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March 31st, 2001

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[6:49 pm | The Aomori Budokan, Hirosaki Japan]

[The scene fades in, and the words "Earlier Tonight" appear in the lower-right corner of the screen. It shows the parking garage of the The Aomori Budokan, and a car pulls into the shot, and continues moving forward. It slows down, and pulls into a parking spot. The driver's side door opens, and out steps Chris Davison. He looks around some, then closes the door. He opens the back door, reaches in, grabs a gym bag, and closes that door too. Chris leaves the car, and walks towards the entrance to the building. After he walks through the doors, the camera pans all the way around to the left, and leaning up against a pillar, you see the figure of someone, but can't make out who it is. The camera sits there on the figure for a moment, then finally fades to black.]

[6:57]

[The camera flickers in, showing the newly-crowned 4-time HWF champion, Lance Sterling, standing backstage next to the HWF's prize announcer, Nigel Rolston. Sterling does NOT look happy at all; he eyes Nigel with a "You fucked up" look on his face.]

Sterling: Nigel, old buddy.. old pal. We got a problem.

Nigel: What's that?

Sterling: At Seven, you said I was a "former two-time tag team champion", when I'm the ONLY THREE TIME TAG TEAM CHAMPION! So, I'm giving you fair warning: Don't fuck up again tonight. Announce me just like I told you, or you'll end up worse than Rykopathe. Get it?

Nigel: ...Got it.

Sterling: Excellent...

[The screen fades out to black and then pops back on inside of The Aomori Budokan in Hirosaki, Japan. "Dig" by Mudvayne blasts through the PA ssytem of the small arena, as the camera pans around at the 1,000 or so Japanese fans in attendance. The fans are giving a standing ovation, as the show begins to open. The camera cuts to the ring for Tim and Jeff, only to find them not in the ring - but already at ringside. The cameras cut to the announce table, where you see Tim dressed casually and Jeff in a mock Karate-gi. Jeff bows in his chair to the camera as Tim rolls his eyes. The music slowly fades out, as Tim begins to speak to the crowd at home.]

Tim: Hello HWF fans and welcome to Saturday Suicide!! We're coming to you live this week from Japan, as part of a new international promotional tour... I'm Tim Miller...

Jeff: And I am Jeff "Land of the Rising Crotch" ... Robinson!!

[Jeff stands up and dances in celebration, although the fans didn't even hear him.]

Tim: Sit down Jeff!!

[Jeff does so, as Tim continues.]

Tim: For fans in Japan who do not understand the English language, the HWF has financed for Japanese subtitles throughout the whole show. These titles will be seen at home, and on the Extream Screen...

Jeff: Poopshooting Elephant fuckers!!

Tim: WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT!?!

[Jeff points up to the Extream Screen, where the words of what he just said pop up in Japanese. A stir comes over the crowd as they read it.]

Jeff: *laughing* I always wanted to see what the Japanese equivalent to that is.

Tim: God dammit... I know you're gonna get us kicked out of this country...

[Tim is cut off by Nigel Rolston.]

Nigel Rolston: Ladies and gentlemen, at this time would please welcome the only three-time HWF tag team champion and the first ever 4-time world's champion... the man, the myth, the legend - Lance Sterling!

[Over the PA system, the Victory Parade from the movie Ben Hur starts to play. Very slowly, a palanquin carrying HWF champion, Lance Sterling, emerges from the curtains. Sterling lounges back, wearing a white toga and a laurel wreath on his head and, of course, holding the HWF title. He looks pretty impressive for a Caesar-ripoff. The crowd greets him with a mixed reaction, some booing while others cheer him on. The palanquin stops at ringside and Sterling jumps off. He walks slowly up the steps to the ring and climbs in before standing in the center of the ring. He nods to Nigel, and takes the microphone as the victory music fades.]

Sterling: Friends... HWF fans... countrymen, lend me your ears! Last Sunday night, I broke aside all barriers and I became a living, breathing legend; The ONLY man to hold the HWF world title four times. Now, I stand before all of you, and I invite each and every one of you to bask in my glory. Once again, now and forever, I AM THE GREATEST!

[The crowd roars a little at the catch-phrase.]

Sterling: But there's more. On Sunday, J. Simon Rykopathe thought that he could finish me off for good. He thought that he would be the one man who could say that he ended my career. Instead, what happened? I ended HIS career. I finished what was started at May Mayhem, and I put that son of a bitch out of his misery. Then we have Vic Williams, the high and mighty Vic Williams, make his return and he has the balls to give ME a warning? Vic, who are you kidding? We all know how you work: You come back, say some nonsense, then vanish for another few months before doing the same thing over and over again. You know what? You should be out here right now kissing my feet for doing what I did to Rykopathe. I did everyone a goddamn favor by doing that, and I hope the bastard rots in Hell!

[The crowd roars again, this time in anger. A lot of boos are heard echoing down at Sterling, who just shrugs it off.]

Sterling: What I said is the truth. Rykopathe was the scum of the earth. I should be considered a hero for what I did to him. I should-

[Before he can finish, "Intro" by DMX blasts over the PA system. Sterling's head snaps towards the entry ramp, meeting the eyes of the HWF President himself, Johnny Drake. Drake saunters down to the ring, looking like a million bucks. He climbs in and looks at Sterling. Sterling has around 4 inches height advantage on Drake, and around 30 pounds of muscle. Sterling scoffs and shoulders the HWF title.]

Sterling: To what do I owe THIS honor, Johnny?

Johnny Drake: Lance, first of all let me congratulate you on your fourth HWF title victory. You went all out at Seven, and you defeated J. Simon Rykopathe. I am truly impressed... HOWEVER, what you did to him after the match... that was uncalled for, Lance.

Sterling: What are you talking about? He deserved it!

Johnny Drake: To you, maybe he did deserve a quote-unquote Gigabomb off the ramp - but he didn't deserve back and spinal damage which, no doubt, means the end of his illustrious career. How the hell can you feel good about that?

Sterling: Simple, Johnny. Because I'm Lance Sterling, and as long as I hold this title, I'm the fucking man.

