Burning Effect - May 27th 2008
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[The camera opens on the manager of PVW tag champions The Royal Family
CarlStevenson, who stands in the parking lot of the PVW Offices in
Phoenix's industrial district dressed immaculately in a black suit.
Another man stand beside him with pedestrian features and looks a few
years younger than Carl(28), who is also dressed in a suit]
Carl Stevenson: Slander... I don't appreciate being slandered in the
PVW Newsletters and accused of disliking the members of PVW's New
Breed movement. I'm actually one of the groups strongest supporters
and see a big things in the future of men like Stiff Larry Giopet and
Eric Wherewithal... just to name a few.
CS: And as a goodwill gesture I put in a few calls and helped PVW find
an interpreter, my brother Andrew, to help bridge the language barrier
on Burning Effect for first time tag partners The Tucson Kid and The
Dragon Kid... The Kids!
[Carl turns to his younger brother Andrew]
CS: Alright, this camera crew is scheduled to film the piece in an
hour. Good luck and have some fun.
[Carl pats him on the back and turns to the camera]
CS: Go New Breed!
[Carl walks off out of frame and the camera cuts black. Still images
flash across the screen as synthetic percussion is heard; wrestlers
with microphones, striking poses, standing before crowds. Johnny
Styles and Semi, CKD Abdullah, Caleb Foley, and Charles Lassiter, all
with their mouths open, talking.]
#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. Charles Lassiter, looking moody. 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. Steven Hayes and Jimmy Lane stand behind a conniving-
looking Samuel Cunningham. 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!#
[Major Damage, his glowing eyes looking out from a darkened room.]
#People can no longer cover their eyes#
#If this disturbs you then walk away#
[Apollo Jones and Bones Ellis
#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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[Then fade in on the PVW studio where two well-built middle-aged men
sit in tall stools on either side of a tall counter behind them. The
thicker, mustached man speaks up first.]
JB: Hello fans, and welcome to Phoenix Valley Wrestling's Burning
Effect. I'm Jack Britain, and with me as always is "Fabulous" Fred
Hoyle.
FH: Thrilled, as always, to be on television. You bet.
JB: Everyone knows that, Fred. We have ourselves a few matches and a
lot of footage from the superstars who make the PVW tick.
FH: Can we just skip to the matches?
JB: We could, but that wouldn't be fair to the fans tuning in. One
hour of Fred Hoyle doesn't excite too many people.
FH: Says who?
JB: Says The Prophets of Rage ..
------------------------------------
Production video,
Prophets of Rage.
------------------------------------
[Fade in:
The screen is black. There is nothing to see. No audio. Nothing.
Then there is a spark and a sizzling sound. A match head flares to
life. It illuminates the haunted and fevered eyes of one Shadoe Rage.
He holds up the match between thumb and forefinger and sets it to a
candle wick. The candle flickers. He shakes his hand and snuffs the
match until it trails bluish smoke. The candlelight renders the
background nearly invisible. All that is illuminated is Rage's face.
He is covered in hard shadows, tracing every edge and cranny of his
features. He looks distorted and sinister and demonic in the
underlighting.]
SR: Dragon Kid, Tucson Kid, Billy the Kid and whoever else you might
bring in your gang, I want to say this right from the beginning: I'm
sorry. I'm sorry for whatever you've done that earned you the
distinction of facing the Prophets of Rage in the ring. If you look
at the track record there isn't much solace for you. We kill. We're
the big bad monsters that lurk in the corner. We stay down in the
depths, the dirty dungeons and they throw us their weak and their
enemies to devour. Nobody wants to talk about it, but you see what's
been going on in the PVW tag-team ranks since the Prophets set up
shot. Highway 44 .... hotshot debut. Then they went up against the
Prophets. They ain't here no more. Sexual Energy. Supposed to be
the best tag-team in the business. They weren't good enough to
survive the Rages. And then came the UFOs. They didn't even try to
step in the ring with us not even once. They just bailed out. They
just left. They just quit. Bitches. So, now, it's your turn to step
into the arena. You notice that the Prophets don't lose. You notice
that the Prophets opponents don't survive.
[Another deep voice rumbles from somewhere outside the weak glow of
the candlelight.]
V: Gentlemen, a lot of wrestlers pretend to depths they don't have. A
lot of wrestlers rely on catchphrases and some funky moves to get
over. A lot of wrestlers try to make sure people remember their
gimmicks. This is a business where salesmanship counts for everything.
Without it there are no main events. Without it there are no fast
women or fancy cars. There are no big paydays or shares in a pay-per-
view. Well, the Prophets of Rage have a different sort of
salesmanship. See, we don't set up funny scenes like Urban Legend, we
don't jump around the ring and try thousands of similar and stupid-
looking moves. We are just two men who step in that ring, face down
our opponents and hurt them. Body and soul.
SR: Body and soul. We're going to hurt your souls first. And then
break your bodies. The problem with facing the Prophets is this. You
get up for us. You think that you're ready because you think the
Prophets of Rage have been around too long. We cover the same ground
again and again and again. We're old. We're tired. We have nothing
to accomplish, but it will mean something to you all to beat us. You
think that it's not that hard. And then you get in the war. And you
realise it's much harder than you can imagine. You realise it's far
harder. It's killing you just to defend yourself. We take away
everything that you like to do. And once we take it away then you
don't know what's left. Your teamwork isn't as good. Strangely, your
offence doesn't work like it used to. And you have to keep shifting
gears. You have to keep adjusting. If you think that you're just
going to be able to jump and dance around then you've made a big
mistake. Dragon Kid, you're too small. You're not big enough to
exert your will on either of us. How are you going to get us moving
fast enough? How are you going to create enough separation to get
your moves off? That's your challenge. And if Tucson Kid thinks he's
any different, you're not. Your staple moves have been scouted. You
may be a little better wrestler on the mat than your partner, but do
you really think you've got the skill to get anything done against us.
[Derek Rage moves into the shot. His body creates a shadow against
the wall. Shadoe lifts the candle as the camera tilts up to see his
impassive face.]
DR: We have a need for greatness. That need for greatness goes beyond
any compassion we may normally have for your souls. If we have to
break your bodies, split open your hearts and lay you bare before God
himself to add one more laurel to our crown we will. We don't have
any malice against you, Kids. [He shakes his head from side to side.]
We really don't. Truth is, we don't care about you. We don't feel
one way or another about you. But we're going to hurt you. And your
flickering star will simply ... fade to black.
[With that he snuffs the candle between his fingers. We see
absolutely nothing.]
SR: Die in darkness, Kids. Die in darkness.
[Cut back to Jack and Fred.]
JB: The Prophets of Rage appear to hold the title of the PVW Tag Team
Enforcers... Sort of the Gateway if you will. On HeatWave they set
forth to teach The Dragon and Tucson Kid a lesson.
FH: After HeatWave we will call them the Killers of the New Breed.
JB: It's only a matter of time until they get a PVW Tag Team Title
show, but standing in their way first is their blood feud with Urban
Legend.
FH: Says next Tommy Ryder has some footage. I'm a bit shocked he
isn't on Burning Effect. Has he finally graduated to HeatWave?
JB: He is set to take on wrestling veteran, Tyrone Parker.
------------------------------------
Production video,
"The Phenom" Tommy Ryder.
------------------------------------
[Fade in from black with 'The Phenom' Tommy Ryder and 'Lady' Laurel
Levinger standing in the light.]
TR: I've worked for everything I've ever gotten.
[Highlights of Tommy's first two matches flash by.]
TR: Now I'm here in Phoenix Valley Wrestling and the stakes are even
higher.
[The camera closes in on Tommy's face, intensity burning in his eyes.]
TR: Each night I've gone out there and shown why I am the phenom of
the PVW. I will take risks that others wouldn't consider. I will
take chances that seem foolish. I will pull off moves that people
didn't think possible.
[A clip of Tommy running up Travis Williams and kicking him in the
face while standing on his shoulder plays.]
TR: I will continue to show the fans that size isn't what makes the
wrestler. Skill, heart and determination are the things that make a
wrestler. Tonight, I face a veteran. Tyrone Parker, I've heard some
say that you're on the downside of your career. That you need this
win tonight to show PVW that you still have it. Well that's the way I
like it. You see, I need this win too. I need to prove to the fans,
to PVW, to everyone that believes that they can do it if they try that
'The Phenom' Tommy Ryder is real! That I'm not some snot nosed kid
that thinks he can just come in here win a couple of matches and be a
legend!
[Tommy looks from the camera, pauses and turns back.]
TR: Tyrone, I don't care what some of the people say. I'm looking for
your "A" game tonight! I'm not going to trash talk you and say that
you don't have a chance. You've been here. You're the veteran. I'm
the new guy. I'll give you the respect you deserve for being here. I
don't expect you to come to that ring with any respect for me. None!
But know this, after our match tonight you will have respect for the
phenom!
[The camera pans over to 'Lady' Laurel Levinger.]
LL: Mr. Parker.
[Laurel glares slightly out of the corner of her eye at Tommy then
looks back to the camera.]
LL: Tommy has asked me to take a hands-off approach to your match
tonight.
[A clip is shown of Laurel back suplexing Andy Action from the ring
apron to the floor while landing on her feet.]
LL: He feels that it's important to beat you at your best using his
best. Oh and Mr. Parker, he will beat you. You aren't looking at a
man that will showboat and parade around. You are looking that the
Phenom! The man that will find your weakness and exploit it for
everything it's worth!
[Laurel is looking at and pointing at the camera as if it were Tyrone
himself.]
LL: I'm not going to say that you aren't washed up or that you aren't
a has been. Tommy is part of the New Breed here in PVW and you have
no idea what you're in for tonight! Oh you don't need to worry about
me tonight Mr. Parker. I won't interfere. I won't get involved.
I'll just be there to watch my man move another step up that ladder of
success.
[The scene fades back to black on Tommy and Laurel.]
JB: Tommy Ryder has picked up two impressive wins thus far. He is set
to steam roll into HeatWave. However before we continue let's cut to
Eric Williams taking on "Big" Gene Gaines.
------------------------------------
One on One Action,
"Wherewithal" Eric Williams
v. "Big Gene Gaines
------------------------------------
["Big" Gene Gaines is already standing in the ring awaiting his
opponent.]
[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: Williams has pretty impressive thus far in his early career. He
took Gionet to the end, but just fell short. Gionet is in the Main
Event later tonight.
FH: They don't come much stronger then Gionet.
*** DING DING ***
JB: There is the bell and "Big" Gene Gaines isn't wasting any time!
FH: Hit him hard and fast.
[Gaines drops a double axe handle on the mid back of Eric Williams. He
drops another one. He backs him up with quick stiff forearms and whips
him across the ropes... Williams rebounds, but quick on his feet ducks
under a wild right hand. Williams rebounds and leaps into a cross-body
block, but the much bigger Gaines catches him.]
JB: This smells like trouble.
"___SLLAAMM___"
FH: Big forceful powerslam by the 300 pounder and this one could
already be over!
ONE ...
TWO ...
[Kick Out Pop!]
JB: Williams with a kick out. Gaines pulling him back up and Williams
trying to fight back, but "Big" Gene Gaines scoops him up and slams
him down to the canvas. Gaines off the ropes and leaps with a big leg
drop --- .
"___SLLAAMM___"
[Nobody home Pop!]
FH: Williams just rolls out of the way from being flattened.
JB: Williams is smart and lighting quick he is back up and tossing
bombs.
FH: They look more like love taps.
[Williams sends Gaines off the ropes and on the rebound he locks a
Sleeper hold!]
JB: Williams looking to put the big man asleep!
FH: He is doing a good job of putting me to sleep. Talk about boring.
["Big" Gene Gaines drops down to one knee. Williams is keeping that
Sleeper on tight. The referee checks Gaines, but he is waving his arms
wildly trying to stay awake. With one last effort he raises to his
feet and picks up Williams sideways -- ]
"__THHUUDD__"
JB: Sidewalk Slam counter by Gaines! He drapes an arm across...
FH: Over in 3...
ONE ...
FH: 2 ...
TWO ...
FH: 1...
JB: NO! Williams shoots a shoulder up!
FH: Bummer.
[Gaines yanks the 187 pounder up and goes to set him up for a
Powerbomb. He lifts him up, but Williams up top begins tossing
bombs... Williams then locks his legs around Gaines neck and twists
sending him down with a head scissors takedown counter.]
JB: What a heads up counter by Eric Williams!
[The fans are behind the youngster as he grabs the head of Gaines as
he pulls him up and ... ]
"___CRRAACCKKK___"
JB: Headbutt followed by a double-leg takedown!
FH: I think that headbutt may have hurt Williams more then Gaines.
JB: He is grabbing the arm of Gaines..... Kimura Arm Lock!!!!!
FH: Is he trying to break his arm?
[Gaines swinging his free arm wildly looking close to tap out, but it
must be his lucky day, because he was close enough to the ropes he was
able to just grab the bottom ropes with his finger tips.. The referee
Jay O'Riley breaks the hold.]
JB: Very close call right there. A strong MMA move that has put many
of men away inside a cage.
FH: Not "Big" Gene Gaines though!
[Williams is back on his feet and he awaits Gaines to make his way up.
"Big" Gene Gaines uses the ropes to rise to his feet and Williams
shoots in with another double leg take down, this time Gaines was
ready and drives a big knee right into the chops of Williams. This
dazes the youngster as Gaines begins dropping bombs.]
FH: Gaines is now playing with him. That knee nearly knocked out
Williams.
JB: He better be careful.
[Gaines backs Williams into the corner and drives shoulders into the
midsection as the fans boo. Gaines walks out holding his arms out
saying it's over. Gaines turns around just in time to eat a back elbow
that turns his Gaines around; dazing him!!!]
JB: What did I tell ya Fred!
FH: It's not over.
[Williams grabs Gaines into a belly-to-back suplex that, in mid-throw
turns into a crippler crossface!!!]
JB: Vow-Breaker!
FH: Holy crap!
[This time Gaines wasn't so lucky as he was a good distance away from
the ropes and a few seconds later the big man taps his hand on the
mat.]
JB: Eric Williams takes Gene Gaines down with his Vow-Breaker and
another impressive performance for Williams!
FH: It wasn't bad.
------------------------------------
Remote feed,
"The Fighting Irishman" Caleb Foley and Outlaw.
------------------------------------
[Peoria avenue, Phoenix, Arizona. The camera fades in and you see
Caleb Foley getting out of a 1995 blue Honda Civic. Caleb has on a
pair of blue shorts and a white PVW t-shirt. While Outlaw is standing
there, wearing his usual jeans and [bleep] t-shirt, waiting there with
his arms crossed.]
Outlaw: Your [bleep]ing late.
Foley: No I'm not you told me to meet you here at noon and it is only
11:30.
[Outlaw looks down at his watch.]
Outlaw: Oh. Well. [bleep].
[Outlaw turns to face the building in front of him, and with arms
spread wide...]
Outlaw: Welcome to [bleep] Burger King.
Foley: Uh, what?
Outlaw: You said you wanted to [bleep] train with me for our [bleep]
match against the [bleep] Royal Family.
Foley: I kinda thought we'd be hitting the gym or watching some tapes.
Outlaw: What the [bleep] for? We're [bleep] training for a
[bleep]wrestling match, not a [bleep] gymnastics competition.
Foley: I.... [shakes his head in defeat] Alright. I really should've
known better.
[The two men walk into the restaurant.]
Outlaw: It's [bleep] brilliant really. Look at [bleep] Monarch. You
know that [bleep] has spent more than his [bleep] fair share of
[bleep] time in a Burger King.
