[July 1st, 2008, very early in the morning.]

[A hospital waiting room.  Semi sits in the waiting room, still in his
wrestling gear from End Game.  A large brace covers his knee, courtesy
of the Prophets of Rage, and a set of crutches rests on the chair next
to him.  He looks around the room with impatience.  Nightfire sits in
the chair next to him, thumbing through a magazine.  Semi grabs his
crutches to help get up, Nightfire gives him one of her trademark
glares,  and he puts the crutches back down.]

[Stalker comes into the camera shot.  His arm in a cast, he's dressed
partly in his ring gear, and partly in his street clothes.  The
Stalker mask is nowhere to be seen, and we get a view of a tired, and
angry looking Johnny Styles.  Styles' arm of course being broken after
Shadoe Rage jumped on a chair that had Styles' arm trapped in it.  He
takes up the seat next to Nightfire, she gives him a sympathetic
smile.  Not a word is exchanged between the three.]

[A door opens a moment later, and Outlaw steps into the room.  His
ribs taped up from the damage he took when the Mercenary choke slammed
onto a ladder that folded up around him.  He walks gingerly, as
Nightfire gets up to help him, giving him a light hug, careful not to
hurt him.]

[Outlaw stands in front of his Urban Legend teammates.  They both look
up at him..]

Outlaw: Well that [bleep] sucked..

[Fade to black..]

#Survivor!#

[Finally, the voice of David Draiman, lead singer of Disturbed, and
their song "10,000 Fists" is heard.]

#Survivor!#

[Rob Cole, still bleeding from a hard match, points at the viewer.
Outlaw with the championship belt before there was ever even a
champion.  The Made Men looming over Laurel Levinger.  Jack Baldwin
talking to a thoughtful looking Judd Marley.]

#One more god-damn day when I know what I want,#
#and my want will be considered tonight,#

[The massive Jonathan Monarch stands behind an attitudinal-looking
Paul Styles.   A panicked Rick Marley, holding a gas mask before a
bug-eyed William Craven.  Livestock and the Gutch have each other in
headlocks while Zeke Craven rubs his temples.]

#HWA-HWA!#
#considered tonight!#

[Johnny Oakes with his ribs taped up.  The Spectre looking menacing.]

#Just another day when all that I want,#
#will mark me as a sinner tonight,#

[The Rage brothers, Derek and Shadoe with cigars and bottles of
liquor.  RJ Souza has himself a bat, and it looks like he's been using
it.  Christopher Michaelson looking cocky.  Shawn Covell and Gideon
Frost with Darius Walker, Walker addressing them in what looks like a
pep talk.]

#HWA-HWA!#
#I'm a sinner tonight, yeah!#

[Brian Young with a microphone.]

#People can no longer cover their eyes#
#If this disturbs you then walk away#

[Apollo Jones and Bones Ellis dancing...]

#You will remember the night you were struck by the sight of#
#Ten Thousand fists in the aaaaaaaaaair!#

[Chris Hartt holds high the Rising Phoenix Heritage title.  An image
similar to the previous; Chase Williams raising up the PVW Heavyweight
title.  The music goes instrumental again as we cut to the PVW
"Burning Effect" logo.]

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||           | |      \  /      \  /\  /               ||

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||          PHOENIX VALLEY WRESTLING PRESENTS          ||

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||    ,     ,     ,     ,     ,     ,     ,     ,      ||

||            On Strickland Sports Network             ||

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||_____________________________________________________||

|_______________________________________________________|



[Then fade in on the PVW studio.  Jack Britain is joined by "Putter"
Preston Winfiend as the two appear to be discussing something as the
music dies down.  Britain has on a corporate pinstriped suit while the
older Putter has on a Tiger Woods wannabe golf shirt and slacks.]

JB: PVW is revolutionizing the wrestling industry and we are back on
the air on Strickland Sports Network.  I am Jack Britain and my new
co-host is the one and only "golden throat", "Putter" Preston
Winfield!

PW: That's right I am on The Burning Effect and I would be lieing if I
said I was ecstatic to be here.  However it's your lucky day Jack you
get to finally work with a true professional and before too long The
Burning Effect will be the most watched program on SSN!

JB: There is no doubt PVW's popularity and viewership continues to
grow.  End Game hit a whole new unexpecting level for the PVW.

PW: It was an amazing show, but it was missing something...  I can't
seem to put my finger on it.

JB: Well we did see -

[Interrupting.]

PW: ME!

JB: Well look at the bright side Preston.  With the lighter travel
schedule you will get to work more on your golf game.

PW: You have a point, -but- my golf game doesn't need to be "worked"
on.  However you can't complain about playing _more_ golf.

JB: We will get more into End Games and Heatwave coming up, but we
have a lot to get to tonight and we are starting off with some remote
feed with the new PVW number one contender, Rob Cole.

PW: We are in for a long three months.


------------------------------------

Remote feed,

Rob Cole

------------------------------------


[The blood has dried, the wounds are stitched, and the bruises have
grown dark purple along the features of Rob Cole. From the hall of the
local hospital, the camera watches the Outcast from a distance. He's
alone... sitting beside a hospital bed, hands clasped before him, head
bowed in pain as he remembers Endgame. The scars will grow calloused
and pale, new skin will grow, but the memories will remain forever
etched in his gaze. Haunted by the specter of who he is, what he's
done, and what he will doubtless do again... Rob Cole takes a deep
breath and releases it with a shudder through his shoulders.]

Female Voice: Rob Cole? Robert? Are you ready?

[No. If he could speak, the answer would be obvious. Choked with pain,
his body a monument to horror. He continues to stare at his hands, the
fingers taped and the blood having dried but seeped through in places.
A nurse sighs heavily and clears her throat.]

Nurse: Mr. Cole? Can you hear me?

[Cole glances up, seeing the camera for the first time and seems
confused... He rises, wincing with the movement as a nurse brings in
the wheel chair. She steps to his side, attempting to guide him to the
chair. The Outcast turns a deadly gaze on the woman, and she steps
back in fear. A moment later and the hesitation speaks a volume.
Hospital rules, regulations, and all that junk... never one to take
the easy way, Cole lifts his bag of junk and walks out the door. He
ignores the protests of the nurse and stops dead in his tracks, eyes
wide as he stares past the camera. He seems... afraid?]

Female Voice (A different one, off camera): We thought we'd fly out to
see you... I thought you would need us here. They're already releasing
you, huh?

[A smacking sound can be heard, rapid...and Cole drops to his knees as
a little boy rushes up and dives into a hug that only a son can give
to his father. Cole is silent... eyes filled with tears as he ...
smiles. His features become unfamiliar for a moment, the lips peeling
back from his teeth as he clutches his son. This one is warm, caring,
and self-forgiving as he holds his son tight... he pulls his son away
after a long moment, looking deep into his eyes and seeing the
reflection of a thing that is not a monster. His son purses his lips,
demanding a smooch from his daddy without using a single word as the
"Hardcore" monster melts into the image of a proud father. He gives
his son a smooch, and the two hug once again.]

Boy: Hi, Daddy! You win???

[Rob Cole blinks for a moment... as if realizing something for the
first time since the horror of Barbed Wire. He looks up at his wife;
confusion warring on his features for a moment... her hand comes over
and cups his cheek, her thumb wiping a stray tear before he turns his
gaze back to his son. He sighs heavily, looking at his son with a soft
smile.]

Cole: Yeah... I think I just did, little man. I think I just did. You
ready to head on home?

Boy: Yeah, let's do it... let's go, Daddy! Come on!!!

[And with that, Cole touches hands with his son and turns his back on
the camera... walking down the hall where the double doors swing open.
His wife puts an arm around him, steadying his balance. The hardcore
legend, the monster beneath the bed, the proud father, and a man who
is sometimes better than he realizes steps into the brightness of the
afternoon sun as the camera blurs in to light.]


------------------------------------


JB: I know Rob Cole isn't your favorite guy in the world Preston, but
he fought a war with Spectre at End Game.  Spectre hadn't been pinned
in eight years and nobody in Spectre's long wrestling career had ever
kicked out of the rebirth.  That warrior... That gladiator... That
father did both.

PW: What are you his agent now?  Yeah he defeated Spectre I will give
him credit.  However it's a shame that Chase Williams isn't getting
his rematch.

JB: From what I've heard he will.  However Chase Williams held the PVW
Heavyweight title for six months.  Management is giving him a little
time off from the stressful duties of being the hunted and everything
that comes with being the Heavyweight Champion for a short bit.

PW: Thanks for nothing PVW management.

JB: Moving a long so we don't fall too behind we have five matches and
a bank full off footage to get too.  The Spirit of Arizona has some
words for The widowmakers.

PW: This should be good.

[Pausing.]

PW: Bathroom break time.


------------------------------------

Remote feed,

The Tucson Kid

------------------------------------


[SCENE: Downtown Los Angeles, California.

The busy city streets here are lined with tall buildings on each side,
shading us from the bright summer LA sun.  As all sorts of folks pass
us by, moving in both directions, there is a man in front of the
camera who stands out, even by LA standards.

He is the Tucson Kid.

Wearing a black bandana, tan leather frilled poncho, and jeans, Tucson
sticks out like a sore thumb here (mainly due to the poncho).  A wild-
eyed young man with a dark brown mullet and a thin goatee, Tucson
begins by pointing all around him.]


Tucson Kid: Came up here to the big city this week to work a show, and
I thought this would be the perfect place to talk about Heatwave.
This is Los Angeles, the City Of Angels.  I am surrounded by huge,
tall buildings.  Dwarfed.  And amidst these giants, I am a stranger to
everyone I see.

But the Tucson Kid didn't come here play tourist.  I came here to kick
somebody's hindquarters.  I'm the Spirit Of Arizona; tall buildings
don't impress me much.


[Tucson turns from the buildings to address the camera directly.]


Now this week on Heatwave, I will be surrounded by huge, tall men.
Dwarfed.  And a stranger amongst a bunch of guys with scores to
settle.

But I'm not going to Heatwave lookin' for autographs.  I'm comin' to
kick somebody's hindquarters.  Because I am the Spirit Of Arizona, and
reputations don't impress me much either.

My tag team partners are men that could physically destroy most motor
vehicles with their bare hands.  They are veterans with years of main
event credentials under their belt.  They've been called 'monsters',
'goliaths', and 'unstoppable'.  You look at me, and you look at
them... it doesn't take any imagination to figure out what the other
side is gonna do.  I'm sure my opponents have already made up their
minds on who the weak link is, and I'm sure they're coming to break
me.  That's just how you break a chain; you snap the weak link, and it
don't matter how string the rest is.  But there's something that
Widowmakers Incorporated ought to know...

...you can't break the Spirit of Arizona.  You wouldn't even know
where to begin.

I've heard everything there is to hear about Widowmakers Incorporated.
I know how you people think, how you people plan, and how you people
operate.  People like you... DO NOT UNDERSTAND people like me.  You
can't.  The concept is beyond you.  I don't do this for money.  I
don't do this for power.  I don't do this to feed some f'ed up ego
that needs to be stroked because my damn pride rules my life.  I do
this because it's the right thing to do.  I do this to show every man,
woman, and child with eyes to see, that they can take control of their
lives and make something of themselves, no matter what life dealt
them.  All you see is some punk kid who is half the size of the men
around him.  And that makes me smile.  Because you'll never figure out
what happened... what happened when you crossed paths with the Tucson
Kid.  What happened when you took your best shot at this link in the
chain and found out one lasting truth:

YOU were the weakest link.

Goodbye.


[And we fade.]


------------------------------------


JB: Every since day one, The Tucson Kid has came into the PVW and
hasn't backed down at all.  He has stood toe to toe with everyone the
PVW has stuck inside the ring with him.   From The Prophets to The
Widowmakers.  This kid is what every fan dreams they could be.

PW: What a bat boy for William Craven?

JB: I would strongly disagree with you there.

PW: You are just like Chip was.  You buy into all the hype and drama
that is stuck infront of you.  However in the end it's guys like The
Widowmakers who call the shots.  It's guys like Chase Williams who
overcome 15 other men and stand as your PVW Champion.  It's guys like
Gibson Hayes who do _whatever_ it takes to win.

JB: We will discuss the merits of what makes a superstar another time,
but PVW is proud to introduce Team Canada to our stacked tag team
ranks.  These two tag team legends are set to debut here tonight!


------------------------------------


Tag Team action,

Team Canada

-VS-

Action Packed

------------------------------------


[Cut from the studio and we are already into the match... Trevor "The
Hammer" Hextall is inside the ring with Paul Packed.   He has the
taller Action Packed member backed up in the corner and he is throwing
bombs!]

JB: The legendary Team Canada member, The Hammer is throwing bombs and
Paul Packed is trying to cover up.

PW: I don't know how you can call anyone from Canada legendary.  Do
they even golf up in Canada?

JB: Golf? I don't know, but they play hockey and wrestle why would
they even need golf?

PW: You didn't just say that.  You are a disturbed individual Jack.

[Hextall whips Packed across with a ring shaking Irish Whip... Paul
Packed stumbles out and right into a big leaping hockey check!!!!]


*POP!*


JB: To Coach Grapes Gilmour suprise the fans are giving Team Canada a
warm reaction here in California!

PW: It almost feels like we are in Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan or
something.

JB: Well Hextall is from there.

PW: How do you think I knew of that place it says it right here on my
sheet.  Who in the hell is from Moose Jaw anyways!?!

[Hextall locks onto the side of Paul Packed's head and ....
BULLDOG!!!!  He hooks a leg and the cover...]


ONE ...


TWO ...


JB: NO! Paul Packed was just able to get a shoulder up.  Hextall tags
in Bob "Bone Breaker" Jablonski.

PW: What a name.

[They lift Paul Packed up and whip him into the ropes and they take
him down with a double clothesline.  Jablonski drops a big knee as
Andy Action looks on.  Jablonski looks toward the smaller member of
Action Packed and tossed Paul Packed towards him...]

JB: It appears The Bone Breaker is giving Andy Action his chance to
get in this match.

PW: These Canadians aren't very smart are they?  They had Paul Packed
where they wanted him.  He could of finished Paul off right there.

[Andy Action and Jablonski lock up with an elbow-colar tie up...
Jablonski shoves the much lighter Action off him...  Jablonski charges
forward, but Andy Action is quick off his feet...  He unloads with a
few quick rights and hits the ropes and CROSS-BODY BLOCK!]


ONE ...


*POP!*


JB: Jablonski with a quick kick out!   Andy Action SPRINGBOARDS ....
ASAI MOONSAULT!


ONE ...


TWO ...


[... Another strong kick out by the legedary tag team wrestler. Andy
Action hits the ropes again and leaps... This time Jablonski catches
him.  A huge smile comes across his faces as his manager yells to
"SMASH HIM!"...]


"___THUUUUUUD___"


JB: POWERSLAM!

PW: Wait does he have all his teeth.  That's amazing!


ONE ...


TWO ...


THREE ???


JB: Andy Action _just_ gets a shoulder up.   Jablonski looks to be
ready to finish things off.  Team Canada has been in complete and
total control.  He has Andy Action up and ....


"___THUUUUD___"


PW: _STIFF_ DDT!

JB: He has Action back up and he is dazed....   Canada clutch!!!!!
Andy Action is in major trouble!

[Paul Packed rushes in, but is litterly taken off his feet by a HUGE
modified hockey check by Trevor Hextall...  Andy Action submits as
Jablonski tosses him aside.]

JB: Dominating debut by Team Canada.  These tag team legends are here
and ready to make a statement here inside the PVW!

PW: Wait until they step in the ring with Livestock and The Gutch or
Prophets of Rage then you can color me impressed.

JB: Team Canada has never dodged anyone.  You can bet they are here
and ready for the best PVW has to offer.

PW: We will see.

[Fade back to the studio.]


------------------------------------


PW: I hate you for making me sit through that.

JB: Hats off to Team Canada for doing what they have always done.
Come out and dominate in tag team action.

PW: Again we will see when they step in the ring with some true
talent.

JB: Next we will hear from our former PVW Heavyweight Champion, Chase
Williams.  You have to expect he will have some strong words for Brian
Young and PVW management.

PW: Do you blame him?

JB: Looking at it from management's side he should just relax and
before too long he will have his chance at redemption.

PW: Guys like Chase Williams don't wait.


------------------------------------

Production video,

Chase Williams

------------------------------------


[With little fanfare we find a man that was victim to the most _grave_
of injustices at the latest sham that Phoenix Valley Wrestling _tried_
to pass off as a Pay-Per-View! His title was _stolen_, and if that
single occurence was not enough, it was stolen by a has-been, a snake,
and no less than a two-faced jackass! But I digress, I could go on all
day insulting the absolute _joke_ that is walking around with his
belt, but I'll spare the viewers, they saw what he who must not be
named did! The real story, is the look of happiness? On the face of
the dethroned champion.]

