[We open up to a ring.  It's a smallish ring, in a small venue.  Looks
like an indy show in a high school gym.  Or rather, the aftermath of
one.  The seats are empty, the place is messy, and the young wrestlers
struggling to catch a break are cleaning up.

Standing in the ring is an older wrestler, who made his break many
years ago.  Doc Holliday is here, clad in his ring attire: full
length-black trunks with gold outlines of gambling paraphenalia,
wristbands, and gold-and black boots.  His wavy light-brown hair is a
bit damp with sweat, as he has just worked a match as a favor to the
promoter, an old friend of his.  At his feet is a cardboard box.]

Doc Holliday: Gibson Hayes, it comes high time fer you ta un'nerstand
a few thangs.Ya started in this heah business same way as me.  Same
way as ever'body.  In places like this heah.  High school gyms, bingo
halls, clubs, anyplace they kin set a ring fer cheap an' sell a
hun'nerd tickets.  Ya looked aroun' an' saw a locker room... though
most times ya didn't even have onea them... fulla' nameless, faceless
folk tryin' ta git th' same thang you was reachin' fer.  An' ya nevah
un'nerstood how fleeting thet chance was.  Nevah knew th' odds, did
ya?  Any sane man whut knew th' odds o' makin' it in this business
either stays home, or has no real op-shins, or jes' plain don' keer.

[Doc points around him at the young men cleaning up.  Some are
working, others have stopped to watch.]

DH: They's a dozen kids in this room, an' at best one of 'em will even
git a sniff. They's kids in this room with more raw talent than halfa'
any roster inna big leagues, but they won't nevah git a chance.  You?
Ya got lucky, Gibson.  Ya had a name they knew about an' a mouth thet
drew 'em in.  So do half these kids, so did th' ones ya came up with.
But th' lottery fell on you, same as it did me, same as it did
ever'one on this roster.  From Craven ta Marley ta Cole ta Dark Soul
ta th' Prophets ta th' Legacy ta Landis... all of 'em.  Even th'
Masked Maniac.  All of us got a lucky break.  It all starts with luck.

[And just like that, the scene changes.  We're no longer at the small
gym, we're now in a big arena, after a PVW card.  Doc's still in his
ring attire, still has his box, still looks like he's had a match
recently... though there are telltale signs that this portion of the
promo was filmed at a different time.]

DH: But then ya hadda do somethin' with it.  An' so far, ya done good.
Got a smart manager whut knows th' business, real smart move.  Ah had
one too many a year ago, an' ah'd'a nevah got heah without him.  Ya
cruised under th' radar, ran yer mouth, an' stole crumbs from under
th' noses of th' big boys.  Same as we all done at some point.  Ya
moved from luck ta opportunism.  Inna right place at th' right time,
an' ya made it happen; kinda like a cross between luck an' skill.

But thet's whar it ends, Gibson.  Yer at th' point whar luck makes its
exit.  Yer inna Main Event, boy.  Before Tradition, ya could do
howevah ya wan'ned on account of all th' fans came in ta see th' big
boys.  Cole.  Craven.  Williams.  Marley.  Me.  As fer you, ya was an
amusin' segment onna undercard.  People looked forward ta seein' ya
run yer mouth an' git it busted, but they didn't pay they money ta see
ya fight.  But now?

All these people in all these seats... these WALLETS, ta put it how ya
was taught... they paid down ta see if Gibson Hayes can go.

Not talk.  Not git beat up.  Not dress up Ilya an' play grab-ass with
'im.  We seen all thet already.  But we ain't seen ya _GO_.

Doc Holliday has been goin' fer many a long year, Gibson Hayes.  Ah've
sold out more arenas than you've even seen.  Ah still got th'
attendance record for wrasslin' in New York, Tokyo, an' Las Vegas.
Mah name is synonomous with great shows, Gibson. Yer name, so far, is
synonomous with comedy routines an' stolen wins.  But you cain't steal
a win from Doc Holliday.  Ah invented mo' dirty tricks than you know.
Johnstone'll probably end up in a pool of his own blood in th' second
minute; ah have absolutely no compunction about it, an' he oughta know
it.  If'n them dang fool doctors show up, ah'll revoke they goddamn
breathing license.  If th' Spectre shows up, ah'll pull his mask offa
his face an' his face offa his skull.  Ya wanna see Zero Tolerance?
Step in between Doc Holliday an' whut he wants.  What PVW tolerates
is th' least of yer concerns; Doc Holliday's intolerance gits people
crippled up.

But not you, Gibson.  Ah ain't come ta Chicago ta do nothin' but beat
ya.  Yer gol' belt means so much ta you, but ta me?

[Holliday reaches down into that box, and pulls out several gold
belts.  His arms are filled with championship belts as he goes on.]

DH: Ta me it's anothah line on mah resume.  Ah want yer belt on
account of th' payin' customers who come ta see me fight wanna see me
take yer belt.  When th' people put down cash money, Doc Holliday
delivers.

Does Gibson Hayes?

[Doc starts shouldering his titles as he speaks, addressing each one
in turn.]

DH: Ah pinned Marcus Manson fer this one.  Ah beat Shawn Harrison,
Kyle Kamikaze, Johnathan Witt, and VD Vitrone in a ladder match fer
this one.  Ah beat Trixxster fer this one.  Ah pinned Alex Extreme fer
this one.  Ah pinned Vic Valiant fer this one.  Ah pinned Erik
Grimmson fer this one.  Some o' them names?  Men accustomed ta
success, fame, an' main events, on account of they kin perform when
th' big lights come up.  Them othahs?  Candles in th' wind, long since
blown out.  But ever' one of 'em was whar you is, Gibson.  Th' list of
wrasslers thet made it to thet one last step... thet last step between
makin' a livin' underneath an' makin' a legend up top.

Th' biggest step a man kin evah take.  An' you don't usually git a
second chance ta take it.  This is it, Gibson.  You fail now, you
gonna be an afterthought yer whole career.  It ain't even about
winnin' an' losin'.  All ah ask ya ta do is keep up.  KEEP UP.  You
ain't defendin' a title, boy.  You ain't defendin' nothin', on account
of you ain't GOT nothin' on Doc Holliday.  Yer th' challenger, boy.
Yer tryin' ta win somethin' more than a belt.  Yer tryin' ta win a
spot at th' table.  Until now, ya been runnin' underneath th' notice
of th' big boys... but now ya gotta put them big boy pants on yerself.

If ya use some trick ta run outta Chicago with yer belt lak ya been
doin', guess whut?  You _lost_.  Doc Holliday goes on, still a big
star, still drawin' money all ovah th' worl', an' yer still an
undercard amusement, wavin' flags an' talkin' fool, gittin' paid
peanuts.  Eventually yer luck runs dry, someone gits a pin on ya, an'
thet's th' end o' Gibson Hayes.  Ah couldn't give a whit.  Ah'm
tellin' ya this because ah don' settle fer peanuts.  Ah'm drawin'
twenny-thousand plus ta Chicago an' many more on th' tube, an' ah will
settle fer nothin' less than givin' 'em a show.  Th' best show of they
lives, Gibson.  This is mah passion in life, boy.  It's why ah'm
takin' time aside from huntin' Marley.  It's why ah'm takin' time
aside from dealin' with Feyr.  PVW put my name onna marquee an' asked
me ta pull 'em in, an' damned if ah won't.

You?  Yer name is onna marquee too, boy.  If you don't give them folks
ever'thang you got, ever'thang you are, an' ever'thang they want, then
Tyrone Hayes taught you nothin', an' you aint worth th' aglets on his
boots.  If you do, boy?  Then, an' only then, ah'll stop callin' ya
boy, an' call ya a man.  Win, lose, or draw.  On account of a man
takes keer of his obliga-shins.  An' ya know how many obliga-shins
you got at Tradition?

[And the scene changes again.  Dramatically.

Doc Holliday is now live in the center of the ring, with the packed
house in the Allstate Arena standing and cheering.  They've seen the
prior bits of this promo on the screen, and they now are making the
noise of twenty-five thousand people happy to be live on PVW TV.  Doc
is still in his ring attire, still has his old championships, but now
doesn't have the sweat of having just wrestled... for obvious reasons.

Live Doc continues where pre-recorded Doc left off... by slowly
sweeping his hand, index finger extended, pointing at the fans in
attendance.]

DH: Twen'ny-five thousand of 'em, Gibson.  Ya talked 'em inta th'
building.  Tyrone taught ya well.  Ya got verbal gifts, boy.  They's
wrasslers inna Hall Of Fame thet wish they could talk it lak you kin.
But now you gotta face th' biggest ques-chin of yer life, boy.

Ya talked 'em inta comin'... now whutcha gonna do with 'em?

[The fans, always energized about being the topic of conversation,
happily provide a chant to express their opinion on the matter:

"GIB-SON-SUCKS!  GIB-SON-SUCKS!  GIB-SON-SUCKS!  GIB-SON-SUCKS!  GIB-
SON-SUCKS!  GIB-SON-SUCKS!  GIB-SON-SUCKS!"

Holliday takes a pause, to let the crowd get their point across.  Then
he continues, addressing the fans in attendance directly.]

DH: We gonna find out, ain't we?

[They continue:

"GIB-SON-SUCKS!  GIB-SON-SUCKS!  GIB-SON-SUCKS!  GIB-SON-SUCKS!  GIB-
SON-SUCKS! GIB-SON-SUCKS!  GIB-SON-SUCKS!"]

DH: Hear thet, Gibson?  Thet's twen'ny-five thousand wallets who ain't
sure if they wanna spend money on ya.  They came ta see Doc Holliday.
An' you got one chance... ONE CHANCE... ta make a name thet has 'em
wantin' ta see Gibson Hayes too.  Yer gol' belt whut means so much to
ya won't mean nothin' in five years.  It'll be jes' lak these heah.

[One by one, Holliday drops his old title belts back into the
cardboard box, punctuating his point with a word for each one as he
goes.]

DH: Memories.  Relics.  Bygones.  Statistics.  Irrelevant.  Useless.

But th' name ah made fer mahself winnin' 'em an' defendin' 'em?
PRICELESS.

So, whut's it gonna be, Gibson?  Stay undah th' table pickin' scraps,
or be a man an' take a seat at th' table yerself?  It's all in yer
hands.

No pressure.  It's only yer entire career.

[Holliday smirks at that statement, as the camera pans back to get a
view of the crowd.  Doc heads off, as we fade to the
PVW logo appears over a black background ...]


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



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


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



[It's replaced with ...]


  ______               ___ __  _                ____________
 /_  __/________ _____/ (_) /_(_)___  ____     /  _/  _/  _/
  / / / ___/ __ `/ __  / / __/ / __ \/ __ \    / / / / / /
 / / / /  / /_/ / /_/ / / /_/ / /_/ / / / /  _/ /_/ /_/ /
/_/ /_/   \__,_/\__,_/_/\__/_/\____/_/ /_/  /___/___/___/




[No music ... No flashy openings today we fade right into the Allstate
Arena - Chicago, Illinois.  Red, white, and blue fire works blast in
honor of Tradition ...





"__FAAASSSHHHOOOOM~!__"




"__KAAAABBBOOOOOOM~!__"




"__FAAASSSHHHOOOOM~!__"




"__KAAAABBBOOOOOOM~!__"




"__KAAAABBBOOOOOOM~!__"




"__FAAASSSHHHOOOOM~!__"




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

CL: I think Gibson Hayes may have just soiled himself from the words
of Doc Holliday.

FH: I wouldn't go that far.  But I would say that Doc Holliday just
put an entire world of pressure on Gibson Hayes... not just to get out
of here with his belt, but to look good doing it!  I hate to say it,
but he's right!  This opportunity to headline a major show... people
don't just get shots like this handed to them. Think about it.
Gibson's headlining a show with the likes of Chase Williams, Alex
Martinez, and Rick Marley on the UNDERCARD!  He's got to nail this
opportunity.

CL: Great point, Fred.  As Fred just stated tonight we do have _quite_
a show planned for you.  Doc Holliday drew the line and we will find
out if Gibson Hayes can cross it.

FH: If anyone is up to the challenge it's the former double and our
American Champion!

CL: Earlier today, PVW's new Head of Security made an announcement to
the entire roster as he explained how he would be enforcing the Zero
Tolerance Policy to everyone...

FH: Zero Tolerance?  More like zero ratings!  This idiot is going to
ruin this company with his Boy Scout mentality!

CL: A lot of the wrestlers would agree with you, Fred.  But a number
of them are actually pleased by this new rules regime.  Let's take a
look at what went down earlier today.

[The screen dissolves to black for a moment after which white
lettering appears that reads: "Pre-recorded earlier today".  From
black, the screen then dissolves to an interior view of the arena
hours before the actual card takes place. The ring is in place but
none of the ring ropes have been strung from the corner posts yet.
Stage crew are busily laying cables and arranging chairs as the entire
PVW roster can be seen lounging around in the front rows of the seats
surrounding the ring.  On one side of the ring and furthest from the
entrance, William Craven sits brooding with his wooden bokken resting
across his knees.  On the opposite side of the ring, Rick Marley and
his WMI allies sit in a group, talking and laughing amongst themselves
while Marcus Manson reads a magazine and looks disinterested in the
whole process. Closest to where Craven is sitting (as no one else
appears to be willing to be in close proximity to the green-skinned
monster), Doc Holliday is resplendent in his Old West gambler outfit
as he speaks quietly with Laurel Levinger while Tommy Ryder lounges
lazily in front of them.  Near the aisle and midway between Holliday
and the WMI group sits Alex Martinez and Jessica Marshall, both
looking bored and visibly wishing that they were somewhere else.
Directly opposite the aisle and sitting in the front row are Judd
Marley and Black Jack Baldwin of The Wild Cards. Baldwin has a
notebook in his lap and a gigantic bag filled with an enormous
number of wooden pencils as he appears to be taking furious notes
before the meeting has even begun. Conspicuous by his absence is PVW's
champion, Rob Cole, who is nowhere to be seen. After a few moments of
tense restlessness, heads begin to turn towards the aisle and an
impatient hush falls across the wrestlers as a large group of
figures approaches from the direction of where the entrance curtains
will eventually be installed.  A voice sounding suspiciously like
Baldwin's pipes up in a falsetto voice meant to sound like some kind
of "school m'arm" from a bad spaghetti Western.

V: Oh, look!  The new sheriff is in town!  We're saved!!

[This inspires a few chuckles and some audible groans as the crowd
approaching down the aisle turns out to be twenty or thirty heavily-
muscled men wearing black T-shirts with the PVW logo emblazoned on the
chest.  These are the new security guards and in their midst is the
familiar stocky figure of Jason Keening.  Like the guards who surround
him, Keening is wearing a PVW T-shirt and he is reviewing notes on a
clipboard as he marches toward the half-constructed ring.  As the
guards move to form a circle around the ring facing outward, Keening
mounts the steps and walks into the middle of the squared circle.
Looking around, he stares intently at each and every wrestler as he
surveys his audience.  Some glare at him angrily.  Some smile
(although Craven's smile is more like a shark-like grin) and a
few nod their heads in recognition.  Keening's expression never
changes as he finally turns so that he is facing toward the camera
(coincidentally also facing towards the WMI group).]

JK: Thank you, everyone.  I know that you all have busy schedules
getting ready for the card tonight but it's important that we clear up
any potential misconceptions before we go to air.

[The wrestlers stir and some scowls deepen as Keening pauses to look
down at his clipboard for a moment before resuming.]

JK: For those of you who don't know me, my name is Jason Keening and
I'm the new PVW Head of Security.

[Again, a voice sounding suspiciously like Black Jack Baldwin rises
from the crowd.]

JB: Hi Jason!

[A slightly pained expression briefly crosses Keening's face before he
resumes speaking.]

JK: My job is quite simple.  I am here to ensure the safety of
everyone that enters this building.  While the PVW is here for
tonight's card, the company is responsible for the safety and well-
being of the fans who attend the show, the employees who work on
producing the show... and you, the wrestlers.

[Snorts of derision and loud snickers can clearly be heard.  Keening
smiles in response.]

JK: You heard me.  Part of my job is to make sure that every single
one of you has a safe working environment in which to operate.  You
may not believe me when I say this, but my job description is very
clear.  The security guards that you see in front of you and I myself
are here... to help keep you safe.  Which is why you all need to
understand that the new Zero Tolerance Policy is not only in effect
but it WILL be enforced.  To the letter.

[Low growls of dissension are now audible as Keening takes a moment to
turn in place so that he can survey the entire roster.]

JK: This...

[He points down to the surface of the ring on which he is standing.]

JK: ...is your domain.  It's where you work.  It's where you wrestle.
It's where you compete.  But it is also your bread and butter.  Your
entire wrestling career is focused on this small stage.  Anything that
takes place within the confines of this ring, so long as it's within
the rules of a sanctioned PVW match, is your concern. But that...

[Keening now points to the floor outside the ring where a three-foot
space around the ring structure itself has been painted in red.]

JK: ...is where I come in.  Outside the ring, that is no longer your
domain.  You no longer rule there.  And if you screw up out there...

[Keening smiles a very dangerous smile as he points down at his feet
once more.]

JK: ...you can no longer come back in here.  For you see, ladies and
gentlemen, the way that the Zero Tolerance Policy is going to be
enforced is that we're going to exploit the one place where you're
most vulnerable... your stage.

[Another pause as some of the faces of the wrestlers in the seats
screw up in confusion.]

JK: Break the rules, and your access to this place... is cut off.
Think about that for a second.  If you can't enter the ring.  If you
can't do any interviews or pre-taped vignettes.  If you can't be on
television anymore... what are you?

[Even Baldwin doesn't respond at this point to what is obviously a
rhetorical question.]

JK: I'll tell you what you are.  Invisible.  Unknown.  Unemployed.  In
other words, you won't be a professional wrestler anymore.  No more
matches.  No more title shots.  No more titles, period.  You want to
work?  You want to wrestle?  You want to be on TV?  Then you abide
very strictly by the rules of the Zero Tolerance Policy and we'll have
absolutely no problems whatsoever.

[The wrestlers are silent for a moment as Keening lowers the clipboard
to his side. Some are visibly fuming while others digest what Keening
has said. After a moment, the new Head of Security raises the
microphone to his lips once more.]

JK: Any questions?

[A voice immediately pipes up.]

V: Excuse me?  Mister Keenan, sir?

[Keening turns to face "Your Hero", Danny Daniels who has risen from
his seat with a broad, friendly grin on his face.]

DD: Does Zero Tolerance apply to title defenses of the SUPREME World
Title?

[Daniels holds his SUPREME World Title belt above his head, blocking
the view of the wrestlers seated in the rows behind him.  Across the
ring from where Daniels is seated, Sinister can be seen wearing a
black-and-red short-sleeved shirt with a large dragon pattern on it
stretched tightly across his impressive physique. Sinister brandishes
his black baseball bat, "Soul Pole", as he glares angrily at Daniels.
In the ring, Keening looks a little taken aback at "Your Hero's"
question.]

JK: Uhhh... I can't comment on which titles are defended and when...
but I can say that the Zero Tolerance Policy will apply to ALL PVW-
sanctioned matches.

[Daniels seems satisfied with this answer as he grins enthusiastically
back at Keening and sits down.  As the camera moves past him, Will
Geddings can be seen making a rude gesture towards Jessica Marshall
and Alex Martinez who ignore him studiously.  Between them, Doc
Holliday stands up next clutching his hand-carved mahogany cane in his
right fist.]

DH: Yeah, ah gotta ques-chin.  As ya know firs' hand, ah'm an
honorable man whut don't nevah do nothin' wrong, an' allus abides th'
rules with respect an' dignity. Jes' lak th' fans lak ta see.

[In the ring, Keening's jaw drops open in shock, unable to anticipate
that Holliday would have the nerve to say what he just did with a
straight face.]

DH: So now thet yer changin' th' rules from whut th' fans wanna see ta
whut some grandma in Oregon wants ta see, how do ya think yer gonna
appeal ta yer fanbase by removin' th' aspects of unpredictability thet
they watch wrasslin' fer inna first place?

[It takes Keening a moment to recover before he can respond.]

JK: First and foremost, everyone needs to understand that these are
not MY rules... these are PVW's rules and my job is not to create them
but rather to enforce them. That said, I think your definition of "the
rules" is very different from my own...

[Holliday snorts in amusement.]

DH: ...it took ya HOW long ta figger thet out?  Ain't ah been smashin'
things upside yer gourd fer nine years now?  Ah damn near decked ya
inna hall on th' way in heah jus' outta reflex!  "The rules" ain't
nevah been about two grown men grab-assin' inna ring.  Who th' hell
wants ta see thet?  "The rules" is about two grown men tryin' ta kill
each othah, without th' threat of them ack-shally succeedin'.  The
fans want variety, en'nertainment, an' violence.  They wanna see me
break mah cane ovah Rick Marley's head an' snap both his legs off so's
he'll be short enough ta emigrate to Canada.

RM: Hey!

DH: ...sorry, Rick.  Ya ain't THAT short.

[Gibson Hayes can be heard making a comment.]

GH: That makes one of you.

JK: All right... all right... keep it down.  To get back to Doc's
original question... whether or not the Zero Tolerance policy is what
the fans want to see or not is a question for someone else to decide.
I'm not a television programmer... I'm not a broadcast executive.
This policy wasn't brought in to boost ratings, it was set up in
response to a personal injury lawsuit filed by a fan who got hurt.
If this company wants to continue operating, it can NOT allow its fans
or even its employees to be placed in jeopardy.  THAT is what the
policy is about and it's my job to make it work.  And if you don't
believe me, let me ask a rhetorical question... does anybody see
Vandal Gomez here today?  Anybody?

[Not surprisingly, no one responds although the question does put some
thoughtful expressions on the faces of some of the wrestlers.  After a
moment, Sinister can be seen raising his right hand.  Keening nods in
his direction and the powerful wrestler rises from his seat.]

S: Mr. Keening, concerning the 'red restricted zone' outside of the
ring.  Let's say I toss one of WMI's sorry carcasses out of the ring
and the momentum takes them past the restricted zone.  If the match is
a standard match, am I to wait inside of the ring until that
particular carcass is able to drag himself back into the ring, or am
I allowed to be in the red zone until said carcass manages to drag
himself to it before I continue the pain and punishment?

[From where they are seated, the members of WMI glare intently at
Sinister and he smiles sheepishly as a few chuckles can be heard from
the other wrestlers.]

JK: In this case, the normal rules of the match apply.  The "red zone"
is more for those who are NOT scheduled to wrestle in the match...
managers, valets, et cetera. It's also to prevent run-in attacks by
wrestlers who are not booked for the match. If you're wrestling and
the action spills out of the ring, the normal count-out rules are
still in effect.  If it's a Falls-Count-Anywhere match, you're allowed
to wrestle pretty much wherever you want although I would caution
everyone against doing anything that might endanger any of the fans or
the employees.

[Sinister nods and begins to sit down but before he can, Keening
resumes speaking.]

JK: One more thing, tho'...

[Keening points to the black baseball bat in Sinister's hands.]

JK: I will remind you of Rule #3 of the Zero Tolerance Policy...
namely that foreign objects in any form will not be tolerated.  Anyone
using a foreign object during a PVW sanctioned match will face
immediate suspension with no appeals.

[Sinister's expression grows a little more serious but he nods again
and takes his seat.  Suddenly a sibilant voice can be heard and all
eyes turn toward William Craven who is staring at Keening very
intently.  Intently in the same way that a cobra studies a mongoose
that has stumbled across its nest.]

WC: Jason, dear Jason... you know, as the only one here that has
worked for the Strickland Corporation in the past, I can't believe you
got the old man on board for thisss.  Heh.  I mean, Ron Strickland is
the man who, when strangled by the Spectre, didn't even fire the man.

[Despite their past friendship, Keening can be seen swallowing
nervously before he responds.]

JK: Uhhh... again, Bill... this isn't something that I've created.
I'm not going to lie and say that the Zero Tolerance Policy isn't
something I support as those who know me will understand this is
something that I've felt is long overdue in professional
wrestling.  But the decision to implement the policy comes from a pay
grade way above mine.  My job isn't to come up with these rules...

[Keening's gaze deliberately drops from Craven's face to the wooden
bokken in his hands.  Craven's grip immediately tightens on his
beloved weapon.]

JK: ...my job is to enforce them.

[From the opposite side of the ring where he is seated next to Todd
Johnstone and Gibson Hayes, Dr. Mal Practice of PAIN stands up with a
surgical mask covering his face.  Before he speaks, he takes a moment
to use an enormous spray can to squirt liquid all over the seats
immediately near him.  As he makes a big show of wiping the surfaces
clean, the words "ANTI-KEENING GENE DISINFECTANT" can be seen on the
side of the spray can.  Keening sighs heavily in exasperation as he
turns to face Practice.]

JK: All right... Mal Practice... is this going to be a serious
question or another cheap shot?

Dr. Mal Practice MD: Of course, of course.  My question is entirely
logistical. Would the use of a projectile weapon from behind the line
technically qualify as a violation of Zero Tolerance?

JK: ...

Todd Johnstone: Don't forget the other plan we were thinking about.

DMP: Oh, right!  Also, what about animals?  Trained animals like dogs
don't qualify as "persons" under the wording of...

JK: ENOUGH!  Projectile weapons will be considered "foreign objects"
and are banned!  As are attack dogs!!  I will not have you violate the
intent of the  Zero Tolerance Policy by trying to find loopholes!!!

DMP: So says the guy who made a career out of skirting the rules by
infecting his opponents with genetics-twisting disorders!  Look at
what you did to Baldwin!

JB: Huh?  What?

DMP: See?!  He's practically incoherent thanks to the Keening Gene
that you... *SPLAT*

[Mal is cut off by a soft drink to the face as Baldwin makes an
impressive baseball-like throw and whips his half-full cup of soda
across the ring at Practice.]

DMP: AHA!  Projectiles are violations of Zero Tolerance!  FIRE HIM!

JB: That would be insa...

JK: NEXT QUESTION!

[Practice wipes the soda from his face and glares as Keening looks
relieved that he was able to cut off Baldwin before the Wild Card got
everyone killed. A cough from somewhere behind him causes Keening to
turn to face where Livestock, Gutch, Masked Maniac and Zeke Craven are
all seated behind Alex Martinez and Jessica Marshall. Livestock and
Gutch both stand.]

Livestock: Bravo on the new set of rules.  Hey, since the Prophets of
Rage and the Jokers Wild attacked us out of turn, does that mean
they're suspended?

Gutch: Yeah, uh, which, y'know, would mean we face Urban Legend solo.
We'd be cool with that.

Livestock: The contract clearly stated the match was to be contested
under Gauntlet rules.  We were behind the line.  Pretty cut and dry.

Gutch: Like ... drywall and paint.  Walls...

[Keening raises a finger to interrupt the two before they can
continue.]

JK: All of the scheduled participants that were supposed to compete in
that match were involved in the brawl so the "red zone" restrictions
don't apply. As for the rest of it, that's something you'll have to
take up with the Disciplinary Committee if you want to appeal their
decision.

[Before Livestock and Gutch can protest, Zeke Craven rises and places
restraining hands on their shoulders.  He smiles as he looks up at
PVW's new Head of Security.]

ZC: Mister Keening.  Welcome to PVW.  I'm sure we'll be getting to
know each other very well.

[And with that, the three re-take their seats as Keening frowns in
confusion.  A loud angry voice from the area near Doc Holliday causes
him to turn in that direction where The Mercenary can be seen with his
talking Achmed doll in one hand.]

Merc:(standing up, holding Achmed) I have a question for you, Chief
Running Scared... What makes you think you can take money out of my
pocket?  I mean, everyone here, and especially you, should know by now
that that isn't exactly the smartest thing in the world to do.  I've
maimed people for less.  And, how exactly do you think you're going to
collect?  It's not like I'm going to write you a check...

[Keening smiles.]

JK: Why do you think I decided to levy a fine in the first place,
Merc?  And as for collecting, we'll simply dock your next check... or
two.

[The Mercenary fumes.]

Merc: And have me work for free?  Not bloody likely.  That will
definitely get you hurt and sent back to the casino in a body bag.

[Keening's smile disappears.]

JK: Which will get you permanently suspended and out of a job.  And
then you'll have no income at all.  How's that grab ya?

Merc: (starting to simmer uncontrollably) You f...

[He struggles to regain his composure.]

Merc: OK, you want to be that way and collect my fine?  Well then how
about starting with this...

[The Mercenary stands up and begins tossing small coins at Keening.
From the light reflecting off of them, they are pennies and one
bounces squarely off of Keening's forehead.  Keening's face darkens
and several members of the security team move to stand between The
Mercenary and Keening, providing a human shield of sorts.]

JK: THAT'S ENOUGH!  I know that fining you is hurting you a lot more
than most of the rest of the roster... we all know how much you love
money.  But unless you sit down and keep quiet, the fine will only get
bigger!

[The Mercenary pauses, visibly contemplating doing something
completely evil to Keening but with the wall of humanity in and around
the ring, he thinks better of it.  Sitting down, The Mercenary pushes
the button on Achmed's back allowing the puppet to unleash his
trademark catchphrase]

Achmed: I Keel you!!!

Merc: Good idea Achmed, but not before I do...

JK: What was that?  I don't think I quite caught all of that...

Merc: (still pouting) Nothin'... just nothin'

[In the background, the mysterious Doctor X can be seen sitting in the
third row wearing his white mask and workout clothing.  The masked
wrestler checks his watch as he's clearly bored by the proceedings.
Nearby, Al Tonka of Apache Blood raises his hand to speak while Greg
Bull stays seated beside him.]

JK: Yes?

[Tonka stands up.]

AT: What about evil of alcohol addiction?  Can we ban the evils of
fire water?

[Loud groans and angry noises erupt all around as Keening's face
darkens in a suppressed rage.]

JK: Not the smartest question to ask, bub, considerin' my own ancestry
and how I've defended it...

[Tonka looks confused, completely oblivious to Keening's Paiute
heritage as the Head of Security turns his back on the tag team
wrestler.  But as Keening turns, this brings him to a position where
he is directly facing Xavier Feyr and Lilith who are seated behind The
Made Men.  Feyr and Lilith both look completely bored  and Xavier
has his arms folded across his chest and his head down, seemingly
taking a nap.  But as Keening faces him, Feyr slowly raises a hand and
speaks up.]

Xavier Feyr: [in a calm voice] Excuse me...

[Those seated near the WMI faction turn suddenly, startled by the
sudden break in Feyr's silence.]

XF:  I have a question...

JK: I'm surprised you're even bothering to ask anything.

XF:  How can we be sure you, as fine and upstanding a man as you may
be, will be able to remain objective in your enforcement of these
little rules? Seems you should be holding more than few grudges with
some of the people here. Not that it wouldn't be natural, I mean more
than few of us have tried to kill or maim you on occasion.

Lilith:  Or inflicted horrible acts of torture on you...

XF:  Left you with scars and broken bones...

LP:  Yes, certainly there's a few here who've sent you to the
hospital.

XF:  And that's not even bringing what some of us here have done to
your friends and family... brothers, your wife, in-laws...

LP:  Oh, and let's not forget pretending to be his long lost
relative...

XF:  Oh yes!  That one was brilliant, he never saw that one coming.

LP:  Anyone else remember the look on his face?  Now that was a Kodak
moment if I ever saw one...

[From where he is seated, Doc Holliday looks mildly amused as
Keening's dark face grows even darker.]

JK: In terms of my impartiality, Mr. Feyr, you're just going to have
to trust that while I do have history with several members of this
roster, I am not here to resume any past feuds or vendettas... I'm
simply here to do a job.  Now... do you have any further questions.

XF: [amused, and slightly mocking] No, I have no further questions...
thank you, Jason.

[As Feyr sits, Keening blurts out something while stealing a sidelong
glance at Alex Martinez.]

JK: And for the record, only one man has ever put me in the hospital,
Feyr!

[Feyr's smile of amusement grows even broader as Keening turns away
angrily. Unfortunately, this causes him to end up facing directly
towards Martinez.  For his part, Martinez doesn't even stand as he
leans back in his chair.]

AM:  Tell me somethin'.  Just how do you plan on stoppin' me from
doin' whatever I want?  You really think a fine will stop me?  You
think a suspension is gonna stop me?

[Keening inhales deeply before responding, struggling to regain his
self-control.]

JK: Yeah, I do happen to think a suspension is gonna stop you.
Because unlike other companies that allow suspended wrestlers to
continue interacting with the rest of the roster, OUR suspensions are
gonna stick!  If you can't step into this ring... if you can't even
enter the building... then I think you're gonna be stopped pretty
effectively!

[Martinez chuckles and studiously examines his fingernails, dismissing
Keening and his speech as unimportant.  Keening turns away and ends up
facing the WMI group once more.  Marcus Manson raises his hand, eyes
locked with Keening, and the Head of Security looks slightly
surprised.]

JK: Yes, Marcus?

[Manson stands, hands on his hips.]

MM: I would ask our esteemed Head of Security exactly what he intends
to do about Larry Gionet's interference in the match I was involved in
on the last edition of Heatwave, and his assault on my person.

[Manson seems slightly out of character and Keening's eyebrows knit
together in mild confusion and frustration, clearly demonstrating that
in the past, these two men have not had what you would call an
amicable relationship.]

JK: Well, obviously he has already been suspended for violating the
Zero Tolerance Policy and...

[Manson cuts Keening off.]

MM: With all due respect, Jason. You know I am not a patient man.
Assuming he doesn't dislocate his shoulder again carrying his
groceries into his house, or break his ankle clipping his toenails, I
want to wrestle him as soon as possible. I hereby request, as the
primary target of Gionet's attack, that his suspension be lifted
immediately.

[A slight murmur rises from the crowd of wrestlers.  Keening cocks his
head to one side... opens his mouth to speak... but stops for just a
moment, instead simply nodding his head.]

JK: I'm not making you any promises, Marcus, but I'll take it into
consideration.

[Manson nods and sits back down.  Keening looks away and audibly
groans as he faces Black Jack Baldwin who continues to scribble
something furiously into his notebook. Baldwin looks up and raises his
hand to which Keening reluctantly... very reluctantly responds.]

JK: Yes, Jack.  You have a question?

JB: Several, actually.

[This causes a chorus of groans to rise from the gathered wrestlers.]

JB: Does the "red zone" count vertically as well...'cause I had this
idea to use a blimp...

[With an expression of shock and horror on his face, Keening
interrupts.  But as he does so, his cry is echoed by almost every
other voice in the building as everyone shouts in unison.]

All: NO BLIMPS!

[Baldwin recoils for a moment at the volume and vehemence of this
massed response. Looking around at the sea of faces glaring at him, he
very slowly crosses off one of the items on the long list scrawled on
his notepad.]

JB: Ho-kay... no blimps.  Good to know.  Second question... what if a
pack of feral ferrets were loosed backstage and stormed the ring...
would the people that let them loose be held accountable.?

[A wide innocent smile graces Baldwin's face as he looks expectantly
up at Keening. For his part, the new Head of Security massages his
temples as he glares silently back at Baldwin.]

JB: I'm gonna take that as a ‘No'.  Third question... now... as long
as you're not attacking someone directly, it's fine, right?  Like if
you're outside of the red zone and you happen to fire a catapult at
the ring... and it happens to hit people inside of it...

[The massaging of the temples has now switched to a squeezing of the
bridge of the nose while Keening screws his eyes shut as if
experiencing the beginning of a really bad migraine.  Between clenched
teeth, the Head of Security hisses his response.]

JK:  No... catapults... no... projectile weapons!

[Baldwin obediently scratches another item off his list.]

JB: Right!  What about if you're on the catwalk over the ring and you
bungee jump down, but never ACTUALLY touch anyone in the ring?  Or
what if a guy's REAL tall...does he get extra protection over midgets
like Ricky or Doc over there?

