven just drove him to the mat with a beautiful belly to belly
suplex.  William Craven is going for the pin.......

"___THUUUUUUUUUUD___"



!!! ONE !!!



!!! TWO !!!



[Chris Hartt kicks out at two and a half but, as soon as he gets up,
William Craven catches him in another belly to belly suplex and goes
for another pin attempt...]



!!! ONE !!!



!!! TWO !!!



CL: Chris Hartt kicks out and he looks ticked off....he rushes in at
William Craven and, once again, William Craven catches him and drives
him to the mat with a beautiful spinebuster slam.  Once again, William
Craven is going for the pin........


!!! ONE !!!



!!! TWO !!!



[Chris Hartt yet again kicks out but, before William Craven can catch
him, he rolls out under the ropes to take a breather.  Seeing this,
William Craven executes a baseball slide and, as he hits the floor,
Chris Hartt pops him in the mouth with a stiff fist to the face and
then he follows it up by ramming William Craven shoulder first into
the ringpost.]

CL: Chris Hartt is looking a bit winded and he tosses William Craven
back into the ring.  William Craven is favoring that shoulder and he
might have done some serious damage to it when Chris Hartt threw him
into the post.

[Now in control again, Chris Hartt stomps away at William Craven's
shoulder before picking him and driving him to the mat with a
beautiful double underhook suplex.  Wasting no time, Chris Hartt picks
William Craven up, shows him to all of his fans, and drops him right
on his knee with a devastating shoulderbreaker. Seeing the
opportunity, Chris Hartt goes for the pin...]



!!! ONE !!!



!!! TWO !!!



CL: And William Craven gets his foot on the rope at the last possible
second.

FH: Great ring awareness by the monster William Craven.

CL: Chris Hartt has William Craven back up and he whips him into the
ropes. Chris Hartt with a lariat....NO.....William Craven ducks.....he
comes back.....and OH MY!  William Craven just turned the Paladin
inside out with a monstrous clothesline.  However some of the wear and
tear has taken Craven back down to the mat also.

[Now, both men are down on the mat as the crowd is going wild.
However, before the referee can make the ten count, William Craven
gets up and locks Chris Hartt in an inverted figure four leg-lock
right in the middle of the ring.  As the crowd cheers on, they nearly
drown out the screaming by one Chris Hartt...]

CL: William Craven has that hold locked in tight and I don't know if
Chris Hartt will be able to make it to the ropes in order to break the
hold.

[As William Craven locks the hold on harder and harder, Chris Hartt
digs deeper and deeper to find the strength to break the hold.
Finally, after nearly a minute of pure agony in the hold, Chris Hartt
reaches down with everything he has and reaches the ropes, forcing an
immediate break from William Craven. However, William Craven does not
continue the onslaught on Chris Hartt as he picks his opponent up and
drops him right back down with a devastating knee-breaker. Chris Hartt
is now screaming on the mat in pain as he knee is terrorizing him.
William Craven has Chris Hartt back up in his control and he whips him
into the ropes.  On the comeback, Chris Hartt holds onto the ropes in
order to prop himself up but, all of a sudden...]

CL: Here comes William Craven and he goes for clothesline...

[William Craven begins to start charging at Chris Hartt. 'The Paladin'
ducks and back body drops William Craven over the ropes and onto the
floor. Chris Hartt glances out towards the crowd one more time, then
goes on the outside and grabs William Craven by the arm, and tries to
shoot him into the ring post. William Craven reverses it, however, and
sends Chris Hartt in. He catches Chris Hartt while he's stumbling, and
bulldogs him onto the steel ring steps. William Craven throws 'The
Paladin's back into the ring, and then slides underneath the bottom
rope himself. William Craven  lands with a legdrop across Chris
Hartt's throat. A smile comes across the face of William Craven as he
picks Chris Hartt back up...]

CL: Chris Hartt hit William Craven with a vertical suplex earlier,
looks like William Craven wants to pay him back for that..

FH: WOW! Right into a piledriver!!!

[The crowd pops for the nonstop action in this match again as William
Craven goes for a pin off the move...]

!!! ONE !!!



!!! TWO !!!



CL: Still fight left in Chris Hartt! And listen to the crowd go nuts,
Fred!

[William Craven is slowly back onto his feet and he picks Chris Hartt
up as well.  With Chris Hartt up, William Craven tosses him back into
the ring where he soons follows.  Now back in the ring, William Craven
picks his opponent up whips him into the ropes.  On the comeback,
William Craven gets Chris Hartt up and presses him straight into the
air...]

CL: William Craven has Chris Hartt in a press hold and, wait a minute,
William Craven lets go but he grabbed Chris Hartt's legs and pulled
them into his body!!! Chris Hartt just landed on the back of his head!

[William Craven still has Chris Hartt by the legs and, now, he sling
shots The Paladin behind him into the turnbuckles.  However, Chris
Hartt doesn't go down but he wobbles a bit and stumbles all the way
into a waistlock by William Craven.  With Chris Hartt in his control,
William Craven connects with a devastating twisting belly to back
suplex but, on the way down, Chris Hartt hits face first on the mat
and is nearly knocked out with the impact.]

FH: WHAT A COMBO BY WILLIAM CRAVEN...

CL: William Craven is going for another pin attempt....


!!! ONE !!!






!!! TWO !!!




!!! THREE !!!

CL: NO!!!! NO!!! CHRIS HARTT GOT HIS SHOULDER UP JUST IN THE NICK OF
TIME...

FH: WHAT THE HELL...

CL: Careful Fred were not on Cable TV anymore...

FH: I do what I want when I want Chip!

[Back in the ring, William Craven has picked up 'The Paladin' Chris
Hartt and goes to Irish whip him into the corner but Chris Hartt
reverses it and throws William Craven into the corner. The Paladin
goes charges at William Craven and hits him with a high knee lift to
the jaw. Chris Hartt then grabs the head of William Craven and goes
for a running bulldog out of the corner but William Craven pushes
Chris Hartt into the ropes. On the rebound William Craven goes for a
clothesline but Chris Hartt ducks underneath it and then springboards
himself off the ropes as soon as William Craven turns around and ...]


"___THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD___"



FH: WHAT A HEART PUNCH BY CRAVEN!!!

CL: Interesting choice of move by Craven.

FH: Better yet did you see how limp Chris Hartt body went after that
Heart Punch...

CL: I mean with the issues Manson and Craven have with one another.
Craven must be sending a message to the Misery Machine.

FH: I have to say Craven's looked better!

[Chris Hartt is laying motionless in the center of the ring as William
Craven is seen sitting up on the mat with an evil grin on his face.
William Craven crawls over to Chris Hartt and hooks both legs...]



!!! ONE !!!






!!! TWO !!!




!!! THREE !!!



CL: OH MY GOD THE PALADIN KICKED OUT...

FH: HOW THE HELL DID HE MANAGE TO DO THAT.

CL: THE PALADIN SHOWING HE HAS A LOT OF HEART HERE TONIGHT...

FH: LOOK AT WILLIAM CRAVEN...

[William Craven can not believe Chris Hartt just kicked out of the
Heart Punch and begins to choke the life out of The Paladin. The
referee's is trying to get William Craven to break the chokehold as he
begins his count...]

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

CL: And finally William Craven breaks the hold.

FH: Yeah but I do not think he is done yet...

[William Craven picks up Chris Hartt and Irish whips him into the
corner. William Craven follows it up with a massive clothesline and
then grabs Chris Hartt by the hair and begins to slap him with his
open hand. William Craven sees the tag team rope and wraps it around
the neck of Chris Hartt. William Craven then goes out to the apron and
grabs the ring rope and begins to choke Chris Hartt with it.]

CL: Someone has to stop William Craven. He has just snapped...

FH: No one in the back is gonna come out. 'The Paladin' has no friends
here in Phoenix Valley Wrestling..

[The referee's is yelling at William Craven and is telling him to
break the hold and William Craven starts foaming at the mouth as the
referee's begins his count...]

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

[The referee's is warning Craven and finally the monster just drops it
and gets right up in the referee's face growling showing his teeth.]

CL: Craven better watch it.  This isn't SSN's PVW right here.  The
referee's have orders to keep order inside the ring at all cost.

FH: Zero Tolerance!?!?! NOOOOOO!!!

[Craven snarls away as Hartt rolls on the mat holding his throat
coughing.  Craven stomps to the turnbuckles and he is ripping it apart
away from the ring.]

CL: What is the point of this?

FH: I think Craven has a plan for Chris Hartt and that's to give him a
one way ticket to the Phoenix ER!

CL: The referee is trying to stop Craven ... CRAVEN SHOVES HIM OUT OF
THE WAY!

FH: You don't get in the middle of William Craven and a plan of
attack!

[Craven yanks the Paladin to his feet.  Hartt tosses a few soft
punches trying to fight off the juggernaut.  However Craven with a
_brutal_ head butt puts a stop to that!]

CL: Goodness!

FH: Now that's using your head.

[Craven then yanks Hartt up with both hands as if he was going to go
for the Thundermelter ... However he turns and just uses all of his
force and basically tosses - shoves him and sends Hartt throat / under
chin first right into that exposed turnbuckle ...]

*** OH GOOD GAWD NO HEEL POP ***

CL: The referee is calling for the bell he isn't taking anymore!

FH: Oh come on like that was pushing the envelope!

HD: The winner of this match as a result of a Disqualification ...
'THE PALADIN' CHRIS HARTT!!!

[William Craven is irate and begins to yell at the referee's. The
referee's is telling him to go to the back as he is checking on the
condition of Chris Hartt.]

CL: William Craven just got himself DQ on purpose it seems...

FH: I think William Craven was having to much fun inflicting pain on
The Paladin.

CL: I think William Craven just got frustrated that he couldn't put
Chris Hartt away.

[William Craven is seen still on the outside of the ring and he is
pulling stuff from underneath it. William Craven is throwing steel
chairs, brooms and mops into the ring as he then kicks over the ring
steps on his way up the entrance ramp.]

CL: What is the point of this?

FH: Making a statement Chip.  That PVW needs to clean up the crap
inside the league like Chris Hartt.

CL: We hope Chris Hartt is okay.  With Rise from the Ashes II around
the corner and his match set to take on another former champion in
Chase Williams that is one match we don't want to miss.

FH: Does that mean Chris Hartt could be competing for the PVW World
Championship?

CL: I guess it does if Chase Williams wins tonight.

FH: Oh man that is going to piss William Craven off even more!

[A nice applause from the Phoenix natives as Chris Hartt is up to his
feet.  Still holding his throat area, but appears to be okay.  He
gives a thank you to the fans as the is helped to the outside of the
ring.

Cut to the PVW backdrop in the back where "Swingin'" Dean Hayes is
already standing, microphone at the ready!]

Hayes: Hello fans, Dean Hayes here with the Network champion ... the
Masked Maniac.  Maniac, welcome.

[Hopping into place (seriously, hopping, like from foot to foot)
Maniac comes to face Dean.]

MM: No Dean, welcome to you!  It's a great day to be alive, isn't it?
The sun is bright ... earlier today anyway, lunch was some delicious
Pad Thai (yummy) and I'm the Network Champion.  It just can't get much
better.

[Cocking one eyebrow, Dean checks behind him to make sure there aren't
any more Masked Maniacs, then turns back.]

MM: Expecting someone else?

Hayes: You just seem so chipper.  It's quite a transformation.

MM: It's just finally sunk in on me ... I've arrived.  You hear that?
Half my life I've devoted to this business and finally ... I have
arrived.  It's like a man in prison finally being set free.  The air
is sweeter, the water's cleaner, and nobody's behind you in the
showers.

Hayes: Uh, what?

MM: Okay, that last part's not really true.  Or is it?  I lose track
sometimes.

[Dean shakes that off because, let's face it, only bad things lie in
that conversational direction.]

Hayes: Maniac, you are hot off your nearly record-setting win over
Perry Fontana.  I believe the official time was only about 15
seconds--

MM: Don't forget Hayes.  I also have a win in the books over Gibson
Hayes.

Hayes: Uh, right, but--

MM: And no more need be said.

Hayes: Right.  Well, Maniac, you're facing off against PVW's warrior;
Larry Gionet.  How do you like your chances of winning the match and
defending your championship?

MM: Well, I know Larry Gionet and Larry Gionet is no Perry Fontana.  I
mean I'm taking him seriously, but I don't exactly have the
butterflies like I did when facing down Perry.

[Beat.  Pause.  Shrug.]

MM: Also I probably won't, y'know, sneak up on Larry after fooling him
into thinking he's injured me using a decoy.  That's for a few
reasons.  One, I'm fresh out of decoys.  Two, well, he's probably not
going to try to injure me.  He's a good guy.  I think...

Hayes: And what about Perry Fontana?  Aren't you worried that he'll
come looking for the Network Title, and you, again?

[The emphasis in that first sentence was on the word "about".  It's
clear from both Dean's tone and Maniac's manner that Perry is first on
both men's minds in this situation.]

MM: Oh yes, Perry Fontana does have a return match coming, doesn't he?
Dean ... I'm sorry to be so blunt, especially since Perry still seems
to consider me his "friend", but I've got that greaseball's number.
He's all physical, no mental and he's way too confident.  Again I have
to point to my philosophy of thinking "Positively Negative" as my
greatest strength in the ring.

Hayes: Wait, what is that?  Why'd you say it that way?

MM: Oh, "Positively Negative"?  That's a book title I'm shopping
around for a self-help thing.  Is it okay?

[Hayes thinks hard.  Again, this is new, as a few months ago anything
coming out of Maniac's mouth Dean would've just rolled his eyes at.]

Hayes: Well ... it got my attention, so it can't be that bad.

MM: Great!  The whole idea is to be happy with low expectations so
that when things go well it's always a great thing!  Most people
expect a baseline of success, you see, b--

Hayes: Back to the subject, Maniac.

MM: *pop.*

[That was Maniac releasing his tense lips after making the "b" sound
before.]

Hayes: So you think you have Perry Fontana's number?

MM: Eh, well, I certainly think I stand a chance, if that's what you
mean.  The thing about Perry though, he's a climber.  He never
appreciated this title when he had it.  I bet he's already angling
after the American Heritage or World Title or something.

Hayes: You don't think he'll be vindictive?

MM: Vindictive?  Why?  If you're keeping score it's him like ... ten
him one me!  I'm sure we'll be cool in no time.

Hayes: I see.  Well, anything else before I let you go?

MM: Uh ... PVW has come home!?

[Mad cheers emanate from the arena.]

Hayes: What was...?

MM: Hey, I'm all about the cheap heat Dean.  See you tonight at the
victory party!  Whoo-hoo!

[Maniac leaves, stage left, as Dean shakes his head.   We stay
backstage and the camera fades in and you see "The Celtic Crippler"
Caleb Foley walking down an almost empty hallway. All you see is a
bunch of sound guys and some officials talking in the corner. Caleb is
dressed in his wrestling attire already set for the eight man tag
match later on but he is carrying a brown paper bag in his right hand.
Foley then enters one of the doors and you see Max Weinrib and Salih
Mubarak just standing there looking at Foley. Foley sets the brown bag
next to his leg as he begins to talk ...]

Caleb Foley: Hey mates how are you guys doing ...

[Max and Salih look at one another and then look at the bag next to
Caleb's right. Caleb notices this and flashes a smile.]

Caleb Foley: So I guess you want to know what is in the bag.

[Weinrib and Mubarak both nod as Foley rips open the brown paper bag.
Max and Salih eyes light up like a kid on Christmas morning as it is
revealed that Caleb was carrying a 24 pack of Heineken.]

Caleb Foley: I tried to find Guinness also but everyone knows it is
better off the tap. Consider this a token of my appreciation for
teaming with me tonight.

Sal:  Oohhh.... we like.  We'll have to celebrate together after the
match.  Unfortunately, we didn't thin...

Max:  Yeah!  We got you something also, Caleb!

[Sal gives Max a 'what the hell?' look, Max shrugs, and both Max and
Sal begin looking around the hallway.  As they scrounge, Sal
continues.]

Sal:  So... what are you thinking?  Us and Herscher against Detson,
Hayes...

[Sal grabs an 'Exit' signs and holds it up.  Max shakes his head.  Sal
sighs and puts it down as he continues.]

Sal:        .., and the tag team champs.  Anything special we should
be worried about?

Caleb Foley: Lets see we have some corrupt lawyers, a American champ
who thinks he is the voice of the American people and then a man who
is still trying to find himself inside the ring.

[Max grabs a broom, pauses, then shakes his head and drops it. Caleb
just shrugs as he continues ...]

Caleb Foley: Just another day at the office so to speak. God is it
good to have Phoenix Valley Wrestling back. It feels so good to be
back home.

Max:  I've got it!

[Max pulls out a dusty duffel bag.  Hanging out of the back is a
jacket.  On the zipper of the bag is a note that says 'PROPERTY OF. R.
MARLEY'.  Max quickly rips off the tag and hands it to Caleb.]

Max:  Here you go, Caleb.  We hope it's your size.

Caleb Foley: Thanks guys but you really didn't have to do that.

[Caleb tries on the jacket and it is a perfect fit.]

Caleb Foley: Alright so after our match tonight we will go out and
celebrate our victory. And don't worry guys drinks are on me all
night. I saw a nice little small pub that is only a couple of blocks
away from here.

[Max and Sal shoot each other a look and nod enthusiastically.]

Max:  I like the way this guy thinks.

Sal:  Yeah, but Caleb, we can't let you buy all the drinks.  In fact,
we insist that you let Max buy the second round!

Max:  Yeah, we-- [He suddenly shoot Sal a glare as he realizes what
his partner just said.]  HEY!

[We cut back down to ringside, where already another combatant stands
at the ready for the next match.   Average build for the most part
with the hint of a gut, pasty skin, hair dyed a bright green and
gelled up into spikes, our aspiring wrestler has matching green tights
with the happy phrase "F___ THE WORLD!!!" written in gold letters on
the side of them and has his face painted up in a strange mish-mash of
colors as if a harlequin met up with Captain Spaulding from "The
Devil's Rejects".  He thrusts his fist into the air and gives an
enthusiastic shout.  The crowd's response, however, is less than
impressed.]

FH:  Right, who is this loser and what methadone clinic did we drag
him from?

CL:  According to my notes, this young man is "Rude Boy" Rudy Haskill.
He's been training in Flagstaff and--

FH:  Yeah, whatever.  You telling me after SSN pulled their support,
PVW couldn't afford better cannon fodder?!  I don't know if this yahoo
should be selling me a Happy Meal or eating one!

CL: FRED!  [sighs]  Well anyway, in just a few moments we should be
seeing "Bad Wolf" Christopher Black making his debut here and we'll
see what he has to offer against Haskill.

["The Voice" Herk Douglas brings the mic to his lips for
introductions, but before he can get a word out, there's a bit of a
commotion up the aisle.  All eyes turn to see the large man, still in
his black pinstripe suit, and his leather jacket and jeans wearing
associate at the back.  Both men look annoyed as they confer for a few
moments.]

CL:   Folks, I don't know what Black is up to, but he doesn't look at
all ready to wrestle in that suit of his.  He--

[Suddenly, the man in the leather jacket rushes down to the ring.  He
quickly grabs a spare steel chair and rolls into the ring.  Before the
official can get him out of there, the man slams the chair down on the
head of a now-cowering Rudy Haskill, sending him crumpling down onto
the mat!  Ignoring the fallen Haskill, he  then tosses the chair
aside, calmly rolls back out of ring and walks back up the aisle.   As
the crowd boos and jeers, his only response to them is a cold sneer.
Meanwhile, the giant in the suit just watches in stony silence.]

CL:  What the hell is going on here?!

FH:  I'll tell you what...Black's manager just spared us all the
misery of watching Rudy Whatshisname making a fool of himself out
there and I, for one, thank him for it!  Besides, look at that fine
suit...do you know how hard it is to for the dry cleaners to get
druggie vomit out of a suit like that?  More managers need to look
after their clients like that!

CL:  This is absolutely terrible...an absolute disgrace of a debut
match for Christopher Black!

FH:  Yeah, it is pretty disgraceful if you fall in a heap after one
chair shot, isn't it?  Kids these days...  [sighs, shakes his head,
then shouts]  Go back to Burger King, Haskill!

[With the crowd still booing, the two men just exit to the back.
Medics come down to check on Haskill's status.

CL: You have to wonder if the medics on staff here are ready for the
night.  So far they have been down to ring side twice already and if I
know the wrestlers in the back that won't be the last time.

FH: I'll take a Caleb Foley visit and a Masked Maniac and if I am
lucky a Max and Sal!

CL: No let's hope that was the last visit.

FH: Boo ... Your no fun Chip!

[Outside the 52nd Street Armory, the three-quarter moon hangs in the
starless sky.  The full parking lot is bathed in orange lights from
the many street lamps shining atop their posts. ]

CL:  And here's a shot of the parking lot outside the 52nd Street
Armory showing all the vehicles belonging to all the great fans who
turned out tonight for the return of PVW to its hometown of Phoenix!
We want to thanks each and every one of our devoted fans for coming
tonight and making this return all the more special for all of us in
the PVW organization.

FH:  Hey, who's that?

[Hoyle is referring to a figure lumbering around the corner of the
armory.  The large man is dressed in a shabby flannel shirt and a
homemade kilt wrapped around his waist.  His long dark hair is greasy
and unkempt, as is the chest-length beard that covers his face.  The
rumpled man walks up to the glass doors of the armory's entrance and
stands there a moment before leaning forward and pressing his face
against the glass.   He stares into the armory for a few moments and
then walks off, disappearing back behind the building the same way he
came.]

FH:  What the Hell was that?

CL:  Looks like just some poor fellow down on his luck, trying to get
a glimpse of what's going on here tonight, Fred.

FH:  Well, I just hope security runs him off.  I'd hate to have to see
that loser out behind the armory when I'm heading out to my car
tonight.  I bet he smells like a dead buffalo!

CL:  Take it easy Fred, he's probably just some guy going through a
rough patch.  Most likely he just wants something to eat.

FH:  He's probably looking for someone to mug so he can buy himself
some crack, or booze or whatever it is bums do now-a-days.