"I bet you people thought I'd be ranting and raving about now. I bet
you thought I'd be throwing furniture around, maybe smash a few
mirrors and stomp around all pissed..."

[He chuckles to himself and shakes his head.]

"You think you know me so well, and you don't know me at all. Just
like your new false idol, the guy walking around with _my_ belt. You
didn't know him either... Did you?"

[One eyebrow is raised to emphasize the querie he posed for the
camera. Another brief chuckles follows as he shifts in his chair.]

"I could be mad. Believe me, it'd be easy to be pissed. That [beeping]
ponce _stole_ my belt. Not only did he steal _my_ belt, but he had to
_cheat_ to beat his little butt buddy! [Beep] even I never cheated to
beat _Foley_! How pathetic is that [beep]?"

[Pretty [beeping] pathetic if you ask me, but I'm just a bracket after
all.]

"How pissed can one be when he cannot stop laughing? I could've sworn
I was watching some stand-up comedy, watching that assholes little
routine. Pretty slick I'll admit, but you [beeped] up in two places
_champ_, and your little oversights are gonna catch up with you sooner
or later."

[He leans forward, elbows on  his elbows. The look of happiness is
replaced with one a little more serious.]

"You didn't beat _me_. _If_ you hang on to _my_ title long enough, I'm
gonna get a rematch and you won't have Robin there next time pull of
another stunt. You and I both already knew that on your best day
you're not fit to bring me a bottle of water, and now all your
precious fans know it too. Cashing in your entire career for a
transitionary run with my [beeping] belt? The people thought you where
better than that, but I knew. I knew from the beginning, and it
doesn't change a thing, _you_ still gotta live with the fact that you
took a chumps way out instead of facing me like a man. Either way,
your day will come, believe me, and when you're forced into the ring
with just _me_, the world will see that you're not only a coward, but
my [beeping] _bitch._"

[He leans back now, hands behind his head as he looks up to the
cieling.]

"See... Now that thats off my chest, I can address whats next, and
quite frankly, _this_ made me angrier than that guy stealing _my_
belt... Do I get a rematch? As the _first_ heavyweight champion in
this _sandbox_ do I GET A BLEEDING REMATCH?!!?"

[The chuckle is back again but it is underlyed by the exasperation in
its presence.]

"No..."

[He skakes his head.]

"NO!??!"

"I get the god damn STD of PVW, cause I can't get [beeping] rid of
him, thats right, Herpes, also known as Caleb Foley, has once again
been forced upon me in a tag match. I don't think I've been in a match
in this god forsaken rat hole, without Herpes!"

[For the record, Foley will thus forth be referred to as "Herpes"]

"And if _thats_ not bad enough, I have to lower myself to even climb
into the ring with that reject village idiot Outlaw... He's the most
pathetic sideshow, and has been for his entire career. The guy should
be in an asylum, not a wrestling federation, but if those two rubes
are what you want to put in the ring with me after what happened at
Endgame, I won't be held responsible."

[Pause. His eyes narrow and the glare... oh the glare!!!...]

"I've come this close."

[he snaps his fingers.]

"To ending little Herpes career on more than one occasion, only to be
saved by the guy that stole _my_ belt. What is gonna stop me now that
the guy that stole my belt no longer needs Herpes as a pawn?"

[An evil smile spreads across the face of the man who should be
champion.]

"It could all mercifully come to an end for little Herpes. Failure
after failure, career on life support, your fathers dead and Batman
stabbed ya in the back. I'd be doing 'ya a favor. Either way, I'm
ending our little situation, which means you very well could be
leaving the armory in a bag. If Outlaw insists on following you, so be
it, I'm sure Omni will be more than please to disembowel that annoying
little snot and pick his carcass clean.

"The blood your hands."

[Fade]


------------------------------------


JB: A very strong message from our former champion.

PW: If you keep calling him that he may come to the studio next week
and make you swallow your tongue.

JB: Okay from Chase Williams.

PW: I'm just saying.

JB: He will be tagging up with the mysterious OmniFly on Heatwave
let's go to to footage from OmniFly.

PW: Chase Williams and the KGB Agent, OmniFly it doesn't get more
dominating then that.


------------------------------------

Backstage segment,

OmniFly

------------------------------------


[The scene opens to the normal black background with "Omni" written on
the back wall. Sitting in his chair is OmniFly, and he doesn't look a
bit too happy.]

[Omni]: This is out of control. Out of control and ridiculous. Rick
Marley may have won that match, but he does not deserve that shot.
That shot falls directly and fully onto Omni...

[Omni shakes his head]

[Omni]: This continuing pattern of disrespect must be stopped. It's a
blight on this federation. Omni continues to have to carry this
federations weight through tag team matches and ladder matches and
blah blah blah...when Omni should be facing off in Main Event matches.
And here we are again...another worthless tag match.

[Omni]: Perhaps Omni was overly hard on Chase? He went into a gauntlet
laid down by PVW and was forced to fight two human wastes,
simultaneously. Could Omni have retained? Of course. But there is only
one Omni and Chase should not be judged on that. For who he is, it was
an...admirable...performance.

[Omni]: Outlaw...why? Why Outlaw? Why why why? Every time Omni comes
up for air, there is Outlaw, waiting to be defeated. You're holding me
back, boy. Not only that, but you have let Omni down.

[Omni stands up and begins to pace]

[Omni]: Where were you, boy? Where were you when the Rage boys were
hurting Johnny? Huh? Playing with your costumes? Coming up with your
next funny vignette? Was it worth it, "law"? It's all your fault that
Johnny is not here. You will be punished, boy. I promise you. I will
punish you for your absence. It will be fun, it will be easy, and it
will be necessary. Maybe then you will finally be out of my way and
simply another name on the list of those who could not cut it in the
ring with OmniFly.

[Omni]: Foley? This Irishman who continues to get opportunities and
continues to choke them away is nothing but a throw-in to this match.
PVW wants Outlaw crucified...and he will be...but they're afraid of
making their intentions too obvious. That has to be it. Otherwise,
what business do you have in this match Caleb? You've proven time
after time after time that you cannot beat Chase. And everyone,
including Daddy-dearest, knows you cannot even hold my jock. You're
filler, Caleb. If this were the NBA, you'd be in this move to make the
salaries match up. And it would probably have been you who killed your
father, but I digress...

[Omni gives a rare smile and sit down]

[Omni]: Times are a-changing in the PVW. And Omni holds the key. No
longer will Omni allow himself to be used by PVW. It ends now. And
with it will begin a new era...not just in PVW...but in wrestling,
period. Outlaw, Caleb...you two are in my way. And you will be
dispatched as such. One for Johnny, the other because of worth. And
when Chase and I are done picking your bones, we will both move on to
better things. Hopefully you two just move on.

[Scene fades]


------------------------------------


PW: Spoken like a true KGB agent.

JB: We will hear from their opponents later on tonight, but OmniFly
showed signs of his former dominance at End Game inside The Called
Shot.

PW: It was only a matter of time.  I told everyone from day one this
guy was going to be one of the top dogs inside PVW.  My prophecy is
starting to come to fruitation.

JB: It will be interesting to see if that mysterious Victory Lane mask
shows up at Heatwave again.

PW: It wouldn't, If whomever was playing games with OmniFly knew
better.  Do you know what KGB agents do to spies?

JB: I'm sure it's a very interesting story, but in the interest of
saving us all from a long drawn out boring story let's go right to
Tommy Ryder and Laurel Levinger.


------------------------------------

Remote Feed,

Tommy Ryder and Laurel Levinger

------------------------------------


[Tommy and Laurel are in their apartment.  Tommy is getting ready to
go somewhere while Laurel is sitting on the sofa]

LL: I have to give it to you Tommy, you've done really well in PVW.
Better than we hoped.

[Tommy has a smile on his face.]

TR: Well I have to give you your share of credit.  Sometimes I do need
that push.

LL: You didn't need it to get involved with the Widow Makers.  I think
that's what will really put us on the map.

[Tommy's mood darkens a little.]

TR: Yea, I'm just sorry that there's no women's division for you to
wrestle in.  And if I remember right, you weren't too keen on me
running back to the ring that first time or well even the second…

LL: Well, I may have been wrong about getting involved, but if I
remember correctly that first time you got involved with the Widow
Makers got us both laid out.

TR: I've said I was sorry about that.

LL: Don't worry.  I've gotten over that.

[At this point the doorbell rings and Laurel goes to answer the door.]

TR: Who was it?

LL: Did you send me flowers?

TR: You know I'd just give them to you in person.  Why?

LL: Well someone did.  The card says "From Nick".  You don't think...

TR: He can't be serious.  Let's just worry about it later.  We're
going to be late for dinner.

LL: I told you that you should have started getting ready sooner.  Oh
and I think it's time that you considered buying me some accessories.



------------------------------------


PW: What a gentleman.

JB: I don't know about that.  It appears Nick Wright is attempting to
cause a little problems in-between Tommy Ryder and Laurel.

PW: I disagree.  Guys like Nick Wright and I know how to treat a
woman.

JB: Well Tommy Ryder has a shot at the boss of WMI on Heatwave, Rick
Marley.

PW: Tommy Ryder can take it up with Marley if he so chooses.

JB: At End Game we crowned our first PVW Network Champion.

PW: I was told by Fred Hoyle that it's the SSN Network Champion.

JB: From my notes here it says PVW...

PW: Anyways go on.

JB: On Heatwave we will see the rematch of the final two men inside
that Battle Royal.  Dragon Kid appeared to have dominated the Battle
Royal, but came up short when Gibson Hayes ...

PW: The true American hero... Go on.

JB: Well he was laid out on the mat and looked done for when he leaped
up with a burst of energy and shoved Dragon Kid off the top ropes and
to the outside.

PW: Pure genius I tell you.

JB: It was 100% legal, but the cowardly move didn't sit well with
Dragon Kid and he has his rematch on Heatwave!


------------------------------------

Backstage segment,

Dragon Kid

------------------------------------


[The scene opens backstage at the American Legion in Reseda, CA.
Members of the PVW locker room are walking around and talking to each
other about their matches on the show. The camera moves through the
crowd and spots The Dragon Kid sitting against a wall with his head
down; almost in a meditative state. He's already in his ring gear and
most likely doing some last minute preparation for his big Network
title match later in the night.]

Cameraman: Excuse me...

[The Dragon Kid doesn't stir or move an inch.]

Cameraman: Umm, hello...?

[The Dragon Kid continues to look down in a trance. The camera man
decides to tap him on the shoulder to get his attention. DK raises his
head and through his mask, he looks straight into the camera.]

DK: watashi ga saisho ni PVW o kakiire ta toki ni, ooku no hitobito ha
watashi ga kanou datta mono o ga gimon ni omotta

(Post Production Added Subtitle - When I first entered PVW, many
people wondered what I was capable of.)

DK: watashi ha watashi ga watashi no debyuu no macchi no joniidiran no
pinfall o e ta ga, ippou de ha hitobito ga watashi ha senbatsu suru
koui o shouri o eru koto ga dekiru ka dou ka gimon ni omoi hajime ta
toki ni tekisetsu na sorera ni kotae ta

(Subtitle - I answered them proper when I got the pinfall on Johnny
Dylan in my debut match but then people started to wonder if I could
gain a victory in singles action.)

DK: shitagatte watashi ha diran ni mouichido chokumen shi ta. watashi
ha kare ni Go 2 Sleep o tsukuru to yakusoku de hairi, sono yakusoku o
mamotta

(Subtitle - So I faced Dylan once again. I went in promising to make
him Go 2 Sleep and I kept that promise.)

DK: shikashi seimei no subete no you ni, agaru nani ga kekkyoku ika
nakere ba nara nai sengetsu, watashi ga watashi ga The Prophets of
Rage ni kurushin da sonshitsu niyotte PVW de hitei sa re ta tassei shi
ta subete no shita ni soshite no ma...

(Subtitle: But like everything in life, what goes up must eventually
go down and for the last month, everything I have achieved in PVW has
been negated by the losses I suffered to The Prophets of Rage...)

[The Dragon Kid rises to his feet and continues to look in the camera
as he speaks. Despite the mask hiding his facial expressions, we get
the idea from the tone of his voice.]

DK: Rick Marley ni...

(Subtitle: To Rick Marley...)

[His tone becomes more deep and serious as he continues]

DK: Gibson Hayes ni!

(Subtitle - To Gibson Hayes!)

DK: hitobito ha kare no kai kara The Dragon Kid suteppu o tsukuru tame
ni itte i ta mono o tsuneni gimon ni omotta toru. End Game de, mina ha
sore o mokugeki shi ta

(Subtitle - People always wondered what it was going to take to make
The Dragon Kid step out of his shell. At End Game, everyone witnessed
it.)

DK: watashi ha kono supootsu no kihon gensoku nitsuite aru -- rokkaa
shitsu no mina no tame no meiyo soshite ten o iji shi te iru ma fan o
kokoro ni idaku koto

(Subtitle - I'm about the basic principles of this sport --
entertaining the fans while maintaining honor and respect for everyone
in the locker room.)

DK: donna Gibson Hayes ga End Game deshi ta ka byou no supan no sorera
no shugi no ryouhou ni ihan shi ta. kare ga youi na deguchi o toru
koto o eran da toki ni kare ha watashi oyobi fan ni kare ga kare no
aru koto ni ataeru taitoru beruto o mi ni tsuke te iru beki de ha nai
koto shoumei shi ta

(Subtitle - What Gibson Hayes did at End Game violated both of those
principles in the span of a second. When he chose to take the easy way
out, he proved to me and the fans that he should not be wearing the
title belt that graces his being.)

DK: watashi ga sono ringu de ayumu toki yori osoi konya,
watashi ha kare ga PVW ni suteppu irai takushi te i ta toru no ha 3
byou dake de aru subete no akuji o teisei suru you ni ito shi. soshite
purosesu de, watashi ha michi ni watashi ga mae ni tsuki made arui ta
koto - shouri oyobi eikou no michi modoru -- tame I WILL BE PVW
Network
Champion!

(Subtitle - Later tonight, when I step in that ring, I intend to right
all the wrongs he has committed since stepping into PVW and all it
will take is three seconds. And in the process, I will return back to
the path that I walked up until a month ago - a path of victories and
glory -- for I WILL BE the PVW Network Champion.)

[The Dragon Kid bows to the camera and walks out of frame as we fade
out]


------------------------------------


JB: Dragon Kid seems pumped and ready.  He has came in and raised some
eyebrows.  It's only a matter of time until this kid has some gold
around his waist.

PW: That may be true, but not at Gibson Hayes expense.

JB: Let's hear from our PVW Network Champion.

PW: SSN Network Champion.


------------------------------------

Production video,

Gibson Hayes

------------------------------------


V/O: The following message was paid for by the American Society for
Safety, Health, Obdience, Liberty and Education and generous donations
from viewers like you and was in no way paid for by Gibson Hayes.

[We come to Gibson Hayes walking on a generic street in some city in
Southern California. An Asian nail salon, Mexican taqueria, Korean
convienence store and other strip mall regulars can all be seen.
Gibson is wearing red, white and blue wrestling trunks for some reason
as he makes his way to where ever he is going. He has on a t-shirt
with a caricature of him and the freedom eagle. The two of them are
giving the thumbs up in a very typical cartoony pose. Gibson takes a
deep breath and smiles. Oh, he also is wearing the PVW Network belt
around his waist.]

Hayes: Ah, the sweet air of freedom.

[Gibson takes another large whiff of air, but this time his nose
crinkles.]

Hayes: Freedom smells quite a bit like wet dog.

[Shrugging his shoulders, Gibson does a two step to avoid dog poo on
the sidewalk.]

Hayes: So here we are, after End Game. Kind of odd that the whole
thing was called End Game and stuff is going on after it. I mean,
c'mon, after mom, dad, apple pie, Uncle Sam, baseball, the ghosts of
George Washington and Thomas Jefferson congratulated me on liberating
the Network title from the unwashed, huddled masses yearning to steal
our precious free air there really is no where to go.

[Gibson nods solemnly. He also keeps walking because that's what you
do in these sort of vignettes.]

Hayes: However...

[Gibson raises his right index finger.]

Hayes: ...what could be more American than television? The wife,
mother, teacher and secret lover of all Americans has chosen me, your
humble servant fighting for freedom where ever there is trouble, yours
in religiousocity, Gibson Hayes, as her champion. Television, her
maiden hood threatened by dirty foreigners and uncouth louts, has
blessed me, Gibson Hayes, to carry her mantle. I, Gibson Hayes, am to
carry the burden of making sure our airwaves are free of things that
make proud Americans think. Gibson Hayes, me, is the guardian of all
good taste and here to ensure that the US is a no spin zone! Why?
Because if evil liberals and foreigners had there way they would
demolish our precious nation's foundation with their different
languages and customs. I'm American, damn it, and I don't have to
learn any new damned languages. Speak American or leave it buckos!

