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March 17th, 2001

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[7:03 pm | The Cow Palace, San Fransisco California]

[The camera fades in. You see a backstage shot of David Zakin, he's dressed in his casual wear with a mic in hand. David nods and begins to speak.]

Zakin: Hello Suicide fans. As many of you know, it's very likely that at Se7en all of the.. Ack!

[Zakin is suddenly knocked to the ground face first. Gavin Coens now stands over him sporting an evil grin. The camera pans down to reveal Gavin holding a lead pipe in his hands. He lifts the pipe above his head to strike again when Zakin sweeps his feet out from under him that sends him to the floor as well. Zakin then jumps on top of Gavin and the two begin to exchange blows. The camera slowly fades out to a new scene. Instead of the usual fireworks, music, and screaming fans - you see an office, of sorts. Sitting behind the desk is the familiar Tony Bradshaw. He wears a black suit jacket with a blue jean shirt underneath. Tony looks flat-out depressed. He shuffles through a few papers, and then pulls a TV stand into the shot, which obviously holds a 16” TV. Tony turns the TV on, and the screen turns sheer blue. The light from the TV bounces off Tony’s face, as Tony spots the camera in front of him. Tony takes a deep breath, and finally addresses the camera.]

Tony: Good… uh, evening fans… if you’re still up with us, that is. As most of you have heard through various sources, like the internet, the HWF’s longtime TV provider has cut their deal with the HWF for unknown reasons. This was the main reason that you were watching SNL last night instead of Saturday Suicide. Anyway, we can’t dwell on that now, I think you guys are more interested in hearing the results of Suicide than to my blabber.

[Tony shuffles through a papers once more, until he comes across the one he wants.] Tony: Alright, before we get to any matches, let’s view what happened at the beginning of the show…

[The camera slowly fades out to a shot from early in the night. The cameras cut to backstage, where it shows HWF correspondant, Kevin Bradley. He's playing a card game with a group of other staff members. He grins widely as the others slam their cards down in frustration.]

Employee #1: Dammit!

Kevin: Hahaha.. I win again. Gimme my money.

Employee #2: No way! You had to have che-

Kevin: Quit ya complainin' and gimme my fuckin' money, biyatch!

[With a couple grumbles and mumbles coming from them, the two employees reluctantly give Kevin both fifty bucks each. Kevin stands up, and starts counting his money.]

Kevin: Heh heh heh heh... that was WAY too easy. Three hundred bones in less than ten minutes.

[Kevin backs up some, and then when he's through counting his money, he spins around and moves forward..... right into Rage. He bumps into his chest.]

Kevin: Woah! What the fuck?!

[He looks up at Rage, as he looks down at Kevin with a 'you annoy me, little peice of shit boy' look. Kevin quickly grabs up his hand-held camera, and backs up some. Rage follows him with his eyes, as Kevin turns it on and starts shooting.]

Kevin: You startled me there, Rage. Man, you're a scary-lookin' sumbitch.

[Rage sneers at Kevin.]

Kevin *nervously*: Yeah... umm.... errr.... but anyways, what brings you here?

Rage: I'm looking for Brady.

Kevin: JD? Man, I dunno where th' fuck he's at. I know he's here, but no one's seen him since he arrived earlier. You check his locker room?

Rage: Yes.

Kevin: Well, I dunno where the sumbitch is. Why do you want him anyway? Don't you gots a match with him, Mayhem, and Renegade?

Rage: Don't worry about that, Bradley.

Kevin: Umm....right. So, speakin' of which...You're one of the only people to capture a HWF title in only your SECOND week here. Tonight you're fighting three men in a non-title match. One of them happens to be the current HWF Hardcore King of Violence champion, and the other three are top contenders, including yourself. Any comments on that shit?

Rage: .....It's nothing but a matter of time. I've already obliterated Brady once. The bitch just happened to survive. That doesn't matter, though. Because I don't intend to make that mistake again. They all go around, having their fun, playing around, and whatever. But what they REALLY should be doing is focusing on me. Because while they're playing and having their fun, I grow stronger. Stronger each day, each hour, each minute... each second. My hate for them feeds me and fuels the raging fire within me: My desire to destroy. Tonight, in San Fransisco.. our match with have no disqualifications.

Kevin: Which means-

Rage *inturrupting*: Which MEANS, I can do whatever the fuck I want. Drake should really be more careful when he gives me that kind of freedom. Now, in this match... I have three victims. They go by the names of Renegade... Mayhem... and my own personal little punching bag: "The Original Idiot" JD Brady. Let's start with Renegade. I don't know much about you, Renegade, and I don't care to. So let's just see if you have enough gray matter inside that rag-wearing cranium of yours to know to stay the hell out of my way when we meet inside the ring tonight. Otherwise, I'll kill you just like I'll do Brady and Mayhem. Now speaking of whom, Mayhem is next on the list. Now Mayhem, you say you respect me? Okay. That's good. Because I couldn't give a fuck LESS about you. So just get this shit straight now, Mayhem. I don't like you, you don't like me, and tonight.. I'll kill you with utmost prejudice. Don't talk to me about fear, Mayhem. Because I know it like you wouldn't believe. The thing is... I'm always the one who CAUSED it, never recieved it. And I never will. I fear nothing. But you, on the other hand, probably fear me. How else would you explain the mask you wear to the ring? You don't want me to see the scared, terrified look in your eyes and the fearful expression stricken on your face. That's alright, though. I don't have to see your face to know your afraid, Mayhem. Because I can SENSE it. I know if you're scared. And though you may not admit it on camera, you are horrified of me. Face it, you can't win.

Kevin: And....Brady?

Rage: Brady has trouble with expressing his feelings, in a way. He always avoids the matter at hand, which is me decimating him--AGAIN, and goes around doing lesiure activites. Playing cards, going out, writing extremely STUPID poems which would be dispised even by a DEAF person, and the like. He's already felt my wrath twice before. Why not go for thrice? I surely have no objections to it. But, I want to prolong the painful massacre. Tonight, Brady will feel the force of Rage, but I shall let him live.... for now. For at Seven, he will NOT ONLY be the one to lose his precious HWF Hardcore King of Violence title to me, AGAIN...he will be the one..

[There's a brief eerie silence between the two after that last statement. Then, Kevin speaks.]