[Both Marley and Holliday glare angrily at Baldwin as Keening makes a
hand signal at one of his security guards.  The guard reaches into a
pocket and pulls out a small plastic bottle marked "TYLENOL".  The
guard tosses the bottle into the ring to Keening who catches it, opens
it, and quickly swallows two pills before answering the question.]

JK:  No bungee-jumping into the ring... no parachuting... no hang
gliders... no aerial assaults, period!

JB:  Hang glider!  Hadn't thought of that!  Uhhh... OK, what happens
if there's a mechanical failure in the back, and the dessert cart just
happens to run amok and squash someone?  Who gets blamed for that?

[This one actually sparks a laugh from amongst the crowd of wrestlers
as Keening begins glaring at Baldwin.  For his part, Baldwin seems
oblivious to the discomfort he's causing and smiles broadly up at
Keening, waiting for an answer.]

JK:  No... "accidents"!  Understood?  Now... one last question.  And
then that's it!

[Baldwin sighs in disappointment.]

JB:  All right.  Final question then...

[An unheard voice cheers this announcement.]

JB: ...if we're in Texas, which takes precedence, Zero Tolerance
Policy, or the "He Needed Killin'" Defense?

[Holliday laughs at this one while Keening's face turns an interesting
shade of purple.  Slowly... deliberately... he can be seen counting to
himself as his face returns to its normal shade.]

JK: The Zero Tolerance Policy is in effect wherever the PVW happens to
be. Now...

[The annoyed glare Keening shoots at Baldwin bounces off the Wild
Card's obliviousness.]

JK: ...I believe that I've taken up enough of your valuable time.
Thank you, ladies and gentlemen.  Should anyone have any further
questions, please come see me in my office backstage.  My door is
always open.

[This last pronouncement is met by a collective sigh of relief from
the rest of the crowd while Baldwin looks disappointed that he can't
continue to raise more questions.  From where the WMI group is seated,
Rick Marley shoots to his feet and angrily storms off as the rest of
the roster slowly rises and begins to disperse. After a moment, the
scene dissolves and we are back to our announcers.]

CL: Jason Keening has just laid down the law!

FH: Hey you have to give him a little credit.  I mean anyone who can
put up with Jack Baldwin like that deserves it.

CL: In a shocking announcement the Willingham's announced wrestling
icon Jason Keening as the Head of Security.  Zero Tolerance just
recieved the boost it needed and tonight what a way to start Tradition
III off with Doc Holliday _and_ Jason Keening.  Fred it don't get much
more Tradition then that.

FH: I don't know ... I am going to enjoy the way we _end_ things off.
America's one and only Hero, Gibson Hayes.

CL: In our main event tonight we have two juggernauts clashing over
the PVW American Championship.  Only two men have wore that title
since PVW's birth.  Can Doc Holliday be the third?

FH: Gibson Hayes would rather die then see a commie wear the American
gold!

CL: Also tonight the PVW tag team titles will be on the line ...
Finally in an I quit match we will have a resolution between Tommy
Ryder and Nick Wright!

FH: Don't forget Rick Marley and Chase Williams in action.  Finally
the Widowmaker captain will take that final step in becoming the
obvious number one contender.

CL: Tonight's lineup is close to a PPV event, but you get it free
right here live on SSN in CHICAGO!

FH: Nice shill there Lester.

CL: However first up we have a Boiling Point rematch.  These two
former best friends have been at one another's throat for months.

FH: It's time for the Pit Monster to squash Benedict like a bug.

CL: The size disadvantage isn't the only difference between the two.
Their Jisatsu fighting style has been a handful for anyone has gotten
inside the ring with them.

FH: Hey you know what they always say about the Benedict's.

CL: What is that?

FH: They must be french because they surrender everywhere they go!

CL: Fred do you always have to be obnoxious?

FH: It's not my fault you can't handle the truth.

HD: This match is scheduled for one fall ...  Introducing first
wrestling out of Detroit Michigan ... Standing at six foot eight and
weighing in at three-hundred and sixty-five pounds ...


The Pit Monster ...

Chad Grimsson !!!


[The opening riff to Biohazard's "Switchback" thunders over the PA as
Chad Grimsson steps out from the back. Dressed in a pair of ripped and
faded blue jeans, black leather chaps, black engineer boots, a white
wifebeater with a red anarchy sign spray painted on the front, and
finishing off with both fists wrapped heavily in white tape, the man
known as the Pit Monster makes his way towards the ring. Eyes focused
on the ring (or his opponent should they come out first), Chad slaps
hands with the fans on his way down the aisle. As he gets to the ring,
Chad steps over the top rope and heads to his corner, waiting for the
bell to ring.]

CL: Grimsson won their first meeting at Boiling Point, but every since
then Benedict hasn't backed away.  He eliminated the Pit Monster in
the rush hour battle royal and on Damage Control when Grimsson was set
to wrestle for the PVW Network championship - Benedict attacked him in
the parking lot.

FH: Bad mistake ... Benedict doesn't stand a chance against a guy this
size and tough.  Maybe he should stick to helping homeless women.
It's what he does best.

HD: His opponent standing at five feet eleven and weighing in at two-
hundred and two pounds ...


Ronan Benedict !!!


[Heavy guitars and drums cue up, ushering in the opening riffs of
DevilDriver's "Before the Hangman's Noose".  The silhouette of a small
man is barely seen behind the curtains, his head bowed low.  Then, as
Dez begins the opening lines, the curtains part.  And Ronan Benedict
steps out and onto the stage.]

# IT'S A GOOD DAY TO FUCKING DAY!
  A GOOD DAY, A FUCKING GOOD DAY!
  A GOOD DAY, A FUCKING GOOD DAY TO DIE! #

[The song kicks into high gear from there, as Dez continues on with
his growling.  Ronan raises his eyes toward the ring and starts making
his way down the aisle, ignoring the fans' outstretched hands as he
passes.  A silent intensity smolders in his blue eyes as he prepares
himself to kick somebody's teeth in.  Upon arriving at the ring, he
steps through the ropes and heads for his corner - still paying no
attention to the fans.  The music slowly fades, and Ronan's demeanor
visibly changes, the ravager takes off at full speed and dives under
the ring and into a full tackle lifting the 365 ponder off his feet
and down to the mat.]


"___THUUUUD___"





~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
                  06.23.09 Tradition III
                    <><><><><><><><><>
                     One on One Match:
                    <><><><><><><><><>
                   Benedict v. Grimsson
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


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


CL: There is the bell, but these two didn't wait for it!  FIST ARE
FLYING AND ALL THE PIT MONSTER CAN DO IS COVER UP!

FH: Of course this is the only way a Benedict can get the upper hand.

[Finally after taking a few big shots the referee is able to get the
Ravager off of Grimsson and he warns him about closed fists.  Grimsson
begins to get back to his feet and Benedict takes off and _SMASHES_ a
knee right into the upper forehead section and the Pit Monster
_CRUMBLES_ down to the mat.]

CL: Grimsson could be knocked out from that shot!

FH: What the heck do these two think this is a MMA promotion?

CL: The first match wasn't any different Fred.

FH: Don't remind me.

CL: Benedict now mounting Grimsson's back ... Back mounted full
nelson!  The Pit Monster is in very early trouble!

FH: He was kamikaze attacked.  He wasn't expecting it!

[The referee checks over Grimsson is makes it quite obvious he isn't
anywhere close to submitting.  Benedict continues to rip backwards as
he lets out a roar.]

CL: You can tell Ronan Benedict is in the zone here tonight.  He has
been chomping at the bits to get even with Grimsson every since he
tossed him in the second row of the crowd.

FH: After the Rush Hour Battle Royal you would assume some of that
anger would have gone away.

[The Pit Monster finds some extra strength and he makes it to his feet
... Benedict holds on mounted on his back holding the full-nelson
still on ...  Grimsson fires around in circles like a tornado!]

CL: Well this is an interesting version of the air plane spin.

FH: Look at Benedict's face ... I think he is going to hurl all over
the place!

[Finally the quick rapid spins start to slow down as the six foot
eight superstar begins to stumble dizzy himself and he leaps backwards
with all his weight and crashes down with three hundred and sixty five
pounds worth crashing on top of Benedict ...]


"___THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD___"


[OOOOOooh POP!!!]


CL: Grimsson leaped backwards crashing all his weight on top of the
much smaller Ronan Benedict and both men are now rolling over trying
to regain their senses.

FH: That even made my stomach a tad ill.

[Both men push themselves up and big wild punch by Grimsson ...
Benedict quick on his feet and riffles off quick jabs.  Grimsson grabs
Benedict by the back of his head and drives a brutal close range
forearm. Grimsson continues to punish the smaller Benedict and pushes
him back into the corner of the ring.  Close range knee to the rib
cage area.  Grimsson with a close range head butt!]

FH: I told you the Pit Monster would eventually punish this punk.  And
just think the world is a better place with one less Benedict in the
world!

CL: Grimsson grabs Benedict and with EASE T-BONE SUPLEX!!!


"___THUUUUUUUUUUD___"


[Grimsson sits on his knees and glares across at Benedict who holds
his abdominal.  Grimsson makes his move and with his big right hand he
engulfs the face of Benedict with an Iron Claw!]

CL: Grimsson has his huge paw engulfed on Benedict's face!

FH: Look at Ronan's leg's flail!

[Grimsson continues to squeeze Ronan's head like it's a beach ball ...
The referee checks over Benedict, but the Ravager never submits.
Finally Grimsson pulls Benedict to his feet with that giant paw ...
Let's go and in one fluid motion he spins into a Uraken ... ]


"___CRRRAAAAAACKKKK___"


[GASPING POP!!!]


CL: BIG Spinning back fist by Grimsson and Benedict crumbles to the
ground!  This could be all, but over.  Grimsson drops and hooks a leg.

FH: Book it!




ONE ...




TWO ...




[KICK OUT POP!!!]




CL: NO!  BENEDICT ISN'T READY TO QUIT!

FH: That's a shock.  Isn't that the Benedict way?

CL: I don't know what you are talking about Fred, but the Benedict
family is known through out this industry to be warriors.

[Grimsson just smiles as he lifts Benedict back to his feet and sends
the Ravager into the ropes ... Whiplash Spinebuster!]


"___THUUUUUUUUUUUD___"




ONE ...




TWO ...




THR ---




[ANOTHER KICK OUT POP!!!]




CL: Look Grimsson is still smiling.  I think he is glad Benedict
kicked out.

FH: Grimsson isn't like most people that step inside this ring.  He
enjoys dishing out pain.  I heard it excites him.

CL: Too much information there Fred.  Gutwrench ...


"___CRAAAAAACK___"


[Back breaker, but Grimsson holds Benedict's back on his knee and
raises his right arm and begins driving clubbing forearm after
clubbing forearm.  The crowd roar in boo's.]

CL: Benedict came rushing down before the bell, but things have turned
ugly for the Ravager.

FH: It looks like the outcome will be the same as Boiling Point.  Chad
Grimsson just has too much size and talent for Benedict.

[Grimsson lifts Benedict up and into a gorilla press.  He turns
towards the ropes and aims to send him over and into the crowd again,
but Benedict slides out!  He spins Grimsson around and _unloads_.
Grimsson is whipped into the ropes Thrust Front Kick and Grimsson
stumbles backwards!  Benedict shoots in and single leg take down sends
the big man down.  He sits on top of Grimsson's shoulders and tosses
bombs.  The official warns Benedict about closed fists again and
those bombs turn into vicious short elbow strikes.]

CL: The fans are now roaring as Benedict has turned the tables.
Benedict is unloading and he leaps up roaring.

FH: Grimsson has been busted open with those shots!  Benedict should
be disqualified!

[Grimsson sits up but just in time to eat a leaping shining wizard!!!]


"___CRAAAAAACK___"


[HUGE BLOOD THIRSTY POP!!!]


CL: Ronan Benedict has lost any control!  Grimsson now pushes himself
back into the corner ...  BENEDICT TAKES OFF ...


"___CRAAAAAAACK___"


[POP!!!]


[Ronan connected with a stiff running knee to face of a seated
Grimsson in the corner.  Benedict turns and backs off and _charges_
again!]


"___CRAAAAAAACK___"


[KNOCK THAT BIG BASTARDS HEAD OFF POP!!!]


CL: Benedict is unloading like a mad man.

FH: He needs to be put in a mental institution he has lost it.

[Benedict screams for Grimsson to get his gimp ass up!  Grimsson
responds, but stumbles into Benedict who is able to lift the Pit
Monster up onto his shoulders!]

CL: BENEDICT HAS ALL 365 POUNDS OF GRIMSSON BACK UP ON HIS
SHOULDERS!!!!!


[BOOOOOOOOOO!]


FH: HA!

[Grimsson was aware enough to reach his large paw down and rake the
eyes of Benedict and the Pit Monster falls to the mat.  The
temporarily blinded Benedict stumbles trying to clear his eyes and
Grimsson is up and running clothesline sends the Ravager up and _over_
the top ropes!]

FH: YATZI!

CL: This has been a complete war on the early going.  The big Pit
Monster is on his way to the OUTSIDE!

FH: It's about to get messy ... Really messy!

[Grimsson drops a double axe handle on the mid-back of Benedict.
Grimsson grabs the side of Benedict's head and aims him towards the
ring steps ....]

FH: BOMBS AWAY!


"___CRAAAAAAAASSSSSSH___"


CL: The Pit Monster just sent Benedict head first into those steel
ring steps.

[Grimsson wipes the blood away from the open gash on his forehead from
the earlier elbow strikes.  He looks down at his hand and that smile
returns to his face.  Benedict still slumped over with his head
against the ring steps ...  Chad Grimsson charges with that big boot
and ...]


"___THUUUUUUUUUUUD___"


FH: SMASHED LIKE A WATER BALOON!

CL: Benedict is in serious trouble now.  Grimsson picks him up and
rolls him under the bottom ropes.  The Pit Monster returns to the ring
and stands across him.

[Benedict finally pushes himself to his feet ... The Pit Monster
charges and lifts Benedict up and buries him into the mat with a
thunderous pounding noise as Grimsson spears him almost six feet
under!]

FH: Now that's a spear!

CL: Grimsson pushes both hands on Benedict's chest for the cover.




ONE ...




TWO ...




THR ---




[WOW HE DID IT KICK OUT POP!!!]




CL: Benedict isn't done yet!

FH: How could he kick out after all that Lester?  Check this guy for
performance enhancer!

CL: He isn't the one 365 pounds full of muscle.

[Chad Grimsson pulls Benedict up by his head.  He puts him in-between
his legs sitting him up for a power bomb.]

CL: Could this be The Psycho Bomb?

FH: Nobody kicks out of that.

[He begins to pull the Ravager up, but Benedict isn't going up with
ease.  Grimsson goes again, but Benedict works his way down and this
time lifts Grimsson up and _over_ with a back body drop!]


[HOLY CRAP COUNTER POP!!!]


CL: BENEDICT WITH THE HUGE COUNTER!

FH: He is just prolonging the inevitable.

[Grimsson pushes himself up and charges, but Benedict catches Grimsson
and twists with all his strength and a belly-to-belly suplex!
Benedict pulls Grimsson up and a _stiff_ knee lifts to face ...
Another!  A third!  A fourth! Benedict bends Grimsson over, places
knee on back of head, slams the Pit Monster face-first to canvas with
his knee coming down full force on back of Grimsson's head.]


"___CRUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUNCH___"


CL: Grimsson has to be out!  This match hasn't been anything like what
we have seen tonight, but it will be talked about for it's brutalness!

FH: Someone get a doctor!  Grimsson is busted open good.

[Benedict grabs the back of Grimsson head and helps him back to his
feet and puts him back on his shoulders.  He stumbles around from the
weight ... However this time he is able to get the death valley driver
off!]


"___THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD___"


[THUNDEROUS POP!!!]


CL: BENEDICT GOT HIM UP AND OVER!

FH: This can't be happening.

CL: It is!  Benedict drops down and makes the cover.  You better cover
those eyes Fred!




ONE ...




TWO ...




THREE ???




[HOW'D HE KICK OUT POP!!!]




FH: NOT YET LESTER!

CL: The match will continue we are all winners.

[Benedict is back to his feet and he is calling for Grimsson to get
up.  AND GRIMSSON OBLIGUES!]

CL: Here it comes!  BIG RIGHT BY BENEDICT!  ANOTHER!  GRIMSSON FIRES
BACK!

FH: No way Benedict can sustain this.


[CROWD POPS WITH EVERY PUNCH!!!]


CL: Grimsson tosses him into the corner! CLUBBING FOREARMS!!!

FH: Benedict drops to one knee he can't sustain this for long.

[... However Benedict can and he does!  He grabs Grimsson and turns
him around and into the corner.  Muay Thai clinch ... KNEES ...
ELBOWS!]

CL: Grimsson breaks out ... He whips Benedict across with a big Irish
whip ... ROUND HOUSE KICK THAT STOPS GRIMSSON IN HIS TRACKS!

FH: Grimsson counters back and inverted atomic drop!

CL: Benedict ducks under a clothesline ...  TIGER SUPLEX!!!

[The Pit Monster is face-down on the mat.  Ronan leans over him facing
down at him from Grimsson's head.  He applies a grounded reverse
waist lock and then begins slamming his right knee into the top of
Grimsson's head. Not once, twice, or even three times, and they
continue.]

CL: Benedict has lost it!

FH: Someone stop this!

[... Grimsson submitted!]


[HELL YESSSSS POP!!!]


CL: It's over and Ronan Benedict evened the score.

FH: What the hell does he call that thing?

CL: I think "ground and pound".

FH: This is just so wrong.  How could a man 5 foot 11 and barley over
200 pounds defeat the Pit Monster?

CL: Sometimes size isn't everything.

FH: Is that what they tell ya Lester?  No wonder you are always single
and alone.

CL: This is the part of the show I just ignore my partner here and
continue as if he said nothing.  What a huge win for Ronan Benedict.
The odd's are now even between the two former best friends at one a
piece.

FH: Well that's if you don't count every little victory the Pit
Monster claimed over Benedict.

CL: Well according to my notes ... Gibson Hayes campaign has bought
some "add" time.

FH: Excellent!

[Open up to an image of Doc Holliday wearing his cowboy gear.]

V/O: Doc Holliday. A man who has been to hell and back. He's a man who
is now fighting for the fans and is a true hero to the little people.

[Doc sure is smiling.]

V/O: You think you know Doc Holliday.

[Freeze frame and go photo negative folks!]

V/O: Think again.

[The murder music from the original Psycho plays as the photo goes
back and forth from negative to normal while the photo creeps in
closer and closer.]

V/O: Doc Holliday nearly killed a man. He was arrested and spent time
in jail. He was deported for not speaking English and deported to
Downtown, Canda.

[Doc with his mouth open, yelling at a referee.]

V/O: Doc Holliday speaks a foreign language and refuses to learn
English.

[A stream of unpronouncable cowboy words rush on and off screen.]

V/O: Doc Holliday is in league with old Soviet die-hards because of
his association with the Tucson Kid.

[Doc and Tucson in a black and white photo with Stalin and company.
Retouched? Maybe...]

V/O: Doc Holliday never returns his movie rentals on time.

[A receipt from Dan's Video Rental and Chik'n Shack with a sizable
late fee.]

V/O: Doc Holliday drinks a workout concoction called "Puppy Juice"...
that is made out of kittens!

[A blender and a photo of a kitten are displayed, moving closer to one
another with the sounds of a blender and a kitten screaming being
played.]

V/O: Doc Holliday, you are no friend to America. You probably invented
the swine flu. Thanks but no thanks, America doesn't need you. America
needs...

[Yay! It's Gibson Hayes mugging for the camera!]

V/O: ...Gibson Hayes, now more than ever. And Gibson Hayes needs you,
America. Donate your money to help Gibson fight off those who would
threaten our glorious nation. Cheer on our one and only savior.
America, and Gibson Hayes, are counting on you.

~The preceding message was paid for by the American Society for
Safety, Health, Obedience, Liberty and Education and generous
donations from viewers like you and was in no way paid for by Gibson
Hayes.~

Voice of Gibson Hayes: I'm Gibson Hayes and I know this message is
100% true!

[Cut back to a smiling Fred and Chip Lester shaking his head.]

FH: Thank god we have Gibson Hayes around here.

CL: Folks I am sorry we had to sit through that.

FH: Why?  It was honest bought air time.  Are you campaigning against
Gibson Hayes now?  Have you joined Doc Holliday's Socialist Party?

CL: No ... I just call a spade a spade Fred.

FH: I can't work with a Commie ...  I am going to have to talk to SSN
about this!  Maybe we can get Todd Johnstone to take your place with
me.

CL: Oh that would be a great broadcast.

FH: Think of the ratings Lester.

CL: Think of the FCC fines.

FH: SSN has deep pockets.

CL: Up next is a debut-mania.

FH: Don't we usually save those for Joshua Morgan?

CL: PVW management must feel pretty good about these four men to have
them debut on Tradition!

FH: Well I have heard a lot of good things about this Perry Fontana
fellow.

CL: And look becareful what you ask for Fred.

FH: What? Oh no...  Who invited this guy?  And look he has a red bull
with him?  Isn't he hyper enough?

JM: Hey guys!

CL: Joshua Morgan the Damage Control host is joining us for this match
it appears.

JM: I was in the back getting ready to enjoy the match and I heard
Fred missed me.  It's an honor to work with you two.

FH: I guess they will let anyone work in the business these days.
Lester is bad enough, but with both of you out here I don't know if I
can salvage this one.

CL: Ignore him Joshua.

JM: I thought that was a given.

FH: Oh great now the two love birds are teaming up on me.

[Herk Douglas stands in the center of the ring and prepares to bring
out the competitors of the next match.]

HD: This match is scheduled for one fall ... Introducing first making
his PVW debut ... Standing at six foot three and weighing in at two-
hundred and fifty one pounds ... Wrestling out of Montreal, Quebec,
Canada ...


The Everlasting ...


Perry Fontana !!!

["Everlasting Bomb" by WideScreen Mode's heavy beats fills the
facility's PA, and the "Everlasting" Perry Fontana wastes no time in
making his way to the ring. Garbed in his colorful boxer's robe, hood
securely covering his head and masking his face, he walks at a brisk
pace, never acknowledging anyone else around him. In the squared
circle, he stretches on the ropes, still alienating himself from all,
even the referee attempting to search him for foreign objects. When
finally done with his preparations, "Il Eterno" disrobes, revealing a
muscled, hairy body, thicker hair, and what could be the world's
thickest black muttonchops.]

FH: I like this guy already.  I predict big things for Perry Fontana!

CL: You haven't even seen him wrestle yet?

FH: It's all in the way you conduct yourself Lester.  Think success
and you will accomplish unless your name is Joshua Morgan.

JM: Hey!

FH: Sorry kid somebody had to tell ya.

HD: His partner standing at six feet two and weighing in at two-
hundred and forty one pounds ...


Wrestling out of the unknown, DR.X !!!


[No music, no pyro nothing ...  The mysterious Dr. X  emerges from the
backstage area.   With a standard black mask covering his face with
matching trunks and boots he begins to slowly walk down the aisle way
looking around the arena....  The camera picks up the back of the mask
where a white X sits.]

CL: There isn't a lot known about this guy really.  My notes says he
is a 27 year veteran of the mat wars who has competed in every state
in the
union. It appears he has held more regional titles than you can shake
a stick.

FH: It's good to have such a decorated champion among us.

JM: Can you even name one title he has held?

FH: Don't ask me such minor details kid.

CL: That usually means he hasn't a clue.

FH: Well it appears Fontana and Dr. X are going to get a long just
fine.

[Camera picks up a stare down between the two.  Fontana eyes the
masked superstar as they await their tag team opponents.]

*PUM PUM-PUM PUM PUM-PUM PUM PUM-PUM-PUM-PUM-PUM-PUM*

[Tribal drums begin to blast over the PA and then wind
chimes begin playing over the top of it. Out from the
back come two Native American men, wearing tan long pants
with tassels hanging off of them and white wrestling boots
underneath! They also have whit wrist tape and headbands
with a feather in it. One of them has long hair, one has
short hair.]

HD: And their opponents ... Wrestling at a combine weight of four-
hundred and thirty five pounds ...  From the Tonto Apache Reservation
!!!


Greg Bull and Al Tonka ...


APACHE BLOOD !!!


[They carry tomahawks in their hand and do a
goofy version of Native American dancing as they make
their way towards the ring. They climb onto the ring
apron, climb into the ring and dance around the ring
until the music dies down and they take off their headbands
and stare down their two opponents.]

CL: Apache Blood made their appearance on Damage Control.

JM: That's right Lester.  These two invaded Damage Control like two
wild braves looking for General Custer's descendants!

FH: Are you sure you should be drinking red bull?

JM: Hey Fred did you hear that UEW is having a reunion show ... Summer
Dreams 09?  Have they contacted you for a return?

FH: Ummm ... Summer Dreams?  Reunion show? Ummm ... Yeah of course
they did!

JM: I figured so since I received the call last night.

FH: [under his breath] Those bastards.

JM: Mighty Man called me earlier this morning he will be there too.

FH: [more under his breath muttering] They really are bastards.

CL: Apache Blood's faces are painted like the Chicago Blackhawks icon.
I guess they really took that Jersey serious.

JM: I think they are just giving the fans what they want.  They even
have colorful feathers tied in their hair.

FH: Color me unamused.  Perry Fontana and Dr. X will make quick work
of these cartoon clowns.

JM: Fred seems awfully bitter today Chip.

CL: We call that waking up for Fred.

FH: Oh look here we have a bunch of funny guys sitting by me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
                  06.23.09 Tradition III
                    <><><><><><><><><>
                      Tag Team Match:
                    <><><><><><><><><>
              Apache Blood v. Fontana & Dr. X
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


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


CL: Well it's always entertaining when Fred gets in a sour mood, but
there is the bell and we have ourselves the inring debut of four PVW
superstars!

FH: Thank god maybe the action will shut you two up for a bit.

JM: Greg Bull is starting things off for the Tribe!

FH: Oh so now we are going to give Apache Blood catchy nick names all
night.  This match can't end fast enough.

CL: Fontana and Dr. X don't seem to be on the same page on who will be
starting this match.

[Finally Perry Fontana holds his hands up as to say "fine" and steps
between the ropes as Dr. X is set to begin the match with Greg Bull.
Dr. X and Greg Bull circle the ring locking eyes. The two approach one
another to grapple but Dr. X grabs Bull's hand and pulls him into a
knee to the gut. Dr. X fires off some stiff right hands to the head of
Greg Bull which sends him into the ropes where Dr. X whips him off.]


"___THUUUUUD___"


CL: Big back body drop by Dr. X!  The old school masked brawler is
starting things off quickly here tonight.

FH: What did you expect this guy has wrestled everywhere.  He has seen
the bright lights and the small high school gym's.  He know's what it
takes to be a somebody in this sport.

JM: Dr. X isn't wasting any time guys ... SNAP SUPLEX AND THE COVER!
This could be bad news for Chief wrestling Bull!

FH: Shoot me now Lester ... I can't take it anymore.




ONE ...




TWO ...




CL: Easy kick out by Greg Bull.  Quick arm wrench and whips Greg Bull
into the corner.

JM: You mean Chief Running Bull?

FH: Where is the Rat Poison?  I know it's around here somewhere ...

[Dr. X charges following it up with a stiff clothesline.   Dr. X now
wasting any time at all yanks Greg Bull and begins to set him up for
an impact power bomb or piledriver, but Greg Bull trips the masked
superstar and fires him off with a slingshot towards his partner ...
Dr. X's chest bounces off the turnbuckle right next to Fontana, where
Fontana easily tags himself in.]

JM: Perry Fontana is a man who thinks quite highly of himself.  He has
a wide array of nicknames.

FH: When you can tone your craft as well as Fontana you can call
yourself whatever you like Morgy.

CL: Yeah we have already heard the wide array of nicknames Fred has
given himself.

[Fontana charges in quickly and Bull ducks it, but it served as a
distraction for Dr. X who turned back around and blasted Bull with a
clothesline of his own.]

CL: Double team moves right there and Fontana just rattled Tonka's jaw
with a right hand!

JM: And here comes Brave Al Tonka is entering the ring!

FH: Oh now he is doing it with Tonka.  Give me twenty tylonal ... A
pocket knife ... ANYTHING!

JM: You okay over there Fred?

CL: Don't worry about him Joshua.

[Boo's shower down as the referee's attention is taken as Tonka argues
with him pointing across at his partner.  Meanwhile, Fontana barks
orders and the two hesitant partners hit a double back drop on Bull.
Fontana locks an armbar on Greg Bull and sit's proudly as Dr. X is
back on the ring apron shaking his head.]

FH: A deadly Perry Fontana _armbar_!  He can put these on at any
time.

CL: Look at Greg Bull he is twisting and trying to get to the ropes
... AND HE DOES!

JM: Luckily for Sitting Bull he wasn't too far away from the ropes.

CL: Al Tonka now trying to get the fans behind his partner.

JM: He is acting like he is playing the drums!

FH: These two can't be serious.  First I have to sit through this with
Joshua Morgan and now these two clowns are doing this?

[Fontana pulls Bull to his feet ... A stiff European uppercut backs
him into the ropes.  He sends Bull across who ducks a big swing ...
Fontana turns, but Greg Bull with a big Tomahawk chop right into onto
the top of Fontana's head!  Bull hits the ropes again, but this time
Dr. X tosses a knee up and drives it intot he mid-back of the
recharging Greg Bull.  This gives Fontana just enough time to recover
and a running bulldog ...]


"___THUUUUUUUUUUD___"


FH: Excellent team work and these two don't even appear to be on the
same page!

CL: Fontana is standing over Greg Bull and he just SLAPS him across
the face.

JM: Look at Al Tonka's face he doesn't look happy at all.

[Dr. X extends his palm as Fontana just looks at it.  He turns around
brushing the mask superstar off and pulls Bull up, but Native American
with a small package out of nowhere!]




ONE ...




TWO ...



CL: No Fontana kick's out!  Both men shoot up and Greg Bull leaps and
drills the cocky superstar with a dropkick right in the chops! Both
men are down.

FH: Come on Fontana get one of those armbar's back on one of these
Indians.

JM: Fontana is up and grabs the leg of Sitting Bull stopping him from
tagging out to Tonka ...


[HUGE COUNTER AND TAG POP!!!]


CL: NO BULL TWISTED HIS ANKLE AND DOVE TAGGING IN AL TONKA!!!

JM: Listen to these fans roar!

FH: Oh god it's like sitting next to the blonde cheerleaders in high
school again, but this time they won't put out.

[Both members of Apache Blood are now inside the ring and ... Double
back bodydrop sends Fontana down.  Dr. X charges at them and both Al
Tonka and Greg Bull side step out of the way! The masked superstar
spins around and Al and Greg both leap up in the air and hit him with
a Double Leaping Tomahawk chop which sends Dr. X down. Apache Blood
begin the war dance inside the ring!]

JM: The Tribe are doing the war dance!  Fontana and Dr. X better
hurry they are getting in the zone!

CL: Tonka scoops up Fontana who stumbles to his feet and slams him
back down to the mat!  He drops an elbow and the cover!




ONE ...




TWO ...




[BOOO KICKED OUT JEER!!!]


FH: Not this time Sitting Bull!  Oh god he has me doing it too.

CL: That's Al Tonka in there.

FH: Okay ... Crazy Horse or whatever his name is.

JM: Good one Fred!  Al Tonka is now setting Fontana up for a vertical
suplex ...

[Fontana showing his amazing wrestling skills counters out and when
grabbing the arm of Al Tonka he then puts him in an armbar!  Tonka
grabs at that arm, but he is in trouble.]

FH: I told you about Fontana and some armbar's.

CL: Fontana has to be setting up those arms for move called the
Amputation.

JM: Sounds nasty.

[Greg Bull now playing the cheerleader on the outside as Fontana has
that arm locked good.  Dr. X continues to stand stoic on the outside
waiting for his turn to get back into the match.  Finally Tonka is
able to wiggle is way into the ropes and force a break ... However
Fontana is either deaf or doesn't care as the referee begins to
count.]

One ...

Two ...

Three ...

Four ...

CL: Fontana breaks the hold just before the five count.  He was
pushing the official's patience and now is getting an ear full from
the referee.

FH: Just call the match and shut up.


"___THWAAAAAAAAP"___


JM: _Vicious_ Knife edge chop by Fontana!

[However that just fired up Al Tonka and fires back with right hands!
He grabs the back of Fontana's head and charges it towards the
turnbuckle smashing him face first!  Fontana stumbles out and atomic
drop sends him leaping forward and right into Dr. X as the crowd goes
wild!]

FH: The official is calling it a legal tag however and Dr. X comes
storming in ...

CL: RIGHT INTO AN INSIDE CRADLE!




ONE ...




TWO ...




JM: Fontana who was still in the ring breaks up the count.

[Fontana is seen screaming at his partner as he backs up towards his
corner.  Tonka tags in Bull as Dr. X pushes himself up.  Bull comes
charging in at full speed, but Dr. X catches him and twists with a
thunderous powerslam!]

CL: What a counter by Dr. X!

FH: X marks the spot.

JM: This is the toughest Veterinarian I've ever seen.

[Fontana now back on the outside with his arm extended calling for the
tag.  Dr. X yanks up Al Tonka and gutwrench and slams him down putting
all his weight on Tonka and hooks the leg.]




ONE ...




TWO ...




[KICK OUT POP!!!]



CL: Tonka shoots a shoulder up!

FH: That was a close call.

JM: Dr. X is staring down this doesn't look good for Al Tonka what-so-
ever!

[Tonka rolls on over and head towards his corner ... Dr. X begins to
_STOMP_ the hell out of Al Tonka .. From the head down and back up ...
ALA the Garvin Stomp.]

CL: Dr. X is stomping a mud hole into Al Tonka!  Dr. X is pulling Al
Tonka up and this isn't looking good...

JM: The Tribe is in trouble here!

[Dr. X puts Al Tonka up on his shoulders as he is setting up for a big
slam, but a VICTORY ROLL COUNTER BY TONKA and he holds the legs!]




ONE ...




TWO ...




THR ---




[NOOOO KICK OUT HEEL POP!!!]



FH: You can't keep this man down!

CL: Both men are up and Tonka with a forearm that backs Dr. X into the
corner.  Tonka with a Tomahawk chop upside X's head and then reaches
over to re-tag in Greg Bull!

[Bull leaps into the ring with a Tomahawk chop on X of his own. Tonka
leaps over the ropes onto the apron, Greg Bull re-tags him in, Bull
leaps back over with a Tomahawk chop on X, Bull leaps over the ropes
to the apron, Al Tonka tags him in again, Bull leaps over the ropes
again with a Tomahawk chop on X, this goes on for a bit, both men
leaping over and over with tomahawk chops to X till the referee jumps
in the middle and makes them stop and both Apache Blood look around
confused, shrug and leap up and hit a double tomahawk chop on X for
good measure!]

FH: What the heck are these clowns doing?

CL: It's called team work Fred.

FH: More like clown work.

JM: Sitting Bull is now climbing to the second ropes ...

[Bull leaps off with an elbow drop off the 2nd turnbuckle on Dr. X,
but X has enough left to move out of the way!  Dr. X stumbles to his
feet and double-underhooks Greg Bull ...]


"___THUUUUUUUUD___"


CL: BIG SUPLEX BY DR. X!!!

JM: Perry Fontana reaches in and tags himself in as Dr. X drops down
to make the cover ...

FH: Fontana up and over the top ropes with a legdrop .... that catches
Dr. X and Greg Bull EEKS!


[POP!!!]


[Fontana shrugs as if he is saying he was in the way.  Dr. X rolls off
and to the outside holding the back of his head glaring in at Fontana.
Perry Fontana then hits the ropes and another leg drop attempt, but
Greg Bull rolls out of the way as Fontana holds his bottom area.  Both
men shoot back up and Fontana with a quick thumb into Bull's eye and
grabs his arm and _another_ armbar submission attempt!]