[Gibson makes a fist and pumps it in the air.]

Hayes: The Dragon Kid is someone that springs to mind when it comes to
those who would attack our shining city on a hill. He, above all
others, is here to spread dissent amongst our ranks. Him and his "waa-
waa, bok choi" namby-pamby "language". All he does is make clicking
sounds and sounds like he is going to hock a loogie or cough out a
lung. I heard you and your "translator" on one of those shows they
broadcast. Hard working foreigners, foreigners who know they are
genetically inferior to true Americans, slave away at jobs real
Americans are too good to take, learning American because they know it
is better than any other language on Earth. Even those fellows across
the Atlantic Ocean, England or something, they are trying to learn
American. But the Dragon Kid, does he bother to learn our language?
No! He has the audacity to click and spit his horribly primative
"language"! He hires someone to pretend to translate when we all know
the Dragon Kid is just like that gal from that movie Nell! He makes it
all up! Will you stand for something like that America? Will you allow
your children to fall prey to the liberal, homosexual, Godless,
Atheistic Communist agenda?

[Gibson cocks his eyebrows at the camera.]

Hayes: Without me to protect our nation's airwaves your sons and
daughters could come home in hemp woven body bags.

[Nodding his head with a completely serious look on his face, Gibson
stares ahead. Something catches the eye of "Our Nation's Last, Best
Line of Defense".]

Hayes: However, not all foreigners are bad... well, okay they all are
but some provide useful entertainment!

[Gibson has come across a man dressed in an olde tyme organ grinder's
uniform, complete with fez and dark blue vest! As this red headed
meanace kind of plays with the music box, first not knowing which
direction to turn then turning to fast, his monkey, which looks an
awful lot like a black and white penguin with a fez and cup taped to
it, is snapping at what few passers by stop to look.]

Organ Grinder: Bad Mr. Panguan! No to bite peebles with monies! Ow! No
to bite Ilyas!

Penguin: SWQUANK!

Hayes: See? Where else but in AmerEc... er America could a village
idiot and some sort of mutant dog from Chernobyl find opportunity? It
is this precious, if stupid and unnecessary, bit of freedom that I
strive to protect. I love you America *under his breath* as long as
you pay me *normal voice* and you love me!


------------------------------------


JB: Give me a break.

[Preston wipes a tear from his right eye.]

PW: Gibson Hayes knows how to touch you.  What a true American icon we
can all get behind.  I am proud to have him as our Network Champion.

JB: I... I... Folks let's just go to the next footage.



------------------------------------

Backstage segment,

El Hijo Del Sol

------------------------------------


<>

[EL HIJO DEL SOL]:"Oye me! It's good to be back brother. Back in Los
Estados Unidos -- where the reception is warm and the nights are mas
caliente!

<>

[EL HIJO DEL SOL]:"Everywhere I go the hot mah-mees are lining up.
They want a piece of this -- la 'Ultima Machina' essay. The Latin Love
Machine. El Chico Mas Rico. El Luchador that always gives you more."

<>

[EL HIJO DEL SOL]:"The list of names -- las mamacitas me llaman --
goes on forever. And while they all sound -- so sweet to my ears --
one name stands above them all. The one I want to be called all night
long..."

<>

[EL HIJO DEL SOL]:"Champion."

<>

[EL HIJO DEL SOL]:"Like my father before me and his father before him.
I too desire championship gold. Wearing the mask of El Gran Sol with
honor, dignity and respect they were great champions of Mexico."

>

[EL HIJO DEL SOL]:"And so too will El Hijo Del Sol follow in their
path."

<<  Tapping his chest with two fingers he points back towards the
camera as the scene fades to black>


------------------------------------


JB: El Hijo Del Sol comes with a glowing resume.  He has become a
legend in Mexico and has had a few successful stints in regional
promotions in the states.

PW: See this is exactly what Gibson Hayes was talking about!

JB: Oh geez... Not this again!

PW: Whatever happened to American pie ... Baseball ... Golf!!!!  Not
Chimichunga's ... Fiesta's ... and Mexican stand offs!

JB: I'm speachless let's go to the debut of El Hijo Del Sol and when
it's over hopefully we can move on as normal.


------------------------------------

Singles action,

El Hijo Del Sol

-VS-

Jason Dynamite

------------------------------------


[Cut from the studio and we are already into the match...  El Hijo Del
Sol and Jason Dynamite are locked in an elbow-colar tie up... The
veteran, Jason Dynamite with a quick side headlock....  Del Sol sends
him off and into the ropes.  Dynamite comes off and hits Del Sol with
a shoulder block.  He rushes off the ropes and leapfrogs Del Sol who
is down on his stomach.  Dynamite rebounds off the opposite end and
Del Sol catches him with a hiptoss take down.]

JB: Jason Dynamite has traveled and wrestled just about everywhere
internationally.  He has even spent some time in Mexico so El Hijo Del
Sol's wrestling style won't come as a suprise tonight.

PW: How do you even pronounce his name!?!  I think I'll just call him
E.

[Dynamite is now back to his feet looking across for Del Sol.  Del Sol
takes off and hits the ropes and ducks under a wild swing of
Dynamite...  On the rebound he leaps onto the ropes... Dynamite ducks
under a springboard big right.  And the two again stare across at one
another.]

JB: So far niether man has been able to score the upperhand.  The two
lock up once more and this time Del Sol quickly with an armbar.  The
native Mexican wrestler sends Dynamite across and ...


"___THUUUUUD___"


*POP!*


[... leaping enziguri!  Dynamite crumbles to the ground giving Del Sol
the upperhand.  He pulls Dynamite up and drops down with a jaw Breaker
and follows up with a running neck snap.]


ONE ...


TWO ...


JB: Dynamite with a kick out.  Del Sol pulls him back up and lifts him
up and takes him down with an old fashion body slam.....  FOLLOWS UP
WITH A KNEE DROP!

PW: So we came to the conclusion earlier that there is no golf in
Canada.  How about Mexico?

JB: Baseball and soccer.

PW: WHAT IS WRONG WITH THESE PEOPLE!

[Del Sol has Dynamite up one more time and sends him into the ropes...
Tilt-a-whirl .....]


"___CRAAACK___"


JB: Backbreaker!!!!  What force by El Hijo Del Sol!   Del Sol is now
playing Dynamite under he bottom ropes..

[Dyanmite is now placed under the bottom ropes with his torso and head
hanging over. El Hijo Del Sol climbs the top ropes and comes off the
top with a leg drop!]

JB: SUN BURN!!!

PW: Who?

JB: That move.

PW: Oh I am still getting over the fact that they don't play golf in
Mexico.

[Jason Dynamite is now in obvious trouble.  The Mexican sensation
sends Dynamite over the top ropes with a slingshot... El Hijo runs up
the ropes, onto the top turnbuckle and flies drilling Jason Dynamite!]


*HIGH SPOT POP!*


JB: AIR DEL SOL!!!!   He calls that Afuera Ahora'!

PW: A what A what?

JB: Del Sol not wasting much time at all rolls Dynamite into the ropes
and follows right after him. European Uppercut followed by a strong
kick to the mid-section... Dynamite is doubled over...

[... Slingshot suplex into the ropes, brought down to the mat with a
face buster...]


"___THUUUUUUUUD___"


JB: Vi El Mundo!

PW: Okay now my head hurts.


ONE ...


TWO ...


THREE!!!


JB: What an impressive debut by the Mexican star, El Hijo Del Sol.

PW: Very impressive debut by E.

[Fade back to the studio.]


------------------------------------


JB: Del Sol looks like he will make a solid addition to the roster.
Moving right a long we have footage lined up next with two men who
fell short at End Game, Made Men.

PW: Man you are full of all kinds of confidence today aren't you.

JB: What?

PW: Why don't you just call them losers!

JB: Let's just roll the footage while I find some Tylenol.


------------------------------------
Remote feed,

Made Men

------------------------------------


[The scene opens in an apartment, now furnished, belonging to
"Pokerface" Mark Masterson.  A camera focuses on a living room
endtable sitting in a corner.]

*SQUEAK*THUD*

...

*SQUEAK*THUD*

[The camera pans to the left and more of the living room is exposed.
"Pokerface" Mark Masterson is seated backwards in a dingin room
chair...]

*SQUEAK*THUD*

[...punching an inflatable clown...]

*SQUEAK*THUD*

[...that is wearing a bandana and a poncho.]

*SQUEAK*THUD*

MM: Just like the real thing.  No matter how much you hit it, keeps
getting right the hell back up.

*SQUEAK*THUD*
*SQUEAK*THUD*

MM: Some would like to think it's a fire inside.  Grit.
Determination.  Heart.  But we know ...

*SQUEAK*THUD*

MM: ... it's just hot air.

[Offscreen, the voice of Nick "Always" Wright is heard approaching.]

NW: No problems, Mark... we know how to deal with guys like these.
Same as all the rest.

*POP*SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSTTTTTTTTTSSS*

[The clown deflates.  Wright enters the scene, a smug smile on his
face.]

NW: They can't stand they guys with the bigger pricks.  Maybe that's
why the Kid had to tell his Walter Reed sob story and 'relate' to Bill
Craven.  Because he knew that if he somehow walked away from our match
once, there wouldn't be a second time unless he brought along a
sideshow.  And I was hoping he'd toss in some cotton candy at least,
but NOOOOOoooooooooooooooo, we get a sports entertainment titan like
Magnum instead.  Gotta hand it to them, though; turn on the lights and
they scurry back to the warren, don't they?

MM: That's hardly a fair comparison, Nick.

NW: You're right.  Rats of the world, I apologize for comparing you to
our opponents.  That wasn't cool, and I'm sorry.

MM: That's better.  I like legends myself; ten feet tall, purple,
whatever; we'll take all comers.  When you're paving your way to
greatness, it's always nice to lay down the finest stepping stones for
your path.  That's how life is when you're Made: only the best.

NW: Damn straight.  Now, Mark, gimme forty dollars.

MM: (Stunned) ... why?

NW: I need it.

MM: Like you 'needed' that baseball hat that claps when you pull the
strings?

NW: Mark, c'mon, you know me... I've GROWN since then.  This is just
so I can keep my bank account in the black; I overdrew a little.

MM: Doing what?

NW: ... courting.

[The scene fades as the camera pans away from the men and towards the
door.]


------------------------------------


PW: Nick Wright is such a ladies man.

JB: I guess that "courting" was what we saw earlier in the show.

PW: At least somebody is giving Laurel the attention she deserves!

JB: Let's hear from the Widowmaker Inc. enforcer, The Mercenary!


------------------------------------

Remote feed,

The Mercenary

------------------------------------


(Scene opens.  A huge, gas guzzling, camouflage Hummer is parked in
front of a fenced off apartment type complex. From out of the truck
steps the one and only Mercenary. He looks a little worse for wear
from his battle with William Craven, as evidenced from the couple of
band-aids on his forehead and cheek, and he's walking a little slow,
favoring his back a bit. But all-in-all, he seems to be recovering
just nicely, thank you. And surprise, surprise, he's dressed pretty
much the same way you've seen him since he came to PVW, except today
he is sporting a black t-shirt with a Craven the Frog (tm) face on it,
superimposed over a shooting target, with a bullet hole between the
eyes. [Get 'em now before they sell out]. As Merc makes his way
through the gate with a visiting hours schedule on it, we see that we
are at the Shady Cactus Retirement Village [deduced by reading the
sign next to the gate]. Merc continues his way up the walkway to the
entrance of the building, walking past a couple of old geezers in
wheelchairs, who looked like they were left out in the sun too long,
cuz they really, really look like 100 year old beef jerky. [But that's
what happens when you leave these codgers out in the sun all day...
after all, this is New Mexico, don't ya know]. Anyways, Merc is now
inside the building, so we should probably be there too.

Cut to inside, and we now see Merc at a reception desk, talking to the
receptionist)

Merc: Hi there. I'd like to talk to someone in charge of this fine
establishment.

Nurse: May I inquire as to what this pertains too? Our head of
admissions is away right now, but if you'd like to come back next
week...

Merc: That's ok, that's not who I want to see. I'd like to talk to
someone about one of your residents... Hey, wait a minute! Why would I
want to see the head of admissions? You don't think I'm looking to
move in here...

Nurse: Oh, I'm sorry. I just assumed that's why you were here, what
with how old looking you are...

Merc: G***** it... I am not that old!!! No matter what the internet
rumors say. No, like I was saying, I'm here to check on one of your
residents.

Nurse: Relative or friend?

Merc: No... not a relative, and definitely not a friend.

Nurse: Well, then I'm afraid I can't help you. Our policy is to not
release any information about our residents to non-relatives.

Merc: I'm not really looking for information. I just that you would
like to know that one of your patients..

Nurse:.. Residents... We prefer to call them residents.

Merc: Whatever. I just wanted to let you know that one of your more
elderly residents seems to have escaped from the facility.

Nurse: Oh, I doubt that. We keep our patients...er, residents quite
sedated. Makes our job that much easier.

Merc: Yeah, well, from what I saw outside, watching over these people
doesn't seem to be a high priority. Unless today's activity was wallet
making, and the people outside were the leather supply. So, if you
don't mind, could you check and see if one Robert Magnum is around
somewhere?

Nurse: Oh, now I hardly doubt that he's left the grounds. He spends
all of his mornings getting  liquored up on whiskey and then passing
out for the rest of his day in his room, with old wrestling Beta tapes
playing on the TV.

Merc: Yeah, well, be that as it may, he was just spotted in
California.

Nurse: Oh really? I hope you have a reliable source. We won't stand
for slander here. We've been in business for many years, and no one
has ever escaped.

Merc: That source would be me. He decided to stick his crotchety old
nose into my business once again.

Nurse: I'm sure you must have been mistaken..

Merc: Oh, believe me... it was him. There's not mistaking the stench
of puked up whiskey and cheezies. So, could you just please have
someone check his room or cell or whatever you call them.

Nurse: Fine. If that'll make you go away...(pressing a button on the
intercom phone). This is reception. Could I please get someone to
check on room 119, and see if Mr. Magnum is ok? Thank you.
Now, then this won't take long. Once security sees that Mr. Magnum is
nicely passed out, you can be on your way.

Merc:  I'll be on my way no matter what your security finds. I just
need to know for sure.

(And just as Merc finishes that sentence, an overweight man in
hospital whites comes running down the hall, carrying a cantaloupe
melon in one hand and a potato sack full of straw in the other).

Security: (huffing and puffing)..He's ... He's... (wheeze)... He's
gone. All that I found in his room were these (holds up the melon and
the sack).. and a note scribbled in crayon that he had to go pay some
old debts....

Nurse: Damnit... That would explain why I haven't heard any ranting
about mad foxes in the last couple of days. I'm sorry... We'll send
out a retrieval team as soon as we can...

Merc: That won't be necessary. If I have my way, we won't be coming
back here.

Nurse: That's awful nice of you, but we are responsible for bringing
our residents back home. We can't allow you to put him in another
home...

Merc: Oh no.. You misunderstand me... He won't be going to another
home either. He'll be going to his final resting place.

(And with that, Merc turns from the desk and makes his way back out
into the blistering New Mexico heat, shaking his head)

Merc: Damn.. So, I guess I wasn't hallucinating from the
concussion...It really was him...

(Fade to snow).


------------------------------------


JB: I thought I saw your room in there.

PW: Very funny Britian.  Don't make me smash you with my nine iron.

JB: Aren't you golfers suppose to be calm?

PW: Not when we are forced to endure hours of working with you.

JB: Touche.  Next we have another new addition to the PVW roster.
Let's hear from "No Nonsense" Jeremiah Page.

PW: Sounds like my type of guy.


------------------------------------

Backstage segment,

Jeremiah Page

------------------------------------


We arrive at a plain back drop, nothing really special about it.  Just
an ordinary room in an ordinary place with an ordinary man sitting in
an ordinary chair.  That ordinary man, Jeremiah Page, a younger
looking man with short brown hair wearing a plain white PVW tee shirt
and a pair of blue jeans.  He sits there staring at an object in his
hand; that object a glossy luchadore mask that is green, white, and
red.  Finally he looks up at looks up at the camera and speaks.


Page:  ...


(Well he tries to speak but all that comes from his mouth is a snort
of laughter.  Shaking his head he looks back down at the mask and then
up to the camera again.)


Page:  Well this is what it feels like to make it.


(Page shrugs.)


Page:  To be honest, I'm honored to get a chance in a promotion such
as this, but I feel no different.  I'm still me, you're still you,
everything kind of is the same.  More money in my pocket, if you care
to know, but really nothing's changed.


(Page looks back down at the mask.)