Kevin: Yeah, umm... so, say you DO when this match tonight....

[Rage looks at Kevin and narrows his eyes at him.]

Kevin: Okay, okay... WHEN you win this match tonight... next week, at Seven.. you'll have to fight them AGAIN in an HWF first: A Homicide Death Match. Where some crazy shit's gonna go down. Just some of the shit that's gonna be there, include a pit of fire, all types of weapons, and a fucking NOOSE. All up inside a cage. How can you possible prepare yourself going into this match?

[Rage just stands there for a moment, and then begins.]

Rage: How will I prepare going into this match at Seven? It's very simple, Bradley. Everything in that match consists of unforgiving, relentless, tools of destruction. And I plan to use every one of them to their full potential on Renegade, Mayhem... and especially, Brady. They have yet to experience a pain in this world that is equivalent to that which I will make them endure, come next week at Sev-ugh....

[Rage suddenly doubles over, and clenches his head in pain. He shakes his head to try to vanquish the pain, but it doesn't seem to be working. Rage then shoves Kevin out of his way as he staggers past him, and off camera. Kevin is left standing there with a 'whoa' look on his face. Looking the direction that Rage went. The camera fades back to Tony, who’s ready with his papers.]

Tony: And then, Phoenix decided to cut a promo...lets show the clip of that happening.

["Underachiever" by Pitchshifter blasts through the arena as the fans begin to stir. After a few seconds, Phoenix, with his upper body heavily bandaged to cover the burns sustained last week, walks through the curtains to an almost deafening sea of boos. Phoenix walks to the front of the stage and stands there for a few moments almost taking in the atmosphere. He then raises his arms in the air and slowly walks down to the ring. He slides in underneath the bottom rope and calls for a mic which is quickly tossed to him. He looks around once again before laughing to himself as he raises the mic to his mouth to speak.]

Phoenix: I've been laid up for the last week. Nothing but lying in the hospital and thinking. Thinking about what Michael Trey did to me last week and thinking about what he said. And you know what? Maybe he's right. Maybe for once he spoke the truth. Maybe our last few matches haven't meant a thing. So let's look back at our history. First up, we had our classic match at last year's Reckless Behavior.

[Pop from the fans.]

Phoenix: Yeah, that's pretty much how I feel. We fought all over the building that night. We took it into the back and we took it into the crowd. Trey made me bleed and I made him burn. In the end, the match ended on a DQ with me having the painful reminders from that match in the form of one less tooth in my already crooked smile and a couple of broken ribs. But since no one won that match fairly, let's toss that one out. Next up on our list was our match last month hen tXa fought the Anti-Heroes. And once again, I made Trey burn. But in the end, his team came out on top. But since it wasn't one on one not to mention the little interference from one Jeff Robinson, let's throw that match out too.

Jeff: I'm sorry for that one Phoenix. I guess I didn't realize your star power at that point.

Tim: The hell you didn't. You were saving your pretty boy Lance Sterling and you know it.

Jeff: Quiet you.

Phoenix: Next up was the tag team match. Now I thought that match was pretty evenly matched as Storm and I took it to you and Sterling. Maybe you think it was a little unfair and maybe not. But there was nothing wrong with that match or as you would put it. The truth about that match was that it was perfectly fair. If anything was remotely illegal, Bisc would've blown the whistle and fixed what was wrong. But since he didn't stop a thing, there was nothing wrong with the match. But I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. It was another tag match, so we can throw that out too.

Tim: Benefit of the doubt? It took Phoenix and four other people to take Trey out in that match. It wasn't remotely close to being fair.

Jeff: Phoenix was merely taking advantage of the rules. If Bisc allowed it then there was nothing wrong.

Tim: But he needed help to eliminate Trey instead of trying to do it himself, that makes him a coward.

Jeff: And that makes you an assclown.

Phoenix: So that brings us up to the Flames of Phoenix match, our first one on one match in over two months. I claim that was a fair match, but you say it doesn't count because you were injured. You had to escape from the hospital for that match. To me, you're just bitching about the fact you got beat in front in front of Tempest and Davison. You got beat in front of the whole world in a fair match. You got beat by me, the wave of the future. So if you want that match to not count for anything, fine. So that only leaves one other match. And that was our tag match last week. You and the Wreckin' Crew against myself and Teen Angst. And once again, you lost to some of the men who will lead this company in the future. But then, it wasn't a one on one match, so according to your rules, that match doesn't mean a thing either. So now, let me get this right. If the match isn't one on one, or if one of us is hurt, then the match doesn't count. That's how it is, right Trey? So then, according to your rules, tonight's match won't count either. You set me on fire last week so this week is my recuperating week. I'm too hurt right now to give a fair match so just to let you know, this match means nothing. If I win, it'll be another example of an underdog coming out on top. But if you win, so what? You'd be taking advantage of an injured opponent so a victory would be worthless to you.

Tim: He's a fucking coward.

Jeff: Will you shut up already?

Tim: But he's a pussy, plain and simple.

Phoenix: So Trey, I have an idea. Since this week's match is unfair, and obviously tilted in your favor, let's look on to Se7en. Eight days from now in Sin City itself, we're already booked. We are going to have to fight one more time. So let's not make any excuses for this match. That match in Las Vegas will be the one that people will remember. That will be the match will be one that counts. That match won't have any excuses. That match will be what matters in this whole mess. That match won't be about Trey and Bisc Li or Trey and Claire. That match will be about two men, Michael Trey and Phoenix and nothing else. Now you say that I have to bring back my piece of shit gimmick matches from the other half-assed feds I've been in. That may be, but I have one that even you will like. Roll the tape.

[Up on the Extream Screen, a clip is shown of Phoenix walking in to an abandoned building. Phoenix has his hair cut short and is wearing his flame covered pants and a heavy leather glove on his right hand. In that hand, he is holding a large roll of razor wire. Once inside the building, Phoenix walks across a rather large lobby style room and then into a room filled with various gaming tables and slot machines. Next, a shot is shown of a muscular man wearing Adidas warmups and carrying a baseball bat with several small spikes sticking out of it.]

Phoenix: This Trey was my greatest match in the AIW. This was my last match before I was forced to leave due to injury. This match was the Casino from Hell. The premise is real simple. You take two men, myself and one Alex Cruise, and put them inside an abandoned casino and let them go at it.