Foley: I think he's spent his fair share, and MY share of time as
well.
[Foley cracks a smile.]
Outlaw: What the [bleep] are you talking about?
[And just like that the smile disapears.]
Foley: Nothing.
Outlaw: [bleep]. So it's pretty [bleep] simple. We go to the
[bleep]counter there, order about -- oh, I don't know -- fifty [bleep]
whoppers, and train like [bleep] Monarch.
Foley: 50 WHOPPERS?!?
Outlaw: Not enough?
Foley: I don't think us eating that much junk is going to help us in
any way.
Outlaw: No [bleep]?
Foley: Seriously, if anything, it'll just make us feel like crap and
slow us down during the match. I think our speed and agility will be
an asset against our tag match versus The Family.
Outlaw: [bleep] The Royal Family.
Foley: I was thinking more of beating them and taking their title.
Outlaw: Wait. This is for the [bleep] tag titles?
Foley: Well, yes.
Outlaw: Well [bleep] me stupid and call me BOBBY [bleep] COLE.
Foley: I'd rather not.
Outlaw: This [bleep] changes everything. We need to take this [bleep]
match seriously.
Foley: Alright, that's what I'm talking about. So let's get out of
here and train properly then...
[He turns to head out the door.]
Foley: So where we going?
Outlaw: Uh, we're not [bleep] going anywhere. We're just going to
[bleep] train differently.
[Foley stops.]
Foley: Oh. Here at the Burger King.
Outlaw: Where the [bleep] else do you want ot learn about the [bleep]
Royal Family.
Foley: Anywhere?
[Outlaw laughs..]
Outlaw: That's pretty [bleep] funny. You're a funny [bleep] guy for a
jobber.
[Outlaw starts walking towards the kids area as Foley is trying to
catch up to him.]
Foley: Thanks.. wait, what? Jobber?
[Foley quickly catches up to Outlaw as the camera follows the pair.]
Foley: What do you mean Jobber?
Outlaw: Oh right. You [bleep] guys don't [bleep] like that term. My
bad, Enhancement Talent. You're pretty [bleep] funny for an
Enhancement Talent guy.
Foley: But.. I'm not...
[Outlaw pats young Caleb on the head.]
Outlaw: It's ok. We all need to [bleep] start somewhere. Well except
for [bleep] me. I was never a [bleep] jobber.
Foley: But. but..
Outlaw: I know I know. It must be [bleep] awesome to be in my [bleep]
company. Don't worry buddy, you'll get your [bleep] shot at the big
time, like tagging with me.
Foley: You do remember I was the number one contender right? I was the
only guy to take Chase Williams to the limit at Rises of Ashes?
Outlaw: Riiiiiiiiiiiiiight.. You keep [bleep] telling yourself that.
[Outlaw climbs up into the playland, and stops at the ball pit.]
Foley: Now what?
Outlaw: Now we [bleep] train.
[With that, Outlaw grabs a hold of Foley's shirt and tosses him into
the ball pit.]
Foley: What the hell?
Outlaw: Lesson number one. Paul [bleep] Styles is a little [bleep].
[Outlaw looks around.]
Outlaw: Kinda like this [bleep] kid. You can just see the weasily way
he looks at the other [bleep] kids. This kid, is like Paul [bleep]
Styles.
Foley: What are you --
[Before he can finish his thought, Outlaw grabs the kid by the shirt
and the back of his pants and tosses him into the ballpit on top of
Foley.]
Foley: OUCH !!!
[Outlaw looks at the other kids, and grins. He grabs a kid wearing a
cardigan sweater.]
Outlaw: Now here, you have Steve [bleep] Carlson.
Foley: You mean Carl Stevenson.
Outlaw: [bleep] Carl Stevenson. Look at this guy with his fancy
clothes. Looking down at the other [bleep] kids.
Foley: Well you can hardly tell that from looking at his shirt.
[The camera catches a glimpse of cardigan flying through the air,
before the child lands on Foley]
Outlaw: I can [bleep] tell.
Foley: Ok, you gotta stop pitching kids at me.
Outlaw: Soon enough.
Foley: SOON ENOUGH
[Outlaw grabs a poor unfortunate fat kid.]
Foley: Lemme guess Jonathan Monarch?
Outlaw: For [bleep] starters.
[As quick as can be, Outlaw hurls the poor youth into the ballpit.]
Outlaw: But Monarch is a fat [bleep].
[Before Foley can remove "Monarch" off of him, Outlaw tosses another
kid onto the young irishman.]
Outlaw: Fatter than [bleep] that even.
[He quickly grabs two more kids and tosses them.]
Outlaw: [bleep] getting there.
[Foley tries to move the kids out of the way, but it's no use, as
Outlaw just keeps shoving more and more of them into the ballpit on
top of the pile.]
Outlaw: That looks about [bleep] right.
[Outlaw hops down, and makes his way to the side of the ballpit.]
Outlaw: Hmm..
[He looks at the ballpit, which contains about twenty children of
various sizes. He reaches in the netting, and pulls out Foley by the
back of his shirt.]
Outlaw: Lesson [bleep] learned?
[Gasping for his breath Foley starts to talk. ]
Foley: I'm guessing you found that funny.
Outlaw: Training is serious [bleep] business. Now get the [bleep] out
of there, I think I saw a [bleep] White Castle down the street.
[Foley groans as he slides back down into the balls.]
------------------------------------
Production video,
"The Fighting Irishman" Caleb Foley.
------------------------------------
[The camera fades in to 52nd Street Armory. "The Fighting Irishman"
Caleb Foley is just sitting in the front row and has his head down.
Caleb picks up his head and stares into the camera...]
Caleb Foley: "My whole life I have been told Caleb your too small to
be a wrestler. Your not strong enough ... Your not championship
material ... You do not have the heart or drive to make it in a
wrestling business. But in just four short months I have done a lot
here in Phoenix Valley Wrestling. I have wrestled for a World Title
... teamed with legends of this sport ... and as far as I am
concerned the time has come for me to stop being bullied here in the
PVW..."
[Caleb begins to rub his hands together...]
Caleb Foley: "Last week I listened to Rob Cole and what he had to
say. A man who I truely admire and respect for what he has done for
the business. A wrestling legend who basically came out and told all
the PVW that I was being BABIED. And you know what Cole was right
about that. Take for instance my match against Major Damage. I
didn't win that match. Heck I watched the tapes Major Damage
completely man handled me in the ring. Major Damage was toying with
me. Damage quite frankly wanted to use me as an example. He wanted
to show the world that Caleb Foley was nothing more than another no
named rookie. And you know what he did just that. The only reason I
won that match was because The Mercenary was sitting at ringside.
The only thing I have shown thus far in that ring is that I can take
a beating..."
"So I thought to myself what would greats like "The One" Brian Young
would do if they were in my situation..."
[A brief pause...]
Caleb Foley: "And then it came to me ... They would get up and ask
for more. And they would keep asking for more until their opponent
had nothing else left in the tank and then that is when they would
strike. That is when they would get their second wind and really
showcase their abilities inside that very ring. So this week I am
gonna do just that but I am not gonna be alone. No this week The
Fighting Irishman has a chance to be a champion. This young rookie
gets to team up with The Outlaw to take on the Royal Family for the
Phoenix Valley Wrestling Tag Team Titles..."
"Now some would say that I should be confident going into this match
while others will think I am in over my head. The Royal Family has
been together for years. And everyone knows what they are about.
They lie ... cheat ... and steal ... Now my partner and I may not
know each other as well as Paul and Jonathan know each other but I
see that as an advantage for us. It is our recklessness that has
gotten us this far and I was always told to stick with what got you
here..."
"So let's look at the tale of the tape shall we. Jonathan Monarch is
a monster of a man. He weights very close to six hundred pounds and
is almost seven feet tall. That is a big boy. Then we have Paul
Styles. A man who calls himself a 'Rolemodel'but one has to wonder
what is he a 'Rolemodel' for? Paul has held numerous titles has
beaten legends and claims to be the best techinical wrestler this
sport has to offer..."
"We all know what is gonna happen. We all know how Styles is gonna
come out here and talk about his past accomplish and how he is the
best looking man on this planet. Paul is a man of very many words.
Paul loves to stroke his own EGO. Paul Styles calls himself a
Rolemodel but I am telling you he is nothing more than a FRAUD..."
[The camera zooms in and you can see the determination in Caleb's
eyes...]
Caleb Foley: "Styles you see to me it isn't about winning those tag
titles from around your waist. No Paul to me it is about shutting
you up once and for all. I am sick of hearing how you did this and
that ten years ago. Well guess what Paul newsflash this is the year
2008 and your not gonna party like it is 1998. So Paul cut the crap
and let be honest. Paul you are afraid of Rob Cole ... Brian Young
... and other men from your past. You know deep down in your heart
that you can't wrestle anymore and all you have is your past
accomplishments. Yeah you may be PVW Tag Team Champions but you look
who you have in your corner. You have a man who outweighs both
Outlaw and myself. A man who if he eats a bowl of chilli and farts
can probably clear out whole areana. Paul you won the PVW Tag Titles
because you just outsmarted everyone. Paul one thing you are still
very good at is strategy but let's see I am gonna call your bluff
right here and right now..."
"We all know your manager is gonna be at ringside. Then let's see
you will probably also have Chase Williams do a run-in at some point
or maybe he will do color commentary. As far as the match goes well
you'll do what you always do and that is take cheap shots. So
Monarch will start off the match and work most of the match trying
to overpower myself and Outlaw. Then when we are on the mat you will
sneak in kick us a couple of times and then tag back out. How am I
doing so far?"
"Paul you say your the face of the PVW. Well I have a challenge for
you. I want you to prove it. I want you to prove me wrong. How about
you actually get in a match and actually wrestle for once instead of
talking. And Paul a word of advice a true 'Rolemodel'doesn't claim
to be one ... a true 'Rolemodel'doesn't have to keep reminding
people he is one ... because the people know it without him saying
it..."
"Jonathan Monarch ... your taller than me .. heavier ... more
powerful .. have more experience ... and the list can go on and on.
But Monarch you see that doesn't matter to me. Go ahead I want you
to hit me with Air Monarch. Then after I kick out of it the look on
your face and Paul will be priceless. Monarch you have a chance to
do something with your career but as long as you hang around with
guys like Paul Styles he is gonna always hold you back. Paul doesn't
care about you all he cares about is himself. Think about it. Who
worked most of the match last week. You did. Who was left in the
ring to fend off three guys? You were. So Monarch where was Styles
when you needed him the most. That's right I recall seeing him
walking up the aisle way. Monarch you and I both know you are
nothing more than a pawn in The Royal Family chess game and every
pawn can be expendable..."
[Caleb stands up from his chair and points to PVW...]
Caleb Foley: "Inside that ring I will not be denied ... I will show
the Rob Cole's that I am not a BABY ... the Paul Styles that I
belong here ... I will give the fans a match they will never forget
... But most of all I am gonna shut Paul Styles up..."
[Foley pauses for a second...]
Caleb Foley: "And by the way Chase don't think I forgot about you ..
We have some unfinished business ... Monarch and Styles I want you
to sleep with those Tag Titles because after Heatwave they are gonna
have a new owner.."
[The camera fades back to the black...]
JB: Outlaw and Foley geared to capture those PVW Tag Team Titles, but
they have quite a challenge. The Royal Family hated by pretty much
everyone has been a master at figuring out just how to win.
FH: That's right Jack. Through out their whole career they have stood
at the top of whatever wrestling federation. It's going to take more
then some crush from Foley and Outlaw to win.
------------------------------------
Production video,
"The One" Brian Young.
------------------------------------
[Scene fades in from black to reveal a dimly lit room. As the camera
slowly pans about the room a lone figure stands out on a balcony, the
sliding glass doors are wide open allow a breeze to move the curtains
on the windows. The figure just stares looking out at the landscape as
the camera continues to move closer through the room. The figure is
wearing a plain black t-shirt and a pair of white wind pants. He
begins to speak and the voice is recognized as that of Brian Young.]
BY: The more things change the more they stay same. There has never
been a phrase any truer than that.
[Brian turns around and faces the camera as he does so he winces in
pain but he quickly changes his expression as he continues to speak.]
BY: At Rise from the Ashes I once again bore witness to a bully doing
what he does best, pushing around the youngster, as he tried to make
himself feel tough. Chase Williams was pushed to his limits and even
though he won the match you could see in eyes he was embarrassed that
he was not as dominate as he thought he would be.
Caleb Foley gave the champ a run for his money … a fact that took the
PVW by shock, I'm sure, but Chase you need to realize that that is not
the time in history a rookie shocked the industry and honestly it's
not going to be the last.
[Brian pauses as he slowly rubs his right shoulder, once again he
noticeably winces in pain.]
BY: I have a question for the illustrious PVW Champion … what exactly
have you done since Rise from the Ashes? You claimed that you would
win the six man tag match … DIDN'T HAPPEN! You said that you would
take the Canadian has been out … DIDN'T HAPPEN! Chase, as the time
passes a simple fact will become evident to you as it is to the
rest of us: you're simply second rate.
[Brian begins to walk into the room, as he does so he pulls off the
black t-shirt revealing a large deep purple colored bruise upon his
shoulder and throughout his pectoral muscle.]
BY: Now onto a more important Chase … the chase for a shot at the PVW
Heavyweight Championship; a chase that brings me directly into the
quote unquote crosshairs of the one and only Major Damage. A man who
claims that I am familiar to him … I have to be honest I don't
remember anyone in a gas mask Major Damage, but please don't
take offense I have had more than one concussion in the last nine
years.
[Brian exhales slowly and tosses the shirt upon a nearby chair.]
BY: I have to be a bit honest though Major Damage if the rumors that
Rick Marley are true and you are that very man under the mask … then
yes you are familiar. You would be a man who called me a friend. A man
who would stand by my side in tag matches and use a right jab as a
tag, a man who would celebrate a win by slamming a chair into
my back and expecting me to return suit. And honestly Major Damage
that fact alone makes me a bit scared to step into the ring with you.
[Brian continues to walk towards the kitchen and opens the freezer
pulling an ice pack forth from it. He motions for the camera to follow
as he heads into the bathroom where he opens the medicine cabinet and
pulls out a roll of white tape.]
BY: I've watched your path of rage as you have torn through opponent
after opponent, made poor sap after poor sap bleed … hell I know you
have yet to be pinned here in the PVW. So while the internet polls
claim that Rob Cole is the odds on favorite to head to End Game to
face Chase Williams for the PVW Heavyweight Championship, I
personally wouldn't be surprised if you end up with that honor. I mean
look at you Major Damage; you're the flag waving cacti crusher of the
Southwest.
But Major Damage at six feet four inches tall … you aren't the biggest
man I ever faced in the ring. Honestly, you're not going to be the
first slightly deranged man that I faced in the ring and you sure
aren't going to be the first man who has tried to make me bleed
either. In fact Major Damage now that I think about it I don't
think you will be the one going to End Game to face Chase Williams.
The PVW placed a roadblock in front you of Major Damage; a five foot
eleven inch two hundred and twenty seven pound roadblock.
[Brian places the ice pack upon his shoulder and motions for the
cameraman to hold it in place as he begins to tape the ice pack to his
shoulder. Upon finishing he stares into the mirror.]
BY: Major Damage, once a man steps into the ring with you it becomes a
war zone instead of a wrestling ring… but I want you to know that this
isn't my first battle and it sure as hell isn't going be my last.