Page:  I've come a long way from this, in such a short amount of time.
A lot less time than I ever thought it would take...


(He holds the mask up.)


Page:  It's a real funny story.  And, well, since I really don't do
funny, I'm only going to tell it once.


Page:  You see, there was a time way back when, when I had just
finished my training that I was approached by this promotion that
shall remain nameless, and told how I could have fortune and fame and
all I had to do was everything they told me.  I didn't know what was
good for me if it hit me in the face, and at eighteen, nineteen years
old you sort of believe them.


Page:  Page, they said, you're main problem is you're boring.
Charismatically challenged, if they were being nice to me on any given
day.  So throw this mask on, pretend you're a Mexican wrestling idol
worshiper and dazzle the crowd with your talent; we'll transplant the
charisma.


(Again he looks down at the mask and then back up to the camera.)


Page:  And I bought it.  Bought it big time, hook, line and sinker.
So they threw their costume on me and stuck me with this big, grease
ball road agent, and right out of school I was trying to be the star
of the show.  The only problem with that was I wasn't me.  I was some
lousy creation some hack thought up in the back of their mind.  I was
some comedic act, and as I stated before I don't do funny too well.


(Page sighs.)


Page:  Well the promotion failed, as promotions tend to do from time
to time, and the mask came off.  I had to take a long hard look in the
mirror to truly find out what it is I was and what it was I was
suppose to be.  What I found staring back at me was Jeremiah Page, the
same person that sits here before you today.  No comedy, no advise, no
quick rise to fame and fortune, just Jeremiah Page.


Page:  So I went back to the indy scene.  Back to the high school gyms
and the crowd of twenty-five and I was Jeremiah Page.  And gradually
it went; crowds of twenty-five became fifty, fifty became one hundred,
I toured Japan, Mexico, Australia, Korea, Canada, and places too
obscure to reference.  Holding my own and away from the mask.


Page:  And the promoters came and went too.  Just put back on the
mask, they said.  You had a good thing going, and without it you're
just some boring innovator that might steal a show but will be
forgotten about in a week.


(Page shakes his head back and forth.)


Page:  But the mask stayed off, that part of my life was a mistake
that I made, but it was made nonetheless.  I don't need the quick and
easy to get me back to where I belong.


(Page shrugs.)


Page:  And maybe they're right.  Maybe the charismatically challenged
person that sits before you today can't make it in this business.  I'm
not one for talking, cracking jokes, or hyping myself up.  The only
thing that I have is what I do inside that ring.


(Page looks down at the mask again and then off to his left.  He
slowly starts to stand up leaving the mask behind him on the chair and
taking a step closer to the camera.)


Page:  That's what I do, I wrestle.  It's who I am and where I think I
belong.  Maybe I don't... *shrugs* ... but we'll see about that.  But
this is who I am, and this is all that I am.  If I don't make it...
then Jeremiah Page doesn't make it, no regrets, second guessing or
anything else.  I have my chance and that's all that I need.  Time
will tell, if I truly belong, and my intent is to show that I belong.


(Page looks behind him, back towards the mask and then back to the
camera.)


Page:  You know, now that I think about it, the story isn't all that
funny.


(Fade to black.)


------------------------------------


JB: Jeremiah Page is due to make his PVW debut.

PW: Let's see what this kid has.


------------------------------------

Singles action,

"No Nonsense" Jeremiah Page

-VS-

"Mean" Ed Green

------------------------------------


[Cut from the studio and we are already into the match... "Mean" Ed
Green has "No Nonsense" Jeremiah Page back up against the ropes after
working him over a bit.  He whips him acorss.  Jeremiah Page quick on
his feet ducks under a wild clothesline.  Page comes off and kicks Ed
Green in the stomach and springboards off the ropes .... TORNADO DDT!]

JB: What a move by Jeremiah Page!  This guy has came into the PVW with
a great deal of hype and hope.

PW: They usually do.

JB: Jeremiah Page wastes no time and pulls Ed Green up.

PW: He is No Nonsense!

[Jeremiah Page drills Ed Green in the midsection with high knees.  He
takes a few steps back and leaps into a standing dropkick that sends
Ed Green flying over the top ropes and to the outside.  Jeremiah Page
quickly climbs the top ropes and as Ed Green makes his way back to his
feet he leaps into a corkscrew plancha ...]


*HUGE HIGH SPOT POP!*


JB: _AMAZING_!

PW: Jesus how many times did he spin?

JB: Jeremiah Page with a tool chest fool of amazing moves.

PW: Maybe this guy can actually back up the hype he brings.

[Jeremiah Page rolls Ed Green under the ropes...  He climbs the
outside of ring apron and up the turnbuckles... As Ed Green gets up
and looks around he leaps off... HURRANCURANA!!!!!!!!]

JB: The fans are on their feet and cheering Jeremiah Page on!!! He
hits the ropes and as Ed Green stumbles up CROSS-BODY!!!!


ONE ...


TWO ...


THRE ---


PW: Ed Green some how kicks out.  I guess the moves are pretty, but do
little damage.

JB: I'm not so sure about that.

[Both men are up and Jeremiah Page leaps up with a head scissors, but
Ed Green catches him and SLAMS him down on the mat hard.  Ed Green
stumbles back up shaking off the cob webs... He turns and begins
putting a series of boots into the side of Jeremiah Page.  He pulls
Page up and sets him up for a suplex, but Page slips out behind
him...]


"___THWAAAP___"


"___THWAAAP___"


"___THWAAAP___"


JB: STIFF Knife Edge Chops!!!!  SPRINGBOARDS ... DDT!!!!!!


ONE ...


TWO ...


PW: Ed Green somehow kicks out again.

JB: Page is up and SPRINGBOARDS AGAIN ...


"___CRAAAAAACK___"


PW: SHINING WIZARD!!!


[Ed Green crumbles down to his stomach....  The fans are on their feet
for the youngster as Jeremiah Page Jumps on the top rope with a Split
leg approach, from there he springboard up to a standing position and
leaps off with an Asai Moonsault....]


*FINISHER POP!*


JB: The Last Move Moonsault!!!!  This one is over!


ONE ...


TWO ...


THREE !!!


JB: We have now seen three impressive debuts, but this one may be the
most impressive of them all!

PW: I can't disagree with that in the slightest!

[Fade back to the studio.]


------------------------------------


JB: Impressive debut indeed!  Jeremiah Page, El Hijo Del Sol, and Team
Canada are all amazing additions to an already stacked roster.

PW: I guess with PVW's expansion they will take just about anybody
these days.  The Royal Family leaves in a terrible loser leaves town
clause and we bring these goons in to replace them?

JB: I have strict orders not to discuss The Royal Family on this show.
So in the interest of keeping my job let's go to the winner of The
Called Shot, Rick Marley.

PW: Wuss.


------------------------------------

Production video,

Rick Marley

------------------------------------


The scene opens on "Showtime" Rick Marley sitting behind a large dark
wood desk in what appears to be an executive office.  A large
Widowmakers Inc. logo dominates the wall on the right side, while the
left has a floor to ceiling windows that offer a view of the cityscape
beyond.  The dark haired cruiserweight has a large leather bound
dictionary open next to his right hand, and an open manilla folder on
his left.  A quiet cough comes from off camera, drawing his eyes
towards the camera crew.]

"Oh...you're here.

Okay, let's get this over with.

According to the Oxford English Dictionary:

Dictionary.com Unabridged (v 1.1) - phe·nom   Pronunciation Key - Show
Spelled Pronunciation['fee-nom, fi-nom] Pronunciation Key - –noun
Slang. a phenomenon, esp. a young prodigy: a twelve-year-old tennis
phenom. "

[Marley closes the dictionary, shrugging.]

"Now, being the first kid in your school to...well...develop is
something to be proud of, right Tommy?  It must be golly gee neato to
be able to be able to show the other kiddies which teeth you're
missing.  Gosh, maybe you'll even be able to get your girlfriend to
hold your hand at the school dance...but I'm afraid that the Wrasslin'
Show MAY be on past your bed time...and your mommy and daddy might not
let you stay up to watch a show with that much violence.  You'll need
to resort to trying to steal the parental control password to bypass
that pesky V Chip...the bane of your existence.

Me?  I've been able to sit at the 'big kid' table for years now.  I've
held titles in some of the most competitive organizations on the face
of the earth...been in matches against guys that'll be in the Hall of
Fame when it's all said and done.  I won the Called Shot against nine
of the hungriest competitors in this company.  I've orchestrated
attacks that are the REASON for the V Chip.

You, Ryder?  Most of your wins have come against guys that should be
flipping burgers.

Me?  I'm the primary shareholder of Widowmakers Inc...a multi-billion
dollar company with holdings in fourteen countries, thirty nine states
and two territories.

You're part of the New Breed.

I'm the standard bearer for PVW.  The Uncrowned Champion.  The Human
Highlight Reel.  Mr. Saturday Night.

You stuck your nose in Widowmaker's Incorporated business.

Me?  Well...let's just remind you:  Widowmakers Incorporated pays our
debts.

And right now, you're on the books for a Grade A beat down...but
because my man Nick is sweet on your arm candy, I'll give you the
chance to lay down like a good little boy and admit that you have no
business in the ring with the grown-ups...hell, to help sooth your
ego, I'll even pay you for it.

And if that doesnt' work...well...word back stage is that your chicky-
boo is the one that wears the pants in that locker room anyway...

So you can either take the payoff and stare up at the lights, or you
can just get beaten down...and end up staring up at the lights.

You can take that to the bank."

[Fade Out.]


------------------------------------


JB: Rick Marley entered the PVW as one half of the Wild Cards, but
after clashing head on with William Craven and suffering a series of
injuries he returned at the helm of the legendary Widowmakers.  He has
stood at the helm and they are now the most feared stable inside
professional wrestling today.

PW: I always knew Rick Marley was going to be a force once he got rid
of that loose baggage Baldwin and no good brother of his.

JB: The Wild Cards are our new tag team champions Preston.

PW: Yeah let's not go there.

JB: Agreed.  Instead we have another Tommy Ryder video who will be
putting his undefeated streak on the line against Rick Marley.


------------------------------------

Production video,

Tommy Ryder

------------------------------------


[The lights fade in with "The Phenom" Tommy Ryder standing in the
center of a ring.]

TR: Rick Marley, you tried to interfere in my match with the Made Men.
No, you didn't try.  You did interfere!  I've been told over and over
that I shouldn't have stuck my nose in Widow Makers' business.  Well
let's make this clear right now.

[Tommy looks directly into the camera.]

TR: I wasn't going to sit back and let you jump the man I had just
beaten.  If I had just ignored it then I might as well have run down
there and helped you!  But I didn't.  I did what a Man would do. I
tried to stop you.

[Looking away from the camera and into the stands.]

TR: With the Tucson Kid's help I got a measure of revenge against the
Made Men.  And now we come to you Rick, the leader of the Widow
Makers.  "Showtime" versus "The Phenom".

[Tommy begins pacing the ring.]

TR: A battle of two undefeateds.  I'll give it to you.  You've got the
experience edge on me.  But in this ring, it ends there.  In this
ring, there is a world of difference between us and it doesn't favor
you.

I've seen the tapes.  In this ring, you are "Showtime" Rick Marley.
These fans are going to see a show when you step through these ropes.
Sometimes that show is about wrestling and they get to see what you
can do.  BUT, how often do the fans see the “Showtime” Rick Marley
that is taking a shortcut.  How often do they see the Rick Marley
where the show is a group of men doing what you couldn't do by
yourself?

What do you think the fans see when "The Phenom" steps in this ring?
They see a man that will do everything in his power to win that match
without taking shortcuts.  They see a man that will pull off moves
that they didn't think could be done.  They see a man that settles his
problems man to man.

On Heatwave, if you get then win, will the fans know the better man
won?  Will the wrestlers in the back know?  Will you know?  Because if
I win, no, when I win on Heatwave every fan in this building, every
fan watching at home, every wrestler on the roster will know that the
better man won!  And the sweetest part of that victory, the piece that
makes me excited just thinking about it is that you'll know that the
better man won.  At some point you'll come to the realization that all
of your tricks weren't enough to overcome "The Phenom".

[Scene fades.]


------------------------------------


PW: Note to Tommy Ryder...  The Widowmakers called and said you are a
dead man.

JB: They have been saying that for quite awhile and The Phenom keeps
getting up.

PW: That was before he stepped inside the ring with Rick Marley.

JB: I guess we will find out.  Next we have your two favorites
Preston.

PW: Chase Williams and OmniFly?

JB: No their opponents.

PW: Oh god.

JB: Caleb Foley and ...

PW: _THE_ Outlaw!

JB: Yes Outlaw.


------------------------------------

Remote feed,

Caleb Foley & Outlaw

------------------------------------


[The camera fades in and you see "The Fighting Irishman" Caleb Foley
just sitting inside of a gym and he is hitting a punching bag. As the
camera zooms in you can see the determination and hurt if the eys of
Caleb as he keeps hitting away at the bag...]

Caleb Foley: "THAT NO GOOD SON OF A BIT..."

[Foley stop his sentence as all of a sudden Outlaw walks in and looks
around...]

Outlaw: What the [bleep] is this place?

Caleb Foley: "It's called a gym. It is the same place where people
usually train for their upcoming matches..."

Outlaw: [bleep] this! Let's go back to [bleep] Burger King. That is
where us [bleep] LEGENDS train...

[Caleb just stares at Outlaw. As Outlaw looks around with a puzzled
look on his face..]

Caleb Foley: "We trained at Burger King last time and it got me
nothing but a massive headache. It also cost us the shot at walking
out of Phoenix with the World Tag Team straps."

[Outlaw continues to look around and it seems like he is mesmerized by
all the stuff in the gym.]

Caleb Foley: "GOD DAMNIT ... Are you paying attention to me?"

Outlaw: Yes I completely [bleep] agree. You cost us the [bleep] Tag
Straps.

Caleb Foley: "I cost us the tag straps..."

Outlaw: You were the one who [bleep] got pinned.

Caleb Foley: "I was hit in the head with the Heavyweight title belt
Chase Williams in case you forgot."

Outlaw: [bleep] Chase Williams.

Caleb Foley: "WHAT?!?"

Outaw: You need to quit [bleep] losing those [bleep] title matches.

Caleb Foley: "Maybe you haven't noticed but I have had a very hectic
last two weeks. I just recently lost my father to an illness and then
we have Brian Young ... Yes the same Brian Young who double crossed me
at End Games I found out he is nothing but a FRAUD ... A LIAR ... and
a CHEATER!!!"

Outlaw: I got [bleep] folded up in to a [bleep] ladder at [bleep] End
Games.  Okay so let's get the [bleep] out here and [bleep] train.

Caleb Foley: "Well this is how we are going to train today. Last time
we trained your way and we all know the outcome of that match. I am
sick and tired of being treated like I am a jobber here in Phoenix
Valley Wrestling."

Outlaw: You're no [bleep] JOBBER...

Caleb Foley: "Well thanks that means..."

[Before Caleb can finish his sentence Outlaw cuts him off...]

Outlaw: You're the [bleep] Head of the Enhancement Talent...

Caleb Foley: "Haha really funny. So let's get serious. We need to
start to train properly for this match against OmniFly and Chase
Williams."

[Outlaw thinks..]

Outlaw: Omnifly.. Omni.fly.  Fly.. Flying..

[Foley looks at him perlexed.]

Caled Foley: "Uh, you all right there?"

Outlaw: I've [bleep] got it.

Caleb Foley: "Got what?"

Outlaw: Lets go to the [bleep] airport.

[Caleb smacks his forehead in disbelief.]

Caleb Foley: "We're not going to go to the airport because Omnifly has
the word Fly in his name.  That's just ridiculous."

Outlaw: Omnifly isn't his real [bleep] name you know.  It's actually
Will [bleep] Geddings.  And he always uses [bleep] Fly in his [bleep]
names.  I figure it must be because he [bleep] hangs out in [bleep]
airports all the [bleep] time.

Caleb Foley: "Oh for Gods Sakes!  He doesn't hang out in airports.
It's just a NAME! It doesn't mean anything.  It's not because someone
uses the name Royal Family they hang out at Burger King.  It's not
because someone has RAGE in their names that they're angry.  It's not
because someone's name is Livestock he hangs out in a farm!"

Outlaw: Oooh.. Livestock hangs out in [bleep] farms.  I hadn't [bleep]
thought of that.  I should've [bleep] gone to a [bleep] farm before
the [bleep] called shot match.

Caleb Foley:  "ARGH!  Are you not hearing the words I'm saying?!?
IT'S A NAME! YOU CAN'T BASE EVERYTHING YOU DO OFF OF YOUR OPPONENTS
NAME!  THAT'S JUST INSANE!"

[Outlaw's jaw drops..]

Outlaw: I can't?