Johnny Drake: That brings me to the next issue. You earned a win at Seven, but your post-match actions were deplorable... Because of that, Lance.. you leave me with no other choice but to strip you of the HWF title, and declare it vacant!

Tim: He's WHAT?!?

Jeff: He can't do that to the greatest!

Tim: Jeff, he's the President. He can do whatever he damn well pleases.

[Back in the ring, Sterling looks appalled at Drake's words.]

Sterling: You gotta be fucking kidding me!

Johnny Drake: No, I'm not fucking kidding you, Lance. Effective immediatly, the HWF title is declared vacant and there will be a tournament to crown the NEW HWF champion.

Sterling: Fine. Take the fucking belt, Drake.

[Sterling throws the HWF title across the ring and turns his back on Drake.]

Sterling: You know, Drake.... I'm not mad at you. You did what you felt you had to do. But... I have just two words to say to you.

Johnny Drake: Oh yeah? ... What's that?

Sterling: .... FUCK YOU!

[Lightning-fast Sterling turns around and catches Drake right in the jaw with his patented superkick, "Hollywood Hangover"! Drake drops like a ton of bricks.] Tim: Son of a bitch! Lance Sterling just superkicked the President of the HWF!

Jeff: He... he knocked Drake out!

[Dope's "Debonaire" hits the PA system and Sterling climbs out of the ring. He turns around and starts to walk up the ramp while HWF officials run to the ring to tend to Drake. Drake comes to as Sterling reaches the top of the ramp, and he slowly gets to his feet.]

Johnny Drake: Lance, hey Lance!

[Sterling turns around.]

Johnny Drake: You think that's gonna stop me? Remember man, I used to be a regular in these rings... I can't legally fight back with my fists though, so I'll use my executive powers.

Tim: What does that mean!?!

Johnny Drake: Because of what you just did, you're not only fined $10,000, BUT you are BANNED from competiting in the tournament!

Tim: STERLING'S BANNED?!?

Jeff: Nooooooo!!!!!!!

[Sterling starts to mouth off silently at Drake before turning around and walking away.]

Tim: What the hell has just gone on here?!? Johnny Drake strips Sterling of the HWF title, and now he's banned from competing in the tournament to crown the new champion! Jesus...

Jeff: The world's gonna end. Drake's just ruined the happiest moment in the HWF!

Tim: Jeff.. you forget that Drake is your boss.

Jeff: No.. I know, but still he had no right to do that to the greatest!!

Tim: Well, he did it. Lance Sterling's now a FORMER 4-time HWF champion....I wonder what ELSE is going to happen.

[Johnny acts as if he's going to leave, but doesn't.]

Johnny Drake: Now, as for this tournament... We haven't worked out all the specifics, but Collins is gonna bring you the details on Commissioner's Corner this week. Be sure to check it out...

[Johnny grabs the HWF Title and throws it over his shoulder. "Intro" by DMX plays again as he slowly makes his way to the back.]

Tim: What was supposed to be a tag team Dumpster Match has now been changed into a singles match between Chris Davison and Silky Palms. What an interesting way to kick off Saturday Suicide here in Hirosaki, Japan!

[Chris has a look of rage in his eyes as he stares at Silky across the ring. Silky looks Chris up and down, then smiles. A slight chuckle comes from Silky, as he briefly rotates his head.]

Tim: Silky looks to have a pretty layed back attitude about this match.

Jeff: Good old Silky!

[Silky starts walking forward, as Chris yells out in anger and charges him head on!]

Jeff: Look out Silky!

[Silky's caught off guard, as Davison effectively spears him to the ground, and starts wailing on him. Landing punches all over, as Silky tries to block some with his hands and arms.]

Tim: Davison's snapped. This is supposed to be a wrestling match, not a New York beat down!

Jeff: Come on, Silk-o, retaliate!

[As if on cue, Silky then waits for Davison to reel his fist back once more. Chris does, and at that instant, Silky grabs his fist, pulls him down towards him, and meets him halfway with a headbutt.]

Tim: Well that stopped him.

[Davison grabs his forehead in pain and rolls off of Silky, as Silky slowly gets to his feet. He starts stomping on him some, then picks him up. Silky grabs Chris by the arm and whips him to the corner. He follows him in, and lands a clothesline. Silky starts to pummel Chris with multiple kicks to the gut, and then finishes with a back elbow to the side of Davison's head. Davison stumbles out of the corner, and keeps himself up with the ring ropes. Silky goes to continue the assault, but Chris reacts to his presence and lands a shot to his gut. He lands another, then another, and grabs the stunned Sexmachine. Chris then whips Silky to the ropes, and follows him over. As Silky rebounds off the ropes, Chris catches him with a clothesline which sends him over the top onto the floor.]

Tim: This match has been really back and forth so far.

Jeff: Let's go Silk-o, let's go! Let's go Silk-o, let's go!

Tim: God help me...

[Chris follows Silky out of the ring, and grabs him by his hair before he could get up. He yells something at him, then throws him HARD to the corner of the ring, as Silky smacks his face into the ring pole!]

Tim: Good lord! Did you hear Silky's head ricochet off that ring post?!

Jeff: Oh no Silk-o, oh no! Oh no Silk-o oh....

Tim: Will you shut the hell up!?

Jeff: ....kusotare.

Tim: Mune yu-shuushi engi douyou kouiu ato damu mesuinu!?

Jeff: Say WHAT?!?

Tim: Heh heh heh heh...

Jeff: What the hell'd you say???

[By this time, Davison has Silky up, and is laying punches to him while Silky has his back up against the ring apron over by the announcer's table. Silky blocks a punch, and retaliates with one of his own. Chris stumbles back a bit, then Silky lays another punch to him. Silky goes to whip Davison towards the ring, but pulls him back towards him. Silky then drops down with a toe hold as Chris smacks his jaw on the announce table.]

Tim: Ouch!

[Davison reels back quickly, holding his mouth. Silky starts stomping on him as he lay on the ground, then he walks over to the time keeper's table and grabs the ring bell.]