You're looking at man who's taken on the so called biggest and
toughest in the business and beaten them. A man who has bled
so much there is a wing of the Detroit Blood Bank named after him.
There's more blood OUTSIDE of my body than there is INSIDE at this
point. But that doesn't matter to me … you see Damage there is nothing
I desire more than to be the man to take that PVW Heavyweight Strap
from around the Chase Williams and end the reign of the
second rate champion.
I won't lie I'm scared as hell of what you can do to the normal man
Major Damage but I've never once let my fears keep me from attaining
my goals. Ask Retribution, I wanted to be the Franchise and I beat
that monster to become just that. I want to be the PVW Heavyweight
Champion and to do that I need to beat YOU. Come Heatwave we
will see if the flag waving cacti crusher of the Southwest is going to
be the one to stop Brian Young in his quest for the PVW Championship.
[Brian pauses and turns around staring directly into the camera.]
BY: Honestly I don't think you can stop me.
[Slowly all fades to black.]
FH: Brian Young is in trouble. He can talk about Chase Williams all
he likes, but he isn't going to make it past HeatWave.
JB: He does have quite the challenge with Major Damage.
FH: Quite the Challange?
JB: Okay a huge challange.
------------------------------------
Remote feed,
"The Outcast" Rob Cole and "Paladin" Chris Hartt.
------------------------------------
[In a rundown warehouse, 'Swingin' Dean Hayes catches up with Chris
Hartt, dressed in street clothes, carrying his title and walking with
a purpose down the hall.]
Hayes: Chris, what are your thoughts about the Royal Family's
intervention on your match last week?
Hartt: I don't sweat the Royal Family whatsoever! Jonathan Monarch
and Carl Stevenson may think they're owed a title shot, but walking
down during a match they don't belong in doesn't make that so.
Matter of fact, they can just sit back and suck wind, because if they
aren't willing to actually do the WORK involved to make their claim
legitimate, then they can just sit backstage and whine all they like.
I worked my ass off to get where I am and there's no way in hell I'm
about to let some fat-assed bag of wind try to bluff his way where he
doesn't belong.
Monarch, you got problems with that? Pull the pound of Twinkies out
of your mouth and go call someone who cares, cuz I don't!
Deano, I gotta offer props to Jimmy Lane. He gave me a hell of a
fight, despite the unnecessary interruption. And Sam Cunningham
definitely earned some respect. All I can say to both of them is...we
may not see things the same way and may never be on the same side, but
you gentlemen have a bit of my respect. Someday soon, we'll have that
match as it was truly meant to be.
Hayes: What are your thoughts going into this match with RJ Souza?
Hartt: Once more, we come to face each other and the resolution to
all of this crap will be reached. There's no more need for talk and
no more need to press issues that are either falsified or irrelevant.
He and I are gonna finally settle all differences in that ring.
There's not enough time to really get into it, but it all ends
tonight!
[Hartt turns a corner and shoves open the door of the worn-down
warehouse. The camera follows him as he stalks into the large gym, his
stride taking him to stand in front of Rob Cole. The Outcast glances
up with bleary eyes, unshaven and filthy from his latest binge.
Bottles are scattered around the bench press as Hartt stares down in
disgust.]
Hartt: What. The. Hell? What is wrong with you, man? This is what
you've let yourself become? Some Legend!
[Cole lowers his eyes, shaking his head a little… Hartt grabs him by
the hair, and forces Cole to stare into his eyes. The "Legend" seems
confused and maybe a little frightened as he stares into the eyes of
the Heritage Champion.]
Hartt: What the hell is wrong with you? This isn't the Monster Under
the Bed! This is no hardcore legend! You've become a pathetic
excuse! You want that? Some jackass is out there pretending to be you
and insulting who you are and all you can do is crawl inside of a
bottle!
[Cole slowly rises, taking a deep breath as he tenses… and releases it
with slump of his shoulders. He stares down at his feet, at the
bottles around him, and shakes his head... he looks at Chris.]
Cole: What do you want from me, Chris? Everyone wants the monster,
the horror, the filth, and all the violence… maybe I can't do it
anymore, maybe Spectre is everything I can't be anymore. Maybe Paul
Styles is right... it twists my gut, but maybe this really is just
pushing myself past my prime.
Hartt: Spectre? Styles?? You're letting them call the shots now?
All Spectre is is a reflection. A reflection of who you once were.
Who you used to be. Don't look back. Look ahead and know where you
are. Look, "Friend Cole", maybe you were those things! Maybe you
lived those things to the point where they do no longer matter! But
the one thing behind it all, the one thing that never dies...you are a
MAN!!
Cole: Yeah... maybe you're right... maybe I see what I hate in myself
in him. Doesn't change anything... just twists the hurt further,
Chris. How can I grab that title when I can't even overcome this damn
bottle right now? I appreciate you trying to help… but maybe you
should just turn your back and walk out, now.
[Cole shrugs his shoulders as Chris Hartt smiles sadly… and suddenly
hauls out and SLAPS the taste out of the Outcasts' mouth! Cole's eyes
open wide, and a fury begins to fuel him as his shoulders rise. ]
Hartt: Makes ya mad, doesn't it? Insults your pride? GOOD! At
least you can still realize that you HAVE pride in yourself! I can
walk away anytime, but you can never walk away from yourself! GET
mad! GET violent! Get realizing you have a responsibility to who you
are!! Letting them control your path is just giving up and that's
just wrong!!
[Cole continues to stare, his body trembling as he watches Hartt,
listening to the younger man as he continues his speech.]
Hartt: You may not agree with anyone around here, but a lot of people
look up to you. A lot of people look to see how you handle situations
and carry some measure of that attitude with them. You lead more than
this locker room, man. You lead this COMPANY! You can sway and
falter, but you HAVE to get back up!! Once you stay down, you're dead
and buried! Maybe we're not best friends, but I refuse to let you do
that before it's your time. Sober up! Wake up! There's blood to
spill and asses to kick and only a little time left to do it!
[Hartt stares for a moment longer into the eyes of Rob Cole… he slowly
turns away and takes a step when he hears the crash of bottles and
broken glass behind him. He doesn't turn, but he pauses…. We can't
fully see beyond him,
Cole is obscured by the Champions form. There is silence for a
moment.. and then the bench press lifts and falls, rising again before
it drops with a crash! The weights are hauled up again, and Hartt
nods... walking on.]
JB: I guess we know what mind frame The Outcast will be in come
HeatWave.
FH: What a shame.
JB: Spectre has been a walking savage and the fans last hope in Rob
Cole to stop his devistating path appears to be lost.
FH: Broken.
------------------------------------
Backstage segment,
Urban Legend.
------------------------------------
[CRASH! Backstage at the 52nd Street Armory, a bench is thrown
against the wall. The timestamp in the corner of the footage reads
May 14th, just after Heatwave, as the view pans out to the large, and
currently angry, member of Urban Legend, Semi, staring at the
offending wall and exhaling heavily. Beyond him, the bruised
Nightfire uses the same thermos that struck her as a makeshift
ice-pack, being both consoled and scolded by her (seconds) older
sibling.]
Semi : What... the hell... does it take ta give these guys an honest
ass-kickin and be done with em?
Stalker : Had t'lose mine.
[Semi turns towards the suddenly... there... Stalker, and grunts.]
Semi : I had him... that little, annoying good for nothing -- [He
catches sight of the camera.] -- person... and that -- [Still looking
at the camera.] -- wench got in the way one too many times.
Stalker (blandly) : Excuses.
[Semi gives his teammate a long, hard glare... then sighs.]
Semi : Yeah, yer right. That was almost as bad as them blaming Gedsy
for losin. Not our fault they got a flake fer a partner. [He
sighs.] I gotta hand it to em, they ain't messin around either for
all the idiotic crap they pull. There's gotta be somethin we can do
to put the nail in the coffin on this... preferably theirs.
[At the last turn of phrase, Stalker's eyebrows raise as if he just
thought of something. However, any enlightenment is cut off as
"Swinging" Dean Hayes jogs around the corner, papers in hand.]
"Swinging" Dean Hayes : Glad I caught you, I've got the match
assignments for next show.
[He hands Stalker one of the papers, smiling. After staring down at
it for a moment, he looks back up, meeting Dean with an even, cold
stare, causing Hayes smile to fade. He wordlessly passes the paper
to Semi, who reads it as well... then throws up his hands.]
Semi (exasperated) : You gotta be kidding me. OmniFly and
whoever? What, so we can get all the way through a match before he
leaves and claims he beat all three of us while the other guy whines?
[Oblivious to and by the rambling Semi, Stalker still has Hayes
locked in a stare. Slowly, Dean backs up, disappearing around the
corner he came from.]
Semi : Does he really think we're gonna let him go this time after
what he pulled? Hell, I'm half tempted ta grab him, shove him in the
Prohpets' room and lock the door... two birds.
[He looks at the paper again.]
Semi : Opponent of his choosing. [He racks his brain.] Think
Maniac's still dumb enough to go for that. Hell, could be 'law given
the past couple weeks. [He lights up.] That could be kinda fun
actually. Ain't had a proper spar with that boy for while.
[He keeps thinking for a moment, then shrugs.]
Semi : Nope, unless he pulls someone downright nutty out his -- [He
looks at the camera again.] -- rolodex, ain't nobody gonna fall for
that one again. Bully for them, cause I ain't gonna care much for
anyone in my way when I get ahold of Birdboy--
[Semi suddenly looks back at Stalker, who finally turns back from the
direction Hayes ran off in.]
Semi : Aight, you ain't said a dozen words in the past ten
minutes. You goin mute on us again or somethin?
[Stalker cocks his head, a rather odd expression crossing his face.]
Stalker : Maybe.
[And without further preamble, the smaller of the two begins walking
off down the hall. Completely derailed from his train of thought,
Semi stares after his retreating partner.]
Semi : The heck?
[The camera clicks off.]
JB: Urban Legend wants their match with Prophets of Rage, but first
they have tag team competition with a former foe - OmniFly.
FH: Preston told me OmniFly used to be involved with the KGB.
JB: Don't believe it.
------------------------------------
Production video,
Omnifly.
------------------------------------
[The scene opens to the oh-so familiar black background with "Omni"
written across it. Once again sitting in a chair in front of it is The
OmniFly.]
[Omni]: I am growing bored with the PVW. Bored with how they have
elected to utilize the most amazing talent this federation has to
offer. Tag match after tag match after tag match...and yet another tag
match upcoming. Why?
To build up that schmuck Johnny Styles? Outlaw? These are such wastes
of my time...and yet here Omni is, again, having to face Urban Legend
yet again.
[Omni]: How many times does Omni have to do this little song and
dance? How many times does Omni have to have his legacy tainted by
inferior teammates?
I had both RJ Souza and Outlaw beaten last week. They were both done.
One to the pin, one to the submission...just like Omni said he was
going to do. If not for the unnecessary third member of that match,
then Omni would be in the Main Event this week wrestling for a belt
that is just barely more prestigious than the ridiculous tag team
championship.
[Omni]: Let's go back even further. It was not Omni who was pinned a
few weeks ago, but one of those peasant Rage cousins. Omni has never
been beaten, yet his record reflects otherwise. Well this cannot
continue.
[Omni crosses his arms in front of his chest, obstinately.]
[Omni]: This week, I am told that I am to find a partner or I have to
forfeit the match. Like I care. Omni knows already how the match ends
if he finds a partner: said partner screws up and Omni gets another
defeat. Why waste my time? Why waste my energy? I have no problem
forfeiting this worthless match against competition that I could
easily defeat alone. Is there any doubt why I "have" to find a
partner? No...it's because if I didn't, I would embarrass one of Dex's
top tier tag teams alone and prove that his beloved tag division is as
worthless as its champions.
[Omni]: For fun, I called up Rob Cole and asked him to partner with
me. The monster was too drunk, too afraid. He knew he'd be
overshadowed by Omni's greatness and probably lose his undeserved
Heavyweight Title contendership.
I called Chris Hartt but he babbled on and on about having another
match, blah blah blah. These are nothing but excuses. The entire PVW
roster is afraid of what stepping into the ring with Omni will do to
their careers.
They are afraid of being...exposed.
[Omni]: So no, Omni doesn't care about finding a partner. Omni doesn't
care about forfeiting the match. And Omni certainly doesn't care about
a team that he has dominated over and over again like Urban Legend.
This week will, essentially, be a bye week for Omni. I apologize to
the paid attendance in advance.
[Scene fades]
FH: He has a point. OmniFly is one of the most decorated superstars
on the roster, but he is stuck in a situation like this?
JB: OmniFly has history with Urban Legend. It's not PVW's fault
nobody likes him.
------------------------------------
Singles action,
"Hippo" Higgans
-vs-
The Mercenary.
------------------------------------
[The sounds of approaching helicopters comes over the PA system. They
get louder and louder getting almost deafening, and then get quieter,
as if they were passing overhead. Just as they fade away to nothing,
machine gun bursts take their place. A few seconds later, a whistling
sound is heard, and then 4 large explosions rock the arena, one right
after the other. A large smoke screen engulfs the entranceway,
blocking it off from view. Just as the smoke reaches its maximum
density, "Die Hard the Hunter" by Def Leppard comes blasting out
through the sound system.
A figure can then be seen making his way through the smoke. He comes
to the edge of the entrance way, where he can be plainly seen, and
stops to look over the crowd, soaking in their reaction. Getting his
fill, the Mercenary makes his way down to the ring, ignoring the fans
that reach out to him, focused totally on the task at hand. He slowly
climbs the ring steps, and gets into the ring.
And awaiting him, standing in the corner is Hippo Higgans, the wall
decoration from the last Spectre's Sanctum.
The referee calls for the bell, but before it gets rung, 'Soldiers' by
Drowning Pool comes blasting over the PA system, and marching out from
the back is the one and only
Major Damage. MD makes his way down the aisle, waving his flag as he
goes. He gets to the ring, and Merc climbs up to the second rope,
watching as Major Damage continues his march around the ring.]
JB: Looks like the Merc is not taking too kindly to Major Damage
showing up unannounced...
FH: And unwanted. What's he doing down here anyways? Doesn't he
realize that he shouldn't be interfering in other peoples matches?
JB: Oh, and Merc hasn't done that since he got here?
FH: Yeah, well... that's different.
JB: How do you figure that?
FH: Uhm...Oh hey, look at that would ya? While Merc was busy jawing at
Major Damage,
'Hippo' made his way out of the ring and came back in with a chair and
he just crushed Merc over the back of the head with it. Merc has
dropped back down to the mat.
JB: And here comes 'Hippo' again...Ooohh... He just squashed Merc
against the turnbuckle with a HUGE avalanche splash.
FH: And what's the fat boy up to now? Clapping his hands together like
that?
['Hippo' Higgans tries to get the crowd into it, and succeeds by
bringing his hands together repeatedly, arms stuck out at full length.
He then moves in on Merc, still groggy in the corner, and .... ]
JB: CHOMP!!!! Higgan's just nailed that deadly ear-ringer on Merc,
sending the hired gun down to his knees!
FH: And while this has been going on, Major Damage finished his march,
and has made his way back up the ramp... and now he's saluting the
ring.
JB: And now 'Hippo' grabs Merc and goes for the pin...
ONE ...
JB: OHMYGODMERCENARYKICKEDOUTIT'SAMAZING!
FH: Would you settle down... There's no way that fubber-boy would pin
someone like the Merc that quick, and especially not after a move like
the CHOMP.
JB: Fubber-boy?
FH: Yeah, you know... He's like rubber... and fat... so Fubber.