CL:  Well whoever he is, Fred he seems to have left, so you don't have
to worry about showing a little human compassion.

FH:  You call it compassion, I call it being a sucker, Chip.

CL: One thing is for sure Fred.  You are always predictable.  You just
don't shock me anymore.

FH: Damn right I don't.  It's the Fred way or no way around here!

CL: Apparently Dean Hayes has caught up with the newcommer Christopher
Black and wants to get a word with him after that unique debut.

FH: What was so unique about it?  He decided to take the trash out of
PVW for us.  Too bad he wasn't in the parking lot afterwards.  We
could of gotten a two-for-one deal!

[Cut to backstage, where we see "Swinging" Dean Hayes, trusty
microphone in hand, hustling to catch up to the grim-faced giant in
the suit and his leather-jacket wearing compatriot before they reach
the exit.]

"S"DH:  Mr. Black!  Mr. Black -- Christopher... please, one word!

[Both men pause, sharing a look of annoyance at this interruption.
Hayes gamely presses on.]

"S"DH:  Christopher, this was supposed to be your debut match here in
PVW.  And yet what happened with you and your associate out there was
complete and utter disrepect.  Not only for your opponent, but for
this very organization!  What do you have to say for yourself?!

[Hayes raises the mic up towards the big man, only for the man in the
leather jacket to snatch it out of Dean's hand.]

Man #2:  Let's get this straight, mate.  The Bad Wolf don't curtain-
jerk.  He's lookin' for a REAL challenge!  He don't waste his time
with some fat squib you dragged outta the gym.  An' he don't waste his
time with YOU!

[With that last word, he tosses the mic back to Dean, punctuating the
point with a disdainful snort as he continues to stalk off.  The man
in the suit says nothing, scowling as he leaves as well.]

"S"DH:  But--!

[Neither man pays Dean Hayes any mind as they exit.  Hayes shakes his
head in frustration.]

"S"DH:  Back to you guys, I guess...

["Hail to the Chief" begins to play over the PA system suddenly as the
camera moves towards the entrance ramp.]

CL:  What's this now?

[The question is soon answered as out steps Johnny Detson to the
immediately disapproval of the crowd.  Detson, however, pays them no
mind as he stands there dressed in his tailor made three piece suit.
He has on a powder blue shirt with a red tie with a grey vest on.  His
suit jacket is slung over his right shoulder as he nonchalantly waves
with his left.]

CL:  Folks, Johnny Detson is coming down to ringside unannounced and
in my opinion unwanted.  Here's a guy that claims he ended PVW's first
run and is seemingly glad about the fact that people were unemployed
and looking for work.  And now he's claiming some sort of ownership in
PVW, and people, he is not part of PVW in any capacity!

[Detson has made his way down to the ring, a real fake politician
smile on his face, shaking hands with various members of the crowd.
He grabs a mic from the ringside area and makes his way into the ring,
throwing his jacket over the top rope.  He waves in appreciation to
the crowd that continues to show him none as the music dies down.]

Detson:  Hello paying wallets of the PVW!

[Detson waits for a response and gets one in the form of boos.  He
nods approvingly.]

Detson:  Man I have to tell you it's good to be back.  It's good to be
back in front of all you!  Its good to be back in front of all of you
so I can have each and every one of you jack-o's stand up in unison
and say THANK YOU!  Thank you Johnny Detson for giving us back our
company, thank you for giving us back this small-time, insignificant
on the global scale, never run properly company.

[Detson closes his eyes, stretches out his arms and bows as the crowd
continues to boo.]

Detson:  And to you, I say you're welcome.  You're welcome because not
only do you have your PVW back, you have someone with an actual brain
behind the wheel.

[Detson taps his own temple in case you didn't know who he was talking
about.]

Detson:  Yes people, your savior is here to help steer this ship
right!  No more of the past procedures of idiot networks with there
idiot decisions and there tons of capital to pour into the product.
NO!  No, now you'll have sensible decisions made by a sensible person
for the betterment of myself... er I mean the company.

[Detson smirks as the crowd continues to get on him.]

Detson:  Now too many people have claimed credit for the hard work
that I've put in already.  And people this mud slinging must be put to
rest, its slanderous, libel, and tortuous inference at its finest, or
at least that's what my attorneys say, and we wouldn't want a repeat
of last summer now would we?  No, I am the magnanimous one; I am the
only one with the capability of letting this company survive.  This
place was dead, half the roster employed elsewhere, but who stayed,
ME.  Who pulled the pillow off PVW's dying soul?  ME!  It's about time
I start getting the respect I deserve around here!  Why I look at the
events tonight and what do I see?  Chase Williams and Robert Cole part
eight million and five!  These two "world champions" are the reason
PVW failed in the first place.  As President and CEO of PVW I can't
sit idly by and let them ruin my company again!

[Detson shakes his head as he begins to pace back and forth in the
ring.]

Detson:  Why do these two get to ruin my company again?  They've
proven that they can't hold onto the ball.  Johnny Detson should be
inserted into that match tonight so the PVW can finally have a
champion they would be proud of!

(The crowd begins to vehemently protest that as Detson holds up his
hand.)

Detson:  I know, I know it's an injustice to be sure.  And I could
have used my new found title to insert myself into that match and I
almost did...

[Man the crowd really hates this guy.  Nevertheless, Detson holds up a
single index finger.]

Detson:  People please, hold in your excitement, I said almost.  I got
me thinking.  I told myself, "Johnny you're going to be World Champion
_and_ President _and_ CEO of the PVW?  All by yourself?"  Well folks,
even for someone as great as me, that's just too much.  But I am
putting people on notice, that if their entertainment stock doesn't go
on the rise REAL quick, that's exactly what I'm going to have to do!

[The crowd starts on him again and Detson throws his hands up
defensively in mild surprise.]

Detson:  People, people please, I share in your disappointment.
However, what kind of magnanimous person would I be if I didn't
compete at all on the card?  That is why I have decided, in my
executive wisdom that I will grace the eight man tag match scheduled
for later tonight with my presence.  Again I say to you, you're
welcome.

[Again Detson bows, again the crowd boos.]

Detson:  I conclude tonight's presidential address with a warning for
all the "talent" in the back.  My executive order banning mediocrity
does not merely apply to the World Champ.  No, it applies to each and
every one of you.  Mediocre was the standard of the old PVW, this is
the new PVW, MY PVW.  What you had before was an inferior, bloated
roster with unobtainable dreams, but with me, your President and CEO,
it's a dawning of a new day!

[Detson's cocky smirk never leaves his face as he reaches over and
grabs his jacket.  As he slings it over his shoulder again he looks
out to the crowd.]

Detson:  Its morning again for the PVW, and I am its rising sun.  The
PVW universe, as it should, revolves around me!

[With that Detson simply drops the mic and begins waving to the crowd.
He rolls out of the ring and gives a big thumbs up before turning and
walking to the back.]

FH: There is a man we can all be thankful for Chip.

CL: Forgive me while I stay skeptical.

FH: Skeptical of what Chip?  You are being paid thanks to Johnny
Detson!

CL: My pay check has always said Dex Willingham.  Johnny Detson is
nothing more then a spoiled poor sport that didn't get his way the
last time we saw him in PVW action.

FH: I wouldn't be talking about our boss like that Chip!

CL: Hopefully there is someone in the back willing to stand up to him
in honor of the PVW name and everything we have stood for.

FH: Like who?  That Rude Boy guy we saw come out here earlier?

CL: Ladies and gentleman the it is now time for the first of our title
matches here tonight! As 'The Warrior' Larry Gionet tries to dethrone
the Masked Maniac for the PVW Television Championship!

FH: Larry Gionet? He's a choke artist! When the spotlight is on the
line a smart man beats for Gionet to lose!

CL: Larry Gionet has taken guys like Marcus Manson and Chase Williams
to their limits here in the PVW!

FH: Manson is so overrated and Chase Williams, well as much as I like
hitting the town with Chase cause the boy can pick up the chicks he's
been a disappointment lately.

CL: You used to rave over Manson, Fred.

FH: That was when was a integral part of Widowmaker's Inc. Now he's
just some guy that uses the Heartpunch.

CL: Let's go to the voice of PVW, Herk Douglas for the introductions!

[The Crowd chants the PVW Warriors name as the lights dim to black as
the booming intro of "As I Am" by Dream Theater can be heard through
the PA system.]

HD: Introducing first ...  Weighing in at 235 pounds.  Wrestling out
of Stoughton, MA.  He is known as the PVW Warrior ...

LARRY GIONET !!!

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

[Larry Gionet slowly walks to the ring as the chants become louder. He
wears his red and black half long tights with his name in red slash
lettering, black kneepads and black boots.  Without hesitation, he
nods towards the fans.   With a menacing look on his face, he stops at
ringside and raises a head to stare at the crowd with a deep stare
taking in a very deep breath.  The fans become a blur as he turns
towards the ring focusing in on the task at hand.]

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

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

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

CL: Larry Gionet looks motivated as always.

FH: How can you tell Chip?  I have never seen any expressions or
emotions from Larry Gionet.  It's like he is a piece of metal.

CL: His opponent's may agree with the piece of metal part.  Gionet has
been as tough as anyone inside the PVW ring.

FH: Like a piece of well-done steak.  Filling yet you suffer through
it.

[The PVW's Warrior stands just as Fred said; emotionless, as he waits
for the PVW masked TV Champion to enter the ring.]

CL: You know what Gionet is probably good at?

FH: Attending funerals?

CL: No, I was thinking playing Poker.

FH: Well it sure in the heck isn't charades.  Unless he draws a brick.

[As we wait for the TV Champion ... The camera picks up an old school
PVW t-shirt; PVW's Warrior - “Cracking ribs since 2008.” Lowly
thrumming, the sounds of They Might Be Giants' “Particle Man” fills
the arena.]

HD: And his opponent is the CURRENT PVW TELEVISION CHAMPION !!!!  HE
weighs in tonight at 240 pounds ... and claims to hail from “Parts
Unknown”, Michigan ... This is ...

The Masked Maniac !!!

[Striding out from the entrance portal, is the lone figure of the
Masked Maniac. With the departure of SSN the Masked Maniac's usual
billboard of advertisements upon his mask has disappeared.]

FH: Wait a minute? Where's Big Gene!?!

CL: This is the new PVW Fred! Guys who can't wrestle have no part.

FH: Then why is Caleb Foley here?

[Coming to the ringside area, Maniac walks to the ring steps, the fans
giving a
mostly positive mixed pop in spite of his cocky swagger.  Stepping up
to the outside
second rope, he raises the PVW TV Championship as he get's a nice
lovable POP from the Phoenix fans.]

FH: How in the world does Masked Maniac have “fans”?

CL: Maniac has been a staple of the PVW since day one.  I think the
world is just amazed he actually won a title.

FH: I wouldn't say he “won”... More like CHEATED!

[Hopping to the inside of the ring, Maniac turns to face his opponent,
a smiling
mouth full of bright white teeth visible through the mouth slot of his
mask.]

CL: Referee Leon Mays is raising the TV Championship ...  We are about
to have ourselves a match and the start of a new ERA in PVW with our
first official televised match back home right here in Arizona!

FH: Oh brother ...

CL: And there is a handshake between the Challenger and Champion.

************************************************************
************************************************************
** Phoenix Valley Wrestling - One on One Action -         **
** PVW TV Championship - 15 Minute Time Limit -           **
** Larry Gionet v. Masked Maniac [c]                      **
************************************************************
************************************************************

}

[The two men circle one another cautiously before Gionet shoots in
with a double leg takedown attempt, Manaic though side steps the
maneuver and Gionet is quickly back to a vertical base and smirks at
Maniac. Once again the two men circle one another and this time they
tie up i nteh center of the ring.]

CL: Both Gionet and Maniac are even in size so this tie up might not
be anything more than a battle of wills.

[Maniac rears back and slams his head into the forehead of Gionet who
realizes the tie up.]

FH: And Maniac using his head for the only thing it's good for a
Headbutt!

[Maniac capitlizes by runshing forward and takes Gionet to the mat
with a shoulder block; Maniac continues to press his advantage as he
stomps on the head of Gionet. He reaches down and grabs Gionet by his
hair and pulls him to his feet as Mays warns Maniac to let go of the
hair. Maniac does so and connects with an overhand slap that seems to
shock Gionet who shakes his head.]

CL: Maniac showing no respect for Larry Gionet here tonight!

FH: No one else does why should he?

[Gionet charges and Maniac sidesteps him, grabbing the PVW Warrior by
the waist as he does so.]

CL: And the TV Champ with a textbook waistlock takedown slamming
Gionet face first into the mat! And now he's showing Gionet that he's
not the only one with grappling ability here tonight!

FH: What why? Maniac usualy only shows off like this against someone
he knows can't do anythign about it. Maniac must have taken a few too
many shots to the head recently!

[Maniac floats over to lock on a front chancery and quickly floats
back to the backmount position. As he does so Gionet hooks the leg of
Maniac and connects with a switch putting him in control of the TV
Champion. Gionet slides up and hooks on a side head lock and pulls
Maniac to his feet and takes a few steps before leaping int othe air
and driving the head of Maniac into the mat with a bulldog.]

FH: See what I mean! Maniac should be trying to show people like Caleb
'Mr. Crybaby' Foley. Not Gionet!

[Gionet drops an elbow to the back of Maniac's head and quickly begins
to work a rear naked choke hold on Maniac.]

CL: Gionet looking for an early submission as he tries to lock on the
rear naked choke! If he gets this in right this match could be over in
record time!

FH: Maniac is close to the ropes though and he's fighting like the
devil is possessing him to not fall victim to this hold.

CL: Larry Gionet is a master at various submission holds and while
don't see them that often here in the PVW he's put away more than one
opponent with this rear naked choke!

[Maniac continues to struggle and he is able to use all 6 foot 4
inches of his frame to reach the bottom rope with his foot, forcing
Mays to call for the break before Gionet can securely lock in the
hold. Frustration crosses the face of Gionet as he releases the hold.
Maniac pulls himself to his feet with the ropes and suddenly Gionet
charges. Maniac lowers his shoulder and backbody drops Gionet over the
top rope ...]

CL: Gionet grabs the top rope and lands on his feet on the apron.

FH: And again Maniac is clueless as Gionet is waiting ...

[Gionet drives his shoulder into the mid-section of Maniac doubling
him over and Gionet uses the top rope to slingshot himself back in the
ring with a sunset flip attempt of Maniac ..]

CL: And the cover!

!!! ONE !!!

FH: And the Television Champ with a strong kickout at one.

CL: Both men getting back to their feet ... and Maniac with a thumb to
the eye! He grabs Gionet in a side head lock and drags the side of his
face across the top rope!

FH: Gionet isn't good looking now there's no way that move is going to
help him with the ladies!

[Gionet grabs his face as Maniac stalks Gionet and drives a knee into
the mid-section of the challenger. Maniac hooks Gionet by the waist
and hoist him over with a high impact gutwrench suplex! Maniac to his
feet once again and drops an elbow across the throat of Gionet.]

CL: Maniac getting to his feet quickly and he drops another elbow ...
and another one!

FH: I love the methodicalness of The Masked Maniac here. Notice
there's no stupid jumping to slow him down just impact after impact.
This is old-school at it's best!

CL: Maniac drops another elbow and hooks the leg.

!!! ONE !!!



!!! TWO !!!

[Strong kickout from the challenger this time making a statement.  As
if he was saying there is no way in hell this masked freakshow is
going to pin me!]

CL: Maniac back on the attack and he is tossing _BOMBS_ on Gionet!

FH: That just sounds funny.  Can we call them love taps or something
else?

CL: Maniac goes to send Gionet into the corner, but it's reversed ...
AND here comes the PVW TV Champion whipped into the corner with
_authority_!

[Maniac is sling-shotted out from the impact and nearly beheaded by a
charging short-arm lariat.  The Masked champion sits back up and holds
his throat area as Gionet is quick to continue the attack as he
paintbrushes the side of Maniac's skull!]

FH: Is that anger or determination in the face of Gionet?  Is there
some actual _emotion_?

CL: Gionet has given his body night-after-night inside the PVW ring.
It would be a story everyone could get behind if the PVW Warrior came
out here on the night of PVW's rebirth and won some gold to go with
all that hard work.

[Maniac drops to his hands and knees and covers up almost turtle
style, showing a glimpse of old school Masked Maniac ... and the PVW
Warrior doesn't quit as he mounts the masked champion crossfacing the
side of Maniac's head and then fires an elbow to the back of Maniac's
skull!]

HD: FIVE MINUTES HAVE ELAPSE! TEN MINUTES REMAIN!

CL: The Voice letting us know five minutes are gone in this Television
Title defense.

FH: Really Lester. You don't think everyone heard that?

CL: Just reminding the fans that these Television Title matches have a
strict time limit to them Fred. Larry Gionet is continuing to rain
down the crossfaces and elbows upon the champion's head.

FH: Gionet looking like a MMA fighter here hoping for the knockout it
would seem! I'm not going to lie Lester, but it wouldn't surprise me
at all if Maniac was busted open under that mask!

[Gionet stops the barrage of crossfaces and fish kooks the mouth of
Maniac!]

CL: It appears the challenger has landed the champion ...

FH: Was that supposed to be a fishing joke ... cause Lester it was
awful!

[Leon Mays forces Gionet to release the fish hook and Maniac quickly
crawls away from Gioent to the far side corner wher he turns around on
his knees and begins to plead with Gionet for mercy. Maniac extends
his hand asking for Gionet to show him some mercy. Gionet smirks and
shakes his head no. Maniac grabs the referee by the pant leg pulling
him between Gionet and himself and slowly Maniac pulls himself to his
feet with the referee as a shield.]

CL: Maniac is scared for his life right now!

[Maniac shoves the referee into Gionet and as Gionet pushes the
referee to the side Maniac catches him with a swift boot to the mid-
section.]

FH: Classic Maniac!

[Maniac grabs Gionet in a front chancery and drives him into the
canvas with a picture perfect DDT!]

FH: Maniac Spike! And the champion is on the offensive looking for the
win!

!!! ONE !!!



!!! TWO !!!

CL: And again Gionet kicks out with authority!

FH: Maniac was hoping to put the match away right there but now he
needs to figure out another way to win this. You can bet Maniac is
wishing Big Gene had his contract renewed!

[Maniac drags Gionet to his feet and grabs him; belly to belly suplex
takes Gionet to the mat. Maniac looks at Gionet for a few moments
before once again pulling him to his feet.]

FH: What? Maniac should have gone for the cover!

[Maniac scoops Gionet up and slams him hard to the mat. Maniac back to
his feet and drops a knee into the side of Gionet's head.]

CL: Maniac is trying to wear down Gionet some more, perhaps he's
trying to make sure the Maniac Spike puts Gionet down for the count
next time.

FH: Well of course he is Lester! maniac pulling Gionet up again ...

CL: But Gionet grabs the top of Maniac's head ... Jawbreaker!

[Masked Maniac pops up grabbing his chin. His back is to Gionet wraps
his near arm around the torso of Maniac.]

CL: Gionet looking for a leg hook belly to back suplex.

[Gionet hoists Maniac into the air and twists hims dropping him into a
piledriver!]

CL: Darkness Falls! Darkness Falls! Gionet just hit his version of the
Omega Driver on Maniac!

FH: Good lord! He could have broken Maniac's neck there!

!!! ONE !!!



!!! TWO !!!


!!! THREE !!!

CL: GIONET DID IT! GIONET IS THE NEW PVW TELEVISION CHAMPION!

FH: WHAT?!?! I don't believe it!

}

HD: Ladies and Gentlemen here is your winner in a time of 8 minutes
and 45 seconds and NEW PVW TELEVISION CHAMPION the man known as the
PVW Warrior

LARRY GIONET !!!

[Referee Leon Mays hands Larry Gionet the PVW TV Championship belt.
The PVW Warrior looks down at the gold plated title.  All those
injuries ...  All that hard work ... All those doubters and finally
with a wave of emotion thrusts it high in the air as the Phoenix crowd
raises to their feet cheering him on!]

CL: What a moment Fred!  They don't get much more blue collar then
this.  Gionet entered the PVW embroiled in a feud with Shayne Grissom.
Some thought Grissom would go on to be a PVW Champion, but tonight
Larry Gionet stands with high's and low's inside the PVW ring but a
champion!

FH: I don't know if I should cheer or boo Chip.  I mean I admit Gionet
isn't my favorite to watch by any means.  However you like to see a
guy come out here and take his medicine and OVERCOME.  Not many can
stick it through the low's ...   I got to say well done Larry Gionet.

CL: I am proud of you Fred.

FH: That doesn't mean I can't wait to see him drop it in his first
title defense.

[Gionet drops to his back and rolls under the bottom ropes.  Title on
his shoulder he heads to the front row of the fans.  The people who
stuck behind him ... Never lost faith and continued to chant - PVW
WARRIOR!.]

CL: You can see the appreciation from Gionet.  From a guy who shows
little-to-no emotion.  You have to enjoy the feeling right now.

FH: One side of the story to the other ...

[And Fred is talking about the former PVW TV Champion.  While Gionet
has started working his way up the aisle and towards the back.  Masked
Maniac is now up inside the ring.]

CL:  Still, you have to admit, Masked Maniac deserved much better than
this, Fred.

FH:  If you mean deserved to be taken down another notch, then I
agree.

CL:  He had finally turned his life around, had become one of PVW's
most charismatic performers...

FH:  Yeah, well life ain't fair.  Deal with it.  I didn't whine and
cry when Maniac stole the title.

CL:  Yes, you did.

[Masked Maniac gets back to his feet, and leans over the top rope to
shake off the cobwebs.  The Phoenix fans applaud his effort, but as he
salutes them, the applause turns to boos.  Masked Maniac recoils in
confusion, turns around...]

CL:  Oh, no... not Fontana!


***KKKLLLAAAAAAAAANNNGGG!!!***


[Masked Maniac vaults into the air from the chair's impact on his
skull and crashes to the mat.]