[On the screen, Cruise storms into the main room where Phoenix is waiting and charges right for him, bringing the bat back for a huge swing. Phoenix tosses the razor wire off to the side and sidesteps Cruise's swing. Phoenix takes a swing of his own which Cruise dodges and swings the bat at Phoenix, connecting with Phoenix's ribs. Phoenix grabs his side and falls to the ground as Cruise connects with two more shots from the bat. The screen fades to a shot of Cruise lying on a pool table where Phoenix grabs the razor wire and uses it to slice a decent sized gash above Cruise's left eye as the blood begins to flow. The screen then fades to a shot of both men bleeding heavily and standing on top of a row of slot machines. Cruise has Phoenix in a standing head scissors before lifting him up and piledriving him the top of the machines causing Phoenix to fall to the floor.]

Phoenix: And then the fun begins Trey. What makes this match special is that at the fifteen minute mark, the entire base of the building is set on fire, trapping the two men inside the building in a fiery prison. There is only one way to stop the match Trey. No pinfalls. No submissions. The only way to end this thing is to walk out of the building admitting you've lost, admitting you've been beaten. When you walk out of the inferno, you tell the whole world that the better man is still inside. This match isn't just hardcore, this match is lethal. I almost lost my life in the last one, so I think this twist of an "I Quit" match is perfect for us with the way for me to prove I'm the better man for me and the fire just for you.

[Back up on the screen, the building is now full of flames and smoke. Phoenix and Cruise are now standing on top of a blackjack table that has the razor wire wrapped around it trading punches. After a second, Phoenix bends Cruise over into a standing head scissors and goes for a powerbomb. He tries, once, twice, three times, and can't get him up. Cruise then stands up, flipping Phoenix over onto the strands of razor wire. Phoenix yells out like a dying rabbit before rolling off the table, his back completely covered in blood. He lands on a flaming patch of carpet before rolling to safety on an unlit portion. He attempts to stand up, but just falls down and stops moving. Just then, a rather large beam from the ceiling comes crashing down, completely engulfed in flames. Cruise begins to cough from all the smoke that came from the beam's crash landing and looks down at the unmoving and completely torn up and burnt body of Phoenix. He then slowly begins to walk toward the building's entrance which he finds is completely blocked off by a wall of fire. He then looks around and takes a nearby stool and throws it at a nearby wall which is beginning to show signs of being burned completely burned through. The stool crashes through the wall making a rather large hole in the wall. Cruise then breathes heavily and half limps half runs at the wall throwing his body through it. When he hits the outside, EMTs quickly run to help him.]

Phoenix: Right there Trey, I passed out from a combination of blood loss and smoke inhalation. I easily could have died right there. So you know what, I think this is the perfect way for us to have our first real match. But to go along with the theme for Se7en, let's not have this in a casino, oh no. Let's have this match in a church. How's that sound Trey? Eight days from now, you, me, a burning church, Hell On Earth Match?

Jeff: Finally, Phoenix is going to be able to put an end to Trey's career.

Tim: Are you aware that it might be that coward Phoenix who loses?

Jeff: When you put it that way. But, it's best not to think of that.

[Phoenix tosses the mic toward a ring attendant before walking to the other side of the ring. He climbs up on the bottom rope and begins yelling back toward the stage, looking for Trey.] Tony: Alright, the first match of the evening was the Hardcore Title Match - pitting Rage, against Renegade, against Mayhem, against current HC Champion, JD Brady. This was a sure-fire brawl, let’s get to the highlights…

[Tony presses a button on the TV, as the camera zooms in. Footage from the Hardcore Title Match begins on the screen, as Tony begins to voice-overs the exact action.]

Tony: The match was pretty even throughout. Mayhem dominated in the early-going, but eventually was DDT’d off the apron by Rage. Rage then focused on Brady, completely dominating him with furious left and right hands. Renegade jumped in a chokeslam-ed Rage to the mat. Renegade went to the outside for a chair, but found himself embroiled in a fight now with Mayhem. The two battled back and forth, and eventually spilled back into the ring - where Brady was beating on Rage now. The four men came together in one gigantic brawl, which sent both Rage and Mayhem reeling over the top rope. As Mayhem and Renegade fought on the outside, the battle continued in the ring with Brady and Rage, with Brady having the slight advantage. While Rage pulled off for a second, JD pulled out a pair of brass knuckles with thumbtacks on them. Rage ran towards JD, but JD took a huge swing and drilled Rage right in the chin, double him over. Brady quickly applied a front chancery on him, picked him up, and dropped him for the Cradle DDT for the win. After the match, however, Rage was quick to his feet and the battle continued on into the backstage area. Where it’s probably still going on right now!!

[ The footage on the screen cuts out. Tony shuffles through his pages again.]

Tony: That Homicide Deathmatch this Sunday is sure to be a classic. Anyway, on with the show.

[Footage comes up of Tatsumi Hashimoto, as Tony begins voice-overing the action.]

Tony: Next match featured the Warriors of the Rising Sun agianst the new-comers - The Lost Boys. This match started off hard with the Lost Boys gaining the certain advantage. The match quickly spilled into the crowd, and actually worked its way outside of the arena. A huge mob of fans followed the action, as Tatsumi begin smashing Gabriel’s head against a curb. Jin had control on Caleb as well, but focus turned to Tatsumi - who pulled out his sickle and stabbed Gabriel right in the neck with it. Blood began gushing out of Gabriel’s neck, who was quickly picked up by Caleb and escorted away from the fight. The match was ruled a draw, although the Warriors obviously won the war.

[Tony reaches to the front of his desk, and grabs a VHS tape. He pops it in the VCR, and then says…]

Tony: Also, regarding the whereabouts of The Lost Boys, we have this message - from President Johnny Drake…

[Johnny Drake pops up on the TV screen, with a blue backround behind him. He’s weraing a tight black shirt and black jeans. He looks rather calm, but looks deprived of sleep as well. He wastes no time in addressing the camera.]

Johnny Drake: Alright, I’m not gonna bore you fans with more information on our TV deal, because the HWF will survive no matter what. What I do want to inform you of, is the recent quitting of The Lost Boys. For one reason or another, The Boys just didn’t think the HWF was right for them. I guess it had something to do with that sickle attack from Tatsumi, eh?