JB: Ugh...Anyways, Merc has made his way back to his feet, and
staggers Higgans with a leaping elbow to the jaw,
FH: (singing) Fubber wobbles, but it won't fall down...
JB: Would you stop it, and just call the match?
FH: Everyone's a critic...
JB: Merc continues going after 'Hippo', landing left after left on the
jaw, driving the bigger man back.. and he just tripped over his own
feet.
FH: Guess I was wrong ... Fubber does fall down.
JB: and he's down on all fours...
FH:...HAHAHA...And now Merc is just laying the boots to him...
Repeatedly kicking Higgans in his fat ass...
JB: Normally that wouldn't be that painful, but Higgans is trying his
damnedest to crawl away.
FH: Well, wouldn't you? Especially after having all of those staples
removed after last week.
[Cut to later in the match, where we see that Merc is laid out, and
'Hippo' is climbing up the ropes]
FH: ... and I gotta say that this has been one of the most bizarre
matches that I've seen in a long time...
JB: Can't say that I disagree there
FH: What with Higgans now in control...all be it, after a fluke move
like that...
JB: Never seen anything like it before...
FH: And Merc's unorthodox attacks. Like how many times do you see
someone focus so much on an opponents buttockial region like that? I
mean, there was chairshots, and boots, and a good old fashioned
whipping with the belt...
JB: And don't forget the spanking...
FH: Actually, I'd prefer if that was never mentioned again... Spanking
should only be done by professionals
JB: At $100 an hour?
FH: More like $150... er, so I've heard... Anyways, Hippo up
top...Looks like he's going for a...a... moonsault?
JB: That what it looks like.... Merc is going to get squashed like a
bug. But that's what he gets for stapling that picture of Bea Arthur
on the 'Hippo' last week.
FH: Aw, c'mon... She was HAWT, and you know it.
JB: Uhmm...No. But it doesn't look like that's going to happen... Merc
back up...
[Merc makes his way to his feet, and sweeps one of Higgans' legs off
the top with his arm, crotching the big man on the turnbuckle.]
FH: And now he's climbing the ropes himself. Merc grabs him around the
waist...
JB: Looks like Merc's going to try to back suplex the behemoth from
the top.
FH: But he's struggling... He can't seem to get all that girth over...
JB: Uh oh... I don't think that's what he's trying to do..
FH: What do you mean? Of course that's what he's trying to do... He's
just tired..
JB: I don't think so... If Merc is attempting to do what I think he's
attempting, you squeamish fans out there should turn away about now.
[But too late... Merc does indeed get the 'Hippo' lifted up, but he
doesn't send the big man to the mat. Oh no... he drops him the
opposite direction, and squarely plants Higgans on top of the
ringpost]
FH: OOOHHH!!! That was just nasty.
JB: Youch... That folks, was the Enema, one of the, if not the most,
horrific maneuvers in all of pro sports.
FH: And 'Hippo' just fell all the way to the floor, clutching
frantically at his ass-cheeks, writhing in pain.
JB: The ref has started the count...
1...2....3...
[Merc drops down to the mat]
4...5...6...
FH: I think this one's over...
JB: Except, he comes Major Damage once again...
[The ref continues his count, and just as he reaches ten, Merc exits
the ring and meets MD halfway down the aisle, rekindling the brawl
that they started last week]
------------------------------------
Production video,
Gibson "Red" Hayes.
------------------------------------
The Battle Hymn of the Republic plays as a waving flag of the United
States of America is seen on the screen. Red and white letters with
blue outlining appear on the screen reading: Gibson Hayes - Patroit,
Pal... Patriot. The music fades and in front of a US flag stands
Gibson Hayes himself. His medium complexion offsetting his very white
smile.
"Hello America. As you know my name is Gibson Hayes."
Gibson adopts a stern expression.
"Normally I would be lauding our great nation and its hardworking
people..."
The fore finger on Gibson's right hand flies up in order to stop this
train of thought.
"...but this last Heatwave I was introduced to the seemly underbelly
of Americana. I'm not talking about illegal immigrants, dirty liberal
abortionists, hippies or people who carry zero debt. No, I am talking
about something far more sinister: referees. Not just your typical
drooling, mouth breathing moron type referees like the ones you find
in the NBA - oh no, not those kind. I am talking about referees who
are out to take your freedom. Referees who are undermining all that is
well and good about this country. Referees who have no sense of fair
play and that set out to subvert or just flat out ignore the rules of
this great sport. Referees who are legally blind and have zero
understanding of the English language, the language that is our mother
tongue."
A large sigh escapes from Gibson as he looks into the camera.
"On the last Heatwave a known criminal was allowed to pervert justice
just like he is trying to pervert your children. The Tucson Kid, with
help from some referee probably named Mikhail
Mohammad-Ihateamericafreedomandapplepie, stole a victory from me, from
America, from you, from the Freedom Eagle, from orphans and, most
importantly, from me!"
Gibson shakes his head in disbelief.
"This horrible referee, who I think was named Abd
al-StalinLeninMaoPolPotHoxha, blatantly ignored that my foot was on
the rope. This villian made a mockery of our sport by overlooking the
fact that my shoulders were clearly not on the mat. This philistine
who's only thoughts are, besides those of how can I screw America's
greatest and most patriotic hero, of ignoring basic wrestling rules
like the fact that it requires a three count to pin a man and the
Tucson Kid, a known arsonist and thief, only received a two count at
best. This referee who has 10735/8734 vision and cannot legally leave
his house thought it would be best to screw Gibson Hayes like the
radical left has been screwing our fair country for centuries. Well
sports fans, patriots and friends, I will not be party to such
tomfoolery. I will not stand for such bigotry. I will not stand for
such, such RACISM! I heard this referee, probably named Jerome
Ihatekindofethinclookingpeople, slur me and my heritage. He and his
"brother" the Tucson Kid had this sort of anti-freedom cheating all
planned out from the start! What, pray tell, what
is next?! Are those two going to attack Pearl Harbor again? Is
Phoenix their new target? I can only assume so with how they screwed
America's only hope!"
Gibson is full on ranting now and breathes deeply, in and out.
"But, as my mentor once told me, always blame St... stupid owners who
allow such shenannigans to go on in their promotions. As of this
moment Gibson Hayes is taking this to the streets! I need you, you
loyal citizens, to picket non-Gibson Hayes PVW shows, non-Gibson Hayes
PVW merchandise, non-Gibson Hayes PVW programs in order to show the
PVW that you are mad as hell and you are not going to be pushed around
by evil hate mongers any longer!"
Falling to one knee, Gibson holds his right hand over his face and
lets out another deep sigh. He wipes his forehead and takes another
deep breath.
"I need your support now, more than ever. I need you, the normally
docile citizen of this country. I need you, the slothful and numbed
patroit to get up off your couch. I need you, the type of person who
watches NASCAR and thinks shooting squirrels should be an Olympic
sport. I need you, the people who have a memorial to good ole number 3
right next to their double barrel shotgun and picture of weeping
Jesus. I need you folks to send me money to continue my crusade for
the good of America. I need you to help me bolt up from merely a
private Nuisance to PVW and become a General Nusiance to PVW."
Gibson looks into the camera one last time.
"Please, won't you give to help stop commies like the Tucson Kid and
his evil referee partners in crime from destroying our nation... for
the children!"
A post office box and "suggested" donation sizes flash on the screen
over a photo of Gibson Hayes saluting the Statute of Liberty.
[Fade back to the booth]
JB: What was that?
FH: You have to admit he is right.
JB: If you say so, but Hayes has a match.
FH: Against The Kid?
JB: No Jason Dynamite. Let's cut ot the ring.
------------------------------------
Singles Action,
Gibson "Red" Hayes v.
------------------------------------
Cut away to Gibson and his entourage fighting outside the ring while
some new local kid, anxiously waiting for his match, eggs Gibson on
from inside the ring.
Gibson furiously shakes his head, pointing the referee. Finally, all
of Gibson's entourage just throw their hands up, except one in a big
hooded robe, as Gibson simply makes a dismissive gesture and makes his
way to the back shouting: "No Justice, No Wrestling!"
[Cut to the ring where Jason Dynamite and Gibson "Red" Hayes are
already inside the ring. Referee Duke Martin is running down the
rules.]
FH: Watch and learn here Jack. Gibson Hayes is a masterpiece inside
that ring.
JB: Jason Dynamite isn't a scrub himself. He had a very sucuessful
career in Japan before running into a string of injuries.
FH: He isn't on Gibson Hayes level.
*** DING DING ***
[The bell is sounded and Hayes isn't wasting any time. Hayes charges
in with punches, elbows, and knees.... Hayes quickly overwelms his
opponent and takes him down with a Snap Mare. He follows up with a
chinlock.]
FH: Now this is how you do it. Waste no time and inflict as much
punishment as you can. I like this cat!
JB: Gibson Hayes is about as tough as they come. He lost a very close
match with the Tuscon Kid on HeatWave and you can bet he isn't going
to get upset like that again.
FH: Not tonight.
[Hayes drops the chinlock and backs up and charges in with a low
dropkick right to the midback of the sitting Jason Dynamite. Gibson
Hayes sits ontop of Dynamite and begins choking him with both hands.]
JB: Hayes is choking the life out of him!
One ...
Two ...
Three ...
Four ...
FH: Don't worry he knows what he is doing.
[Hayes drops the hold and gets into referee Duke Martin's face.
Dynamite with a backslide from behind!]
JB: Does he?
FH: Maybe not.
ONE ...
TWO ...
FH: Kick Out. I told you he did.
[Hayes quickly up and charging in again, but Dynamite with an armdrag
take down... He stands holding that armbar on, but Hayes counters out
and an armbar of his own. He backs Dynamite up into the ropes and goes
to send him across, but Dynamite counters it and sends Hayes across...
Hayes rebounds and Shoulder block.]
JB: A few counters, but Hayes with a shoulder block that sends
Dynamite right back down to the mat.
[He pulls Dynamite up and locks him for a suplex... A slingshot
suplex!]
FH: Bounced Check!
JB: Hayes isn't going for the cover. He grabs the right leg and looks
like he is going to lock the figure four leg lock on, but he stops and
shakes his head no and turns and just PUNTS Dynamite in the family
jewels!!!
FH: OUUUUUCH!!! NASTY!!! I LIKE IT!
[Duke Martin has nearly had enough he warns Gibson Hayes that he is on
his final warning. Hayes blows him off and pulls Dynamite to his feet.
He pulls the wounded Jason Dynamite up and he hooks and delivers a
snap cradle suplex looking to put Dynamite out of his misery.]
FH: RED LINE!!!
ONE ...
TWO ...
THREE !!!
*** DING DING ***
FH: I told you this guy was a bad ass.
JB: Yes you told us.
[Hayes raises to his feet and as Duke Martin goes to raise his hand,
he rips it away from him and raises his own hand.]
------------------------------------
Production video,
The Spectre.
------------------------------------
"Disappointing"
[The scene opens on The Spectre, standing alone in the center of an
empty ring in a vacant arena. Row upon row of empty seats bear silent
vigil to the pale wrestler as he stalks around the ring like a caged
animal. The dreadlocked Goth walks around in circles, hands shoved
deep into the pockets of his tattered black trench-coat as his booted
feet pace steadily around squared circle.]
"There's no other word for it, Friend Cole...we are very disappointed
in you. We told you what was expected of you. Bring out the Monster
Under the Bed. Show the people in Phoenix what it means when the
Outcast runs amok. Horrify them. Give them something to tell their
children to frighten them when they misbehave. Show them that you are
still the legend that we recall from days gone by."
[Spectre's brow knits, anger showing on the madman's features as his
pace quickens along with his speech.]
"And what should show up to meet us in that ring? A joke. That was
no Monster Under the Bed. That was a joke. Amateur wrestling? At
first we thought you were joking...instead it was almost immediately
evident that you were just a joke...a joke that quickly became tragic
when you arrived in OUR Sanctum barely upright. You promised us that
you would frighten us, we had assumed you'd meant in the ring, not as
a cautionary tale about overstaying your career."
[Spectre stops his stalking, his pale blue eyes boring into the
camera, his features contorted with barely controlled rage.]
"We came in search of a legendary confrontation, and we WILL have our
battle, Friend Cole. We want Rob Cole. The Outcast. The Monster
Under the Bed. We NEED you to be what you are...because we promise
you this: If you cannot give us the satisfaction we require of you,
then we will find it elsewhere...be it from the screams of your childr
upon seeing what we do to you, the sobs of your wife when she visits
you in the hospital and can barely recognize you as you lie in your
bed...or the terror coming from you knowing that there's nothing
stopping us from waiting in the parking lot and paying your family a
visit of our own. Picture in your mind's eye your son in the loving
embrace of Destiny's Grip, his face turning first red, then blue as
the life is choked from him...your wife feeling the agony of a
Rebirth, her limp body lying in a slowly spreading pool of her own
fluids.
Their baptisms in pain will be a testament to YOUR failure, Friend
Cole. Before we were content to let you go upon your way and claim the
bauble from around the waist of our unworthy champion...no longer.
You have sullied your legacy, and by extension all that we respected
within you. You have disappointed us, and we DO NOT take
disappointment lightly.
You will earn back our respect, Friend Cole...you will earn it back or
your family will suffer the consequences."
[The camera zooms in tightly on The Spectre, the ghoulish grappler's
eyes are narrowed into dangerous slits.]
"Hiding in the bottle will do nothing to help stop us. And now we will
see how clearly the Monster Under the Bed will Fear the Dark."
[fade out.]
JB: Spectre just made this personal.
FH: Cole is probably too drunk to understand.
JB: You can say a lot of things to Rob Cole, but once you bring his
family into things...
FH: Does he even have a family?
JB: I've heard Rob Cole is a dedicated father.
FH: Could you imagine Rob Cole reading you a bed time story before
you go to bed?
JB: I'm sure he does just fine.
FH: Freaky.
------------------------------------
Production video,
The Royal Family.
------------------------------------
[the camera opens on The Royal Family in Carl's large office filled
with antique office furniture and large bookshelves taken up entire
walls that are lined with noticably old books. "Rolemodel" Paul Styles
sits in a large chair wearing a sweater-vest and small glasses as
usual. He has both PVW tag titles, one over his shoulder and the other
sitting his lap. Carl is dressed in his professional looking suit and
stands off to the right. Johnathan Monarch, in a dress shirt, sits in
the background at Carl's desk reading the paper. It's unusually quiet
and seems tenser than normal]
PS: Before we even begin... lets congratulations Caleb Foley, Outlaw,
and even Brian Young. It took four months, six matches, three
opponents, a last minute replacement, some lame guest commentators,
and me not being involved in the decision... that was all it took for
someone to finally beat "Rolemodel" Paul Styles. All three of you
accomplished something you'll be talking about for the rest of your
otherwise boring careers when you did the impossible and got a win
over The Royal Family.
[all three men cooly applaud as they glare unpleasantly into the
camera]
PS: But a great moment is just that, a moment! The excitement is over
and we're back to business as usual... The Royal Family defending
championships while Brian Young competes in the Heritage title
division. And let me just say this about Brian before I let him fade
away into the midcard... I called it two weeks ago when I said
Brian Young didn't belong in the ring with me. Brian had his
predictable response, saying he was a big deal, main evented all over
the world, wrestled big superstars, on and on and on... But it's a
pretty big coincidence that the fluke win earned his partners a long-
shot title chance while Brian is wrestling Major Damage who is a major
non-factor.
JM: I never liked that guy.