*** HEEL POP~! ***


[Standing over his victim, "the Everlasting" Perry Fontana cocks his
head and drops the steel chair, grinning with a sinister sense of
satisfaction.  With deliberate precision, in a desire to fully savor
the moment, he grinds the sole of his boot into Masked Maniac's face,
then turns his inert body so that it lays prone.  "IL Eterno" drops to
one knee, grabs the laces behind the Maniac's mask, and mockingly
smirks at the audience.]


*** YOU BASTARD HEEL POP~! ***


CL:  Oh, no...

FH:  Oh, YES!

CL:  Fontana can't do what I think he wants to do, can he?

FH:  He has, to Chip.  He's been dealing with two Masked Maniacs,
Chip.  He has to make sure he's got the right one's in the ring.

[The laces undone, Fontana tugs at the mask, and it slips off his
victim's head.  The Everlasting One throws the mask out of the ring,
and lifts Maniac's head by the locks of his black hair... the camera
zooms in on the unveiled face...]


*** FANS GASP~! ***


CL:  It's JACK KEENING??  Masked Maniac is Jack Keening??

FH:  You don't watch the competition much, do you, Chip.

CL:  But I thought Jack Keening was one of our backstage interviewers!

[Fontana nods with satisfaction.  It appears he has the right man.  He
hoists up the unconscious Jack Keening, applies a standing scissor to
his near arm, then uses his weight and leverage to drive the un-Masked
Maniac head first into the steel chair!]


"___THOOOONNNNKKK___"


*** DAMN YOU, EVIL HEEL POP~! ***


CL:  That's sick!

FH:  He calls that one the Cauterizer, Chip.  Notice how it damages
the arm as it knocks out the victim.  Then add bonus points for the
chair.

CL:  Is this a game to you?


[With his legs already wrapped around Keening's arm, it's an easy step
to apply the omoplata, but the Deathless One goes one step further.
To maximize the omoplata's unforgiving pressure, Perry wedges the
steel chair between his thigh and Jack's arm before leaning forward
and applying the chinlock  that completes the chair-assisted
Amputation.!]


*** BURN IN HELL HEEL POP~! ***


FH:  Oh, that looks brutal!  If only Keening was conscious, we could
enjoy the melodious agony of his screams.

CL:  You sicken me, Fred.  You sicken me almost as much as Fontana
does!


[Pitted against unforgiving steel, the human anatomy doesn't stand a
chance.  It's no different for Jack Keening's shoulder as it gets
leveraged out of it's socket with a sickening plop the audience only
hears in their minds...]


*** YOU BASTARD HEEL POP~! ***


JK:   AAAAAAAAAAAARGH!!


FH:  That woke him up! Ha! Ha!

CL: You're laughing?  Mask,err... Jack Keening doesn't deserve this,
Fred!  He's done nothing to deserve this!


[The damage done, Fontana gets back to his feet to look down on
Keening who's writhing in pain, clutching his dislocated arm.  A
cathartic smirk appears Italian-French-Canadian's thin lips.  The
Everlasting One points to the rafters, spins on himself, then screams
an "aaaah, OUAIS!" before stomping Keening's head back into the steel
chair with the sole of his boot. A pair of medics have come to
ringside, but Fontana's steely warning glare keeps them at bay.]

CL:  Someone has to stop this! Why is he doing this?

FH:  Gotta set the example, Chip. When you steal from Perry Fontana,
there's a price to pay.

CL:  Doesn't that price seem excessive to you?

FH: Well, there's interest to factor in...

[Fontana nods and bends down to pull Jack Keening back to his feet.
He grabs the undislocated arm and applies a standing armbar.  He
places his near leg over the back of Keening's head, then drills
Jack's unmasked head into the steel chair with his "armbar driver."]


"___THUUUUUNNNNKKK___"


CL:  Aaww, and Jack's bleeding, now!  Someone... anyone!

FH:  Fontana's not done, Chip.  This is the end of Masked Mania.  The
definitive end of Masked Mania!


[Fontana wraps his legs around Keening's exposed arm, and applied an
omoplata to his other, undislocated limb.  At this point, when his
intent becomes clear, the boos turn to a mortified silence. Fontana
reaches forward and knots his fingers over Jack Keening's chin....]


*** YES!! THANK GAWD YES FACE POP~!!! ***


CL:  IT'S LANDIS!! Landis can end this!!

FH:  This is no time for rhyming, Chip!  Tom Landis is trying to butt
into his brother's business!


["Hellraiser" Tom Landis slides into the ring under the bottom rope
and pulls his brother-in-law off of Jack Keening, forcing to break his
devastating hold.  Landis pushes Fontana into the turnbuckles, loudly
berating him, and as anyone can expect, Perry barks back aplenty.  The
nearby medics waste no time in seizing the opportunity; they pull Jack
Keening out of the ring and help him up the ramp to give him all the
medical attention he needs.]

CL:  Thank goodness Tom Landis got here!

FH:  Just one more minute.  One more minute is all Perry needed, Chip!

CL:  Oh, no!  Fontana's picking up the chair!

FH:  FINALLY!

CL:  And he's... handing it to Tom???

FH:  What??

[Landis, confused, takes the chair as Perry points to his chin, daring
him to take his best shot.]

FH:  Don't do it, Tom!  Put the chair down!

CL:  Oh, he wants to do it, Fred.  He wants to swing that chair!

FH:  Don't do it!  Think of your sister, Tom!  Family first!

[Tom shakes his head in disgust, and tosses the chair out of the ring.
He doesn't strike Fontana, but he does take the time make it clear to
his brother-in-law just how much he _loves_ him just as Herk Douglas
steps to the middle of the ring.]

HD:  The following tag team match is set for one fall...

CL:  My goodness... all this, and now they have to team up??

[Landis looks to Herk Douglas, then back to Fontana.  Shaking his
head, he runs his fingers through his hair in frustration, knowing his
ordeals are only just beginning...]

HD:  Introducing first...

[Herk looks over and sees that the team he means to introduce is
already bickering in the ring... In spite of this, the Tea Party's
"Temptation" plays as the blazing words "Everlasting Hell" appear on
the video screen.]

HD:  ... accompanied to the ring by Jack "the Milan Mangler" Fontana
...

[At least, the entrance actually introduces at one man out of three,
as uncle Jacques Fontana hobbles his way to the ring, cane in hand.]

HD: ... at a combined weight of 495lbs, "Hellraiser" Tom Landis and
"the Everlasting" Perry Fontana...

[Tired of bickering, at least for now, Tom and Perry have separated
each heading for a ring corner of their own, the furthest from one
another they can be.]

HD:  ...they are the team known as... Everlasting Hell~!

[Jack Fontana raises his cane in celebration of his nephews, seemingly
unaware of the rift between them.]

CL:  They have a team manager, a team name and a team theme, but this
does not look like a team to me, Fred.

FH:  Blame Landis.  He's just not a team player.


HD: Introducing to my right ...


*** MIXED REACTIONS ***


CL: A set of mixed reactions by the Phoenix crowd here tonight.

FH: They never have liked Tom Landis.  I mean I can't blame them.

CL: I don't think those boo's are for Tom Landis Fred.

HD: Their opponents ...

CL: And a team that has just as many issues.

FH: Not from what I heard Chip.  While PVW's doors were shut.  Danny
Daniels and Sinister had become like brothers.  They did everything
together.  I heard rumors that Sinister even let Danny Daniels date
his sister!

CL: I assume you just made that up Fred.

FH: No I had a very serious sit-down with our Supreme Champion last
week.  You could see it in his eyes Chip.  Sinister will come out a
changed man tonight.  Danny Daniels told me the Chi-Town Beast will
come out the Chi-Town Saint!

CL: Well I think most of us in the business has always considered
Sinister one of the _good_ guys.

FH: Does Gotham City consider Joker a good guy!?!

CL: Well no.  However I wouldn't consider Danny Daniels batman either.

FH: Of course you wouldn't, but then again this is coming from a Tom
Landis fan.  I mean who roots for Tom Landis?

[Delight" by Starland Vocal Band blasts over the PA System.  A mixed
reaction from Phoenix crowd overcomes the masses as “Your Hero” Danny
Daniels emerges from the back with the unsanctioned Supreme
Championship gold tightly around his waist.]

HD: Introducing first from San Francisco.  YOUR HERO - DANNY DANIELS!

[Danny Daniels raises his hand and nods as he makes his way to ring
side.  With Everlasting Hell inside the ring.  Danny Daniels makes an
effort to talk to the referee before he gets inside the ring.   The
camera overhears him questioning the honor and sportsmanship of Tom
Landis.  “I saw what he did to that poor Masked fellow”.]

FH: You tell them Danny!

CL: I am not even going to bother.

[Danny takes the microphone as he hands over the SUPREME title.]

D'YH'D:  Greetings and Salutations!  Before we take on the Fondis
Twins, I'd like to introduce my tag team partner to PVW.  He is my
protege, my student... indeed, the son I never had.  He was once lost
in a haze of EVIL~!... but now he's trying to redeem himself, by
following the shining example set by... ME!  "Your Hero", Danny
Daniels, a man so nice they named me twice!  So I want to fans to
cheer and embrace the newest hero to PVW, GOOD SINESTRO~!

*** ROARING SINISTER POP ***

FH: The fans approve the new Sinestro!

[Delight" by Starland Vocal Band picks back up as Sinister now emerges
from the back.  The Soul-Pole missing the Chi-Town Beast still sports
his lovable smile as he begins to walk down the aisle way towards the
ring.  He stops half way towards the ring and picks up a young fan and
places him on his shoulder for a second as the fan pumps his fist.]

CL: Sinister making that young fan's night!

FH: See Danny Daniels already rubbing off on Sinestro!

CL: Sinister has always been the fans first kind of guy.  He is truly
one of the good guys in this business.

FH: He is _NOW_!

[Sinister makes his way down to ring side.  He stops and slaps as many
fans hands as he can before turning and walking up the ring steps.
Perry Fontana doesn't seem amused, but Danny Daniels points at Tom
Landis and begins plotting with Sinister.]

CL: It appears Danny Daniels has targeted Tom Landis for this match.

FH: With good reason!

CL: Why because he is the more skilled of the brother-in-laws?

FH: No because Tom Landis sucks and he is the easier of the two to
pin.  Geez Chip don't you know anything about Sports?  You find the
weak link and you destroy it!

[Referee Mark Barnett is explaining the rules to the two sides.  Perry
Fontana points to the outside and tells Landis “I got this!”]

FH: Looks like we know who the boss is of that team!

CL: I think Landis is just picking his battles.

[With Landis stepping to the outside.  Danny Daniels tells Sinister
that it's his time to show the world and steps onto the ring apron
placing the two men starting this match - Sinister and Perry Fontana.]

************************************************************
************************************************************
** Phoenix Valley Wrestling - Tag Team Action -           **
** Perry Fontana & Tom Landis v. Danny Daniels & Sinister **
************************************************************
************************************************************

}


CL: And the bell has been sounded.  Fontana stretching his arms.  Now
using the ropes for leverage.  Sinister seems less than impressed.

FH: Fontana uses muscles Sinister doesn't even know he has.  Fontana
is a master of the body.  If you don't believe me ask Tom's sister.

CL: Can't we get through one Tom Landis match with out taking jabs at
his family?

FH: Hey that isn't taking jabs at the Landis family.  I mean isn't it
a good thing that Fontana makes sweet romantic love to Tom's sister?

CL: Personally I'd rather just not think about it.

[The two men now begin circling around one another.  Fontana looking
for any opening as the much bigger Sinister stands prepared for
whatever Fontana has in store for him.  The two men lock up and a
struggle for power ensues.  Fontana begins pushing the bigger Sinister
backwards, but that doesn't last long.  Sinister turns the tides and
pushes Fontana backwards with ease.  Finally up against the ropes
Fontana holds his hands up and Sinister let's go.  This gives the
former Network champion the opening he wanted and he rifles a kick to
the midsection of Sinister.]

CL: Jack Fontana on the outside barking orders.

FH: What a good manager.  A modern day general there for his nephews.
Brings a tear to my eyes Chip.

CL: I bet the attack on Maniac was all Jack's idea.  The guy has
seemed about as slimy as Perry.

FH: What!?!  Where did that come from Chip!?!  Jack Fontana is a
legend in this industry.  I think you need a time out.  Turn that
headset off for five minutes.

CL: Jack Fontana may be a legend.  However his tactics and direction
is about as dirty as Perry's.  In-fact I think BOTH of them are con-
artist's.  It's a shame that a good guy in our industry like Tom
Landis has to deal with this.

FH: Well he could end up like Masked Maniac.  Or should I say Jack
Keening?

CL: Fontana now has the arm wrenched of Sinister.  Let me remind PVW
fans that once Perry has an arm of his opponent the match could end
within seconds.  Fontana may stack the deck against his opponents at
any opportunity he gets but he has as much talent as anyone inside the
wrestling ring.

FH: There that's more like it Chip.

[Jack Fontana approves as Perry really puts pressure on that right arm
of Sinister.  Sinister grits his teeth and yanks it forward and Perry
right into a big right hand.  Perry drops the arm and stumbles
backwards in a bit of shock.]

FH: Hey now!  I thought Sinister was a changed man!

CL: There was nothing wrong with what Sinister did Fred.

[Perry Fontana and Danny Daniels agree with Fred.  They engaged in a
conversation about Sinister's tactics.  Danny Daniels apologizes to
Fontana and glares at Sinister.  Fontana begins circling again as
Sinister dares him to lock up.]

FH: Sinister doesn't want any of Perry Fontana trust me.

CL: Fontana reluctantly shoots in and the two men tie back up.
Fontana with a quick side headlock.  Sinister tosses him off and into
the ropes.  Fontana bounces off and RIGHT into the shoulder of
Sinister and goes right down to the mat!

FH: Did Sinister get a steel plate in his shoulder while we were off?

[Sinister pulls Fontana up and scoops him high in the air and twists
around and drops him down with a body slam.  Sinister hits the ropes
and drops down with a big knee drop onto the midsection of Fontana.]

CL: I guess Sinister's knee is feeling better.

FH: He must of gotten a steel plate in that knee too!

[Sinister still not done pulls Fontana up and goes to lock him into a
suplex, but Fontana with a quick thumb to the eye socket of Sinister.
Fontana then fires off a series of knife-edge-chops!]


“___TWAAAP___”

“___TWAAAP___”

“___TWAAAP___”

“___TWAAAP___”

CL: Brutal stiff shots across the chest of Sinister, but the big Chi-
Town beast isn't budging!

FH: A steel plate in his chest too!

[Fontana however knows exactly how to make the big man budge as he
grabs the face area of Sinister and rakes it down.  The referee right
there in Fontana's ear, but Jack isn't having any of it.  He is up on
the ring apron and he is giving the referee an ear-full!]

FH: You tell them Uncle Jack!

CL: Fontana using everything in his arsenal to get the upper hand on
the much bigger Sinister in the early going.

[With Mark Barnett distracted.  Fontana grabs the back of the blinded
Sinister's head and uses the top ropes to choke Sinister.  Fontana
pushes down with all his weight choking the big man.  Tom Landis
shakes his head on the outside.  Perry finally let's go as the referee
turns around as Sinister gasps for air.  Perry holds his hands up and
shouts - It's a new armbar that cut's off air to the blood!]

CL: Look at this.  I guess it's the Fontana way.  I shouldn't be
surprised.  Fontana now grabs the right arm of the gasping Sinister...
Drops down into another armbar and hangs with his weight!

FH: Sinister in some major trouble.  I've seen men's arms snap in
moves like this in cage fighting.

CL: Thankfully Sinister is near the ropes and he dives into them
forcing a rope break.

FH: Sinister lucky ... this time!

[After some more warning Perry let's go of the arm and hops back up as
the fans roar in boo's.  Landis points to Sinister and tells him to
concentrate and get this match over with.  As Fontana turns around
Sinister is on his feet and he isn't happy.]

FH: Sinister has steel plate's even in his throat now!  This is
totally unfair!

CL: Fontana charges forward, but Sinister with a big MAFIA KICK and
down goes Fontana!

[However Danny Daniels has now lept inside the ring.  He is pointing
at Fontana and now a finger inside Sinister's chest.  Saying that
Sinister is cheating and he has taught him better then this.]

CL: What is Danny Daniels doing?

FH: Shhh ... This is a teaching moment Chip.

[Sinister blows Daniels off and pulls Fontana back to his feet and
lifts him up and suplexes him hard down to the mat. Sinister glares at
Daniels as he drops an elbow across the chest of Fontana, Sinister is
quickly back to his feet and he pulls Fontana up and whips him hard
into the ropes. Fontana rebounds ...]

CL: And Sinister presses Fontana high into the air.

FH: Fontana is afraid of heights! This isn't fair!

CL: And Sinister showing his strength as he military presses Fontana
three times before dropping him to the mat!

FH: And Sinster hooking the leg ..

!!! ONE !!!

[Fontana with a quick kickout. Sinister wastes no time as he pulls
Fontana to his feet and whips hard into the corner. Sinister charges
and Fontana gets both feet up into the jaw of Sinister.]

CL: Sinister staggering back ...

FH: And Perry with a picture perfect bulldog driving the head of
Sinistero ...

CL: Sinister.

FH: Whatever! Perry looks at Tom and begins to say see that's how it's
done.

CL: And Perry tags Landis into the match for the first time.

[Landis steps through the middle rope as Fontana screams for Lanids to
attack Sinister. Lndis circles Sinister for a moment ...]

FH: I think Landis is looking for the right angle to punt the skull of
Sinister.

[Fontana and Uncle Jack begin to scream at Landis as they realize he's
letting the big man back to his feet.]

FH: That's not smart that's not smart at all!

[Sinister gets back to his feet and smirks at Landis before turning
around and tagging in Danny Daniels with some force.]

FH: Hey! Sinister better learn the art of tagging. He could have
broken Daniels hand there.

[Danny shakes his head in disappoint for a few moments before going
for a collar and elbow tie-up. Before he locks up he pulls back and
begins to talk to Barnett who shrugs his shoulders and begins to pat
the boots of Tom Landis.]

CL: What the? Daniels has convinced Barnett that Landis has a foreign
object in his boots?

[Daniels jabs his thumb into the eye of Tom Landis and grabs his head
driving his own skull into it with a headbutt. Daniels grabs the head
of Landis is a front chancery and powers him over with a vertical
suplex. Daniels quickly back to his feet.]

FH: And Daniels showing why he has been the Supreme champion for so
long right now as he dominates Tom Landis.

CL: I'm sure it has nothing to do with the fact he doesn't actually
defend the Supreme Title.

[Daniels on the second turnbuckle and leaps driving an elbow into the
heart of Tom Landis.Daniels with an extermely cocky cover.]

!!! ONE !!!

CL: And Landis kicks out.

[Landis quickly back to his feet and catches Danny Daniels with a
european uppercut sending Daniels a step back. Landis follows up with
a swift knee to the gut doubling over Daniels and executes a quick
swinging neckbreaking. Daniels grabs his neck as he rolls under the
bottom rope onto the apron. Landis reaches over the top rope and pulls
Daniels to his feet, who catches Lanids with a right hand, Daniels
grabs the middle rope and drives his shoulder into the mid-section of
Landis.]

FH: And Daniels with a slingshot sunset flip!

CL: But Landis is fighting it and drops to his knees! Barnett drops
for the count!

!!! ONE !!!


!!! TWO !!!

FH: And thankfully Sinister runs in and pulls Landis off of Daniels to
make the save.

CL: And Uncle Jack doesn't like it at all as he's screaming at Barnett
to keep the big man in the corner. Landis pulls Daniels to his feet
and whips ... no Daniels reverses the whip and sends Landis into the
ropes.

[As Landis rebounds Fontana slaps the back of Landis for the blind
tag. Daniels takes Landis down with a clothesline but Fontana catches
Daniels from behind with a chop block.]

CL: And Fontana is barking orders for Landis to get back to his feet.
Some brotherly love.

FH: Fontana can't help it if he knows he's the ring general. Landis is
washed-up ...

CL: Like you?

FH: Shut up Lester!

[Fontana continues to bark orders at Landis who screams back I know
how to do that you moron! Fontana wraps his arms around Daniels' arm
and applies an Ude Gatami standing armbar that forces Daniels to bend
forwards, his head just below Perry's hips. Tom then applied a front
face lock to Daniels' head and spikes him into the mat with a DDT just
as Perry simultaneously executes a single-arm DDT.]

CL: Hatred aside these two can work well together it seems.

FH: And Fontana with the cover!

!!! ONE !!!


!!! TWO !!!

CL: And again Sinister with the save as he drives a boot into the side
of Fontana's head!

FH: Hold on a minute! How come Sinister just pulls Landis off of
Daniels but he boots Fontana?

CL: Probably cause no one likes Fontana Fred.

FH: Emily seems to like him pretty well Chip.

CL: I'm starting to wonder if he drugged her ...

[As Daniels slowly gets back to his feet Fontana crawls to his corner
and quickly tags Landis back into the match. Landis rushes forward and
grabs Daniels by his ankle dragging him away from his corner.]

FH: Sinister is a freaking tree and you're telling me he couldn't
reach out and make that tag!

CL: Ever think he didn't want to Fred?

[Daniels kicks and screams as Landis has him by ankle.  Landis begins
to lock on a figure four, but Daniels with an inside cradle!]


!!! ONE !!!


!!! TWO !!!


CL: No close call, but Landis had enough ware-abouts and forces
himself out of the inside cradle.  Both men are up and Daniels is
looking to his corner, but Landis quickly grabs him again and turns
him around and unloads with hard rights!

FH: That bum Sinister!  What kind of partner is he?

[Landis whips Daniels across with a big Irish Whip.  Landis roars
across, but Daniels gets his feet up at the very last second and slows
Tom Landis down in his tracks.  Daniels slams Landis head forward into
the turnbuckle and grabs ahold of the side of Hellraiser's head and
drives him down with a bulldog.]

FH: See that's how you take care of things Sinister.  Who needs you
when you are Danny Freakin Daniels?

CL: Then why is Daniels back over and tagging Sinister back in.

FH: All in name of teaching Chip.

[Sinister slowly steps into the ring as Landis reaches for a tag to
Fontana, who just drops to the floor. Landis stares at hi brother-in-
law in disbelief.]