[Drake chuckles a little, and then continues…]

Johnny Drake: So, what to do with the Warriors for the PPV this Sunday. That’s right fans, Seven is STILL on for this Sunday night. We may be off TV for a week or two after that, but we still have out PPV deal!! Anyway, what to do with the Warriors… hmmm… Well, I guess the only logical spot in this PPV would be in the Tag Team Title match, right? Now, I don’t want to screw Angst or the Crew, so here’s what I’m going to do…

[Drake prepares himself, and then continues.]

Johnny Drake: I am going to put both Tatsumi and Jin in the Tag Title Match as impartial referees. They will have the final call on any pins, submissions, or knockouts - and they will reward the winners with the Tag Team Titles. If, and I mean IF, they keep themselves impartial - then they will receive a Tag Titles shot at the next Pay-Per-View ‘Parade of Cannibals 3’ coming to you live from Tokyo, Japan!! Also, it is my duty to inform you that The Lost Soul also no-showed Suicide this week, and his future in the compy looks bleek. Anyway, try to enjoy the rest of the show.

[Suddenly, the footage cuts to static, as the shot goes back to Tony. Tony, papers in hand still, continues.]

Tony: What an announcement by Drake!! And speaking of the Tag Titles, out next match featured one half of the Tag Team Champions - Chris Thrilla , going up against one of those men I nthe Tag Title match this Sunday - Billy Williams. Here’s what we saw before the match…

[ The camera cuts to the back, where we see the Wrecking Crew inside of a large locker room. Wildcat is lacing up his boots, while Raging Rickey Williams and Joanna stand beside him. Joanna in particular looks a bit worried. ]

Joanna: C'mon 'Cat! Are you positive you want to go at it like this?

Wildcat: This is my thing. I'm gonna go out there alone, and I'm gonna finish off Thrilla alone. You two will NOT come to ringside.

Rickey: What about Street Sindicate? Or Spike?

Wildcat: Keep an eye on me in the back. If you see any of 'em, then you can run out there, but if it's just Thrilla, then I'll handle this alone.

Joanna: Billy, we're all in this together...shouldn't we...

Wildcat: No. This is it right here. I got Spike, now it's Thrilla's turn.

[Wildcat kicks open the locker room door, and heads out of the room, leaving a worried Joanna and Rickey Williams in his wake. The camera cuts back to Tony behind his desk.]

Tony: Let’s get to the highlights…

[The footage on the screen cuts to the Thrilla/Williams match. Tony voice-overs the action as it happens on the screen.]

Tony: The match started off real hardcore. Thrilla quickly brought chairs into the match, only to get hit with them himself. Billy had complete control over this match throughout. That is, until Spike showed up. Let’s see what happened…

[Suddenly, a loud static guitar riff blasts over the PA system. Another one follows it. Drum cymbals accompany the third, and the fourth, and the fifth… until the full intro to “Rocket Science” by the Pimps begins to blare over the noise of the crowd. Spike slowly walks out, interrupting the match in the ring. He holds two chairs in on hand, and in the other is a microphone.]

Spike: Sorry for barging in like this… but I feel I have a few things that I need to take care of - things that involve not just me, but Teen Angst as a whole. Since Chris is having so much fun in the ring with Billy, I think I’ll just do this on my own. Guys, please, continue. The people paid to watch Billy Williams get his ass handed to him by one of the reigning tag team champions, Chris Thrilla. Chris already knows what I’m going to talk about, but Billy, since you don’t, Rickey’s going to have to take notes for you both, ‘cause I know he’s lost too many brain cells to remember on his own….

[Billy and Rickey look incensed, with Chris Thrilla taking a small breather in the corner. Billy shouts something at Rickey, sending him walking up the ramp to meet Spike at the entryway. Billy and Thrilla start up their match again, while Spike continues to speak.]

Spike: Rickey, don’t even bother coming up here - I have nothing to add to the match down below, and neither do any of the other members of the Street Syndicate. Surprise, surprise, boys, Teen Angst actually CAN win on their own, as we have proven time and time again. This will be no different then all those other times, so just keep your drunken ass by the ring, Dickey.]

[The action in the ring continues, as Spike speaks.]

Spike: Firstly… someone who’s been talking about us more than any normal person should be, considering we have very little to do with him… Michael Trey. Trey… you don’t even know what you’re talking about when it comes to us, or me in specific. I’m already up in the spotlight…? I’m the hypocrite…? Trey, where the fuck have I been every god damned week if I’m not up against you, or Sterling, or any of the others that have held their place on top of the hill? I’ve been stuck down near the bottom, opening matches alongside the Warriors of the Rising Sun, the Wrecking Crew, Tempest, Chris Davison, Chris Styles… while you and the rest of your “old school” HWF buddies sit up at the top and look down at us…

[Thrilla now gains control on Rickey, taking hi mdown with a double arm DDT.]

Spike: I never underestimate my opponents, Trey, and I damn sure have never underestimated you. If I did, Mike, why would I have spent so much fucking time concentrating on you when I’ve had more important things I needed to pay attention to? You’re just a fool who thinks that everyone is against him, when in reality, everyone isn’t trying to take you out… they’re trying to BE you. They’re trying to take your place in the HWF, so that people will give a rat’s ass about them. Right now, you’ve stuck yourself in a little room with no windows or a door, so that you can’t see what’s coming for you… likewise, what’s coming for you can’t see that you’re nothing but a scared, confused little man, and so, spend too much time trying to take you out then they really need to.

[Spike seems to be in his own world, as he continues speaking.]

Spike: Open your fucking eyes, Trey, and take a look around you. Maybe then you’ll finally see that you need to step down from your throne atop the HWF, and give up your crown on your own, because sooner or later… someone more deserving will take it from you by force if you don’t. Take Phoenix, for example. Looks what he’s doing now. He’s dismantling you… he’s humiliating you… he’s making a mockery of everything you’ve done. And what do you do…? You take the punishment, and you keep going. Give it up, Trey, you’re next to dead if you keep trying to prove something you’ve proven time and time again in the past… underestimation? I think not. Common sense, Trey… Common fucking sense.

[Williams throws Thrilla to the outside, and then goes after him. Spike continues.]