Jeff: Silky's going for that bizell!

Tim: Bizell?

Jeff: Stay in the right timeline, Tim.

Tim: Kisu mai ketsunoana.

Jeff: HUH?!?

Tim: Problem?

Jeff: I'm tired of your sh...

[DING!]

Tim: Woah!

Jeff: What was that?

[That, was the sound of the ring bell resounding off of Chris Davison's skull. Davison drops to the ground once more, as Silky drop the bell and slides into the ring. He raises his hands to the Hirosaki fans, and they clap for him.]

Jeff: Only a clap? What kinda wack ass fans ARE these, anyway??

Tim: That's how they show their appreciation here, Jeff. They're not as..... nuts, as the fans in the States.

Jeff: To say the least...

[Silky shrugs, then leans up against the corner.]

Tim: What's Silky doing???

Jeff: Isn't it obvious? He's getting his spirit meter back. If he keeps this up, while Davison's losing it, he'll have his special. All he has to do is tap the stick.

Tim: ....WHAT?

[Silky walks over to the ropes on the side with the dumpster, and lifts up the lid. He starts looking inside for things to use, while on the outside, Davison's slowly starting to stand. The camera zooms in on his face, and you can clearly see that he is bleeding from his forehead right above his hairline, and on the inside of his mouth.]

Jeff: Damn, Davison's just a blood factory!

[He looks over, and grabs Jeff's bottled water off the announce table.]

Jeff: Hey!

[Chris makes a backhand motion to Jeff, and Jeff jumps. Davison glares at him, then takes off the bottle cap and pours the water over his head.. washing off most of the blood on his face and also cooling him off. Davison walks over and motions for Jeff to get out of his chair. Reluctant at first, Jeff gets up slowly. Davison grabs the chair and slides back in the ring. Silky turns around and is LEVELED by Davison with the steel chair. Silky crumples like a sack of potatoes, as Davison continues to pound on him. Silky rolls out of the ring to get a breather, and get away from Chris. Davison simply props himself up in the corner, waiting for Silky to come back inside.]

Tim: Davison is just BRUTAL here tonight!

Jeff: The man has class. I like him! Not more than Silky, of course but still.. I give credit where credit is due.

Tim: Right....

[Finally, Silky slides back in the ring. Davison comes after him, but Silky ducks out of harm's way and, as Davison turns around, stuns him with a kick. Davison drops the chair and Silky uses the advantage to whip Davison into the ropes. Silky drops to the floor, and Davison jumps over him and bounces off the opposite corner. Silky jumps up, turns around, and nails a dropkick. He quickly locks his arm around the back of Davison's head and drives him backwards in a side Russian legsweep before picking up the chair. Davison sweep kicks Silky, tripping him up, and both men get to their feet. Collar-and-elbow tieup, as Silky sets Davison in a front facelock and lifts him up for a suplex. Chris prevents it, and lifts Silky up in the air, stalling for a few seconds before jumping down and impacting Silky's head against the mat. Davison falls down and both men start breathing heavily.]

Tim: Lethal Injection!

Jeff: Hahaha he's exhausted from the move! Silky has him beat!

Tim: Jeff, shut up. Its not over until one of them is thrown in the dumpster.

[Davison is first back on his feet, with Silky following a second later. Davison stalls suddenly, and Silky manages to seize the advantage and low blows Davison. Silky follows with a knee to Davison's stomach, then whips him into the turnbuckle, following behind. Davison propels himself up and over, landing behind Silky, and hoists him up and then down with a German suplex. Davison whips Silky into the ropes nearest to the dumpster, and clotheslines him up, over the ropes and into the dumpster. Silky scrambles to climb out before Davison can shut the lid, and crawls back into the ring. Both Silky and Davison start to trade blows back and forth, neither one getting a distinct advantage. Silky blocks a right hand and grabs a handful of Davison's hair, throwing him over the top rope and into the dumpster. This time, Davison climbs out before Silky can close the lid.]

Tim: This is great! Its anybody's game right now!

Jeff: Meh. SIL-KY! SIL-KY!

Tim: Is there anyone you like better than Silky Palms?

Jeff: Of course. Lance Sterling!

Tim: Oh yeah...

[With both men back in the ring, Silky has the advantage. He runs and climbs to the top rope as Chris regains his senses. Silky jumps off and goes for his "Silk Sensation" flipping neckbreaker, but Chris thinks fast and grabs him, turning the move into a modified Falcon Arrow! Chris gets to his feet, and stumbles to the other side of the ring across from Silky, and falls to the mat. After a moment, both slowly get to their feet. Silky leans up against the ropes right in front of the dumpster. Chris runs at Silky, who ducks and back body drops Davison over the top rope and right into the dumpster. Silky leans through the ropes as Davison stands up, and _SLAMS_ the dumpster lid over his head. Davison drops down, probably bleeding from his forehead, as Silky nonchalantly drops the lid closed. The bell rings...]

Tim: Silky wins!

Jeff: I knew it!!

Tim: Oh shut up. Davison could be seriously hurt from that; the way Silky slammed down that lid, Davison could be busted wide open!

[Silky turns around and starts to celebrate his victory. He doesnt see the dumpster lid slowly rise up behind him, and Davison, who IS bleeding from his forehead, emerge slowly. He gets in the ring, behind Silky, and the second he turns around, Davison is waiting with a massive right hand. Silky is sent backwards and into the ropes. Davison kicks Silky in the stomach and DDTs him hard to the mat. The bell starts to ring several more times, as Davison continues to pound away at Silky. Several HWF officials make their way down to the ring, trying to pry Davison off of Silky. Davison breaks free and lunges, clotheslining Silky over the top and into the dumpster, before he finally rolls out of the ring and walks back up the ramp.]

Tim: Wow... a Pyrrhic victory for Silky Palms here tonight.

Jeff: A what?

Tim: It means that he won the battle, but might have just lost the war. If you ask me, Davison doesn't look like much of a loser now!

Jeff: If you ask me, yes he does!

Tim: But, Jeff.. who asked you?