PS: Nobody likes Brian Young! Since he's arrived he's acted like PVW
owes him something. What do guys like Chris Hartt or Major Damage feel
when Brian Young's first match was in a main event? What did The New
Breed feel when they have to fight for a roster spot while Brian Young
signs on at the same time and gets to guest commentate a PVW title
match? What did any of us think when Brian Young walked in the door
and acted like he belongs in the ring with PVW name athletes like The
Royal Family, Chase Williams, Caleb Foley, Chris Hartt, even Outlaw?
The men that built PVW up from nothing but an idea on paper... but
Brian Young is The One who...
[Paul pauses and reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small piece
of paper. Paul's familiar Text Graphic fades in as he reads it]
GRAPHIC: "the one who electrifies the crowd, carries promotions to new
levels and new heights, I put asses in the seats and I cause champions
to worry" Brian Young - PVW Heatwave May 14, 2008
PS: You're a real class act, Brian. Lets see what kind of new heights
you can lead us all to with Major Damage.
[the graphic fades out]
JM: Brian Young really does put asses in the seats... whenever he
shows up everyone sits down.
[Johnathan smiles as his lame joke while Paul sighs as Carl shakes his
head]
CS: [to Paul] Just... talk about Foley.
PS: Talk about "The Fighting Irishteen" Caleb Foley? We can't even
expect Foley to focus on the match this close to his senior prom! How
will a guy still going through puberty deal with losing two title
matches in a month? Are you prepared to realize you can't win this
title either, Caleb? You had the main event of Ashes and you
couldn't deliver. Do you think beating The Royal Family for a
championship will be easier? Do you think being friends with an idiot
like Outlaw will help? Or friends with The Dragon Kid? Masked Maniac?
Brian Young?
CS: Brian is desperate, he just wants Foley's roster spot.
PS: Foley's problems can't be solved with his nerdy friends anyway.
Foley's -REAL- problem is he was chosen by PVW and hyped to the
moon... and until he got lucky last week he's been a complete failure.
Chase Williams proved a main event is no place for an awkward
teenager... The Royal Family are going to prove a title match is no
place for an awkward teenager... or a dim-witted swearing idiot for
that matter.
[Paul looks to become irritated]
PS: That was the worst part of last week... we lost to [bleep]'in
Outlaw! The first important match that guy wins in ten years and it's
against us... [bleep]'in figures.
[Johnathan doesn't even look up from his paper]
JM: [bleep] that.
CS: But it wont [bleep]'in ever happen again especially on [bleep]'in
Heatwave next [bleep]'in week! I don't [bleep]'in care if it's
[bleep]'in Outlaw or his mother [bleep]'in poorly dress alter
[bleep]'in ego Bobbie Cole. The Royal Family will never, [bleep]'in
ever lose to that [bleep]hole again. -NEVER-!
[both Paul and Johnathan sit silently surprised at Carl's output,
since he normally never swears. Carl got so worked up he's beginning
to sweat and looks completely flustered and out of breath as he looks
around and casually walks out of the camera frame to the right]
PS: [to Carl beyond the camera] What's the matter with you?
CS: [off camera] I hate the [bleep]'in guy.
PS: Well you don't have to worry about it because this time neither
Outlaw or Bobbie Cole will be able to get themselves lost in the chaos
of a six man tag match. PVW is led by it's champions and that's why
it's impossible for Outlaw to have ever been a world champion before
or become one today... he's not a leader... or intelligent,
articulate, competent, or interesting. All qualities that a champion
has to have, all qualities Outlaw is lacking and has never shown an
interest in learning. As soon as we need to crown a champion of
dressing up and playing make believe then, and only then, will Outlaw
be a deserving champion.
[Carl walks back into the frame drinking a bottle of water. He's
loosened his tie and his hair is messed up a little but seems as
relaxed as ever]
PS: [to Carl] You going to be alright?
CS: [takes a drink from his water] ... Yeah.
PS: My last minute advice to Foley and Outlaw? ... ... Take Rob's cue
and take up drinking so you can avoid losing your match.
[begins to fade]
JM: [still doesn't look up from his paper] I still want my Heritage
title match.
[black]
JB: We heard earlier from Outlaw and Foley... Now we have heard from
the PVW Tag Team Champions.
FH: The cream of the crop right there. Couldn't have laid it out any
better.
JB: It's going to be a war.
FH: I wonder if Outlaw will even remember to walk to the ring this
time. And when is Johnathan Monarch going to get his Heritage Title
Shot?
JB: Who knows, but Chris Hartt and RJ Souza are set to finish their
war in the Main Event on HeatWave!
------------------------------------
Remote feed,
"Bad Karma" RJ Souza.
------------------------------------
[The Mega Agent, Paul Sandler, is busy at his desk when a buzz
interupts his train of thought....]
Paul Sandler: I said I was not to be disturbed, Gaby??
Gaby: Mr Souza is here to see you.
Paul Sandler: I'm Sorry, Gaby. Tell Him I am out to lunch please....
[Too Late! RJ has kicked the door in on his manager's office. He is
dressed in black shorts, black boot and wearing black Ray-Bans. His
black shirt reads "Stoopid Monkey!!" ]
RJ Souza: Out to lunch??
Paul Sandler: No, what I mean tot say to Gaby was to send for lunch. I
would never miss a meeting with my star client. You should see how....
RJ Souza: (Very Angry) Cut the (bleeping) crap, Paul!! You promised
me money, commercials and the fame to build my rpeutation on. What
have I got for my efforts?? My wife in a hospital bed, I lost my best
friend in the business and I am a (bleeping) laughing stock. You tell
me how do we fix this??
Paul Sandler: (Nervousy) I am already on that. You see I got....
RJ Souza: You got JACK!!! I think Chris Hartt was on to something
last week. Maybe I am just being that puppet. I do your dirty work and
you collect your 10%. You like ruining my life for that chunk of
change?? My family is in chambles. My professional life is down the
tubes. I got friends in other federations laughing at me.
Paul Sandler: (Gets out of his chair and tries to stand up to RJ) You
still have to face Chris Hartt this comming week. Now, are you going
to finish the job and become a champion??
RJ Souza: I told everyone last week, even if "Fabulous" doesn't
believe it. I never wanted his title. I don't care about the belt.
Belts just holds my pants up. The honor and respect I carry from one
match to the next is what I want. When I go into a match, my opponent
should know if they get past me, they deserve that same repect and
honor. YOU STOLE THAT FROM ME, PAUL!!!
Paul Sandler: (Begging) Look, RJ. We can make that happen. Just give
me one more chance to make it up to you.
RJ Souza: (Backs up, almost shocked..then) You want another chance??
This is what you need to do. You meet me in the ring at the begining
of Heatwave. I need to prove a point to everyone that follows PVW. You
don't show up, I got a Karma Kick that will make you brain damaged
little PUNK!! WE CLEAR???
Paul Sandler: Crystal!!
RJ Souza: DONT MAKE ME ANGRY, PAUL!!!
[RJ leaves the office. Paul buzzes the front desk of his secretary]
Paul Sandler: Gaby, get me a fresh pair of pants and order me a new
chair please??
[Meanwhile, outside of the office, down the hall, PVW's Man in Black
walks away into the lobby of the offices of the Mega Agent. The Batman
quickly makes his way outside to his sandblasted black Dodge Charger.]
RJ Souza: Let's make a few things clear. I don't think Chris Hartt and
I are going to be friends after this. I done too many things to ever
make it back down that road. I have to know who is the better man,
Chris. I need to know that despite everything that we done..... I am
better.
[RJ opens the door on the driver's side.]
RJ Souza: Did you make a play for my wife? I don't know anymore,
Chris. I am almost to the point where I don't care. I seen all the
interviews. I wanted to punch out that Blackstone when she brought it
up again We have history, both good and bad. I want you to watch the
begining of Heatwave next week. I want you to watch how I handle Paul
Sandler next week. I want you to see a new side of me Chris. I want
the world to know where I stand in all the madness that we have waged
upon each other.
RJ Souza: It just might be time for RJ Souza to turn the other cheek.
[RJ gets into his car. He starts the engine and peels away. His
Arizona plates reads "Rev 6 17"]
FH: Chris Hartt is in some trouble.
JB: There will be a lot of emotion from both men. At Rise From the
Ashes there wasn't a winner... On HeatWave there will be.
FH: I'm getting through my headset it's time to hear from the
Champion. Everyone get your popcorn and sit in front of the TV. When
the Champ speaks we listen!
------------------------------------
Production video,
"Conceited Bastard" Chase Williams.
------------------------------------
[The flames slowly lick at the edges of the Photograph. It looks
recent, one person in particular looking familiar, that being Caleb
Foley, standing smiling between what one would assume are his mother
and sister. The flame slowly eats the photograph, and his sister is
gone.]
"The first thought himself the better man. Felt that he was more
virtuous, and in turn, more worthy than myself to be the flag bearer
for Phoenix Valley Wrestling. He proved a worthy adversary, I cannot
deny this... However in the end, what everyone believed inevitable,
proved as such.
[The remains of the first photograph blow away in the slight breeze]
"To hear him tell the story I was lucky to beat him. Watch the match
and you'll see otherwise. You'll see him crying like a baby in front
of his entire family, as I tapped him out in the center of the ring.
Does that sound like luck to you?"
[Another photo, this of a smiling Rob Cole, his wife Ylanna, and their
infant son. The flames begin in the bottom left corner, working their
way upwards and towards the middle.]
"The would be second fancies himself the infallible. Threatens my
family and friends as if he knows who they are, as if I even have any.
This guys so far up his own ass he can see the back of his teeth.
Before you open your mouth and speak my name again scrub, do some
homework. Do some [beeping] research for christs sake. You can throw
around all the threats you want Robbie, but the fact of the matter is
that you will _not_ be the guy that takes my title from me. I'll hurt
you in ways you didn't know you could be hurt, and thats a promise. I
suggest you take your own advice Rob. When you tuck that little boy
you're not even sure is yours into bed tonight, thank god that you're
able to do such a simple but pleasureable thing. Then pray to the same
god that I don't take that ability away for no other reason than
you've treated me like some new kid on the block. Like I haven't
broken as Many bones, or spilled as much blood as the Monster under
the bed. Heh, You're in for a rude awakening if you end up on the
other side of the ring from me again Outcast... and I'm not talking
about some six man tag [beep] you can drink Your way out of. its just
gonna be you and me, and then we'll finally see who the _real_ threat
is once and for all."
[The second photograph has been all but consumed by the flames and the
ashes that remain are blown away, same as the first. Three more
photographs, Brian Young, Major Damage, and the Spectre, land in the
picture and are soon going the way of the latter two.]
"More Would be pretenders to my throne. Three more that find me
lacking in championship qualities and feel that they would better
represent Phoenix Valley Wrestling as its champion. Brian Young crawls
out from under a rock and suddenly hes a contender for my title? its a
Freaking joke. Then you've got Major Damage and The Spectre acting
like I should be afraid of them simply because they've been able to
intimidate everyone else with their bull[beep]."
[The three Photographs Dissipate and the camera FInally pulls back,
revealing Chase Williams standing over the glowing embers of a dying
fire.]
"I still Don't know who its going to be but in the end it doesn't
really matter does it? Like the flame with the photos, when the smoke
clears, all thats will that will be left of your hero's will be ashes,
courtesy of _your_ champion. Whether they want to believe it or not,
when their time comes they will be dealt with accordingly. Theres a
reason I"m the champion, and they _wish_ they where the champion."
"I'm a winner and my opponents just _think_ they are..."
[Fade]
------------------------------------
Production video,
"The Paladin" Chris Hartt.
------------------------------------
[Cut to a recent showing of Good Morning Phoenix already underway with
hosts Scott Pasmore and Tara Hitchcock. They sit on the set at the
interview couches.]
SP: Welcome back, folks. Today, we have a real treat for you all
today!
TH: I hope you guys are ready for some real muscle and some sex
appeal. We have one of the hottest stars of the newest local
wrestling promotion that's really made a huge buzz about town.
SP: I know! My kids can't stop talking about it! We have with us
today, not only one of the wrestlers from the Phoenix Valley Wrestling
organization, but we have none other than the Rising Heritage
Champion, 'The Paladin' Chris Hartt! Let's give him a big welcome!
[People cheer as Hartt walks out from backstage, dressed in nice dress
clothes, and carries his title belt over his shoulder. He shakes
hands with the hosts, allows Tara to hold the belt as he waves to the
excited crowd. All three of them sit down together on the L-shaped
couch.]
SP: Thanks for joining us, Chris. Tell us all a little bit about
yourself.
Hartt: Well, I'm from Minneapoils, Minnesota. I've watched wrestling
since I was a kid, but when I was a teen, I ran with some punk kids
who did some really troublesome stuff. I almost went down with them
for some serious stuff, but I managed to be cleared of the trouble and
dedicated my life to wrestling after that. I studied it hard. All
day, every day. I worked like a dog to hone my skills and got picked
up really quickly. I joined a federation and went far, but I just
wasn't ready for such a big spot like that. It fell apart on me
pretty quick and I spent a year overseas, wrestling in Japan.
That REALLY opened my eyes to new styles of technical wrestling.
After that year, I got a call to come to Phoenix and took it. I'm
really glad I did.
TH: What's it like to be part of such a hot new federation?
Hartt: It's thrilling to see the impact we're having. There's so
many promotions, big and small, all over the country, but we're
getting noticed and moving up the ladder.
TH: And you're also moving up, as well. You fought hard to hold this
title, didn't you?
Hartt: Absolutely. It was a long and hard-fought battle. The whole
roster really took each other to task to gain a chance to hold this
title. I was the one who was able to last the longest and be the best
at my game. With every match, I try to improve myself and use the best
of my wrestling skills.
SP: We've read that you're involved in a feud with a former friend of
yours! He's accused you of adultery with his wife and has attacked
not only you, but his wife, as well.
Hartt: Yeah, well, that hit on her was meant for me. She just
happened to get in the way. RJ Souza's been listening to the wrong
voice all this time
He's got this manager-friend-whatever, Paul Sandler, and this guy's
got RJ so twisted around, neither of them knows which way is up.
[A video clip of Sandler and Hartt exchanging barbs in the ring, then
RJ slides in and nails Hartt from behind.]
TH: And now, this week, you're facing RJ Souza again?
Hartt: Thats' right. He and I are going head to head and will tear
each other apart one more time, all to prove who's better than who.
SP: Sounds like it's gonna be a blowout!
Hartt: I'm definitely ready and am gonna give this match my full
attention. Every bit of my A-Game's in on this one.
SP: Well, you can all check out this match next Thursday on this
local station! Thank you for coming, Chris.
Hartt: Pleasure to be here.
[Hartt stands, shakes hands with Scott, kisses Tara's cheek, then
reclaims his belt, as he makes his way off-stage.]
JB: From one Champion to another..
FH: Not for long.
------------------------------------
Production video,
???.
------------------------------------
-- a small motel room --
-- the phone rings, its blinking red light strobing along --
-- the six-dollar alarm clock reads 1:45 AM --
-- a hand reaches across, lifting the receiver and pulling the handset
out of view --
Voice: "It'd better be good if you're calling this late."
...
Voice: "I don't care if it's earlier there, have some decency, man."
...
Voice: "Yeah, it's been a while, but you didn't call at damn near two
to reminisce. Get to the point, if you could."
...
...
Voice: "Nothin' we couldn't walk away from."
...
Voice: "Yeah. We'll book the flights and be down there in time.
Thanks for thinking of us."
...
Voice: "You too, man, you too."