FH: This has to be over no man can eat a _second_ armbar from the
great Fontana!

[However Dr. X who is still upset with the accidental legdrop reaches
in and slaps Fontana tagging himself back into the match.  Fontana
immediately leaps up demanding to know what that was all about and Dr.
X _DRILLS_ Fontana in the chops sending him through the ropes holding
his jaw and scooting back on the cement floor glaring at his
partner...  However Dr. X turns and both men of Apache Blood are
inside the ring ...]

CL: TONKA WITH HIS RED MAN'S REVENGE STUNNER ....


"___THUUUUUUUUUUUUD___"


JM: SITTING BULL is now on the top ropes and setting up to LEAP ....

FH: This is an outrage!

JM: Listen to these fans going crazy Fred!

FH: They sound about as annoying as you Morgan.

CL: Greg Bull is setting up for the Red Man Assault!


[MASSIVE HEEL POP!!!]


FH: HAHA!  INDIAN CONCUSSION IS WHAT THAT'S CALLED!

JM: What the hell just happened here!?!?!

[Perry Fontana shoved Greg Bull off the top ropes from the ring apron.
Al Tonka is livid, but the official is already pushing him out of the
ring.  Perry Fontana acts as if he is the legal man and rolls Dr. X
under the ropes and turns where Greg Bull is still face first from
being shoved off as he was leaping into his red man assault.]

CL: Greg Bull is in trouble here.  Perry Fontana has that look in his
eyes.

JM: Tonka is stomping his feet, but Sitting Bull looks out of it.

FH: well he did hit the mat head first.  It was a very well timed
Montreal assault by Fontana.

JM: Very well done Fred.

FH: Why thank you Morgan.

CL: Don't encourage him Joshua.

[Fontana sits besides Bull's left shoulder, slipping his left arm
under Fontana's knee joint and folding it back over the same leg's
thigh. From this position, "Le Fenix" traps Bull's arm and applies
pressure by leveraging his left leg. Finally, Fontana applies a
chinlock, sealing Greg Bull's fate ... Bull quickly screams in pain.]

CL: Fontana calls this move the Amputation.  Greg Bull has nowhere to
go.

FH: It's only a matter of seconds ...

JM: NOOOO ...  Sitting Bull is tapping.

[BOOO's rain down as Greg Bull is forced to submit.  Fontana laughs as
he refuses to let the move go.  Al Tonka charges inside the ring and
he runs into Dr. X who just backs away holding up his arms.  Fontana
drops the hold before Tonka can put the boots down.  Fontana rolls to
the outside holding his arm up proudly.  Dr. X just stares to the
outside as the referee walks up and raises his hand.  However Dr. X's
eyes never leaves Fontana.]

CL: Things didn't seem to transition too smoothly between Perry
Fontana and Dr. X.

FH: Never leave a veterinarian to do a man's job Lester.

JM: Sitting Bull's arm looks to be in some _serious_ pain there Chip.

CL: Tonka is checking over his partner with concern.

FH: This Perry Fontana is a precise hitman.  He comes out and just
weakens that arm and then slips on that Amputation and literally by
the looks of Greg Bull takes that arm out!

[Fontana points to himself as if he is claiming it was all him towards
Dr. X]

CL: Dr. X doesn't look thrilled at all as the referee raises him arm
in victory.

JM: Dr. X is old school he didn't like the actions of his partner.
Well guys it's been an honor, but this is my que to give it back to
the professionals.

CL: It's been fun Joshua come down anytime.

FH: And by anytime he means never.

CL: Don't be so rude Fred.

FH: Come on Lester ... I already have to put up with one amateur.  I
don't need to carry two of ya!

CL: I am getting word that Dean Hayes is standing by in the back.

FH: Wow the three stooges of announcing ... Chip Lester, Joshua
Morgan, and Dean Hayes.  This show is going great ...

[Cut to the back, where an out-of-breath Dean Hayes is jogging
alongside "Hellraiser" Tom Landis, who's dressed in jeans and an "ACW"
t-shirt, carrying a duffel bag over his shoulder.]

DH: Tom!  Tom!

HTL: Hey Dean, what brings you swingin' my way?

[Hayes stops to catch his breath for a moment, then answers.]

DH: You've got the Demon Shadow tonight, how on earth are you
preparing for such an unknown quantity?

HTL: Learn to watch the shows, Dean.  I had a little help from an
unexpected source.  And you know, unknown quantity may be the wrong
way to put this.

DH: How so?

[Landis starts walking again, but Dean keeps up step for step.]

HTL: This Demon Shadow wears a mask, right?  Who's to say our American
Hero didn't grow a pair and decide to go incognito to fight his own
battle?

DH: You're saying Demon Shadow is Gibson Hayes himself?!?

HTL: No, not at all Dean.  I'm just saying, don't assume the Shadow is
as unknown as he seems.  I got some good advice recently from an ally
about tonight's match, he said not to sweat the chicken man.

DH: Chicken man?

HTL: Well, I may be paraphrasing.  This guy's a little wild, you know.
But you can't blame the youth of today.

[Dean seems weirded out by Tom's words, but then after a few moments
seems to put something together in his head.  His eyes bug out.]

DH: Youth?  Wait a second, are you saying your ally is-

HTL: Nope, I didn't say anything.

DH: But if that's your friend, then Demon Shadow... oh no, then his
inside knowledge is about Ser-

HTL: Whoa now, Dean.  Don't go creating a legal situation you may not
get out of anytime soon.  I'm not saying _ANYTHING_ about who I spoke
to, and  I have absolutely no clue who's under the mask.  I'm just
screwing with you. Later!

[Landis walks off, leaving an utterly confused Dean Hayes in his
wake.]

FH: Wow what a great investigating reporter you are Dean Hayes.  I am
just speechless over here.

CL: Give him a break would ya Fred.

FH: It's like tonight is amateur hour ... Here let me save this show
for you.  Tom Landis is set to take on Demon Shadow ...  It's a masked
superstar who _wrestles_ and sometimes _talks_ like a certain banned
superstar.  He is going to bite ... chew ... and destroy Tom Landis.
It's obvious the orders handed out by the American Hero states one
thing.  Destroy at all costs!  It's D-Day all over again Lester and
General Hayes is leading the greatest defense against the PVW
Socialist Party!

CL: Speaking of Gibson Hayes I hear we have camera's in the back.

FH: Socialist Spies!?!

[We cut to backstage where Gibson Hayes is napping in a folding chair.
A shadow looms over him. What, another Rob Cole vagina seizure attack
is about to commence? No, not yet(?). The shadow is shown to be none
other than Gibson's mentor: Tyrone "Purple" Hayes. Gibson is in his
wrestling trunks and wearing an old CaT t-shirt while Tyrone is in a
lavender business suit and a very large set of yellow Keds.]

Tyrone: Well, well, if it isn't Mr. Fancy.

[Gibson yawns... then freaks out.]

Gibson: Ty, what in the Sam Hill are you doing here?

[Tyrone rubs his fore finger and thumb together to signify money.
Gibson sighs and looks for his wallet.]

Tyrone: Aside from collecting some cash, I'm here to make sure you
remember that you don't have to play Doc's game. This isn't about you,
it's about him.

[Gibby forks over some greenbacks.]

Gibson: Yeah, I get it.

[Tyrone shakes his head.]

Tyrone: Do you? Remember kid, you have to be beaten, he doesn't. Make
him work for everything he gets in that ring. Tire that sucker out.
Remember everything I taught you... especially the part where you pay
me. Doc is a threat but he's really short so try to stay on the
turnbuckles where he can't reach you if you get in any trouble. Also,
when you beat him you can use his mangled body as a lawn jockey!

[Gibson just stares at his teacher, more wondering what the hell
Tyrone is talking about than listening.]

Tyrone: Anyhoodle, just remember: do not feed Doc after midnight and
never get him wet or William Ragsdale will start having sex with a
store mannequin and ignore that sweet, sweet Phoebe Cates booty. Also,
you're late with your lesson payment and I hate when people are late.

[And with that last bit of sage wisdom, Tyrone Hayes exits.]

Gibson: ...thanks Ty... I think.

[Cut back to Fred Hoyle laughing really hard.]

FH: HAHAHAHAHAHA ...

CL: Fred get a hold of yourself.

FH: HAHAHAHAHAHA ...

CL: Okay maybe not.

FH: Man that was great.  And Tyrone FREAKING Hayes.  Man _one_ Hayes
is great ...  _two_ is even better!

CL: Weren't you just dogging on Dean?

FH: What?  Quiet Lester ... Dean is a wannabe Hayes.

CL: Maybe Tyrone is the informer of Tom Landis?

FH: What!?!  Do you know anything Lester?  A Hayes would never sell
out another Hayes!

CL: Well Dean is pretty loyal.

FH: DEAN IS NOT A TRUE HAYES!

CL: This is so confusing.

FH: Only to the Socialist Party.

CL: Thank god I am getting the que for our next match.  I don't think
any of us can handle the ramblings of Fred Hoyle.

FH: Only because you worship the likes of Doc Holliday and Tom Landis.

CL: Next up is the battle of two of PVW top competitors ...  Both men
are chasing a shot at the PVW World Championship.

FH: Only that one of the two has a little "called shot" in his back
pocket. The other has to fight his way back _into_ the mix.

CL: Let's go to the ring where Herk Douglas is standing by.

HD: This match is scheduled for one fall ...  Introducing first
standing at five foot ten and weighing in at two-hundred and fifteen
pounds ...  Wrestling out of Allentown, Pennsylvania.  He is the
captain of the Widowmakers ...


Showtime ...


Rick Marley !!!


# Please allow me to introduce myself,
# I'm a man of wealth and taste...


[The arena lights dim as "Sympathy for the Devil" by The Rolling
Stones begins to play over the PA system.  After a moment, "Showtime"
Rick Marley emerges from the back to a chorus of boos.  The dark
haired wrestler is wearing dark long legged trunks with the word
"Showtime" stenciled across the butt and with blue-ish white spotlight
streaks up the legs, along with a black WMI t shirt.

He walks unhurriedly down towards the ring, ignoring the boos, insults
and threats from those in attendance until he is about 15 feet
from the ring, at which point he sprints the distance, sliding under
the bottom rope, striding across the squared circle to climb to the
second rope in front of the announcer's table, where he raises both
hands to the crowd...]

FH: There is the great hope of modern PVW.

CL: I think Craven may have something to say about that.

FH: Marley is so past the Craven stuff.

CL: I guess we will find out when they finally step inside the ring at
Shattered Dreams.


MARLEY SUCKS !!!   MARLEY SUCKS !!!   MARLEY SUCKS !!!


MARLEY SUCKS !!!   MARLEY SUCKS !!!   MARLEY SUCKS !!!


MARLEY SUCKS !!!   MARLEY SUCKS !!!   MARLEY SUCKS !!!


MARLEY SUCKS !!!   MARLEY SUCKS !!!   MARLEY SUCKS !!!


[Marley continues to ignore what he says are disrespectful fans.]

FH: These Chicago morons don't know what they are talking about. It
won't get underneath a professional like Rick Marley's skin.

CL: Marley seems to be as calm as they come for all the trouble he
gets into.

FH: When you have guys like the Made Men, Manson, and Feyr around it's
easier to stay calm.

CL: This is true.

FH: It's the Widowmaker way Lester.  Introduced by Colby and expanded
by Holliday.  It's now been perfected by Marley.

HD: And his opponent ...  From Beverly Hills, California!  Standing at
six feet seven and weighing in at two-hundred and ninety seven pounds
...


The Conceited Bastard ...


Chase Williams !!!


[The pounding bass of "Heavy Metal Kings" By Jedi Mind tricks rocks
the arena, and the ramp way begins to fill with smoke.]


##I murder you and laugh##
##I'm Barry Sanders slashing through the path##
##you a magician's assistant, I'm sawin' you in half##

[A figure appears atop the entryway, his shadow looming behind a
shroud of smoke. He emerges, standing smugly at the edge of the ramp,
arms crossed. Chase Williams points to Rick Marley as he takes the
first few steps down the ramp.]

##you a heathan that rely on the beast##
##I'm a demon at the fire crucifyin' the priest##
##I shine over beats##
##a motherfuckin' beast on the mic##
##I'm a lion out the jungle, raw meat what I like##

[Chase shadows a few punches as he ascends the ramp way, 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 entryway with a look that can only be described as ready
to do battle.]

CL: There is our first PVW Heavyweight Champion!

FH: The man who lost his gold to the likes of Brian Young then failed
at getting it back at Boiling Point.  Some hero!

[The PVW icon Chase Williams and Rick Marley meet in the center of the
ring.  PVW referee George Brewer explains the rules on deaf ears ...]



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
                  06.23.09 Tradition III
                    <><><><><><><><><>
                     One on One Match:
                    <><><><><><><><><>
                    Williams v. Marley
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


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


CL: There is the bell and two of PVW's best from year one is inside
the ring.  Chase Williams was the first PVW Heavyweight Champion and
Rick Marley has been embedded in almost everything the PVW has had
happen thus far.

FH: It doesn't hurt when you are the captain of the most feared stable
in wrestling history.

CL: Chase Williams and Rick Marley lock up!


[FIRST LOCK UP POP!!!


... Williams the much bigger and intimidating man pushed Marley back
and the Widowmakers captain steps between the ropes forcing a break.
Chase Williams backs up as Marley slowly steps back in.   The two
approach one another again and lock up.  Both men push for the
upper hand and again the bigger Chase Williams easily pushes Marley
back and this time he steps all the way _through_ the ropes and onto
the ring apron.  Referee George Brewer pushed Williams back as the
fans boo Marley loudly.]

CL: Marley is having words with the fans in the front row from the
ring apron and Williams side steps the official and charges ....
SPEARING MARLEY THROUGH THE ROPES AND FLYING TOWARDS THE GUARD RAIL!


"___CLAAAAAAAAANG___"


[KILL THE BASTARD POP!!!]


FH: In the famous words of Outlaw what the [bleep]!

[Marley was speared in the back by Williams, sending him flying off of
the apron and landing ribs first on the steel guard rail. Marley falls
back to ringside, slumped up against the guard rail while he tries to
catch his breath, but the former PVW Heavyweight Champion exits the
ring and starts dishing out a series of right hands to the face of the
Widowmaker captain!]

CL: Chase Williams is here and he is ready to fight!

FH: You can't treat Rick Marley like this ... He is Mr. Called Shot
and the Widowmakers captain!

[Williams wastes no time and pulls Marley up, goes to whip him towards
the ring apron, but reverses the direction, throwing him stomach-first
into the guard rail and over it into the audience.]

CL: Marley has now been tossed into the Chicago mob!  Here comes Chase
Williams leaping over the barricade and continues his pounding away on
Rick Marley.

FH: The referee isn't even counting he has made his way to the outside
trying to point them back into the ring.  What is this?

[Williams bounces Marley's head off of the steel guard rail, then
throws his fists in the air to fire up the crowd. Williams grabs
Marley's head again and slams it down off the unforgiving guard rail.
Williams hooks Rick Marley up for a back drop but straddles the
Widowmaker captain on the guard rail instead.


OOOOOOOH POP!!!!!]


CL: Look at Marley's face he is feeling the pain through his whole
body now.

FH: He was cheap shotted and the referee isn't even doing anything
about it.  Zero Tolerance my arse!

[Williams backs up and yells in Marley's face to watch this. Williams
rears back and decks Marley, sending him back over to ringside.
Williams jumps the guard rail again and bounces his opponent's face
off of the steel steps before rolling him back into the ring.]

CL: I guess the match is "officially" started?

FH: I heard the bell five minutes ago Lester.

CL: Someone tell the referee that.

FH: Oh I think he knows.  If it was anyone other then Rick Marley
there would have been consequences.  This was probably a direct order
from Jason Keening himself.

[Chase Williams doesn't slow down.  He picks Marley up and whips him
with all of his might into the corner causing him to hit the
turnbuckles chest first. Williams bounces off the ropes in front of
Marley and plows him down with a clothesline.  Williams scoops Marley
up onto his shoulders as he struggles to get to his feet, then "The
Conceited Bastard" plants his opponent with a Death Valley Driver.]


"___THUUUUUUUUD___"


CL: CHASE WILLIAMS MAKES THE COVER!




ONE ...




TWO ...




[DISSAPOINTED KICK OUT POP!!!]



FH: It's going to take more then cheap shots and poor officiating to
pin Rick Marley.  Do you know how many men have done that thus far in
the PVW?

CL: The Tucson Kid did.

FH: And where is he now?

[Williams still in complete control mounts Rick Marley and pounds away
at his face with a barrage of right hands. Williams pulls Marley up by
his hair but "Showtime" scores with a rake to the eyes, then as
Williams staggers away, Marley does what he does best and clips him in
the back of the knee with a nasty chop block as the former PVW
Champion crumbles to the ground screaming in pain.]

FH: That will slow him down.  It's not Alex Martinez devastating like
the last Heatwave, but it'll do.

CL: Marley now pulling Williams and places him throat-first across the
second rope ...  He places his knee across "The Conceited Bastard's"
back while pulling upwards on the top rope to apply pressure and choke
Chase Williams.

[Referee George Brewer begins to count ... As expected Marley releases
his choke at the count of four and slowly pulls Williams up. Rick
Marley goes to whip Williams off the ropes but Williams reverses.
Marley ducks a clothesline and bounces off the opposing set of ropes,
then dives at his opponent for a crossbody but Williams catches him
and hurls him across the ring with a fall away slam.]


"___THUUUUUUUUUUD___"


CL: WILLIAMS WITH ANOTHER COVER!




ONE ...




TWO ...




FH: No! Rick Marley gets his foot on the bottom rope.

[Williams still in control hoists Marley up onto his shoulder and
charges at the corner for some snake eyes but Marley slips out at the
last second and shoves Williams chest-first into the turnbuckles.
Williams staggers backwards right into a falling reverse DDT.]


"___THUUUUUUUUUUUUUD___"




ONE ...




TWO ...




[KICK OUT POP!!!]




CL: Williams digs down deep and kicks out.

FH: That won't slow Marley down...  He starts putting the boots to the
back of Williams head keeping him down to the mat.

CL: Marley now reaching back and locks him in an armbar while sitting
on William's back.

FH: Marley is one of PVW's best all-around wrestlers.  He can brawl
with men like Chase Williams and he can stretch them when he has too.

[Williams struggles and starts crawling towards the ropes but Marley
releases his submission and locks him in an arm wrench instead further
proving Fred Hoyle's point.]

CL: Marley now pulls Williams to his feet, keeping that arm wrench
locked in.

FH: Watch this Lester.  Watch a professional work!

[Marley wraps William's arm around the top rope, pulling on it with
all his might while the referee starts to count him down again.]

One ...

Two ...

Three ...


Four ...

[BOOOOOO!]

CL: Marley just releases his illegal submission again and hits
Williams with some clubbing blows.

"___SMAAAAACK___"


"___SMAAAAACK___"


"___SMAAAAACK___"


"___SMAAAAACK___"


[Marley locks Williams in a hammerlock, then charges him towards the
corner, hurling him shoulder-first into the steel ring post. Rick
Marley applies a rear waist lock and backs up, rolling Williams up and
holding his tights as George Brewer slides down for the count.]




ONE ...




TWO ...




THREE ???




[HUUUUGE KICK OUT POP!!!!]


CL: NO!!! Somehow Williams was able to muster out even with Marley
holding the tights!

FH: What tights?  I didn't see him holding any tights.

CL: Of course you didn't Fred.  We wouldn't have expected you did.



MARLEY SUCKS !!!   MARLEY SUCKS !!!   MARLEY SUCKS !!!


MARLEY SUCKS !!!   MARLEY SUCKS !!!   MARLEY SUCKS !!!


MARLEY SUCKS !!!   MARLEY SUCKS !!!   MARLEY SUCKS !!!


MARLEY SUCKS !!!   MARLEY SUCKS !!!   MARLEY SUCKS !!!


FH: These fans saying Marley rules?

CL: No the earlier chant of Marley sucks has returned.

[The Widowmaker captain returns to being the aggressor and stomps on
the back of William's head as he tries to get up, keeping the
momentum. Marley pulls Williams up, then hoists him onto his
shoulders. The much smaller Marley throws Williams off of his
shoulders hitting a gut-buster. Marley quickly extends William's arm,
leaps into the air and hits a knee drop onto it. Marley follows up
doing this three more times before releasing Williams and watching him
roll off in pain.]

FH: Marley is a master at slowing his opponent down.  He knows Chase
Williams has that devastating rolling armbar and he is making sure he
destroys that arm.

CL: Marley is pulling Williams up for his Showbomb.... WILLIAMS
WRIGGLES FREE AND SHOVES MARLEY OFF THE ROPES ---

[Williams charges and Marley bounces off the ropes. Williams bends
down for a back body drop but Marley stops short and throws Williams
between his legs to go for the Showbomb _again_. Williams refuses to
be lifted. Marley hits a few clubbing blows to the back and tries
again, but Williams still fights out of it. Williams then nails Rick
Marley with a back body drop and finds himself with new life.


ROARING POP!!!]

CL: WILLIAMS THROWS HIS ARMS IN THE AIR AND HE IS CALLING MARLEY UP!

FH: Bad mistake _FORMER_ champ.

CL: Williams whips Rick Marley off of one set of ropes and LIFTS HIM
...


"___THUUUUUUUUUD___"


[... Side belly-to-belly suplex. Williams pulls Marley up and whips
him off the next set of ropes, nailing him with a big revolving
spinebuster.]


"___THUUUUUUUUUUUUUD___"


CL: Williams isn't done he pulls Marley right back up again, showing
no mercy and whips him off the ropes again, this time taunting his
opponent ... PRICE OF FAME!


"___THUUUUUUUUUD___"


[High Impact Legsweep STO!  Williams leaps up and fires up the crowd
by walking around the ring screaming at Marley and throwing his fists
in the air. Williams stands over the fallen Rick Marley and slaps him
in the face a few times to wake him up.]

FH: Now he is just disrespecting the Widowmaker captain.  This is not
a road he wants to go down!

CL:  Williams backs up into a corner and readying himself for another
spear like he started the match off with.  This could be the beginning
of the end if he hits Rick Marley with it again.

[Rick Marley starts pulling himself up slowly holding his back. Chase
Williams fires out charges at his prey, but Rick Marley leap-frogs
over him. Williams turns around ---]


"___SMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK___"


FH: Casting Call!!!!!

CL: That is Marley's lighting fast version of the superkick ... The
crowd is stunned silence, but Williams didn't fall down he is
stumbling _trying_ to stay on his feet.  Marley grabs Chase...




"___ECHOOOOOOOING THUUUUUUUUUUUUD___"






[HEEL FINNNNIIIISHHHAAAA JEEERING BOOO'S!!!]


FH: The Limelight!!!!  This sucker is over!  Nice try Chase Williams
come again.

[The twisting 3/4 front face lock bulldog seems to have sent Chase
Williams to dream land as Marley lays down and hooks the leg.]




ONE ...




TWO ...




THREE !!!





[BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!]




FH: Rick Marley has done it!  Mr. Called Shot ... The Widowmaker
Captain ... Soon to be the Craven killer has defeated Chase Williams
one on one inside this ring.  So much for being Dex Willingham's so-
called chosen one.

CL: Williams didn't seem like himself out there.  He didn't have the
same aggression.

FH: Oh now you say it after Marley just beat your boy.

[We cut to the backstage as we see some sort of road agent and Gibson
Hayes arguing. Gibson is wearing street clothes: your basic pair of
red blue jeans, old CaT t-shirt and has his right arm in a cast...
wait a cast? Hayes seems livid and is screaming.]

Gibson Hayes: "...what do you mean you need "proof"? Can't you see my
arm is in a cast! Why would I be wearing a cast if my arm wasn't
broken? Who's payroll are you on? The Russians? The French? It can't
be... Keenings, can it? I thought they were still using dirt clumps as
currency!"

[Your generic road agent stands there, unmoved by Gibson and his
shouting.]

Gibson Hayes: "What is your major malfunction, numbskull! I am
obviously injured and already defeated Doc Holliday on the last
Heatwave so why is that match still on the card! I demand you take it
off the list!"

Road Agent #631: "No can do Gibson. Maybe if you had alerted people
before the night of the match then maybe something could have been
done but at the last minute? We can't just cancel a match - especially
not a main event on a big show like Tradition on such short notice,"

[This information does not sit well with the self professed American
hero.]

Gibson Hayes: "I fear that the smell of corruption, and probably spicy
burritos, eminates from your person. I know you've been bought off.
This will not stand. Thankfully, a real doctor has given me the
clearance to use this cast, so I will do what I must and wrestle. I
will wrestle injured and hurting. I will pull myself up by the
bootstraps and venture forth into that ring with America by my side
and the hopes of millions of her children riding on my shoulders.
Meanwhile, you will probably go off and secure more crackwhores for
Rob Cole and other golden children being shoved down the throats of
PVW in order to make its eventual change into some foreign owned scum
hole more palatable. Good day!"

[Gibson walks off in a huff as the road agent is left wondering just
what the hell is going on.]

FH: What is going on here?  PVW road agents forcing a man with an
injured arm to wrestle?  First they won't let Larry Gionet compete
because he is hurt now they are forcing a hurt Gibson Hayes to
wrestle!?!  CONSPIRACY!

CL: Fred I have no energy to argue this one.  I will just agree yes
the PVW has a conspiracy against Gibson Hayes.

FH: Finally we have cracked the first member of the Socialist Party.

CL: We've got a long night ahead, fans, and...

[The lights in the arena dim as the abrupt beginning to "You Know My
Name" by Chris Cornell hits.  And this is the theme music of a
hometown boy, so the fans EXPLODE.]

CL: ...and Chicago's own is getting a standing ovation!

[A subtle cast of red light shines over the crowd.  The entrance is
similarly bathed in the red hue as the voice of Chris Cornell comes in
over the PA.]

# If you take a life, do you know what you'll give
# Odds are, you won't like what it is
# When the storm arrives, would you be seen with me
# By the merciless eyes I've deceived

[And after a few seconds, a figure emerges through the portal to stand
in the midst of the red light.  He stands, frozen there as the
spotlights begin to pulse around him.]

# I've seen angels fall from blinding heights
# But you yourself are nothing so divine
# Just next in line

[And as the chorus hits, the lights come on in blindingly full force
to reveal "Hellraiser" Tom Landis standing there, soaking in the
hometown love.  He's dressed for combat, wearing full length black
tights with a silver and red design running up the legs, and
"Hellraiser" written on the seat of the pants.  He's also wearing a
white T-Shirt with "MADE IN CHICAGO" printed on it in chrome stamping.
Visibly amped up because of the reaction he is getting, Tom begins to
walk down the aisle towards the ring, slapping hands the whole way.]

FH: Isn't it ironic?  Born in Chicago... buried in Chicago.

CL: There is no question that is the Demon Shadow's intention tonight,
fans.  Todd "The Rod" Johnstone has sent his allegedly Japanese
assassin...

FH: What do you mean 'allegedly'?

CL: I mean the Demon Shadow is The Spectre in a mask, and you know it!
He's been sent to  destroy Tom Landis to keep him away from the PVW
American Champion, Gibson Hayes!  Landis has had Hayes' number in
every confrontation, but Hayes has avoided the one-on-one contest
that Landis fervently desires!

FH: Yeah, Landis and everybody else.  Get in line, chump.

[The lyrics continue, and the "Hellraiser" takes his time going around
ringside. The energy from the crowd is high, and the music goes on...]

# Arm yourself because no-one else here will save you
# The odds will betray you
# And I will replace you

[As he gets to the ring Tom wipes his feet on the apron before
climbing into the ring as the cheers crescendo, and the Chicago native
stands on middle of the ropes and raises his arms to the crowd.]

CL: Listen to the ovation!  What a welcome!

FH: Hometown lemmings.  They're not giving Landis a welcome, they're
giving Landis a farewell. Johnstone has the Demon Shadow ready.  He
basically brought this man in to kill Tom Landis, and anyone else who
would harrass our American icon, Gibson Hayes.  Tonight, all that
sweet yen Johnstone's paying this killer is gonna be justified.

CL: It's been tried before, Fred.  On many occasions.  Yet Landis is
still here.

FH: For now.

[The music dies down, and we hear the crowd chant:]

Crowd:  WEL-COME HOME!  WEL-COME HOME!  WEL-COME HOME!  WEL-COME HOME!
        WEL-COME HOME!  WEL-COME HOME!  WEL-COME HOME!  WEL-COME HOME!


FH: And somewhere backstage, Jessica Marshall is throwing up.

CL: Probably.

[The arena lights suddenly cut to pitch black without warning.]

FH: And somewhere out there, Tara Marshall is making sure she gets
everything in the will.

CL: That I find unlikely.

[Over the PA system, the faint sound of a heartbeat begins after a
moment of complete silence.

Thump-thump

Thump-thump

Thump-thump

The fans boo mightily.]


FH: Hear that, Landis?  Take a long listen.  That's a pulse.  You'll
be lucky to have one  of those ten minutes from now.

[When the lights come back on, Demon Shadow stands in the opposite
corner from his opponent.  The two men stare at one another as the
fans rise to their feet again!  Todd Johnstone has also made his way
to ringside during the blackout.  Grinning an evil grin, he calls out
instructions to his man.]

CL: I think Johnstone just ordered the Demon Shadow to remove Landis'
trachea.

FH: Just think, he can then have PAIN replace it.  With a waffle iron
or something.

CL: Johnstone is awfully smug, having this brute to do his dirty
work...

FH: Wouldn't you be?

CL: I suppose I... wait, what's this?

[The lights go out in the arena and then spotlights kick in to swim
throughout the crowd.  One star shaped light rest solely on the
entrance ramp not moving at all.  Suddenly the lights die down and cut
off as "Let Them Eat Rock" by The Upper Crust begins to play.]

#They say there's people starving,#
#Dropping down dead in the streets#
#The lazy slobs, they ain't got a job,#
#They say they ain't got enough to eat#
#Let Them Eat Rock#
#Why don't you eat a rock#

CL: I don't recognize this music, fans.  Johnstone... Todd Johnstone
looks like he's seeing a ghost!

FH: And Landis is grinning!  I don't like this!

CL: Could this be Landis' mystery confidante?  The man who said he'd
tell Landis how to defeat Gibson Hayes?

[Then there is a loud explosion as one by one golden pyros go off
around the complete surroundings of the entrance ramp and then back
again causing a great deal of smoke to cover the entire entrance way.
As the lights slowly come back to life the silhouette of a man can be
seen making his way out.  The man just stands there letting the smoke
clear from the area. As the smoke dies down the identity of the man is
soon shown to be...]

CL: THAT'S JOHNNY DETSON!

FH: WHAT?!  WAITAMINUTE!  He can't be here!  He's got a personal
vendetta against Todd Johnstone, from years back!  He can't be out
here; Zero Tolerance!

[Detson has a smirk plastered on his face as he glares at Johnstone.
He walks over to some of the crowd to show off his physical condition.
He struts down to the ring as Johnstone really starts going allistic.]

#They're picking through the garbage#
#Behind my favorite restaurant#
#They're sickly pale, they're thin as a rail#
#I don't know what in the hell they want#
#Let Them Eat Rock#
#Eat Rock Now#

CL: JOHNSTONE HAS LOST IT!  HE'S ENRAGED!

FH: Johnny Detson was a major rival of Johnstone's last star client...
Tyrone Hayes! The man who trained Gibson!  It all makes sense now...
this jealous has-been can't stand to see the Hayes name perpetuated!
He's here to help Landis ruin Gibson!  ARREST THAT MAN!

CL: Arrest him?  For what?

FH: TREASON!  TREASON AGAINST THIS GREAT COUNTRY!

CL: Oh, please...

[Detson stands at the intersection of aisleway and ringside, just
behind the Zero Tolerance line, and raises his arms in mock triumph
inciting the crowd's cheers.  He stands there and flashes his
trademark cocky grin to the crowd, soaking up Johnstone's ballistic
rant.  Landis is calmly seated on the top rope in his corner,
absolutely loving the reaction that Detson has provoked in Johnstone.
The music dies out, and Herk Douglas is in the ring, along with
referee Max Kelly.]

CL: Detson distracting Johnstone, and the Demon Shadow assessing the
threat... let's go up to Herk Douglas for introductions!

*DING*

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

INTRODUCING FIRST, TO MY LEFT.  THE MANAGER... TODD "THE ROD"
JOHNSTONE!  HE REPRESENTS: FROM JAPAN... WEIGHT UNKNOWN...


        ...T H E    D E M O N    S H A D O W    !   !


[BOOOOOOO!  The Shadow's posture is a bit less certain now, as he is
trying to get some new instructions from Johnstone about the situation
now that Detson has invaded the area.  Johnstone is belligerently
threatening to impale Max Kelly with a fireplace poker if he does not
eject Detson.]

HD: AND HIS OPPONENT, TO MY RIGHT.  INTRODUCING FIRST, THE MANAGER...
JOHNNY DETSON!

FH: MANAGER?!  WHAT?!

CL: He'd have to get at least a temporary manager license to be
allowed at ringside.  And it looks like he did just that.

HD: HE REPRESENTS... FROM CHICAGO, ILLINOIS...


[HUGE THAT'S-OUR-CITY POP!]


HD: ...WEIGHING TWO HUNDRED FOURTY-SIX POUNDS...



        "H E L L R A I S E R"   T O M   L A N D I S  !  !


[Landis raises his arms, and the fans roar their approval.  Herk
Douglas then bails out, because the Demon Shadow has finally gotten
instructions from his manager, and immediately enacts them.]


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
                  06.23.09 Tradition III
                    <><><><><><><><><>
                     One on One Match:
                    <><><><><><><><><>
                  Landis v. Demon Shadow
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



*DING*DING*DING*


CL: We're underway, and Demon Shaodw on the attack!  He yanked Landis
off the top rope, and is just pummelling him with punches!  Look at
that!  The Shadow has gone berserk!

FH: So much for grandstanding.  Let's see the hometown fans help
Landis out of this.

CL: Demon Shadow now biting!  Come on, this is ridiculous!  Max Kelly
applying the count... that's more than five seconds!

FH: I tell you what.  If Kelly disqualifies Demon Shadow for biting?
We'll find out if Demon Shadow is the Spectre, because you'll be able
to do a dental pattern match on Kelly's skull.

CL: Demon Shadow now ripping up Landis' T-Shirt... and choking him
with it!  Come on!

FH: He's got to the count of five, and again... any sane referee will
make sure they don't fast-count this man.

CL: Demon Shadow relinquishing the choke, and back to punching.
There's no question that we've seen these tactics before.  That's the
Spectre.

FH: Burden of proof, Chip, burden of proof.

CL: Landis to his feet, and staggering as Demon Shadow launches a
combination of blows.  Landis firing back with a kick, but the Shadow
doesn't even flinch.  Thrust chop to the throat, and Landis holding
his windpipe after that one.

FH: Demon Shadow might be holding Landis' windpipe in a minute.

CL: Shadow with Landis by the hair, and throws him through the ropes!
Tom Landis dumped to the floor, and the Shadow is right out after him!

FH: Keep your eye on Detson!  He's not above dirty tricks, believe me.
And he's not a PVW wrestler, it doesn't matter to him if he breaks
Zero Tolerance.

CL: We actually do not know if he has been signed or not.  Demon
Shadow scoops up Landis... BODY SLAM ONTO THE FLOOR!  And when you're
at ringside, a simple body slam becomes a big deal, Fred.

FH: That hurts like hell.  It's like being hit in the kidneys with a
golf club, and if the Demon Shadow had one in his hands right now,
Landis would be able to tell you all about that.  Look at the Demon
Shadow stepping on the face of Tom Landis, grinding his head into the
floor!