[The camera quickly cuts back to the parking lot it was showing earlier in the night. The camera is specifically focused on the car that Chris Davison came to the arena in earlier.]

Jeff: Hey, that's Davison's car!

[You can hear footsteps, slightly getting louder each time you hear one. The camera pans down towards the lower part of the car, just as the owner of the footsteps comes into the shot. But because of the camera angle, you can't see above their waist. The person has on baggy black jeans, and black and red tennis shoes.]

Tim: Hey, who the hell is that?

[Just then, their hand drops down into the shot. The hand is wearing a black leather glove, and has a black shiny peice of metal in it.]

Jeff: What th...?

[With a quick flick of the wrist, the black peice of metal produces a metal blade.]

Tim: Hey, that's a switchblade!

[You hear a slight chuckle come from the individual, and you can now tell that it's a man. You then barely hear him say something..]

Voice: Chris Davison...

[After that is said, the camera slowly fades to black and goes to commercial.]

[Commercials]

[The camera's return from commercial, and it's showing Jeff and Tim sitting at the announcer's table.]

Tim: Did you see what just happened?! Some guy was at Chris Davison's car, with a SWITCHBLADE!

Jeff: Yeah! Who the hell is that guy???

Tim: Your guess is as good as mine. [Davison is seen backstage, and he's apparently searching for something. He looks over to a door, which states "Commissioner - Shawn Collins". He turns the knob and looks in, not bothering with knocking. Collins is leaning back at his desk, and he suddenly jerks in surprise of Davison's entry. Before he says a thing, Davison reaches over the desk and grabs him by the collar, hauling him up to look him in the eye.]

Chris Davison: Give me just one god damn reason why I shouldn't break you in half right now.

[Collins looks at Chris, seemingly puzzled.]

Shawn Collins: What? What did I miss?

[Davison throws him back in his seat.]

Chris Davison: You put me in that fucking Kiss the Bride match. You forced Tempest in it against her will. And if you can't provide one reason why you did that, you're going to need reconstructive surgery.

[Collins looks rather annoyed.]

Shawn Collins: I'll give you a reason. It's on this plate on my desk. It says 'C-O-M-M-I-S-S-I-O-N-E-R'!

[Davison leans close and looks Collins right in the eye.]

Chris Davison: Is the medical coverage for a commissioner THAT good?

Shawn Collins: Are you THREATENING me?

[Davison laughed, then looked Collins in the eye.]

Chris Davison: If you don't know for sure, let me convince you.

[He grabbed Collins by the shirt and glared at him with fury.]

Chris Davison: If you don't do something to rectify this situation, you will be doing your commissioner's job via satellite from a hospital of your choice, with both of your legs broken and in traction.

Shawn Collins: I think we can work something out, Chris... what is it that you want?

Chris Davison: I want this bullshit with Night Stalker to end. Kill whatever states that Tempest accompanies him to ringside.

Shawn Collins: Whoa! Whoa! I can't change any of that, and you know it. That's set in stone, man. Sorry. Now if you mind, I got some work to do. The door is over there.

[Davison looked to be reaching the end of whatever "patience" he had.]

Chris Davison: Perhaps you didn't hear me. I said... I want this bullshit with Night Stalker to end.

[Shawn straightens his tie, and lights a cigarette.]

Shawn Collins: And I said I can't do anything. Plain and simple.

[Davison leaned close, and spoke in an ominous confidential tone.]

Chris Davison: You made this match. You can do something about it. If you don't do something about this, I WILL be angry. And you wouldn't like me when I'm angry.

Shawn Collins: Well... what if I gave you a Canadian Title match next week on Suicide?

[Davison clenches his teeth as he speaks.]

Chris Davison: I'd say that I'm not asking for a title match.

[Tempest peers in and stares at Collins for a moment.]

Tempest: What's going on Mr. Commish. More careers to ruin?

[She eyes him angrily, keeping her distance form them with her arms folded.]

Shawn Collins: Tempest, what a pleasure. I've given Chris the opportunity to become the Canadian Champion next week on SS! What do you think?

[Tempest blinks.]

Tempest: Why?

Shawn Collins: Because he's deserving! Don't you think so?

Tempest: Of course I do. But since when do you give people what they deserve?

[She glares at him and backs up a little more.]

Shawn Collins: That's my job, babe.

[Collins takes a puff out of his Dunhill and exhales. Davison reaches over calmly, plucks the cigarette from his mouth, tosses it to the floor, and grinds it under his heel.]

Chris Davison: You heard me. You heard what I want. Now make it happen. Oh, by the way, I'm not bought off like that.

Shawn Collins: Listen to me, you piece of shit! I already told you I can't do anything about it! Now, I showed you the way out... take your Canadian title match or leave it. It's your decision, but get out of my office before I call security!

[Collins grabs another cig from his pack. Davison grabbed him roughly and cocked a fist.]

Chris Davison: And by the time they get here, you'll be fucked up beyond recognition!

[Tempest rushes forward and grabs Chris's arm, looking rapidly between him and Collins.]

Tempest: No! Wait a minute Chris, this could be worth it, just wait a minute. Are you really going to give this to him, Collins?

Shawn Collins: If he gets out, yeah!

Chris Davison: WHAT? What are you talking about, Tempest?

[Tempest looks at him pleadingly.]

Tempest: Chris, c'mon, it's about time you got a break around here. If he'll give you that, then take it. I... I can deal with Stalker.

[Chris looked confused and sputtered.]

Chris Davison: But.. wha... huh?

Shawn Collins: That's right Tempest, talk some sense into the man! Now, if you could...

[Shawn points to the door. Davison turned and looked at him menacingly.]

Chris Davison: Collins, you're god damn lucky I didn't paint the walls with your blood. I'd watch your step, if I were you.

[As he spoke, he stepped closer and closer until he was nose-to-nose with Collins.]

Chris Davison: You're walking on a razor's edge... one slip is all it will take.

[Davison turned, frustration shown in his eyes, and stalked from the room. Tempest looked up at Collins with fury.]

Tempest: You'd better be glad that I care about him more than I hate you. And if you try and screw him on this, I'll swear I'll rip out your jugular with my teeth.