CL: Oh yeah Fontana really has Landis' back here tonight doesn't he.

FH: Fontana just dropped a contact and he's looking for it.

[Sinister and Landis stare at one another for a moment before locking
up in the center of the ring. Sinister uses his size advantage quickly
and pushes Landis into the ropes. Barnett orders for a clean break and
Sinister gives him one as Daniels screams why? Landis catches Sinister
with a a stiff forarm and attempts to whip Sinister to the ropes,
Siniter reverses and sends Landis into the ropes, where Fontana once
again makes the blind tag.]

CL: Landis seems a bit surprised by the blind tag ... and runs
headlong
into the Mafia Kick from Sinister!

[Sinister quickly pulls Landis to his feet ...]

CL: Sinister could be looking for the Chi-Town Massacre!

[The crowd moans as Fontana catches him with chop block dropping
Sinister to one knee. Uncle Jack is screaming at Perry that the blind
tag was unfair to Landis. Landis shakes his head and exits the ring.]

CL: Perry looking for a piledriver ... and Sinister reverses it with a
back body drop.

[Sinster quickly reaches down and pulls Fontana to his feet but
Fontana catches Sinister with a right hand to the gut and crawls
between Sinister's leg making a diving tag to Tom Landis, who appears
put out by the tag. Sinister turns around and is picked up by Landis
and dropped with an atomic drop. Landis rebounds off of the near side
ropes and takes Sinister to the match with a flying forearm.]

CL: Landis taking it to the big man right now.

[Landis waits for Sinister to back to his feet and rushes forward
taking the big man back to the mat with a running knee-lift. Landis
drops for the cover.]


!!! ONE !!!


!!! TWO !!!

FH: And the good teacher that he is Danny Daniels shows Sinister how
to make a save as he drives the elbow into the side of Landis' head.

[Barnett orders Daniels to the outside and Landis stands up and grabs
Sinister to his feet. Landis grabs Sinister in a front chancery and
lifts him high into the air.]

CL: Landis going for the vertical suplex.

[As Landis reaches the apex of the vertical suplex and suddenly
switches and drops Sinister with a front layout suplex.]

CL: Chicago Thunderbomb I!

!!! ONE !!!


!!! TWO !!!

CL: AND SINISTER KICKS OUT!

FH: Danny Daniels is a better teacher than I gave him credit for!
Normally Sinister would have counted the lights till next week!

[Perry screams on the outside that Tom needs to make the tag. Landis
stands to his feet and looks at Fontana for a moment before turning
around and pulling Sinister to his feet.]

FH: Damn you Landis listen to Fontana he can put Sinister away!

[Landis swings wildly as Sinister ducks his right hand. Sinister
catches Landis from behind and drives him into the mat with a belly to
back suplex. Sinister back to his feet quickly.]

FH: Danny telling Sinister to whip Landis into the corner.

[Sinister goes for the Irish whip but Landis reverses ...]

CL: And Daniels catches Sinister with a kick to the back of the head!

FH: Danny was going for Landis!

CL: He missed by a mile!

[Sinister staggers off of the ropes and Landis quickly hooks Sinister
with an inside cradle.]


!!! ONE !!!


!!! TWO !!!


!!! THREE !!!

FH: I don't believe it Landis got him! Uncle Jack and Perry have him
bringing his A-game!

CL: And Fontana is a little stunned.

[Camera catches both Fontana's talking.  Perry is over heard saying
that wasn't the “game plan”.]

FH: Can't Tom Landis do _anything_ right?

CL: He just picked up the pinfall Fred!

FH: Thanks to Danny Daniels.

[Speaking of Danny Daniels he has grabbed his Supreme Championship and
stands on the outside in disgust.  “I even kicked Tom Landis in the
head for you!”]

CL: I don't know if Danny Daniels actually believes he kicked Tom
Landis or not.

FH: Wait maybe he did.  Maybe Sinister is such a klutz that he tripped
over his own beanstalk legs and Tom Landis just stumbled into an
pinfall.

[Jack Fontana now stands in-between the two brother-in-laws and he
raises Everlasting Hell's hands high in the air as they picked up a
huge tag team victory.]

CL: Danny Daniels is now blaming Tom Landis for his woah's.

[Danny Daniels is accusing Landis on the outside of ruining all his
hard work and corrupting Sinestro and feeding his addiction.]

FH: That bastard Tom Landis.  I am going to have to have a talk with
Perry about this guy.

CL: I'm sure Tom Landis is worried Fred.

FH: He should be!  Where is Jessica Marshall when we need her!?!

CL: Lucky to still have a job.  Dean Hayes is standing by once more.

FH: Hopefully Dean has done some real work this time.

[PVW banner.  Backstage.  Dean Hayes!]

Hayes: Hello fans, "Swingin'" Dean Hayes here and I'm just about to
talk to the tag team champions Livestock and the Gutch about their
upcoming eight-man tag team match.  It's Gibson Hayes, Johnny Detson
and the champs taking on the tandem of Hersher von Donkerhardt, Caleb
Foley and the team of Max and Sal.  Now, champs--

[Stepping in from stage right comes a freaky red broom in a suit!  No,
wait, it's Broderick Ezekiel Craven.  Zeke's beard quivers with
anticipation as he's finally on camera again after so many months.]

Hayes: --we have a lo--Zeke?

Zeke: That is my middle name and most common non-de-plume.  Thank you
for noticing.

Hayes: What's the meaning of this?  Where are Livestock and Gutch?

Zeke: He prefers "the" Gutch.

Hayes: They were just here!  What's going on?  You don't even manage
them anymore!

Zeke: A lot has changed Mr. Hayes, don't assume too much.  The boys
have been advised not to talk to you as it may cause them to perjure
themselves.

Hayes: Perjure?  Perjury?  This isn't a court of law.

Zeke: Isn't all the world just one court in which we are all judged?

Hayes: N ... no, definitely not.  Wait a second, advised?  Advised by
who?

Zeke: Whom.  And me!

[There's a tense moment of silence.  Tense meaning that Dean looks
tense and Zeke is stifling a laugh.]

Zeke: So Mister Hayes, what questions do you have for my clients,
Mister Zappa and Mister Bartilucci?

Hayes: Clients?

Zeke: That's right.

Hayes: Am I to understand that you are the tag champs' manager once
again?

Zeke: I am their current representative, that is correct.

Hayes: What happened to being on the championship committee?  I
thought you couldn't be a manager because it was a conflict of
interest.

Zeke: As I said, a lot has changed.

[Beat.  Dean blinks, then his eyes narrow.]

Hayes: They kicked you off, didn't they?

Zeke: As a matter of fact, when the partnership between PVW and SSN
dissolved I was forced to make a decision between the many roles I
played within the company's infrastructure.  It was decided that, in
order to avoid a conflict of interest, I should focus on my legal
duties concerning PVW.

Hayes: So you're still PVW's attorney?

Zeke: Litigator-on-retainer, correct.

Hayes: How did that conflict with your role on the championship
committee?  I understand that you'd have to resign in either PVW or
SSN, but both those roles were with PVW.

[Zeke's smile evaporates.  He shakes his head slightly.]

Zeke: How in the hell did you suddenly gain intelligence?  Fine.  I
was on the championship committee because of my role as corporate
liaison and, after resigning with Strickland Sports, the other
committee members voted me out.

[Dean slaps a hand over his mouth, a great explosion of air escapes
between his fingers with the sound of a whoopie cushion as he
desperately tries to restrain his laughter.]

Zeke: So now that you've exposed my dirty laundry to the greater world
in dry and boring detail, do you have any other questions?

Hayes: As a matter of fact I do!  I assume then that this means the
partnership between your team and SSN's chosen champion Alex Martinez
is also dissolved?

Zeke: It is an unfortunate fact that Mister Martinez and we are no
longer business partners.  There are, however, other great things on
the horizon for Livestock and the Gutch and, with me at the helm, you
can bet that they will be big, big, big!

Hayes: What's that?  You mean another alliance?

Zeke: I'm afraid that's all the time we have Mister Hayes.  If you
want to know more, you should stay tuned just like everybody else.

[Turning to leave, Zeke grins from ear to ear.]

Hayes: Wait, I, the people want to know!

[Aaand he's gone.]

Hayes: Guys, back to you.

[Cut back to the ringside area where Chip and Fred are discussing
something amoungst themselves.]

CL: Ladies and gentlemen tonight we were supposed to have the debut of
the Emerald City Scions in tag team action but they have seem to have
transportation problems from Seattle.

FH: With all the fog and rain it's a wonder anything ever leaves that
place.

[ Suddenly "Know Your Enemy" by Rage Against the Machine begins to
blare over
the PVW PA system.]

FH: What the? The start of Mercenary and Marcus Manson is supposed to
be next.

CL: it's amazing that you know neither one of them use this is a theme
song.

FH: It's called knowing how to do my job Lester.

[The fans rise to their feet, anticipating something awesome
happening.  Needless to say, when a middle agreed, overweight short
guy walks out behind the curtain, their more than
dissappointed!  The man doesn't bother to pander to the crowd at all,
and just waddles to the ring the best he can.  He walks up the ring
steps, and climbs through the middle ropes.  Some fans are a jeering,
most are just staring, hoping this old man keeps it short so they can
get back to wrestling!]

OLD MAN: I know, I know... You came here for _WRESTLING_, not
listening to some old wind bag like myself! I KNOW, but _BARE_ with
me!

[Crowd jeers a bit, not wanting bare with him.]

OLD MAN: For you see, it is the very art of _TAG TEAM WRESTLING_ that
brings me to this sacred ring! More specially, it is the _STATE_ of
tag team wrestling here, in the mighty Phoenix Valley Wrestling.  The
state of this art form here in Pee Vee Dubbya begs the question:
_REALLY_? Is that _REALLY_ all the Pee Vee Dubbya tag team division
has to offer? _REALLY_?

[Crowd jeers a bit more, feeling like the old man's insulting the good
ole PVW!]

OLD MAN: Don't take my displeasure the wrong way! There is nothing
necessarily _WRONG_ with Pee Vee Dubbya tag division, per say.  The
talents fine... The teams are highly competitive and highly respected.
But there's just something... _LACKING_! You see, while it is
certainly not a _BAD_ division, it can certainly be made _BETTER_!
That means new talent... _FRESH MEAT_ to inject new blood into the old
way of doing things.

...and that is _EXACTLY_ what I am here!

[Silence, crowd's now intrigued...]

OLD MAN: For you see, my name is _UNCLE SIDNEY SAVAGE_, and I have
come to the Pee Vee Dubbya rebirth, flanked by one of the _NEWEST_ tag
teams the world has ever seen! A tag team so _WONDERFUL_... so
_MAGICAL_... so god damn _IMPRESSIVE_ that with only a _THIRTY MINUTE_
tryout, they were granted an official Pee Vee Dubbya contract! Oh yes,
folks, bare witness to their first appearance _EVER_ in their
careers....  WELCOME TO THE RING THE BROTHERS HOULIHAN, JD AND
DEVIN...  THEY ARE.......

.......THE REENNNNNNNNNEEEEEEEEEGGGGGGGGAAADDDDDDESSSSSSSSS!

[The two men walk out of the back, smiles stretch across their face.
The crowd cheers a bit, others remain slice.  Right away, it is easy
to tell the brothers are twins, but at least they've made it easy on
everyone to tell which ones wish! One brother's wearing a white shirt
that reads "I'M JD!" and the other, also wearing a white shirt reads,
"I'M DEVIN!"  Both brothers have shoulder length brown hair, and brown
eyes.  They are both wearing blue jeans and their specific shirts. The
two attempt to slap some fan's hands as the walk down the aisle, but
only a few are responding.  The two men roll underneath the ropes, and
stand in the middle of the ring.  They try hard to get the crowd
going, but to no avail.  Laughing, smiling and survey the crowd, JD
Houlihan takes the mic from Uncle Sid.]

JD: HELLLLLLLLLLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO PEEEE VEEEE [CENSORED!]
DUBBBBBYYYYYAAAAAAAA!!!!!!

[Little pop!]

JD: Well, I don't know how _YINS_ feel, but I am extremely pleased to
be here tonight! It's been a troublesome last six months.  Things have
just not gone the brothers Houlihan's way, but now... Now the luck
seems to be changing! And it's all thanks to Pee Vee [CENSORED]
Dubbya!

[JD pauses, as Devin attempts to get his turn on the mic.  No luck.]

JD: Now, I know you heard our good 'ole Uncle Sid here talking us
up...  Bragging about how _AWESOME_ we are, telling everyone that
while the Pee Vee Dubbya tag scene is... Well... _EHHHH_, and that now
that we are here, it's gotten that much _BETTER_!

DEVIN: You are _SOOOOOOOO_ right brother man! With us on the roster,
this is now officially the _BEST_ tag team division in _ALLLLLLLL_ of
wrestling!

[JD stares at Devin, little shocked Devin has his own mic.]

DEVIN: And, I know what ya'all are thinking... These two young punks
haven't even had a _WRESTLING_ match yet! They are so wet behind the
ear, it's ridiculous! How can they _POSSIBLY_ be some great addition
to Pee Vee Dubbya? How are THEY supposed to be what Pee Vee Dubbya's
been looking for since the idea of a 'rebirth' came to the for front?

JD: Easy... Just _LOOK AT US_!

[JD begins to do various muscle man poses. Funny, though, he's no body
builder, not even close, so there's not really much to show.  Uncle
Sid, sitting on the top turn buckle, is just shaking his head.]

JD: You see this? You see this _AMAZING_ body with these _INCREDIBLE_
muscles? That's _ONE_ of the reasons why we are here to set the tag
division on _FIRE_!

[Both men crack up laughing.]

DEVIN: No offense brotha' man, but 'chu don't got much of a muscle
build to be bragging about!

JD:  Hey, I know, but least the ladies enjoyed it!

[Woman in the crowd half cheer.]

JD: Seriously, though, Devin, it's hard to put into words exactly what
makes us so _GREAT_... It really is.

DEVIN: So, what are you saying, JD?

JD: What I'm saying is... I think these people need to see it _LIVE_
in person!

[Fans cheer, happy they'll maybe see some wrestling shortly instead of
this bullshit banter crap.]

DEVIN: I _LIKE_ where you're going with that, JD, and lemme say... I
agree _COMPLETELY_! Actions do speak louder than words, so why stand
here and just waste our breath, when we can just show 'em what the
Renegades are _ALLLLLLL_ about!

[Fans cheer some more, really thinking they'll be seeing some
wrestling soon.]

JD: Thus, with that in mind... I direct this to _ALLLLLLL_ the teams
in the back.  From the Pee Vee Dubbya tag champs, to Max and Sal, to
Tom Landis and Perry Fontana....  _IF_ you don't believe us... If you
don't see how two punks from Pittsburgh could _EVER_ dominate here in
Pee Vee Dubbya.... BRING IT ON!

DEVIN: That's right! We here, the brothers Houlihan, the tag team
known as the Renegades, are _OFFICIALLY_ issuing an open challenge to
_ANYONE_ in the back... ANYONE! From the bottom dwelling losers to the
all mighty champs, if you think we ain't got game, then come out here
and _PROVE_ it!

[Suddenly Oye Coma Va by Carlos Santana begins to play over the
Armory's sound system. After a few moments the sultry voice of a woman
begins to speak. ]

Voice: Senors, senors.

[Out from behind the PVW entrance way emerges a petite Hispanic women
dressed in a red form fitting blouse; and as Fred would say there is a
lot of form uptop to fill, a tight black skirt and a pair of red
heels. She holds the microphone in her right hand as she slowly plays
curls her hair around her left index finger.]

CL: Fred any idea who she is?

FH: .....

CL: Fred.

FH: ....

CL: FRED!

FH: Shut up Lester!

Woman: Senor JD, perhaps a gym will help you become the man you truly
want to be instead of the boy you look like.

[The woman smirks as she watches JD become a bit flustered in the
ring.]

Woman: I am Emylee Marie Bermudez Cruz and I represent the ASLL Tag
Team Champions, Los Corazones!

FH: Los Who? And what the heck is the ASLL?

EMBC: As I relaxed in the backstage area ...

FH: Why the hell am I up here with you when she is in the building?

EMBC:  I began to laugh uncontrollably as you three rambled on and on
about how magnifico you are.

[Emylee slowly shakes her head side to side as she smirks at the three
men in the ring.]

EMBC: Five long minutes the entire world had to listen to you two
children ramble on and on trying to inflate your own egos. As you
continued to try and impress these Phoenix peopes I couldn't
understand how two men could claim to be the best in he world when
they have yet to have a professional match.

[Emylee inhales deeply, and you can hear Fred's eyes pop from his head
as her voluptuous chest heaves from the breath.]

EMBC: Senors your times for lies must come to an end as Los Corazones
are the true excelencia of tag team wrestling. And next week Los
Corazones shall except your challenge.

[Emylee smirks as begins to Oye Coma va by Carlos Santana plays over
the sound system once again. Slowly she turns around and makes her way
to the back. Emylee pauses for a moment and shakes her hips side to
side to the music before once again disappearing into the back.]

CL: Next week we have the debut match of two tag teams here in PVW as
the Renegades are now set to take on Los Corazones.

FH: I want to know what the ASLL is and if we're going to see any more
of Emylee here tonight.

CL: Probably not Fred.

FH: I need to make a few calls and see if I can get a new play by play
woman out here ....

CL: Fred!

FH: What? Oh did I say that out loud?

CL: ::sighs:: Next up is the Mercenary against Marcus Manson, do you
have any thoughts on that Fred.

FH: Yes, yes I do. I hope the Mercenary defeats that turncoat Marcus
Manson. Manson was a staple of the Widowmakers and he had the audacity
to betray Rick Marley and his other former partners!

CL: like it matters anymore Fred. Marley and the rest of the
Widowmakers are gone from the PVW and to be honest I'm glad!

FH: Stop holding a grudge!

CL: WHAT!?! Fred you are an ...

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

HD: Introducing first .... he weighs in at 265 pounds and hails from
The Bunker ... this 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.]

CL: I've said it before and I will say it again: the Merc is a that is
all business! No one had better get in the way of the Mercenary when
he's on a job.

FH: It's all business to the Mercenary almost all the time, Chip. He
doesn't so much as get out of bed unless somebody's picking up the
tab, usually. Manson tried to short change the Merc last time they
locked horns and that isn't exactly a way to keep things on a purely
business level.
[The doleful sound of "Rooster" by Alice In Chains begins to play
through the arena, as the lights drop down.  Pale blue spotlights
illuminate the aisle from underneath, playing off of a thin mist
rising from the floor... creating an ethereal-looking effect as the
powerful frame of Marcus Manson slowly walks through the curtain.

HD: And his opponent hails from Pittsburgh PA and weighs in at 295
pounds .. this is ...

MARCUS MANSON !!!

[Backlighting Manson's entry is the big screen, which shows only the
words "CAN YOU HANDLE THE MISERY?" in bright pale blue lettering...
along with the aisle lighting, this is the only source of light in the
arena.

Manson takes his sweet time walking down the aisle, his brow furrowed
in a look of concentration; a look made more ominous by the scar
running from above his right eye all the way to his chin.

Marcus is wearing a dark longcoat over his full-length black tights,
red kneepads and elbowpads, and black striking gloves and boots.
Manson climbs the steps, and looks over the crowd with a scowl before
stepping over the top rope into the ring.]

CL: If I remember right it was the Mercenary that short changed
Manson.

FH: Your memory is awful and you smell bad.

[The Misery Machine is raring to go, having a bit of a score to settle
with the Mercenary since the Merc took Manson's money but fought him
any how. Manson moves to confront the Mercenary but Merc puts up a
hand up and asks for Manson to wait. The money hungry wrestler for
hire pulls out a fat stack of money that looks eeriely similar to the
one Manson offered him in another incarnation of PVW. Manson can
hardly believe it but the Mercenary tries to give Marcus the money...]

CL: I can't believe the Mercenary would give back someone's payment!

FH: Chip, the Merc is a consummate professional and knows that
Manson's negative feedback on hiredkillers dot com could impact future
jobs.

[...except he elects to give it to Manson by hitting him in the face
with the stack. Marcus gets his right hand up in time to deflect the
blow! A few bills go flying and a metal plate falls onto the mat with
a thud!]

CL: A set up!

FH: As if there's a real hiredkillers dot com - for all your problem
solving needs! Cleaners of all shapes and si...

************************************************************
************************************************************
** Phoenix Valley Wrestling - One on One Action -         **
** Marcus Manson v. The Mercenary                         **
************************************************************
************************************************************

}

[Fred drones on while the Merc tries to grab the plate off the ground.
Instead of getting the prize Merc is met with a large boot to the face
from an very angry Misery Machine. The referee kicks the metal plate
out of the ring as Manson instinctively follows up the big boot with a
punch to the head... and shakes his right hand.]

CL: Manson's right hand bore the brunt of that metal plate bash.

FH: How'd he recover so fast? Manson has a small welt on his face from
the part of the plate that did connect but he seems to doing fine.

CL: Anger, Fred.

[Distracted by the pain in his right hand, Manson makes the mistake of
taking a look at the red knuckles on his right hand. The Merc has
recovered and lifts up Manson for an inverted atomic drop. Further
seizing the opportunity, Merc follows up with a quick body slam and an
elbow drop to the chest of Marcus Manson. Mercenary stays on top of
Manson for a quick one count, then grinds his elbow into the throat of
the Misery Machine until a near 5 count gets him to lay off.]

CL: Some high impact maneuvers already delivered and... there is no
need for that!

FH: What? The opportunity presented itself so why not take it? The
Mercenary is just playing it smart. For every new bit of damage he
inflicts in other parts of the body he can make Manson lose focus on
that right hand, getting the Miserable Machine to use that right hand
and hurt himself more. That's thinking, Chip, something you seem to be
unfamiliar with from the evidence presented here.

[The man from the Bunker gets Manson to a vertical base and...]

CL: Bitch slap!

FH: Watch your God damned mouth chip!