CL: Landis being punished brutally, as Todd Johnstone shouts
encouragement.  Or discouragement, as he's mainly yelling at Landis.
He can't get involved here, and even if he could, Johnny Detson is
close at hand to make sure he wasn't able to do it twice.  The Demon
Shadow scoops up Landis, and rolls him back into the ring... uh, oh!
He's got his head and neck draped over the apron!

FH: WHAM!  Big elbow, right to that unprotected throat.  And again!
And again!

CL: Brutal tactics, but we would expect no less.  Demon Shadow rolling
in the ring, and Tom Landis hasn't managed to get out of the blocks in
this one.  Demon Shadow drops a leg on Landis, and...biting!  More
biting!  This is classic Spectre right here, gnawing on Landis'
forehead, trying to get him to bleed!

FH: No wonder he's not bleeding yet.  Landis is an old man by now.
Tough meat.

CL: Landis punching away, but no effect.  Demon Shadow breaking just
before the five count, and hammering away.  All brawling by the Shadow
early.  He picks up Landis... drop toehold by the veteran!  Landis
with a quick move there, and he rolls away from the Shadow!

FH: I think he just fell down and accidentally tripped the man myself.

CL: Shadow up and charging... hip toss by Landis!  Shadow back up, and
another hip toss!  Armdrag takedown, and another!

[The crowd finally comes alive, as Landis finally gets some offense
going in a series of simple takedowns.  Demon Shadow rises time and
again, and each time Landis easily takes him down with a basic
echnical maneuver.]

FH: Oh, come on.  Don't let him nickel-and-dime you with this!

CL: That won't hurt the Shadow, but it will wear him out quickly.
Demon Shadow lunges forward... grabs the double choke!  Landis hooks
his wrists... AND MONKEY FLIPS HIM UPSIDE DOWN INTO THE CORNER!

FH: No!  He got stuck!

CL: Shadow got his leg stuck under the turnbuckle, like a Tree Of Woe!
Major break for Landis, and the Hellraiser looking to take full
advantage!  Full head of steam... sliding dropkick to the face of the
Demon Shadow!  No way to protect himself from that, and the Shadow's
body crashes to the canvas!

FH: Fast-paced match so far.  This doesn't favor Spec...uh, Shadow!

CL: You said Spectre, and everyone here knows who it is under that
mask.  Johnstone screaming at the Shadow to bail out and regroup, but
that doesn't appear to be his intention as he gets up again.  And
Landis SNAPS A KNEE UNDERNEATH THE JAW!  That one hit like a ton of
bricks, and Shadow falls out of the ring, limp!  He may have knocked
him out with that!

FH: Not a chance.  But there's no doubt that it did damage.  A guy
steps into a knee smash like that, and if it hits the point of the
jaw... yeah, lights out for a normal man.  But this is not a normal
man.

[HUGE POP!]

CL: PLANCHA!  LANDIS TAKES THE FIGHT TO THE DEMON SHADOW ON THE
OUTSIDE!

FH: Idiot.

CL: Tom Landis hammering away; he's got the Shadow down at ringside,
and he's right on top of him!

FH: He's making a big mistake, taking this outside and punching it up
with him!

CL: Landis is not relenting... but the Shadow drives both thumbs into
the neck, did you see that?

FH: They used to call that a butterfly chop, because of the way your
hands make the butterfly shape.  It looks like a chop but you're
really thumbing the guy in the Adam's apple.  Good stuff.

CL: A classic Fred Hoyle move, I am sure.  It stunned Landis, and
Demon Shadow rolled over on top of him.  Now he is the one punching
away!  This is turning into a fight, plain and simple!

FH: Landis can win a wrestling match with the Spect... uh, this man.
He can not win a fight with him.

CL: I will concur.  Shadow picks him up...

[A big heel response, as the Demon Shadow simply grabs Landis under
the arms, and hurls him into the ringpost back-first.  The
"Hellraiser" hits the post and caroms, twisting in mid-air and landing
in a heap.  The momentum of the throw lands him outside the Zero
Tolerance line.]

FH: HA HA!  There's your fancy technical wrestling for you!  I call
that the Greco-Roman Throw-The-Idiot-Into-The-Steel Takedown.

CL: Shadow rolls back in, and look out!  Landis is at the feet of Todd
Johnstone, and he and his men have been researching all kinds of
loopholes in the Zero Tolerance rules!

FH: You know Todd's got some... HEY!  Get that idiot Detson out of
here!

[Johnny Detson points the big finger into Johnstone's face.  The pudgy
manager doesn't back off, but instead brandishes his black cane
enacingly.]

FH: Detson better watch out.  Johnstone has a brown belt!

CL: A brown belt?  From where?

FH: Sears.

[Todd starts pointing his cane at Detson, who snatches it from him.
Bereft of his weapon, "The Rod" now realizes that the man in front of
him doesn't HAVE a PVW career to lose by attacking him, and starts to
back off down the aisle.  Detson follows, and Todd's screaming fit of
rage and disgusting invectives are of little avail as he is more or
less chased from the arena.]

CL: Look at this!  Detson is running Johnstone out of here!  We're
going to have a one on one match!

FH: THIS IS AN OUTRAGE!  JOHNNY DETSON HAS NO BUSINESS DOING THIS!

[Seeing that the Shadow's much-hated manager is being chased out of
here, the fans cheer.  In the meantime, Landis has reached the apron,
where the Demon Shadow chokes him on the top rope.  Shadow snaps him
over the top rope into the ring, and commences biting again.]

CL: Back in the ring, and for the third time, Demon Shadow biting at
Landis' forehead!

FH: He'll do it as many times as he has to to draw blood.

CL: Landis getting up, and Shadow punches him in the face.  Landis
firing back! It's a punch-up, but Landis' blows having little effect
on the big man.

FH: And you can see the frustration!  Tom Landis cannot hurt the Demon
Shadow!  Ooh, big body blow by the Shadow.  He's going downstairs now.

CL: He is, and Landis rocked into the ropes from a series of body
blows... OH NO! Landis fell into the ropes, and the Shadow got him
hooked in!  Landis is tied up in the ropes!

FH: Something tells me that being married to a Marshall has prepared
him well for this.

CL: That's not funny.  Shadow now measuring his punches... vicious
strikes to the ribs!  He's placing each one right where they'll do the
most damage, right on the ribcage, and Max Kelly desperately trying to
get the Shadow back!

FH: Good luck with that.

CL: HE'S BITING AGAIN!  That's the fourth time!  This has to stop,
this is a total disregard for the rules!  Not that we expect anything
else from the Spectre.

FH: That's not the Spectre until somebody proves it is.  Hell, that
might be the Cookie Monster for all you know.  OM NOM NOM.

CL: That's not funny either.  And this time... yes, Landis is now
bleeding!  Demon Shadow kept biting until he drew blood, and now he's
punching the cut!  Max Kelly getting in between... that's very
dangerous!

FH: Some say Kelly might be having his strings pulled by SSN after
what happened in the Rob Cole-Chase Williams match at Boiling Point,
but he's obviously not some "evil ref" like some people are
thinking... not that I'd have a problem with some discretionary
officiating, but he just risked his life.

CL: Kelly got Landis out of there, and Demon Shadow taking his
responsibilities seriously here.  The old Spectre probably would have
just smashed Max Kelly, but if he did that here, he wouldn't have time
to inflict any lasting injury to Landis. Landis rolling to the apron
to recover, but that may not be a wise move!  Demon Shadow with a kick
to the head sends him to the floor, and the Shadow again to the
outside!

FH: Only to the apron.  WHAM!

[The crowd boos as the Spectre runs down the apron, and stops his
momentum with a hard stomp to the head of a standing Landis.  The blow
connects with a sickening smack, and the Chicagoan drops flat onto his
back.]

CL: Vicious blow, with all of Spectre's weight behind it.

FH: There you go calling him Spectre again...

CL: Demon Shadow... DOUBLE STOMP OFF THE APRON!  He is destroying Tom
Landis here in his own hometown!

FH: Wonderful, all his hometown fans can go visit him in the hospital.
It's not like Chicago fans aren't used to seeing their favorites lose.

CL: Johnstone's assassin picks up Landis, and whips him into the
railing!





FH: WHOO-HOO, DID YOU HEAR THAT?!  He blasted Landis into the
barricade!  I think five people in the first row just suffered cracked
kneecaps!  Wow!

CL: Tremendous impact, and the Shadow now picking up Landis... going
to drop him throat-first on the... NO!  Landis slides down the back!
He's got the Shadow's head bent back!

FH: What, is he trying for a Dragon Sleeper?  What... HOLY CRAP!





[The fans cheer wildly, as Landis flips forwards, landing on the other
side of the barricade and spiking Demon Shadow's throat into the top
of the railing!  The Shadow snaps backwards, clutching his neck in
obvious distress.]

CL: DIAMOND DUST INTO THE BARRICADE!  LANDIS WITH ONE MOVE TURNS THE
MATCH AROUND!

FH: That could have dented his windpipe!  Ruptured his larnyx!
Smashed his trachea! If that's Spectre, he's got to be smiling inside.

CL: But not on the outside!  Landis recovering... he's tough.  The
"Hellraiser" steps on top of the railing... and right onto the Demon
Shadow with an elbow to the head!  Even he's not going to shrug that
off with the added impact from coming off the barricade, and Landis
rolls him into the ring!

FH: This match has been pretty much dominated by the Demon Shadow
until now.  Landis has got a small cut, and I don't know if he's got
enough time to clear the cobwebs!

CL: He'd better make time.  Landis climbing up to the top rope... HIGH
CROSS BODY! SHOULDERS DOWN, AND HE HAS THE LEGS HOOKED!


ONE!









TWO!









THR... NO!



FH: HE ALMOST STOLE IT!

CL: Demon Shadow almost caught napping, and this crowd was ready to
explode!  Tom Landis pulls up the Spectre...

FH: Watch it with that.

CL: ...and sends him off the ropes!  BAAAAACK BODY DROP!  And a
beautiful rolling neck snap, immediate follow-up!  Landis pushing the
pace, and... OOF!

FH: Shadow sat up, and Landis just stuffed his right knee right in his
mush!  That's the second stiff kneesmash he's given the Spec... agh!
Demon Shadow!

CL: Watch it with that, Fred, remember?

FH: Landis pulling up the DEMON SHADOW, ahem.  And gets his face
raked!  Well, that burst of offense was short-lived!

CL: Dirty trick, and the Shadow off the ropes... big head of steam...





[The man who may be Spectre barrels full force, trying to plow Landis
down with his bulk... but gets snatched around the waist.  Landis
lifts, and lets Shadow's momentum take him around in a sharp pivot,
before spiking him straight down, sitting out into a vague combination
between spinebuster and powerbomb.  The tremendous maneuver draws a
roar of approval (and some 'oooohs') from the fans.]

CL: AND LANDIS WITH A TWISTING RYDEEN BOMB!  HE SMASHED HIM WITH IT!
WHAT IMPACT!

FH: Now Shadow's in trouble!  His early attack took the fans out of
it, but they're getting back into it now!  He can't let this guy get
an adrenaline rush from them!

CL: The crowd getting hot once again, as Landis picks up the Demon
Shadow, and sends him into the turnbuckle!  Follows him in... monkey
flip... no!  Shadow sends him reeling with a forearm across the face!
Shadow charges forth, knee to the ribs doubles Landis over!  Shadow
backs up to the ropes... uh oh!

FH: He's gonna suplex him over the top!

CL: The crowd is up in arms, as the Demon Shadow lifts Landis with the
vertical suplex... no!  Tom Landis blocks it, and gets back down on
his feet!  He doesn't want to take that long ride to the floor, that's
for sure!  Shadow tries again... another block!

FH: NO!


[HUGE POP!]


CL: LANDIS WITH THE CHICAGO THUNDERBOMB I!  He pivoted into a massive
gourdbuster, and crushed Spectre's face into the canvas!

FH: The Demon Shadow, not the Spectre!  If Spectre finds out you're
casting these aspersions, Chip, I am NOT sticking around when he comes
to do something about it.

CL: Well right now, he's groggy on the canvas!  Landis wanted a fast-
paced match, and he's been able to get the better end of a countermove
war the past minute or two because he's better suited to it.  Landis
scooping the Demon Shadow up... look at that!  Is he trying to pull
the mask off?

[We see Tom Landis with two hands on his demonic adversary's head, and
he is jerking his head back and forth sharply.]

FH: I don't think so... in the old days, that's what you'd do to dizzy
a guy and soften him up for a piledriver.

CL: And that's just what he's doing!

[Another loud response, first in anticipation of the maneuver, and
then in glee at the execution!]

CL: LANDIS PILEDROVE HIM!  HE PILEDROVE THE HELL OUT OF THE DEMON
SHADOW!  THAT HAS TO BE IT!

FH: Come on, Todd!  Tell me you're back there, and you got some clever
Zero Tolerance workaround!

CL: Hooks the leg!


ONE!









TWO!









THR... NO!


[The crowd lets out a big awwwwww.]

FH: I don't care if it's not a guy's finisher, if you can kick out of
being turned upside-down and driven head-first into the mat with your
opponent's weight behind it, you are a bad, bad man.

CL: Demon Shadow survives the piledriver, but Landis has the Chicago
Thunderbomb II and even Before The Fall if he needs it.

FH: I still remember that El Outlaw LOCO was unconscious for five
minutes after that move at Boiling Point.  Come on, Shadow!  Get back
in this thing!

CL: Landis hoists the Shadow.  European Uppercut straightens up
Shadow, who fires back... Landis ducks underneath the haymaker and
drops him with a neckbreaker!  Demon Shadow cannot prevail in a
counter-wrestling battle with Tom Landis; he has to find a way to
regain full control!

FH: Shadow is trying to get outside the ring, but Landis has him by
the trunks! Come on Kelly, get the man off the trunks!

CL: Landis picks up Demon Shadow... oof!  Shadow banged the back of
his own head back into Landis' face.  That staggers the "Hellraiser",
but he recovers and moves in... LOOK OUT!


[BIG HEEL POP!]


FH: HOTSHOT INTO THE SECOND TURNBUCKLE!  Landis hit it face first!

CL: Now Lndis is hurt!  He's leaning on the corner for support, and
Demon Shadow slow to get to the attack... kick to the midsection by
Landis!  And another!  And another!  Landis hopping up on the second
rope, and flying... OH NO!

[The fans give another big heel reaction, but this one is mixed with
some 'ohhhhh' as Landis' attempted flying forearm is intercepted by
two strong hands that shove Tom even higher into the air... and then
blast him with a falling Ace Crusher as he falls to the mat!]

CL: SAMOAN NECKBREAKER!  WHAT A COUNTER!

FH: I guess the Demon Shadow CAN win a counter-wrestling match, huh?

CL: It was a fantastic maneuver, and that will give him time to
recover.  He was hit with some major offense, and it doesn't matter
how tough you are, those big moves will take it out of you.

FH: No lie.  Landis almost had him.  But almost doesn't cut the
mustard in the big leagues.  Demon Shadow is crawling over to
Landis... oh!





CL: Shadow has him by the ears, and is just bashing his face into the
mat!  Over and over!  That's not a wrestling move, that's just
cruelty!

[The fans boo loudly, but the Demon Shadow is oblivious as he picks
Landis up, and wraps his arms around him...]





FH: RIGHT ON HIS BEAN!  HA HA!

CL: THE DEMON SHADOW SUPLEXED TOM LANDIS ONTO HIS HEAD!  AN OVERHEAD
BELLY-TO-BELLY ONTO HIS HEAD!  And it's the Shadow now with the heavy
artllery!

FH: Landis is fine, he only landed on his head; that should cushion
some of the impact.  See, he's getting up already.

CL: The man was already bleeding, and it will get worse after that!
Landis using the turnbuckles to pull himself up, and the Shadow all
over him!  Lefts and rights... could this be Fata Morgana?

[It could.  The Demon Shadow finishes the punching combination with a
spinning backfist.  After the Uraken connects, it is a simple movement
to snatch the head of his adversary, and drop into a falling Ace
Crusher.]

FH: No no, Fata Morgana is what Spectre called that combo.  This is a
different guy, so we'll call that Holy Crap Where'd My Head Go.

CL: I don't think the name will catch on.  Demon Shadow with a
headbutt, and a waistlock... GOOD GRIEF!





[Demon Shadow applies the waistlock from the front, and lifts.  The
motion causes Landis to do a half-turn in the air, so that by the time
the Shadow is standing straight, Landis is in normal belly-to-back
waistlock suplex position.  Demon Shadow then pretty much just tosses
him backwards, swinging him to land almost head-first as he falls
back.  The fans are impressed with the suplex, but still boo.]

FH: That's how we used to suplex a guy, Chip.  Way back in the day.

CL: That was a waistlock suplex, and you don't see them done like that
much anymore! But the Demon Shadow angled that one, trying to send
Landis head-first yet again! His strategy is now obvious.  He got
Landis bleeding and weakened with the rough-housing, and now he's
trying to drop him on his head until he injures him. And... ugh.

FH: Chain wrestling!  Follow right up with another move.

CL: A blatant choke does not constitute chain wrestling!

FH: Sure it does.  Look, he broke at the count of four, and then
applied another one.  Waistlock suplex to choke to choke to choke.
Great classic combo.

CL: These fans letting the Demon Shadow know what they think.

FH: The Shadow knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men.

CL: ...

FH: I guess he does have a lot in common with Spectre then.  Picking
him up with that choke... ha, that's a front facelock chokehold now.

CL: SWINGING NECKBREAKER WITH THE FOREARM USED TO CHOKE!  That's a
vicious way tobreak the hold, but at least that part of it was clean.
Shadow over, and punching away at the open wound of Tom Landis.  And
listen to this!

FH: Oh, yeah.  Those punches sound sweet.

CL: Not that!  The fans!

[The fans are stomping, and rallying behind their hometown hero:


        "LAN-DIS!  LAN-DIS!  LAN-DIS!  LAN-DIS!  LAN-DIS!  LAN-DIS!

         LAN-DIS!  LAN-DIS!  LAN-DIS!  LAN-DIS!  LAN-DIS!  LAN-DIS!"

Slowly, the chant begins to energize the "Hellraiser".  First, his
feet move, then he gets to his knees.  The Demon Shadow continues to
punch, but Landis continues up to his feet.  The Shadow elbows,
headbutts, and even kicks Landis... but he does not fall.  He reels
after every blow, feels every shot, and staggers from every impact...
but he does not fall.]

CL: LANDIS MAKING HIS WAY UP!  THE FANS ARE FUELING HIM!

FH: What?  Impossible!  Noone weathers Spec... I mean the Demon
Shadow's attacks like that!

CL: The Shadow with another big kick... BLOCKED!  Landis has his foot!

[The fans erupt, cheering as Landis gives the "you are officially
screwed" finger-waggle to Demon Shadow, who is now hopping on one foot
since his other foot is in his opponent's possession.  He swings the
foot around, and the Shadow tries to come all the way around with the
big clothesline.  But he's just not mobile enough to get himself in
position to exert his power... Landis catches the arm coming, sticks
his own foot behind Shadow's crossed-while-turning legs, and drives
him straight down with authority!]

CL: STO!  LANDIS FLATTENED THE SPECTRE WITH AN STO!

FH: He'd never have been able to hit him with that if the Shadow had
his balance!

CL: And now Landis stomping away like a man possessed!  The Shadow
trying to get up, but he's getting the boots put to him here!  Landis
grabs his arms... he's got Spectre's arms crossed in front of him!  DO
YOU BELIEVE THIS!





[A mammoth noise as the fans scream approval... as Tom Landis crosses
the Spectre's arms as he's doubled over, and uses them to powerbomb
him!]

FH: NO WAY!  NO FREAKING WAY!

CL: STRAIGHTJACKET POWERBOMB!  ON A MAN WHO NEEDS TO BE PUT IN ONE!

FH: THAT'S NOT THE SPECTRE... uh, not that the Spectre needs to be put
in a straightjacket!  But how the heck did Landis get him up for
that?!  That's nearly three hundred pounds!

CL: Probably close to two-eighty, and Landis is calling for it!  He's
giving the sign for the Chicago Thunderbomb II... and HERE WE GO!

FH: If he can Orange Crush him... it'll be over.  COME ON SHADOW!
DON'T LET GIBSON HAYES DOWN!

CL: HE'S GOT HIM UP... BUT THE SHADOW SLIDES DOWN THE BOACK... NO!
NO!

FH: YEEEESSSS!


[MONSTER HEEL POP!]


CL: __DESTINY'S GRIP__!  THE DEMON SHADOW HAS HIM IN THE KATAHAJIME!


FH: Forget it!  See ya!  Auf weiderschen!  Sayonara!  Au revior!  And
if you know how to say "you're screwed" in any other language, feel
free to chime in!

CL: Landis was taken totally flat-footed by the Katahajime!  He's
trapped in the middle of the ring, locked in Destiny's Grip!

FH: We've seen this move dozens of times, and people don't get out of
this hold.

CL: Actually, we've never seen the Demon Shadow use this!  This is
Spectre's move.  And we've also seen the Demon Shadow use the Rebirth.
This man isn't even trying to conceal his identity!  This is the
Spectre, and he's about to claim another victim!  LANDIS FALLS!  THE
SHADOW HAS HIM ON THE MAT WITH IT!


Crowd:  "LAN-DIS!  LAN-DIS!  LAN-DIS!  LAN-DIS!  LAN-DIS!  LAN-DIS!

         LAN-DIS!  LAN-DIS!  LAN-DIS!  LAN-DIS!  LAN-DIS!  LAN-DIS!"


FH: These rubes think that chanting is going to help.  If Landis
escapes from this, I'll eat my hat.

CL: The chant... it's giving Landis another surge!  HE'S FIGHTING BACK
UP TO HIS FEET!  DEMON SHADOW CAN'T BELIEVE IT!

FH: WHAT?!

CL: Landis rushes the corner... AND DIVES THROUGH THE ROPES!  DEMON
SHADOW HITS THE TURNBUCKLE FACE FIRST!  THE HOLD IS BROKEN!

[The fans cheer, as Landis weakly slumps onto the apron, and the
Shadow staggers backwards into the center of the ring.]

FH: IMPOSSIBLE!  And thank goodness I don't wear a hat!

CL: Landis is gasping for air, though.  He was in Destiny's Grip for a
long time, and it may have taken its toll as the maneuver cuts off
bloodflow to the brain!

FH: Then again, he may not need much oxygen in the brain.  Not a lot
of real estate up there, after all.

CL: Tom Landis is back on his feet, but the Demon Shadow rushing
him... LANDIS DODGES!  The Shadow tried to knee him off the ring
apron, but Landis dodges, and a rake of the face!

FH: HEY!  DISQUALIFY HIM!

CL: Tom Landis doing what he has to do to survive, and now he's
climbing the ropes! Demon Shadow is blinded, and Landis on the top
rope... no!  Shadow climbs up to the second rope and meets him!  Demon
Shadow punching away... OH NO!  NO!





FH: YES YES YES!  THAT HAS TO BE IT!

CL: THE DEMON SHADOW JUST SHOVED LANDIS OFF THE TOP TO THE CONCRETE
FLOOR!  THAT WAS A TERRIBLE FALL!  LANDIS IS WIPED OUT COMPLETELY!

[The fans are horrified, as the Demon Shadow slowly climbs down from
the ropes.  Landis hit back-first, and is not moving.]

FH: Good riddance to bad rubbish!  Gibson Hayes prevails again!

CL: What?!  This has nothing to do with...

FH: Everything to do with Gibson Hayes!  The reason that Tom Landis is
gonna be in a hospital bed for weeks is because he tried to embarrass
America's hero and take his precious gold away.  The Demon Shadow is a
faithful ally of our great nation, doing a heroic duty.

CL: Did you just read that from an index card?

FH: Todd helps his men prepeare, and the guys who call his men's
matches, too!

CL: Demon Shadow throwing Landis back into the ring.  I can't imagine
that this can end well.  Landis still is not moving, and the Demon
Shadow entering after him.  And stomping away!  Why doesn't he just
pin him?!

FH: Duty.  Sacrifice.  Honor.

CL: Sadism.  Sheer sadism.  He picks a limp Tom Landis up... and hooks
him for a suplex.  He grabs the leg... NO!  HE'S GOING TO HIT A
REBIRTH!

FH: Spectre's ended careers with this!  I think we're gonna see Demon
Shadow get one himself...

CL: HE GETS HIM UP...


[MASSIVE POP!]


FH: NO!  NOOOOO!


CL: INSIDE CRADLE!  LANDIS WAS PLAYING POSSUM!


ONE!









TWO!









THRE... NO!


[The fans counted along, sure that he had him, but the Demon Shadow
kicked out at 99/100ths!  Landis is dismayed, but gets up... very
woozy.]

FH: I don't think he was playing possum, I think that was all he had
left!

CL: Incredible reserves from Tom Landis, who is a competitor!  But the
Demon Shadow is furious!  He's up, kicking, punching, and raking!
Shadow off the far ropes...

[The fans cheer, as their man isn't finished yet!]

CL: ...BELLY-TO-BELLY!  LANDIS HITS THE BELLY-TO-BELLY, AND HE'S STILL
IN THIS!

FH: Come ON!  This is getting to cockroach-levels of absurd!

CL: Tom Landis is pulling up the Spectre, and a hard knee to the face.
Landis hooks him... going for the Chicgo Thunderbomb II... AND A
BLATANT LOW BLOW BY THE DEMON SHADOW!  COME ON!

[The fans boo the low blow, and Max Kelly issues a warning.  The
Shadow pushes him away, by his face, and hooks Landis again for a
Rebirth.]

CL: He should be disqualified!  A low blow AND shoving Max Kelly?

FH: If Kelly DQs him, he'll get a lot worse than shoved!

CL: SHADOW HAS HIM UP... __REBIR... NO!

FH: HEY!

[The fans roar as the Demon Shadow falls down while attempting a
Rebirth... because his opponentwas pulled out of his grasp and out of
the ring by Johnny Detson!  Max Kelly, having been shoved away, was
not in a position to see it.  Detson pulls Landis back behind the
line, and starts checking on his condition.]

CL: DETSON!  DETSON RETURNED TO RINGSIDE!

FH: AND VIOLATED ZERO TOLERANCE!  BLATANTLY!  THERE'S YOUR
DISQUALIFICATION!

CL: But the Spectre had shoved Kelly away!  His back was to it!

FH: He's the damn Demon Shadow, Chip, and he's going to go pull Johnny
Detson's lungs out through his nostrils!

CL: Demon Shadow out on the floor... ASSAULTING DETSON!  HAMMERING
AWAY ON THE FORMER ACTOR-TURNED-WRESTLER!  Detson falls, and the
Shadow biting him and punching him and kicking him at the same time!

FH: That's just new levels of pissed off, when you can't decide
whether to bite, punch, or kick, so you say "screw it" and do all of
them at the same time.

CL: Max Kelly out there to break that up, he never saw Detson touch
Landis... AND THE DEMON SHADOW PUNCHES HIS LIGHTS OUT!  AND THEN
THROWS HIM INTO THE RINGPOST FOR GOOD MEASURE!

FH: Good!  Let Detson get away with everything he wants, will he?

CL: And Johnny Detson is getting the hell out of Dodge!  He took one
look at what a pissed-off Demon Shadow looks like, and he doesn't want
any more of that!  Detson running to the back, and the Demon Shadow is
on the rampage!


*DING*DING*DING*


[The bell has rung, and the crowd is hot.  Partly happy because that's
got to be a DQ on the Shadow, partly upset that there was no clean
finish, partly outraged that Detson has fled, partly anxious that the
Shadow may still have Landis at his mercy with no more reason to worry
about rules.]

FH: Oh, great.  Duke Martin is already out here, he probably saw
Detson interfere on the monitor, but you just KNOW he's going to
disqualify Demon Shadow anyway.

CL: You cannot abuse the referees that way!  The Demon Shadow pulling
Landis into the aisle... he's going to hit a Rebirth out there!  He
has permanently ended careers this way!

FH: Spectre has... and Demon Shadow is about to get his first one...
HEY!  WHO INVITED HIM?!

[The crowd explodes into cheers as a black-and-gold streak rushes down
the aisle.]

CL: DOC HOLLIDAY IS HERE, AND HE'S GOT HIS WALKING STICK!





FH: That no-good... GAH!  WHAT WAS THAT FOR?!


CL Demon Shadow tried to put him out on Heatwave!  And now Holliday
bringing the payback!





CL: Two shots with the mahogany cane, and the Demon Shadow bailing
out!  He jumps the railing... he's trying to get a chair from a fan!
Demon Shadow coming back over the railing with a chair...





CL: BUT LANDIS IS UP, AND HE JUST KICKED THE CHAIR INTO THE SHADOW'S
FACE!  Here comes security!


FH: Of course... they don't want their main event ruined because
Holliday tried to be a hero.  Let Demon Shadow go!  Besides, didn't
Holliday just violate Zero Tolerance?

CL: Technically he did not, as the match was over.  But technically,
Johnny Detson and the Demon Shadow both did!

FH: WHAT?!  What do you mean the Demon Shadow violated... wait, Detson
had a manager's license!  But he interfered first!

CL: He never touched Demon Shadow!  This is a mess, but Landis is
up... Tom Landis is standing!  The Demon Shadow failed!  He couldn't
put Landis out!  And here is the official word!

HD: LADIES AND GENTLEMEN... IN FOURTEEN MINUTES, FIFTY-SIX SECONDS,
HERE IS YOUR WINNER, AS THE RESULT OF A DISQUALIFICATION...


                "H E L L R A I S E R"    T O M    L A N D I S  !


[The fans erupt into cheers, as "You Know My Name" by Chris Cornell
starts up again.  Landis re-enters the ring as Holliday retreats to
the back.  The "Hellraiser" gets his hand raised in victory in front
of the hometown crowd.]

CL: And a well-deserved win as Tom Landis gets the victory here in...

FH: Well deserved?!  Who did he pin?  Who submitted?  How did he
escape the Rebirth?  He owes his win to Johnny Detson and his life to
Doc Holliday!  And now he's coming for Gibson Hayes?  I SMELL
CONSPIRACY!

CL: Oh, brother, not the conspiracy theory again.

FH: The conspiracy hired Detson!  They knew he was expendable, that he
could violate Zero Tolerance!  They're protecting Tom Landis!  The
network hired his sister-in-law...

CL: Who hates his guts.

FH: All a show, says I.  CONSPIRACY!

CL: Tom Landis defeats the Demon Shadow by disqualification, and Todd
Johnstone has to be beside himself right now.

FH: What if the conspiracy set a trap, and Detson chased him into an
ambush and...

CL: Switch to decaf, Fred.  What a night we have had thus far ...
With still plenty more to come.  However we are going ever so close to
Shattered Dreams!

FH: Tonight Doc's dreams will be _shattered_.

V/O: Some dream for a shot ...

[Clips of superstars like Tommy Ryder, Gavin Cassel, Joshua Curtis,
Dark Soul, Danny Daniels, Tom Landis, Made Men, and Jokers Wild are on
rapid fire duty... ]

V/O: Some dream for gold ...

[Gibson Hayes is seen holding up two title belts high in the air...
Larry Gionet stands frosting at the mouth... Justin Cruise returns for
years of retirement to grab the belt he never held... Marcus Manson
stands menacing.]

V/O: Some dream of a legacy ...

[Doc Holliday firing off left jabs ... Rick Marley with his band of
Widowmakers behind him.  Chase Williams holding up the PVW Heavyweight
Championship.  Rob Cole laughing! ]

V/O: They fight every day to be one of the lucky few to accomplish
their dreams ... But for the majority ... They are no strangers to -

SHATTERED DREAMS!!!

... Global invasion!
... Two nights!
... London!
... New York City!

PVW - Shattered Dreams

[Cut back to the announcers.]

CL: We are ever so close to PVW's fourth PPV!  The Main Event's have
already been announced.  William Craven and Rick Marley will square
off in night one.  And on night two the PVW World Heavyweight title
will be defended.  On Heatwave we find out who the champion is when
Rob Cole and Justin Cruise collide!

FH: Rob Cole can continue to dismantle anyone who gets in his path.

CL: Out next match on paper is quite interesting.  At Boiling Point we
received shocking news that Jessica Marshall had been brought in to be
SSN's new power play.  However she didn't come alone.  She brought the
baddest seven footer on the planet with her - Alex Martinez.

FH: Since then he sent Randy Acorn packing and planted Chase Williams
in  near record setting time in the tag team match.

CL: However Alex Martinez isn't the only interesting part of this
triple  threat match.  Gavin Cassel and Will Geddings are two men that
have both  turned down offers to wrestle under the SSN umbrella.  Up
to this point  they are the only two to do so.  A friendship between
the two fighting for  the same cause has been made and the fans have
rallied behind them.

FH: It makes me sick.

CL: Both men will have a chance in defeating the seven foot monster
and  Global Superstar of SSN.  However it will take a joint effort in
doing so.

FH: What is going to happen when it comes time for one man to win?

CL: Bingo ... You have to wonder if that was in the minds of the match
makers when this was scheduled.

FH: To be honest I am unsure if _both_ Cassel and Geddings can beat
Martinez.  The guy isn't human ... I've seen the terminator movies
they resemble Alex Martinez a lot!

CL: Well Herk Douglas is inside the ring let's go to the Voice and
find out!

HD: This match is scheduled for one fall and will be wrestled under
triple threat rules!

[Let's get this match going POP!]

HD: Introducing first ... from Alameda County, California... weighing
in tonight at 239 pounds, accompanied by Katrina Cruz!


GAVIIIIIIIIIIINNNN CAAAASSSSSEEELLLLLLLLLLL!


[The opening riff to "Let It Rock" by Kevin Rudolf f. Lil' Wayne
screams to life over the PA system, and the fans unleash a heel pop as
they turn to the curtain. As the entrance way fills up with smoke, a
figure slices through it and strikes a pose at the top of the aisle.]

#I see your dir-ty face,
Hide behind your collar.
What is done in vain,
Truth is hard to swallow.
So you pray to god,
To justify the way you live a lie -- live a lie -- live a lie.#

[Dressed in full length, shiny black tights with a silver sun detailed
on the right thigh and black boots, Gavin Cassel raises one hand in
acknowledgement of the crowd's pop, as Katrina Cruz follows him out.
Cassel has stringy blonde hair that goes just below his chin and ever
so stylish stubble. Around his neck is a tight choker necklace, just
because. Katrina is dressed in her business casual attire of fitted
jeans, mini-heels, and an American Eagle zip up hoodie, with a black
shirt underneath. Her auburn brown hair is let free and she clutches a
clipboard as she follows her charge to the ring.]

#And you take your time,
And you do your crime.
Well you made your bed,
I'm in mine#

[Gavin saunters to the ring, not used to the cheers from the fans. At
ringside, he slides into the ring on his belly, pops to his feet and
then climbs onto the second rope, the fans cheer for the youngster.
Gavin jumps off and lands in the center of the ring, giving a loud war
whoop as he backs into his corner, where Katrina waits to talk with
him.]

CL: Cassel looks focused and ready for the task at hand.

FH: You have to figure his stomach is in knots right about now.

CL: If it is he is doing a good job at hiding it.

HD: Introducing next ... From Florence, South Carolina ...  Standing
at six feet one and weighing in at two-hundred and fifteen pounds ....


WILL GEDDINGS !!!


#Here it is again#
#Yet it stings like the first time#
#Seasons never end#
#Double nickels on your dime#
#I thought we were friends#
#I guess it just depends who you ask#
#These feelings tend to leave me with a hole in my chest#

[Pyros go off on either side of the ramp as "Calling All Skeletons" by
Alkaline Trio hits it's full instrumental part. Will Geddings emerges
from the backstage area to a huge face pop. Geddings has on his normal
black pants with "Eagle" down one leg and "Claw" down the other. He
continues to feature the Victory Lane mask to cover his injured face.
Geddings hops from side to side in the aisle way, slapping hands with
several willing fans. New to this event, Geddings has on a "CL
Memorial Cup" shirt on.]