[She looked into his eyes with an intense stare before leaving the room.]

Tim: Davison is everywhere here tonight... Anyway fans, our next match is... a TABLES MATCH!

Jeff: I want tables! I want tables!

Tim: Be quiet, Jeff. Night Stalker, who at Seven got the services of the lovely Tempest, goes one-on-one with the man who beat the former World champion, Lance Sterling: Jonathan Storm!

Jeff: UNFAIRLY beat!

Tim: He beat him, regardless. Now BE QUIET! It'll be interesting to see how Tempest reacts to having to accompany Stalker. Take it away, Nigel!

Nigel Rolston: The following match is a tables match! Introducing first, accompanied by Tempest... from Hell's Kitchen, NY.. weighing 275 pounds, Night Stalker!

[The sound of wind is heard followed by the sound of a guitar. The lights dim to a dull red color, the color of dried blood. A chill runs through crowd as a single flame appears in the center of the stage. As "Symphony of the Stalker" picks up, the flame grows and grows. Suddenly as the song picks up fully, the stage explodes in gray and black pyrotechnics. As the smoke clears, the flame remains on the stage as Night Stalker, clad in a black trenchcoat and black sunglasses, walks out. Tempest steps out on the ramp and just to one side of Stalker, with a sunken expression. She folds her arms over her chest as he turns and glares at her. Shes dressed in a pair of bright fuchsia PVC pants and a fuzzy bubble gum colored sweater. As they start to the ring, she keeps a few paces behind Stalker and her high pig tails bob along as she looks up and tries to smile at the fans, some of whom cheer and others boo.]

Tim: Hahaha, look at what Tempest is wearing!

Jeff: She looks delicious! Mmm... Tempest...

Tim: Alright there, Homer. Now shut up!

[The lights go black through the arena, and only strobes light the way. As the opening sounds of guitar chords plow through, the fans jeer, knowing what happens next.]

There's no money
There's no posessions
Only obession
I don't need that shit
Take my money
Take my obesssion...

[BAM!! Two straight shots of pyro shoot straight up as Jonathan Storm walks out to the ring! With a smirk on his face and his new "Define" t-shirt on, Storm walks out and rolls into the ring, ready for battle.]

Nigel: And his opponent, from Anaheim, CA. Weighing 231 pounds, "The Impact", Jonathan Storm!

[Storm pauses as he gets in the ring, sizing up the huge Night Stalker, who has around 40 pounds and 4 or so inches advantage. A collar-and-elbow tieup follows, with Stalker brushing Storm off and shoving him into the ropes. Storm rebounds, stopping just shy of Stalker, who has bent down, anticipating a backdrop. Storm kicks Stalker in the face and wrenches his arm, applying a basic yet effective submission hold. Storm applies the hold for several more seconds, finally dropping an elbow across Stalker's head and sending him to one knee. Stalker gets to his feet and grabs Storm's arm, whipping him into the turnbuckle. Stalker follows, and catches Storm with a chop to the throat. Stalker begins to choke Storm, until the referee breaks the hold and seperates the two of them. They lock up again, and Stalker easily overpowers Storm, working around him and backdropping him.]

Tim: You know, Storm can't win this match with brute strength.

Jeff: He can't win this match, period! The Curse of the Sterling will get him!

Tim: Curse of the... you're crazy, Jeff. You've gone stark raving mad.

Jeff: I know.. wait, I mean--

Tim: Shut up and call the match, Jeff.

[Stalker again maneuvers behind Storm and lifts him up for an atomic drop. Storm flips over and behind him and plants him with a forward russian legsweep. Storm takes a quick breather and ducks outiside the ring, reaching underneath it and pulling out a table. He slides the table in and gets on the apron, only to be struck with a right hand from Stalker. Stalker applies a facelock and suplexes Storm off the apron and back into the ring. Stalker, using the ropes for leverage, grinds his boot into Storm's face, starting a 5-count from the referee. Stalker breaks, and pulls Storm to his feet. He scoops him up into a gutwrench, then drops him across an outstretched knee in a modified backbreaker. Stalker walks over and begins to set up the table...]

Tim: And the table is set up! Remember to win this match you MUST put your opponent THROUGH the table!

Jeff: Hah, let's see Jonathan Storm do that!

[The table being set up, Stalker turns around and is hit with a shoulderblock from Storm. He staggers but remains on his feet. Storm runs into the opposite rope and comes with another shoulderblock, again staggering stalker. Meanwhile, outside the ring, Tempest walks around looking adorable and talking to fans at ringside; she remains oblivious to whatever is going on in the ring. Stalker blocks a right hand from Storm and counters with one of his own, sending Storm into the turnbuckle. Stalker sits him on the top rope, and starts to follow, setting him up for a superplex. Storm regains his wits and pushes Stalker off the top. Tempest shakes her head as she watches Storm leap and slip into a split before pushing back up into a moonsault. He lands in Stalker, who jolts form the impact as Tempest scoots into the ring. She taps Storm on the shoulder and seems to be getting in Storms face, but he looks confused. then she motions toward Stalker and mounts the turnbuckles. The crowd roars as she also does a split legged moonsault, only twisting into a corkscrew on the way over and landing on Stalker with a thud. She nods and smiles to Storm, who seems amused.]

Tim: Woah! What the hell is Tempest doing?!?

Jeff: She beat up Stalker! Because he deserves it!

Tim: If I were him, I would be plenty pissed at her for that one..

[Stalker staggers to his feet, and gives Tempest a "You little bitch!" look. He turns around and is met by a swift kick to the midsection by Storm. Storm motions to finish it off, and throws Stalker onto the table. He quickly jumps to the top turnbuckle, and leaps off first into a Frogsplash, but turning it into a Swanton Bomb! The table collapses under the impact of both men landing, and the referee calls for the bell.[

Tim: Storm wins with Ananheim Aftershock!

Jeff: Thanks to Tempest, he won.