[...Manson's face sports a nice red welt, leading the Misery Machine
to respond more out of anger and insult than intelligence, throwing a
right hand to the breadbasket of the Merc. Manson grunts in obvious
pain, but refusing to verbalize his suffering. Marcus grabs the Merc
and hammer throws him into the far turnbuckles, lunging towards the
Merc with a flying shoulder. The Merc side steps, having seen it
coming, and manages to snag hold of Manson's right hand after Marcus
collides with the turnbuckles. Manson is caught between the top and
second turnbuckle, leaving the Mercenary with ample opportunity to
yank on the Heart Punch hand of the Misery Machine.]

CL: It looks like the Mercenary is trying to remove the threat of the
Heart Punch from the match.

FH: The Merc is a tactician. Granted, a tactician that would prefer to
just bash your face in most of the time but he at least knows how to
game plan instead of just going straight in like an idiot. You know,
I'm going to call being an idiot pulling a Manson from now on.

[The Merc belly to back suplexes Marcus out of the corner and walks
onto Manson's right hand. When the referee tells him to step off,
threatening a count, the Merc complies... then stomps on Manson's
right hand. The Misery Machine rolls away as the official gets in the
Merc's face. Marcus is on one knee, flexing his right hand as the Merc
finally gets the referee out of the way and rushes towards Marcus. The
Misery Machine was waiting this time and he catches the Merc and
delivers a hot shot, favoring his left arm. The Merc bounces off the
top rope, not going down just yet. Manson clobbers Merc with a big
straight right foot to the face. Merc falls backwards. Manson, going
on instinct, delivers a standing fist drop with the injured right fist
- leaving Manson on his knees cursing while the Merc rubs his forehead
on the ground, with a bit of a smile.]

CL: The Mercenary grinning, as if he let Manson hit him in the head!

FH: Of course he did! The Miserable Machine was pulling a Manson with
that move selection!

CL: Merc is wincing a bit while Manson gets back up and stomps on the
Merc's stomach once, twice, three times a lady!

FH: Go dance on the ceiling, Skip.

CL: Chip.

FH: Okay, Chimp.

CL: Manson going for another stomp and the Merc catching Marcus's
right foot... take down! The Merc going right back to Manson's right
hand, smacking it with a fist. Manson gets to his knees while the Merc
is trying to break Manson's hand... and Manson someone getting the
Merc into a fireman's take-down. The Merc continues to roll, to the
outside!

FH: Another smart move by the Merc and another Manson pulled by, well,
Manson!

[The Misery Machine wastes no time in following the Merc to the
outside, where he is met with an elbow smash followed by a forearm
shiver. The Merc takes Manson's right hand and slams it onto the
apron. A kick to the gut keeps Manson from recovering his wits and
lets the Merc have enough of an advantage, leading to the smashing of
Manson's right hand into a ringpost. Instead of being in pure pain,
Manson flails wildly, smacking the Merc in the ear with his left hand
and kicking the Merc in the stomach. Merc spears Manson into the ring
steps in retaliation and puts Marcus's right hand in between the two
step sections, about to bring down the top section onto Marcus's
hand.]

CL: No!

FH: Yes!

[...but Marcus hits the Merc in the family jewels!]

FH: No!

CL: Yes!

[Manson picks up the Merc, turns, and drives him into the ringpost,
back first. Manson then drives his left shoulder into the Mercenary's
stomach three times before tossing the Merc back into the ring,
quickly following suit.]

CL: Manson moving as fast as he can, trying to capitalize on the
Merc's having the wind knocked out of him.

FH: He's going to pull a Manson, just you watch!

[As Manson nears the Merc, obviously tiring and hurt, goes for a drop
toe hold. The Mercenary catches Manson and drops him face first into
the mat. Getting up, clutching at his stomach, the Merc again goes for
the hand, trying to stomp on it. Manson rolls away. Another stomp
attempt, another roll away. The Merc feints a stomp but instead of
being smart, this proves to be a bad move as Manson lunges and
delivers a chop block, taking the Merc off his feet. The Merc recovers
faster than expected and absolutely demolishes Manson's face with
double axe handle to the face. The Merc goes to pick up Manson for a
suplex when the Misery Machine hits the Merc in the gut with a knee
and then...]

CL: Widowmaker! The Ace Crusher!

FH: Bull...

CL: Language!

!!! ONE !!!


!!! TWO !!!


!!! THREE !!!

}

FH: NO!

CL:And Manson showing he doesn't need just the Heart Punch to put an
opponent away!

HD: You're winner ...

MARCUS MANSON !!!

FH: I can't believe this! Manson has to be the luckiest man in the
PVW.

CL: Manson has yet to be in singles action in his career in PVW ...

FH: That will come to an end soon Chimp my boy ...

CL: Chip ... why can't you suddenly remember my name.

FH: I never want to remember it.

CL: Let's go to the back were Dean Hayes ... wait what's his wife's
name that he said he wanted to be using?

FH: I have no idea. It's like thirty five letters or something insane.
So he's still good ole Hayes to me!
[Backstage, "Swinging" Dean Hayes tentatively approaches a robed and
hooded "Deathless" Perry Fontana. Tough to say what his mood is, as we
can only see the dimple of his chin and tufts of his gigantic
muttonchops. He's sitting on a bench, and at his side is the
shrivelled and hunched over septuagenarian Giacomo "Jack" Fontana,
softly snoring the rest of the night away.]

SDH: Ladies and gent-

[He didn't say a word, but Fontana lifted a finger at his interlocutor
in a clear "be quiet" gesture.]

SDH: I'm here-

Fontana: Shhh.

SDH: Whuh?

Fontana: My uncle is sleeping.

SDH: But... you asked for this interview, Mr. Fontana.

Fontana: That's right, cousin, but you're early.

[In his raspy, gravelly voice, Il Eterno's hoarse whispering is barely
audible, at times.]

SDH: Early?

Fontana: Pas plus que deux minutes.

SDH: What?

[Fontana tilts his head, as if he's trying to hone in on a distant
sound.]

Fontana: Ouais, je l'entend arriver. Right on time...

SDH: What's what?

[Perry stands up as, in the distance, a distressed female voice echoes
in the cement corridors. It belongs to Tara "Sunburst" Marshall, wife
of "Hellraiser" Tom Landis.]

TSM [Off Screen]: PERRY! PERRY!

[The shouts are rapidly getting louder, but they're clearly not loud
enough to wake up the old man, yet. Tara pops into the screen, and
already she tugs at Fontana's sleeve, trying to lead him away.]

TSM: Perry! You've got to do something! They're attacking him! They're
assaulting Tom!

Fontana: Who?

TSM: The champs!

Fontana: The lawyers? Where?

TSM: In the locker room you guys had!

Fontana: I really don't know if I can handle these guys alone, Tara,
but I've just got to do something. OK, here's what we're going to go.
I'll get to the locker room and do what I can while you find us some
back-up!

TSM: Right! OK! ... Go! Quick!

[In a flash, Fontana heads for the locker room while Tara Marshall
bolts in the opposite direction. On the bench, Jacques Fontana
peacefully naps.]

[They run down the corridor as crashing sounds grow louder and louder,
then Fontana, Dean Hayes and the cameraman turn into the locker room
in time to see Livestock pick up Landis in a back suplex and put him
over his partner's shoulders so Gutch can powerbomb Tom straight
through a wooden table that was likely set up for this very occasion!]


"___KURRRWWAAACKR~!!!___"


[A shower of wooden shrapnel sprinkles the nearby area.] SDH: Holy
crap!!

[Fontana steps forth, approaching Tom Landis' bruised body and the tag
team champions standing over it. They stare at each other for few
tense moments.]

Gutch: What's shakin', Perry?

[His face turning jovial, Gutch nods enthusiastically towards Fontana,
an odd air of friendship between the men.]

Fontana: Hey, guys. Can I have a moment?

Livestock: I don't see why not. He's your brother-in-law.

[The Everlasting One crouches down next to Landis, glancing up at the
tag champs without apprehension before turning his full concern
towards his wife's brother.]

Fontana: You alright, _Tom_?

[Tom's answer is a gargled cough.]

Fontana: Well, there's NO DOUBT about it, _brother_, you take your
_beatings_ like a MAN!

[Spittle rains down on Landis, still paralyzed by pain.]

Fontana: But when you have to _take_ THAT MANY _beatings_ THAT
_OFTEN_... Odds are you're not _learning_ the LESSONS you're supposed
to LEARN! Am I right, cousins?

Livestock: Agreed. Mind you, I don't suppose we're helping matters by
dropping him on his head.

SDH: Wait... what's going on, here? Are you guys in cahoots?

Gutch: Oh, Dean, that's such an ugly word. Funny-soundin', too.
"Cahoots". Ca. Hoots. Sounds like it means owl poop or something.

[Everyone save the semi-comatose Landis gives Gutch a funny look.
Fontana turns his attention back to his brother in law.]

Fontana: But don't worry, Tom. You're my brother, now, and I _love_
you. I'm here to _help_ you LEARN! Aaaah ouais! When the champs heard
you might be making a bid for their _belts_, they weren't PLEASED,
ouais. As you can see, they don't look kindly on guys that wrestle
_SOLO_ their entire career, then suddenly _fashion_ themselves a tag
team wrestler. But I'm here, now. I can _help_ you.

SDH: You guys all in this together!

Fontana: You see, _brother_, I've been taught that a MAN watches his
_brother's_ back at _all_ TIMES!!! No exceptions. Even if it _"robs"_
his BELOVED BROTHER of a _"clean_victory"_, ouais. Back on Tradition
IV, when you _didn't_ watch my back and COST me _MY_ title... you
seemed to have _different_ VALUES! But because I _love_ you, I can
respect that. To you, there _ARE_ exceptions. So here is my
_question_, Tom. Is right now one of those _exceptions_... or not? Do
you _want_ me to _watch_ your BACK?

[By now, Tom has recuperated enough to be able to look straight up at
"Le Phenix" with a hard glare of pure, defiant hatred.]

Fontana: All you have to do is _reach_ out and _TAG_ me IN, OUAIS!
That's what _real_ teams do, Tom. Be a _team_ player and _tag_ me in!

[Landis goes limp, passes out.]

Fontana: I guess this means this is one of your... "_exceptions_."

[Fontana cocks an eyebrow in the Tag Champions' direction, which
Livestock Zappa takes as meaning "pick Landis up and hurt him again".
Hoisting Landis up with ease, the powerhouse Livestock executes a
fisherman's DDT on Landis. At this point Tom seems to lose
consciousness.]

SDH: Holy mackerel! Someone has to stop this!!

Livestock: That's the Stupefactor, Dean. Learn to love it. It's a
neck-breaking, concussion-causing impact and it's how I express my
disdain. Aw, Gutch!

[Why is Livestock so annoyed? Why, Gutch has already sat down on
Landis and passed gas with a hissing sound.]

Gutch: That would've been silent if only there wasn't so much of it!

SDH: Perry! He's your brother! Do something!

Fontana: He doesn't want help, cousin. Don't _rob_ my brother of his
DIGNITY!

Gutch: Oh... oh it's coming!

SDH: What's coming? Help?

Gutch: Not quite.


"____FFFFFRRRRRRROOOOOOOAAAAAATTTSSSSSSssssflflflfl...___"


SDH: No... don't tell me...

Livestock: EGGFART!!

Gutch: Nevermind, THAT was the big one!

[Landis stirs and begins to choke as Dean Hayes turns a pale shade of
green... but Fontana smirks confidently. He takes strong pincers out
of his pocket and securely plugs his nose, chuckling at the misfortune
of those around him. Then... he dry heaves!]

Fontana: The PINCERS! They do _nothing_!

[Perry gags, but the pincers over as Dean Hayes flat out faints from
the smell and crumples to the floor. And Landis? Well, he was at
ground zero. Saying more would simply be inhumane.]

Fontana: MAN! That's _disgusting!_

Gutch: Thanks! Had a garlic pizza with my hardboiled eggs today.

Fontana: Ugh! ... So, Tom. Don't you think the _world_ would be a
better place if _brothers_ looked out for each other a little more?
Don't you think things would _improve_ if you showed a little more
_TEAM_ spirit? Don't you want to _tag_ me in so I can _save_ you, now?

[Tom's answer is a garbled moan.]

Fontana: Guess not.

[Another look towards the tag champs, and Livestock looks at Gutch.
The fat man shrugs and they pick Landis up. It's truly pitiful as
Landis gives them no assistance. His limp form is heaved up onto
Livestock's shoulders, and he executes a rolling slam on Landis,
rolling away as Gutch hits a splash. Moaning anew, Landis chokes on
his own fluids, but makes no sign of self-awareness.]

Gutch: Uh ... 'Stock? Maybe we should stop now?

Livestock: Agreed. This stopped being funny a few minutes ago.

[Again, Fontana crouches next to his brother-in-law, but just as he's
about to ask Tom if he finally wants his help, Perry suddenly cocks
his head. Hearing a commotion outside the locker room, he lets himself
crumple to the floor, seemingly unconscious. A second later, Tara's
voice resounds.]

Livestock: Now it's just sad. Hey, what the?

TSM: There they are, guys!

Gutch: What the hell is this!?

[The door bursts open and Max Weinrib and Salih Mubarak, dressed in
street clothes, burst in. Seeing Fontana and Landis on the ground, and
Livestock and Gutch standing, they run in, Salih jumping at Gutch
while Max attempts to bull rush Livestock.  After a few seconds, the
four-man brawl is led outside the cramped locker room into the
hallway.  Tara bends down to check on Tom and Perry as the camera
fades to black...]

CL: Holy cow what was that all about?

FH: Perry teaching Landis some tough love.

CL: The Four on Four is set to happen hear shortly and both Livestock,
The Gutch, Max, and Sal are all apart of it!

FH: Don't get too far ahead of yourself.  Look inside the ring there
Chip.

CL: Fans, one issue that has not been cooled down or settled over our
long hiatus is the rivalry between Doc Holliday and Alex Martinez. In
fact, the two have kept at each other verbally and otherwise during
the downtime. Both men are legends in the sport. Martinez is likely to
become the first wrestler ever inducted into the wrestling Hall Of
Fame while still active; Holliday was the winner of the highly
prestigious Charles Linnenberger Cup tournament earlier this year...
but one thing neither man has in his resume is a clean win over the
other.

FH: That could change tonight, Chip.

CL: They're not wrestling tonight, Fred. This is a contract signing.

FH: Riiiight. Have you EVER seen a contract signing that doesn't end
with somebody getting beaten up? The question isn't whether violence
will ensue; the question is whether somebody gets stretchered out. And
you can talk up Doc Holliday all you want to: he's not stretchering
out Alex Martinez. Not now, not ever.

CL: Unless he stabs him or shoots him.

FH: ...uhh... he might do that, actually. Martinez has more World
Titles, but Holliday has more felony indictments. He's the Ray Lewis
of professional wrestling.

CL: Then who does that make Martinez?

FH: I'll let you know just as soon as someone ends Ray Lewis' career.
THAT would be Martinez.

[We pan up to the ring, where Swingin' Dean Hayes stands with a
microphone alongside some PVW officials. One of them is setting up a
table in the middle of the ring, in the hopes that PVW will now hold
the first-ever contract signing where someone doesn't get attacked.]

FH: Twenty bucks says Holliday goes through that table. Wait how did
Dean Hayes make it to the ring so fast. Wasn't he just interviewing
Perry Fontana?

CL: Come on Fred, even you have to know a fight breaks out and Dean
Hayes runs.

FH: ::chuckles:: Something you should learn to do.

SDH: Ladies and gentlemen, tonight we have a very special contract
signing for Rise From The Ashes 2010. Two of the most famous... or
infamous... men in wrestling will meet in the squared circle,
culminating a long and bitter feud. First of all, please let me
introduce... "The Last American Badass"... ALEX MARTINEZ!

["Battle Without Honor or Humanity" blares over the loudspeakers,
competing with the very loud boos of the audience. Stepping out onto
the entranceway is The only and only Last American Badass. Alex
Martinez is dressed as usual, wearing a black leather jacket over a
white t-shirt, and a pair of fading blue jeans. The spotlights reflect
brightly off the mirrored lenses of his sunglasses. Martinez strides
easily down the aisle, ignoring the fans as they scream taunts at him.
He enters the ring with the same confident swagger, throwing one long
leg and then the other over the top rope. Martinez yanks the
microphone out of Hayes' hands and speaks.]

AM: Shut the hell up!

[The fans boo even louder.]

AM: I was hopin' I wouldn't ever have to come back here. So let's get
this damn thing over with. Holliday, why don't you drag your ass out
here?

[Martinez hands the microphone back, but not before giving Hayes an
intimidating glare.]

SDH: Well, then let's get him out here. Introducing... DOC HOLLIDAY!

[The solo harmonica open to "Man With A Harmonica" by Ennio Morricone
fills the air with its foreboding melody, triggering a tremendous
ovation from the crowd. Striding from the back, wearing his 1880's
Western livery, is Doc Holliday. The lean, light-brown haired Arizonan
ambles on down the aisle with a knowing smirk on his face. He wears
his black frock coat (with shiny gold pocketwatch chain), white
ruffled silk undershirt (which is an anarchonism within an
anachronism, but he doesn't care), black slacks, black 'western' hat,
and brown dress shoes. In his hand is his mahogany hand-carved walking
stick, which he uses to assist himself on his way down the aisle.

His unhurried pace and general demeanor don't sit well with the man in
the ring.]

AM: I SAID GET YOUR ASS IN HERE! STOP WITH THAT DAMN FAKE LIMP! HURRY
UP!

[Holliday's smirk grows broader at his adversaries' irritation. So he
decides to start slapping hands and interacting with fans, slowing
down even more. Martinez is belligerently yelling (sans microphone
now) at Holliday, but Doc just calmly pulls out his pocketwatch, nods
to no one in particular, and makes his way to ringside. The crowd
cheers as Holliday takes his sweet time, and the impatient Martinez
seethes. Finally, Alex picks up one of the two chairs set up next to
the table, and throws it at Doc. Holliday ducks just in time as the
chair goes sailing past, thankfully down the aisle instead of into the
crowd.]

CL: I just don't see how this isn't going to explode.

FH: Duh. You know they scheduled this knowing that it would. Maybe
they're trying to get Dean Hayes off the payroll by putting him in the
middle of it. Somebody up there doesn't like you, Dean!

[Holliday sticks one leg through the ropes, very slowly... he's
casting a distrusting eye on Martinez, and has his cane ready to swing
if the big man should charge him. And that's exactly what it looks
like Martinez wants to do. Dean makes an effort to get some semblance
of control.]

SDH: Gentlemen! Gentlemen, please! We have a contract to sign, and
it's never going to get done at this rate!

[Hearing the logic in that, Martinez steps back to allow Holliday to
enter the ring. He then grabs Hayes' microphone again.]

AM: Oh, its gettin' signed. Holliday, you don't get a pen in your hand
by the time I'm done with this sentence, I'm gonna bust you open and
sign it in your blood. And if you don't think I will, you just try me.
I've never been a patient man, and I'm too old to learn that trick
now.

[After shoving the mic back in Dean's chest, Martinez steps over to
his side of the table... the side that still has a chair. Holliday
crooks a finger in Dean's direction and calls him over. It's now his
turn to speak, in his baritone twang.]

DocH: Ya know, Martinez, ah was settin' home in Tucson this summer.
Keepin' in fightin' shape fer two reasons, an' two reasons only. One
of them reasons ain't shown his face, but you! You, ah knowed ah could
git you inna ring, in Phoenix or anyplace. Now ah ain't run from you,
an' th' fact thet ah'm standin' heah without a contract proves it. An'
ah know yer doin' th' same, ain't ya?

[Martinez nods vigorously, thumping the contract on the table besides
him to indicate that he'd prefer less talking and more signing,
probably followed by seven or eight Firebombs.]

DocH: Yer Network pulled up an' took off. Left ya high an' dry. Same
fer me. Now we both got big money contracts thet ain't bein' paid out,
so whut're we doin' here? Why're ya so dang anxious ta sign a piece o'
paper ta fight fer just about nothin'?

An' ah see how antsy ya are, an' ah know th' answer. All summer, all
fall, th' question been in yer mind, ain't it? "Can I beat Doc
Holliday?" It gnawed at ya. Ever'body kept askin', ever'body kept
naggin'. Ah'm th' one man left you ain't fought one-on-one. An' you
jus' cain't look in th' mirror an' say ya beat 'em all 'till ya beat
Doc Holliday. Which, ah don't need ta remind ya, don't happen real
often.

[Martinez finally has heard enough, steps towards Holliday, and growls
into the microphone that Dean is holding... inches from Doc's face.]

AM: You've been havin' delusions of adequacy, ain't ya? I wanna kick
your ass, that's for damn sure. But that's because you're like a gnat,
buzzin' around my head, just waitin' to get swatted. So sign your damn
name on the dotted line, and let's set the time and date for your
execution.

Let's get one thing clear Holliday. You ain't nearly as important as
ya think you are. You think I need a win over you? Lemme explain
somethin' to you, that shoulda been clear from the get go. When it
comes to resumes, you don't wanna be comparin' yours to mine. Because,
just like in every other department?

Mine is bigger, and more impressive.

[Holliday's eyes start to flare up at Martinez's comparison. It seems
that the "Last American Badass" has found the sore spot.]

DocH: If yer so much greater, why're ya so anxious ta fight me fer
nothin'?

[A third voice comes up over the PA. A voice that takes many by
surprise...]

Jessica Marshall: Because he's not. In fact, he's getting paid
handsomely.

[The crowd boos as the woman they thought they were rid of emerges
from the back.  Jessica is dressed in black leather pants and a black
half t-shirt, with her hair crimped and styled in waves.  It would
appear that Fatality the businesswoman has left the building...
replaced by Fatality the outright bitch.

Holliday turns his head slowly, as if this were something he did not
expect. Martinez, conversely, smiles... that rare smile of his, that
looks like the cat that ate the canary (after pulling its feathers out
one by one, followed by its bones).]

AM: Hey mastermind.

[Martinez continues to smile.]

AM: Didn't see that one comin', did ya?

JM: Strickland Sports Network pulled out, Holliday. But I never did.
In fact, this is the opportunity I've been waiting for. No more idiot
businessmen to kowtow to, none of whom know enough about wrestling to
fill a thimble. No more corporate albatross around my neck. The
investment team that is restoring this company to glory?