[Geddings makes it to the ring and runs over to the turnbuckle,
running up it and standing on the top rope. Once there, he motions to
the crowd to increase their already deafening support. Satisfied with
the decibel level, Geddings slowly walks across the top rope and turns
to face the audience, moonsaulting back into the middle of the ring.
Upon his landing...]



  #POP#     #POP#     #POP#     #POP#     #POP#



[The pyros shoot out of the turnbuckles, leaving a haze of smoke.
Geddings claps his hands and runs over to a corner and sits on top,
waiting.]

CL: Both Cassel and Geddings are inside the ring as they await the
Jessica Marshall led monster.

FH: It's almost unfair to give her so much power backing her.  The
deep pockets of SSN and the force of Alex Martinez.   Add in three
slimy lawyers and do you really think they can be stopped?

CL: I guess we will have to ask Jason Keening that.

FH: You had to mention him didn't you.

HD: And our final participant ...  Accompanied to the ring by Jessica
Marshall ...  Standing at seven feet tall and weighing in at three
hundred and fifty pounds ...  Wrestling out of Los Angeles, California
...


The Last American Badass ...


ALEX MARTINEZ !!!


[As the fans begin to go crazy, out steps the massive form of the Last
American Badass.  His expression calm but intense, Alex Martinez
pauses a moment, and then steps forward.  All around him, fans cheer
and scream, hands reaching out to touch his chest and shoulders,
though the stoic Martinez doesn't appear to be aware.  He wears a
black leather jacket, as well as his long black wrestling leggings and
his wrestling books, which look more like biker boots than "proper"
gear.  Both of Martinez' fists are covered in black fingerless gloves,
and his right elbow is covered in a black pad.  Martinez moves up the
stairs, throwing one long leg and then the other over the top rope.
Martinez moves into the center of the ring and stares ahead at
Geddings ... His eyes then slowly moves over to Cassel. He stands
waiting for the bell to ring, waiting for the violence to begin.]

FH: If you put Cassel and Geddings on top of each other do you think
they could take on Alex Martinez?

CL: I guess we will find out!



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
                  06.23.09 Tradition III
                    <><><><><><><><><>
                   Triple Threat Match:
                    <><><><><><><><><>
              Geddings v. Cassel v. Martinez
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


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


CL: There is the bell.  Geddings and Cassel are putting distance
between each other and they begin to circle around the seven footer.

FH: It's going to take more then these two to take Martinez down.

[Cassel is the first to charge in, but Alex Martinez survives the
initial onslaught and drives a big knee to slow him down.  Geddings
springboards off the ropes hoping to take advantage of the distracted
seven footer, but he turns just in time to catch the veteran and
swings
him around using Geddings feet to leg-clothesline Cassel to the mat
and then drops Geddings stomach with little ease right across his knee
for a brutal gut buster.]

CL: Martinez showing his dominance early on...  Cassel up and Martinez
charges with a big boot and OUTSIDE goes Gavin Cassel!

FH: I told you it's going to take more then these two!

[Martinez turns as Geddings is now to his feet but hunched over
holding his stomach ...  The seven footer lifts Geddings back up and
walks him towards the ropes.  Cassel who is back on his feet just has
enough time to look up as Geddings is hurled over the top ropes and
_right_ on top of his friend on the outside!]

CL: Holy crap!

FH: That's right Lester!  Get used to this.  Martinez threw Will
Geddings with ease and he proved to the Flyking that to Fly is human!

[Martinez raises an arm as the fans boo loudly.  Jessica Marshall
looks amused as Katrina Cruz looks on with concern.]

CL: Marshall looks quite pleased.

FH: She should this is the longest Martinez has had to be inside a PVW
ring.  He finished Acorn and Chase off in record timing.

CL: Geddings and Cassel are back on their feet on the outside.  It
appears Geddings is setting a game plan.

FH: There are no time out's in a triple threat match!

CL: Alex Martinez is allowing them time to recover.

FH: There is nothing these two gnats can do to Martinez!

[Geddings and Cassel begin to climb to the ring apron and then to the
turnbuckles on opposite sides ... Martinez now in the center of the
ring and calls for Geddings and Cassel to make their move.]

CL: Martinez is in a potentially bad spot here...  Both Geddings and
Cassel excel by using the ropes to their advantage.

FH: You saw how easily Martinez took care of these to the last time
they stepped inside the ring.  There isn't anything they can do to
harm "The Last American Badass!"

[Cassel leaps into a dropkick that hits Martinez, but does little
damage ... He immediately turns as Geddings leaps ... TILT-A-WHIRL ...
Geddings lands on his feet ... He hits the ropes and Cassel drops to
his knees as Geddings uses his back and fires off _crashing_ right
into the big seven footer!


POP!!!]


CL: DOWN GOES THE SEVEN FOOTER!  Cassel up and SPRINGBOARDS and asai
moonsault right on top of Martinez!




ONE ...




[Martinez kicks out with ease, but as Cassel flies off the seven
footer Geddings springboards and hits an asai moonsault of his own!]



ONE ...




TWO ...




CL: Martinez with another kick out!  The Geddings and Cassel tandem
are now pulling Martinez to his feet.  They are setting him up for a
double suplex .... THEY HAVE HIM UP!!!  ALL SEVEN FOOT THREE HUNDRED
AND FIFTY POUNDS VERTICAL ...


"___THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD___"


[HUGE POP !!!]


FH: This isn't going good at all!

CL: Cassel drops down to make another cover!




ONE ...


[MIXED POP !!!]


CL: Geddings just pulled Cassel off.  He is shaking his head "no".

FH: It's a one fall match.  Geddings can't exactly just let Cassel
win.

[Cassel shrugs and the two men pull Martinez back to his feet.
Martinez starting to catch a little wind begins to fight the two off,
but four fist are faster then two and Geddings and Cassel continue to
hold the upper hand.  They back him up in the corner and send him
across with a big Irish Whip ...  Cassel drops back down to his hands
and knees and Geddings comes racing across and uses his back for
leverage again and leaps ...]


"___CRAAAAAAAASH___"


CL: Here comes Cassel!

[Gavin Cassel runs across and climbs up Martinez.  The fans give the
younger huge support and MONKEY FLIP SENDS MARTINEZ FLYING BACK
TOWARDS THE CENTER OF THE RING!]


"___THUUUUUUUUD___"


CL: The fans are on their feet!  Cassel pulls the big man to his feet
and Geddings with a swinging neckbreaker!  Geddings now hooks a leg!


ONE ...


FH: Cassel pulls Geddings off this time!  HA neither one of these two
can make up their mind who is going to pin Alex Martinez!

CL: Well it'd be a huge career boost for either man.  Martinez has yet
to be pinned in the PVW and imagine having that in your resume?

[This time Geddings shrugs.  The two men waste little time however.
They pull up Alex Martinez and back him up against the ropes.
Geddings leaps up with an enziguri ...]


"___TWAAAAAAAAAAAP___"


CL: Cassel hits the ropes and LEAPING SHINING WIZARD SENDS MARTINEZ
TUMBLING OVER THE TOP ROPES!

FH: Good time for Martinez to take his break.

[The fans are going wild as Cassel and Geddings look at one another
then point towards Alex Martinez on the outside.  Geddings signals for
a dive and bounces off the ropes, but as he goes for the No-Handed
Somersault Plancha and lands right into the chest of Martinez!]


   P V DUB !!!   P V DUB !!!   P V DUB !!!   P V DUB !!!


   P V DUB !!!   P V DUB !!!   P V DUB !!!   P V DUB !!!


   P V DUB !!!   P V DUB !!!   P V DUB !!!   P V DUB !!!


   P V DUB !!!   P V DUB !!!   P V DUB !!!   P V DUB !!!


FH: Of course Geddings isn't as respectful as Martinez.  He gave him a
quick grace period to catch his thoughts and return to the ring.

CL: Cassel is on the top ropes and he is looking down at both Martinez
and Geddings!


   DO IT !!!   DO IT !!!   DO IT !!!   DO IT !!!


   DO IT !!!   DO IT !!!   DO IT !!!   DO IT !!!


   DO IT !!!   DO IT !!!   DO IT !!!   DO IT !!!


   DO IT !!!   DO IT !!!   DO IT !!!   DO IT !!!


[... And he does!  All three men are now down on the outside as the
fans are going absolutely wild!]

CL: Geddings and Cassel's team work and high risk wrestling style has
taken control of this match and Jessica Marshall is livid!

FH: She should be!  Since when does triple threat matches turn into
two on one handicap matches?

CL: When Alex Martinez began headhunting for SSN.

[Cassel and Geddings are slow getting up and this allows the seven
footer some time of his own to regain his senses.  Cassel moves in,
but receives a bone crushing right hand for his efforts.  Geddings
connects with a stiff kick in the midsection, but Martinez turns the
lightweight inside out with a close range half diving short-arm
lariat.  Martinez turns to Cassel and grabs him and slams his head
right into Cassel's with a head butt.]

CL: Martinez mounting a comeback!

FH: You can only keep him off his game for so long.

CL: Martinez has Cassel and he sends him back first towards the side
of the ring ---


"___THUUUUUUUD___"


[The big man charges with a mafia kick and plants Cassel right into
the chops and sends him down to the cement.  Martinez turns around
just in time as Geddings leaps towards him catching him into a
bearhug.  Martinez then spins Geddings around and charges him forward
right towards the ring post ...]


"___SNAAAAAAAAAAAP___"


CL: OH MAN!  Martinez just crushed Geddings back right into that ring
apron.

FH: He could of snapped Geddings back in two!

[Martinez hurls Geddings threw the middle and bottom ropes.  He slowly
walks through the ropes and pulls the veteran up.  He drives a huge
elbow smash to the face area of Geddings, but holds him up and yanks
him up onto his shoulder setting him up for a powerslam and takes off
running ...]


"___THUUUUUUUUUUD___"


ONE ...




TWO ...




THR ---




[YES HE KICKED OUT POP!]




CL: GEDDINGS _JUST_ GOT A SHOULDER UP!  There is a lot of fight in
this fan favorite Fred!

FH: Not for long!

CL: Martinez setting Geddings up ... PILEDRIVER!


"___THUUUUUUUUD___"


[... And Jessica Marshall stands applauding Martinez. The Last
American Badass begins to slowly pull Geddings back to his feet.  He
pulls him head first between his legs and looks to be setting him up
for a Power bomb type position.  He lifts him up into a crucifix  ....
However Gavin Cassel is perched on the top ropes!  Martinez has
Geddings up high in the air and Cassel leaps off with a missile
dropkick hitting Martinez square in the chest and Geddings slides down
to the mat out of the crucifix position!   Cassel up and hits the
ropes ... SUNSET FLIP -- ]




ONE ...




TWO ...




[HEEL KICK OUT POP!]




CL: Cassel hits the ropes again!  Martinez is up ... TILT-A-WHIRL ...


[COUNTER POP!!!!]


FH: What is going on here?

CL: HEADSCISSORS TAKE DOWN! Martinez is now back but he eats a sharp
left hand by Cassel!



"___WHAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!___"


[He sets up for his leaping ace crusher called the G-Spot, but
Martinez shoves Cassel off into the ropes.  Martinez catches him into
a belly-to-belly and tosses him backwards and _head_ first into the
corner of the ring!]

FH: HA! Martinez crushed Cassel into that corner!

CL: GEDDINGS IS UP!!!  SPRINGBOARDS ... DROPKICK!  He hits the ropes
... ROCKER DROPPER!


[HELL YEAH POP!!!]


FH: So we are back to this two on one stuff I see.

CL: I don't think it has ever ended Fred.

[Geddings is now quickly climbing back to the top ropes as big
Martinez isn't on the mat for long ... Geddings leaps ... HURRICARANA
AND HOOKS THE LEGS!]




ONE ...




TWO ...




[MIXED POP, as Cassel shockingly breaks the cover.]




FH: Well the honey moon had to end some time Lester!

CL: Geddings is now looking at Cassel asking him what the problem is!

FH: What is he retarded?  There can only be one winner.

[FIST BEGIN FLYING!!!  Geddings ducks under and hits the ropes and
comes off with a flying body press!]




ONE ...




TWO ...




CL: Close call, but a kick out by Cassel!  Both men are quickly back
up and this time Cassel ducks under a big right and hits the ropes ...
SUNSET FLIP!




ONE ...




TWO ...




[ANOTHER KICK OUT POP!]


CL: Fred this match is getting exciting!

FH: Martinez is now over in the corner and he is just watching.

[Both men are back to their feet and Cassel with a discus lariat and
Geddings goes over the top ropes, but stays on his feet!  Cassel
springboards off the top ropes ... Geddings leaps with a dropkick as
Cassel is flying in mid-air and connects right into Cassel as both men
hit the cement _hard_!]

CL: Listen to these fans they are roaring!

FH: The idiots don't they see that Alex Martinez is now up and
standing inside the ring.

CL: Not for long he is headed back outside the ring.

FH: This spells trouble for Cassel and Geddings.

[Martinez yanks Geddings up first.  He drives big forearms keeping the
veteran dazed and lifts him up and walks him towards the guard
rail...]

CL: NO HE ISN'T ...


"___CLAAAAANG___"


[EGADS HEEL POP!!!]


FH: Throat first on the guard rail!  That will shut the Flyking up!


[HERO POP!!!]


CL: CASSEL UNLOADING ON MARTINEZ!

[Cassel grabs Martinez and charges him towards the ring and under the
ropes sending the big man back into the ring.]

FH: It's going to take something big to put Alex Martinez out.

CL: Cassel is taking the top padding of the turnbuckle off!  It looks
like Cassel is looking to finish this!

[Martinez is now stumbling back up ... spinning leg lariat by Cassel
stumbles Martinez backwards and Cassel grabs Martinez into his G-Spot
hold and charges towards that exposed turnbuckle ... Martinez shoves
Cassel off at the last moment and into that exposed area ... Martinez
shoots his big right hand out around Cassel's throat ... Martinez
lifts Gavin Cassel up by the neck, as if going for a choke slam.
Martinez slams him forward --- RIGHT INTO THAT EXPOSED TURNBUCKLE AND
THROUGH IT ... dropping him onto his back between Martinez' legs, as
in a power bomb, putting him in pinning position into the corner ...]


"___TWAAAAAAAAAAK___"


"___THUUUUUUUUD___"


[GASPING HEEL POP!!!]


ONE ...




TWO ...




THREE !!!




CL: OH MY GOD ... Firebomb Choke slam _through_ the exposed turnbuckle
and into the corner of the ring.  Cassel is completely out of it.

FH: He could be hurt Lester.

CL: Geddings who is holding his throat area still gasping to breathe
air as normal is now under the ropes and checking on his friend.

FH: I warned you Lester.  You just don't mess with Alex Martinez.  He
had orders to teach these two a lesson and it looks like he sent Will
Geddings a message through his friend Gavin Cassel.

CL: Listen to the crowd they are stunned silence.

FH: This is the quietest I've heard this arena all night.

[Will Geddings is kneeled down with the officials.  It's obvious
Cassel
is hurt.  The referee is calling for EMT's to come down.  Geddings
glares up and Martinez just looks down with a big smile across his
face.]

FH: Cassel is the one who removed that exposed turnbuckle and he was
aiming to put Martinez out with his finishing move... Well it
backfired and now Cassel has booked him a trip to the local hospital.

CL: Look at Geddings face.  There is mixed emotions of rage and
concern.  With Zero Tolerance in effect he has to contain them.

[Jessica Marshall joins Alex Martinez in the center of the ring as
Katrina Cruz now has tears in her eyes as Geddings puts his arm around
her shoulder trying to comfort her.]

CL: Alex Martinez has continue to rip through the PVW.  I hope Jessica
Marshall and the rest of the SSN is happy.  Gavin Cassel a youngster
in this sport was finally finding his own.  A strong pact and
friendship made with Will Geddings and those two together were winning
over the hearts and fans in every arena together.

FH: Hey it happens in this sport and let this be a warning to everyone
who steps in a PVW ring with Alex Martinez.  This guy is for real!

[Martinez and Marshall leave the ring to a silent and stunned crowd.
A few jeers come out as he passes the fans.  EMT's are now strapping
Cassel down to a stretched as the youngster is still out of hit.]

CL: Will Geddings is now on his feet and just glaring at Martinez and
Marshall as they stop half way up the aisle way.

[Martinez is looking right back at Geddings inside the ring.  The
words come from the seven footer - "You're next".]

FH: Chilling message from "The Last American Badass."  If I was
Geddings I would get he hell out of dodge.

CL: Geddings has fought monsters in this sport many of times.
Martinez is as mean as they come, but you can bet Geddings wont back
down.

FH: There has been a lot of pain thus far tonight.  From Greg Bull's
arm to Gavin Cassel.

CL: Tonight has a PPV feel and everyone is bringing their A game.

[The loud chords of an old fashion church organ is heard over the PA
system interupting the announcers.  After a few moments a young
teenage boy steps out with a collections plate in hand.  The fan's
aren't quite sure what to think as a middle aged man decked out in a
tailor-made white suit joins him.  The good book under his right arm
the Reverend begins to walk down the aisle way stopping sporadically
to grab a dollar bill and place it in the collections plate.

The two reach ring side and the young boy stands near the guard rail
with the plate extended accepting any and _all_ donations.  Reverend
Julian Caine gives a final wave to the crowd and enters the ring with
a wireless microphone in hand.]

RJC: It's a glorious night here in Chicago!  It's always a glorious
night when we can preach the good word of the lord.  I promised you
all I would make it out here to preach the gospel ...  However we need
your help.  I can't do this alone.  Young Jacob will be walking around
and this is your time to help.

[The young teenage boy who has been called Jacob by the Reverend
approaches the crowd with the plate.]

RJC: Give what you can ...  Our lord's words will not be silenced.
Zero Tolerance is alive and well here in the PVW and Saint Jason
Keening has paved the way for us all to follow.

[Big POP at the mention of Jason Keening.  The Reverend smiles and
assumes it's for him and he continues.]

RJC: Your hard earned money will be the fuel the lords message needs
to reach the world.  We are on a crusade ... A crusade against the
Devil's plan.

[Across the PVW-tron a picture of Spectre is seen.  A blood thirsty
look sits in his eyes with blood dripping from his teeth.]

RJC: Spectre plagued this ring for months.  His demonic ways possessed
you fans.  They drove men away and drug others down to his level.  Our
OWN Champion Rob Cole sleeps haunted because of the Spectre's _DEVIL_
message.

[BOO's rain down at the mention of Rob Cole.]

RJC: That's right boo the devil's work!  Boo his evil plan!  We stand
by Jason Keening and Zero Tolerance and with your generous offerings
we will stand next to our fearless leader and _ALL_ together we will
defeat his evil ways.

[The camera picks up on Jacob passing by the fans.  Every so often
some change or a lone dollar bill will be tossed into the plate, but
let's be honest these are wrestling fans.  They would rather buy a
warm beer and three day old hotdog!]

RJC: I am here to perform an exorcism .... To remove those who stand
up against GOD! To Silence words of the devil in the form of a Spectre
or a Demon Shadow himself...  With Jason Keening's holy gauntlet of
Zero Tolerance ...  Me speaking the words of the LORD HIMSELF ... And
your generous offerings we will go a long way ... We will bring a
REVELATION itself down on the evilness that continues to plague the
PVW and this world.

[The camera picks up a fan yawning ... I think the "holy" word has run
it's path.]

RJC: Together we will _SMITE_ the violence and send the demons back
down to the pits of hell!

[And with that the Reverend raises the good book as the organ notes
blare again.  He slowly leaves the ring and heads down the ring steps
and joins Jacob as they pass the fans urging donations in the form of
"large" green bills.]

CL: I just don't know what to say.

FH: Did you give to the good word Lester?

CL: Well I do every sunday at Mass.

FH: I thought you were in full support of Zero Tolerance and Jason
Keening.

CL: I am but ...

FH: Aah I see you are just a cheap skate.

CL: Moving right a long ...

FH: Hey the lord knows Lester.

CL: Those sneaky lawyers have given us an interesting match here
tonight with a chance of having new PVW tag team champions.

FH: The PVW tag team titles have sort of been a hot bed thus far with
four teams already holding them.  Why not!?!

CL: Well it's no secret that the PVW has the best tag team division
any league has had in quite some time.

FH: There you go being a company shill again.

CL: Do you disagree?

FH: Now that we have added PAIN ... However the Wild Cards sorta dim
the shine though.

[Herk Douglas stands in the center of the ring as he awaits the que.]

HD: Ladies and gentlemen this bout is a four way tag team match with
the PVW tag team titles on the line.  However in order for the titles
to change hands a member of the current championship team _must_ be
pinned or submitted ...


[OMG Championship match POP!!!]


FH: With Livestock, Gutch, and the Prophets in this match it's only a
matter of time until one of the Urban Legends is put to sleep!

CL: Don't count out Jokers Wild they have been on quite a
transformation as of late.

FH: It's just odd not seeing them on Damage Control.  Who invited them
to the big stage?

[The Offspring's 'Hammerhead' starts to play over the house speakers.]


HD: Introducing first the first challenging team ...  Wrestling at a
combined weight of four-hundred and twenty five pounds ... The team of
-


'El Salvaje' Joseph Rizal Estrada and Harley Quinn O'Connor


Jokers Wild !!!


# I AM THE ONE #
# CAMOUFLAGE AND GUNS #
# RISK MY LIFE #
# TO KEEP MY PEOPLE FROM HARM #

[Harley Quinn O'Connor emerges from the backstage area, with his face
painted like a clown's, with black face paint over a white base, and
dressed in a pair of black tights, with an image of a grinning clown's
face, in red on a white base, on the outside of the left leg and a
Joker playing card on the outside of the right, and black wrestling
boots. 'El Salvaje' Joseph Rizal Estrada emerges behind him dressed in
street clothes.]

# AUTHORITY #
# VESTED IN ME #
# I SACRIFICE #
# WITH MY BROTHERS IN ARMS #

[O'Connor raises his arms, circling and pumping his fist in the air as
he makes his way to the ring. Along the way, he high-fives and slaps
hands with the fans on either side of the aisle. Estrada just follows
wordlessly. As he nears the ringside area, O'Connor takes a running
start and slides under the bottom rope, into the ring. He pops quickly
back up and raises both his arms in the air. As the music starts to
fade, O'Connor paces about near his corner, awaiting the start of the
match, while Estrada remains on the outside.]

CL: Jokers Wild has been a streaky team here in the PVW, but tonight
they have a chance of a life time.  All they have to do is defeat
either Stalker of Semi and they can become the PVW tag team champions!

FH: That would be like the Cubs actually winning the world series.
Nearly _impossible_!

CL: You aren't going to make many friends here in Chicago saying that.

HD: The second set of challengers ...

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

["Breaking the Law" by Judas Priest plays, and with no lighting
effects, no fanfare, just the words "Livestock and the Gutch" on the
PVW video screen, a pair of big men in business suits carrying
briefcases emerge from the entrance portal.]

#all inside it's so frustrating as I drift from town to town.#

#Feel as though nobody cares if I live or die,#

[The Gutch stops just outside the portal and begins doing what can
only be called a "Stupid white man dance".  He calls it "The Gootch
Bartilootch." Livestock just looks the other way, pretending that he
doesn't have an idiot for a partner.]

#so I might as well begin to put some action in my life#

#Breaking the law, breaking the law!#

HD: Accompanied to the ring by Broderick Ezekiel Craven...

[At this, they begin walking down the aisle.]

#Breaking the law, breaking the law!#

#Breaking the law, breaking the law!#

[Still walking.]

#Breaking the law, breaking the law!#

HD: They weigh in tonight at a combined weight of 675 pounds, this is
the team of -


LIVESTOCK and THE GUTCH!



[Aaand they reach the ring.  Saints be praised.]


FH: This is a big chance for Livestock and The Gutch.  You can bet
Zeke has them geared up for this.  Time to bring a little gold back to
SSN!

CL: They have just about as good of a chance as anyone.

FH: Well better if we are talking about Jokers Wild, but like I said
they don't count.

CL: I think you are in for a rude awakening Fred.

FH: Well I guess it _could_ be worse.  The Wild Cards could be
involved.  Thankfully we have a few doctors taking care of them.

CL: These are only four of PVW's great tag teams ...  Made Men and the
Wild Cards aren't even involved.

FH: Or PAIN!

CL: Or Canadian Legacy ... Apache Blood for that matter.

FH: We really do rule.

HD: And our final set of challengers ... They are a former PVW tag
team championship.  They are considered one of wrestlers legendary tag
teams ...

FH: Listen up Lester he speaks the truth.

CL: I've never argued against the Prophets credentials.

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


Shadoe and Derek Rage ...


The Prophets of Rage !!!


["The Death March" begins to play over the PA system.  Pizzazz Elysee
is the first to emerge from the back ...]

FH: The Prophets mean business.  Their grudge with Urban Legends may
never be over with.

CL: I think the feeling is most likely mutual.

[Derek Rage strides out from behind the curtains and joins Pizzazz
Elyseee.  He wears a boxer's robe with the hood up over his head.  He
looks like a giant Grim Reaper.

Next to join the party is the other Shadoe Rage. In sharp contrast to
the dirge, Rage is animated. He wears his sparkling sequined cloak. He
throws out his arms, flourishing to the dirge's heavy beat.

The trio head to the ring, Derek Rage walks with slow deliberate steps
he marches towards the ring.  His face betrays no expression. As
Shadoe Rage comes to the ring. He pulls of his sunglasses and hands
them to a child at ringside. His eyes burn with an almost inhuman
fever.]

CL: Six men stand in their corners as they await the PVW tag team
champions.

FH: Soon to be _former_ tag team champions.

CL: They have to be beaten first.

HD: And our final team!


[WOOO URBAN LEGEND POP!!!]


HD: At a combined weight of five-hundred and seventy five pounds ...

The PVW TAG TEAM _CHAMPIONS_!!!!


JOHNNY STYLES and SEMI ...


URBAN LEGEND !!!


[An almost morbid classical piece fades in over the loudspeaker,
reaching a short climax... and is abruptly cut off by a screeching
guitar riff as FM Revolver's "Black Dove" blasts over the P.A. system.
A broad red-tinged light provides ambiance to the entranceway as the
crowd waits.

  I actually find myself in doubt; it's just a general state...
  Nothing so trying as to make a mistake, but enough to keep me
  tempted...

[First out, a feminine but tall figure steps out, her short-cropped
brown hair in disarray, save two long bangs framing her face.  A
sleeveless black T-shirt shows a stylized red and white logo reading,
"Enjoy the Abuse."  Plain blue jeans and boots cover the lower half,
and a variant of Johnny Styles' leather duster drapes it all.

  A spread starlet that wears your face with unforgivable
  placement... A black dove, a clay decor invented to keep that cut
  newborn...

[A figure about Saraphina's height steps out next, starting a ripple
pop through the crowd.  A red-teared black mask covers most of his
face, and his hair is tied back in a loose ponytail.  Calf-high,
buckled and steel-toed boots wrap around black jeans.  Torn at the
sleeves, a black T-shirt bears the logo of former tag team and
PCWF owners Richard Anderson and Madcap -- Platinum Strapped.  After a
mutual look, they step apart to make room.

  And if I tell you what I want,
  Does it burden you or shake me?
  Does it mirror what I need,
  Or does that knowledge let you haunt me?

[Bringing up the rear, to a more endearing pop, the towering Semi
lifts both arms up in the air, greeting the crowd.  The normally
jovial look on Semi's face is replaced with a slightly sardonic
smile, waiting what's to come.  Faded gray pants, a black tank top and
combat boots (with a disturbing number of zippers) mark Semi's roughly
standard attire.  As Semi steps between them, the three quickly begin
towards the ring with the PVW tag team champions sitting proudly
around their waist.]

CL: A focused look on the faces of the PVW tag team champions.  Urban
Legend has had a roller coaster trip thus far here in the PVW.  They
faced their rivals Royalty and then embarked on a year or more feud
with the Prophets of the Rage.

FH: Witch the Prophets put these two clowns on the shelf for a good
amount of time.  If we are lucky they will do it again here tonight.

CL: Remember the rules are a tad-bit unique in this four way tag team
match.  You can tag _anyone_ into the match.  We could even see
partners square off.

FH: Imagine Semi vs Johnny Styles!  That would be great.

CL: It is possible ... Even The Gutch vs Livestock.

FH: That isn't as great.

CL: The first one to score a pinfall or submission wins the match.
_HOWEVER_ the tag team titles can only shift hands if one of the Urban
Legend members are pinned.

FH: What happens if Semi pins Stalker?

CL: Good question ...


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
                  06.23.09 Tradition III
                    <><><><><><><><><>
                    Tag Championship:
                    <><><><><><><><><>
           Urban Legend v. Prophets of Rage v.
           Livestock & The Gutch v. Jokers Wild
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


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


CL: There is the bell and neither team appears to want to step out of
the ring.  Referee Jay O'Riley is standing in the middle and it looks
like he is going to have to make this choice.

[Before he has too Stalker and Semi quickly step out.]

FH: Those cowards!

CL: Actually it was a brilliant move on their part.  They don't have
to win this match.  They only have to ensure they aren't pinned.

FH: Some fighting champions they are.

[With Urban Legend stepping out Livestock and The Gutch step out
leaving the Prophets and Jokers Wild.  After a twenty seconds or so we
finally work our way down to Shadoe Rage and just as 'El Salvaje'
Joseph Rizal Estrada leaves the ring ... Shadow Rage jumps Harley
Quinn O'Connor from behind with a sucker punch.]


"___THWAAAP___"


CL: That noise usually means the match is under way!

FH: It also means someone got their clock cleaned.

CL: Shadow Rage is laying into Harley Quinn O'Connor with right hands.
The wild man of the Rage brothers lands a solid kick to O'Connor's
mid-
section and tosses him off the ropes.

[O'Connor rebounds off the ropes towards Shadoe Rage who rolls forward
in a rolling thunder fashion only to run into a clothesline from
Harley Quinn O'Connor witch gets the first pop of the fans of the
match.]

CL: Shadoe Rage was looking to get flashy early and he was turned
nearly inside out by the Joker Wild.   Harley Quinn O'Connor now
lifting Shadoe Rage up and drops down with a jawbreaker sending the
Prophet backwards and Livestock tags himself in.

FH: Let's see if the lawyer can fair a bit better in there.

[Shadoe gives Livestock a glare when he finally comes too from the
jawbreaker, but the referee is calling it an official tag and
Livestock and O'Connor lock up in the center of the ring.  Livestock
with a quick arm-wrench and holds O'Connor's arm.  He turns and drops
an elbow down and backs Livestock up against the ropes ...]

CL: Livestock sending Harley Quinn O'Connor across ... O'Connor DUCKS
a clothesline and tags in his partner 'El Salvaje' Joseph Rizal
Estrada!  Livestock totally unaware of the tag scoops O'Connor up with
ease for a powerslam ...


"___THUUUUD___"


[Livestock then leaps back to his feet just in time to catch a
spinning heel kick from Estrada!  Livestock quickly leaps back up and
Estrada with an armdrag takedown!]

FH: Sure it takes two Jokers Wild to take Livestock down.  Real tag
team champion material right there!

CL: Well this is a tag _team_ match Fred.  Estrada now has the arm of
Livestock and he works his way back towards the turnbuckles.  Estrada
climbs to the second turnbuckle and leaps off with a head-scissors ...
NO Livestock holds on and POWER BOMB COUNTER!


"___THUUUUUD___"




ONE ...




TWO ...




[KICK OUT POP!!!]


FH: A mistake by 'El Salvaje' Joseph Rizal Estrada.

CL: Jokers Wild is the wild card team of this match.  They have been
on a roll recently and have really taken advantage of the
opportunities they have been given.  Could they be the new PVW tag
team champions?

FH: Unlikely as Livestock tags in the BIG Gutch!

[BOOOOOO!]

CL: Chicago doesn't seem to like Gutch all that much.

FH: Well you know the Chicago restaurant owners are a big fan of the
Gutch when he is in town.

[Zeke cheers is boys on ... Livestock lifts Estrada up for a big
suplex and drops him down hard... The Gutch hits the ropes and leaps
with a big SPLASH ...]




ONE ...




TWO ...




CL: NO!  Shadoe Rage in quickly to break the pin.

FH: Smart move on his part ... He also probably did Livestock and The
Gutch a favor.  Pinning Jokers Wild does nobody any good.

CL: Except probably names the winner the official number one
contender.  The Gutch pulls Estrada up who RIFLES off a series of kick
right into that big gut of Gutch!

FH: What he should have been flattened like pancake.  Check that guy's
testosterone level.

[Estrada hits the ropes and leaps into his butt flying hip attack ...
And The Gutch stumbles backwards.  Estrada hits the ropes again and
leaps, but this time the Gutch _CATCHES_ the 180 pounds 'El Salvaje'
and begins squeezing the life out of him with a bear hug.]

CL: Estrada started a fierce come back and hit the famous, Ass
Attack.

FH: What good did that do?  Now the 180 pounder is being squeezed away
by Gutch.

CL: Estrada is in trouble as Urban Legend cheer him on.

FH: Oh sure cheer on Jokers Wild when you are too cowardly to get
inside the ring and defend those titles!

CL: Hey they haven't turned down a tag yet Fred.

FH: Just wait ... I know their kind!

[Estrada begins to fight out at the urging of the fans... He reaches
back with his head and slams it forward with a head butt.  This forces
the Gutch to let the 180 pounder slump out of his arms ... He hits a
standing dropkick that only pushes the Gutch backwards in reach of
Derek Rage to tag himself in...  Estrada who had already springboarded
nails a _tornado_ DDT on the Gutch as the fans roar!  He hooks a leg,
but Jay O'Riley is pointing to the seven footer standing in the ring.]

CL: Estrada doesn't realize that Derek Rage is the legal man inside
the ring.

FH: This doesn't look good for Estrada!

CL: Derek Rage reaches down and pulls up Estrada ... TILT-A-WHIRL ....


"___THUUUUUUUUUUUD___"


FH: PILE F'N DRIVER!




ONE ...




TWO ...




[SEMI BROKE UP THE COUNT POP!!!]




FH: Well looky here...

CL: Apparently you were a bit wrong about Urban Legend after all Fred.

[Derek Rage just nods his head as he lifts Estrada up with ease and
drops him hard with a free falling gut-buster.  Estrada rolls on the
ground holding his mid-section in pain.  Derek Rage slaps in Shaode
Rage ...]

CL: Shadoe is climbing to the second ropes as Derek pulls Estrada up
again ... BACKBREAKER ....

FH: Shadoe leaps off ...

CL: ELBOW ACROSS THE THROAT OF ESTRADA!

FH: The Prophets are now just toying with Estrada sending Urban Legend
a message.

CL: Shadoe Rage is up and hits the ropes ... He leaps with a STOMP ...
OH GOD!!!


[GROOOOOOANING HEEL POP!!!]


FH: In the ball sack! HAHAHA!

CL: How in the heck would you find that amusing Fred?

FH: The look on your face is worth it!

[Every male watching can feel the pain as Estrada rolls on the mat
screaming.  Referee Jay O'Riley seems to be warning Shadoe Rage, but
it's going on deaf ears.  Semi and Stalker shake their heads as Shadoe
Rage begins to climb the ropes ...]

CL: Shadoe Rage is quite dangerous on those ropes.  He is one of the
most underrated wrestlers possibly in the wrestling industry.  Not
only has he had amazing success in his tag team career, but he has
held a very strong solo career too.  He is setting up for an moonsault
...


"___THUUUUUUUD___"


[HUGE LAUGHING POP!!!]


FH: WHAT THE HECK REF!!! STALKER GRABBED HIS LEG!!!