Caleb Foley: "NO, You delusional idiot!  You can't!  You need to take
this seriously."

[Outlaw just stares in disbelief.  His whole world coming down around
him.]

Outlaw: But..  I..  Uh..

[Suddenly the trademark smirk comes back.]

Outlaw: You're [bleep] with me.

[He burst out laughing.]

Outlaw: [bleep] for a [bleep] minute there you had me [bleep] going.
"It doesn't matter what their name is."  Haha.  For a [bleep] second
there I thought I was going to have to [bleep] change my [bleep] way
of doing things.

[Outlaw turns to head out the door.]

Outlaw: Where do you [bleep] suppose conceited people hang out?  I'll
[bleep] head over there after a [bleep] stop at the airport?

Caleb Foley: "YOU'RE JUST HOPELESS ..."

[Outlaw stares at Foley with a blank look on his face.]

Caleb Foley: "How do I know I can trust you? Heck you almost forgot to
come out to the ring for our first tag match and decided to show up
half way through it. You say your the best Phoenix Valley has to offer
but when people mention your name they think your nothing more than a
JOKE..."

Outlaw: How am I a [bleep] joke?

Caleb Foley: "Just look at you. Look who you align yourself with. How
is anyone ever going to take you serious if you don't take yourself
serious. You say I am the head of the enhancement talent here but in
my six months here I have wrestled in both Pay Per Views Main Events
and yes I may have lost both matches but I gave it my all and
that is all that matters. What exactly have you done?"

Outlaw: Uh well I uh I was the first Phoenix Valley Wrestling World
Heavyweight Champion...

Caleb Foley: No you weren't. You blatanly stole the title from the
case it was in. You switched the titles. Some people would say you are
no better than Brian Young. Outlaw you have all the talent in the
world and you are wasting it away. I can remember a time when people
would say the name Outlaw and he was a feared competitor. Now when
people say your name they either just laugh or say damn his
wife if so [bleep] hot..."

Outlaw: She's not my wife.  But yeah, she's [bleep] hot.

Caleb Foley: "This isn't gettin through to you is it?"

Outlaw: It's getting through like a [bleep] stick of butter.

[Foley stares dumbfounded]

Caleb Foley: "What the hell does that mean?"

Outlaw: It [bleep] means we should be [bleep] training.  I'm off to
the [bleep] airport.  Might stop by a [bleep] Chase bank on my way
back home.

[He looks around once more.]

Outlaw: Good luck [bleep] "training" in this [bleep] place.

[Outlaw walks out the door, leaving Foley alone.]

Foley: "Crap.."

[He turns back to the punching bag, and nails it with a big right
hand. The camera fades to black...]


------------------------------------


PW: ...

JB: Well that team is interesting.

PW: ...

JB: You want some Preston?

[Jack slides his bottle of Tylenol over and Preston feverishly opens
it.]

JB: Next we have footage from another man that was in the Called Shot
and in action here tonight.  Eric Williams!

PW: ...


------------------------------------

Remote feed,

Eric Williams

------------------------------------


[Pre-Fade in.]

Little Boy: Daddy won the World Title?!

[Fade in.]

(A Motel 6. The same one as last time. A little boy and a little girl
look up at their father – just walking in from the outside, still
wearing his ring clothes – from the bed nearest to the door, with big,
hopeful eyes. Eric Williams looks down at his two children, tired. He
flops into the nearby chair.)

Little Girl: Daddy, daddy, daddy! You won'd the World Title, right?!

(Eric gives a fake smile as he pulls an obviously fake World Title
belt – a plastic replica of PVW's – from under his shirt. His kids
give a loud squeal as they jump into his arms.)

Little Boy: How'd you do it, daddy?

(An audible sigh escapes his lungs.)

Williams: Well, remember daddy's "Called Shot Match?"

(Eager nods from his bobble-headed children.)

Williams: Well, daddy beat all nine men, bare handed. And they had
chairs, ladders – uh – bats, and –

Little Boy: And swords?!

(Eric pauses for a moment, then nods.)

Williams: And swords!

Children: Wow! Cool!!!

(The scene pauses. Eric Williams' is heard doing a quick voiceover.)

Williams (V/O): To any parents judging me for blatantly lying to my
kids, tell Santa and the Easter Bunny I said hi.

(The scene begins again. His children jump back to their spots on the
bed as Eric starts acting out his false-narration of how he won the
Called Shot match.)

Williams: Well, first, Gibson Hayes –

Little Boy: Daddy!

Williams: Oh, sorry. First, Gorilla Man comes at me with a big...a...A
HUGE chair. And he swings it like...

(Eric makes a loud gorilla noise as he wildly raises his imaginary
chair over his head, and slams it into the ground; following it up
with a loud crashing noise with his mouth. His kids give a loud gasp.)

Williams: But daddy ducked out of the way, and came up with a big kick
right to his big fat gut, and he went FLYING into the crowd!

And just after that, The Dragon Kid comes flying in with a…

Little Boy: A sword?!

Williams: Yeah! A big samurai sword! And he lets out this huge roar as
he comes crashing down!

(Eric roars like a lion and makes the overhead swinging motion, like
he was holding the sword. His little girl cringes, as his son leans
in, wide-eyed.)

Williams: And daddy kicked his sword out of the way, grabbed his arm,
and threw him into like 5 other guys, and they all fall down!

So, now, it's down to me and that big mean Larry Gionet. And he's got
a really big club!

Little Girl: How big?!

Williams: Like the size of a door! And it's got a huge nail in it! And
he has me backed into the corner. I've got nowhere to run! And here
comes this his club, right for daddy's head, and-

(Three loud pounds on the door interrupts his story. Eric gives a
nervous glance at the door.)

Williams: Um. Hang on, kids.

(He grabs his fake World Title belt, and walks to the front door. As
he opens it, you see a little blond-haired child crying, hugging his
mother's legs. The mother is noticeably upset. Very noticeably. If
this were anime, she'd have the big vein on her forehead.)

Mother: My son said that some brute stole his toy World Title.

Williams: Stole?! I was gonna pay him 20 dollars after I was done with
it! I mean, after I got the money to pay him-

(The mother lets her open palm flutter right into his face.)

Mother: You should be ashamed of yourself! You know that children look
up to you, right?

Williams: How'd you know it was me, anyway?!

Mother: Because my son said that the man who STOLE his toy was wearing
wrestling gear, and was bragging about philandering with some cheap
floozy about thirty minutes ago!

Williams: So? That could be anyone here!

Mother: You're absolutely right. Except _I_ was talking to _YOU_ about
thirty minutes ago! You called me a floozy to my own son!

Williams: Well, maybe you should stop dressing like a _WHORE_.

(One knee. Two balls. And one satisfied woman walking away from one
man who is groaning on the floor.)

Williams (wimpering): I... think I had that coming.

(His little son goes racing out of the hotel room after the lady,
followed shortly by his little girl.)

Little Boy: Come back here with daddy's World Title!

(Eric tries to grab his kids, as they hop over his limp, fetal-
positioned body, but they flutter just out of the reach of his hands.)

Williams (weakly): Kids...Kids! Aw f[bleep].

(Loud screams from a woman are heard outside, as the sound of war-
cries from two small children are heard.)

Williams: Just another tale in the story of the "great" Eric Williams.

[Fade To Black.]


------------------------------------


JB: Eric Williams a very talanted young prospect here inside the PVW.
Except he seems to have an interesting life.

PW: Interesting is an understatement.

JB: Tonight he is set to step inside against one of the best all
around wrestlers inside PVW, "The Natural" Mike Castillo.


------------------------------------

Production video,

Mike Castillo

------------------------------------


[...FADE UP - the shot opens outside of the Anaheim Convention Center.
End Game has just concluded and the arena is still abuzz as they file
out of the building like a pack of fat, greedy, satisfied cattle. CUT
TO INSIDE -- more specifically, the backstage area where PVW talent
strolls by chatting and bull-[bleep]ing to their hearts
delight...another great show under their belts. However, one man
remains unsatisfied...]


[...The frame switches to a feed from the mock PVW interview area. A
small room with a lighting rig, a camera and PVW banner hanging over a
chain-link background. Enter "The Natural" Mike Castillo, the man who
just systematically dismantled WWO icon and heavy favorite, Miguel
Quesada. Castillo is still garbed in his wrestling gear. Golden yellow
classic style wrestling trunks, black boots, kneepads and elbowpads
with bloody tape covering his fists he doesn't even sit on the
lonesome steel chair in the center of this set before he spews his
first words...]


MC - I'm better than you, Quesada -- and I proved it!


[...Castillo smirks as he takes a quick swig from his water bottle. He
wipes his brow with a white towel before slinging it back over his
shoulder and continuing...]


MC - What was it about that kid that got everyone's panties all moist?
I was the under-dog, the guy who was supposed to be CRUSHED by the
"Icon" they call Miguel Quesada. Well kids, let me re-iterate lesson
one --


NEVER COUNT OUT "THE NATURAL"!


I have defeated more than my share of "favorites" and ended more
"legacies" than you can count! Miguel Quesada might have come home to
a huge party, but now he'll stay here and enjoy his early retirement.
Just like I said he would.


[...Castillo's voice grows stern as he moves on...]


MC - Now, they pit me against some no-name, curtain-jerking, son of a
bitch named Eric Williams. Really? Is that all you bastards got?


[...A look of amusement comes across Castillo's face as he slowly
takes a seat and looks deep into the camera...]


MC - Let me tell you kids a story. Once upon a time, long ago in a
far, far away land; there lived a mighty knight. This knight was so
powerful and so great that he slayed every beast that ever set their
sights on him.


Every dragon and every monster who came before him was defeated. Every
single enemy, adversary and foe met the same fate -- destruction.
Until one day, this great knight fell asleep, and when he woke up --
he was in the real world. Do you know what happened to him then?


[...Castillo pauses as he leans into the camera for effect...]


MC - HE GOT HIS ASS KICKED!


[...His tone immediately switches to one of anger and frustration...]


MC - I DO NOT believe in fairy-tales, Williams! I don't believe that
your pathetic excuse for a career can stand up to the man, the myth --
"THE NATURAL"!


I believe in the most proven commodity in the business today --


ME!


I believe in the single greatest wrestler and performer alive today --


ME!


[...Castillo calms himself just enough to prevent himself from
attacking the camera folks. He rolls his neck and continues...]


MC - I am quite simply he VERY best performer lacing them up today, no
one -- and I mean NO ONE -- can take that away from me! I believe in
being the very best in everything I do. I am a proven a winner,
Williams, you are not. You are a sorry attempt by the booking
committee to slow my momentum. However, that won't work. Because, you
see, I am better than you in EVERY SINGLE measurable department!


Eric Williams, I am the hottest thing smoking in PVW and you are my
next science project. I hope you enjoy kissing the back of your knees,
because I plan on twisting, contorting and systematically dismantling
you from head to toe.


Believe the hype!


I'm BETTER THAN YOU! Trust me.


[...A sinister grin smears across the face of "The Natural". He pauses
for a moment then walks directly into the camera, engulfing it in
darkness -- fade to black...]






------------------------------------

Singles action,

"The Natural" Mike Castillo

-VS-

"Wherewithal" Eric Williams

------------------------------------


[The lights in the arena die. Silence fills the arena for just a
moment, as the big screen shows a figure standing far off; turned
away. The camera zooms in rapidly, and stops as the figure turns
around; Eric Williams' smiling face fills the screen as the chorus of
“Bullets” by Creed kicks in.]


##Look at me... look at me
##At least look at me when you shoot a bullet through my head
##Through my head
##Through my head
##Through my head


[A spotlight, that will follow Eric throughout his entire entrance,
shines on the entrance curtain as “Wherewithal” Eric Williams marches
through the ring, almost leaping into the fans; loving every bit of
admiration they give him.]


##Im my lifetime when I'm disgraced
##By jealousy and lies
##I laugh aloud 'cause my life
##Has gotten inside someone else's mind

[Eric makes his way down the entrance ramp, and leaps onto the ring
apron; grabbing the ropes as his feet plant on the apron. The music
dies down to the opening of the song.]


##Walking around I hear the sounds of the earth seeking relief
##I'm trying to find a reason to live
##But the mindless clutter my path
##Oh these thorns in my side,
##Oh these thorns in my side
##I know I have something free
##I have something so alive…


[Eric slips through the middle of the ropes, and runs to the far
turnbuckle; leaping on it to raise a fist to his fans – who raise
theirs back. As he jumps off of the turnbuckles and turns around, the
music dies, the spotlight fades, and the lights come back up.]

JB: Eric Williams have made his way down.  He will have his hands full
here tonight.

PW: So is it safe to call this guy a dead beat dad yet?

JB: Quite the opposite!

[ The lights in the arena begin to flicker, then they quickly go
black. The opening notes of "O Foruna" by Mozart begin to play. The
jumbro-tron slowly begins to come alive, golden dust appears on the
screen, blowing wildly across the length of the screen. The dust
begins to gather, then slowly form two ominous letters, and a phrase
commonly found on hate pages and hit lists...M C...]

[ The crowd begins to boo loudly as clips start to roll of Castillo
giving numerous wrestlers his patented "Red Carpet Moment" finisher.
Some are champions, some are heroes...all are victims. The clips
continue to roll as the first movement of Mozart's "O Fortuna" nears
its end. As the dramatic drums begin to pound, more shots roll in
synchronization with the bass. These clips are of Castillo stealing
match after match...then of Castillo raising title after title belt!
The opening music ends, on the last note, gold pyro explodes down from
the rafters. Then after a brief pause, the lights start to strobe
slowly, from blinding bright, to pitch black...and "Victory" by
Notorious BIG starts to blast through the speakers...]


Yo the sun don't shine forever,
But as long as its here we might as well shine together...

Better now than never, Business before pleasure,
P Diddy and the Fam who you know do it better?...

Yea right, no matter what we air tight,
So when you hear somethin, make sure you hear it right...

Don't make an [bleep] outta yourself by assumin,
My music keeps you movin, what are you provin?...


[ Castillo slowly steps through the curtains to a chorus of jeers and
boos. He smirks, adjusts his mirror-tint shades and poses, head
proudly high and his arms out-stretched as gold pyro shoots up all
around him. He enjoys the boos, as he struts confidently down the
ramp...]


You know that I'm two levels above you baby,
Hug me baby, I'ma make you love me baby...

Talkin crazy aint gonna get you nothin but choked,
And that jealousy is only gonna leave you broke...

So the only thing left now is God for these cats,
And BIG you know you too hard for these cats...

I'ma win cause I'm too smart for these cats,
While they makin up facts, you rakin up plats...


[ Castillo walks down the ramp, completely ignoring the fans heckling
and booing him. Being the showman he is, he occasionally smirks and
taunts the fans, enticing more boos. He steps through the ropes and
approaches the nearest turnbuckle, where he again poses as he did on
the stage area. Castillo slowly removes his shades and cautiously
hands them to the official as the song plays on...]

JB: And here is The Natural.  He picked up a big win on End Game when
he pinned the stand out veteran, Miguel Quesada.

PW: It was a red carpet moment.



<< DING  DING >>>



JB: The bell is sounded and the two New Breed superstars are circling
the ring.

PW: This whole "New Breed" hasn't died yet?

JB: It's just a symbol for the future of this industry and PVW.

PW: Eric Williams is the future?  We are doomed.

[The two men lock up, but before anything gets started Castillo jabs a
thumb into Williams eye...  Ignoring the referee The Natural begins to
capitolize on the underhanded tactic.  He gives a chop to the throat
area and Williams stumbles back gasping for air.  Castillo grabs the
back of Williams head and charges driving it into the hard
turnbuckle...  Williams stumbles backwards now dazed and half blinded
and Castillo climbs to the second turnbuckle and leaps off with a big
clothesline!]

JB: Underhanded tactics have scored the upperhand for The Natural.
You'd think with a nickname you wouldn't have to resort to those type
of tactics.

PW: Didn't you get the memo?  Dead beat fathers aren't welcomed inside
the PVW.  Make them pay at all costs!

JB: First off Eric Williams appears to be a more than capable father.
Second off do you want us to start digging into every skeleton in our
superstars closet?

PW: Could you imagine what Spectre's would look like?  What about
Brian Young you have heard horror stories about the Young family
right?

[Castillo pulls Eric Williams up and begins a series of rhythmic snap
jabs...  Castillo even adds in some boxing bobs and weaves and then
steps back with a big right hand sending Williams quickly back down to
the mat.]

JB: Castillo is now just toying with him now.

PW: Castillo is a showman through and through.  He is here to
entertain.

[Castillo now pulls Eric Williams up and drops him down with a snap
suplex... He moves over and half heartily hooks his leg.]


ONE ...


TWO ...


JB: Williams with a kick out.   Castillo grabs the right leg and
twists it over.. And drops his weight down.