[Storm's hand is raised in victory, but instead he walks over to Night Stalker and pulls him to his feet. He applies an inverted facelock, and drops Stalker backwards onto the remains of the table in his "Bittersweet Symphony"]

Tim: BITTERSWEET SYMPHONY!

[Storm raises his arms in the, now acknowledging a victory. He is met with cheers due to his winning, followed by boos because of his post-match attack. Storm shrugs and rolls out of the ring, walking back up the ramp. Tempest looks at Stalker, then at Storm, and merrily starts up the ramp herself. Meanwhile, in the ring... Stalker gets to his feet and grabs a mic.]

Stalker: What a minute sweetheart, I have a contract sitting in a file right now that says you are my valet, you are mine, where in the hell do you think you are going?

[Tempest glares up at him and picks up a mic of her own]

Tempest: Hey I was there for your match and now it's over. I dont have to stay put. I don't have to do anything but go to the ring. And you know what? It won't be long before you don't want me anywhere near a ring you're fighting in. You always act like you're the only thing around here to fear, that you're the only plague on the existence of wrestlers her, but two can play that game. I'm going to turn into a curse you wouldn't wish on your worst enemy.

[With that she throws the mic down and disappears into the back.]

Stalker: You think you are going to break me little girl? You have another thing coming......

[With that, Stalker tosses his mic aside and goes down the aisle in pursuit of Tempest.]

Tim: So much for Stalker thinking that Tempest would be an asset to him. Looks like she has plans of her own.

[Jeff yawns]

Tim: You should be fired, you know that?

Jeff: Fi.. huh?!? What? Umm.. Hey, nobody is in the ring!

Tim: The match is over, you idiot. Maybe for the next match you'll DO YOUR JOB!

[Jonathan Storm walking slowly to the garage takes a turn down to a dimly lit hallway; doors line most of the hallway, many of them leading to storage areas and equipment rooms. Thinking about his match he is completely unaware of a door opening right next to him. A arm shooting out of the dark room grasps him by the neck. Storm is so surprised he doesn't get a changed to fight back as he's pulled into the dark room. Thrown to the floor Storm rolls himself back up to his feet, looking towards the door he sees a large figure blocking nearly all the light from the door.]

Voice: Jonathan Storm.

[Storm doesn't recognize the voice but its tone has the same cold metallic qualities as the person whom Michael Trey said jumped him.]

Storm: Who the hell are you.

[Just as Storm finishes his question the lights in the room go on revealing that he's in a boiler room. Looking to the man in front of him Storm doesn't receive a clue to the identity of the man before him other then he's large, for the man is covered completely in a black robe resembling the type worn by the Grim Reaper. Storm keeps silent as he watches the man's hand move from the light switch to the door knob; closing the door he then pulls a metal bar across it, locking it.]

[Deciding not to wait to be attacked Storm lunges and hits a roundhouse kick to the man's back. Much to Storm's surprise the man doesn't fall, he only stumbles back. Swinging his other foot back around Storm knocks a devastating kick to the man's jaw, this blow only knocking the man to one knee. Stepping back Storm can't believe what he's seeing, but not letting up he moves back in deciding not to give the man an opportunity to attack him. As Storm moves back in, unaware to him the man reaches into his clock and brandishes a black metal rod, flicking his wrist down the rob extends to a club. As Storm goes to pick the man up the man swings the club up hitting Storm right across the side of his head, knocking him out cold.]

[The man standing back up looks down at Storm; putting the club away he picks up Storm and carries him to a large wooden table. Dropping Storm the man grabs a chair he lays it across the center of the table. Then climbing up onto pf the table to pulls Storm up with him. Leaping high and swinging his feet out form under him he plant Storm's head hard into the chair with a piledriver, the force of the piledriver is so strong it snaps the table in the process increase the pressure to Storm's neck.]

[The man pushing the completely unconscious storm off of him stands back up, walking to the door he pulls back the bar unlocking it. Looking back at Storm, he pushes the bar back into lock. Walking slowly back to Storm he again reaches into his cloak, pulling out something small and silver he holds it up, it's an X-Acto knife. Kneeling down the man begins to slowly lower the blade to Storm's chest.]

[Again at the door to the boiler room a collection of Referees, security guards and technicians stand at the door trying to get it open. With the way it's locked there is no key available so they've had to resort to trying to bust down the door. Three of the larger security guards continually lunge at the door trying to get it open. After several good shoulder charges the door finally gives. The guards are the first to rush in, of them flicking on a light. As the multitude rush in they nearly all have to fight the urge to vomit as they look in shock at Jonathan Storm laying in the middle of the floor his arms and legs stretched out covered with blood. One guard walking up knees down next to him and checks for a pulse, the look on the man's face is pure amazement as he feels a steady beat.]

Tim: What was that!?!

[The camera cuts backstage in front of Lance Sterling's locker room. The now former HWF champion stands with his longtime friend, Jayson Starr, still looking pissed off to all hell.]

Sterling: I can't believe that motherfucker Drake. He's got a lot of nerve to come out there and pull that shit. You agree with me, right? Fucking Rykopathe deserved what he got.

Jayson: Yeah, he did deserve to get his shit split, but don't you think that was just a LITTLE extreme man?

Sterling: Not at all. He fucked with me, so I ended his pathetic career just like he tried to do to me. Don't get all soft on me, Jay. Now I got worse things to worry about... I don't give a fuck about the fine; thats pocket change to me. But now I don't have a way to get at Drake, 'cause God knows the bastard will get me arrested or something if I come near him. So.. what the fuck do I do?

Jayson: You know we're tight, right?

Sterling: Of course.

Jayson: Then don't worry 'bout it, jack. I'll handle it.

Sterling: Excellent. C'mon man let's blow this joint. I don't wanna be anywhere near this fuckin' arena after that shit.

Jayson: Yeah, you got a good point. Let's go get us a beef bowl or some shit.

[Sterling waves his hand, and almost immediatly a loooong black stretch limousine pulls up. Sterling and Jayson both get in the limo, which has the license plates "GR8EST". Right after they both get in, the door slams shut and the limo drives off.]

Tim: They left! Just like that, Sterling and Jayson left the arena!