Spike: Now, off the topic of dying HWF legends… onto the Wrecking Crew. Boys, you really have the most going for you out of every other HWF superstar. You’re going up against Teen Angst, the tag team champions, and you’re getting a glimpse of the spotlight alongside us. Last week on Suicide, you tried to take a little too much of that spotlight from us… that’s not going to happen again. As long as we have something to live for, you’re never going to get the best of us. That’s a fucking promise.

[Billy looks up at Spike, but then focuses back on Thrilla. He throws him into the apron as Spike continues yet again.]

Spike: Now Rickey, since Billy’s busy with Thrilla… I’ll be talking to you. A few weeks ago, when you thought Teen Angst would have to resort to getting outside help in order to take your asses out of that Hell Over High Water match, you called for help, in an attempt to counter the rest of the Street Syndicate. They didn’t show up, did they? No… and guess what? We kept our titles, just like we said we would. Now, in order to calm your alcohol induced rage, I’ll do a favor for you… eh, buddy, it’s your turn.

[Emerging from the locker room is… non-other than Mayhem! A small pop greets his presence, as Spike tosses him one of the chairs he brought with him. Mayhem takes the chair, unfolds it and takes a seat on the opposite side of the ramp from Spike.]

Spike: See Rickey, this is just to show you that I don’t need the rest of the Street Syndicate to take care of my problems… he’s here to protect to two shitheads from a threat that won’t show up, thanks to me. I’ve asked the rest of the Syndicate to stay in the back, to prove that Chris and I have never needed anyone to fight our battles for us.

[Billy throws Thrilla back into the ring, but is stomped when he tries to get in. Rickey stays on the outside of the ring, not making a move.]

Spike: Crew… when you and Joanna had your fun last week towing me away, you’d better have savored every fucking second. You left me with a little gift…

[Spike pulls a large steel chain out of his pocket, wrapping it around his right arm.]

Spike: You gave me a nice, shiny new toy to beat the fuck out of you with. Bad move… Rest assured, Rickey, I’ll go through YOU, I’ll go through BILLY, and I’ll go through anyone else that gets in my way…

[Rickey doesn’t move towards Spike still, so Spike continues.]

Spike: So Rickey, if you want a piece of me… I’d advise you to get it right now, before I have time to think about how much I could beat the fuck out of you with this chain…

[This last line brings Rickey into action. He charges up the ramp at Spike, raising his fists to pound on one half of the tag team champions. Spike unravels a few feet of the chain and swings it at Rickey’s head, smacking him in the face. Rickey stumbles back, looking over at Mayhem, shouting at him.]

Spike: What Rickey? Are you surprised that Mayhem isn’t trying to help you? Maybe I should have mentioned that he’s here only to prevent the other members of the Street Syndicate to interfere… if it’s one on one, he’s not going to do a damn thing. If Jon Storm or Chris Styles happen to show up… it’s a different story. But for now… it’s just me, you, and this little chain…

[Spike snaps the chain, hitting Rickey in the ribs. Spike is quick to capitalize, wrapping the chain around Rickey’s arms and neck, putting him in a full nelson. He twists the rest of the chain around Rickey’s throat, wrapping him up tightly. Rickey is immobilized from the shoulders up, with Spike still holding the chain tight. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a padlock, snapping it shut around the two ends of the chain, locking Rickey’s body in the awkward and vulnerable position. Rickey tries to charge Spike, but Spike ducks and drops Rickey with a drop toe-hold. Rickey is stuck, face down on the ramp, but Spike picks him back up by the chain. He drags Rickey along by the chain over to the edge of the top of the ramp. He leans Rickey’s head over the side of the ramp, forcing him to look down at the electrical equipment.]

Spike: Take a look Rickey… next thing you’ll see is a doctor flashing a light in your eye.

[Spike shoves Rickey off the edge of the ramp, sending him crashing through the electrical equipment 15 feet down! Rickey lays in the middle of a few tables and cables, still tied up with the chain. Sparks off of the electronics fly all over the place. The chains, being steel, conduct the electricity and nearly fry Rickey Williams! The footage continues, as Tony now voice-overs once again.]

Tony: From there, Thrilla began cheering Spike on from inside the ring - only to be hit with a steel chair in the back of the head and rolled up for the pin. That’s right, Billy Williams defeated one half of Teen Angst!! What momentum going into this Sunday at Seven.

[The footage cuts out, and is replaced with footage from the Davison/Sterling vs. Rykopathe/Stalker match. Tony immedately begins speaking as the footage starts.]

Tony: Now, before we get to this match, let’s show you an altercation which happened earlier in the night…

[The HWF cameras cut backstage. Focus in on Chris Davison, who is already in his wrestling attire and waiting for the right moment. Davison walks around a corner, and almost runs right into his partner this evening, Lance Sterling. Sterling looks at Davison, and sneers at him. Davison raises a lone eyebrow.]

Davison: Oh, its you.

Sterling: I was just gonna say the same thing... you ready, boy?

[Davison looks Sterling over.]

Davison: First of all, I'm not boy. It's "Chris," or "Davison," but don't call me "boy" again. And second, yeah, I'm ready. Are you?

Sterling: Yeah, I'm all set.... Chris. Just remember what I told you. This is my vendetta, not yours. As far as I'm concerned, you're just along for the ride. I'm not gonna deny that you have the skill to succeed, 'cause fact is, you do. But if you aren't careful, I'll drop you just as fast as I'll drop Rykopathe.

[Davison raises an eyebrow with a grin, smiling sarcastically.]

Davison: I'll be sure to watch my step.

Sterling: Good, then everything's perfect. Now let's go and get this bullshit over with.

Davison: For once... agreed.

[Both men pause for a second before shaking each other's hands. The screen flashes as the camera cut to later in the night. The cameras backstage show Chris Davison stretching as he heads down the hallway. Suddenly, from off camera, Silky shoots in with a thunderous chair shot!]

Tim: What the hell is Silky doing? He's not even scheduled to be here tonight!

Jeff: Hah! He's just givin' the what for to that panty waist Davison! He shoulda shut his mouth, and saved all that dirty talkin' for his phone service!

[Silky brings the chair down accross Davison's skull, then twice to the flat off his back before dropping it, and leaning against the wall for support as he kicks and stomps away on Chris' body.]

Silky: I'm in god damned charge here! Me! you ain't sh*t in this fed! You're nothin'! Here me?!? NOTHIN'!!!