-- the hand hangs up the receiver, and then bangs on the wall behind
the bedside table --
BANG BANG BANG
-- a voice from the other side of the thin wall calls out, high-
pitched and confused --
Voice2: What the hell, Mark?
Voice1: Good news, Nicky... we're going to Phoenix.
-- ftb --
JB: Who are those guys?
FH: I don't know, but I think I'll like them.
JB: How do you know?
FH: They didn't seem lame like The Wild Cards.
JB: Say What?
FH: Or this Kid combo coming up next.
------------------------------------
Production video,
The Tucson Kid and the Dragon Kid.
------------------------------------
[We cut to the backstage area of the 52nd St Armory to see The Dragon
Kid walking down a hallway. He passes several members of the ring crew
to which he bows slightly with his hands in front of him as a show of
respect. He keeps walking until he sees The Tucson Kid who is already
in his ring attire. He approaches his partner for the night and taps
him on the shoulder.
Tucson had just donned his beige leather poncho, and was about to tie
his bandana on, when he whirls around at the contact. His fist is
clenched, as if anticipating the possibility of an attack... but when
he sees that it's his partner, his fist unclenches, and a smile comes
across his face, encapsulated by his thin, neatly-groomed goatee. The
wild-eyed newcomer bows to the Dragon Kid, as he knows enough to at
least do that.]
DK: It's a no yorokobi. watashi ha watashi tachi ga konya issho ni
yoku suru koto o shitte iru.
TK: Hrmm.
[Tucson's expression turns thoughtful. He clearly doesn't understand
Japanese. And the Masked Maniac is nowhere in sight. Fortunately(?),
there is someone here to help. A man in a nice grey suit enters, and
steps between the Kids.]
Man: Hi, I'm Andrew Stevenson. I'm assigned to translate for the
Dragon Kid. My brother Carl got the office in contact with me after
they signed for you two the team.
[He turns to the Dragon Kid, who clearly has not seen this man
before.]
MS: konnichiha. watashi no namae ha Andrew Stevenson de ari, watashi
ha yuugata no anata no yakusha de aru.
[The Dragon Kid nods and then bows to Mr. Stevenson]
DK: no Stevenson shi au yorokobi. sore ha shitagatte saishuu teki ni
itsuwari naku gengo o shitte iru dare ka ni hanasu koto yoi aru.
[Andrew nods as The Dragon Kid continues]
DK: watashi ga kare no yoko de konya hatarai te hijou ni ureshii you
niwatashi no paatonaa ni ii nasai. watashi Prophets of Rage katai
chiimuha tashika ni de aru mono nitaishite kare ga ringu no ooini
shinrai dekiru yuujin soshite doumei koku de aru koto o shinrai suru.
[Stevenson turns to the Tucson Kid and translates]
MS: He doesn't understand why they think I need a tag partner,
especially rookies. He mentioned having to carry Wherewithal Eric
Williams as a partner, and believes it's going to be much of the same.
He is having difficulty respecting you, but will help you out by
winning your match.
Hopefully the Prophets of Rage will put him out of his misery, and
will take all the glory when he defeats them both by himself."
[Tucson eyes Stevenson warily who doesn't even crack a smile, slowly
moves his gaze over to the Dragon Kid. He looks back at Stevenson.]
TK: You _sure_ that's what he said? He don't really have the body
language I'd expect from someone who'd say something that cocky, that
blatantly, right in front of a man. And it don't fit in with what I
already know.
AS: You calling me a liar? I'll have you know I used to be a
translator for the United Nations in five different languages. I'm a
professional.
TK: I'll have you know I only use one language to deal with liars.
Body language.
[Tucson clenches a fist, and gives Andrew a nice long look at it.]
TK: Please tell the Dragon Kid that I am happy to be teaming with him.
[His tone seems to indicate that this is more of a dare than a
request.]
AS: kare ha "o itta, masuku o motsu kono baka o mi nasai. watashi ha
kare gashita no you ni mieru soko ni mo no gimon ni omou. watashi ha
kare nitokage face." ga aru koto o kake ta.
[The Dragon Kid puffs his chest out]
DK: baka ka. tokage no hyoumen ka. nani ka.
AS: He was insulted with the term "happy", instead feeling you should
be honored to be his partner, to be on his team. He worked in a
comparison about The Emperor eating with the peasants as well.
[Tucson thinks about this for a moment, and comes up with an idea. He
looks directly at the Dragon Kid, and points at Andrew.]
TK: Stevenson!
[Dragon Kid takes a step closer and looks right at Andrew Stevenson]
DK: Stevenson!
[Dragon Kid puts a hand roughly on Andrew's shoulder and with his
other hand, he points down the hallway]
DK: watashi ha watashi ga sore o miru toki atta to odate kare ga nara
nakatta, ensei o shitte iru mono o watashi ga kii ta iwa nakere ba
koto kaaru Stevenson o iu koto o teian shi.
[Andrew Stevenson takes a step back and continues to walk backwards
away from the two wrestlers Tucson turns from Stevenson, and looks at
the Dragon Kid again. He makes an effort to communicate the easy way.]
TK: Prophets Of Rage...
[He slams his fist into his hand, and then points at Stevenson. And he
uses the one slanderous Japanese word he remembers from watching
dubbed puro.]
TK: Baka!
[Tucson spits on the floor, and makes a "get the hell out" dismissive
hand gesture at the interpreter. His feelings about Andrew Stevenson
are thusly expressed. The Dragon Kid looks at Tucson Kid and nods.]
DK: Prophets of Rage...
[DK throws hands up in air and brings them down across his knee which
he raised up]
DK: GO...TO...SLEEP!
[Tucson nods. He reaches into his bag, and pulls out a manila file. It
has "TO TUCSON, PROPHETS OF RAGE SCOUTING, FROM D.H." scrawled on it
in red marker. He pulls it open, to reveal some discs, some papers,
and some photos. As he does, he looks across the room at a retreating
Stevenson.]
TK: I don't speak Japanese, but I do share one language with this man.
The language of wrestling. It's a language that a pencil-neck like you
would never understand, and your brother doesn't speak it either...
because it doesn't come from the lips, it comes from the heart! You
let me know when you get one of those.
[Tucson extracts a sheet that shows some of the Prophets key
maneuvers, and points it out to Dragon who nods some more and slaps
Tucson Kid on the chest hard from excitement]
DK: Prophets of Rage - I tachiba koko ni oyobi uso ha watashi no saigo
nomacchi ni mataha Johnny Dylan you ni kidon de iru atta. iie, I
shoujiki sha, ten oyobi kyousou nitsuite no m kanzen ni. soshite
watashi ha anata kara no onaji no ikutsu ka o 2 kitai suru.
[Tucson notices the camera now. So he does what every wrestler does
when they see a camera. Posture!]
TK: Shadoe, Derek... you seem to have all of the advantages.
Experience, brotherhood, size, and viciousness. The Dragon Kid and I
can't even verbally communicate. But the difference between people
like you, and people like us?
To you, those sound like excuses.
To us, that sounds like _inspiration_.
We will be in that ring tonight with bells on. We will be in your face
from the beginning until the end. And we will make you know you were
in a damn fight. Carl Stevenson tried to break us up, and that's
unfortunate.
For you.
Because all he did was piss us off, wind us up, and send us on down to
the ring with a _mission_. The New Breed will not be used,
manipulated, or toyed with. And that message will be delivered...
right across your face.
Be sure and thank Carl personally when you get the chance.
[The Dragon Kid turns to the camera and does the same gesture from
before.]
DK: GO...TO...SLEEP!
[fade out]
------------------------------------
Backstage segment,
Major Damage.
------------------------------------
[Cut to show the backstage area of the armory. Carrying a huge duffel
that might have come straight from an Army footlocker, Major Damage,
still in in his full bodysuit and gas mask, walks away from the
camera. He's getting closer, however, as both the camera, and a man
appearing in frame on the left follow the Major.]
Hayes: Major! Major Damage!
[Stopping in his tracks, the Major turns his head back towards the
sound of that voice. Yes, it's the most overworked man in PVW;
"Swingin'" Dean Hayes. Extending a microphone, Hayes, for some
reason, willingly attempts to engage the military man monster in a
conversation.]
Hayes: Major, a few questions, please!
MD: What do you want now, Civvie? Critical as you were last time, it
doesn't seem like I should be speaking to the press again concerning
my operations.
[Stopping, huffing, puffing, Hayes stops. It's not clear why he's
winded, so let's just assume right now that Hayes was running before
the cut backstage. With a quizzical look, he continues on with the
interview.]
Hayes: Major, it seems that the tables have been turned on you as of
late. The Spectre attempted to interview you and your adversary, the
Mercenary, but the attempt backfired--
MD: Got a point, civvie?
Hayes: Yes. The interview turned into a two-on-one attack against
you. What comments do you want to make on these events?
[Turning full towards Hayes, Damage lets the bag drop from his
shoulder.]
MD: Hm. Asking a serving officer his thoughts about an ongoing war?
Novel concept.
[Turning toward the camera, Damage engages the viewer directly. All
that's missing now is a dropcloth in the background that reads "PVW".]
MD: The Mercenary ranks among the filthiest scum ever to don camo.
His name alone galls me. I don't know much about the man, but one
thing I do know is that he doesn't act without a reason. The fact is
that, even if he has a contract with PVW, he wouldn't say word one,
wouldn't risk my ire unless he had a contract ... on me...
Hayes: But what about Spectre? He joined Mercenary in attacking you.
MD: What of him? He is as the chaos of the battlefield. We
understand each other in a way. I would gladly engage him if he were
not already occupied, but the green recruit Foley has his attention.
[Some emphasis on the word "green" there indicates that perhaps Damage
is making a pun. Hayes continues undaunted.]
Hayes: And what about Foley, for that matter? You put him through
hell one week, and he saves you the next.
MD: Saves? SAVES!?
[Suddenly, in spite of the fact that his entire form is concealed,
including his face, the Major begins to visibly seethe with rage.]
MD: You're right, I did put that boy through hell. He acquitted
himself very well, passing basic training, if you will, but do not
confuse combat for contempt! Obviously, he understands that, but does
not understand that this man's army is an army of one! Had I been
given mere seconds to rebound, I assume that the enemy forces would
have been routed. Given the opportunity, I'll prove it, prove myself
yet again, for apparently in spite of everything I've done in the
Phoenix Valley, there are those that doubt the might of this man's
army.
[Nodding, strangely calm, Hayes' brows crease in a quizzical
expression.]
MD: You're awfully calm for a civilian reporter in a war zone, Hayes.
You sure that's wise?
[Pausing, pensive, Hayes nods slowly, and replies while carefully
maintaining eye (lens) contact with Damage.]
Hayes: You didn't kill me when I called you out on Johnny Oakes, and
anyway ... it's my job.
[Relaxing, the Major stands up straight as a rod, and cocks his head
to one side.]
Hayes: There was one other thing, Major... You said yourself that the
Mercenary must have been paid to come after you, and I think he
himself said as much. Who do you think is paying him?
[In true Darth Vader fashion, Damage breathes deep, in and out, Damage
adjusts one glove and the LED "eyes" of his gas mask flare to life.]
MD: Marley...
[Blinking, perhaps shocked at the unusually pointed bluntness of
Damage, Hayes actually shakes his head and stares at Damage with an
expression of confusion.]
Hayes: Marley?
[Snapping his head towards the camera, and then back to Hayes, Damage
shouts--]
MD: MARLEY!
[Snatching up his Duffel, Damage storms off, nearly shoulder checking
Hayes, who sidesteps to avoid him. Heading down the hall at the pace
of a hard march, Damage quickly rounds the corner, disappearing.]
Hayes: Damn...
[Dropping his microphone hand to his side, Hayes shakes his head and
makes a "cut" motion to the cameraman. End.]
JB: We have seen three matches and tons of footage of PVW superstars.
We are running out of time so we are going to bring you footage of the
six men involved in our Main Event and end the show off right.
FH: With The Wild Cards and Grissom eating the bottom of Livestock and
The Gutch's boots!
------------------------------------
Remote feed,
Livestock and the Gutch.
------------------------------------
[Cut to a prerecorded segment depicting the backstage area of the
Armory. Livestock and the Gutch walking along with Cindy "Bar Bitch"
Hewitt. Everybody's sweaty, and as a matter of fact, Livestock has
stripped bare to the waist. Why the man wrestles in a dress shirt is
a mystery, considering he's got the body not of a wrestler, but a male
model. No scars, no tattoos, just smooth tanned skin. Hewitt's
taking a wet nap to her whoreish makeup while squirming out of her
mini dress.
Don't worry folks, she's wearing a black singlet with the letters
"BBH" across the chest. Still PG rated at worst.
Meanwhile, big fat Gutch is somehow not that bothered by the
heat, and has actually put his suit jacket back on after they
left the ring. Suddenly "Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap" by AC/DC
plays somewhere. Gutch reaches inside his jacket.]
Livestock: Is that your phone?
Gutch: Uh, yeah. It's the thingie I put on there for when Zeke calls.
[Flipping the phone open, Gutch speaks.]
Gutch: Hey boss. Yeah, we just like, had our match. Cool, eh? You
saw it, right?
[Pause for effect. Hey, what do you expect? He's on the phone!]
Gutch: Eh, uh, don't get so hot under the collar.
[Another pause. Livestock looks at Gutch, quizzically.]
Gutch: He says the show ain't live. Okay, boss, I hear ya, but
listen! We won!
[A muffled shout is heard from the phone. It sounds almost ... happy.
Gutch takes the phone away from his ear, looking surprised.]
Gutch: Wow, ain't heard that in awhile.
Livestock: Let me talk to him.
[Hand off of the phone.]
Livestock: Zeke? What's up? Why'd you call?
[Pause for effect again. Hey, get used to it already.]
Livestock: Oh. Well, yeah, that's good, I guess. Huh? REALLY!?
Gutch: What?
Livestock: That's some news. But what about Burning Effect?
Wildcards again?
Gutch: We gotta fight that Baldwin bastard? Aw, geez. You know how
hard he hits!?
Livestock: Quiet, Gutch. Huh?
[Livestock stops walking, walks over to the wall, and leans back.
Stunned, he runs his fingers through his hair, taking it from a neatly
groomed professional-looking affair and turning it into that "just got
up" look that women seem to love. Hewitt looks him up and down with
lustful eyes.]
Livestock: Wow. Wow, that's badass. I really did not see that
coming. Kinda explains the trip back up to Michigan. Hell of a lot
of reading there. You ... may just be the greatest manager ever.
[At this point Gutch, who had been doing his stupid white man dance
"The Gutch Bartilootch", goes flat-footed and focuses entirely on
Livestock.]
Gutch: You will tell your partner what you know.
[Apparently Gutch thinks the Jedi mind trick will work on Livestock,
as he waves his hand in front of the beauty half of their team's face.
He waves the fat idiot off, however.]
Livestock: Yeah. Okay so, main eventing Burning Effect, then we're
golden. Great. No, I'm good. Yeah, bye Zeke. Thanks again.
[Motioning desperately for his phone, Gutch makes a motion to tear out
his own hair as Livestock hangs up.]
Gutch: No! Okay, now that I can't ask Zeke, you HAVE to tell me,
Livestock! That drove me freakin' crazy!
BBH: Yeah, baby, sounds like you had some big news. Don't keep us in
suspense.
Livestock: Oh, drop the act, Cindy.
BBH: Whatever, prettyboy. Spill the beans before I castrate you.