Jeff: CAN YOU BLAME THEM?!?

Tim: Well... no, I guess not. But what did Jayson mean by "I'll handle it."?

Jeff: *shrugs his shoulders* I dunno.

Tim: Figures.

[Backstage, Night Stalker is furious and looking back and forth in the hallways.]

Night Stalker: Where is that little wench? When I find her...

[He trails off, to leave the unheard threat hanging. As he turns the corner, he bumps into an extremely angry Chris Davison. Davison immediately lunges at him. Stalker and Davison trade fast and furious punches, each hammering the other full-on in the face. Stalker gets in a few, solid shots before Davison rolls him over and starts hammering viciously. Stalker and Davison are both bleeding from the face, and Davison hauls Stalker to his feet. Grabbing him by the head, he throws him at the brick wall, with the sickening smack of his head bouncing off of the bricks echoing in the hallway. He stomps away at Stalker, and storms off again, leaving Stalker lying next to the wall, with both men's blood all about.]

Tim: Well fans, our next match will be the culmination of a feud that has been going on since...well...I'm not sure since when, but I DO know that Gavin Coens and David Zakin are ready to rip each other to pieces.

Jeff: Gavin Coens...is the greatest thing to happen to the HWF since Lance Sterling.

Tim: If I'm not mistaken, Gavin has been here longer than Sterling.

Jeff: Pshaw, you can't judge me!

[Tim lays his forehead down onto his hands, shaking his head slowly as "Heavy" by Collective Soul kicks over the PA System,drumming through the ears of the audience. The entire arena goes dark and blue strobe lights begin to circle throughout the crowd. The crowd recognizes the music and begins to boo and jeer just as Gavin Coens steps out from behind the curtain. He raises his arms towards the fans, completely ignoring the chorus of boos. He walks down the aisle slapping the hands of fans who are reaching out to tear off a peice of him. Gavin doesn't seemto notice at all though as he makes his way down to the ring. He slides in casually and continues to signal towards the fans. The blue strobe lights stop and the arena lights are restored. Gavin readies himself in his corner and the music stops.]

Jeff: Booyah! All hail the messiah of the HWF, Gavin Coens!

Tim: Well, there's no denying what Gavin Coens has done for this company since the time he first came here-

Jeff: *Ignoring Tim* Gavin Coens! The Sole Superstar in wrestling today! The greatest to step into a ring besides Lance Sterling! Hey, wouldn't it be sweet if they decided to team up and make a sta-

Tim: Do you ever stop talking?

Jeff: I don't know, I've never really thought about it.

Tim: Ugh... [Commercials]

[The crowd is hot as, coming back from commercial, the screen shows Tempest and Chris Davison. There is an air of darkness about them both, as they step through the hallways. As they walk, Blackjack passes them by and looks Tempest over almost appreciatively, checking her out.]

Blackjack: You're one fine lookin-

[At that point, the air of darkness erupts as Davison, for seemingly no reason, tackles Blackjack to the floor, screaming in rage. The two roll back and forth on the floor, slugging each other in the face, before Davison grabs Blackjack by the throat and starts bashing his head off of the tile floor. Officials run in and pull the two apart, cursing and yelling, with a bit of blood seeping onto the polished surface of the floor from the back of Blackjack's head.]

Tim: Whoa, Davison is hot!!

[The lights dim and the crowd qiets down a bit. Then a big, red, awesome explosion of pyro goes off and the crowd gives Zakin a standing ovation. "Walk" by Kilgore begins to play and out comes Zakin through the smoke. He stands at the top of the ramp and looks around at the crowd. Before walking to the ring, Zakin lifts his hands high in the air. As he brings them down red pyro, starting from the end of the stage area, slowly closes in on him and right before the last explosion he moves out of the way. Zakin walks to the ring and slips in. Gavin stays in the corner, smirking smartly as the bell rings.]

Tim: Here we go, culmination of a feud that's been going on for quite a while!

Jeff: And the best part...NO DIS-FUCKIN'-QUALIFICATION!

[The two men waist no time in going at each other, with Zakin punching crazily at Gavin's face. Coens stumbles back, surprised by Zakin's early-on intensity. Gavin comes running at Zakin, but Zakin moves at the last second and flip[s Gavin over with a stiff fall-forward hiptoss! Gavin starts to get up, but before he can, Zakin runs to the turnbuckle and flies into the air with a sudden Springboard Moonsault Body Press Suicida, hitting Gavin perfectly!]

Jeff: Wow...

Tim: Look at the intensity of David Zakin so early on! These Japanese HWF fans are on their feet right off the bat!

[Zakin hops up to his feet, dragging Gavin up along with him. Zakin beats a few punches into Gavin's face, eventually backing him into the ropes. Zakin whips Gavin into the opposite ropes, then catches him and hits a Release-Belly to Belly suplex over the ropes and makes Gavin hit the floor with impact! Zakin, waisting no time, slips out of the ring opposite from Gavin and folds up a chair, looking back over to Gavin with a smirk on his face. Meanwhile, Gavin is shaking off the early-on fatigue, kneeling right next to the ring apron. Gavin then starts to dig under the ring quickly, then stops and pulls a suitcase-like leather box from underneath the ring. He flips it open to reveal hundreds of light-bulbs! Gavin smiles as he grabs one in each hand, then looks back to Zakin. The two walk around the side of the ring, with Zakin charging at Coens. As Zakin swings the chair, Gavin moves at the last moment, making Zakin smack the chair across the head of the ringside cameraman! Zakin turns around quickly, but is met with two lightbulbs in the face, shattering and cutting Zakin wide open above his forehead!]

Jeff: Yeeeeeeeeehaaaaaaaaaaah! Look at Gavin go!

Tim: Zakin needs medical attention! Look at the way Gavin messed up Zakin's forehead!

Jeff: Yeah, he did it pretty good, don't you think?