[Silky drops his fist accross the side of Chris' face, driving him flat to the floor, then kicks his hand out when he attempts to lift himself. Silky spits on him, and steps out of the shot. Chris coughs, a little blood spattering out of the corner of his mouth.]

Tim: That was inhuman! Silky is like some feral animal! He should be fined!

Jeff: Are you kiddin' me? That was friggin' AWESOME! That's entertainment kiddies!

Tim: It's a wonder Chris is even attempting to stand... OH NO!!!

[Just as Davison forces himself to his feet, using a window sill to steady himself, Silky comes flying back into view with a shuffle side kick, sending Chris through the plate glass window behind him!]

Jeff: Holly SHIT! "Silky Shuffle" right through that goddamned window! Davison is SO dead!

Tim: Shut up, Jeff, you heartless bastard! Good God, ladies and Gentlemen, we have to go to a commercial! Somebody do something!

[As we cut away to commercial, the cameras backstage show one more clip of Davison laid out on the broken glass, and Silky walking back toward the exit, still taunting and laughing maniacally.]

Silky: See you at Se7en, sweetheart! Hahahahaa!!!

[The footage cuts out but then cuts to the back to find Zakin and Gavin throwing lefts and rights at each other. They're currently in the parking garage and seem to be back up towards the garage doors. Gavin begins to knock Zakin back towards the doors with a series of rights but Zakin suddenly drops backwards and grabs a hold of Gavin's shirt, hurling Gavin headfirst at the doors!! Gavin connects with a huge thud, and drops to his knees, leaving an imprint on the tall steel door. Zakin jumps to his feet, while turning 180 to see Gavin rising to his feet quickly. Zakin shuffles his feet and delivers a Huge Shadow Kick to Gavin's Chest! Gavin gets slammed up to the garage door and hits the floor hard. Zakin tries to follow up by kicking Gavin in the mid section but Coens grabs a hold Zakin's foot and trips him to the ground. He then jumps on top and they begin to hit the fistacuffs once more. The footage goes back to Tony.]

Tony: What a jumbled mess the locker room has become, there’s fighting everywhere. Ah well, on with the show. Next up is the tag match…

[The footage continues with the tag match, mentioned before. Tony chimes in as he voice-overs the highlights.]

Tony: Surprisingly, in this match, Davison and Sterling worked pretty well together. Both teams went back and forth, but Sterling and Davison had more chemistry. Interestingly enough, a man in a black hooded robe came out from the back and stood in the entranceway for the entire match. He looked kinda like a monk, or one of those weird ass priest dudes from the end of the Mortal Kombat movie. You couldn't see his face at all; only like the bottom of his chin, and some of his neck. Eventually, Stalker and Davison paired off in a corner. Stalker reached into his pocket and produced a pair of brass knuckles. He spied Davison sitting, winded against the buckles. He walked over toward Davison with the knucks on his fist, as Lance continued started to beat on Rykopathe in the center of the ring. Davison tried to attack Stalker but got a knee to the gut for his efforts. Stalker squared up to Davison and pulled back his reinforced fist, and knocks a passing Sterling directly between the eyes. Sterling fell holding his head as Stalker kneeled, picked up Sterling by the head and got a few more shots in. He stood again, looked and Davison, and flashed a wicked smile as he threw the knuckles out of the ring. Davison quickly got up and speared Stalker to the outside of the ring, where the two remained for the rest of the match. Sterling got up in the ring and awaited the rising Rykopathe. When he got up, Sterling dropped him with an Attitude Adjuster and got the three count. After the match, Sterling grabbed Rykopathe’s title and walked to the turnbuckle - holding the belt HIGH in the air.

[The footage cuts out.]

Tony: Before we get to the main event, let’s go to some more footage our backstage cameras poicked up.

[[Tempest stalks down the hall, glancing side yo side at the various doors, looking for the one marked as Commissioner Collins’. She takes a deep breath and raises her hand to knock, but then shakes her haed in frustration.]

Tempest: What am I doing? I don’t care if he wants to see me or not, dammit!

[She shoves the door open and Collins looks up, nearly falling off his chair, then stands with a nervous smile. She walks in and scowls at him over the desk.]

Shawn Collins: Tempest! Great to see you. To what do I owe...

Tempest: Save it Mr. Commish. Whadda you mean making a Kiss the Bride stipulation for the match with Silky and Chris?

[He starts to answer, but she interrupts.]

Tempest: Never mind what you thought! If you think I’m gonna stand by and be put up as a prize you got another thing coming! I am under contract as a wrestler here, Shawn, not as the booty of the week to be played with or handed out like a party favor.

[Shawn just smirks at Tempest calmly, not really saying anything. She gets a little enraged and then continues.]

Tempest: I may have obligations to this company, but being put up as a prize isn’t one of them. You don’t know what it’s like to be traded or won in a bet like an animal. I won’t submit to this. You force this stip and you’ll lose one of your best new stars because I’ll walk. I don’t pretend to be the whole reason for the HWF’s success, but I know the ratings have only gone up since I got here and I know I’m a part of that at least. And I do have faith in Chris, but I have none in Silky. So the question is simply, should I have any in you?

[The footage cuts out, and then cuts back to the boiler room where Zakin and Coens are still fighting. Zakin has Coens by the shirt and throws him against the wall with a sickening crack! Gavin drops to his kness quickly and nails a low blow!! (that didn't sound good did it?). Zakin doubles over in pain and Gavin rises to his feet and nails a double axe handle to knock him back to the ground. Gavin then picks Zakin up vertically and positions his back about 5 feet in front a pipe emerging from the floor and leading to the roof. Gavin then drops backwards and delivers a fall-away slam sending Zakin's back directly into the pole!! A loud bang is heard as Zakin bounces his back off the pipe and hits the concrete hard. Gavin sits up and begins to get to his feet...]

Gavin: Yea, and now you know not to fuck things up when Gavin Coens is doing you a favor. You should be so lucky that I...

[Zakin suddenly jumps up and spears Coens down to the concrete floor, as the begin to trade blows again! Suddenly Gavin's face freezes, contorted in a grimace of agony. Zakin looks at him strangely just as a *phoosh* sound is heard, followed by a giggle. His eyes flutter closed for a moment as he groans. The camer pans around until it finds Tempest with a Super Soaker in hand and a devilish groin pasted on her face.]