Livestock: Oh ... better, I guess. Yes! Okay, yes, we have the
Wildcards again next week--
Gutch: Aw man! I hate havin' to handle that Baldwin! You keep
throwin' me in with Baldwin! He's faster'n me, 'Stock. He might be
stronger than I am, and he's definitely faster, and I don't like that!
Livestock: Gutch.
Gutch: I wanna fight Marley. Gimme Marley. I could eat a Marley if
he was on a Hoagie-type bun, y'know? They're little. They're fast
but they're little.
Livestock: Gutch!
Gutch: I'd just sit on 'em. That's what I'd do. Gimme a Marley, and
I'll sit on 'em, and I'll fart! Not just any fart, but a damned egg
salad and baked bean fart that'll end the damned match! That's what
I'll do! Just you take care of Baldwin!
Livestock: GUTCH!
Gutch: WHAT!?
Livestock: It's a six-man tag. They got some guy, a singles guy.
Zeke didn't say who, just that he's a rookie.
Gutch: Oh, why didn't you say so? Let's just beat that guy up.
Livestock: Now you're talking. Now, let's go celebrate our victory
with a steak.
BBH: Oh, I like steak.
Gutch: Heh, she likes meat.
BBH: Yeah, but y'know ... low-fat stuff. Lean, grilled, not greasy...
Gutch: I get it, thanks a lot.
BBH: Ha! C'mere you.
[Grabbing both men by the elbow, Hewitt does her best to get everybody
to skip, but instead just kinda looks like she's having a seizure when
the other two just walk. It's a strangely happy scene that you don't
see very often in pro wrestling. End.]
------------------------------------
Remote feed,
The Wild Cards.
------------------------------------
[The camera fades in on a day care center. Six children (all between
the ages of 1 and 2) currently wander around randomly, grabbing toys,
chewing on things, randomly falling down and generally being babies.
Amidst this chaos, an unlikely sight emerges: Black Jack Baldwin and
"The Gambler" Judd Marley stand, surveying the infantile free-for-all
with a look of mixed fascination and horror.]
JB: (in awe) I never knew that so much fluid could come out of
something so small...
JM: (also in awe) It's like the exorcist...I was just waiting for her
head to start spinning.
[The Wild Cards stand pressed up against the wall in a nursery as the
child in question (a small blond girl with huge blue eyes and pig
tails wearing a onesy that reads "Cootie Pie" with a picutre of a
cootie-bug on it) looks up at the two awe-struck men and giggles,
tossing a rattle up in the air.]
JM: So...why did you decide we needed to come to a day care center
again, Jack? I've GOT kids...
JB: Right...but there are SIX kids here.
JM: Yeah?
JB: And the room is square.
JM: At the risk of being repetitive: Yeah?
JB: And our partner is pretty young...
JM: Not THAT young!
JB: But he's close! And Gionet is pretty young too...
JM: You're REALLY reaching, Jack.
JB: And Gutch wears diapers and drools on himself...
JM: ... Y'know, that's vaild. Okay, so what are we supposed to learn
from this? And if you try to beat down any of these babies, I swear
to you, I'll take you down.
JB: Who do you think I am, Paul Styles? I wouldn't beat up a
baby...unless I though it was gonna start something. Then it'd be on.
JM: Look, regardless of how new Gionet or Grissom are, it doesn't mean
that they've never wrestled before. Hell, Caleb Foley is an honest to
God rookie and he wrestled for a title here already.
JB: He's magically delicious, of course he got a shot. Everyone loves
the Irish.
JM: Except the English...but listen, I'm serious...just because
they're new, it doesn't make 'em pushovers. And be those two shysters
aren't new. They're the only ones that have cost us a match so far.
JB: (under his breath) oh I hate those lawyers...
JM: Exactly. If not for them, we might not HAVE to be chasing Royal
Family around while we try to get our hands on their belts...
JB: Fine fine fine, but while we're being honest...
JM: Which had to happen eventually, statistically speaking...
JB: ...how do you know we can depend on Grissom? The kid may no show.
He may suck. He could turn on us.
JM: None of which would be new for us, now would it? Grissom factors
into our plans for this match as much as these babies do.
JB: That's quite a bit. You see, I was thinking: We just need one of
those big dumpster bins...we stick some of the babies in it and...
JM: Stop. Now. You're not using a baby as a foreign object. This is
one place where I draw the line.
JB: Not A baby. MULTIPLE BABIES!
JM: No. Never. No way, no how. End of story. You'll need to figure
our something else.
JB: Already done. And by the time Livestock, Gutch and Gionet know
what hit 'em, we'll have already run Wild.
[end scene.]
------------------------------------
Backstage segment,
Larry Gionet.
------------------------------------
[The camera pans to the backstage area of the 52nd Street Armory in
Phoenix Arizona. While the area is filled with frantic people going
over last minute plans for the upcoming shows. we see one man intense
and focused. We see Larry Gionet sitting on a steel bench mentally
psyching himself up for his 6 man tag war on Burning Effect.]
The PVW wrestling world waits in wonder. Seeking answers to the
questions that I only have the answers to. They ask what this all
means. They ask why the unnecessary brutality. The very arrogance of
such a question is saddening. Without living with pain you don't live
in reality. Preventing suffering now only leads to suffering later
for your sins.
[Larry looks up right into the camera's lens as if burning a hole into
the very souls of his opponents. His piercing blue eyes move around
as if hypnotizing whomever stares into his gaze. He clasps his hands
together as he begins to tape up his wrists with white tape.]
Wildcards you've wrestled all over the globe and have won numerous
titles over the years boys, I will grant you that. How did you get
your success? You had to cheat while the fans treat you like idols.
You see boys, I have enough smarts in this brain and enough power in
these fists to win my battles. Its about time the PVW found out that
you are nothing without being able to sneak away a win. You try to
sneak up on me and I'll knock your teeth out. You try to use some
illegal tactic on me or my team mates, I will make sure you don't walk
in the morning.
[Gionet shakes his head in disgust as he pulls his dirty blond hair
back. He bites off the final piece of tape off and spits out its
remains. As if spitting out his opposition head off one by one.
Without blinking, he snarls at the camera not showing even a sign of a
smile as he continues on.]
Then there is Sugar Shane Grissom. I should have known that our paths
would cross once again. Your very suffering could only be avoided for
so long Shane.
You tried to be a champion out there Grissom and you couldn't get the
job done. You name it I've done it all Shane. Burning Effect won't
be your day to shine. I've worked too hard for some inexperienced
punk like you to walk all over what I've done.
[Larry Gionet begins to seethe through teeth as he exhales through his
nose. His shoulders tense up rising slowly up and down. Some people
overhear Gionet ready to burst and run the opposite direction to steer
clear of his rage. In a moments notice though, Larry regains his
composure sly smiling to the camera for the first time.]
Livestock and Gutch two of the biggest men in PVW have my back
tonight. I may not know a lot about these two men, but don't expect
for a second that it will throw me off MY game. I have been in this
business long enough to take the notion of the unknown head on and
adapt to any situation I may be put in. If one doesn't then they will
only drown in their own incompetence trust me on that!
My path of destruction has just begun in PVW. It started with Maniac
and Williams. Whomever gets in my way at Burning Effect WILL suffer
the same fate as the others. It's not about how or why its all about
do or die!
[Larry stands up with such force that he knocks over the steel bench
he was sitting on. He pounds his fists together making a hard smacking
sound. His demeanor shows he means business. The echoing of his
footsteps show this man is ready for a war.
He storms out of the vision of the cmaera as we then fade to black.]
------------------------------------
Remote feed,
"Sugar" Shayne Grissom.
------------------------------------
[The screen fades up to a full scale workout gym. We see men and
women working out on every piece of exercise equipment
conceivable. The camera seems to weave through this miriad of
trainees to find one piece of equipment in the back corner of the
room. The large man working out notices the camera and stops doing
his fly curls. We see "Sugar" Shayne Grissom now very
clear. Grissom stops working out and steps over and grabs a
towell. He speaks, but it is slightly muffled.]
Grissom: (kind of hard to hear) You guys from PVW?
Camera guy: Yeah
[Grissom pulls the towell off his head and smiles as he reaches for
the bench and trades the towell for a bottle of water. He takes a
swig of water and wipes his mouth as he sits down on the
workbench. He looks up to the camera and begins to speak.]
Grissom: Well, I'm finally shoing PVW a little of what I'm made of!
I have won both of my matches in PVW and man does it feel GREAT! One
thing about winning every match you seem to be in is that it keeps
getting tougher! I don't intend to lose anytime soon, no matter who
they throw at me. This time around, I get to team with a pair of
legends against some farm boys and a veteran named Larry Gionet
[Grissom takes another swig and wipes his head again with the towell.]
Grissom: I don't know much about Livestock and Gulch. I just know
that the team *I* am paired with and that means you guys are more
than nuetralized.
[Grissom chuckles a little when he thinks of that comparrison.]
Grissom: I mean seriously.....they *ARE* the WIld Cards! I remember
watching them when I was a kid! Judd and Jack are goign to be perfect
for making sure my unbeaten streak stays alive. I plan on learning
from them while we are int he match ebcause I know they are the kind
of veterans I can learn a thing or two from. Speaking of
veterans.....Mr. Gionet....
[Grissom smiles as he continues.]
Grissom: The fact that they paired you in against me says two things
to me. First it means that they know I am worthy of tougher
competition than what Ihave faced thus far in PVW. Second it means
that this match could be my first real challenge. But the fact you
are a former World Champion, twice Imight add, and a top performer
everywhere youhave been, also means I have to be ready to handle my
end of this six-man tag. This is why I have come to this gym.
[Grissom kind of points around as the camera gets a scaled view of
gym. The camera comes back to Grissom ashe is still toweling his
hair off. He smiles as he continues.]
Grissom: This is one of the larger gyms I have come across anywhere,
and it rocks! Today's workout was quite tough, which was easy to do
with so much equipment at my disposal. Now I wanna talk pretty
serious about the future and then I'm gonna get in the sauna for a
bit and then clean up to go out with this hot blond I met here
earlier named Addison.
[Grissom just sways his head a bit as if in though and he sighs as he
grins widely.]
Grissom: Anyway, business first. I am here working out because I
have to be ready for that big six-man tag match. Larry Gionetmay be
a bit over-the-hill, but he still could beat me if I am
unprepared. There is no way I am letting my fans down and losing
this match. I don't want to lose period. Winning to me, well...it's
sweeter than sugar!
[Grissom stands and places his left foot on the weight bench as he
leans in and continues to speak.]
Grissom: I want to give you some advice Gionet. If I manage to hurt
you with any kind of regular move, you better just give in. If I
nail you with the Sugar Shock, then it is over. I have not been here
for long and already have had moderate success. My career is just
startign to take off. If you think I am going to get complacent, you
are in for a surprise. You take me for granted, I will beat you
worse than anyone can imagine.
[Camera zooms in on Grissom as he paused and smiled large.]
Grissom: More on that this weekend, I guess. Now I wanna spend a
small amount of time on the rest of PVW.
[Camera pans back out to show Grissom's full torso again.]
Grissom: A new league is always a rookie's best friend. Caleb Foley
found that out rising to the top last cycle and contending for the
big belt. I'm not a huge star just yet. I'm earning my reputation
with every time my hand gets raised. Victory after victory, my name
will start showing up in the minds of the people. Sooner than you
think, PVW will end up with a serious sweet tooth and crown me
champion.
[Grissom takes another swig of his water and then continues.]
Grissom: I hope all of you in the locker room are training right now
because I am ready and able to give these great fans the kind of
matches they want. High action, high impact, and satisfaction
gauranteed. A Grissom win and celebration. Nothing more is
acceptable to the fans of the Phoenix.
[Camera zooms in again to show Grissom's face full in the screen. He
is smiling.]
Grissom: And anything less than total victory is unacceptabel to
me. (chuckles)
[Camera pans out again.]
Grissom: As far as this match on burning effect, Gionet,
Livestock....Gulch, you better be ready to wage war in the
ring. However, I wouldn't be betting the ranch on you winning. I
mean, it would be a real shame if you were to lose everything, then
all you are left is with a country song. "Poor Larry threw it all in
the can, the night he thought he could beat the man!" That's right
Gionet start signing now!
[Grissom smiles as he walks away, taking a swig of water and flinging
his towell over his shoulder.]
Grissom: Sing a little country with me! (singing) Gionet's gonna
get his ass kicked by a rookie....(trails off as he rounds the corner)
[The screen fades to black as Grissom rounds a corner singing his
made-up country song.]
------------------------------------
Main event,
tag action,
'Sugar' Shane Grissom & the Wild Cards
-vs-
Larry Gionet & Livestock & The Gutch.
------------------------------------
[Lights go out as a voice splits the darkness.]
VOICE: Alright......You know what time it is!
[Limp Bizkit's "Rollin'" begins to blare on the PA system as fireworks
and cannons explode around the entrance area. Out steps "Sugar"
Shayne Grissom decked out in a shining vest and his wrestling tights
are solid purple, with '"cut" holes in them that have black, see-
through material in them. His black hair pulled back in a tail and
sunglasses firmly on his head he poses for the crowd as a giant,
purple "Sugar" flashes on the big screen above him. The crowd explodes
in cheers as he slowly walks down the aisle and slaps high fives with
fans all the way down to the ring. Grissom reaches center ring and
rather than strike a pose to show off his muscles, simply rolls under
the bottom rope as the chorus echoes with cannons firing from the
ring posts...no doubt still showing effects of the brawl moments
ago.]
Song: #ROLLIN', ROLLIN', ROLLIN'#
Song: #ROLLIN', ROLLIN', ROLLIN'#
Song: #ROLLIN', ROLLIN', ROLLIN'#
[The music dies down as Grissom removes his glasses and vest to
prepare for the match as the fans begin chanting "Sugar!" over and
over. Grissom's face looks as though it has been through a war
already.]
JB: Shayne Grissom has been on a roll this is the second week in a row
he has main evented The Burning Effect.
FH: I am getting tired of seeing him.
[The arena lights dim and laser lights begin to play along the
rafters. After a moment a breathy woman's voice comes over the PA
system and asks "Are you ready to go Wild?"
"Wild Side" by Motley Crue kicks into high gear over the announce
system as three figures appear at the entryway.
The first is a well built man with short cropped sandy blond hair
wearing a black long legged singlet with purple tights over the top.
On the outside of his black wrestling boots there is a picture of a
pair of dice (showing snake eyes).
The second, by far the largest of the three is a heavily muscled, bald
man with a goatee. Standing nearly seven feet tall, he wears a black
long legged singlet with purple tights over the top. On the outside
of his black wrestling boots there is a picture of a pair of cards
(Jack of Spades and Ace of Spades...which matches the tattoo on his
right bicep). He wears black elbow and knee pads to finish off his
gear.]
HD: Now making their way to the ring, weighing in at a combined
total of 540 lbs. They are "The Gambler" Judd Marley and Black Jack
Baldwin...
THE WILD CARDS!
[The fans erupt into applause as the three men make their way down to
the ring slapping hands with the fans as they go. As they reach
ringside, Baldwin steps over the top rope while Marley climbs the
turnbuckle in the 'Cards' corner points out to the fans, stands on the
top and performs a back flip into the ring to a thunderous ovation.]
FH: I hate these guys. They never take anything seriously.
JB: The fans in the 52nd Street Armory would disagree.
[The lights dim to black as the booming intro of "Driven" by Sevendust
can be
heard through the PA system.]]