[And what Fred Hoyle said was indeed true.  He set up for a moonsault
and right before he could leap, Stalker was able to grab Shadoe Rage's
leg and he missed his target by quite some time.  Both men are laying
on the mat and crawling across the way to tag ...]

CL: Estrada is getting close ... SEMI REACHES THROUGH!!!


[TEAR DOWN THE ROOF TAGGING POP!!!]


FH: Livestock makes the tag too!

[Semi and Livestock come roaring into the ring.	 Semi blocks a right
and just UNLOADS.  Livestock is pushed back and sent across with a
ring shaking Irish Whip.  Semi charges in with a short-arm
clothesline.  He grabs Livestock and sends him across with another
short-arm clothesline.  The Gutch comes charging in and Semi SCOOPS
the 410 pounds of pure "muscle" up and slams him down!


ROARING POP!!!]

CL: SEMI IS UNLOADING ON THE LAWYERS!

FH: He invited him in the ring?

CL: Wait Fred ... First you complained because he wasn't a fighting
champion and now you are complaining because he is in the ring
fighting?

[Semi tags in Stalker and the two send the Gutch up through the ropes
and to the outside and then Livestock.  The Gutch stumbles to his feet
just in time to look up ... Slingshot Splash by STALKER!!!!]

CL: Semi points and takes off running ....

FH: He isn't ...

CL: HE IS!


[HELL YES POP FOLLOWED BY A ...]


   P V DUB !!!   P V DUB !!!   P V DUB !!!   P V DUB !!!   P V DUB !!!


   P V DUB !!!   P V DUB !!!   P V DUB !!!   P V DUB !!!   P V DUB !!!


   P V DUB !!!   P V DUB !!!   P V DUB !!!   P V DUB !!!   P V DUB !!!


CL: TWO CAR PILE UP BY URBAN LEGEND!

FH: Look at the Rage brothers ... They are plotting while these morons
put their bodies on the line for no reason.

CL: Semi and Stalker roll the legal man, Livestock under the ropes.
Stalker quickly back in and onto the second rope .... Fist Drop!  THE
COVER!




ONE ...




TWO ...




THR ---




[BOOOO! SHOULDER UP!]



CL: Close call, but Livestock fired a shoulder up at the last second.
Stalker tags Harley Quinn O'Connor back in and then turns where Gutch
is on the outside finally up from the earlier action and takes off
again ... Slingshot Splash AGAIN AND RIGHT ON THE GUTCH!!!


[TAKE THAT EGG FARTING FAT BASTARD OUT POP!!!]



FH: What the hell is going on around here?

CL: Urban Legend has _unloaded_ on Livestock and The Gutch.  The
lawyers have been running their mouths on Urban Legend for quite some
time.  Finally the tag team champions are RESPONDING!

FH: Good the more they do the more Zeke will have against them.  You
never want to piss off three lawyers and a corporation juggernaut.

[Harley Quinn O'Connor is in the ring and Livestock is on his feet ...
Forward Russian leg sweep ...]

CL: Last laugh and the cover!




ONE ...




TWO ...




THR ---




FH: NO! Shadoe Rage breaks it up!

CL: 'El Salvaje' Joseph Rizal Estrada!!!

[Estrada charges in with a thrust kick sending Shadoe Rage -through-
the ropes.  O'Connor tags in Estrada as he returns back outside.  They
grab Livestock and this time a double forward Russian leg sweep ...]


"___THUUUUUUUD___"



CL: Jokers Wild have unloaded inside the ring.	Livestock is now
getting up as Estrada backs himself up... STEP UP ENZUIGIR ...


"___THWAAAAAP___"


[Derek Rage slaps Livestock's shoulder as he tumbles up and over the
top ropes.  Stalker is still going at it with the Gutch on the outside
and Semi has dropped down to even the score with Livestock on the
outside.]

FH: Big Derek Rage is stepping in ...

CL: Estrada BIG Jumping spin kick!!!  Derek is stunned!

['El Salvaje's' breaks out in his signature knife edge chop, throat
strike, Mongolian chop and side kick combo and FINALLY the seven
footer is taken down!  Shadoe Rage now has returned in and a double-
axe handle on the mid-back of Estrada, but Harley Quinn O'Connor
charges in and tackles him _through_ the ropes!]

CL: SIX MEN ARE ON THE OUTSIDE!  CHAOS HAS ERRUPTED!

FH: Did you expect much different Lester?

CL: No this is the PVW tag team division.  It's _always_ been chaotic!

[Estrada is now climbing the ropes.  He is signaling for his flying
forearm smash ... Big Derek Rage stumbles up ... Estrada leaps forearm
ready ...]

CL: DEREK RAGE CATCHES THE 180 POUND ESTRADA WITH THAT BIG HAND ...
CLAWHOLD!!!!


[GASSSSSPING HEEL POP!!!]


"___THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD___"


FH: Hand of God!!!




ONE ...




TWO ...




THREE !!!



CL: Prophets of Rage have won this match.  However they pinned Estrada
so the titles stay on Urban Legend, but they just made their case
cemented that they _again_ are the tag team to deal with in the PVW.

FH: Did you ever doubt them?

[Semi and Stalker roll in realizing the match is over.  They look down
at Estrada and then across at Derek Rage who stands motioning that the
tag team titles will be his.  Shadoe Rage joins his partner as the
Prophets raise their hands in victory.]

CL: Look at Zeke he isn't happy at all.  This was the lawyers chance
to make a statement.  They always get ever so close, but this time the
Prophets _again_ make a statement.

FH: Those damn Urban Legend sacrificed themselves in eliminating
Livestock and The Gutch from the match.  They never cared about
winning the match anyways.  What a crock!

CL: You could make a case that Urban Legend was the most dominating
team in this match.

FH: Then you'd be wrong.  Look who's hands are raised Lester.

[Todd Johnstone, in an asphalt burn reddish black suit with burning
cross orange tie and landfill burnt umber tie with his brown belt from
Sears and silver tipped black cane, is sitting behind a card table,
reading notes and listening on one of two cellulars in his grubby
hands. A door swings open and Johnstone looks up.]

TJ: Gibby, good to see you... nice cast.

[Yes folks, it is Gibson Hayes.]

GH: Did you make the call?

TJ: Of course. They should be here momen... well, well, well, if it
isn't Harry Paulmwelle IV...

[The camera switches over to show three men standing in the doorway.
One of them is about 30 years old with bleach blonde hair and a
striking, harsh visual line suit with a pastor's collar around his
neck. The man standing to the right of this man is silver haired but
looks much too young to be fully gray. He is in a a spare black
suit and looks very unhappy to be with the lead man. The person on the
left is wiry, brown haired and in a baby blue suit two sizes too big.]

HPIV: Please, call me Jubel. My father was Harry...

TJ: And now he's in prison.

[This elicitis a huff from Jubel.]

JP: Yes, yes, that's all well and good. Anyhow, we are here to make a
campaign contribution to Mr. Hayes.

[Gibson's eyes light up.]

GH: That's what I like to hear. How much are you forking over?

[Jubel reaches into his jacket and pulls out a check, handing it over
to Todd.]

JP: I believe that should be sufficient for the time being.

[Johnstone smiles; it is not a pretty thing.]

TJ: It'll do for now, you bible peddling, smut dealer.

JP: Art. I deal in high end art on the side. After that whole [TV
EDIT] debacle that landed my father in prison and lead the Righteous
Alliance of Pastors and Evangelicals into the maw of the federal
government, I was wary of going down this whole wrestling path again.
However, your boy has shown me that there are viewers willing to
listen to our message and we need to fill the pews with followers
again, so let's hope this alliance is to our mutual benefit.

[Johnstone beams, his yellow teeth bared more like fangs than in an
actual smile.]

TJ: So what's with the two stiffs?

JP: Pat and Orel are here to ensure my investment goes well. You'll
find them useful. You can't have too many aces in a deck.

GH: Tell that to Tyrone. Last time we played poker his hand was 11
aces. Damned cheater.

TJ: Anyhow, thank you for your contribution to the Gibson Hayes
Commissioner Recount Fund. We'll get that Keening insect out of PVW as
fast as we can and we'll deliver, um, your Lord's message down the
throats of all those folks you guys molest or
whatever.

[Just then, Big Bubba Hayes stomps in.]

BBH: Boss, I got ya sh[TV EDIT]. What'chu want with some damn electric
robes anyhow?

[Cut]

CL: Electric robes??

FH: Don't ask.

CL: Well what a night it's been thus far folks.  We have seen battles
fought.  We saw Johnny Detson in the PVW!

FH: Who cares he picked the wrong side.

CL: We still have _two_ big matches left.

FH: Tonight is Gibson Hayes night!

CL: Next up is one of PVw's most personal feuds.  This match has made
it through End Game and Boiling Point and finally here tonight it ends
when one man says "I quit!"

FH: You won't hear those words come from Nick Wright's mouth!

CL: What about War Games?

FH: I think he just saw stars there.

[Herk Douglas raises the microphone to his mouth.]

HD: It's time for our _respect_ match.


[HUUUUUUGE POP!!!]


CL: The fans have been waiting for this for a long time!

FH: So have I!  Seeing Levinger cry while her little phenom crawls
bloodied and bruised away from Wright screaming "I quit" is going to
be awesome!

CL: You have been putting _way_ too much thought into this.

FH: I won't lie a crying Levinger does sort of excite me.

CL: ....

["Party Hard" by Andrew W.K hits the PA system.]

HD: Introducing first ...  Representing the Widowmakers Inc.
Wrestling out of Atlantic City, New Jersey ... Standing at five feet
eleven and weighing in at two-hundred and fifteen pounds ...

He is one half of the Made Men ...


NICK "ALWAYS" WRIGHT !!!


[When the music's opening beat drops, Nick comes bursting onto the
entrance stage.  Visibly pumped, he solicit reactions from the crowd
before breaking off into a sprint toward the ring, where he pulls
himself up, enters the ring, and perches on the nearest turnbuckle,
beating his chest.]

CL: Wright looks ready.  This will be his first match since being
injured at Boiling Point.  You have to wonder if there will be any
ring rust?

FH: It's not like Ryder has had a whole lot of action since Masterson
sent him a message and left him healthy last Heatwave.

CL: You have a point.

FH: Damn right I do Lester.  You are talking to Fred Hoyle here.

CL: Ooookay ...

HD: His opponent ... Wrestling out of Norfolk, Virginia!   Standing at
five feet nine and weighing in at one-hundred and ninety five pounds
... Accompanied to the ring by "Lady" Laurel Levinger ...


THE PHENOM ...


TOMMY RYDER !!!


["Obsession" by Animotion hits the PA system ...]

CL: Here comes the most popular lady in PVW!

FH: Jessica Marshall?

[She walks down to ringside to present Tommy, posing with one arm
pointing to the entrance and the other in the air ...]

CL: Listen to these fans they are ready for the PHENOM!

FH: I thought we went over this last show.

CL: Let's not.  SSN received a handful of complaints from your
comments already.

FH: I doubt they are due to me.  People are probably tired of you
boring them to death Lester.

[A slight pause and then ... "Headstrong" by Trapt rocks the arena as
"The Phenom" Tommy Ryder hops out from the back.  The fans erupt in a
massive pop for the youngster  Trotting to the ring, he pumps his arms
and shakes hands with as many of the fans as he can reach.  He stops
as he reaches the outside of the ring and stares at Nick Wright who
stands daring Ryder to enter the ring ...  Ryder returns the dare as
he calls for Wright to bring it and the Widowmaker takes off running
and launches himself as a missile through the ropes and _right_ on top
of Ryder crumbling both men to the outside floor starting the match
...




HOLY CRAP POP!!!!]



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
                  06.23.09 Tradition III
                    <><><><><><><><><>
                      I Quit Match:
                    <><><><><><><><><>
                     Ryder v. Wright
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


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


CL: What a way to start the match and there is the sound of the bell!
Wright is now pulling up Tommy Ryder and pounds away at the Phenom.

[The crowd boo's Wright to holy-hell as his tag team partner The
Pokerface slowly makes his way down full of smiles as Levinger looks
up at him with both eyes.]

CL: What is he doing down here?

FH: Just evening up the odds Lester.  Don't get your panties in a knot
over there.

[Nick wright continues to beat mercilessly away on Ryder and throws
Wright shoulder-first into the guard rail ...  Wright backs up and
mounts the ring apron, challenging Ryder to get up ...]

FH: See look at Wright.  He is a nice guy!

CL: Wright takes off running down the ring apron .... DIVING INTO A
CLOTHESLINE ...


"___CLAAAAAAAAAAAAANG___"


[HELL YEAH POP!!!]


[... NO, Ryder ducks and Wright landed gut-first on the guard rail,
then falls over into the crowd.]


   R Y D E R  ! ! !   R Y D E R  ! ! !   R Y D E R  ! ! !


   R Y D E R  ! ! !   R Y D E R  ! ! !   R Y D E R  ! ! !


   R Y D E R  ! ! !   R Y D E R  ! ! !   R Y D E R  ! ! !


CL: Ryder is taking a moment to regain his composure now ... HE LEAPS
OVER THE BARRICADE AND BEGINS POUNDING AWAY ON NICK WRIGHT!

FH: What the hell is the referee thinking.

CL: The only way one man can win is when someone "quits".

[Ryder continued to dish out a beating with various strikes, then
backed Wright up into the audience a little ways. Ryder hooked
Wright's arm, charges the short distance to the barricade and hits a
hip toss back into ringside.]

CL: Ryder sends Wright up and back over towards the ring.  Masterson
just continues to look on with no face expression what-so-ever.

FH: That is the Pokerface for you.

CL: RYDER MOUNTS THE GUARD RAIL .. DIVES OFF!!!

[... and hits an axe handle smash to the mid-back of Nick Wright.
Tommy Ryder rolls Nick Wright into the ring and follows him in setting
up action inside the ring. Tommy Ryder hits a series of jabs to the
face of the groggy Wright, forcing him backwards into the corner.
Ryder charges ... climbs up Nick wright setting up for his stepping
stone, but instead of kicking Wright when he gets to the top, he drops
down into an inverted lung blower driving his knees into the front of
Wright's chest and throat area.]


"___THUUUUUUD___"


CL: HOLY COW!!!  Wright stumbles back in some serious early trouble
and DISCUS CLOTHESLINE BY RYDER SENDS HIM TO THE MAT!

FH: It'll take much more then that to make Nick Wright mutter those
words.

CL: Levinger sure enjoyed it.

FH: She would.. She is into that pain stuff.

CL: What?

FH: It's what Nick Wright told me.

[Ryder pulls Wright over to the corner and gives him a scoop slam and
follows it up with a leg-bounce springboard moonsault.]

CL: These two are two of PVW's most flashiest wrestlers.  Maybe add
Geddings and Cassel into this group.  Ryder is pulling Wright up and
whips him into the corner ... Ryder charges ...

FH: NO DICE!

[Nick "Always" Wright grabs onto the top rope before hitting the
turnbuckles and throws his feet into the air, twisting himself around
as Ryder comes charging and rolling him up with a sunset flip ... He
doesn't hold the cover as it would be pointless, but the counter was
effective never-the-less.]

CL: Both men back on their feet ... Ryder catches a thrown kick to the
mid-section.


"___THWAAAAAAP___"


FH: It appears Wright was expecting that and drilled brainless in the
side of the head with an enziguri.

[Nick Wright grabs Ryder as he's trying to get up, stands him up all
the way and then drops him to the mat with a sit-out jawbreaker.]

CL: Jaw crushing jawbreaker by Wright.  You can see this guy getting
better with every match.

FH: Look who he gets to learn from.  Marley, Manson, Feyr, and
Masterson.  That's a group of four elite superstars.

CL: What's Masterson doing on the outside?

[The Pokerface has grabbed a folding table from the aisle way and set
it up just outside of the red line surrounding the ring.  He has
grabbed a tabletop easel and set up a poster board presentation that
reads "Things Nick Wright Will Do To Laurel When He Wins".]

CL: Oh this is down right disgusting.

FH: Look at Laurel's face.  I think she likes it.

CL: That look is of disgust and distaste Fred.

[A close up shows that there are a number of boards underneath, which
read "Cleveland Steamer", "The Reverse Rick Moranis", "The Angry
Dragon", "The Jelly Doughnut", "Dog In A Bathtub", "Flying Monkey In
The Pink Hammock".]

CL: I won't even repeat what some of those say and I don't even _want_
to know what they mean.

FH: Oh man The Reverse Rick Moranis sounds fun!

CL: I don't even want to know what that is.

FH: You're missing out Lester.

[Meanwhile inside the ring Nick Wright has Tommy Ryder on his feet and
goes to whip him off the ropes but Ryder reverses. Wright ducks a
clothesline attempt and bounces off the opposing set of ropes.
Wright dives at "The Phenom" and takes him off of his feet once
more, this time with a sleeper slam. Nick wright then aggressively
begins putting the boots to the face of Tommy Ryder and spins with an
old-school boot-scrape.]

CL: Masterson is still trying to get under Levinger's skin ...  AND
LEVINGER HAS HAD ENOUGH WITH HIS DISPLAY!

[The fans roar and egg Lady Laurel Levinger on as she hauls off and
smacks the Pokerface right across the right cheek ...]


"___SLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAP___"


CL: LEVINGER HAS JUST LIT UP MASTERSON'S FACE!

FH: HEY SHE CAN'T DO THAT!

CL: You can only talk so bad about a girl Fred.  You should know that
by now.

FH: Come on all the girls love the The Reverse Rick Moranis!

[The referee has rolled out and he is sending "Lady" Laurel Levinger
to the back!  The fans roar in boo's and Masterson is holding his ride
cheek where he was slapped, but a smile can be seen.]

CL: Oh come on ref.  That was planned by the Made Men from the start
you can see right through their games.

FH: She broke Zero Tolerance Lester.

CL: Well I will agree that she did.

[Wright pulls Ryder to his feet again and gives him a strong short-
distance whip chest-first into the turnbuckles. Ryder staggers
backwards out of the corner into a backdrop set-up by Wright, but
Ryder flips over onto his feet behind Wright. Nick Wright turns around
and goes for a right hand but Ryder ducks it and nails the Made Man
with a big side slam which gets a roar from the crowd!]

CL: Ryder with a big counter!

FH: I thought you said this was an "I Quit" match.

CL: It is ... However both of these men aren't known for their
submission skills.  So you can bet they will weaken one another with
what they know best. Tommy Ryder is pulling Nick Wright up by his hair
and backs him into the corner with a barrage of forearms to the face.

FH: Illegal forearms I must add.

["The Phenom" whips Wright off the ropes and charges after him for a
clothesline but Nick Wright ducks it and both competitors bounce off
the ropes. Both men get the same idea for a crossbody and they collide
in mid-air, putting both men down!]

CL: Both men's move repertoire are so close to the same they both saw
an
opening and they collided in mid-air!

FH: I think Nick Wright hurt Ryder more then vice versa.

CL: How do you know that?

FH: Because Nick Wright is the Phenom Killer.

[Both men slowly start pulling themselves up to the sound of a crowd
a-buzz and start ducking it out. Nick Wright takes the cheap way out
with a rake to the eyes, then bounces Ryder's face off of the top
turnbuckle. Nick Wright puts the boots to Ryder a few times then whips
him into the opposing corner. Wright charges at Ryder who throws a
boot up to catch Wright in the face, but the Wright stops short,
catches Ryder's boot and hits him with a dragon whip!]

CL: What a series of counters!  Wright grabs both legs of the Phenom
and LEAPS into the air... DOUBLE LEGDROP TO THE GROIN!!!!

FH: What is going to happen ... You cant disqualify him.

CL: Still a cheap shot no doubt.

[Nick Wright pulls Tommy Ryder up and calls for his
spinning DDT ... As Ryder spins Ryder leaps into the air and hits a
close range leaping knee almost shining wizard like right into Nick
Wright's head ...]


"___CRAAAAAAAAAACK___"



[HUGE FACE POP!!!]


CL: Tommy Ryder quickly rolls out onto the apron and stands up, then
leaps over the top rope with a slingshot legdrop!

FH: If there was pinfalls in this match Nick Wright would have already
won this thing!

[Both men are back up ... Nick Wright still dazed from that short
range knee takes off running at Ryder, but the Phenom sees it coming
... TILT-A-WHIRL back breaker, but instead of dropping him hoists him
back up on his feet and then bashes the back of Wright's head into his
knee.]


"___ECHOOOOOING THUUUUUUUD___"


CL: WRIGHT SEEM'S OUT OF IT!

FH: This isn't good.  Wright can't loose again because he is
unconscious.

CL: Ryder yanks Wright up ... He basically has to HOLD him up.  He
sends Wright into the turnbuckle face first!

[As Nick Wright turns around Ryder runs up the turnbuckle which is now
behind them and hits a bulldog.]

CL: COMING AND GOING!!!

FH: This isn't looking good ... Do something Masterson!

[Nick Wright has dropped down and rolled to the outside holding the
side of his head.  Tommy Ryder rushes up the turnbuckles and leaps
into a plancha of his own with the bonus of posing in mid-air and
lands right on top of the unexpecting Nick Wright.]


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


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


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


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


CL: The action has spilt to the outside again.  Ryder looks to have
hurt himself even on that Photo Op.  Both men are slowly reaching
their feet.  QUICK thumb to the eye by Wright...

FH: Regain your composure Nick.  Things are far from over buddy.

[Wright smashes Ryder into the ring post. While Ryder is still against
the ring post Wright storms over and grabs a chair and goes to smash
Ryder with it ...]

CL: This could be bad news for Tommy Ryder ....  Ryder ducks!!!


"___CLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANG___"


[POP!!!]


[The chair crashes into the ring post ...  Wright drops the chair and
Ryder smashes him face first into the post.  Ryder then bends over and
grabs the chair and with a smile he _blasts_ Wright's head with it
while his head is against the ring post.  As Wright collapses to the
floor Ryder goes to the top and hits a shooting star press onto the
prone Wright.]

CL: TOMMY RYDER JUST DESTROYED NICK WRIGHT AND BUSTED THE MADE MAN
RIGHT OPEN!

FH: This isn't good.  I know this is an I quit match, but you have to
draw the line somewhere!

CL: Nick Wright _grabbed_ the chair!  He just missed Ryder first!

[Tommy Ryder looks down at the slumped over Nick Wright who is now
bleeding.  The fans are on their feet and he backs away and charges
forward with a knee ...]


"___CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAASH___"


CL: He just drove his knee cap right into Wright who was slumped
against the ring apron!

[Ryder turns around and charges towards an unexpecting Mark Masterson
and dives tackling the _other_ Made Man who was across the red zone
and takes him down with close range forearms.  He leaps off and grabs
the poster board and as the Pokerface shoves himself up and drives the
poster board over the head putting a hole through the middle.]


"___THUUUUUUUUUUUUUD___"


[HUGE PAYBACK POP!!!]


CL: TOMMY RYDER IS FEELING IT!  Him and Tucson Kid won the tag team
match at End Game.  He was on the winning side at Boiling Point in War
Games.  And he seems close to winning the match here tonight.  The
Phenom appears to be the Made Man Killer!

FH: Oh funny guy.

[Ryder turns around and goes to help Wright get up, but he was playing
part possum and grabs Ryder and pulls him forward smacking him face
first against the ring apron.  Nick Wright wipes the blood from his
forehead.  He doesn't look like he knows what to do anymore and just
snaps, biting the forehead of Tommy Ryder as his arms flail.]

CL: Nick Wright has turned into Spectre mode!

FH: Hey in a match it's survival mode!

[Wright rolls Ryder back under the ropes and pulls Ryder up and grinds
his forehead down the top rope from one corner to another, trying to
give the Phenom rope burn. He shouts - JUST QUIT!!!]

CL: What is Wright doing now ... He drags Ryder out of the corner a
small ways and lays him out with a reverse STO.

FH: Nick Wright is now slowly climbing the top ropes ...  He is
looking to hit the The Spin Cycle.

[The fans roar as Ryder pops up... He rushes up and drives his forearm
into the chops of Nick Wright.  Wright begins fighting back.  Both men
now sit at the top ropes laying into one another.  Wright grabs Ryder
into a front headlock ... He looks to spin around with a tornado DDT,
but Ryder stops him!  He leaps up with his legs ... FRANKENSTEINER!!]

CL: BOTH MEN ARE DOWN AND ON THE MAT!   This year long blood feud has
came down to this final lap.  Both men are busted open ...  Levinger
has been ejected.  Masterson had a posterboard crushed over his head.



   LETS GO TOMMY !!!   LETS GO TOMMY !!!   LETS GO TOMMY !!!


   LETS GO TOMMY !!!   LETS GO TOMMY !!!   LETS GO TOMMY !!!


   LETS GO TOMMY !!!   LETS GO TOMMY !!!   LETS GO TOMMY !!!


   LETS GO TOMMY !!!   LETS GO TOMMY !!!   LETS GO TOMMY !!!




FH: LETS GO NICK!!!


[Ryder has Wright up and starts an Irish whip, Wright reverses it,  He
bounces back, and Wright grabs Ryder by the back of the head and
throws him over the top rope, where he flies through the air and
crashes through the table that just happened to be sitting there from
earlier in the match.]


"___CRRRAAAAAAASHHHHHHHH___"


[GROAAAAAAAANING HEEL POP!!!]


CL: OH MAN!!!  Ryder has just been sent through that table and look at
Masterson he backs away with his hands up saying he had nothing to do
with that.

FH: He didn't.  Heck Ryder already came down and used the posterboard
for a weapon.  Fair is fair ...




   KICK HIM OUT !!!   KICK HIM OUT !!!   KICK HIM OUT !!!


   KICK HIM OUT !!!   KICK HIM OUT !!!   KICK HIM OUT !!!


   KICK HIM OUT !!!   KICK HIM OUT !!!   KICK HIM OUT !!!


   KICK HIM OUT !!!   KICK HIM OUT !!!   KICK HIM OUT !!!




CL: The fans wants the referee to kick Mark Masterson out, but it
doesn't appear like it's going to happen.

FH: Why would it?

[Nick Wright now drops and rolls out.  He yanks a chair up again and
looks at the camera and says "Not this time!"  He storms his way over
to Ryder who is laid through the table mess and puts Ryder's leg
_through_ the chair.  He leaps SPRINGBOARDS off the guard rail and
STOMPS down on that leg and chair...]


"___SNAAAAAAAAAAP___"



[HOLY CRAP GROANING JEERING POP!!!]



CL: WRIGHT COULD HAVE JUST BROKEN RYDER'S LEG WITH THAT!

FH: Do it again!

[Wright grabs Ryder and yanks him out of the mess.  Ryder grabs down
at that leg that is just loose and in pain.  Wright grabs that leg and
viciously smashes it into the guard rail.  Ryder quickly leans down
and grabs it in pain.]

FH: Nick Wright is pulling a play out of Mark Masterson's book right
here.

CL: Wright now has the ring steps .... HE IS USING IT AS A WEAPON AND
SMASHES IT DOWN ON THAT LEG ...


"___CLAAAAAAAAAAAANG___"



[Ryder screams in pain as his legs are his best weapon.  Wright wipes
the blood away and with an evil grin he grabs Ryder by the hair and
rolls him into the ring.  He quickly follows suit and begins putting
his boots to that leg.]

CL: Ryder is in some serious pain now.  This could be the beginning of
the end for Ryder.

FH: Of course it is Lester.  With out his legs Tommy Ryder is
completely useless.  Not even Laurel can save him now.

[Wright yanks Ryder up and places him in a front headlock.  Wright
backs up toward the ropes, leaps, springboards his legs off the top
rope and flips over Ryder's body, landing in a modified neckbreaker.]

CL: Wright now adding some insult to injury.  Listen to these fans boo
Fred.

FH: What do they know Lester?

CL: Nick Wright is slowly heading back to the top of the ropes.

FH: Go ahead and end this Nick.

[Wright does a mocking Ryder pose.  He then looks towards the camera's
and says - "I did it all for you Laurel ... He LEAPS into his Spin
Cycle ....]


"___THUUUUUUUUUUUUD___"



[HUGE HE MISSED POP!!!]


CL: TOMMY RYDER JUST MOVED OUT OF THE WAY!

FH: How the heck did he move that fast!?!

[The crowd pops as Laurel Levinger has rushed back down cheering Ryder
on ...]

FH: Hey what the hell she was already ejected!

CL: Leave her alone ...  She is just cheering on Ryder like the rest
of us out here.

FH: Speak for yourself Lester.

[Ryder uses the ropes and stumbles to his feet.  He can't put _any_
pressure on his leg.  However he grabs Nick Wright's leg and begins to
put on a standing figure four even fighting through the pain of his
own leg.]

CL: HE HAS LOCKED ON LADY'S CHOICE!!!!

FH: Wait Masterson has the referee's attention ...

[The referee has just spotted Laurel Levinger who is pumping her fist
as Nick Wright screams in dire pain.  The referee steps out of the
ring and is now explaining that Levinger _can't_ be down here.]

CL: COME ON!!!  WAIT LOOK ... WRIGHT IS TAPPING!!! WRIGHT IS
TAPPING!!!

FH: It's Levinger's fault!  She has no _right_ to be down here
anymore!  She was ejected for breaking Zero Tolerance!



[BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!]




[Levinger is besides herself she is pointing to the ring.  Trying to
plead with the referee.  Ryder see's what is going on and he drops the
hold leaning over yelling at the referee.]

CL: Tommy Ryder had this thing won.  He fought through that leg and
Nick Wright was tapping out like a little baby.

FH: What I never saw that!

[Finally Levinger begins leaving shaking her head ... Nearly in tears!
Wright is up and CHOP BLOCKS THAT LEG!  Tommy Ryder crumbles down
screaming grabbing that leg.]

CL: I don't know if Tommy is going to be able to wrestle on that leg
after that.

FH: I hope your right Lester.

[Nick Wright grabs that leg and does a flip forward extending it...
Ryder just grabs it screaming in some serious pain.  Nick Wright drags
Ryder over to the turnbuckles he drops out and walks around and grabs
his legs and yanks him towards putting the turnbuckle between Ryder's
legs.]

CL: What is Wright going to do here?

[He leaps up and locks on a figure four leg lock and hangs down with
all his weight ... Ryder just screams unable to move anywhere.]

FH: Let's see just how tough Tommy Ryder is.

CL: This is hard to watch folks.  This young kid came in like a
lightning storm and put the PVW on fire.  He stood up sometimes by
himself against the Widowmakers and now ... Against his arch nemesis
he is in a spot where he has to choose to win or suffer months and
months of a leg injury.

FH: He may already be passed months and be in Brian Young territory.

[The fans have gone silent and all you can hear is Ryder screaming
"NOOOOOO I CAN'T"....  However finally a breaking point comes.
Finally the point where a man can't stand the pain anymore arrives and
Tommy Ryder's hand hits the mat.  Nick Wright holds on for a few extra
seconds, but finally slides off and drops the hold.]

CL: Tommy Ryder couldn't hang on any longer.

FH: About time!

CL: You can say what you want Fred.  However there isn't many men that
could of suffered through that.  Nick Wright didn't go through half
the pain Ryder did and he was tapping out.  It's a shame the referee
didn't see it.

FH: Who's fault was that?

[Nick Wright is joined by his partner Mark Masterson as the referee
rolls out and raised the cocky Widowmaker's hand.]

CL: Lady Laurel Levinger rushes down this time the referee doesn't say
anything.  She leans over Tommy Ryder who holds that leg.

FH: Aaah isn't this a touching moment.

[Nick Wright is being helped back up the aisle by his partner.  They
turn around one last time and look at Ryder who is being helped to his
feet.  Once he makes it there he gives Levinger a slight shove away as
if he is saying let me walk on my own.  He hops on one foot basically
to the ring.  The fans are on their feet giving this young superstar a
standing ovation.]

FH: What are they doing ... He lost!

CL: It's much more then that Fred.  These fans are _wrestling_ fans.
They know where Tommy has came from and what he has done.  They also
know he had that match won in the center of the ring.

FH: What a bunch of idiots.

[Ryder gives the fans a respectful nod and he drops to the mat and
rolls out and begins heading up the aisle way on his own with Laurel
Levinger at his side.]

CL: What a class act and a warrior.

FH: You snooze you lose here in the PVW.

CL: A lot of good things are still go come for the young Tommy Ryder.

FH: Yeah a lot of good beatings.

CL: We are down to our final match.

FH: It all comes down to this!  Our American Hero -

[Without any fanfare or announcement, a crowd of burly security guards
begins marching toward the ring led by the new Head of Security, Jason
Keening.  All are dressed identically in jeans and black T-shirts with
the PVW logo emblazoned on the chest.  The crowd begins to murmur at
the unannounced intrusion.]

CL: And here comes Jason Keening who I believe has an announcement or
two to make...

FH: Ugh!  Wake me when this is over!!

[As Fred Hoyle makes an exaggerated show of putting his feet up on the
table, Keening climbs into the ring and refers to his clipboard before
raising a wireless microphone o his lips.]

JK: Good evening, everyone.  I apologize for the interruption but I do
have a few brief announcements to make.

[From out of the crowd, a lone voice begins chanting "Z-T-P!" "Z-T-P!"
"Z-T-P!" but it's difficult to tell if it's sarcastic or not.  Keening
ignores the shouting as he continues.]

JK: As a result of additional violations of the Zero Tolerance Policy,
the following fines have been assessed...

[Suddenly, "Rumatahatta" begins blaring over the loudspeakers and the
audience erupts at the interruption of the new Head Of Security's
speech.  The World Champion stalks down the aisle toward the ring,
ignoring the security personnel as they move in to surround him.
Dressed in street clothes, the Outcast carries the title over
one shoulder as he heads down the aisle.]

CL: Rob Cole coming down to confront the new head of security and
Jason Keening doesn't look happy to see the World Champion!  Then
again, the fans here in attendance aren't very happy either... Cole
has been accusing the icon of trying to play politics on him!

FH: If the shoe fits...

CL: Cole is scheduled to defend that title on Heatwave, but he is in
Chicago early!

[Cole pulls the title off his shoulder as he steps in the ring... he
stares at the head of security for a moment before calling for a
microphone, stepping toward the center of the ring and then staring
down at the title in his free hand as he speaks.]

RC: So I need to think about this title?  I need to think about what
it means to me, to this company, and ...and what else did you want me
to think about?  Oh yeah, you told me to "Consider my current
championship reign"... and that you were going to review whether you
should strip me of the title.  So here I am, kiddo... you want to
take my title now?  You want to just give away, reward a buddy, maybe
get yourself a cheap little cheer started in the southwest corner of
the arena?  I hear they've got a really good wave in Chi-town, Jason.
Go on... get yourself a wave going... go on...

[Before the man can respond, Cole suddenly drops the title at his feet
in disgust.  The act itself speaks louder than words as Cole lifts the
mic to his lips once again.]

RC: It's worthless tin on dead animal skin.  It's a trinket at best
because of men like you... cowards and filth!  I break a rule and you
want to strip it off my waist?  Go ahead... strip it!  Take it!  Hand
it over to Justin Cruise and hug him close, smile, raise his hand, get
your cheap little approval from these idiots and celebrate the rise of
a paper champion.  Because, at the end of the night, that's all he is.
Even now, this moment... you've taken away whatever glory he could
have earned by putting your nose where it doesn't belong, Jason.  You
could have suspended me earlier in the night, you could have cancelled
my flight, you could have done any number of things... but you wanted
to make an impact.  You made it and now the World Champion is calling
you to task... I'm supposed to face the number one contender this week
at Heatwave, but nobody cares because all eyes are on what I'll do to
you.  I should be out here to give the  challenger a face to face
chance to talk about his title opportunity, but I'm here with YOU!!!

[Cole smirks in disgust, watching the features of Jason Keening for a
reaction a moment before he continues. For his part, Keening chuckles
to himself but politely refrains from interrupting.]