Tempest: C'mon Zakin, it's gotta be better than vinegar in the eyes.

[Both men turn to Tempest looking furious and start to advance toward her, albeit a bit stiffly. Tempest backs away with an innocent expression.]

Tempest: Hey, c'mon guys... What's a little ice water in the drawers between friends? Huh? Guys?

[She looks nervously between the two as the camera pans down slightly to see that indeed she had soaked them both in the pants with the water gun. She backs away and then turns and bolts down a hall, partly laughing, partly screaming, as Zakin and Coens dash after her. The footage cuts back to Tony.]

Tony: Now, we actually have most of the main event in it’s entirety… Let’s go to that right now…

[Back from commercials... the camera pans over the arena, showing a crew vigorously raising the ring for the main event. The Lion's Den is almost completely assembled and the ring above is starting to take shape. We cut to Jeff and Tim while we wait for the crews to finish.]

Tim: Well, Jeff, you about ready for this main event?

Jeff: Not really. This thing is freakin' insane.

Tim: Come on, you loved the King of Violence match between Saint and Trey...

Jeff: Yeah... but that's cuz I wanted to see them both hit the flames!

Tim: Alright, allow me to explain this match for the viewers at home. This match, concieved in June by Michael Trey, is named a Burn in Hell match. Begin with a traditional Gates of Hell set-up: Lion's Den with a ring on top. Inside the ring are two metal gates which open to the den below.

Jeff: Here's where the differences begin. In a normal Gates of Hell match, the den is an inferno. In a Burn in Hell match, it is merely an inferno waiting to happen. There are massive amounts of lighter fluid, gasoline, C-4, and numerous other flammable materials that have been put in the den. If even a tiny spark hits the inside of the Lion's Den, we'll see large flames ignite in seconds and a tremendous explosion within seconds.

Tim: Back in the ring, there are a few more additions. In each corner are open containers of gasoline, and in each turnbuckle is a removable three-foot long torch. These four torches are lit at the beginning of the match. The goal?

Jeff: To kill someone.

Tim: Besides that... the goal is to light your opponent on fire in the ring above and then toss them down into the den below, which will in turn ignite one hell of a mess.

Jeff: It looks like they're about ready to get this thing underway. ~ I feel safe...
~ I feel scared...
~ I feel ready...
~ And yet I regret the world is not enough...

[The UNKLE remix of "The World Is Not Enough" begins to play, as the masses of fans get to their feet loudly. Silver lights flicker over the arena, adding to the already eerie vibes. Michael Trey steps out into the entrance wearing street attire: a black pair of jeans, tight white t-shirt under a black leather coat, and backwards black UNC fitted cap, complete with a slick pair of silver Ray-Bans. He strolls down to ringside. He pauses and takes a mike from a ringside attendant. Trey carefully climbs into the den through the bars of steel that crisscross the structure and reaches a rope ladder that the crew has hung down from the gates. He climbs up into the ring and waves the ring techs to leave so he can talk. The two young men climb down and out of the ring while Michael speaks.]

Michael: Phoenix. The Beast. My Beast. Your Beast. Everyone. No one. His Fault. My Fault. He tells the truth. He lies. Never. Always. Maybe. Maybe... Maybe you need to take some medication, because Phoenix, for the first time, you sound more messed up than me. A difficult task, no doubt. This week, I searched and concentrated on what makes you tick. The TRUTH. The fucking goddamned truth. You know what I learned from you and Chris Thrilla's promos? You know what I learned from my brother's research? I learned that all of you seem to believe that the truth is relative. If YOU believe it, that's good enough, right?

Michael: So Phoenix, go on believing that you're some monster that I created and now it's your job to take my place. Go ahead. But realize that you are wrong. You aren't ALWAYS wrong, Phoenix. You're just wrong right now. You think a single person in this "new generation" actually asked you to carry your so called burden, then you're wrong. Even worse, many of them don't WANT you to be their new poster boy. Phoenix... you saw something which wasn't there. Sure, I'm sure there are people who wouldn't mind you being a star; I used to be one of them. But not everyone in the so called "younger generation" agrees with you.

[Pause. Thinks for a moment. Raises mike again.]

Michael: And you know something Phoenix? You did it again. Once again, you misinterpreted my words. By going through our history earlier tonight and saying that I have eliminated every match we've had as important.... no. In fact, you should realize that many of them have shown who is the better competitor. Reckless Behavior... I practically had the match won, until the DQ. I will admit, and have never denied the fact, that that match was incredible. But if you take an objective look... I was winning. Maybe I didn't WIN, but all points indicate I would have. Our little stable match a month ago? Hell, that was barely even a match. Of course, if you want to beg off on that one because of Jeff's interference, that's fine. After that... ah. The match in which it took 4 men to beat me. Phoenix, what does that say to you? Would you really expend the efforts of FOUR men to beat ONE if that one man was washed up and on the downslide? I'd doubt it. Anyone who was in that arena knows that I held up beyond what could be expected of someone in a one on four situation. And finally.. Flames of Phoenix. Well, Phoenix, you again show just how blind you are. Understand me, Phoenix... I was centimeters from being PARALYZED only a week before that match. I was cut open for surgery a WEEK BEFORE that match. You... you, on the other hand, spent this week in the burn ward. Painful, sure, but do you know how many weeks I've spent in the burn ward? Of course you do. I've got my own room. I wasn't trying to downplay the match because of an injury, I was downplaying the match because I shouldn't have been WALKING at the time.

Jeff: Coward.

Tim: Shut the FUCK up!

Michael: But I'm one helluva a nice guy, Phoenix. I want to settle once and for all just WHO is the cornerpiece of this company, the man who embodies hardcore's future. You... or me? I really wouldn't give a damn if we coexisted, Phoenix, but you seem dead set on either destroying me or being destroyed. So who will it be, Phoenix? YOU... or me. I don't die easily, Phoenix. I don't disappear easily. Sure, you might make me disappear for a couple weeks, but when I come back for revenge... you'll fucking feel it. And Phoenix, just so you know... at Seven, I'm coming back to get what is mine: my honor, my pride, my place... and my life.

Michael: So, Phoenix... I accept your Hell on Earth match. How appropriate. That is your one chance to prove to me and the entire world that you have arrived, that you are on MY level. But this week, I'm still going to give you a taste of what's coming next week. In shorter words... get your toasty ass back out here, NOW!