Who do you think might be on that team, hmmm?

[Holliday nods slowly... and the fans boo loudly. This is not the
greatest news that could have come out... and the crowd forlornly
realizes that they have more executive meddling to look forward to.]

DocH: Ah, right. A setup. Ah guess even th' sun shines on a dog's ass
once in a while.

JM: As you know, before the... restructuring... PVW had two seven-
figure contracts on the books. Yours, and Alex's. Without network
support, as the old saying goes, there can be only one. I'm sure you
can imagine who that is. As for you, Holliday? Alex just showed
everyone why you have to sign that contract, didn't he? You fancy
yourself as such a legend. But really, in the big picture? The winners
write the history books. And the people who are writing the history
books never gave you a look, did they? So I'm afraid to say, you're
the one who will sign the contract to fight for nothing.

[Jessica reaches ringside, a victorious smile on her face. Holliday's
expression doesn't change, an ice-cold poker face that stares Marshall
right in the eyes.]

DocH: So whut yer sayin'... is Alex Martinez is a coward.

AM: WHAT?!

[Martinez lunges forward, and grabs Holliday by the neck! The fans
shout and scream... but Doc doesn't react. Well, outside of the usual
face-turning-red of being choked, and his back arching way back
because a seven foot monster is manhandling him. Doc turns to regard
Martinez, looking him in the eyes as he tries his best to get the
words out through the choke.]

DocH: *ggkk* Never thought I'd see th' day *hhkk* when a woman did yer
dirty work...

AM: Is that what you think? You're a bigger idiot than I thought you
were. You think I'm hidin' behind some skirt? Is that what you think?
Is it?

[Holliday doesn't answer. Who could, with a seven foot giant choking
you and shaking you like a rag doll? Truth be told, Holliday is
holding up remarkably well.]

AM: No one _ever_ fights my battles for me. No one ever needs to. You
know who I am? You know what I've done? Do you?

[Martinez eases his grip just enough to let Doc choke out a few
words.]

DocH: ...then *ggkk* ah got a deal fer ya.

JM: Don't listen to him! You've already won!

DocH: Take it... *kkk* outta her hands. Put it on th' line. In... yer
own *gggk* hands.

AM: You better come to the point pretty damn Holliday. Feelin' my
hands on your throat is the first step a jackass takes to
Firebombville.

[Holliday has now gone from red to purple, but manages to spit out
three final words.]

DocH: Loser. Leaves. Town.

JM: NO!

[The crowd explodes in cheers, and Martinez lets go (very roughly) and
demands to hear that again. Holliday crouches down slightly, trying to
regain his breath.]

AM: You know, I don't think I heard that well enough. Why don't you
say it again?

DocH: Ah said... Loser Leaves Town!

[More cheers, and Marshall rolls into the ring, clearly extremely
nervous about what she just heard.]

AM: That's a sucker's bet. You're already outta here once I'm done
with ya. Why would I agree to that?

And anyway, ain't no one ever ran me out of town anywhere before. Why
would I even allow you the delusion of thinkin' you're up for it?

DocH: Simple. Noone's evah run ME outta town either!

AM: Ever?

DocH: Thet's right. It's nevah been done! __AN' IT CAIN'T BE DONE__!

[Ooooooh. That statement stops Martinez' rage cold. A big smile forms
on his face, and he nods.]

AM: Yer on.

[A deafening roar echoes across the arena. Poor Jessica looks like
she's about to faint.]

JM: NO! ALEX! WHAT ARE YOU THINKING?!

AM: I'm thinkin' that there ain't no chance Holliday can beat me. I'm
thinkin' that this is a nice way to justify that big ass check you're
gettin', And I'm thinkin' that a PVW without Doc Holliday is just the
sorta place I wanna spend my time.

JM: But... but we have no time! We'd have to draft an entirely new
contract!

[Martinez reaches over to the table, grabs the contract, and rips it
to shreds to the roar of the crowd!]

AM: There, problem solved.

DocH: Marshall, don' evah fer one minute think yer in control when Doc
Holliday is involved. Martinez, ah want ya ta remebah, day an' night,
whut it means at Rise From Th' Ashes. If ah put ya down? Yer gonna
hafta live yer whole life knowin' thet Doc Holliday ran ya outta
Arizona! As fer you runnin' me outta MY state?

Ah'll sooner die.

AM: You're gonna get your wish, cuz lemme tell ya, that's exactly my
plan Holliday.

[Martinez rears back his hand... Holliday brandishes his cane... the
fans jump to their feet...]

AM: You just remember one thing. At Rise from the Ashes? There'll be
no excuses. And if you got ‘em? Well hell, it won't matter, will it?

You ain't gonna be around to give ‘em.

No excuses Holliday. None at all.

[With that, the giant stands down, and steps over the top rope to exit
the ring. Holliday gazes on, smiling at Marshall... who is still in
shock and disbelief. Doc echoes the last phrase as his cocky smirk
returns.]

DH: No excuses. Full stakes is th' only way Doc Holliday knows howta
play. An' with ever'thang... EVERYTHANG on th' line? Martinez, ya ran
off yer big list o' accomplishments, but ya left off one real big
thang. Of all th' enemies you had in yer career, there's one you've
lost to. Time an' again.

PRESSURE.

Ah'll see ya at Rise From Th' Ashes. An' remembah: all ya got ta
lose... is _everything_.

CL: WHOA ...  It's time to mark out folks!  Two of the industries
biggest legends of all time are about to clash head-to-head and one of
them will have to leave PVW when it's all said and done!

FH: Finally all my dreams are going to come true.  Doc Holliday
unemployed and chased out of the PVW!  Almost brings a tear to my
eyes.

CL:  Rise From the Ashes II just added a blockbuster.  All eyes will
return to Phoenix and on Doc Holliday and Alex Martinez.  PVW and
Arizona isn't big enough for the both of them.

FH: Rise From the Ashes II is going to be like Christmas all around
here.  I am so darn excited I can't hardly wait.

CL: Matches don't get any bigger then this.  The PVW World
Championship may not be on the line, but you can bet the winner will
be making a strong push at gaining the next title shot!

FH: Alex Martinez ... PVW World Champion ... It has a nice ring to it.

CL: He will have to do it alone now.  No network backing ...

FH: He don't need it.

CL: Next up is the PVW throw back Showcase tag team match up.

FH: That just sounds confusing.  All I know is Gibson Hayes is
involved and that makes it all good.

CL: There is a lot of history and bad blood that will be involved in
this match.  I am not even where to start.

FH: How about with the fact Hersher von Donkerhardt should be lucky
that he is even back in America after the crimes he did.  He should be
held up in trial at the United Nations!

CL: You can bet that HvD has been chomping at the bits to get his
hands back around Gibson Hayes and Todd Johnstone.

FH: Let's be honest Chip half the wrestling world wants to get their
hands on Gibson Hayes.  They talk the talk and when it comes to put up
and face America's only true hero they make up excuses.

CL: Like what?

FH: I'm injured ... I missed m flight ... I've been shot.

CL: Shot?

FH: It's happened Chip.

CL: Well Gibson Hayes and HvD aren't the only two with bad blood.
Johnny Detson trashed the PVW and Caleb Foley didn't take too kindly
with the venom Detson spewed PVW's way.

FH: When you are Johnny Detson you can say just about anything you
want.  And who is Caleb Foley to tell Detson what he can and can't
say?

CL: If there is a Mr. PVW it's always been Caleb Foley.  The youngster
was born and bread inside the PVW ring.  He became one of the hottest
superstars in the wrestling world and he considers PVW his home.  So
when someone stands up and trashes PVW you can bet Caleb Foley takes
exception to that Fred.

FH: It's just a paycheck kid relax!

CL:  Then there is Max and Sal and the current PVW Tag Team Champions.
The last time these two teams were inside the ring together Max and
Sal picked up a major upset.

FH: It was obvious Livestock and The Gutch had other matters on their
mind.

CL: Perhaps but the record books reflect that night.

FH: They are lawyers they can get that changed if they wanted too.

CL: Video doesn't lie.

FH: Have you not watched porn Chip?

CL: The Voice is standing by.

FH: Avoiding the question I see.

["The Voice" Herk Douglas stands in the center of the ring waiting for
his Que.]

HD: This match is scheduled for one fall.  Introducing first from
Hollywood California.  Mr. Blockbuster himself ...

Johnny Detson!!!

[Fans roar in a series of boo's.  The smug and arrogant Johnny Detson
steps out from the curtains as he stands in the entrance way and soaks
up the Phoenix reaction.  He then begins to strut his way towards the
ring.]

CL: Johnny Detson seems pleased with himself.

FH: He takes great pride in putting the pressure on PVW and the fact
he made them struggle.

CL: I doubt Johnny Detson was the sole reason SSN pulled their
backing.

FH: It couldn't have hurt though.  You don't want Hollywood against
you.

[“Breaking the Law” by Judas Priest plays, and with no lighting
effects, no fanfare,
just the words "Livestock and the Gutch" on the PVW video screen, a
pair of big men
in business suits carrying briefcases emerge from the entrance
portal.]

[The Gutch stops just outside the portal and begins doing what can
only be called a
"Stupid white man dance".  He calls it "The Gootch Bartilootch."
Livestock just looks the other way, pretending that he doesn't have an
idiot for a partner.]

HD: Introducing next.  Accompanied to the ring by Zeke Craven.  They
are the current PVW Tag Team Champions.  Livestock and The Gutch.

[At this, they begin walking down the aisle.]

[Still walking.]

[Aaand they reach the ring.  Saints be praised.]

HD: And now the champion - he hails from Tuscaloosa, Alabama and
weights in at 224 pounds. He is the only Double Champion in PVW
history and has held onto to the Phoenix Valley Wrestling American
Heavyweight title for nearly three years. This is Gibson...

GIB-SON SUCKS! *clap-clap-clap-clap-clap*

GIB-SON SUCKS! *clap-clap-clap-clap-clap*

GIB-SON SUCKS! *clap-clap-clap-clap-clap*

[The piano opening to Faith No More's "Everything's Ruined" leads into
the song proper as Evelyn Prosser and *GASP* Warren "Big Bubba" Hayes
emerge from behind the curtain. Noticble absent is Todd "The Rod"
Johnstone, curious. A full .35 seconds have passed before...]

Things worked out better than we had planned
Capital from boy, woman and man

[...here comes Gibson Hayes. Wearing his trademarked afro, dark red
cast on his right arm, red trunks, blue shin guards, white elbow and
knee pads, Hayes is also carrying a blue flag with a red circle in the
middle. In the center of that circle are tilted, interlocking letters;
the letters are G and H. Hayes is taking is sweet time getting to the
ring. Waving his flag, Gibson points to the audience, who respond with
a shower of boos.]

People loved him so
And helped him to grow
Everyone knew the thing that was best
Of course, he must invest

[Climbing each ring corner, in a bizarre parody of fanfavorite antics,
Gibson waves his flag and salutes the fans, all with a condescending
smirk on his face. Finally, he goes to the middle of the ring, making
everyone wait a little bit longer.]

Now everything's ruined

[Hayes points at the fans... then slaps his ass and lifts his free
left hand in a gesture to the fans that is very unprofessional.]

FH: The Hawaii peace sign by Gibson.

CL: If that's what you want to call it.

FH: Gibson offering peace to the Phoenix fans.  Total class Chip.
It's such a honor to have Gibson back inside the PVW.  I am not sure I
would have wanted to return to a Hayes and Marley-less PVW.

CL: We just weren't that lucky.

[Hayes and Detson trade looks as Livestock and Gutch join the duo in
good spirits.]

HD: And their opponents... Introducing first from New York City.  They
are known as the tag team of Max and Sal ... Max Weinrib and Salih
Mubarak.

["Rock the Casbah" by the Clash rocks the PA system.  They emerge as
usual dressed like the duo in ‘Rock the Casbah'; Sheikh and Orthodox
Rabbi.  The fans love the easy going and fun loving duo as they slap
hands on their way to ring side.]

FH: Such disrespect!  How could you come out dressed like that when
you are stepping inside the ring with such an American icon!?!

CL: It's Max and Sal I mean I doubt they mean any disrespect.

FH: Quite the contrary Chip.  These two clowns have been disrespectful
from their arrival.  Tonight they will get a taste of their own
medicine.

CL: And Gibson doesn't appear to be too happy with their ring attire.

FH: Neither am I Chip.  I am quite offended!

HD: Introducing second.  Wrestling out of the Utrecht, Netherlands.
Hersher von Donkerhardt!

[With no music - HvD emerges from the back.  A stone cold serious look
sits across his face.  The fans are set behind the Netherlands native
as they cheer the Submission machine.  Donkerhardt begins heading down
the aisle way slapping a few hands that are tossed right in front of
him.]

CL: Donkerhardt looks a little thrown off at the support he has here
in Phoenix.

FH: Of course he is.  Nobody likes this guy.  I doubt his own mother
even likes him.

CL: Well he has the full support of the Phoenix natives here tonight.

FH: It shows what they know.  Just wait for the reaction Gibson get's.
A hero's welcome!

HD: And finally ...

["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...]

FH: Oh brother ... Anyone but this cry baby.

[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.]


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



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

THE CELTIC CRIPPLER....

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

[FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!]

[Foley continues to walk down to the ring as the fans are chanting his
name but seems not to really be interacting with them. Foley slides
underneath the bottom ropes and walks over to Herscher, Max and Sal
and begin to talk some strategy. Caleb tells his partners he has got
this and wants to start the match. Max and Sal exit the ring and stand
next to each other on the ring apron as Herscher is making sure Caleb
has got this and Caleb shakes his head yes. Caleb takes off his jacket
and begins to stretch in his corner as he awaits the bell.]

CL: Caleb Foley is ready tonight!

FH: Johnny Detson standing across in-between Foley and referee Mark
Barnett giving Foley an ear-full.

CL: And Foley isn't even looking towards Detson.

[While Detson is taunting Foley ...  Livestock and The Gutch follow
Hayes lead and step to the outside ring apron.]


************************************************************
************************************************************
** Phoenix Valley Wrestling - Tag Team Action -           **
** Gibson Hayes, Johnny Detson, Livestock and The Gutch   **
** v. Caleb Foley, Hersher von Donkerhardt, Max and Sal   **
************************************************************
************************************************************


}


CL: AND CALEB FOLEY TURNS AND SPEARS THE UNEXPECTING JOHNNY DETSON AND
DRIVES HIM DOWN TO THE MAT!!!!


"___THUUUUUD___"


*** KICK HIS POMPASS ASS POP ***


[Detson not even realizing he was starting the match off for his team
was driven up in the air and down to the mat with a vicious spear by
the Celtic Crippler.   And on the outside ring apron Gibson Hayes has
just stepped down off the ring apron as Livestock and The Gutch turn
and look as his bodyguards with the PVW American Championship in hand
begin to follow suit as the trio head towards the back.]

CL: Where is Gibson going?  He has just left Detson and the tag team
champions high and dry!

FH: He felt disrespected Chip.  He gave PVW his blood ... His heart
... He gave these fans his SOUL!

CL: Give me a break.  This is classic Gibson Hayes right here.  Turn
your back and high tail it out of here.

[... However meanwhile inside the ring we have a match going on.  The
Celtic Crippler has now mounted Detson and drives vicious forearm
shots down!]

CL: Forearm shots rain down on Detson!

FH: Detson was attacked from that Irish thug!

[Detson is yanked right up and tossed across and into the ropes.  The
dazed and confused Detson rebounds off and right into a spinning
powerslam!]


!!! ONE !!!


CL: No Caleb Foley didn't even give Detson time to kick out.  He just
leaped off the Hollywood star.

FH: That is a mistake that will return to cost him later.

CL: Perhaps but right now Caleb Foley doesn't care.  He has a point to
prove and he wants Johnny Detson and anyone else watching to take
notice.

[Foley has Detson back on his feet and a big European uppercut.
Another big European uppercut.  Foley locks the arm and then hooks his
leg infront of Detson's and _drives_ him face first down into the
mat!]

CL: Foley has come out and he is just _taking_ it to Johnny Detson
here tonight!

FH: Bushwhacked him that's the only way those Irish can fight.

[Foley is on his feet and he charges and hits Livestock with a hard
right.  He turns and hits The Gutch.  He grabs Livestock and sends him
up and over inside the ring.  He pulls the tag team champion up and
wraps his arms around him ... belly-to-belly suplex!]


"___THUUUUUUUD___"


CL: Foley is now taking it out on the PVW Tag Team Champions and Max
and Sal love it!

FH: Of course they do.  They probably are still a little loopy from
partying it up earlier in the day.

[The Gutch has now entered the ring and Foley is up and unloading hard
rights and lefts.  Mark Barnett warns Max, Sal, and HvD to stay on the
outside as he tries to get control of the things in the early going.
Livestock is slowly getting up and Foley whips The Gutch right towards
his partner.]


*** GUTCH MEET LIVESTOCK POP ***


CL: Foley is just taking it to all three men here tonight!

FH: Don't look now but the Irishman's luck is about to run out.

[And Detson drops the turning around Foley with a side crescent kick.]

FH: That will slow ya down.  See what happens when you get greedy?

CL: And it looks like Livestock wants some of Foley.  Mark Barnett is
forcing him back to the outside apron.

[Detson shaking the cob-webs and is looking around and questioning
Zeke now where Gibson Hayes went. Detson shakes his head as Zeke
shrugs his shoulders and pulls Foley back to his feet and rams his
knee into the mid-section doubling the youngster over.]

CL: Johnny Detson is hooking the arms of Foley.

FH: The Director's Cut! Detson nailed his version of the double
underhook piledriver and Foley is seeing more stars than just Johnny
Detson now!

[Detson doesn't give Foley a second to rest as he pulls Foley to his
feet and tags in Livestock. Detson hooks both of Foley's arms so
Livestock can tee off on him with a series of right hands.]

FH: Foley must be having flashbacks to when his daddy used to take him
to the woodshed!

CL: FRED!

FH: What? I can't help it if Foley is the redheaded step child.

[Barnett finally shoves Johnny Detson to the ring apron as Livestock
grabs Foley and hooks him in a front chancery.]

FH: Fisherman's Buster! And Livestock holds it for the pin!


!!! ONE !!!


!!! TWO !!!


CL: And Max dives in breaking up the pin with a kick to Livestock's
ribs.

[Livestock glares at Max as he stands back to his feet and drops a
quick knee into the skull of Foley. Livestock laughs as Foley grabs
the side of his head. Livestock pulls Foley to his feet and whips the
smaller man hard into the corner, Foley staggers out from the impact
and Livestock catches him with a vicious clothesline.]

CL: Foley down once again.

FH: He should be used to it I've heard he was making a name for
himself in other federations getting beat on a nightly basis. Which
isn't much different than his PVW career.

CL: Livestock with a series of boots to the chest of Foley and now he
scoops him up and plants him with a body slam.

FH: Livestock ascending the top rope! I hate it when men Livestock's
size think they can fly!

[Livestock leaps off of the top rope with a picture perfect elbow
drop.]


"___TTTHHHUUUDDD___"


CL: And the pool was empty! Caleb just rolled out of the way and
Livestock took the full impact of the elbow drop.

[Livestock grabs his elbow in pain as Caleb Foley slowly rolls towards
the ropes and tries to pull himself to his feet. Max and Sal begin to
stomp on the ring apron trying to will Foley to his feet, and suddenly
the crowd begins to roar for the Celtic Crippler.]

CL: These fans love Caleb Foley!

FH:WHY? He can't win when it matters. I mean he couldn't even win a
match he dedicated to his father!

CL: FRED!

FH: At least Chase delivered on his promise.

CL: FRED! Foley almost to his feet but Livestock drives his boot into
the back of Foley dropping him to the canvas once again.

[Livestock pulls Foley into his corner and tags big Gutch in.]

FH: Now Foley has done it.  It's been at least twenty minutes since
The Gutch has eaten last.  He isn't in a very good mood.

CL: As long as it wasn't egg's we are good.

FH: I concur!

[The Gutch pulls the Celtic Crippler to his feet and whips him across
with a ring shaking Irish Whip.  He then turns and takes off at full
speed ... Well as fast as The Gutch can charge across ...]


"___CLAAAAAANG___"


*** NOBODY HOME POP ***


CL: Caleb Foley just dove out of the way before he became a pancake.
And Foley rolls forward and TAGS IN SAL!


*** HOT TAG POP ***

[Sal comes in like a house of fire catching Gutch with a series of
right hands, which barely move the big man. Sal rebounds off of the
far side ropes and leaps catching Gutch with a flying forearm that
once again barely moves the big man.]

FH: It's like watching a gnat attack an elephant.

[Sal leaps and catches Gutch with a low drop kick that finally brings
the tag team champion to one knee. Sal fires off a European uppercut
and Gutch just shoves Sal away.]

CL: The size difference allows Gutch to absorb some massive amounts of
punishment as evidenced by the way he just shoved Sal away there. But
Sal isn't stopping his attack as he drills Gutch in the mouth with a
stiff kick!

FH: Gutch felt that one but still the beast is on one knee.

[Foley motions for Sal to make the tag and Sal does so. Caleb catches
Gutch with a stiff right hand and pulls Gutch off of his knee.]

CL: Wait is Foley trying to body slam the Gutch?!?

FH: You have to be kidding me! He can't really be that dumb!

[Foley struggles for a few moments to no avail and suddenly Sal slips
back into the ring and tries to body slam the Gutch as well. The Gutch
chuckles for a moment before Sal catches him with another European
uppercut. HvD stalks into the ring and the crowd cheers as he tries to
power the Gutch up but once again he gets no where. The Gutch finally
begins to fight back as he catches HvD with a forearm but big Max chop
blocks the knee out from underneath the Gutch.]

FH: Finally here comes Livestock!

[As Max pounds on the forehead of the Gutch Livestock is quickly
tossed out of the ring by Sal and Foley. Max goes for the body slam
but once again he gets no where.]

CL: And all four men just begin to rain rights, lefts and kicks to the
man-beast Gutch.