PW: Do it again!

[... and The Natural obligues as he grabs the leg ... Williams kicks
him out and Castillo bounces off the ropes and Williams dives up with
a clothesline!]

JB: WILLIAMS COUNTERS!

PW: So he isn't 100% worthless.

[Eric Williams quick on his feet ducks under a big right hand and
double-arm DDT....  He drops down and locks on a STF on Mike Castillo
as the fans begin to cheer.]

JB: STF by Eric Williams.  He is just grinding Castillo's face.

PW: You can't do that to the Natural!

JB: Watch as he does it Putter.

[Finally The Natural makes his way to the ropes and Eric Williams is
forced to break the hold and back off... Mike Castillo rolls to the
outside and waves off Eric Williams.  This doesn't stop Williams he
takes off and SUICIDE DIVE THROUGH THE ROPES!!!!!]


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 ! ! !


JB: ERIC WILLIAMS PUT HIS BODY ON THE LINE AND JUST TOOK OUT A
RETREATING MIKE CASTILLO!!!!

PW: That guy is nuts!

[Williams limps up as he used his body as a weapon and is feeling the
after effects.  The fans pat his back as he pulls Castillo up... He
goes to send him into the ring apron, but it's reversed --- ]


"___THUUUUUUUUD___"


JB: Castillo counters and sends Williams back first into the ring
apron.  Castillo charges ....


*HUGE POP!*


[... Back body drop by Eric Williams!!!  Williams grabs Castillo and
rolls him inside the ring and climbs the outside on the top ropes.
Jumping clothesline into reverse bulldog!!!! The Cover!]


ONE ...


TWO ...


THR ---


*DISSAPOINTING KICKOUT POP!*


JB: SO CLOSE!  Williams almost had The Natural right there.

PW: It's going to take more then that to put Castillo away.

[Eric Williams goes for a spinning leg lock, but recieves an elbow in
the chops to break it...  Both men slowly raise to their feet and hard
right by Castillo... Williams fires back!  Both men barely standing
and Castillo grabs the face of Williams and rakes it down.]


*BOOO!*


JB: Castillo back to underhanded tactics.

PW: It's what he does best.


"___THUUUUUD___"


JB: Sit-out facebuster.


ONE ...


TWO ...


*POP!*


PW: Doesn't Williams ever quit?

JB: He has a heart of a lion!  Castillo rebounds off the ropes as
Williams gets up ...


"___THWAAAP___"


PW: STAR-GAZER!!!

[Castillo leaped into a flying fist and drilled Eric Williams right
between his eyes...  Castillo drops down and hooks the leg.]


ONE ...


TWO ...


THR ---


*KICK OUT POP!*


JB: Williams tosses a shoulder up!  Castillo pulls Williams back up
and inverted atomic drop has Eric Williams hobbling...  He grabs him
--


"___THUUUUUUUD___"


PW: Swinging neckbreaker.  This baby is over!


ONE ...


TWO ...


*ANOTHER KICK OUT POP!*


JB: Williams shoots _another_ shoulder up!

PW: Jesus shoot the dog already.  Put him out of his misery!

[Castillo pulls Williams to his feet.  He locks on the full nelson and
looks to call for the Red Carpet Moment, an unexpecting Williams drops
down and rolls Castollo up in an inside cradle!]


ONE ...


TWO ...


THREE !!!


Kick out ???


*HUGE POP!*


JB: WILLIAMS DID IT!!! OUT OF NOWHERE HE ROLLED AN UNEXPECTING
CASTILLO UP!!!!

PW: That little snake.

[Williams has his hand raised...  Castillo can't believe it.  He
charges and --- ]


*BOOOOOO!*


JB: JUST KICKED WILLIAMS IN THE GROIN!!!!  Williams is dubbled over in
massive pain now.

[Castillo executes a 3/4facelock bulldog and drops Williams on the
mat...]

PW: Franchise Tag!

JB: What a poor sport.  Eric Williams fought tooth and nail through
this match and pulled out a hard fought victory on Castillo.  Now
after the bell The Natural has began assaulting him.

PW: Pay back's a ....

[Fade back to the studio.]


------------------------------------


JB: What a match!

PW: I quite enjoyed it until the end.

JB: Eric Williams picked up a hard fought victory.  Mike Castillo
appeared to get a little over confident and he paid as Williams rolled
him up.

PW: Cheap way to win.

JB: Time is flying by and we still have a series of footage to air so
let's get right into it.


------------------------------------

Backstage Segment,

Prophets of Rage

------------------------------------


[Fade in:

Backstage at the PVW studios, Swinging Dean Hayes stands before the
PVW logo.  The radio host presents as the consummate professional even
though he knows what is coming.]

SDH: Ladies and gentlemen, my guests at this time really don't need an
introduction.  They've made their mark on the PVW in perhaps the
biggest fashion possible.  At End Game they staked their claim as the
number one contenders to the World Tag Team championships.  They are
Shadoe and Derek Rage … the Prophets of Rage!

[As the last syllables spill from Dean's mouth, Shadoe Rage upstages
him.  He slides in stage right, both arms thrown out and his back to
the camera so everybody can read the lavender custom T-shirt: "ANTI-
CITIZEN WON!"  His hair is blown out and straight now, wrapped in a
twisted blue bandana.  He pauses for a moment, completely obscuring
Hayes before he spins towards the camera.  As usual his eyes are
poorly masked by honey-coloured aviator sunglasses.  He flicks his
tongue at the camera, grimacing and posturing like a peacock.  Derek
Rage comes in from downstage right, settling in behind Hayes' back.
The announcer cringes at the big man's quiet and implacable presence.
Derek simply stares down at Hayes, waiting.  As Hayes is distracted,
Shadoe taps him on the shoulder and, when he gets his attention,
points left into the distance.]

SR: Look at this end of the building.

[Hayes takes a long look.]

SR: (suddenly pointing right)  Now look at the other end of the
building.

[Again Hayes takes a long look, shielding his eyes and squinting.]

SR: (finger moving from right to left) Now take a look everywhere in
between.  Tell me what you see, Swinging Dean Hayes.

SDH: The PVW studios.

[Shadoe Rage looks crestfallen.  He stares at his brother for help.
The big man willingly obliges.  He clamps a big hand down on Dean's
shoulder blade, the fingers digging into the muscle.  Hayes squirms.]

DR: Take a closer look.  Don't be so literal.  Look beyond the walls.
What do you see?

[Hayes is completely perplexed.  Shadoe Rage has finally had enough.]

SR: You are looking at Rage Country!  Population everybody but you!
Even the Pedros are applying for citizenship right now.  Everybody has
become a Rageoholic.  And all the Rageoholics are clamoring for one
thing.

SDH: What's that?

DR: They are demanding that the World Tag Team Titles must fall.

[Shadoe Rage becomes very animated, stabbing his finger into the palm
of his opposite hand.]

SR: The World Tag Team titles must fall!  They must fall!  The
Wildcards are nothing but the beneficiaries of luck!  They are false
kings.  They are merely stewards keeping the belts for the return of
the true kings, the Prophets of Rage!

DR: The Wildcards managed to get a good draw in the tag-team gauntlet
and beat us because we were tired.  Then they got the shot at the lame
duck champions before we did because we were disposing of the Urban
Legend.  So they got the belts first.  Everybody knew that whomever
fought the Royal Family would win the belts.  Well, they were lucky to
get there first.  But we are serving warning that they will not be
there long.  Now the Prophets are fully focused on the tag titles.  We
earned our shot and you better believe, Hayes, that we will make sure
that we are victorious when we exercise that shot.

SR: The Wildcards are about to be annexed in a hostile takeover.  The
Prophets of Rage have not been in the throne for too long.  For far
too long.  That changes now.

SDH: You certainly sound confident.  I think the Wildcards have proven
themselves to be wily challengers.  It might be even harder to unseat
them for the titles.

[Derek Rage purses his lips.]

DR: Did you just get this job, Hayes?

SDH: Huh?

DR: (shrugging and waving his free hand) It's like you've never seen
the Prophets of Rage in action.

SR: We've put to rest the myth of Urban Legend.

DR: Closed down Highway 44.

SR: Tossed off Sexual Energy!

DR: And identified the UFOs as the ultimate fake outs.

SR: Now it is time to tame the Wildcards for all the Rageoholics.
Yeah, we'll expose them as jokers, but they won't be wild when we're
through with them.  All they will be is … BANKRUPT!

DR: (squeezind Dean's shoulder until he's down on his knees) You're
all on notice.

SDH: Ahhhh!!!!!!

SR: I think we're done here.

[Derek Rage simply nods.  Shadoe pirouettes into an exit stage left.
Derek simply walks off.  Swinging Dean Hayes struggles to his feet.
He rolls his shoulders trying to soothe the pain as he regains his
composure.]

SDH: There you have it!  This looks to be an epic confrontation
between two of the best tag-teams in the world today.  Don't you dare
miss it.  (muttering) I hope the Wildcards kick their (beep)s.

[Fade out]


------------------------------------


PW: I am a proud citizen of Rage country how about you Jack?

JB: Ummm...

PW: You have already made Chase Williams and Made Men pissed off today
I would think long and hard before you answer that.

JB: Prophets of Rage are now the number one contender for the PVW Tag
Team Titles and they are set to wage war with The Wild Cards.

PW: It's going to be a short reign as champions for The Wild Cards.
Thankfully for mama Marley she has another son she will soon be proud
of.

JB:  Not only are The Prophets tearing up the tag team ranks it's my
understanding Shadoe Rage has requested some singles matches when they
aren't wrestling as a tag team.

PW: Does that actually shock you?  The guy is a warrior!  All mothers
should point to this man and tell their children to watch him closely.

JB: Okay that is a little too much.  Our next piece of footage is from
somebody we aren't clear as of "who" it's from.

PW: The Masked Outlaw?

JB: I'm not going there.


------------------------------------

Production video,

???

------------------------------------


[Black.]





V/O: Are you sure it is time?





[A second, female voice responds.]



WOMAN: Yes.



V/O: Are you aware of what could happen?



WOMAN: Yes.



V/O: No limits, no rules... no remorse.  Again, are you sure it is
time?



WOMAN: Yes.





[There is a pause for a moment.]





V/O: Does that excite you, my dear?



WOMAN: Yes.





[Again another pause.]





V/O: Then tell me, what is it that you want me to do?



WOMAN: To make the world... bleed.





[End.]


------------------------------------


JB: Chilling words from who appears to be another addition to the PVW
roster.

PW: Or it could be somebody already on the roster.

JB: That is also true.

PW: It is probably The Outlaw with another one of his 5,000
personalities.

JB: You know he hates being called _The_ Outlaw right?

PW: So?

JB: Okay just making sure.  Our next peice of footage is from our PVW
Rising Phoenix Heritage Champion.  He is set to defend his title on
Heatwave against the up and coming Shayne Grissom.

PW: Souza was robbed.

JB: We will get to Souza, but first let's hear from our PVW Rising
Phoenix Heritage Champion!


------------------------------------

Remote feed,

Chris Hartt

------------------------------------


[At the Grand Canyon, people stand atop the skywalk. The long, clear
platform extends far over the edge of the gorge and lets people look
down into the impressive site.  At the end of the walkway is the
Rising Phoenix Heritage Champion, Chris Hartt. Dressed in jeans, PVW
t-shirt and sunglasses, he looks out over the railing, lost in
thought.]

Hartt: I've come so far in PVW.  I've made myself a lot of fans and
done the best I could to be the ones fans cheer for, look up to, and
pay money to come and see win. I've been rewarded by the cheers of the
fans and the respect of my colleagues, as well as my greatest
achievement, winning the RPH title.

It's been a rough ride since then, having to face down a former
friend.  I've been driven so far and fought so hard against someone I
loved and respected.  My feelings, my trust and my loyalty have all
been demolished by the man I once called a brother.

EndGame is done.  I've managed to survive facing down RJ. I faced him
again and again.  Most of the time he got the upper hand through
devious actions, but I emerged victorious.  At the end, I faced him to
see who was dominant and could force the other to quit.  And how does
he get the advantage?  By holding his ex-wife's well-being in jeopardy
simply to get me to give up. You may wonder if I felt bad about having
to give up my chance simply to save Destiny Souza.

I don't.

If it were to happen again and again, I'd still hand over victory to
protect those who aren't supposed to be involved in my fights. I'm
willing to fight to the end of my own life to protect what I believe
and those who care and respect me, but if someone innocent gets
involved, it's my duty to make sure they get out of harms' way
immediately.

And sadly, I feel bad for RJ, as well.  He may have been deluded in
his beliefs and blinded by lies and pain, but his misery cost him
everything and he got nothing for it.  Nothing.

We may not be friends anymore, but my heart does go out to him, just a
little.

I retained my title and now I go on to face 'Sugar' Shayne Grissom.
Shayne, you're a big man and we have a lot in common, as far as styles
go, but the real question is do you have what it takes to win this
title from me?

I've seen your history.  You're good.  But are you good enough?  I
think we're sure to find out on Heatwave.  Maybe this fight goes one
night, maybe we go on for the next 2 months. But the fight I bring to
you will be the same.  Hard, intense, full of the best technical
precision in PVW.  You'll find out why I truly do hold this title
rightfully. I hold it with pride, honor and respect.  I bring to it
the best execution of technical ability possible.  But above all that,
I bring the deepest passion to this title and to PVW.  I have great
passion for the sport.  Passion for the fans and passion for being the
best I possibly can be.

I expect a strong, solid fight out of you, Grissom. I expect nothing
less.  But, I'm gonna be ready for you and will bring the best I have
to offer into this match.  Prepare yourself for a fight you won't
forget!  I'm gonna prove one more time why I hold this belt proudly,
honorably and respectfully!

May God have mercy on your soul, because I won't!


------------------------------------


JB: Strong words from our champion.  You can expect he will be ready
to defend his title with honor and integrity.

PW: Also against a guy who has near broken ribs.

JB: Let's go to the challenger and find out what kind of condition he
will be in for the main event on Heatwave.


------------------------------------

Remote feed,

Shayne Grissom

------------------------------------


[The scene fades up to show the outside of a building. The side that
we are on is dark and cold. The breeze has picked up slightly and is
tossing small pieces of paper to and fro. There is a large, green door
on his side of the brick edifice. The door opens and someone begins to
step out into the side alley where the camera is. We see "Sugar"
Shayne Grissom step out wearing a black leather jacket and blue jeans.
He steps out and looks to the side where the camera crew is. His face
takes a somber tone and then he grimaces in pain as he walks. He moves
towards them with a duffel bag in his left hand.]

Grissom:  Yeah, I know. I've seen those faces already today.

[Shayne tosses the duffel bag into the back seat of his black 1964
Ford Thunderbird convertible. He winces as he throws the bag, but
tries to move past it as to go unnoticed.]

Grissom:  I'm not sure who to explain it, but I *AM* still wrestling
at Heatwave. No, I don't care about the ribs and problems that may
occur from them. To me, it is worth it to get a shot at the Rising
Phoenix Heritage belt. Does that cover it all?

[The camera stays still and Grissom's face contorts in an almost
crumbling way, giving in to the crew to chat a little.]

Grissom:  I'll say a few things for you, but I need to get back home
for some rest before my flight. OK?

[Grissom waits and nods with a smile.]

Grissom:  The called Shot was amazing, even while being in the middle
of it. A couple of time I thought I had a real chance to walk out, but
I guess I always knew that little guy would eventually walk out with
it.

[Grissom smiles.]

Grissom:  You know, I've been watching that guy since I was in
elementary school back when UEW was on TV. He still flies around like
nobody I know....eh....anyway...

[Grissom's moment of memory ends and he continues.]

Grissom:  I lost in the Called Shot, but I really got screwed in the
Network Title battle royal. There really isn't another way to describe
what happened. That ancient piece of crap literally reached up and
stole a title out of my hands.

[Grissom thrusts his finger toward the camera.]

Grissom:  And if you think I won't pay that back Gionet, you're
kidding yourself. You have messed with me in three different title
matches in my short career already, and to be honest, this is getting
pretty damn old already.

[Shayne leans back on the door of his convertible.]

Grissom:  Why do you want to mess with me so bad Larry? What is it
about "Sugar" that pisses you off so much?

[Grissom smiles.]

Grissom:  is it because women just seem to flock to me everywhere I
go? I mean I realize if you had my charisma, Viagra sales might triple
with your age and all....but is that what makes you so angry?

[Shayne raises his finger as if he thought of another idea.]

Grissom:  Perhaps it is the skill I have in the ring. Maybe it upsets
you that at 20 years old, I already have a greater set of skills than
you have ever dreamed of possessing in your decade-long career. Does
it piss you off to know that there is already someone ready to take
the spotlight from you? Are you that fearful of a true youth movement
in wrestling?