["Underachiever" by Pitchshifter blasts through the arena again, and the crowd turns to look at the Extream Screen entrance area. No one enters, and the crowd shifts back to look at Michael. He yells a few words towards the entrance. A spotlight quickly shines into the rafters... it's Phoenix, swinging down on a rope! He FLIES downward, holding a flaming chair that he slams into Michael's skull, very reminiscent of Trey's shot to Lost Soul a month ago.]

Tim: PHOENIX FROM THE RAFTERS!

Jeff: Holy shit, they heard that hit all the way in the concessions stands!

[Trey instantly collapses backwards, nearly to the gates, still left open from earlier. The microphone skitters towards Phoenix, who rolled to his feet and is dislodging the gear from his body.]

Jeff: Michael is DOWN and OUT!

[Phoenix tosses the gear off himself and grabs the microphone.]

Phoenix: Let's go, master. Get to your fuckin' feet and face your mistake like a man.

[Michael still is sprawled on the mat limply. Phoenix drops the mike and moves toward Michael, kicking his shoulder to get a reaction. Michael springs into action, moving his arm and catching Phoenix's leg and sweeping it from under him. Phoenix drops back and hits his head on the microphone, a loud FZZZBZZZT sounding over the speakers.]

Jeff: AHHHHH MUTHERFUCKING GODDAMN SHIT HURTS LIKE YOUR MOMMA DAMN FUCK ASS BITCH OUCH!

Tim: .... OW! Sorry fans, that hit to the microphone set up some nasty reverb in our headsets.

[Jeff has removed his headset and is massaging his ear. Meanwhile, both Phoenix and Michael are to their feet. Michael ducks a punch by Phoenix and kicks him in the side repeatedly, almost martial-arts style. Phoenix stumbles backwards, almost towards the gates, then grabs Michael's leg and flips him onto his back. Phoenix grabs a torch from the turnbuckle and turns to Michael, swinging it wildly and cracking Trey on the shoulder. Michael backs up, right into the corner. Phoenix jabs him in the chest with the torch again. Somehow, the flame stays lit. Phoenix grabs the container of gas and tosses it onto Michael's abdominal area. Phoenix then backs up and takes a golf swing in an altered version of "Innocense Lost" and nails Trey right in the groin with the torch. As Michael goes up in flames, he crouches down, rolling in pain. Phoenix drags Trey over towards the middle, but instead of throwing him below, Phoenix shuts the gates. Michael continues rolling, eventually getting the flames out. Meanwhile, Phoenix jumps back against the ropes and dives, holding the torch like a sword almost, thrusting it down towards Trey's gut. Michael rolls out of the way and the last second, and Phoenix's torch busts THROUGH the ring mat and gets stuck, upright in the ring and unlit. Phoenix's hands were hurt and he stumbles, holding them. Trey gets to his feet and as Phoenix turns, Trey nails a Flash of Pain double arm DDT, right on the gates! They creak, wanting to let go, but hold. Trey stands and grabs another container of gasoline, dousing Phoenix in it. He then grabs a torch from a turnbuckle and lights Phoenix up. In similar fashion to the last Burn In Hell match, Trey climbs up and screams "Lights out!". The lights cut out and you see only Phoenix, burning on top of the gates. Then you hear an impact... lights come back on, and it looks like Phoenix moved! Phoenix gets the flames extinguished and Trey gets to his feet. Phoenix's eyes are burning, visibly pissed off.]

Phoenix: JUST DIE ALREADY...

[Tim and Jeff turn behind them, and see Bisc Li standing right behind them at ringside. He holds a finger to his mouth, so they don't say anything. Back in the ring, Phoenix grabs Michael by the hair and drags him over the gates again. Phoenix locks up and twists, nailing his Into The Ashes inverted impact DDT right on the gates! More creaking, and Phoenix leaps over and onto the turnbuckle. Phoenix grabs the torch from this turnbuckle and lights himself back on fire. He screams "FUCK YOU" and dives off in Michael's own Lights Out moonsault! Michael moves at the last second though, and Phoenix hits the gates! They bust open and Phoenix falls through... but grabs onto the gate at the very last second! Michael rolls, holding his head. Phoenix slowly tries to climb the gate, but its starting to tear at the hinges. Michael gets to his feet and sees Phoenix's predicament. He grabs another gasoline container and the microphone. Just as Phoenix gets his fingertips up onto the ring, Trey is standing over him.]

Michael: If *I* made you.... I can and WILL fucking break you, Phoenix.

[Phoenix looks up into Michael's eyes, which are pure hatred. Trey dumps the gasoline onto Phoenix, simultaneously stomping his hands, making Phoenix go up in huge flames as he falls into the den below. Bisc Li is alright down there though, with a fire extinguisher! He sprays Phoenix very very quickly, stopping the spread of any fire!]

Tim: Damnit! This sucks! Phoenix just got saved by his owner.... he should have gone up in flames!

Jeff: Go Li Go!

[Bisc slings Phoenix's arm over his shoulder, dragging him out of the den, squeezing through the metal bars to escape. They get to the top of the aisle and stop, turning to Michael. Bisc pulls a mike out of his pocket.]

Bisc: You and I Michael, we have barely started... but Hell on Earth at Seven, that settles it between you and Phoenix... for good.

[Michael screams some stuff up at Bisc and Phoenix, who is now standing under his own power. Suddenly, the cameras cut back to the den. It looks like Bisc didn't extinguish everything! Some smolder must have been left, because a little flame is going! Everyone nearest to ringside dives backwards, trying to escape. Michael is trapped inside the ring... the flames spread, and as they reach the explosives inside, a huge explosion rocks the ring area... The footage suddenly cuts back to Tony. Tony reaches the end of his stack of papers, and turns the TV off. He takes another deep breath, and then finishes off the show.]

Tony: Well, that’s our show… Once again fans, I apologize for the inconvinience of this broadcast, for those of you who are seeing this. We’re still in a battle with our TV provider, which will go un-named for now. Be sure to check out Seven this Sunday night, it’s sure to be a classic!! From all of us here at the HWF, thanks for tuning in.

[Tony leans back in his chair, and begins to take off his mic set. A small promo runs for the PPV -Seven. Suddenly, the footage cuts out and all that’s left is black.]