RC: A pencil pushing has-been... a guy who used to mean something in
another promotion... a guy who is /not/ the number one, two, three, or
even a meaningful contender in ANY way to that belt at your feet.  You
went out of your way to provoke me, Jason... to mock me, taunt me, and
leave me a screaming, crying, miserable wreck as I went into the next
Heatwave and you used your power to strip me of my belt.  And then
what?  Reward yourself the next title shot?  What's the plan?  You
obviously don't give a damn about what people like me or Justin have
earned, what we went through, or what that title is supposed to mean!
You just don't care... do you?  DO YOU?!?!!!

[Keening stares up at the much larger Cole and surprises most
observers by smiling. Broadly.]

JK: You are clearly operating under some mistaken assumptions, Mister
Cole.

[Cole continues to glare as Keening pauses a moment before
continuing.]

JK: First and foremost, you seem to be taking this awfully personally
as if the Zero Tolerance Policy was invented just for you.  The
reality is, it wasn't.

[The erstwhile Champion scoffs at this but the Head of Security
continues.]

JK: Secondly, you also are assuming that I accepted this job just so
that I could personally benefit and position myself for a return to
the ring.  BZZZZT... wrong!

[A few members of the audience laugh at Keening's game show
imitation.]

JK: But you are absolutely right about one thing... I _AM_ a pencil-
pushing has-been.  I'm a non-wrestler.  I'm retired... and plan on
staying that way, permanently.  Which means that I really couldn't
care less who the champion is whether it's you or anybody else on this
roster.  What I _DO_ care about is the safety and welfare of these
people.

[With a wave of his arm, Keening indicates the audience who responds
with a loud cheer about being referenced on TV.]

JK: I also care about the welfare of the PVW employees who've had to
put up with assaults and intimidation for far too long.  And believe
it or not, Mister Cole, I actually care about the safety and welfare
of the wrestlers on this roster.  Which includes you.  Whether you
believe it or not, the Zero Tolerance Policy was put into place to
protect EVERYONE.  And those that violate that policy?  Well, that's
what I've been hired to do.  Make sure that those that break the rules
pay for their transgressions.  If that includes stripping a
titleholder of his belt, so be it.

[Cole chuckles in disgust, shaking his head.]

RC: Are you trying to convince these people?  They don't care if you
strip me... they'll cheer you for it, celebrate you for it, and
they'll even carry you up on their shoulders until they collapse.  I
don't care, Jason!  You threaten me with Zero Tolerance... and that's
all it is, Jason.  It's a threat... and I'm not going to listen to it.
At Heatwave, I'm going to walk down that aisle and I'm going to
break your rules... every last one of them.  I'm going to use weapons,
I'm going to choke, I'm going to bite, and I'm going to beat the hell
out of any official that gets in my way.  Do something about it,
Keening... do something!  Protect poor Justin Cruise, protect these
fans, protect these officials... stop me!  STOP ME!!!! STOP ME!!!!

[Cole starts to laugh... falling to his knees, clasping his hands in
front of him as his eyes suddenly go wild.  He continues to scream
"Stop me!" over and over again, dropping the microphone as he pleads
with Jason Keening.  The PVW Head of Security shakes his head in
disgust as he summons the crowd of security guards into the ring
with a wave of his hand.]

JK: You want to be stopped, Mister Cole?  OK... since it seems you're
incapable of acting like an adult and restraining yourself, here's how
we'll stop you.  If you deliberately ignore the Zero Tolerance Policy,
you will be in violation of your PVW contract which requires you to
abide by the rules and regulations of this company. If you become a
threat to the people that I have been hired to protect, you _WILL_
be stripped of your championship title... the World Championship
_WILL_ be declared vacant.  But more importantly, your employment with
this company will be terminated... immediately!

[Keening pauses for a moment as Cole glares at him.]

JK: Gentlemen... I believe that Mister Cole and I have concluded our
conversation.

[The security guards surround Cole who continues to ignore them while
glaring daggers at Keening.]

JK: Let's escort him to the back, shall we?  I'm sure we've
interrupted enough of the program as it is.

[The crowd erupts in an ovation of cheering as an enraged Cole
struggles within the grip of the security guards but is forced to exit
the ring.  Yelling threats and insults at Keening, the World Champion
is escorted up the aisle and through the entrance curtains]

CL: WHOA!!

FH: He can't do that ....  Mr. Strickland!?!?  Mr. Willingham!?!?
Gibson Hayes!?!?  Anyone listening stop this mad man!

CL: Zero Tolerance has been backed up to the letter of the law and Rob
Cole was just put in check!

FH: Oh you don't expect Rob Cole out of all people to be threatened by
a pencil pushing Jason Keening do you?

CL: If he wants to continue to work for the PVW ... Yes I do!

FH: He can't ... He _wouldn't_.

CL: You know Jason Keening all too well Fred.  You know he follows the
rules to the the letter.

FH: I hate ... No I dispise Jason Keening.

[The scene cuts to backstage where we see a door clearly labeled
"Jessica Marshall". The door opens, and out steps Lilith Pain, with a
wicked smile on her face.  She turns as she leaves, looking back in
the door.]

Lilith Pain:  A pleasure doing business with you, Ms Marshall.  You
have my word, you won't regret this.

[The scene cuts back to the announce table.]

CL:  Just what is going on here?  What was Xavir Feyr's manager doing
in Jessica Marshall's office?

FH:  Girl-on-girl action?

CL:  ...

FH:  I can dream can't I?

[Herk Douglas is now standing inside the ring ...]

Herk Douglas:  Ladie and gentlemen... the following contest is for THE
AMERICAN CHAMPIONSHIP!

*CROWD POP*

CL:  The crowd has been anticipating this one for some time.

FH:  Yeah, their eager to see their American hero, Gibson Hayes, run
Doc Holliday right on out of town, the state, and then the whole
country.

HD:  Introducing first...

[Herk Douglas is interrupted for a moment by a staffer whispering
something in his ear.  He looks confused for a moment and then clears
his throat, returning to his introduction.]

HD:  Lades and gentlemen, I have just been informed that referee Tim
Pearson was unable to be here tonight... and so, introducing first...
THE SPECIAL GUEST REFEREE...

CL and FH:  What!?

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

CROWD: *EARTHSHAKING HEEL POP*

["Bad Blood" by the Ministry begins playing over the PA as red
flickering lights illuminate the entrance area, and single figures
steps out onto the entrance ramp.  It's Xavier Feyr wearing the
remnants of what used to be a referees shirt.  It seems Xavier was
unsatisfied with the range of movement allowed by the original outfit,
and has ripped off the sleeves, leaving obvious tears on the shirt.]

MUSIC:    #What's lies?


            #Full moon and thoughts collide


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


            #We ask if vermin are the ones that already learned


            #Those aren't tears,


            #They're just bad bad blood


CL:  You've GOT to be kidding me!  Xavier Feyr is the referee?

FH:  Oh, this is gonna be a great match now!

MUSIC:  # Just bad bad blood!

[Another figure steps out from behind the curtain behind Xavier… this
being a slender asian woman in a black dress that looks almost like an
extremely long scarf that's been wrapped around her body countless
time.  This leaves numerous small gaps that reveal bits of her tattoo
covered skin beneath, and at her side she carries a short whip, an
impish grin on her face as she steps up next to Xavier and rests an
arm on his shoulder for a moment before the two begin making their way
down to the ring.]

MUSIC:  # What lies?


            #No big surprise.


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


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


            #We're in denial with bad blood

[Xavier stalks down to the ring as the crowd boos.  As he nears the
ring he removes his mirror shades, glaring into the camera with his
cat-like eyes.]

MUSIC:  # Do you remember the strain?


            #Do you remember the pain?


            #Do you remember who caused all the blame?

            # Bad Blood!

[Xavier slides into the ring and stalks to the center, wringing his
hands and grinning with sadistic glee at the thought of the coming
carnage.]

CL:  This is an unusual turn of events folks...

MUSIC:    #Do you remember me?


          #Do you remember us?


          #Do you surrender your dreams or your trust?


          #Bad Blood!

[The lights return to normal, and the music fades...being replace by
the creepy harmonica opening to Enrico Morricone's "Man With A
Harmonica" from "Once Upon A Time In The West" echoes from the PA, and
the lights dim to the cheers of the crowd.]

CL:  This is unbelievable!  How can Holliday possibly win with Xavier
Feyr as the guest referee!

FH:  What do you mean?  How do you know he won't try to make Holliday
win so that he can take down Holliday and win the American title at
the same time?

CL:  You may actually have a point there Fred... either way, Xavier is
in a perfect position to push his own agenda here tonight.

[In short order, the spotlights focus on the concrete area to the
right of the entranceway, as what has just entered the arena area was
too large to come in through the curtain.  The fans go wild as a team
of four brown horses slowly clop into view, drawing a wooden carriage
behind them!  The ominous music echoes in the background as the team
is driven into the aisleway by a rider dressed in 1880's coachman
livery.]

CL: Holliday riding in style, in a 19th century carriage!

FH: He's riding in fear, Chip.  He doesn't want to get attacked by any
of Johnstone's men.  As if a real American like Gibson Hayes would
stoop to those lows.

[Slowly, the carriage makes its way down the aisle.  It pulls to a
halt just short of ringside, and the side door swings open.  Stepping
out onto a side rail of the carriage is the challenger, and to the
roar of the capacity crowd, Doc Holliday climbs to the roof of the
carriage, and raises his mahogany walking cane to the fans in
attendance.  As always, he is wearing wearing a tailor-made old-style
suit of a cut and style popular in the late 1800's; a black jacket
with white silk ruffled undershirt, a gold undervest, and long black
pants.  He also wears a black hat, from which his long wavy light-
brown hair dips to just below shoulder level.  A gold chain can be
seen dangling from his suit jacket.]

FH: Funny how when money is involved, Holliday starts pandering.

CL: Excuse me?

FH: Excuse nothing.  This guy would stab a man in the face with a
meathook to get his way.  He announced his presence in PVW by
attemping to literally murder Rick Marley, and has left no doubt as to
whether he will do that again.  But as soon as we put him in a main
event, he's all smiles and fan-friendly, and these hypocrites
in the seats buy it.

[As Fred rants, Holliday slowly steps down into the front of the
carriage, and down the small ladder to the arena floor.  He then
proceeds to march the last few steps towards ringside, using his cane
to 'help' him get along with his slight limp.  He walks around the
outside of the ring, interacting with the ringside fans the whole
way, taking his sweet time and building the anticipation.]

CL: If you'd like to call Doc a hypocrite to his face, Fred, he's on
his way over past the table.

FH: It's not him.  He's got a bizarre code and I think he's lost his
grip on reality, but that's different than hypocrisy.  He's actually
told everyone directly what he is and why.  It's that the fans cheer
him anyway!  I don't get it!  It's like telling a guy 'hey, I'm going
to shoot you in your sleep at 3 AM tonight' and the dummy still goes
to bed at 1 and sets his alarm for 5.

The orchestral movement of the piece has come to a close as Holliday
climbs the steps, raising his cane again to the fans who respond with
cheers.  He steps into the ring, and as he does.]

Herk Douglas: And introducing the champion: he is six feet, three
inches tall and weights two-hundred and twenty three pounds. From
Tuscaloosa, Alabama but he has vacation homes in Washington, DC and
"Downtown" Canada. He is America's champion and PVW's American title
holder. Here is Gibson...

GIBSON SUCKS!  GIBSON SUCKS!  GIBSON SUCKS!

GIBSON SUCKS!  GIBSON SUCKS!  GIBSON SUCKS!

GIBSON SUCKS!  GIBSON SUCKS!  GIBSON SUCKS!

[The music of "Da Funk" by Daft Punk begins to play over the intercom
system, and the crowd gives a mixed chorus of boos and, well, more
boos.]

FH: When did Chicago become a foreign territory? Don't these people
know a real American hero when they see one.

CL: When they see one they'll let you know Fred.

Herk Douglas: ...Gibson "Red" Hayes

[The crowd pops a little more as the video wall lights up to show
various courtroom scenes, as well as a number of riots and fights in
the streets of cities from around the world.  In particular are
police-invovled riot shots, and empty judges benches, alternating in
sequence, and between each one is either the word "Uncivil" or the
word "Disobedience" matching the same sequence.]

CL: What's with the Uncivil Disobedience thing Fred?

FH: Don't you know anything? Gibson is obviously having to take his
protest to a new level now that PVW is caving into the Keening PAC...
that and it's probably a tribute to someone knowing how Gibson seems
to enjoy referencing wrestling history that maybe three other people
know about.

[A camera shot of the sell out crowd shows more than a few Tom Landis
signs in the audience. Gibson is in Landis's hometown and is nowhere
near liked at this moment. To his credit, Gibby is delaying his actual
appearance.

...until .43 seconds into the song. Of course the audience does not
disappoint and begins to chant, in beat with the song, their heartfelt
battle cry.]

GIBSON SUCKS!  GIBSON SUCKS!  GIBSON SUCKS!

GIBSON SUCKS!  GIBSON SUCKS!  GIBSON SUCKS!

GIBSON SUCKS!  GIBSON SUCKS!  GIBSON SUCKS!

[And out comes Warren "Big Bubba" Hayes with a pastel pink suit sans
sleeves and a white "SECURITY" t-shirt shoved onto his massive bald
form. After Big Bubba is Todd "The Rod" Johnstone. Todd is wearing an
asphalt burn reddish black suit with burning cross orange tie and
landfill burnt umber tie with his brown belt from Sears and
silver tipped black cane.]

CL: How will Holliday handle Gibson's entourage?

FH: Holliday can't even spell entourage, or pronounce it, so he'll
just probably give up and go to the local Krogers or Food Lion or
whatever the hell they have here in Chicago and ride the mechanical
horsey outside.

[After TJ and Bubba come Pat and Orel, members of RAPE and the newest
addition to the Gibson Hayes Army. Pat is outfitted in a brown robe
that's about three sizes too big for him while Orel is wearing the
latest dour expression from the "don't want to be here catalog" to
accentuate his crisp white and black suit.]

CL: Where does Gibson dig up these creeps?

FH: Creeps! Gibson is out there rallying real America against its
enemies. These are some of the greatest examples of what America has
to offer!

[Finally, the man himself emerges from backstage. Gibson is wearing
his hair in an afro with a red headband. Hayes is bare chested and has
his left wrist wrapped in red athletic tape. On his right forearm is a
bright red cast. The camera zooms in on the cast and it is covered in
signatures from some of wrestling's less than savory characters.
Gibson strides to the ring with a very smug plastered on his face. The
PVW American championship is strapped around Hayes's waist. Oddly,
Gibson is wearing a pair of black wrestling tights with purple
triangles running down the sides and his boots are the same dark
purple (more of a plum) with black toe and heel as well as black
laces. Gibson slaps hands with what few supporters he has and slowly
climbs into the ring, leaning against the turnbuckles on the
southeastern side of the ring.]

CL: Hayes looking incredibly calm Fred.

FH: Of course! That pep talk he had with his mentor obviously helped
him more than anything else. If there is one man who knows about
psychological tricks it's Tyrone "Purple" Hayes.

[As Douglas finishes his introductions, Doc Holliday steps forth and
snatches the microphone.]

DH: Great job, Herk.  But ya fergot ta in'nerduce someone.

[Johnstone immediately senses trouble, and he freezes in the middle of
exiting the ring with a suspicious look on his face.  Hayes seems
mildly curious more than anything.]

DH: Ya fergot ta in'nerduce mah manager.

FH: WHAT?!

[Johnstone straightens up... and almost falls down as "You Know My
Name" by Chris Cornell once again bursts over the PA.  Gibson figures
out what is going on, and immediately launches a protest to the
referee.  Unsurprisingly, Feyr doesn't seem to pay him any mind.]

CL: LANDIS!

FH: NO!  WHAT THE HELL?!  TOM LANDIS ISN'T A MANAGER!

[Maybe not, but that sure looks like a manager's license he's holding
over his head as he exits from the other side of the carriage.  The
crowd once again gives that home town roar as the veteran and native
of Chicago quickly hustles to ringside, stopping just behind the Zero
Tolerance line... and inviting Todd Johnstone to come join him as the
portly manager throws a violent, vulgar screaming fit.  The music
drops down as Holliday continues to talk.]

DH: Way ah figger it, boy, Landis is a profesh-nal talent evaluator.
Hell, he's so good at evaluatin' talent he's only th' second best
wrassler in his own household.

No, Tom, ah ain't takin' thet back.

[Landis grins at the reference to his wife, a multiple-time champion
in her own right.]

DH: So in front o' th' whole world now, we wanna see whut Gibson Hayes
got.  We wanna see if you kin wrassle lak ya talk.  We wanna see if ya
got th' right ta call yerself a real champ-een.  An' this company?
Wants ta see if they oughta invest anothah dime in yer career.

Don't blow it, boy.

[With that, Doc tosses the mic away, and backs up into his corner.
Johnstone remains in the ring, understandably reticent to go out to
the floor now.  He's also arguing that Landis isn't a real manager and
that his license came from a Cracker Jack box.  Gibson just seems
stunned by all of this.]

CL: I think Holliday has officially gotten into Gibson's head.  All
this talk about whether Gibson's performance tonight will make-or-
break his whole career, and now adding Tom Landis, who Gibson's been
antagonizing for months, to the mix?

FH: It's unfair!  That's too much pressure!  The champ doesn't deserve
this, he's an American hero!

CP:  It comes with the territory, Fred.  Xavier is now asking both men
to submit to a basic search for foreign objects.  Surprisingly
professional of him.

[Xavier checks Gibson Hayes first, finding a salt packet in his
trunks, a fork in his boot, and a metal plate hidden under the cast on
his arm.  Xavier then politely hands these back to Gibson Hayes and
give him the "OK" sign.]

CROWD: *MASSIVE HEEL POP*

CL:  You've got to be kidding me!  He looked right at that arsenal of
foreign objects!  He even had them in his hands!  And he just gives
them right back!?

FH:  Obviously these had medical clearance from Dr. Mal.

CL:  This is absurd!

[Xavier then goes to check Doc Holliday.  A cursory search reveals a
pair of brass knuckles, salt, a tire iron, and a knife.  Xavier looks
over these obvious weapons as the crowd boos... then hands them right
back to Doc and gives the "OK" sign again.]

CROWD:  *MASSIVE FACE POP*

FH:  What the hell!?  He... how can he allow... I... why... it...

CL:  Look at Todd Johnston, I think he's about to have an anurism.

FH:  But.. he has... A KNIFE.  Would he have let him bring his gun
into this match?

[As Xavier calls for a microphone, Lilith saunters over to the
announce table
and put on a headset.]

CL:  Ladies and gentlmen, it appears that Ms. Lilith Pain is joining
us at the announce table this evening.

FH:  ... this is sucha  Great night. *ahem*  A pleasure to meet you
Ms... er Dr. Pain.

CL:  Pick your jaw up off the floor Fred... you're getting drool on
the announce table.

LP:  Thank you, Fred... Chip.  It's a pleasure to be here.

[As Fred oggles Xavier's manager, and Chip tries to get Fred to
retrieve his jaw from the floor, Xavier has meanwhile retrieved a
microphone.  He looks back and forth between Holliday and Hayes a few
times and then speaks.]

Xavier Feyr:  Just to clarify the rules of the match... this contest
is, as of now, no contout, and NO disqualification.

Crowd: *HUGE HEEL POP*

FH:  Excellent!  Can't have all those pesky lawyers getting in the way
with those silly rules and stipulations.

LP:  Yeah, can you believe it's illegal to use closed fists? or choke
your opponent? beat your opponent within an inch of his life with a
tire iron... or to bring a sword or spear to the ring?

CL:  Look at Hayes's entourage, their loving this.  With those
stipulations, the Zero Tolerance Rules are effectively null and void.

XF: [raises a hand] BUT...

FH:  What?  But... no, no, no... no buts!  The rules were good the way
they are now!  NONEXISTANT, just how I, er, the fans like them.

XF:  ...there is the small matter of outsiders interfering in a battle
between men. We can't have that, now can we. [grins[

CL:  I can hear Hayes crying conspiracy from here!  Look at Johnston,
he's livid.  I think he's going to have an anurism right here.

XF:  As such, the red line will be enforced... anyone crossing it will
be subject to the full penalties under Zero Tolerance Policy.

CROWD:  *MASSIVE FACE POP*

XF: [grinning wickedly] Of course, should anyone make a threatening
move towards someone outside the ring by crossing the line... then it
would be only natural to defend oneself.

[Hayes's entourage settle down a bit and get into huddle for a moment,
then spread out along the red line, standing right at it, smiling
"innocently".]

CL:  That's certainly a unique interpretation of the Zero Tolerance
Policy on Xavier's part.  What's his angle here?


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
                  06.23.09 Tradition III
                    <><><><><><><><><>
                  American Championship:
                    <><><><><><><><><>
                    Holliday v. Hayes
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


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

CL:  This match is finally underway...

FH:  Yeah, I thought we'd never get through all the last second
annoucements for a while there.

CL:  Holliday's having some choice words for Hayes in the ring, but
Hayes seems to be brushing it aside.

FH:  Of course, he has more important things to worry about that what
some redneck from Arizona thinks of him.  He has a country to save
from terrorists, foreign business interests, and the Dali Lama, using
money from Saudi oil to fund stem cell reserach into creating an army
of super Mexicans, that will then...

[As Fred continues devulging the details of the latest conspiracy to
Chip and Lilith, Hayes challenges Doc to a test of strength, to which
Holliday readily agrees.]

FH:  ...and that's how the economic recession, the War on Terror, and
the EPA are
being used by the Communists to turn over the country to the crab
people.

CL:  Meanwhile, back in the real world, Gibson Hayes is challenging
Doc Holliday to a test of strength, which knowing him is just another
opportunity for a cheap shot.

LP:  This would be the wrong guy to try that on...

[As if on cue, Gibby attempts the old boot to the gut as they lock up,
only to have Holliday step side ways and bring his leg up to kick
Gibson right in the groin, dropping him like stone.]

CL:  Indeed, the veteran is no stranger to those kind of dirty
tactics.

FH:  Duh-uh!  He's used them himself for how many years!?

CL:  And look at Gibson Hayes.  He has the nerve to complain to the
ref about the cheapshot after that.

FH:  ...or at least he would if the ref was there... where is Xavier?

[Indeed, as Gibby turns, complaining to the ref at out of habit, he
stops, realising that the ref is nowhere to be found.  The camera then
cuts over to Xavier over at ringside, ordering some popcorn from one
of the ringside vendors.]

CL:  What is he doing?  He's not even trying to officiate this match.

LP:  Oh, don't worry, it's no disqualification... it'll be a while
before he's needed.

FH:  And that weasel Doc Holliday sees an opening and is trying to
kick our American heroes teeth in.

CL:  Gibson let the situation distract him for a moment, and Doc's
doing his best make him pay for it with those kicks to the face.

[After putting a few well placed boots to Gibby's face, Doc backs up,
and with a running start hits a dropkick right to the face of Gibson
Hayes as he gets up to his knees.]

LP:  Ooh, you could here the crack on that one.

CL:  And he's not finished yet... he's lining up... and running soccer
kick to the face.  I'm pretty sure that punt knocked one or two of
Gibson Hayes's teeth out.

FH:  Soccer?  That proves, Holliday's not an American!  Why else would
he embrace a sport like soccer instead of an All-American sport like
footall, baseball, or dynamite fishing?  He must be secretly Mexican.

CL:  Holliday in there quick with a side headlock, and he's literally
dragging Gibson up to his feet.  He's not letting Hayes get even a
moment's rest here.

[After a moment trying to shake off Doc, Hayes manages and elbow to
Holliday's side, and then lifts him up in a wastlelock.]

FH:  Teardrop suplex... or not.

CL:  Hayes almost got the upper hand there, but a punch to the face,
followed by headlock takedown puts the veteran Holliday back in
control.

FH:  Hey, they just started, you can't say anyone is in control yet.

LP:  Excactly.  Hayes just kicked right out of that headlock.  And the
two just trading punches... not much finesse there, just viseral
brutality of two men trying to beat the other into submission. [takes
a deep breath as if savoring the thought]

FH:  Isn't she great?

CL:  Just call the match, Fred.

[Meanwhile, Gibson and Doc exchange blows.  Trading right hand for a
moment before Hayes get in a knee to the gut of Holliday, followed by
forearm shot, and then an uppercut attempt that Doc avoids, slipping
around to catch him with a left hand jab.]

*POW!*

CL:  That left jab from Doc has the champion seeing stars.  And
another... and a third!  And the champion drops like he was just
tazered.  Those stinging left hands from Doc are something.

FH:  They've got to be loaded.

LP:  No they aren't... the brass knuckles are in his trunks still,
remember?  You saw him put them back.

FH:  er... he must have surgically implanted them in his fist then.

CL:  Doc with an armwringer on Doc... the champion rolls right out of
it.  Hip toss from Gibson Hayes... oh, but the challenger just landed
right on his feet and countered with one of his own.  And an
armdrag... and another.  And a dropkick floors Hayes like a gunshot!

FH:  The boots must be loaded!

CL:  Don't even start, Fred.

LP:  The champion runs to the ropes... that won't do him much good in
a no DQ match.

CL:  And Xavier just yawns... the referee seems very disinterested in
this match.

FH:  Can you blame him?  So far it's been one boring lock up or hold
after another.  He might as well take a coffee break and come back in
5 minutes when they're actually wrestling.

LP:  Don't be so cynical, Fred, the finer arts of technical/submission
wrestling can be quite entertaining given a proper understanding of
human anatomy.  For example, the arm hold that Holliday currently has
locked on Hayes, commonly called an armwringer, leaves the limb
especially vulnerable if one were to apply a sudden force to the arm,
like say a blow to the shoulder, possibly fracturing the limb.

FH:  What?

CL:  She said you could break his arm.

FH:  Oh.

LP:  Ah, and now you see Gibson Hayes has reversed the move into a
hammer lock, but his technique is a little off.  Personally I prefer
the pressure to apply a little further up the arm then that, the
sudden on rush of pain almost makes the body tingle for a moment.
Mmmm.  It's especially delcious if one is forced down to the
knees by...

CL: [suddenly realizing where this is going] Um... hey, change of
subject, kids are watching this show.

FH:  They've grow up sometime, I'd like to hear a few more details.

CL:  It's not worth the lawsuit, Fred.  Back to the match, Holliday
cathces Hayes with an elbow... right by Holliday ducked, and the
champion with a few quick jabs to the kindeys of Holliday... and a
right to the head rocks the veteran... and ano-Holliday slips
around...

*POW*

LP:  And Hayes goes done like he was just hit by Voltron's blazing
sword!

CL:  ...by what!?

LP:  What?  Being into S&M means I can't watch cartoons anymore?

FH:  That thug Holliday isn't letting it end there though after
hitting him with that loaded fist of his.  Look at him, he's pulling
the champions hair!

CL:  It's not DQ Fred, and-SPEAKING OF LOADED!

CROWD:  *HEEL POP!*

FH:  Gibson just hit him with his broken arm!  Why his tolerance for
pain must be amazing to be able use that arm to fight off Holliday!

CL:  It's not broken, Fred, and you know it.  That loaded cast got
medical clearance from Dr. Mal...

FH:  Which makes it perfectly legal.

CL:  ...and now he's using it as a weapon.

LP:  Gentlemen, I'd like to remind you that this argument is moot,
seeing as how the referee has effectively defenestrated the rulebook.

FH:  That's right, and Hayes is using every move in his arsenal to
show Holliday how a true champion fights.

CL:  Yes, by repeatedly hitting him with a loaded cast in the back of
the head.

FH:  Hey, the cast is padding the blow.  Those forearms from Gibby are
devestating otherwise.  He should wear the cast all the time for the
safety of his opponents!

CL:  Gibson drags Holliday up slowly... irish whip... Gibson off the
ropes...

FH:  And a running forearm shot from our American hero sends the
cowboy back to lala land from whence he came.  And I demand to know
why citizens of lala land are allowed in this country without a
passport!

CROWD:  *BIG HEEL POP*

CL:  Gibson Hayes is quite proud of himself after that one, and this
capacity crowd is letting him know just what they think of it.

FH:  Heroes are always ahead of their time.

LP:  Yes, just like my Xavier.

FH:  Of course!  If more people were like Hayes or Feyr the world
would be a much better place.

[As Hayes plays to the crowd, flexing, and pretending to fan himself
in the corner, Doc Holliday rolls to the side of the ring, and gets
ahold of his cane.  Unawares, Gibson makes his way over to Holliday
and grabs a handful of hair.]

FH:  No, Gibby!  Watchout!

LP:  One to the ribs...

*CRACK!*

CROWD:  *HUGE FACE POP*

CL:  Holliday just broke that cane right over Gibson Hayes's head!

FH:  He's bleeding!  The champ is bleeding!  Stop the match!
Disqualify Holliday... oh, no DQ... no fair!  This is too much
pressure, wrestling with an injured arm!

CL:  He's NOT injured!

LP:  Gibby is in lala land now, and that's not a good place to be when
you're up against some like Doc Holliday.

CL:  Holliday is dragging the champion up to his feet, and jawing off
at him, though I'm not sure how much of it Hayes can understand after
his brain was rattled by that shot from Doc's cane.

[Holliday pulls up Gibby by the ropes to hold up his groggy opponent,
and then whips him across the ring, then whips himself, ducking past
Gibby once, and then on the rebound hits a springboard flying forearm,
rolling all the way across the ring with the momentum from the attack,
to end up on the apron on the opposite side of the ring.]

CL:  A classic Holliday move there... and this usually sets up...

LP:  ...the springboard legdrop!

FH:  Damnit!  Get up, Gibby!

[Holliday goes for a quick cover, but there's no count.]

CL:  ONE !!!




TWO !!!




Where's the referee!?

[The camera pans over to the outside, where Xavier Feyr is buying
popcorn from a ringside vendor.  He munches a few bites, glances over
at Holliday in the ring, and mockingly waves.]

CROWD:  *EARTHSHAKING HEEL POP!*

CL:  You've got to be kidding me!  He could have had him right there!
What is Xavier doing!?

FH:  Hey, he's just getting some popcorn.  You don't expect him to
work on an empty stomach do you!

[As the crowd boos, Xavier smiles and calls for a microphone.]

XF:  I'm sorry, I forgot to mention something... for this match, don't
bother going for pinfalls, I won't be counting them.

[The crowds erupts into a massive chorus of boos, but Holliday smiles
for a moment and nods, just accepting the change to the rules, and
goes right back to beating on Gibson Hayes, driving repeated elbows
into Gibson's neck and head.]

CL:  What!?  No pinfalls!?  Is he insane!?

LP:  Of course not.  I've given him a clean bill of mental health.

CL:  ...you're... his psychiatrist?

FH:  Of course she is, didn't you know that?  She's one of the most
respected in her field.

CL:  This... explains so much.

[Back in the ring, Holliday drags Gibson Hayes up to his feet, and
promptly drills him back down with a legdriver bulldog.]

CL:  Holliday, veteran that he is, isn't letting the change in the
rules effect him. He's gone right back on the offense, not giving
Gibson Hayes a moment's respite.

FH:  He's just mad that Xavier wouldn't let him steel a win.

CL:  But how is this match going to end now?  No pinfalls?  What does
that leave? Only submission or one of these men being unable to
continue, that's it!  Is he trying to get these two to kill eachother?

LP:  Pretty much, yeah.

CL:  ...

FH: [whispers to Lilith] He's overwhelmed by your amazing display of
integrity.

[Doc Holliday goes hits Gibby with a few more shining elbows for good
measure, and then scoops him up and gets a running start...]

LP:  Arizona Sodubst-no!

[...but Gibson Hayes slips back behind Holliday and shoves him chest
first into the turn buckle.]

FH:  The champion fighting back against the odds!  Atomic Drop!

CL:  And Hayes follows up with a dropkick to the back of Holliday...
and a runing splash right in the corner.  It looks like Hayes is
finally starting to take the fight to Holliday.

FH:  He's always been a fighting champion.  And Holliday staggers back
from the corner after that splash likes he's been hitting the booze
too much... and the champ with a BEAUTIFUL tear drop suplex!

[As Gibby stands he begins fake limping like Doc Holliday, and
strutting, then raises his hands in the air as if in victory, to which
the crowd responds with their favorite chant...]

CROWD:  GIBSON SUCKS!  GIBSON SUCKS!  GIBSON SUCKS!

CL:  And Hayes takes the opportunity to seize the spotlight.  He
shouldn't turn his back on his opponent like this.

FH:  Hey!  What's he doing with the turn buckle?

[Gibson's entourage tries to get his attention, but unable to hear
them over the crowd, he seems to think their cheering him on, and
gives them a double thumbs up.  He turns back to Holliday, but as he
reaches down for him Holliday spins and drop-toe holds his feet right
out from under him, bringing Gibby down face first into the now
exposed turnbuckle.]

FH:  NO!

CL:  Gibson just got a face full of steel, and that wound in his head
is seriously starting to bleed now.

FH:  Get the ref in there to stop this... wait, the ref fores crazy
when he sees blood... keep the ref as far away from him as possible!

LP:  Please, he's more lucid than that... it's only when HE'S the one
making people bleed.

FH:  Well, that's good to know... I guess.

[Clutching his forehead, Gibson Hayes rolls out of the ring, and
scurries over to his entourage who promptly surround him and start
washing his cut.  Johnston starts screaming expletives at Holliday.]

FH:  You tell him, Todd.  You can't treat a champion that way!

CL:  Please, this is pathetic.  Holliday gets the upper hand, and
Gibson immediately runs to his entourage for protection. How long is
he going to stall with this nonsense?

CROWD:  GIBSON SUCKS!  GIBSON SUCKS!  GIBSON SUCKS!

CL:  And the crowd is certainly making sure Gibby knows what they
think of this.

FH:  Their obviously from Canada.

[As the chant and Johnston's tirade continue, Holliday calmly walks
over to Herk Douglas, grabs the mic.

Doc Holliday:   "Ah don' mean ta soun'lak a broken record, but yer
main eventin' now, boy.  Ya don' git ta play hide an' seek no more,
less'n ya lak workin' high school gyms an' bingo halls fer forty bucks
a pop.  GIT IN THAR AN' FIGHT!"

CROWD:  *MASSIVE FACEPOP!*

CL:  Holliday is calling out the champion, but Gibby seems reluctant
to face Doc without his entourage backing him up.

FH:  Hey, if Holliday were a man he'd go over and face Gibson himself.
Gibby's the champion, Holliday should come to him, not the other way
around.

CL:  He has four other guys with him!

[As Holliday and Hayes trade barbs, Tom Landis takes the opportunity
to sneak up behind Hayes ad his entourage, and gives him a push, Hayes
hitting the ring apron.]

FH:  And there's that Tom Landis like a thief in the night!   Look at
him run after he assaulted Gibson Hayes!  Arrest him!

CL:  I don't think a little push qualifies as being worth the police's
time.

[As Hayes yells and berrates him, Holliday has rolled back into the
ring, and lines up, gets a running start, and jumps right through the
ropes with a dropkic to the back of Hayes's head.]

CROWD:  *FACE POP!*

FH:  NO!  Not fair!  This is because of Landis!  The champ has too
many distraction.

CL:  He has a virtual army backing him up, Fred.  Hayes took his eyes
off the challenger, and it's costing him now, as Holliday just
dropkicked him through the ropes, and now laying into him with those
punches.

FH:  Do something, Bubba!

LP:  He can't reach him now... he's across the line.  Unless, of
course, they want to test Xavier on enforcing his rules.  Heeheehee.

[As Holliday lays into Gibson Hayes, now slamming his head repeatedly
into the ground, Orel takes the opportunity to grab a soft drink from
one of the vendors, and throws it on Holliday.]

CL:  What the hell!?  What's he hoping to accomplish with that?

FH:  Obviously he saw Holliday was breaking a heavy sweat fighting the
great chamion of America, Gibson Hayes, and decided to show some
courtesy by cooling him off.