(stop the man)
From endin' up with all the chips so he can't
(promise him an only chance)
To have the freedom that's been takin' from me
[Mini Strobe lights rotating between blue and red flash up the
scaffolding,
circling in the dark chaos of the darkened archway illuminating the
figure of a
man standing in the darkness. The lights begin flashing near the
rampway off
and on surrounding now the visible figure of Larry Gionet before
fading out
again. Larry Gionet steps up out onto the stage as loud fireworks
shoot up in
stereo bursts from either side of the stage! He looks across the sea
of fans as
a chorus of boos resonate throughout the arena.]
(you - can - try - to - lift - your - head - no)
You fucked up with me now live with the truth
Find a reason to lie (try)
[Larry Gionet slowly walks to the ring as the boos become louder. He
wears his
red and black half long tights with his name in red slash lettering,
black
kneepads and black boots. Without hesitation, he just shrugs off the
noise
heard from the crowd. With a menacing look on his face, he stops at
ringside
and raises a head to stare at the crowd with a deep stare taking in a
very deep
breath. The fans become a blur as he turns towards the ring]
Seems like it hasn't been long - I've given
(so much how could you hide)
You're sick with all the guilt you're never - forgiven
(you try to wash it away - wash it away)
[The music crashes around him as he heads for the ring steps. Climbing
the
stairs, Gionet makes his way along the ring apron's edge. He looks out
across
the rows of waving fans, and hand locked on the top rope, steps inside
with
authority. Larry Gionet walks right across the ring as he climbs the
buckles and
pounds his fists as the jeers continue mercifully.]
(ask again) why all the dreams I had
Are now left broken
(punished for a wounded past)
Afraid to wake and find reality breathin
(why - has - life - been - taken - from - me)
I fucked up and now I live with the truth
With no reason to lie (I)
[Larry Gionet drops down, the blue turned to red lights flash across
the ring as
he starts pulling on the ring ropes to test for give. Charging through
the
shadows at breakneck speed, Gionet crashes into the other side and
skids to a
halt in the center of the ring. Larry raises both arms, one hand
clamping his
other wrist as he looks out across the arena, cold blue eyes
focused....]
Feel like it hasn't been long - I'm driven
(to keep myself alive)
You're sick with all the guilty you're never - forgiven
(you'll never wash it away - wash it away)
[The lights begin to rise as Gionet raises a fist into the air. A
striking
electric guitar solo blares throughout the packed house leading his
entrance
theme like the cold glare in Larry's eyes streaming out across the
arena. Gionet
grates a thumb across his neck signaling for his music to be cut.]
FH: Now this guy is tough. Gionet may knock some sense in these three
door mats.
JB: Gionet comes into the PVW highly decorated and this is his first
of many expected main event appearances.
#There I was completely wasting, out of work and down#
[With no lighting effects, no fanfare, just the words "The Gutch and
Livestock" on the PVW video screen, a pair of big men in business
suits carrying briefcases emerge from the entrance portal.]
#all inside it's so frustrating as I drift from town to town#
#feel as though nobody cares if I live or die#
[The Gutch stops just outside the portal and begins doing what can
only be called a "Stupid white man dance". He calls it "The Gootch
Bartilootch." Livestock just looks the other way, pretending that his
partner isn't an idiot.]
#so I might as well begin to put some action in my life#
#Breaking the law, breaking the law#
[At this, they begin walking down the aisle.]
#Breaking the law, breaking the law#
#Breaking the law, breaking the law#
[Still walking.]
#Breaking the law, breaking the law#
HD: Weighing in tonight at a combined weight of 675 pounds, this is
the team of LIVESTOCK and THE GUTCH!
[Aaand they reach the ring. Saints be praised.]
JB: Three on Three action set to begin!
FH: Let's watch as the Wild Cards teach Shayne Grissom how to lose.
[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]
Three on Three, 20 Minute Time Limit:
Wild Cards & Shayne Grissom
v. Livestock, The Gutch, and Larry Gionet
[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]
<<< DING DING >>>
JB: There is the bell and we are starting things off with Judd Marley
and Livestock. The Wild Cards and Livestock and The Gutch are
becoming quite the acquaintances.
FH: Add Gionet into the mix and Wild Cards are in severe trouble.
[Judd Marley and Livestock circle the mat. Like clockwork the two men
shoot in and lock up. The faster and more experienced, Judd Marley
quickly with an arm wringer. Livestock backs the Wild Card member
against the ropes and sends him across ... Marley bounces off and
ducks under a clothesline. On the rebound Livestock drops to the
ground and Marley leaps over... Livestock back up and goes for a
hiptoss, but Marley quick on his feet hops around and SMALL PACKAGE!]
ONE ...
TWO ...
THR ---
JB: A quick pinfall attempt and it almost works, but Livestock kicks
out! Marley back up and is PLANTED with a forceful short-arm
clothesline.
FH: That'll shake things up.
[Livestock begins to put the boots to The Gambler. Marley continues
to try and push himself to his feet and Livestock has him up and
whips into the corner with a big Irish Whip... Marley stumbles
backwards and right into a big boot. Livestock drags Judd into his
corner and tags in Larry Gionet.]
FH: Time for Judd to swallow some teeth!
"___THHWWAAAPPP___"
"___THHWWAAAPPP___"
"___THHWWAAAPPP___"
JB: BRUTAL CROSSFACES!
FH: Do it again!
[Larry Gionet pulls Marley up and HUGE Irish Whip.. Marley holding his
back stumbles right back out into a Spinning Back Fist...]
FH: Judd Marley just folded like a card table!
JB: Gionet is dropping and hooks a leg!
ONE ...
TWO ...
[POP!]
JB: Baldwin in for the save!!!! Referee Jay O'Riley quickly over to
force Baldwin back out and Livestock quickly back in and Gionet and
Livestock are putting the boots to Judd Marley.
[The duo pull Judd Marley up and they drop him throat first into the
top ropes.. Gionet steps to the outside as Livestock hooks the leg
again.]
ONE ...
TWO ...
JB: Marley just gets a shoulder up.
[Livestock pulls him back up and BIG BACKBREAKER... Marley rolls on
the mat holding his mid back as Baldwin and Grissom reach through the
ropes trying to make the hot tag... Marley just gets in range and
Livestock pulls Marley backwards... Marley turns and shakes him off
turning --- ]
[HOT TAG POP!]
JB: GRISSOM!!!!!
FH: NO!
[Grissom is unloading lefts and rights... He whips Livestock into the
ropes and on the rebound -- POWERSLAM!!!!! Livestock stumbles
quickly back up and Grissom goes to perform an abdominal stretch.
After a few seconds of not getting anywhere submission wise, Grissom
turns it into a pump handle lift into the air. Grissom catches
Livestock and drops him in a very big time juvi-driver looking move.]
JB: LOOK AT THAT!! GRISSOM COULDN'T GET THE STRETCH LOCKED AND TURNED
IT INTO A HUGE SPOT!
FH: Not bad for a rookie.
JB: Grissom slow at making the cover, but gets there!
ONE ...
TWO ...
FH: Take that! Kick out!
[The young Shayne Grissom isn't wasting any time he yanks Livestock up
and whips him hard into the corner! Livestock does a Flair/Michaels
flip up to the top turnbuckle, only to flip back down to his feet and
stagger back towards Grissom. Grissom then grabs him and one quick
motion lifts him into a belly to belly --]
"___THHHWWAAAAPPP___"
[OOOOHHHHHH POP!]
ONE ...
TWO ...
[HEEL POP!]
JB: The Gutch in to break the count and BALDWIN IN THROWING BOMBS AND
BACKING THE BIG MAN UP!!!!!
FH: He can't do that!
[The Referee trying to get Baldwin and The Gutch out makes way for
Larry Gionet who grabs Grissom from behind and a Neckbreaker!!!]
FH: Big heads up move by Gionet!
JB: He pushes Livestock under the ropes now and turns and begins
putting the boots to Grissom. He yanks Sugar Shayne up and goes to
whip him into the ropes.... Grissom counters and sends Gionet
across...
[BIG SHOULDER BLOCK BY GIONET... Grissom stays pat though... The two
lock up, but Gionet with a quick chop to the throat of Grissom. He
hits the ropes, but Marley grabs his ankle tripping him!]
FH: Those good for nothing cheating Wild Cards.
JB: Grissom grabs Gionet's leg and begins to go for the Sugar lock,
but Livestock is in and nearly beheads him with a clothesline!!!
FH: Heads up move by Livestock!
[Jay O'Riley grabs Livestock as Grissom tags the returning Baldwin in
for the first time. Black Jack pulls Gionet up and sends him
across... He catches the rebounding Gionet and BIG SIDEWALK SLAM!!!]
ONE ...
TWO ...
JB: Gionet with a strong kick out.
FH: Get the Big Gutch in there!
[Black Jack pushes Gionet towards his corner calling for The Gutch.
Gionet reaches up tagging in the big fella. The Gutch steps into the
ring .. Black Jack hits the ropes and charges with a big shoulder
block... ]
"___CRRAAASSHHH___"
JB: The Gutch stands there taking it!
FH: He is like three of Baldwin.
[Baldwin being the stubborn mule that he is takes off again... This
time he stops as The Gutch braces himself and crawls in-between his
legs and goes behind The Gutch and grabs behind his pants and yanks
up with a massive wedgies!]
JB: OH MY!!!!
FH: ACK MY EYES!!!
[Laughing Pop!]
JB: Zeke is livid!!
FH: That almost blinded the whole arena!
[The Gutch turns and grabs Baldwin who was half bent over in laughter
and lifts him in a bear hug, but twists him and charges SMASHING him
into the corner! Baldwin stumbles out and DDT by The Gutch....]
FH: Someone tell Gutch to pull that out.
JB: Be my guest.
[The Gutch hits the ropes and BIG SPLASH ON BALDWIN...]
ONE ...
TWO ...
[POP!]
JB: Baldwin just gets a shoulder up.
FH: The Gutch is mad now.
JB: He pulls Baldwin up and sends him into the ropes... Baldwin ducks
under and slaps Marley's hand, but as he rebounds... The Gutch
catches him ....
"___THHWWWAAAPPP___"
FH: POWERSLAM!
[The Gutch awaits for the referee to make the count, but Marley is now
the legal man and drops an axe handle on the back of The Gutchs mid
back...]
JB: That just made The Gutch mad.
FH: Now he did it...
[Judd in the ring with Gutch standing toe to toe and trading punches.
Judd ducks under a big right hand that spins Gutch around, allowing
Marley to kick him hard in the gut, doubling him over and
allowing Judd to drop him with a single arm DDT. Livestock enters the
ring and Judd steps forward and drops him with a drop toe hold that
sends him head to head with his partner. As the two men lie there,
Baldwin is back up and Gionet enter. Gionet tries to clothesline
Marley, who ducks, allowing Baldwin to hit him with a big Yakuza
kick. The Wild Cards quickly stand, and hit an assisted powerbomb on
Gionet, spiking him onto the two lawyers and leaving the lot of them
in a pile.]
JB: WILD TIME!!!
FH: That's cheating ref!!!
"___CRRRAAACCCKKKK___"
JB: AND THAT ISN'T!?!
FH: What?
JB: With Referee Jay O'Riley distracted, Zeke Craven just leveled
Grissom from behind on the side of the ring apron with that
briefcase!
FH: His loss.
[With things breaking down in the ring, Zeke hits Judd from behind,
getting his attention. Judd rolls out of the ring and starts to give
chase, but as soon as Zeke takes off, Judd stops, diving back under
the bottom rope and coming up behind Gutch, who he quickly hits with a
low blow. Judd then hits a running bulldog on Livestock, and grabs
his legs while Zeke tries to come back into the ring, only to be
headed off by the official. Baldwin climbs the top rope and jumps,
hitting a flying head butt to Livestock's nether regions.]
FH: See these guys should be banned from the PVW! They cheat worse
then the Royal Family!
JB: I thought you said The Royal Family never cheats.
[Baldwin turns and is nearly beheaded with a Mafia kick by Gionet.
Judd charges, but Gionet catches him with a RING SHAKING
SPINEBUSTER!]
FH: Larry Gionet just took out BOTH of the Wild Cards...
[Shayne Grissom has rolled back into the ring and Gionet is back up
staring down at the fallen mess... Grissom turns Gionet around ...
ACE CRUSHER!!]
JB: NO... Larry Gionet pushes him off, but Grissom with a lariat...
FH: Livestock back in...
[... BUT GRISSOM UNLOADING RIGHTS AND LEFTS!!!! The Gutch with a
double axe handle from behind... Marley back up and TACKLES
Livestock THROUGH THE ROPES...... Baldwin with bone crushing right
hands sending The Gutch reeling.]
JB: Wild Cards for the save!!!!
FH: Have I ever told you I hate these guys?
JB: BALDWIN SENDS THE GUTCH OVER THE TOP ROPES!!!! BUT HE LANDED ON
HIS FEET!
FH: Thank god.
[Baldwin shrugs and DIVES THROUGH THE ROPES AND ON TOP OF THE GUTCH
SENDING HIM BACKWARDS COLLIDING INTO THE GUARDRAIL.... BREAKING THE
GUARD RAIL!!]
JB: The steel guard rails that sit protecting the fans was just
snapped by the weight of The Gutch!
FH: Give it a medal of honor it tried it's best, but who can survive
that much weight falling on top of you.
[POP!]
JB: ZEKE CRAVEN WAS GOING TO HIT GRISSOM WITH THAT BRIEFCASE AGAIN....
GRISSOM HAS CAUGHT IT!!!!
FH: This isn't good.
[Grissom with an Ace Crusher on Zeke Craven!]
JB: The Sugar Shock!!!!
FH: HE CAN'T DO THAT!
[POP TURNS INTO HEEL POP!]
FH: GIONET SURPRISE KICK TO THE GUT ON GRISSOM!
JB: Gionet lifts him into a reverse tombstone piledriver...
FH: Darkness Falls!!! This baby is over!!!
ONE ...
TWO ...
THREE ???
JB: MARLEY WITH THE SAVE!!!!
<<< DING DING >>>
[HEEL POP!]
FH: YES!
JB: THREE COUNT?
BULL SHIT!!!! BULL SHIT!!!! BULL SHIT!!!!
BULL SHIT!!!! BULL SHIT!!!! BULL SHIT!!!!
BULL SHIT!!!! BULL SHIT!!!! BULL SHIT!!!!
[Marley and Baldwin are now in trying to reason with the referee. The
replay shows that Marley made the save right before the three count,
but the referee walks over and raises Gionet's hand. Livestock and
The Gutch are helping Zeke Craven up.]
[BOOOOOOOOOOOO!]
[Baldwin and Marley look at each other and shrug then turn and rush
Livestock and The Gutch!!!!!]
JB: The Wild Cards aren't done!!!
FH: Gionet right there tossing bombs on Marley.. To Baldwin...
[POP!]
[Grissom is up and drills Gionet in the mid back with a knee. He
swings him around.... SUGAR SHOCK!!!!!!]
JB: GRISSOM ISN'T HAPPY!!!! OUT GOES LIVESTOCK!!!!!!! FOLLOWED BY
THE GUTCH!!!!
FH: The Wild Cards and Grissom can act like poor sports if they like,
but Gionet, Livestock, and The Gutch picked up the win!
JB: The battle is over, but the War is far from over!
[The Wild Cards and Grissom standing inside the ring daring for the
trio to enter. Zeke Craven is now up and screaming that this isn't
over. He will sue all three of them! Baldwin turns and drops his
pants mooning the four as the fans go absolutely wild as the camera
fades you hear Fred Hoyle one last time.]
FH: I hate those guys.