[Grissom stands up from the car and gets a cold star.]

Grissom:  But that isn't the true crux of it, is it Larry?

[Shayne's face is blank, almost like a killer ready to stab and twist
the knife.]

Grissom:  The real reason that you hate me so much is that I embody
everything you are not. You once called yourself my other half, as if
you had a kinship with me or something. In reality it was a last-ditch
effort by a struggling "star" to claim what he truly wasn't. Admit it
Larry, the only thing you have to cling to is the fact that I have
already surpassed you in skills and stature in only a few weeks in
PVW. I did it in ACW as well and you cost me two different matches
that involved chances at championship belts. You feel you are in your
prime and shouldn't be held back by younger guys with more time to
wait in line. Only one problem with that line of thinking Larry....

[Shayne winks.]

Grissom: You never had a prime.

[Shayne chuckles a bit, obviously reacting to the open mouths of the
crew who can't believe he said such a thing.]

Grissom:  Think about it. You have been nothing more than a
transitional champion in your career. You were manufactured in SPW to
be the perfect guy to get the belt from Greedy to Pietka....oh yeah, I
saw those tapes back when I was in ACW. I watched them preparing for a
time when we'd meet in the ring, until you got punked by another
rookie and exposed as "Jackie Paper". That is what ticks you off more
than anything, isn't it?

[Shayne smiles again.]

Grissom:  I guess there isn't much I could say to argue why you are
upset, except to caution you. You saw me ready to ascend again at End
Game and you just had to keep it from happening. The next time you
stand between me and a title, I will personally make sure it isn't
just the ribs that are hurting days later. So stay the hell away from
my match on Heatwave, or I'll light you up with a taste of Sugar!

[Shayne starts to walk back to his car, but he stops and turns around
slowly with a grimace on his face.]

Grissom:  Hartt....don't take the wincing as a sign of weakness. I
watched you and Souza do battle and I know your weak points as well. I
will fight you like a man and do battle the right way. The best man
between us will walk out with the Rising Phoenix Heritage belt around
their waist.

[Grissom smiles.]

Grissom When I face a man of honor and of whom I respect, it is much
easier to say that the match will please the fans and honor our sport.
I look forward to being in the squared circle with you and giving the
PVW a grand show to headline the first show after End Game. I'm
beaten, bruised and worn down.....

[Shayne winks again.]

Grissom:  ....but I'm ready. I look forward to it. See you then Hartt
and shine my belt up before you bring it to the ring.

[Shayne steps into the car and starts the engine as the scene fades to
black.]


------------------------------------


JB: It looks like those ribs may be a factor, but Shayne Grissom isn't
going to use them as an excuse.

PW: Larry Gionet should have snapped them like a twig.  I bet Fred
Hoyle would have been happy.

JB: There is no doubt about that.  Fred Hoyle hates Grissom's mentor,
Chris Hopper and he makes no attempts in hiding it.

PW: Sort of like The Outlaw and myself.

JB: Pretty much.  We have heard from Shayne Grissom let's hear from
the man who is responsible for those injured ribs and is sporting a
set of injured ribs of his own.

PW: A true warrior!


------------------------------------

Remote feed,

Larry Gionet

------------------------------------


[The camera fades into beautiful Reseda Park in Reseda California juts
a few short minutes from the sight of next weeks heatwave the American
Legion.  Trees surround its area as a beautiful sunset overlooks the
clear crystal lake.  In the midst of its majesty stands one Larry
Gionet.  He stands tall despite still nursing his wounds from the heat
of battle wrestling two matches at End Game. He stands in the middle
of it all finding his own peace in nature.]

End Game was supposed to be my springboard to the upper echelon of
PVW.  It was to be a night where it was the end of mediocrity and the
beginning of greatness. I was a mere INCH from having my opportunity
in my grasp but you had to stop it DIDN'T you Shayne?!  What a world
of good you did yourself huh Grissom?  Not only did you cost me my
chance but you screwed yourself in the process.  You think these
busted ribs from our aftermath phases me Shayne?  You think I'm
crying foul because I got cheated out of my title shot?  NOTHING could
be further from the truth!

[Gionet grits his teeth holding back the pain as he holds his
recovering cracked ribs.  He stares off into the sunset that has
blanked the sky with red, orange yellow and blue.  Larry then looks
down intensely into the water.  His cold blue eyes swirl in the water
seeing his reflection.  The water stands still as if somehow frozen in
time for a simple moment in time while a warm summer breeze blows
through his hair.]

Shayne you have NO clue what I've risked in my career to wnat that
title shot. I had someone shoot a fireball in my face at Koshien
stadium in Nishinomiya, Hygo Prefecture, Japan and came back nastier
than ever to claim championship gold.  I nearly was broken in two at
wembley stadium in london england severing my spine only to com eback
stronger as nothing was stopping me from ascending to the top of that
ladder.  I ascended into the heavens 30 feet on top of a steel cage in
my home town boston massachusetts flying off the top with a shooting
star headbutt risking my LIFE to become heavyweight champion of the
world SUCCESSFULLY!

[The camerea brings itself back to position where Gionet stands.  He
leans against an old oak tree whose leaves stand firm on its branches.
He holds the bark with his right hand nearly pounding it out of
aggravation and frustration. He looks down at the dirt as his dirty
blonde hair drops down to his nose covering his face away from the
viewing audience.  He collects himself trying to control his anger.]

Then in the Network Title battle royal there was a chance of
redemption to right the wrongs done to me.  I threw men out left and
right one by one.  I was in the final 4 and victory was so close I
tasted it.  But you needed someone else's help to get rid of me.
That's fine Grissom you screw me I screw you right back! Tearing you
bone from flesh watching you topple over the top rope to the
outside.  Security tried their damnest to stop me but I unleashed more
brutality to you.  I vowed at End Game that this was far from over and
I promise you that is the TRUTH!

[Larry Gionet kneels down to one knee as he picks up a fist ful of
dirt in his strong hands.  He squeezes so tightly that the soil breaks
apart falling through the cracks of his fingers.  He pounds his fists
together as they make the sound of a crack of thunder off into the
distance.  He throws a pebble across the lake as it creates a ripple
effect in everything it touches just as Gionet plans to ripple through
every adversary from here on out.]

I can give just as much as I can take away Grissom.  I gave you an
opportunity to walk away from the battle royal with some dignity left.
All you had to do was stay out of my business.  Your selfish pride got
in the way of better judgment and look what happened to you Shayne.
You should know better than most around Phoenix Valley Wrestling what
happens to people who get in my business.

I will be watching your match VERY closely at Heatwave.  Don't say I
didn't warn you Grissom!

[Gionet looks up as his piercing cold blue eyes can now be seen once
more.  He veers off into the distance watching the sun part between
the heavens and the horizon.  By the look in Larry's eyes one can
clearly see he plans to make Shayne Grissom's  final sundown in PVW
happen much sooner than later. A new dawn awaits PVW and for one
Shayne Grissom, is a dawn he may not want to wake up for.]


------------------------------------


JB: Gionet and Grissom are eventually going to have their day inside
that ring.  I'm not sure the PVW ring can handle these two when it
happens.

PW: Gionet is going to send that mama's boy back to Chris Hopper in a
coffin.

JB: We have heard from almost every superstar on the roster.  RJ Souza
came so close to winning the PVW Rising Phoenix Heritage Championship
he is set to compete in the main event here tonight with Jaiden
Andrews.

PW: Jaiden Andrews.... Here is a story of how the mighty have fallen.


------------------------------------

Production video,

RJ Souza

------------------------------------


RJ Souza: What tha HELL!!

[RJ has read over the cards for this weeks matches. The Man in Black
has noticed he has a match against Jaiden Andrews  on Burning Effect.]

RJ Souza: I don't bring home the title and this is how I am treated? I
get put on the "Jobber" show??

There are so many diffrent people who are NOT going to be very happy.

[RJ whips out his cell-phone]

RJ Souza:  Paul? It's RJ. Seems like I help put PVW on the map with my
feud with Chrissy Hartt, I can't get back on the big show.

[Pause]

RJ Souza: That's what I pay your sorry ass for. You make sure next
week, I am on that main card.....or I am going to have you fired the
HARD WAY!!

[RJ hangs up the phone]

RJ Souza:  Don't think I have  let you slip Mr Andrews. Leader of the
New Breed. How's that working for you. I am your biggest test to date.
I will cripple my own wife to win a damn match. You saw that, right? I
had her tied up in the most painful move I have in my arrsonal. What
makes you think that I am going to go any easier on you?

RJ Souza:  Wait until you get a load of Karma, kid. It's not what you
will be expecting.

[With that, RJ walks away.]


------------------------------------


JB: Souza seems set and ready!

PW: I wouldn't want to be Jaiden Andrews.  Who does he think he is
called this show a "Jobber Show" though!

JB: There is a false rumor going around that this is some sort of a
"B" show.

PW: Hog wash The Putter is here!

JB: Before we get to our main event we have two more peices to run
through.  Let's listen to the man who has joined forces with Craven
in standing tall against the Widowmakers.

PW: He isn't the brightest bulb in the box that's for sure.


------------------------------------

Remote feed,

Rob Magnum

------------------------------------


[The camera opens on a pair of black boots. They lay one atop the
other. The boot on top tapping slightly, casually. The boots are in
neat order, shining underneath the desk light that radiates off their
smooth surface. The camera pans back slowly, revealing an attached
pair of legs. Long legs at that. The legs of a giant that are clad in
a pair of blue jeans.

It pans back further...

... and reveals the torso, clad in a sleeveless white t-shirt. The
cursive black scribbling on the front hangs small across the middle of
the chest. The words? Southern Comfort. The man? "No Worries" Rob
Magnum. His feet perched on the oak desk in front of him, his body
leaning back in a leather chair, rocking. His hands and head, securely
attached to the cell phone on his ear, which he's fully entrenched in
a conversation on.]

RM: No, I completely understand what you're saying and I couldn't
agree more. No, I already _told_ you, you won the bet. I'll pay up
when I see you.

[The voice on the other end chatters away.]

I really did think they'd take longer to scatter out of that ring than
they did. It was like one minute they were there, then poof... they
were gone.

[The voice continues to chatter.]

Oh, absolutely, almost _exactly_ like a bunch of rats.

[That's right, more chitter chatter from the talkative other end of
the phone. Magnum continues to listen, absorbing every word of the
conversation. He abruptly breaks into a deep laugh, the sound carrying
out from his mouth across the room, he bellows out a deep chuckle.]

Well, in all fairness to The Widomakers. She's a mountain of a woman
and there's plenty of men who probably couldn't handle her. Not just
that heap of trash. But if your tryin' to sell me short for scattering
a whole crew of men just by squinting my eyes and furrowing my brown a
little, then screw you pal.

[The voice continues to banter into his ear. Their good natured
conversation continuing.]

Well, I could really go on all day when it comes to them. But let's be
serious for a second and get down to business. If I called to waste
your time, I wouldn't be talking about that talentless group of
trolls, and their "complicated" inner workings. I'd waste your time
talking about something at least a tad bit interesting.

Like Macroeconomics. Or Molecular Physics.

[Magnum drops his feet off the table, hunching his body forward and
leaning his left elbow on the table. His right hand clasps his cell
phone to his ear. Moving on from the obvious dig at two subjects that
do not appear to be near and dear to our beloved Magnum's heart.]

So... like I was saying the other day, they've got me squaring off
with The Mercenary and The Made Men this coming Wednesday. Yeah,
Craven's going to be there. Tuscon Kid'll be there too. Yeah, it's two
men more thaN I need out there. You and I both know that. But hell,
who am I to step in between a couple of men and their retribution?

[Magnum continues to jabber into the phone.]

So what I was thinking, since I'm in such a fetching mood lately, and
to be quite honest... a little bit _bored_. Why don't I fly you on out
here to Cali to take in the show? It's a short flight from New Mexico.
Plus it's near your old stomping grounds.

[The voice on the other end responds. The Charlie Brown parentish
response is muddled through the distance.]

Yeah, a little bit of company would certainly liven up the mood out
here. Hell, who knows, maybe I'll save you some leftovers and you can
come on out and throw a few shots The Mercenary's way yourself. We
both know everybody would get a kick out of that.

[The voice responds.]

I know.. we've _both_ chopped him down a peg or two in our days. But
some things never get old. It's like sex. Or pizza. Or pizza during
sex. It might be stale, it might not taste like it used to, but at the
end of the day... it'll still get you off.

[A slight chuckle through the other end of the phone which is followed
by a few more minutes of silence as the voice on the other end gives
Mags a mouthful.]

Yeah, that's the spirit! Why the _hell_ not? The more the merrier.
Bring 'em along too.

[The voice spits out one last line.]

Ok, I'll see you this week.

[Magnum hangs up the phone and we fade out.]


------------------------------------


JB: I wonder who Rob Magnum was talking too?

PW: Probably his care taker at the old folks home.  Haven't they found
him yet?

JB: You can't take anyting The Mercenary says seriously.

PW: So says the man who has called Made Men losers and now The
Mercenary a liar.  I wouldn't want to be in your shoes right about
now.

JB: Before we reach our main event let's get to our final production
piece and it's our NEW PVW Heavyweight Champion!

PW: Meh...


------------------------------------

Production video,

Brian Young

------------------------------------


[Black. The camera slowly fades in from black, as it does so it
focuses slowly upon the golden PVW Heavyweight Championship Belt
sitting upon a deep brown mahogany mantle. Sunlight glints off of the
highly polished gold; after a few long moments the camera pans back to
reveal Brian Young standing next to the mantle with a smile on his, as
if a weight has been lifted off of his shoulders. Brian is wearing a
pair of highly polished black dress shoes, black dress slacks and a
pale green dress shirt.]

Young: For the past week magazine after magazine has been calling
asking for an interview from the new PVW Heavyweight Champion and
their first question has been the same every single time ...

[A look of disgust comes across the face of Brian as he slowly shakes
his head and looks towards the floor.]

Young: How could you back stab Caleb Foley the way you did?

[Brian looks up at the camera perplexed. He shrugs his shoulders and
exhales deeply before speaking again.]

Young: And every single time I ask them one single question back ...
How did I back stab Caleb? When did I ever say that I wouldn't go for
the victory even if it meant I had to pin Caleb? I didn't in fact I
told BOTH Caleb and Chase that I would DO WHATEVER was necessary to
win this title!

[Brian points at the PVW Heavyweight Championship upon the mantle.]

Young: And I did just that ... I AM THE PVW Heavyweight Champion ... I
AM a champion for the tenth time! But no one asks me about that  ...
no all they are concerned with is a mythical back stabbing ...  What I
did to Caleb was not back stabbing ... I continued his lessons at End
Game. I told Caleb come End Game he would learn the most important
lesson I could possibly teach him and I did just that.

[Brian stares at the camera for a long moment.]

Young: Caleb, you learned first hand that life is not fair. I know you
are still reeling from the loss of your father but unfortunately it
was a lesson you needed to learn and you needed to learn it at my
hands. You see Caleb, me defeating you for the PVW Heavyweight
Championship has more impact than another loss to Chase Williams ...
the lesson is stronger coming from your mentor ... no it is stronger
coming from your FRIEND.

[As Brian looks at the camera a look of disappoint seems to be in his
eyes.]

Young: At the end of the day Caleb I still consider you a friend. So
if you want to believe in the hype of the back stabbing you do that
Caleb, you do that.

[Brian shakes his head in disgust and sighs as he looks back at the
camera. He turns and walks away from the mantle towards the sliding
glass doors which lead to the deck. The sun has set over the Phoenix
sky line and he slides the doors open. Young steps out onto the deck
and begins to speak again.]

Young: You see down there in the streets of Phoenix, the fans are
questioning my actions ... not fully understanding the lesson that I
attempted to teach you ... but you Caleb, you I thought would
understand and appreciate the lesson ... but the rumblings from the
various interviewers makes me see that you don't understand it either.
So Caleb, when you finally get over the fact that you failed a SECOND
TIME do me a favor and look into a mirror. As you stare at your
reflection I want you to ask yourself one question ... just one
question. Did I really stab you in the back or did you take that knife
hand and shove it so deep in your own back after Rise From the Ashes
that you never stood a chance? You see Caleb you put your personal
life before the business and in doing so you cost yourself the
opportunity to wear championship gold.

[Brian walks forward to the railing and leans over the railing looking
towards the streets below. After a minute Brian stands up and turns to
once again face the camera. His demeanor has changed as he seems more
annoyed than disappointed.]

Young: Caleb, blame me if it makes it easier to deal with.  However in
the end it's your own demons and ignorance that has sadly shackled you
into wrestling tag team matches against the OmniFlys of the world.
Caleb, as my father used to say... What doesn't kill you makes you...
wait actually it was more like deal with it kid... get over it!