LP:  Pat just snapped his robe out onto Holliday... why would he.

*ZAP!*

CROWD:  *EARTHSHAKING HEEL POP!*

CL:  What the hell!?  Holliday just collapsed... wait, that's one of
Zeke Craven's electric robes!

LP:  HAHAHAHAHAAA!  Brilliant!  Orel just doused Holliday to intensify
the shock!  I love it!

FH:  Truly a genius plan by Hayes and company.

LP:  Holliday is pulling himself back up after that jolt...

CROWD:  *HEEL POP!*

LP:  ...and Hayes just kicked Holliday back across the red line... you
know what that means.

*CRASH*

FH:  It's legal for Bubba to that!

CL:  Bubba just knee breakered Holliday onto the guardrail, he may
have just broken Holliday's knee.

LP:  Look on the bright side... he won't have to fake limping anymore.

FH:  This is deplorable, this is an outrage, Holliday cannot stop
himself from repeatedly hitting Bubba's fists with his face!

CROWD:  BOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

CL:  And now the whole gang is on the act!  The members of RAPE along
with Big Bubba are beating Holliday senseless!  This is uncalled for!
This match is supposed to be one on one!

[As the Hayes entourage continues to beat Holliday, Landis runs
in and jumps onto the guardrail, running along the railing and then
jumping off with a plancha into "Big Bubba" Hayes, sending him
crashing into the rest of Hayes's entrourage.]

CROWD:  *EARTHSHATTERING FACE POP!*

FH:  Yeah!  It's one on one!  So what do you call that from Landis!

CL:  Evening the odds.

FH:  Of course, it's okay when the gusy YOU LIKE do it.

CL:*sigh*

[Holliday slowly pulls himself back to his feet, Hayes, who's had
the chance to rest for the last few moments takes the opportunity to
charge in and blast Holliday's knee with a vicious yakuza kick, taking
him down.   He then jerks Holliday back up, hoists him up in the
kneebreaker position, and...]

*CRASH!*

CROWD:  *HEEL POP!*

CL:  Holliday just got dropped knee first into the ring steps!  He may
have just gotten his leg broken by that one!

LP:  Indeed he might.  A smart move by Hayes, zeroing in on the leg
after Big Bubba had softened it up for him.

[Finally taking interest in the ring action, Special Guest
Referee Xavier Feyr dains to enter the ring.]

FH:  Oh, looks like the Ref finished his snack break.

CL:  I'd say that finally they'll be some order here, but from what
I've seen of Xavier Feyr, I doubt this is going to change much.

LP:  Oh, no-no-no... it'll change... it's going to be much worse now.

CL:  ...your honesty is... disturbing...

LP:  Thank you.

[Gibson Hayes throws Holliday back into the ring before pulling
himself in. Grabbing Holliday by the foot, he places his own foot at
the back of Hollidays knee and stomps, then lifts Holliday up by the
leg and spikes him back down, knee first with a thud.]

CL:  The champion continues to work over Holliday's knee.  He's trying
to slow down the challenger any way he can.

FH:  He can't win if he can't even walk.

CL:  You may have a point there, Fred.  And it looks like that's
Gibson's plan, as he's locking Holliday into a half crab.  He's doing
his best to snap Holliday's leg with the hold.

LP:  Good technique here by Hayes.  Notice the way he's positioned
more over the leg than the back, and is wrenching the knee to the
side.  This moves the pressure to the leg more than the back, allowing
him to target the weakened area. What's more, Holliday can't escape
without pulling on the injured leg, which makes powering out
of the hold extermely painful.

CL:  Your knowledge of how to maim, cripple, and torture human beings
is frighteningly extensive.

LP:  We all have our hobbies.

FH:  She's a woman of many talents.

CL:  Holliday is in agony right now.  That leg has taken quite a
beating, and Gibson Hayes is milking it for all it's worth.

FH:  I think I hear him giving up, call for the bell Xavier.

CL:  I didn't hear that.

[Holliday reaches desperately for the ropes, his arm falling just
inches short and striking the canvas.-

FH:  Look at him, he's tapping.

CL:  He's reaching for the ropes, Fred.  He's not going to give up
without a fight.

LP:  Heheheh.

CL:  What's so funny?

LP:  Nothing... you'll see.

[Doc Holliday again reaches for the ropes touching them for a
moment, but still unable to get a grip.]

FH:  Holliday's finished.  It's over.  He should just give in now.

CL:  He's too close to quit now...

[Holliday reaches one last time, and gets his hand firmly on the
ropes to the crowds cheers.]

CL: He made it, he got the ropes!

[Holliday grips the ropes firmly, but Xavier just stands there,
making no attempt to break the hold, simply smiling amused at the
whole situation.]

FH:  Xavier doesn't seem to care though.. must be more of his custom
brewed house rules.

LP:  HAHAHAHAHAAAA!

CL: You think this is funny!?

LP:  Why, yes, I do.  This is quality entertainment.  Two gladiators
in a fight to the death.  It's one of the oldest forms of
entertainment in human existence.

CL: ...*sigh* Sorry, I forgot I who I was talking to for a moment
there.

FH:  Holliday can't escape, it's over.

LP:  Oh, I wouldn't push it that far.  He just has to show more
ingenuity.

CL:  Holliday still has his hands on the ropes... and he's screaming
in pain now.

[Holliday gets both hand firmly on the ropes and continues pullng
himself towards them, straining through the pain, he pulls himself to
the edge of the apron, and right out of the ring.]

FH:  Look at him run away!  What a coward!

CL:  Holliday just pulled himself out of the ring.  He broke the hold!
And a good thing too.  I don't know how much more his leg could take.

FH:  Dangit!  Gibson had it won.  Well, no matter, he can finish him
off easily from here.

[Gibby speaks to Xavier for a second, apparently asking if he
won, but Xavier calmly shakes his head.  Hayes looks irritated for a
moment, but goes right back after Holliday, reaching throught the
ropes to grab Holliday by the hair, Doc having leaned up against the
apron for support.  What Gibby fails, to notice, however, is the
Holliday fishing something out of this trunks.]

LP:  Oh, he should be more careful around Holliday than that...

FH:  Why-NO!  He's cheating!

CROWD:  *FACE POP!*

CL:  Holliday just decked Gibson Hayes with brass knuckles... he must
have taken those out of his trunks.  The champion can't seem to afford
taking his eyes off Holliday for a moment.

[As Gibson Hayes reels from the shot, Holliday pulls himself up
onto the apron, and slingshots himself in, blasting Hayes right in the
face with the brass knuckles again in midair.]

FH:  COME ON!  GET THOSE OUT OF THERE!

CL:  No disqualification, Fred.  And Holliday is taking full advantage
of it now. He's pummeling Hayes in the face with those brass knuckles,
and the champions blood is everywhere!

FH:  This is sickening!  How can anyone condone this.

LP:  Like this... I fully condone all acts of violence and mutilation
of human beings for entertainment purposes.

FH:  ...I'd be frightened, but out of you, somehow... that's hot.

CL:  Maybe you should try thinking above the navel.

[As Doc pummels Hayes senseless, Xavier reaches into one of his
pockets and pulls out what appears to be a piece of sandpaper.  He
taps Holliday on the shoulder, who turns around raising a fist ready
to fight, but Xavier calmly hands him the sandpaper.]

XF: [heard over the camera] Here, use this.

FH:  WHAT!?

CL:  Xavier just handed Doc... sandpaper?

[Doc Holliday shrugs, takes the sandpaper from Xavier, and
proceeds to start rubbing it against Hayes's already wounded
forehead.]

Gibson Hayes:  AAAAAAUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

FH:  SOMEONE STOP THIS!

LP:  Why?  It's just getting fun?

CL:  This is getting ugly.  Holliday is rubbing that sandpaper into
Gibby's wound, and he's screaming in pain like I've never seen.

FH:  This isn't a match anymore, this is torture!

LP:  I know... isn't it great!  I mean, it's almost org-

CL:  Let's not go there, thank you.

FH:  The champion is bleeding everywhere?  How much blood does he need
to shed for his country!?  When will the conspircies end!?

CL:  Holliday finally lets up.  I think for a moment there we saw
shades of the old Doc Holliday.

FH:  The OLD Doc Holliday?  You mean you HONESTLY think he's changed
at all?  He's not doing anything different than before!  The fans just
think it's okay when he does it now!

[Gibson uses this brief respite to take a breather, rolling to the
outside. Doc, however, has other plans for the champon, and rushes the
ropes for a suicide dive... but Hayes is no dummy, and he ducks.]

FH:  HAH!  He saw that one coming a mile awa-WHA!?

[With expert timing, Holliday slides down his back, lands on his
feet, spins Gibson around, and hammers him with the left jab, still
wearing the brass knuckles.]

FH:  He's still got the brass knuckles damnit!  Why does he have to
use weapons all the time!?

CL:  To be fair, Gison did hit him with that loaded cast of his first.

[Meanwhile, Gibson decides that discretion is the better part of
valor, and scurries into the ring after getting up.]

CL: Hayes is right back in the ring, getting out of that situation as
best he can, but Holliday is right back in after him.  He's not about
to let him off that easily.

DH: [Heard over the camera]  Cam'on boy!  This is tha big leagues!
Show me wat'ya got!

FH:  Holliday's insane!  He's out to kill him!

LP:  Even better!

FH:  Whose side are you one!?

LP:  Who says we're taking sides?

CL:  I'm starting to see  perverse sense of fairplay here... Xavier
doesn't seem to care who wins, as long as these two almost kill each
other.

LP:  Well DUH!  It's not like I didn't tell you that from the get go
or anything.

FH:  Real show off intellect there, Chip.

CL:  Fred... shutup.

[As Holliday starts stomping away on Hayes, in between berating
him for not stepping up to the challenge enough, Xavier starts
throwing random objects in the ring.  Steel chairs, two-by-fours,
whatever happens to be around the ringside area.]

CL:  It looks like Xavier has decided to up the anty even more in this
match. Someone isn't getting through this isn't walking out of here
tonight.

[As Xavier continues throwing objects in the ring, Holliday
starts the crowd up on their favorite battle cry...]

CROWD:  GIBSON SUCKS!  GIBSON SUCKS!  GIBSON SUCKS!

FH:  Don't these people have any class!

CL:  Hayes looks pissed!  I think it's finallys tarting to get to him.

[Hayes, with a strain pulls himself up on the ring ropes, but
stumbles back down.  Holliday moves in, as Gibson grabs hold of a
chair that was sitting on the ring apron...]

CL:  A chair shot to the ribs!  Gibson Hayes suckered Holliday in with
that one... and the wind up...

*CRACK!*

LP:  Hayes showing a bit of killer instinct himself, just flooring Doc
with that shot, and he's not finished yet, measuring the challenger
for another one...

FH:  That's it, give the bastard a taste of his own medicine!  Gibson
charges...

*SMACK!*

CROWD:  *MAJOR HEEL POP!*

CL:  Hayes just floored Holliday with that running chair shot...
and... he's measuring him for antoher one!

FH:  Everybody now!  ONE MORE TIME!  ONE MORE TIME!

LP and FH:  ONE MORE TIME!  ONE MORE TIME!

CL:  Will you two stop!  Your supposed to be broadcasters, not
cheerleaders!

LP:  I'm not a broadcaster.

CL:  Point.

FH:  Here it comes!

[Gibson charges in with another chair shot, but Holliday ducks
this one, and Gibby puts the breaks on, turning to catch a chargin
Holliday with a back body drop over the top rope.  Holliday, however,
grabs the ropes to control his fall, landing cleanly on his feet.]

CL:  Quick thinking by both men, but Holliday the ever agile Doc
Holliday manged to land on his feet.

FH:  Hayes saw it though!

[As Holliday turns, Gibson Hayes dives at him with a suicide dive...
Holliday ducks, but quick-thinking Gibson does what Doc did; slides
down his back. Too bad Holliday turns and decks him with the left jab
AGAIN.  Gibby goes down like he's been shot.]

CL:  Smart move by Hayes, learning from Holliday's move before, but it
looks like the veteran had his own moves scouted.

FH:  This is too much!

LP:  Holliday runs the apron... plancha right into Hayes!  This is
getting to be fun!

CL:  The fans may be the winners with this match, but I'm not sure
either of these men will feel like winners after the beating they've
given each other!

LP:  Holliday staggers to his feet, that knee is still giving him
trouble.

CROWD:  BOOOOOOOOOOOO!

FH:  Obviously, look at him tripping over his own feet like that.

CL:  What!?  Come on!  RAPE just use one of the camera cords to trip
Holliday!

FH:  Don't be silly, they didn't even cross the line.  That would be
illegal.

LP: [proudly] I taught them that one.

CL:  True, that loophole in the Zero Tolerance Policy was first used
by our fellow commentator this evening, Dr. Lilith Pain, though I'm
not sure if that's something to be proud of.

FH:  She's an innovator.

[Holliday gets up, but is too close to the red line, and Bubbua
clocks him with a few right hands.]

FH:  Unbelievable!  Can't Doc stop himself from striking Bubba's
fists!  He might break a nail or something!

CL:  The entourage taking advantage of the stipulations again, but it
looks like Tom Landis has something to say about that.

CROWD:  *MASSIVE FACE POP!*

LP:  Tom Landis, once again intervening on Holliday's behalf.  He just
decked Big Bubba with a steel shair, and the rest of the Hayes's party
have decided to get out of Dodge.

FH:  NO!  That's assualt!  Call the police!  The National Guard!  The
Secret Service!  The Cavity Patrol even!

CL:  Hayes now wisely removing the brass knuckles from Doc's fist.
He's taken enough blows from that for the evening, and sends him right
back in the ring.

FH:  The champion is out for Doc's blood now... this kind of
disgraceful behavior won't stand with him.

*CRACK!*


*CRACK!*

CROWD:  *GROANS*

CL:  Gibson Hayes is laying into Doc's injured leg with that chair.

FH:  Yeah, it's too bad Holliday broke his cane earlier... he'll
actually need it now.

LP:  Ah, now we're using some engenuity.  Hayes just folded the chair
over Hollidays leg.

*CRACK!*CRACK!*CRACK!*

CROWD:  *GROANS!*

CL:  Hayes is stomping away on Holliday's leg!

FH:  Yeah, break it in as manny places as you can!  Now-HEY!  Why's
Xavier stopping him!

[Xavier reches up one leg of his jeans, and pulls out a red pipe
with electrical tape on it, and a name tag reading "PROPERTY OF MARCUS
MANSON".  He then hands it to Gibson Hayes.]

XF: [over the camera] Here, you can borrow this for a bit.

LP:  Oh, so that's why he asked Marcus to lend him that.

FH:  This match is SO cool!

[Hayes thanks Xavier, and starts pounding on Doc's leg through
the chair with the led pipe.]

*CLANG!*CLANG!*CLANG!*

CROWD:  *THUNDEROUS HEEL POP!*

CL:  This... this is sickening.  Xavier is just trying to turn these
men into monsters.

LP:  He's not forcing them to do anything, Chip... they're just acting
on what was already there.

FH:  Yeah, don't get so high and mighty, Chip.

CL:  You two are sick.

FH:  Realx, Chip.  It's almost over.

CL:  It looks like it may be... Hayes seems to sense it.  He's
practically beeming.

[Satisfied with the damage done, Hayes discards the pipe, and
reaches for Hollidays leg... but as he does so, Holliday pulls the
salt from his tights and throws it right into his face.]

CROWD:  *AREAN SHAKING FACE POP!*

FH:  NO!  He's blind!  The champion has been blinded!

CL:  Holliday no stranger to dirty tricks, and he just used one of
them to buy himself some time.

[As Hayes stumbles around rubbing his eyes, Holiday pulls imself
up to his feet using the ropes, and creeping up on Hayes grabs his
arm, whips him into a shortarm cobra neckbreaker.]

CL:  Canyon Runner!  Holliday is still in this thing!

FH:  NO!

LP:  It's never over until someone stops breathing.

CL:  Let's... hope it doesn't come to that.

[Holliday raises a hand in the air, sensing victory in sight, he
grabs Hayes's leg, and turns him over as if for a half-crab, but
twists back over and clutches Hayes's ankle, wrenching it as best he
can.]

CL:  The Cactus Apple Clutch!  That painful hold is giv Holliday a bit
of revenge for his what Hayes did to his leg earlier!

FH:  Why!?

LP:  This is an engenius hold on Hollidays part, as it can work any
section of the leg you want.  Personally, I think it's best to twist
at the anlke, wrenching to the side, with periodic thrusts foreward to
keep the pain from turning it completely numb.  The kind of pain
produced by that is like sudden rush of heat through the body that
makes me shudder just thinking about it.. oooooh.

FH:  ...I will never call technical wrestling boring again.

CP:  Just remember that she was talking about two guys mat wrestling,
not herself.

FH:  AUGH!  GROSS!  Must... wash... BRAIN!

LP:  You said that just to torment him didn't you?

CP  I give in to temptation sometimes...

LP:  There may be hope for you yet.

[Holliday continues the hold, wrenching Gibson's ankle.  Gibby
reaches for the ropes, but finds them to be terribly out of reach.]

CL:  Gibson is nowhere near the ropes with this one.  There's nothing
he can do!

FH:  No!  It can't end like this!

LP:  Nowhere to go... nowhere to run... he'll have to submit, or think
fast before his leg is mangled beyond recognition.

FH:  Stop scaring me like that!

[As Hayes finds himself unable to reach the ropes, he reaches
into his tights instead.]

CL:  What's that in his hand?

FH:  Asprin, matches like this give him headaches... especially when
he keeps getting hit by foreign objects.

LP:  I believe it's salt.

[Hayes braces himself, takes a deep breath, and turns suddenly,
wrenching the hold loose just enough to turn to face Holliday and
throw the salt into his eyes.]

CROWD:  BOOOOOOOOOO!

CL:  Holliday just released the hold, and Holliday has a moment to
catch his breath.

FH:  Thank God!  For a second there I th-HEY!

[As Gibby fans himself, Holliday pops a pair of contact lenses out of
his eyes, winks to the carmea, and then continues acting as if he were
blinded.]

CL:  What the hell!?

LP:  Those are some special contact lenses that were designed by
Holliday's old manger Tex James back in the day.  They absorb any
sediments that get into the eyes... like say SALT.

FH:  See, this is what I mean by hypocracy.  The fans love this guy,
but he's so much of a cheater that he's investing money in researching
new ways to cheat!

CP:  I'm not sure that anti-salt contact lenses qualify as cheating.

FH:  Excuses, excuses.  It's foreign object, it should be banned.

CL:  You mean like that fork Gibson Hayes just pulled from his boot?

FH:  Perfectly legal.  He even named the move.

[Gibson readies the fork to jab Holliday with it, but as he moves
in, Holliday suddenly drops his ruse, and dropkicks Haye's legs out
from under him, sending Hayes face first to the mat.]

FH:  Hey!  Don't do that!  He could put his eye out!

CL:  Please... that's-

GH:  AAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

CL:  or... maybe not...

[Gibson Hayes begins wrything on the ground, clutching at his
yes, his other hand wrapped around the sticking between his fingers
covering the eye, red ooze coming from the spot covered by his hand.]

FH:  This is a travesty!  He's blinded the champion!  How can you
justify this!

CL:  This... this is unpresidented folks... I've, never seen anything
like this

GH: [crying and screaming] OH GOD!  WHY!?  WHY!?

[Holliday stands in shock for a moment, as Gibby crawls towards
him, gips his trunks with one hand, gazing up at him pleading with is
one good eye... and punches him right in the groin.]

CROWD:  *EARTHSHATTERING HEEL POP!*

CL:  WHAT THE HELL!?

[With a laugh, Hayes drops the fork, revealing that his eyes is
fine, and clocks Doc in the forehead with the cast.  He then reaches
to the ground and holds up a small packet of ketchup for the camera to
see.]

FH:  Brilliant!  Hayes is a genius!

LP:  That, or he just saw the movie "Hot Fuzz".  But still pretty
clever.

CL:  A cunning, if dastardly ruse on the part of Hayes.  Once again,
he's turned the tables with his chicanery.

FH:  The champion with an inverted atomic drop on Holiday... and some
nice forearm shots.  Those are a great trademark of his.

CL:  It's a loaded cast!

[As Holliday staggers, Hayes boots him in the gut, hooks a leg,
and snaps him back with a quick cradle suplex.]

FH:  The Red Line!  It's over!

LP:  No pin falls, remember?

FH:  DAMNIT!

[Hayes, realizing that no count is coming stands up and starts
berrating Xavier who just stares at Hayes, looking bored.  Todd
Johnston begins yelling at Xavier as well from outside the ring, but
the guest ref seems quite disinterested.]

CL:  There are no pinfalls... that saved Hayes more than few time
already.  He needs to let it go and focus on his opponent.

LP:  Speaking of which...

[As the argument continues, Holliday creeps to his feet, and grabs a
tire-iron that had been hidden in his boot.  Johnston sees it and
starts yelling to Gibby to turn around, but Hayes doesn't realize the
cause of Todd's rant has changed.  Xavier just stands, looking at
Hayes for a moment, amused at the  situation.]

FH:  No Gibson!  Behind you!

[Finally realizing what Todd is talking about, Hayes spins around,
just in time to get smacked over the head with the tire iron.  Blood
spatters onto Xavier, who calmly whipes it from his face with a smile,
as Holliday takes a few more shots at Gibby with the tire iron.]

CL:  This is a brutal match folks, but it has to end soon.  I don't
know how much more these two can take...

LP:  Heh, you obviously haven't seen many of Holliday's old matches.

FH:  Holliday is a thug!  He's not wrestling, he's mugging him, like a
thief beating an old lady to death to get the money for his next crack
high.

CL:  Did you just compare Gibson Hayes was an old lady?

FH:  Er... uh... SHUTUP!

[Sensing the end in sight, Holliday hooks Gibby in a revers half-
nelson, lifts, and plows him face first into a steel chair, driving
his forearm into the back of Gibby's head on the way down.]

CL:  That could be it!

[Xavier checks Hayes for a moment, then shakes his head, signaling
that the match will continue.]

CL: Amazingly, Gibson Hayes is still concious after all that.

FH:  The chamion isn't going down that easily.

CL:  But how much more of this can he take?

[Amazed that Gibby is still not out of it, Doc starts pummeling him
with forearms, elbows, and slamming his face into the chair.]

FH:  Holliday has lost it!  Look at him!

CL:  I think both men have been pushed over the edge by this match.
Let's just pray that it ends soon, for both their sakes.

LP:  Really?  I could watch this all night.

CL:  Yes, but you're insane.

LP:  That's a relative term.

FH:  She's got you there, Chip.

[As Holliday continues the beating, he props up Hayes in the corner,
then goes back for the steel chair.]

FH:  What's he doing now?

LP:  Finishing things, it seems.

CL:  Holliday just wedged that chair between the ropes right in front
of Gibby's face...this can't be good for the champion.

LP:  Doc's backing up for a good running start here.

FH:  This is going to suck...

[Raising his hands to the crowd for a moment, Holliday charges,
springboards off the second rope, and dropkicks the chair right into
Hayes.]

CROWD:  HOLY SH**!  HOLY SH**!  HOLY SH**!

CL:  What a move from Holliday!  It could be over right there....
but... why is he pulling him up again?

FH:  I told you, he's lost his mind!

LP:  It's not so bad, once you get used to it... besides, this won't
end as long as Gibby's still concious, so he's got to finish him off.

[Hollidy, with an effort, still favoring the bad knee, hoists
Hayes up onto the top turnbukle, facing the outside of the ring, and
then climbs up after him.]

CL:  Back superplex coming...

CROWD: *MASSIVE POP!*

[As Holliday attempts a back superplex.  Gibson makes an instinct
move and turns around in midair, spiking the back of Holliday's head
to the mat with a bulldog!]

FH:  YES!  He turned the tables on him!

CL:  That counter may have been all instinct, but Hayes may have just
saved the title for himself there!

LP:  Both men are down and out...

FH:  It's a tie... the champion retains!

LP:  Think about how Xavier does things for just a moment. [pause]
Now, do you honestly think he's gong to stand for a mere tie?

FH:  ...damnit.

CL:  Gibson is the first to stir... and look at Xavier... he's loving
every moment of this.  The ring is just covered in blood at this
point!

[Hayes slowly makes his way to the feet, holding himself up on the
ropes, his hair caked with is own blood.  He looks down, and sees the
blood covered chair that was kicked into his face earlier, and then
looks over at Holliday.]

LP:  Hayes sees revenge.

FH:  Payback time.

Hayes drags Holliday over to the corner, wedging the chair over his
face, and then, getting running start, baseball slide dropkicks the
chair right into Hollidays face.]

*CRACK!*

CROWD:  *GROANS!*

CL:  Hayes giving a Holliday a taste of his own medicine, but it
doesn't look like he's through just yet.

LP:  Revenge is never so simple.

[Hayes strikes Holliday repeatedly with the cast.  Then, seeking
a bit more payback, picks up the chair and lines up a shot.]

CL:  Here we go again.

FH:  Holliday's up...

*SMACK!*

FH:  ...and now he's down again.

CL:  That runnng chair shot certainly rattled the veterans brains a
bit.

FH:  Finish him off, Gibby!

[He's certainly trying.  Dragging Holliday back to his feet, Gibson
slowly hoists Holliday up to the top rope, and then climbs up after
him in superplex position.]

FH:  Superplex coming!

CROWD: *FACE POP!*

[Possibly on instinct, Holliday starts punching Gibson Hayes, fighting
off the supreplex attempt...]

CL:  There's life in Holliday yet!

LP:  Holliday's got Gibson up!

CL:  Oh no!

*THUD!*

[Mustering all his remaining strenght, Holliday lifts Hayes up, and
suplexes him back, out of the ring, sending him crashing to the arena
floor.]

CROWD:  HOLY SH**!  HOLY SH**!

FH:  HOW!?  NOOOO!

[Dropping to the mat... Holliday struggles back his feet, as Xavier
slips outside to check Hayes for a moment.]

CL:  How are these two not dead yet?

FH:  Holliday is on steroids!  I know it!

[As Xavier determines, much to everyone's surprise that Gibby is still
alive, Holliday shakes out the cobwebs.  Todd Johnston grabs a bottle
of water, and splashes it on Gibson, who begins crawling towards his
comrades.]

CL:  I can't believe this.

FH:  Lookout!  Incoming!

[Sure enough, Holliday slingshot planchas out of the ring, right into
Gibson Hayes... unfortunately for Doc, he ends up landing within reach
of the entourage.]

CROWD: *MASSIVE HEEL POP!*

CL:  COME ON!  How is Holliday supposed to compete with these people
here to help Hayes at every opportunity!

FH:  Hey, he has Landis... speaking of which, there he goes again,
cheating!

[Once again, Landis cuts shorts Hayes's backup crew, dropkicking Pat
into the ring apron.  Orel moves in to grab him, and Landis pushes him
into the guardrail, breaking his grip.  TJ begins berrating him, and
gets punched, and slammed face first into the security railing for his
trouble.  Pat goes after Landis, when suddenly...]

CROWD: *EARTHSHAKING MIXED POP!*

FH:  WHAT THE F***!

CL:  Xavier just kata-hajime suplexed Pat on the arena floor!  He's
out cold!

LP:  He crossed the red line... he really shouldn't have done that.

CL:  Johnston is livid... which is to say, he's the same as always.

FH:  This is a conspiracy!

CL:  The odds may have just gotten a little more even.

[As Big Bubba and Orel trade blows with Landis, Gibby slowly tries to
crawl away, only to be grabbed by Doc Holliday, who begins dragging
him back.]

CL:  Gibson isn't going to be getting any more breaks it would seem.

*CRASH!*

FH:  Holliday just slung the champion into the rings steps!  No!  Not
that-

*CRASH!*

LP:  A flying avalanche into the ringsteps... NICE.

CL:  Holliday has gotten, what I guess would be a thrid or fourth
wind.  He leaps to the apron.. flying headscisso-POWERSLAM!

CROWD:  *DISAPPOINTED POP!*

FH:  The champion shows once again his great presence of mind.

CL:  I won't argue that one.  Hayes has his moments...

CROWD:  BOOOOOOOOOOO!

CL:  ...but then there are things like this!

[Hayes drags up Holliday and holds him, while "Big Bubba" Hayes
punches Holliday repeatedly in the ribs.]

FH:  Hey, they're just performing the hymlick maneuver... Holliday was
choking on his own ego.

[As this continues, Landis clothelines through Orel... but
accidentally steps over the line in the process...]

LP:  Oh, he'll be sorry for that...

CROWD:  *ARENA SHAKING HEEL POP!*

CL:  WHAT THE HELL!?  Xavie just implant DDT'd Landis!  What's going
on!?

LP:  He crossed the red line... he warned them about that.  Didn't you
see what he did to Orel for the same thing?

FH:  Yeah, it's only fair, Chip.  Have to apply the rules equally.

CL:  Your concern about the rules seems to be very selective.  And now
the numbers game is clearly in Hayes's favor!

[Speaking of the numbers game, Bubba has now grabbed the ring bell.]

FH:  Yes, Bubba, go on and ring the bell.  It's all over.

CL:  This is disgusting!  Hayes can't win on his own, so he's going to
have his cronies beat Holliday for him!

FH:  Yeah, like Holliday never did that in his life.

[Bubba measures Holliday, winds up... and decks Hayes with the ring
bell as Holliday slips lose of Hayes's grip.]

CROWD: *HAHA YOU SCREWD UP POP!*

FH:  NO!

CL:  Holliday with an enziguri for Bubba's trouble!

FH:  Hey!  No attacking the people at ringside!  They aren't in this
match!

[Holliday rolls Hayes back into the ring, and ascends to the top
turnbuckle, balancing on the top rope for a moment...]

CL:  Holliday gong up stairs... GUILLTINE LEG DROP!

FH:  This is a disaster!  Look at this mess!

[Holliday scrambles back to his feet, dragging Hayes up and then irish
whipping him to the corner.]

FH:  Come on!  Give the champ a chance to rest!  TIME OUT!  I call
time out!

CL:  There are not time outs, and even if there were, you couldn't
call them.

FH: [sulking] Stupid regulations.

[Doc hits a Sting-like flying avalanche in the corner... whips Gibson
across the ring and hits a second... then whips him across the ring
again.]

CL:  Stereo avalanches from Holliday... and one more for the road..

[This time, Gibson moves, but Doc puts on the brakes instead of
crashing into the turnbuckles, and lays down.]

FH:  No!  He's faking!  It's a trap!

[As Hayes groggily reaches down to pick up Holliday.  Doc grabs his
arm, slides between his legs, and comes up in a pumphandle position!

FH:  NO!  NO-NO-NO!

CL:  ACE IN THE HOLE!

[Holliday lifts and drops Gibson Hayes.. staggering back as his leg
starts to give, but still managing to drill Hayes into the mat.]

CL:  It could be over here.

LP:  His leg gave out part way through though... he didn't get the
full impact like Holliday wanted.

FH:  He can't do it!  He can't finish him!

CL:  It may be all academic from here though... Hayes is pretty out of
it.

[Looking around at the crowd, Holliday points to the top turnbuckle.]

CROWD:  *ANTICIPATION POP!*

CL:  Holliday is going up top again!

FH:  This isn't happening!  Damnit!  This isn't happening!

[Holliday steps out onto the apron and makes his way up playing
to the crowd as he goes.]

LP:  He always did like to play the crowd... HEY!  THAT'S MINE!

CL:  What the!?  Orel just took Lilith's whip!

FH:  I'm sure he's just borrowing it.

*THWAP!*

[As Holliday perches on the top rope, Orel lashes out with the whip,
smacking it into Holliday's leg, causing him stagger and fall... he
catch himself on the ropes however, and grabbing hold of the whip on
the second attempted lashing, pulls it away from Orel, throwing it to
the ground.]

CL:  Orel tried to use the whip to interfere in the match, but
Holliday's put a stop to that, and...

[While Holliday was distracted with the whip, Big Bubba tossed the
ring bell in, landing right next to Hayes.  Holliday signals to the
crowd and leaps off the top with a beautiful 450 splash...]

*DING!*

[Right into a ring bell shot from Hayes.]

FH:  YES!

CROWD:  *EARTHSHATTERING HEEL POP!*

CL:  Hayes just swung and clocked Holliday with the ring bell in
midair!  He's down!

*DING!*DING!*DING!*

[Hayes begins slamming the ring bell into Holliday's head again and
again.]

*DING!*DING!*DING!*

FH:  I hear the bell... did time expire?

CL:  NOT funny,

[As Hayes raises the bell to hit Holliday again, Xavier raises a hand
and says something to Hayes.  He then reaches over, raises Doc's hand,
and watches it fall limply to the mat.]

FH:  He's out!

[Xavier rolls out of the ring and goes over to Herk Douglas.]

HD:  Ladies and Gentlemen... Doc Holliday has been deemed unable to
continue... therefore, your winner... and STILL PVW AMERICAN
CHAMPION...

CROWD:  *WORLD ENDING HEEL POP!*

HD:  ...GIBSON "RED" HAYES!

FH:  This is a victory for America.

CL:  This match was brutal for both men, but Hayes had numbers on his
side, and that proved too much for Doc Holliday.  When will we see
Hayes fight on his own?

FH:  Hey, he one a perfectly clean match according to the rules.

LP:  Well, that was fun, gentlemen... I'll be seeing you.

[With that Lilith removes her headset and walks away from the announce
table, retrieving her whip, as Hayes celebrates in the ring, his
entourage trying to shake off the cobwebs, as their leader struts and
fake limps, mocking Doc Holliday.]

CL:  This is too much!  He already one the match, does he have to rub
it in now? Does he have any shame?

FH:  He can and will for one simple reason... he won.  Deal with it.

[As Hayes continues to celebrate with is entourage in the ring, Xavier
gets a bottle of water from ringside and pours it over Holliday's
face, who begins to stir.  Xavier then retrieves the belt from
ringside and brings it over to Gibson Hayes, who starts demanding that
Xavier raise his hand.  Xavier simply smiles and complies, raising the
champion's hand as the crowd boos.]

CL:  Does this guy ever stop?

FH:  Stop?  He can't be stopped!  He's the American Champion.

[Regaining some of his senses, Holliday sees the celebration and grabs
hold of the ring bell.  Rolling over to crouched position behind
Gibson, he lines up, Xavier looking right at him.]

FH:  Hey!  Lookout behind you, Gibby!  Xavier!  Do something!  Tell
him!

[Xavier gives a cheesy grin and double thumbs up to Gibby, who raises
the belt over his head triumphantly... but then his face turns to
frown, as Xavier mockingly points in the classic "look behind you
fashion".  Hayes turns, just in time to get clocked right in the face
with the ring bell.]

*DING!*

CROWD:  *MEGA FACE POP!*

*DING!*DING!*DING!*

[Holliday lays into Gibby several times with the ring bell before
stopping, and draping the American title over the unconcious
champion.]

CL:  Holliday getting a bit of revenge on Hayes for the cheap win.
But Gibson Hayes still remains the champion.

FH:  That was uncalled for!

[As Holliday rises back to his fee, he staggers back, and bumps right
into Xavier Feyr.  Spinning around, the two are now face to face, a
wicked smile on the face of Holliday's former friend.]

CL:  Like staring into the future... you know these two are bound to
meet sooner or rather than later.

FH:  Take a good look, Holliday... that's your future... and it's the
one you deserve.

[And we fade with the Chicago fans going wild ...]


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

           Credits:
Brian: Grimsson/Benedict, Marley/Williams, Ryder/Wright,
Apache Blood/Fontana and Dr.X, Martinez/Geds/Cassel,
Urban Legend/Prophets/Jokers Wild/Livestock and Gutch
Jer: Landis/Demon Shadow
Nate: Holliday/Hayes

Feel like your missing out and interested in helping? Just email
pvwinc@gmail.com  =)

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