[Sal begins to order the other three men around; Sal and Max both hook
the head and arms of Gutch as Foley and HvD grab a leg and they begin
to power the Gutch over to the approval of the crowd.]

CL: All four men just suplexed the Gutch!

FH: If Gibson was here he wouldn't of allowed this to happen!

CL: Sal drops down to make the cover ...  So does Max ... Foley now on
top and HvD joins them!

FH: All four men covering Gutch!?!


*** PHOENIX LOVES IT POP ***


!!! ONE !!!


FH: Why is the ref even counting?


!!! TWO !!!


[Livestock and Detson are inside the ring and they are tossing men
off.]

CL: I guess kick out?

FH: Mark Barnett is just shrugging and with good reason!

CL: Mark Barnett is a well traveled referee and I don't even know if
he has ever seen anything like this.

FH: Gutch should have used his secret weapon right there.  It would of
cleared the ring.

CL: Try building.

[Detson ducks under a charging clothesline by Max.  He turns and eats
one by Foley and he is up and over the top ropes and to the outside.]

FH: He however landed on his feet!  Detson is like a cat Chip.  He
always lands on his feet.

CL: Maybe so but Detson looks outraged.  He is shouting First Gibson
left and now this crap.

FH: Detson is a superstar Chip.  He doesn't have to put up with this.

CL: And apparently he isn't.  However not before he is yelling in the
face of a young Caleb Foley fan.

[And Caleb Foley doesn't like that one bit!  The fiery Irishman leaps
through the ropes like a bullet from a gun.  Before Detson can even
blink and turn towards him he is nose-to-nose with the youngster and
FIST BEGIN TO FLY!]


*** KNOCK HIS HEAD OFF POP ***


FH: You can't treat Johnny Detson like that!

CL: Detson can't treat the Phoenix fans like that Fred.

[Some how Detson's head stays attach with the force and speed of those
punches by Caleb Foley.  Finally Detson tosses a thumb into the Celtic
Crippler's eye socket and blinds him.  This allows him a moment of
freedom and he uses it to leap over the side guard rails and into the
crowd.]

CL: Detson is trying to escape.

FH: Do you blame him?  Foley is assaulting him!  Where is the Phoenix
PD?

[Foley rubs the vision back into his eyes and notices Detson now with
PVW security helping him through the crowd ... And Foley leaps the
guard rail and follow suits!]


*** PHOENIX LOVES CALEB FOLEY POP ***


CL: Caleb Foley isn't letting Detson do a Gibson Hayes and escape!
Not tonight ... Not on the rebirth show!  Johnny Detson has to answer
for the things he has said about PVW!

[Meanwhile inside the ring some how ... some way Mark Barnett has
regained control.  Livestock is the legal man and so is Max.
Livestock with a DDT and hooks the leg trying to end this wild-west
shootout of a match.]


!!! ONE !!!


!!! TWO !!!


CL: No the match isn't over yet.  Max with a strong kick out.
Livestock isn't happy as he reaches back and tags in his partner.  The
tag team champions are now going to work on Max.

FH: And Sal can't do anything but look on.

[The PVW tag team champions pull Max up ... Max attempts to fight them
off but the two-on-one was just too much.  Sal begins to try and step
in to save his partner, but Mark Barnett isn't having any of it this
time.]

FH: It's about time you start doing your job ref!

CL: Zeke has that briefcase and he is getting on the ring apron.  This
isn't looking good at all for Max Weinrib!


*** THAT'S RIGHT POP ***


[Hersher von Donkerhardt may not of had Todd Johnstone at ring side
tonight, but Zeke more than made up!  HvD yanked the slimy manager off
and the briefcase is now in the Netherlands superstars hand as Zeke
holds his hands up shaking his head "no". HvD threatens to slam the
briefcase into the head of Zeke but instead he tosses the briefcase to
the side and grabs Livestock by the leg pulling him to the outside.
the crowd pops as HvD drills Livestock with a right hand and grabs
Livestock by the arm.]


"___CCCLLLAAANNNGGG___"


CL: And Livestock eats the ringsteps.

[Inside the ring Max catches the Gutch with a knee to the massive mid-
section.]

FH: It looks like Max is having a hard time removing his knee from the
Gutch's girth.

CL: And he follows up with up with an elbow to the head.

[Max grabs a hold of the arm of the Gutch as he reaches for a tag.
Gutch though pulls Max in and drills him with a short arm clothesline.
Gutch pulls Max to his feet and whips him hard into the corner.]

CL: Gutch gaining a head of steam!


"___TTTHHHUUUDDD___"


CL: And Gutch rams chest first into the corner!

FH: I think you mean stomach first.

CL: Either way Max moved out of the way and he's making his way to way
to the corner.

FH: And Gutch tags in Livestock as Max tags in HvD!

[Livestock fires in, but HvD with a back body drop.  Livestock right
back in, but just avoids a right hand from the outside by Sal ... But
backs right into an awaiting HvD for a German Suplex ... BRIDGE!]


!!! ONE !!!


!!! TWO !!!


"___THUUUUUUUD___"


*** HAHA POP ***


CL: The Gutch leaped to land and squash HvD, but he rolled off at the
last second and he just flattened his own partner.

FH: Poor Livestock!  No human can live through a Gutch squash!

CL: Lawyers don't die that easy Fred.

[Max and Sal are in and DOUBLE clothesline on The Gutch, but he
doesn't fall down.  They back away and another charge ... DOUBLE
dropkick and Gutch falls to the mat. Sal and Max force Gutch under the
bottom rope to as HvD grabs Livestock and whips him into the ropes.
HvD follows Livestock and catches him with a running kneelift.]

CL: Livestock down in the ring and the Gutch is struggling to get his
feet. Is it me or does he look like a turtle on his back?

FH: What? How dare you talk about half of the tag team champions that
way!

[Salih hooks Livestock in a camel clutch as Zeke steps onto the apron
screaming for Barnett to get either Max or Sal out of the ring. The
Gutch is too his feet but HvD drops down with a double ax handle
sending the beast crashing to the floor again. Max rebounds off of the
ropes catching Zeke with an elbow and sends him crashing into the
guardrail. Barnett drops down asking if Livestock wants to submit but
the tag champion screams no.]

CL: Max rushing forward and connects with a baseball slide dropkick to
the face of Livestock! They call that The Jimmy Carter blues!

FH: Come on Barnett they're cheating!


!!! ONE !!!


!!! TWO !!!


!!! THREE !!!


CL:And Max and Sal, HvD annd Caleb Foley pull out the big showcase win
tonight!

[The referee raises the three men's hands as Gutch and Livestock check
on Zeke who is still slumped upon the guardrail.]

FH: A travesty of justice! Barnett allowed them to manhandle an
innocent man and then double team the tag team champion.

[HvD has begun to march up the aisle way as max and Sal look at
Livestock and The Gutch and begin to motion that the titles will soon
be theirs. Suddenly the figures of Shadoe and Derek Rage hit the
ring.]

FH: The Prophets of Rage are here!

CL: And Max and Sal have no idea!

[Derek Rage steps over the top rope as Shadoe Rage ascends to the top
rope.]

CL: Massive Yakuza kick to sal and max is dropped by a flying
clothesline from Shadoe Rage!

FH: And the beauty is the two of them aren't done yet!

CL: This makes no sense at all! For months the Rage brothers acted as
if Max and Sal didn't exist ...

FH: The Rage brothers are the epitome of tag team wrestling and if
we're lucky tonight Max and Sal will be eliminated once and for all!

[Derek pulls Max to his feet; Shadoe and Derek crush his skull between
stereo superkicks.]


"___TTTHHHUUUDDD___"


FH: HAHAH! Max is down and out and look at Derek just stalking Sal.

CL: This can't be good. And look at Livestock and The Gutch just
laughing on the outside as Derek hoists Sal into the air for a
powerbomb ... and shadoe grabs Sal's shoulders spiking him into the
mat
with authority!

FH: They call that the Godkiller and Sal should be thankful that they
didn't drive him through a table like they normally do with that move.

[Shadoe Rage smiles at his handiwork as he surveys the carnage in the
ring.  His head slightly down, he glances up sinisterly at the crowd
as he stands on Sal's chest.]

SR: What kind of insult is this?  You think Max and Sal are the
logical number one contenders?  Let me explain something to you people
because you obviously don't understand!  When PVW was at its greatest
... the PROPHETS OF RAGE ... were the measuring stick.  Now that
Phoenix Valley has risen from the ashes, we're back to be the measure
of that greatness.  These two sacks of flesh aren't great.  These two
sacks of flesh aren't worth a good Goddamn.

[Rage spits in the face of the downed Sal.]

SR: That's what I think of them!  And that's what I think of anybody
who believes that the PVW tag titles belong around the waist of
anybody except us.  Talk to them, D.  Tell 'em what's up!

[Derek Rage steps on Max's chest as he saunters to take the microphone
from his older brother.]

DR: It's simple.  The Prophets of Rage are back and we're motivated.
Those two factors mean one thing.  There is no chance for these
pathetic comedy acts that overpopulate the PVW.  Ladies and gentlemen,
pay very close attention because we are coming to end careers and take
back what is rightfully ours, the PVW World Tag-Team titles.  We fired
the first shot.  Now wave the white flag.  WAVE IT!

[As the Prophets of Rage begin to leave the ring medical aid arrives
to check on Max and Sal who have slowly begun to stir.]

CL: It appears the Prophets of Rage returned to Phoenix with some
authority.  The former PVW Tag Team Champions sent a message to PVW's
hottest tag team who now has _two_ pinfalls over the current tag team
champions.  Does this officially make them the number one contenders
now?

FH: Not if Prophets of Rage has anything to say about it.

CL: Fans I have word that Gibson Hayes is in the back with something
to say .. .like he ever doesn't have something to say.

FH: Don't you talk about America's Hero like that!

CL: He sometimes reminds me of the guy from The Greatest American Hero
..

FH: Of course cause he's the Greatest!

CL: ummm ... yeah no.

[Cut to backstage. In front of a simple PVW backdrop, with nary a Chip
False Last Name in sight, is Gibson Hayes. Gibson is still in his
wrestling attire, though the American title is slung over his left
shoulder as it has been for over a year and a half. He is sweating and
looks like he is fresh from the ring. Evelyn Prosser, in his hooligan
gear, is holding the microphone as Gibson talks on the phone. Hayes
holds up a finger, telling the audience to wait as he finishes up his
conversation.]

You are on a need to know basis for this stuff and this wasn't
something you needed to know! *huff* That's stupid TJ, utterly stupid.
It's been how many months? No, no my mother was not a retarded half
zebra/half retarded Chinaman... is that even the right term? You know
what, never mind! I know, I know you're upset that he's out on... holy
cow I don't think that's physically possible. You want him gone, just
go with the easy, legal route. You want what? What? That's just du...
no, no, no need to do that, TJ. Why not press the... *holds phone away
from ear* Ker-ist... fine, fine. It's not as if he'll stand a chance
anyhow. Whatever...

[Taking the microphone from Evelyn, the audience hears a few screams
coming from the phone before Gibby turns it off and tosses it to EP.]

*snort* This isn't my fight or my all consuming crusade, but as God
and America as my witnesses, I will end this and I will end you.

[Deep breath.]

Herscher, you're already done. Herscher, you've had yourself hauled
into holding while the PVW brass, with their heads firmly planted up
their collective ass, haven't thrown you to the slobbering wolves.
You've been hounded by law dogs all across the bleak lands of Canada
all the way into the heart of the beautiful nation I swore to protect.
Is that enough? Should I be statisfied?

[A pity shake of the head.]

That isn't good enough, not in the slightest. Seeing you there,
standing across the ring from me, made me angry, reminded me that I
haven't ripped my pound of flesh out of your carcass. You still have
something left to lose and that bothers me.

[Staring into the camera, Gibson rubs his left hand over his face,
takes a deep breath, then sighs.]

So here is what we're going to do, Herscher. I've come through my
fights with oh so many with this American championship belt, because
everyone knows it will take an act of God to pry the American
championship from my grip. I could make you fight for your career, I
could make you grovel and hope that Johnstone has some compassion...

[Prosser snorts at this idea and Gibson smirks.]

...yeah, and Tom Landis's wife's legs haven't been spread more times
than cream cheese. Johnstone wants something, I like humiliating
people so you and I will have a little something ready for the next
*Ed Sullivan impression* rilly big sch-ow.

[Sniff.]

You and me, HVD, we're going to have one big ole tussle at Rise from
the Ashes. You and me, Herscher dear, we's gonna stand nose to nose,
face to face and you're going to bleed. You want me in the worst way
possible? To teach someone else a lesson? Well now, I think it is time
to make a cur like you smell his own mess. I'm going to smash you like
an overripe tomato and it is not because of anything personal on my
part. Oh no, I get to shatter your dreams as a perk. I love my life.
I, America's tried and true hero of the ages; I, America's demi-god
with minstrels clamoring to write songs about my exploits though they
know even their best hyberbole pales in comaprison to the truth of my
endeavors; I, the only true son of America and the man who has a back
so strong it can carry spongy, flesh crapsacks like you or Doc
Holliday on my back towards the golden ring of respectability; I,
America's only hope for a bright tomorrow and a better today, Gibson
Hayes, am going to spell what we are going to do at the big dance.

[Finger pointing to the camera.]

You.

[Thumb pointing back to Gibson.]

Me.

[A fist.]

Cage.

[One of the most devious smiles you'll ever see.]

My title vs. your career.

[That smug, condescending, confident and self-congratulating smile is
ear to ear.]

I am going to add your name to the long list of people I have run out
of this place. I know you Herscher. You won't cry like Detson. You
won't slobber over anyone who could give you a chance to fight on.
You'll scream and you'll shout but you'll go away... just like him.
You know who I am talking about. This time, unlike someone who let his
softer side get the better of him, I won't be satisfied with one knee.
I'm taking your livelihood. Your soul? That's for Todd - he wants a
new chew toy. Suck on that, Sparky.

[Hayes drops the microphone to the ground and walks off with Evelyn
flicking his right hand under his chin towards the camera.]

CL: Gibson Hayes not being out done by Doc Holliday and Alex Martinez
just up'd the anti in the PVW American Championship match at Rise From
the Ashes II.

FH: So you are telling me after Rise From the Ashes II we could be
sending HvD back to the Netherlands _and_ Doc Holliday back to
whatever hole he climbed out of?  THIS REALLY IS THE HOLIDAY SEASON!

CL: PVW may have been derailed for nearly six months, but right off
the back blockbuster announcement after blockbuster announcement.  We
still have the PVW World Championship match!

FH: And with any luck at all the reign of terror will be ended
tonight!

CL: The Widowmakers are gone! There is no terror.

FH: Maybe for you. But after tonight when Chase Williams becomes the
TWO time World Champion PVW will once again be the greatest in the
land.

[Rob Cole suddenly bursts through curtain there's no music to
accompany his entrance as he stalks down to the ring, circling to the
steps and stepping between the ropes to stare out at the roaring crowd
with the Heavyweight Title strapped around his waist. Dressed in jeans
and a teeshirt, the Champion has his hair pulled back in a top knot
and his eyes are hidden behind a pair of dark shades. He lifts a
microphone to his lips as he turns to regard the entrance and the
locker room lurking beyond.]

RC: What am I supposed to do? Rant, rave, and maybe throw down this
belt and dare you to cross the line? Here we go round the mulberry
bush, the monkey chased the weasel... and we don't even need to bother
with a tournament, a battle royal, or any of the usual nonsense. Rob
Cole and Chase Williams... for the Heavyweight Title, a chance to wash
up the filth and rinse it clean. We've done this thing before, and the
last time this went down I bled you out and sent you packing for
months on end... but you know what? Even after I did that, even after
I finally beat you for this strap even after all was said and done;
the rest of this company STILL didn't give me an ounce of respect.
They still wanted you to be wearing this belt, they begged me to act
like a bully and beat some folks... not something I had much of a
problem with at the time. You see, my head was in a real strange place
when I tore this strap from around your waist... I was feeling
unappreciated, I was feeling hurt, and I was basically whining about
the missed opportunities. I was little more than the same punk
arrogant piece of crap I always accused you of being. I did terrible
things, kiddo... you don't mind if I still call you ‘kiddo' do ya?

[Cole smirks and goes on without waiting for a response that may never
come.]

RC: I buried a man and I left him for dead, bully boy. I shut down
this company with the outrage and appeal from investors and I got us
knocked off broadcast television... dear lord, I put every single
performer, technician, and crewman on unemployment while I sat in a
Canadanese Jail Cell waiting for trial. I went through months of legal
proceedings, months of waiting and watching the seconds tick by. I had
nothing but my own sick thoughts to keep me busy... and I thought
about myself, my family, this business, this company, these fans,
and... I have to be honest here, I thought about you. I thought about
the way you wore this belt, the boys you'd beaten, and the example you
tried to set. No, Chase... it didn't set well with me at all. But then
you walked out in front of that camera and you called me... a coward?
I thought about what happened when you lost this belt... the way you
tucked your tail between your legs and begged some schlub to promote
your interests. I thought about the whole “religious” gimmick thing
you went on and on about. Chase... I thought about how you walked out
here in brand new wrapping, spic and span packaging, and I thought
about how utterly pathetic you were. You think you stood brave and
tall? You think you have a shred of dignity after that fiasco?

[Cole sneers and spits in disgust.]

RC: So when I copped the insanity plea, when I did my time, I thought
about whether or not I'd have a career to go back to... and I thought
about whether or not I'd have a chance to do something I should've
done years ago. Seconds ticking by, moment after moment, I sat and
listened to therapist present their little pet notions and
diagnoses... wow, some of them were real doozies. I'm not proud of
everything I've done... but I know who I am and I don't live in
delusion of what this all means. Not anymore.

[Cole reaches back, pulling the strap from around his waist. He holds
it for a moment and then looks down at the ring, cricking his neck
with a look of disgust in his eyes. He looks up at the audience after
a moment, and swallows hard.]

RC: I'm not the monster beneath your bed. I'm not some sort of child
hood fear. I'm not some catch phrase mythology or hardcore legend to
make you shake your boots. I'm a middle-aged brawler with a last
chance to be a decent human being. Let's be honest, kid... that's the
most dangerous thing you're ever going to face in this world. I've got
a roadmap of scar tissue trying to live up to some marketing scheme to
fit an unstable personality... I've got a son who looks up to me, a
wife who loves me, and I've won and lost my fair share of wars in this
miserable business. When kids like you started to come up, you found
inspiration in the pretend monsters like Rob Cole. I was fighting that
glass ceiling back in the mid-90's with barbed wire and broken tables,
weapons gashing open the body and an aftermath of stitching and ice
baths to soothe all those hurts. I fought a number of men... Kuwasi
Shakur, Retribution, Dr. Hate, Takeda, and a list that just goes on
and on. A lot of these guys are gone, kiddo. They don't work no more
and they don't have to... but they inspired boys like you. They FORGED
men like me.

I have to put you down, kiddo... I have to do it as the man I want to
be, not the monster or the demon or the catch-phrased lunatic psycho!
So you get your chance tonight... you get your chance to step into
the ring with Rob Cole, you get your chance to reopen this company
with the belt around your waist and the biggest bragging rights in
the world. We have loose ends to tie up, Chase. Yeah... it eats me up
inside.

[Cole watches the audience for a moment before making his way across
the ring and climbing the turnbuckles... he holds the title out toward
the back locker room. ]

RC: You think you're the first tough guy to walk down that aisle and
beat me? I ain't immortal and I ain't no Ring God Almighty... I've
been beaten, broken, damaged, and shattered. You think being the
monster is what makes me who I am?!?!! HUH?!?!?!!! It took me a long
time in that cell, by myself, to realize precisely what it was that
built the real damned legend in this sport. And it's the primary
difference between you and me, Chase... there is one thing you never
got, the one thing you never understood when these people kept
laughing at you in your silly little gimmick pants and watched you led
down the ring by some mouthpiece punk who couldn't lace a real
wrestlers boots! You've always been good at knocking people down...
you have all the credit in the world for that. You knocked me down,
you knocked the Fightin' Irish down, and everyone knows you tried to
knock down Hartt... but at the end of the night, when you were lying
in a puddle of your own blood and nursing your own injuries and you
found yourself knocked down there was a cold reality that smacked you
in the face. As much as you knock people down, you have never stood
up... after you lost the belt, people didn't see you or hear from you
while you nursed your little boo boo. I have lost over and over
again... and I keep getting UP!!!

I KEEP STANDING!!!!

I KEEP FIGHTING!!!!

[Rob Cole, the World Champion, tosses the title back behind him and
laughs maniacally... an eager gleam in his eye as he stares up the
aisle.]

RC: CHASE WILLIAMS!!!! I am THE World Heavyweight Champion... I have
BEATEN the monster beneath my own bed, I have faced the Fear I left
far behind, and I have RISEN FROM THE ASHES!!!!

PHOENIX VALLEY IS BACK!!!!

[CUE THE DRUMS!!!! The Guitars kick in quickly and "Rumatahatta"
begins to blare over the loudspeakers as the crowd roars to their
feet. Rob Cole stares up the aisle, breathing hungrily as he eyes the
curtain and licks his chops.]

CL: Rob Cole ... The PVW World Champion is ready to rage war!

FH: Well he seems to be saying the right things.  Let's see if he is
all hot air.

[Herk Douglas stands inside the ring where he is already  joined by
the PVW World Heavyweight Champion.]

HD: It's time for our Main Event of the evening.  It will be for the
PVW World Heavyweight Championship.

*** POP ***

... Introducing first standing inside the ring.  From Hudson Valley,
New York.  He is the PVW World Heavyweight Champion...

ROB COLE !!!

[Fans continue to cheer giving the PVW World Heavyweight Champion ...
The man who has stood toe-to-toe with the best this industry has to
offer.  The man who has now been credited with chasing off the
Widowmakers and Rick Marley ...]

HD: The challengr ...

[The pounding bass of "Heavy Metal Kings" By Jedi Mind tricks rocks
the arena, and the rampway begins to fill with smoke.]

HD: From Beverly Hills, California.  He is the former PVW Heavyweight
Champion ...