[All fades to black.]


------------------------------------

Main Event,

"Bad Karma" RJ Souza

-VS-

Jaiden Andrews

------------------------------------


[Cue "Tortures of the Damned" by Bayside.

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

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

JB: Jaiden Andrews came in as the self proclaimed leader of the new
breed.  He looked to have all the promise in the world at becoming a
huge sucess in the PVW until a slip up in the match against Shayne
Grissom.

PW: Anyone who allows Grissom to beat you should just lay down and
call it quits.

JB: Tonight he has a huge oppertunity in the Main Event to right the
ship against PVW veteran, RJ Souza.

PW: Fat chance.

"A little bit more ATTITUDE!!!"

[A single spotlight shines of the ever dark RJ Souza. He holds both
hands over his head. Two white fireworks flow on both sides of the
entrence as he absorbs the fans jeers. He drops his hands and walks to
the ring.
The Man in black sides under the ropes and stands in the center,
pulling his arms back, ala a cross and turns his head to the left.]

JB: RJ Souza is out here and ready take it out on somebody after
losing to Chris Hartt in their final blow out match.

PW: He was robbed.  If his _WIFE_ would of stayed out of things then
he would of squashed Hartt and be the PvW Rising Phoenix Heritage
Champion right now.


<< DING  DING >>


JB: The bell has been sounded and RJ Souza isn't wasting any time
what-so-ever!

PW: Break him!

[Souza unloads with a series of right hands.... He whips Andrews into
ropes and catches him with a leaping knee. Andrews crashes hard onto
his back and Souza quickly follows up with a stiff stomp to the
forehead of Andrews. Andrews grabs his head as the referee steps in to
make sure no damage was done to the eye. Souza shoves the referee to
the side and pulls Andrews to his feet and fires a chop to the throat
of Jaiden. Jaiden stumbles back into the ropes as the referee warns
Souza to watch the throat. Souza smirks as he stalks Andrews; Andrews,
who is stilling holding his throat, catches Souza in the gut with a
stiff kick.]

JB: Andrews playing opossum there!

PW: You never see opossums on the golf courses.

JB: And you wonder why you're on Burning Effect now!

PW: Well rumor has it the show might be undergoing a change and they
want to make it the number one program for the PVW, so of course I
would be moved to it!

JB: Andrews on the offensive now as that Eupropean Uppercut nearly
took Souza's head off. And Andrews follows with a Palm Thrust to the
jaw!

PW: Jaiden Andrews looking a lot meaner here tonight.

JB: Andrews is proud of his strong style and he is letting Souza feel
it here in the early goings of this match up.

[Andrews grabs Souza by the right and quickly whips him to the far
side ropes. As Souza rebounds he grabs the top rope and pulls himself
under the bottom rope to the floor.]

PW: Souza with sound thinking there, going to the floor to stop
Andrews from gaining too much momentum!

[Jaiden rebounds off of the near side rope gaining additional momentum
as he rushes forward towards RJ.]

JB: Doesn't look like Andrews is giving Souza anytime to rest as he
leaps ...

PW: And RJ DUCKS TO THE FLOOR

[As Andrews leaps through the second and top rope while holding on to
the ropes, and uses the momentum to swing back around into the ring.]

JB: Jaiden Andrews with a heads up Tiger Feint Kick there to keep
himself in the ring. RJ getting to his feet ...

[Andrews grabs the top rope and swings his legs under the second rope
catching RJ in the jaw with a Modified Dropkick, RJ staggers backfirst
into the guardrail as Jaiden pulls himself back into the ring.]

PW: Moves like that are only going to fire 'Bad Karma' up!

[Souza slides into the ring but his met with a quick stomp to the
head. Andrews quickly pulls Souza to his feet once again and whips
him, as he does so he drops to the mat using every ounce of his weight
to whip Souza hard into the corner. The impact of whip causes Souza to
stumble out from the corner allowing Andrews to seize Souza in a head-
and-shoulder hold as in a standing side slam, and takes hold of
Souza's near leg's upper thigh with his free arm, and then falls
backwards and throwing Souza overhead down to the mat on his shoulders
and upper back, in the same motion as a belly to belly suplex.]

JB: EXPLODER! There is no one in the PVW who does that as well Jaiden
Andrews!

PW: Andrews fluid in crisp with that move and the beauty of it reminds
me of my golf swing last week ...

JB: Andrews with the early cover ...




ONE ...




TWO ...




THRE ...

PW: And Karma wasn't on Andrews side there as RJ Souza just gets that
right shoulder up!

[Andrews looks at the referee and tosses his hands in the air before
getting to his feet once again. He steps on the forehead of Souza and
just boot scrapes him. A smirk comes onto his face as he pulls Souza
to his feet and attempts to once again whip him into the ropes. Souza
reverses the Irish Whip sending Andrews into the far side ropes, Souza
catches the rebounding Andrews and executes a perfect Twilt-A-Whirl
Backbreaker. RJ pushes down on the head of Jaiden stretching him over
his knee for a few moments before dropping Andrews to the mat, stands
to his feet and drops a Headbutt.]

PW: I'm not sure how many brain cells Andrews has but that right there
is going to rock whatever he might have.

JB: Souza quickly turning the tide here as he pulls Jaiden to his feet
and takes him to the mat with a Russian Leg Sweep.

[Souza does not go for the cover instead pulling Andrews to his feet
and dragging him towards the corner where he locks on a Full Nelson.
Suddenly he begins to slam the head of Jaiden into the top turnbuckle,
the fans counting along to TEN before RJ releases the hold and shoves
Andrews into the mat.]

PW: The KARMA KLUTCH by Souza and like an uncrowned champion he is he
goes for the cover!




ONE ...




TWO ...




THR ...

JB: And Jaiden gets the right shoulder up!

PW: Come on where did this ref learn to count!

JB: Same place you learned how to score your golf cards?

PW: If that was the case he would know this match is over!

[Souza to his feet and drives the point of his knee into the head. He
forcibily pulls Andrews to his feet and catches him with a slap across
the face. Souza drives a knee into the gut of Andrews and places him
into position for a Powerbomb but Andrews drops to his knees to block
the move. Souza drives an elbow into the back of Andrews and once
again attempts to lift Andrews into the air. Jaiden though once again
blocks and powers RJ over with a Backdrop.]

JB: Jaiden still showing some fight left as he powers out of the
Powerbomb attempt.

PW: This man lost to Shyne Grissom it's only a matter of moments
before RJ Souza takes him out.

[Andrews drops an elbow into the upper chest of Souza and floats over
for a cover. Before he can even get a one count Souza kicks out.
Andrews grabs Souza by the hair, locks on a front chancery and takes
him over with a textbook Vertical Suplex. Andrews to his feet first
and rushes towards the near side ropes as Souza sits up Andrews drives
his boots square into his jaw with a Dropkick.]

PW: Jaiden knows if lets RJ to his feet this match is over so he is
taking every shortcut he can think of!

JB: A Dropkick is not a shortcut Preston! You requesting a mulligan is
though ... Andrews standing on the ring apron ... Sling Shot Leg Drop
finds it mark!




ONE ...




TWO ...




THRE ...

PW: And once again Souza kicks out! This strong style of Jaiden
Andrews just doesn't seem to be enough to keep a man down!

JB: Andrews is rolling right now!

PW: Isn't that a violation of the wellness policy?

JB: There's a wellness policy in PVW?

PW: I told you changes were a brewing Jack, I'd stay on my good side
if I was you!

JB: Since when did you find out anything before anyone else?

PW: Since I know there is still a match to be called. Souza needs to
get to his feet and get some offense going right now!

JB: Well Andrews is at least helping with the getting Souza to his
feet bit for you Preston.

[Both men are to their feet once again and Andrews spins Souza around
hooking him around the waist with both arms but Souza begins to drive
his elbow into the side of Andrews' head.]

JB: Andrews looking for a Backdrop Driver but Souza in a heads move
begins to fire off those elbows one after another to the side head ...

PW: And he's able to create seperation he grabs Jaiden and whips him
into the ropes ...

[As Jaiden approaches he leaps catching the head of Souza with his
legs and spins Souza to the mat with a Satellite Headscissors
Takeover. Andrews quickly kips back up to his feet and rushes towards
Souza who grabs the referee and shoves him into the path of Andrews
buying himself a moment.]

PW: Andres shoving the referee ... that should be a DQ!

JB: He only moved the referee cause RJ shoved him at him!

PW: We need to look into getting you glasses Jack, who knows that
might improve your putting game. And Souza drills Jaiden Andrews in
the gut with that boot!

JB: RJ locking on that Front Chancery ..

PW: He's looking for the Karma Drop ...

JB: NO! Jaiden Andrews powers out with a Northern Lights Suplex and he
maintains the bridge!




ONE ...




TWO ...




TH ...

PW: RJ quickly kicks out and kips up to his feet ...

JB: KARMA KICK!

PW: Picture perfect! He just drilled the jaw of Jaiden Andrews with
that Superkick! It's academic right now!




ONE ...




TWO ...




THREE !!!

PW: And Bad Karma with a decisive victory here tonight on Burning
Effect!

JB: I don't think it was a decisive as he would have liked but he put
away a tough competator in Jaiden Andews in impressive fashion!

PW: It's only a matter of time before RJ Souza is wearing gold here in
the PVW Jack ... and honestly if it wasn't for the cheating antics of
Chris Hartt making their match at End Games a submission match, he
would a champion right now!

[RJ Souza joins Paul Sandler on the outside and head back up the aisle
way.  Souza has a strong look across his face as he turns and raises
his hand.]

PW: Souza is back on target and he isn't going to stop until he gets
another shop at some gold.

[As Andrews slowly sits up, his face clearly disappointed after
another consecutive loss, he slaps the mat in disgust, then slowly
reaches his feet. He stands inside the ring, shaking his head, his
arms resting on the turnbuckles as he appears to mentally assess his
performance. Just as he turns to leave the ring, the lights go
completely black, and a spotlight begins to shine on the entrance.
After a moment, two men in hospital scrubs emerge, pulling a man in a
straightjacket and mask...]

JB: What in the hell? Who is this man?

PW: I don't know, but I like him already.

[Andrews can be seen through the darkness, staring down at the men in
confusion, and he rolls out of the ring to allow them to pass. As
Andrews and the three men are about to cross paths, the men in scrubs
block Andrews' path, and Andrews gets his first look at PVW's newest
signee, The Storyteller. Andrews senses danger, immediately going into
fighting stance, but it's too late... The Storyteller lifts a massive
foot and kicks Andrews, sending him flying backwards into the ringside
stairs.]

JB: Jesus Christ!

[The two men quickly attempt to free The Storyteller from captivity,
managing to get the mask off and begin unstrapping the straightjacket.
However, Andrews recovers in time to take a flying leap at the men,
sending all four to the ground... or so he thinks. The Storyteller
manages to maintain balance, shake the straightjack off, and with a
look of pure evil intent he grabs Andrews up by the throat, tossing
him like a ragdoll over the top rope and inside the ring with very
little effort.]

JB: This monster is manhandling Jaiden Andrews!

PW: Maybe he'll give Andrews a wake up call... he's not quite a leader
after all.

[At 6'10", 325 pounds, and a desire for violence, The Storyteller
continues his assault, stalking Andrews like a jungle cat waiting to
pounce on its prey. He gets into the ring, begging for Andrews to get
up, and the "SoCal Superstar" obliges, not even close to 100% after
losing to RJ Souza. As he does, The Storyteller grabs him around the
throat with both hands, lifts him high into the air, and lets him hang
there for a few moments before driving him into the mat with a sit-out
chokeslam.]

JB: Did you feel that? I think the ring shook!

[The men in scrubs quickly slide into the ring, taking out tazers and
attempt to subdue the beast. The Storyteller simply sits there, a
smirk on his face, staring into the lifeless face of Jaiden Andrews.
The two men grab him by each arm, and slowly pull him to his feet,
still threatening to electrocute him, but he's completely complient.
They manage to get the straightjacket back on, and escort him out, the
crowd booing and looking concerned for Jaiden Andrews... the damage
done.]



------------------------------------

Production video,

William Craven
------------------------------------


[Silence, darkness.  Fading in come words in white.]

Caption/Title: “'Man,' I cried, 'how ignorant art thou in thy pride of
wisdom!'”

-- Mary Shelley, “Frankenstein”.

[Drums thumping, horns playing, “Mars, the Bringer of War” by Gustav
Holst begins its gradual build.  Shadow pervades in an atmosphere best
described as subterranean.  Tensing, twitching, a green hand wrapped
in red gauze reaches from the left as the camera pans right, and grips
a textured metal handle as it comes into view.  A hard “clink” is
heard as a chain attached to the handle draws tight.]

WC: Left to our own devices, we tend to make decisions that benefit no
one.  In a vacuum, cut off from good advice, a man commits nothing but
selfish acts; undercutting his own ends.  Selfish acts, by their
nature, beget nothing but misery.

[Cut.  A mirror image of the previous image as a second handle is
gripped.  Cut to show William Craven, in all his green glory, pulling
both ends in, and in turn being lifted by them.  His head hanging low,
he is pulled in opposite directions by a pair of pulleys, sustaining
huge weights.
    He sustains that weight with the muscles spasming in his
    shoulders.  Rigid, looking every inch the crucified demon, his
    eyes roll back, his head dips, and he shakes with the isometric
    effort of maintaining the position.
       William speaks again, narrating as the video of himself
       continues to play.]

WC: Close the eyes, cover the ears, and scream...  Hearing nothing but
your own words.  Seeing nothing save your own childish desires.
Giving them room to grow, clearing away what virtues you had, and
turning from all that once cared for you.
    You draw in your enemies, sign a pact in blood, and all for the
    sake of vengeance against a man who had long since granted you
    safe passage ... a privilege you no longer appreciate...

[Cut.  A heavy chain, the kind used to hold small boats to a dock, is
lifted from a concrete floor.  Bill's red-bandaged hand lifts it, and
loops one end several times around each palm, grips tightly, and
lifts, straining.  Locking his elbows, Craven holds his arms straight
out to either side, about 150 pounds dangling from either end of the
chain.]

WC: So begins the fall of Richard Marley.  Hero to all, brother to
some, and a hollow shell to any who dared look close.  His fall comes,
heralded by his evasion of a creature that did not chase him, rallying
others to his cause, an alliance with those whose touch previously
would cause him to recoil.  He cast aside all those that sacrificed
for him in blind fear, and invited the revulsion of all those that
previously respected, or even admired, him.
    Such bitter irony.  You see, Richard, I see you as you are.  You,
    however, do not see me...
    ...and you never will.

[Cut again.  William, his face filling the screen, strains, his green
face flushing an odd, dull red, and raises, another thick chain looped
around his neck dangling down, a large stack of plates at the end of
it.]

WC: Any anger I felt before was as nothing; an errant lick of the suns
corona as compared to its heart.  Any uncertainty I held that kept my
actions in check is gone, less than a memory.  Freedom, horrible
freedom is mine again, and from this I cannot escape.

[Hanging down, his legs braced, Craven lifts, arching his back in
order to draw himself up horizontally, clutching hundreds of pounds to
his chest, sustained by his spine.]

WC: Why?  What have I done to draw such attention?  I've fought
unending battles, shown myself to be a gladiator born to the wrong
age, and hurt people.  No ... not people, just men; men who knew what
what they faced; what their fate held!  You deceive, you, who have had
so much your entire life, you who ally yourself with mercenaries.  You
who ally with men who injure women!  You dare to judge me!?

[Cut one more time.  Bill, live and in person, sitting, cross-legged
on the floor, drenched in sweat, staring off into nothing.]

WC: You've no right to judge me, Rick.  You've not walked a mile in my
shoes...

[His ice blue eyes wide, pupils contracted, Bill turns his attention
fully to the camera.]

WC: ...and you never will...

[With a clash of metal, all goes dark.  “Mars, Bringer of War”
silences momentarily before its pounding crescendo hits full-force.]

WC: For all the success you've had, the titles won, the legends
forged, there is one man who has sent your mind reeling back to the
womb from which it fell.

[The camera wheels about him in his concrete bunker filled with steel
as he pummels a heavy bag in slow motion, the last blow tearing it in
two, sending the sand and padding pouring out onto the floor.]

WC: For no matter how hard the hit, how deep the cut, how black the
bruise or how brutal the break, I could not be stopped!  When the
music man with his heavy.  Metal.  Instrument used my body as his
driveway, I dove through his windshield and dragged him out!  For the
unearthly way I have always persevered through impossible situations
and pushed on towards ultimate victory, you have always hated me for
YOU DID NOT UNDERSTAND!

[Bill stands just as the crescendo trails off, looking down at the
mess, shakes his head, and turns back to the camera.  Another clash
and instantly all is black.]

WC: ...And you never will.

[End.]