[A figure appears atop the entryway, his shadow looming behind a
shroud of smoke. He emerges, standing smugly at the edge of the ramp,
arms crossed. Chase Williams regards the crowd with a disgust he does
not try in the slightest to hide as he takes the first few steps down
the ramp.]

HD: The Conceited Bastard ... CHASE WILLIAMS

[Chase shadows a few punches as he ascends the rampway, focusing
solely on the ring. He reaches ringside and climbs the stairs,
stepping over the top rope. He circles the ring and finally turns
towards the champion with a look that can only be described as utterly
hateful.]

CL: Look at Chase Williams there is no love loss between these two.

FH: Would you want to share space with the guy who stabbed you with a
rail road spike?

CL: Not particularly.

FH: Then you have answered your own question.

[Both men are now inside the ring.]

CL: Look at Chase Williams he is almost drooling he wants that title
back so bad.

FH: I've been there before Chip.  When you have been a champion you
eat-sleep-crap the life of a champion.  Chase Williams was not only
the PVW Heavyweight Champion... He was the _FIRST_.  He main evented
the first three PVW PPV's.

[PVW Head official Duke Martin holds the PVW World Heavyweight
Championship.  He walks it over to Chase Williams and shows it to him
and then back to the center of the ring where he raises it high in the
air as the fans roar...]

************************************************************
************************************************************
** Phoenix Valley Wrestling - Tag Team Action -           **
** PVW World Championship -                               **
** Chase Williams v. Rob Cole [c]                         **
************************************************************
************************************************************

}

CL: And there is the bell!  Another PVW World Heavyweight Championship
title match will be in the books.

FH: And Chase Williams is involved yet again.  Think back from the
start of PVW.  Has there been a guy involved in more title matches
then Chase Williams?

CL: No I don't think there has.

[The PVW World Heavyweight Champion stands looking across the former
PVW Heavyweight Champion.  Their eyes locked ...  Referee Duke Martin
circling around giving the two icons room to clash.]

FH: You can feel the tension Chip.  Rick Marley may have abandoned his
shot at Rob Cole, but Chase Williams is hungry and ready to strike.

CL: You don't get many golden opportunities like this Fred.

FH: And Williams is getting one more at bat tonight! Someone needs to
kill the monster once and for all and the question is can Williams
finally regain the glory he once held in PVW!

[Chase Williams steps forward towards Cole and stares the monster in
the eyes. Cole smirks menacingly as he looks at Williams. Chase
extends his hand for a hand shake and Cole begins to chuckle.]

CL: Cole knows damn well that Williams doesn't have an ounce of
respect for anyone here and that handshake offer is nothing more than
a ploy.

[Williams pulls the hand back and nods before he fires a right hand
into the forehead of Cole who absorbs the shot and takes a second
right hand. Cole staggers back a step and Williams follows up by
shoving the champion into the ropes, as Cole rebounds off Williams
tattoos Cole in between the eyes with another right hand. Cole drops
to a knee and glares up at Williams who begins to scream at him.]

FH: Williams telling Cole to just lie down before he gets hurt here
tonight!

[Cole responds by firing a right hand into the mid-section of the gut
and Williams drops an elbow to the head of Cole and quickly grabs him
by his hair and pulls the champion to his feet.]

CL: Williams with an Irish Whip and he follows Cole ...

[As Cole rebounds off of the ropes Williams leaps and drives his knee
into the chin of Rob Cole sending the champion crashing to the mat.
Rob Cole rolls to his knees as Chase Williams runs his hand through
his hair with a smirk on his face. Williams follows up with a knee to
the side of Cole's head sprawling the champion out on the mat again.]

FH: Williams to his feet and Cole's head bounces off of the mat as
Williams stomps him.

“___THUUUMP___”


“___THUUUMP___”


“___THUUUMP___”


CL: Check out the impact of those stomps on Rob Cole.  There is no
love loss between these two men Fred.

FH: Let's be frank here Chip.  Who in their right mind _likes_ Rob
Cole?  I bet his wife and son can't even stand the nut-job.

CL: That was totally uncalled for Fred!

FH: And true.

[Williams raises Cole to his feet and lifts him into an inverted side-
walk slam position ... He twirls around sideways and falls down with
all his weight on the PVW World Champion smashing his face first body
into the mat.]

CL: And the former champion isn't done!  He is shoving and grinding
Cole's face into the mat.  Chase drops down and locks on a Camel
Clutch!

FH: And Chase Williams is continuing to remind us that he was once the
crown jewel of Phoenix.

[After a little over a minute the challenger hops off and as Cole
finishes pushing himself to his feet he is taken right back down by a
charging mafia kick!]

!!! ONE !!!



!!! TWO !!!



CL: Strong kickout by Cole!

FH: If things continue like this tonight we will crown a second new
champion.

[Williams lifts Cole up and begins to hook him into a suplex, but the
champion blocks it!  Chase goes to lift him up a second time ...  The
champion blocks it again and this time brings the Conceited Bastard
with him up and over with a suplex of his own!]


*** COUNTER POP ***


CL: Don't count Rob Cole out yet!  Both men to their feet and Chase
charges in ... NO the champion with cat-like reflexes ducks under and
hits the ropes ...

FH: Chase catches him ... Tilt-a-whirl!


“___CRAAAACK___”


[... massive backbreaker by Chase Williams as he holds Rob Cole across
his knee to add the extra effect on that mid back.]

CL: Chase drops down and makes another cover.

!!! ONE !!!



!!! TWO !!!



... Another kick out by the champion.

FH: Chase Williams knows it will take more then this to pin Cole's
shoulders to the mat.  However he is sending a message and crushing
the confidence of the champion at the same time.

[Williams pulls Cole to his feet.  With a smirk across his face he
pulls him forward and begins to set him up for a powerbomb right in
the center of the ring.  Instead the champion lifts him backwards and
up-and-over with a back body drop!]

CL: Cole isn't giving up!

FH: And neither is Chase.

CL: Both men back up.  Cole scoops Williams up and takes him down with
a slam!

[And Williams is right back up reaching back to hold the lower part of
his back only briefly.  He goes in for a big right that is blocked.
Cole unloads a big right of his own.  Follows up with a second ...
third ... fourth ....]

CL: The champion is rocking Chase Williams now.  It feels like Boiling
Point all over again!

FH: Except the rail road spike and the mounds of blood.

[Cole backs up and charges with a huge clothesline that sends Williams
backwards slumping into the corner of the ring.  Cole's eyes wide now
and shaking the cob-webs turns and charges and leaps in mid-air .....]


*** SQUASH THAT SOB POP ***


CL: Cole starting to ramp it back up.  Cole isn't giving Williams any
breathing room in that corner he is climbing up the turnbuckles and he
is raising that fist!

FH: Come on Duke do your job!

[And the fans love it!  Cole drives that fist down not even slowing
down for the fans count as they attempt to keep up with it.  However
they realize that he isn't stopping at ten... or twenty!?!]

CL: Cole is unleashing a fury with those bare knuckles!

FH: And finally Duke decides to do his job.

[Referee Duke Martin pulls Rob Cole down as Chase Williams has nothing
to do but stumble out of the corner do a little twirl and plant
himself face first into the mat as the fans continue to roar!]


BOBBY COLE !!!

BOBBY COLE !!!

BOBBY COLE !!!


CL: A Bobboy Cole chant ... Shades of PVW's missed Outlaw right here.

FH: Who misses him?  I for one have slept like a baby since that whack
job joined the unemployed line.

[Rob Cole pulls Chase Williams back to his feet.  Above Williams right
eye has been busted open from those shots in the corner.  Cole sends
him across into the ropes and as he comes across the champion catches
him into a powerslam!]

!!! ONE !!!



!!! TWO !!!


FH: This time Chase Williams shoots a shoulder up.

CL: We joked around earlier saying things were looking a-bit like
Boiling Point when in reality things are quite the opposite.  Both men
showing that they are still two of the best wrestlers inside the ring
and don't have to resort to underhanded tactics.

FH: Speak for yourself there Chip.  Look at Chase's right eye.

CL: Hey as you have said many times before.  Sometimes bumps and
bruises happens in the heat of battle.  Cole pulling up the dazed and
confused challenger.  SWINGING NECKBREAKER!  Now Cole is starting to
return some of that earlier punishment.

[Rob Cole is on his feet and he is calling for the Castout Powerbomb.
He is waving for Chase to get up and take it like a man ...  Williams
begins to pull himself up and as Cole goes in to grab him the
Conceited Bastard's arm shoots up right between the champion's legs
and crushes the monster underneath the bed's family jewel's.]


*** GROOOOANNNNNN ***


FH: Well that's a way to slow down the pace.

CL: And just when we were raving that this has been a true wrestling
match.  Chase Williams has to go and do something like this.

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

[Duke Martin is right in Chase William's ear threatening to throw this
match out.  Chase Williams totally blows the PVW head official off and
stumbles back to the ropes wiping the blood from his eye.]

CL: Usually doing that _right_ infront of the PVW referee will get you
disqualified.  However being our first Main Event back it appears some
leeway has been made.

FH: Be a champion... Shake it off Cole!


“___THUUUUUUD___”


CL: Chase Williams takes Cole down with a DDT.

[Chase Williams leans over Rob Cole on his knees now screaming -
“THAT'S MY BELT YOU PIECE OF TRASH!  YOU NEVER _BEAT_ ME FOR IT AND I
AM TAKING WHAT'S MINE BACK!”  He then drops down and hooks the leg.]

!!! ONE !!!



!!! TWO !!!


CL: _Again_ Rob Cole kicks out.  You can say a lot of things about Rob
Cole Fred, but one thing that you can never say is that it's easy
pinning Rob Cole.

FH: Just makes taking his title all the better.

[Chase Williams grabs the right arm of Cole in frustration.  He begins
to go into a rolling armbar.  The move he won the PVW Heavyweight
title with he calls End Game - but the Champion well prepared for his
opponent rolls with it and the two men are back face-to-face.  Cole
ducks under a big right and picks him up and drops him down on his
knee with a big inverted atomic drop.  Williams bends over in pain and
this leads to a double-underhook ... suplex!]

CL: Close call for the Champion.  Once Chase Williams gets that End
Game locked in.  It really is an End Game.

FH: Just ask Caleb Foley.

CL: Rob Cole always a student of the game.  For as crazy as some say
that the Champion is.  He always comes to the ring well prepared and
ready to do whatever it takes.

FH: Oh yeah a real student of the game.  When I think of students of
the game ...  Perry Fontana ... Gibson Hayes ... Rick Marley comes to
mind.

CL: Why am I not surprised.  The crowd now getting behind the
champion.  As he pulls him to his feet.  That wound above Chase really
gashed open now.  He is going to need a few stitches after tonight's
match.

FH: Just another battle scar in William's new “Chase for the Gold”.
Rob Cole is like PVW's version of Bret Farve.  Everywhere you turn
it's all about Rob Cole and what he is accomplishing this time.  It's
getting old.  All we need now is Cole to walk out and wrestle in a
pair of wranglers.  Drop the belt already!

CL: Rob Cole grabs the right leg of Chase Williams and turns him
towards the center of the ring and places on a figure four leg lock!


*** OLD SCHOOL SUBMISSION POP ***


FH: I didn't even know Rob Cole knew what a figure four leg lock was!

[Cole drops to his back wrenching the knees of Williams as he does so.
Williams let's out a monstrous scream as Duke drops down and begins to
ask Williams if he gives. The challenger shakes his head no as he
pushes himself up to stare at the champion who just screams as well.]

FH: Wait why is Cole screaming ... scratch that he's insane he doesn't
need a reason to be screaming like a beast.

[Cole continues to wrench the figure four but Williams sit up once
again and begins to slowly roll to his side.]

CL: Chase Williams looking to reverse the figure four!

FH: And now Cole has a legitimate reason to scream as the pressure of
the hold is slowly being applied to his own knees. Come on Williams
TURN IT!

[Cole lets forth a massive scream as he tries to fight Williams'
attempt to turn over the figure four. And he does as Williams drops to
his back and screams once again. Duke drops down and checks Williams
shoulders ...]


!!! ONE !!!!


[Williams quickly sits up and once once again begins to fight the
figure four. The crowd roaring for Cole to keep the hold locked in as
Williams fights ...]

FH: YES! WILLIAMS TURNED IT!

[The crowd boos as the challenger turns over the figure four. And now
Cole continues to bellow as Williams is now in control. Cole quickly
unhooks his legs to relieve the pressure of the hold and both men
slowly push their way to their feet. Williams steps back to the ropes
as he grabs his knee in pain, Cole slowly turns around to face
Williams who quickly bounces off of the ropes.]

CL: Williams trying to decapitate Cole here with a clothesline ...

[Rob Cole though ducks the clothesline and snatches a waistlock... he
pops his hips and DRIVES Chase Williams up and over with a German
Suplex! The crowd roars as Cole slides in front of Williams and rolls
to his feet, cinching a front chancery as he hooks Williams up! SNAP
SUPLEX!!!]

CL: Rob Cole with some chained wrestling maneuvers, but it looks like
Williams is already rolling to his feet with one hand bracing his
head... GOOD LORD!!!!

[The crowd is stunned as Cole just hauls off and slaps Williams across
the face! The stunned big man staggers back a step and Rob Cole
suddenly hauls of with a double leg scoop... and unceremoniously DUMPS
Williams over the top rope to the floor below!]

FH: Cole doesn't care a damn about the welfare of his opponent!

CL: Cole usually doesn't care about his own body either! The champions
is on the ring apron ...

[Cole leaps off of the apron and catches Williams with a double axe
handle driving Williams back to the floor. Cole smirks as he grabs
Williams by the head and connects with a stiff right hand onto the
already bloodied forehead of Williams. Cole drives a second and a
third right hand into the Chase's skull and raises his now blood
covered hand into the air as the fans cheer wildly.]

FH: These people are sick just sick!

[Rob Cole climbs onto the ring apron and walks towards the corner post
as Chase Williams grabs the apron pulling himself to his feet. He
staggers back a few steps as he tries to wipe the blood from his
eyes.]

FH: Wait what is Cole doing?!?

[Rob Cole runs across the apron and launches himself into the air ...]


“___TTTHHHUUUDDD___”


CL: A sicking thud as Cole crashes down on Chase Williams with one of
the ugliest somersault sentons I have ever seen!

[Rob Cole rolls off of Chase Williams and holds his back in pain for a
few moments before dragging himself to his feet. He grabs the
challenger by his hair dragging him towards the ring steps.]

CL: This can't bode for Williams as Cole drives an elbow into
Williams' head!

[Williams absorbs the elbow shot and catches Cole in the mid-section
with right hand giving him a moment to get to his feet. Williams drive
his thumb into the Cole and quickly follows up with a knee to the gut
doubling Cole over.]

CL: Williams grabs Cole in a front chancery. I think he might be
looking for a DDT on the floor here ...

[Cole fires a few elbows to the ribs of Williams' forcing him to
loosen the chancery and Cole shoves Williams back. Chase though rushes
forward with a sudden burst of speed and levels the champion with a
vicious lariat.]

FH: And Chase is right back in this match!

[As Cole struggles to get back to his feet Williams drives his knee
into the side of the head dropping Cole back to the concrete floor.
Williams climbs the ring steps and looks down at the fallen champion
for a moment.]


“___TTTHHHUUUDDD___”


[The crowd gasps as Williams leaps off of the ring steps and drives
his knee into the side of Cole's head.]

FH: GOOD LORD! Williams pulling out all the stops here tonight!

[Williams though rolls off of Cole in obvious pain as he grabs his
knee from the impact.]

CL: He maybe pulling out all the stops to regain the championship that
he believes still belongs to him but that was the same knee that Cole
weakened with the figure four and you can see Williams is paying for
the knee drop as well!

FH: Chase Williams is getting to his feet as the champion is lying in
a pool of his own blood on the floor!

[Cole slowly pushes himself to his knees and wipes his hand across his
forehead spreading the blood into his hair. Williams rushes forward
and drives the point of his knee into Cole's skull cause the champions
head to bounce off of the ring steps.]


“___CCCLLLAAANNNGGG___”


[As Williams grabs his knee again he begins to scream at Williams to
get this match back into the ring or he's tossing it out. Williams
grabs Cole and rolls the champion under the bottom rope into the
ring.]

CL: The Conceited Bastard taking his time as he makes his way back
into the ring.

FH: Look at the sinister grin across the face of our former champion.

[Chase Williams takes a few quick steps and leaps in the air with a
high leaping knee drop ... right across the exposed head of Rob Cole.]

CL: GOOD LORD!  Chase Williams is just brutalizing the skull of Rob
Cole!

FH: I know isn't it great!

CL: Chase Williams hooks the leg again.  It could be over!

FH: New champion time!


!!! ONE !!!



!!! TWO !!!


[Roaring pop as Rob Cole shoots a shoulder up as Chase Williams eyes
widen. Williams grabs Cole by the hair and just bounces the back of
Cole's skull off of the canvas.]

FH: Look at Chase Williams.  This is statement time right here.  This
is where real champions are made of.

CL: Williams pulling Cole up once more.

[Williams slaps the taste out of Cole's mouth as he screams you're
finished boy! Chase rushes to the ropes with a noticeable limp, and
rebounds off of the ropes catching the champion with a stiff roaring
elbow.]

CL: And Williams nailing Cole with Revelations!

FH: Yeah now if Cole will have a revelation that he's washed up and
leave the PVW!

[Cole collapses in a heap and the Conceited Bastard extends his arms
to the side flaunting for the fans. Chase walks over to Cole and kicks
him in the ribs once and a second time screaming for Cole to get to
his feet. Chase paint brushes the side of the champions head and pulls
him once more to his feet. Chase begins to Irish whip ...]

CL: Rob Cole reverses the Irish whip!

[Irish whip sends Williams rocketing into the corner as Rob Cole comes
charging from behind... and DRIVES in with a body splash! He drops
down to one knee and DRIVES a series of shoulders into the midsection
before lifting Chase to the seated position and follows him up... ]

CL: Classic Cole here as he prepares for the superplex...

FH: Of course it's classic he's what 67 years old?

[Williams sees it coming and nails the Champion in the stomach... Cole
response with an elbow to the top of the skull... another... he
suddenly just grabs the head with both hands and jumps from the top
rope to the OUTSIDE OF THE RING!!!!]

*HUGE POP!!!!*

[“You've still got it!” chants begin to echo through the arena as Rob
Cole lies prone next to the guardrail! Chase Williams lies beside him,
completely still after the impact to the guardrail. Blood continues to
pour out of Williams forehead as Rob Cole tries to shake the stiffness
from his own wrist. A free fall dive in order to drag Williams into
the guardrail below hasn't done much for the health of the Champion,
but Chase Williams lies prone outside of the ring.]
FH: He's just trying to kill Chase Williams! He should be thrown out
of the PVW forever!

CL: Nice to see you care for Williams welfare than your broadcast
partner's!

[Cole shakes the cobwebs from his head and grabs Chase Williams and
slowly rolls him under the bottom rope into the ring.

FH: Look at him! Williams is like dead weight ... he needs medical
attention stop the match Duke!

CL: Rob Cole climbing to the top ropes setting up for the Worlds
Ugliest Frog Splash.

[As Cole ascends to the top rope Chase miraculously moves his head
trying to make sense of his surroundings as Duke makes sure he isn't
seriously injured.]

FH: Come on Chase!  You had this thing don't start losing now!

[Williams still just barely moving.]


*** WTF HEEL TEAR DOWN THE ROOF OH GO TO HELL POP ***


CL: What the hell!?!

FH: OH MY LORD!

[Rick Marley comes tearing out of the back in street clothes at
100mph. Rob Cole now reaching the top and perched on as he is zoning
in on his victim.]

CL: What is Rick Marley doing down here?  He isn't even with the PVW
anymore.

FH: Or is he?

[Cole not even notcing the snake - Rick Marley shoves Cole's right
leg, dropping him crotch first on the metal support in the corner...]


*** BLEEP NOOOO BOOOOOOOOO'S ***


CL: This is a travesty!

FH: Rick Marley now grabbing the steel chair that Herk Douglas was
sitting on ringside!

[Duke Martin is trying to save this match telling Rick Marley to get
out of here.  Marley isn't listening and leaps back to the side of the
ring apron not letting any time pass ... And swings the chair like a
baseball bat right at the exposed left side of the Champions skull!]


"___CRRRRAAAAAAAACCCCCKKKKK___"


*** SHOCKING SILENCE ***


 }


CL: Duke Martin is calling for the bell!

FH: And Rob Cole is slumping and now falling to the cement floor.

[Rick Marley steps between the ropes with the half dented chair in
hand.  He is pointing at Duke Martin who has now stopped laying into
the former Widowmaker captain.]

CL: What is Rick Marley going to do hit Duke Martin now!?!?!

FH: He should... I am so sick of hearing that Voice!

[Chase Williams has now pushed himself up and is looking around.  A
look of disgust as he just realized the match has been tossed out as
he turns towards Rick Marley ...  When out of nowhere Marley turns
with full motion in a circle swinging the chair upside the unexpecting
Chase Williams skull!]


"___CRRRRAAAAAAAACCCCCKKKKK___"


[The crowd is still stunned silent.  Nobody expected to see Rick
Marley here.  And nobody expected him to come mangle a chair into the
side of the former and current PVW Heavyweight Champions skull.]

CL: Folks ... I ... I don't know what to say.

FH: I do ... You mess with the snake and you'll eventually get bit!

[Marley looks down at both of his fallen foe's with a pissed off look
on his face, makes eye contact with the official again, and then
leaves without saying anything ...]

CL:  I am really a loss of words.  We opened the night assuming that
Rick Marley was retired.  Nobody had heard from the former Widowmaker
Captain.  And here he is showing up in our Main Event.

FH:  Showing up with a force Chip!  You can't screw Rick Marley out of
what is his.  Mr. Called shot made it clear that the PVW World
Championship was his.

CL: But he isn't APART of the PVW as far as we know.

FH: I think that last statement said - I am back bitches.

[And with those words from Fred Hoyle the camera catches Rick Marley
turning around near the entrance way one last time to look at the PVW
ring.  He soaks up the carnage that he brought and then turns and
disappears as we fade to black.]