[Gavin leans up against the barricade, once again, shaking his head a little. He then bends down and picks up the chair Zakin had just used, and stands right above Zakin. He then suddenly whacks Zakin in the back with the chair, hitting him violently with the chair across his kidneys. Gavin raises the chair back up, then brings it down onto Zakin's kidney's again, except this time even harder. Gavin does the same thing four more times, with Zakin yelling in pain with each hit. Gavin then stops and tosses the chair into the ring. He grabs Zakin by the hair and lifts him up, sliding him into the ring, then does the same for himself. He stands above Zakin once again and positions him in the middle of the ring, slanted towards one turnbuckle. Gavin then grabs the chair and scales up the turnbuckle, then looks back to the crowd getting major heel heat. He smiles, then dives off of the top rope, putting the chair underneath his leg and hitting Zakin right in the face with the huge guillotene leg drop!]

Jeff: Damn! Look at Gavin go!

Tim: He has the advantage here undoubtedly.

[Gavin then grabs the chair and slides it out of the ring, then jumps back on top of Zakin for the pin.]

[One... ...Two.... ...Th..KICKOUT!!!]

Tim: Near fall! How did Zakin just kick out of that!?

Jeff: No idea whatsoever, but as long as Gavin keeps swingin', he's got the win lined up perfectly!

[Gavin looks angered at the referee's count, but decides against arguing and picks Zakin up by his hair. Gavin reaches his arm back, then decks Zakin in the face, a huge SMACK heard around the arena. This sends Zakin back into the turnbuckle, as Gavin runs towards him. Zakin moves at the last moment, as Gavin dropkicks the turnbuckle. Zakin, in one lightning-quick movement, steps forward as Gavin bounces off the turnbuckle, sticks him in a full-nelson, then drops him down with a HUGE full-nelson slam! Zakin then picks Gavin back up and tosses him out of the ring Royal-Rumble style, then hops out of the ring after him. Gavin meets Zakin as he jumps out, and the two begin to brawl violently right near the fans. Gavin eventually gets the upper-hand on Zakin, then grabs a beer bottle from the hands of a fan and smacks in over the head of Zakin, bringing the total of glass objects that have cut Zakin open to two.]

Tim: That's twice in one night that Zakin's been cut open by a glass object!

Jeff: Yeah! Isn't it great?

[Zakin slumps down against the barricade as Gavin ventures over next to the ring and starts to dig around under it. Gavin finally pulls out what he was looking for - a table. He actually gets a small pop as he sets it up, but instead of going to get Zakin, he sets it up as a bridge from the ring apron to the guardrail. Gavin smiles, then turns around. Zakin is now back on his feet, and hiptosses Gavin over the guardrail into the crowd! Zakin hops over it and the two start to battle through the crowd, hidden from view of the camera. They finally get a cameraman over there, just in time to show a fan dump a full cup of beer onto his back. Gavin turns around, full of piss and vinegar, but Zakin stops him before he can do anything by grabbing him under the arms and hitting an atomic drop over a chair. Gavin grabs his lower extremities, as Zakin grabs him in a headlock and leads him through the crowd, back to the ring. He slides Gavin in, but instead of following him, he runs around to the stairs. He climbs up them quickly, then, without thinking, slingshots himself over the turnbuckle onto Gavin's chest, with both elbows outstretched and hits him square in the face! Zakin lifts Gavin's leg quickly, going for the cover.]

[One... ...Two... ...THR..KICKOUT!]

Tim: A near fall there by The Insider, let's see if he can capitalize on that momentum!

Jeff: Eh, shut up ya three assed WCW runaway-monkey.

Tim: Huh?

[Zakin picks Gavin back up, then moves around him Matrix-style and hits him with a fall-forward reverse DDT. Zakin then twists Gavin around, looking to hook in his patented Compton Crossface, but before he can, Gavin flips him over with a quick Snapmare takedown. Zakin, stunned by the sudden movement, jumps up to his feet, but Gavin grabs his arm and whips him into the ropes. Gavin stands on one side, and when Zakin comes bouncing back, Gavin bends down and back-body drops him over the ropes onto the table he set up outside previously! Zakin crashes through the table, as Gavin watches it smiling!]

Jeff: See that? We like to call that "Intelligence". People like David Zakin and Michael Trey have zero of it.

Tim: No doubt Gavin is an experienced wrestler, and he may have this match in the palms of his hands right now.

[Gavin climbs out of the ring, and looks down at Zakin, shaking his head. He then looks up at the crowd and raises his hands in the air, getting major heel heat from the crowd. Gavin starts to grin as he picks Zakin back up, but as he does, Zakin somehow kicks Gavin square in his balls, then lifts him up and slams him down with an Implant DDT on the broken pieces of the table! Gavin hits the table hard, his head breaking the table into even more pieces as Zakin gets up slowly. He walks back over to the ring and starts to dig around under it until he pulls out a long barbed-wire wrapped singapore cane! The weapon gets a huge reaction from the crowd as Zakin looks at it smiling, then looks back to Gavin. He walks over standing directly above Gavin's head and positions himself, then...waits. Zakin waits for Gavin to get up, and after about 20 seconds, he does. Gavin uses his hands to kneel, then turns around - and gets a huge THWACK in the face with the barbed-wire wrapped singapore cane! Gavin gets knocked back by the impact, his face bloodied and worn.]

Jeff: For Gavin's Sake!

Tim: Yeah, literally!

Jeff: Tim...STFU.

Tim: STFU?

Jeff: Yeah...I'll explain it to you later.

[Zakin starts to get a chant from the crowd as he picks Gavin back up and slides him back into the ring. Both men are bleeding from the face, especially Zakin, who has blood streaming down right near his nose profusely. Gavin rolls over onto his side, as Zakin picks him up. Gavin, despite his injuries, fights back to Zakin, nailing him in the mouth with a well-placed punch. Zakin comes out of nowhere with a kick to the stomach, then scales the turnbuckles and turns around. Zakin dives off the top rope, trying to land a top-rope Famasser, but Gavin turns at the last second, reversing the move into a sit-out Powerbomb! Gavin goes with the momentum, sliding out of the ring to grab a chair. Zakin stands up as quickly as possible, and climbs up the turnbuckle again, trying to surprise Gavin. Gavin turns around with the chair in hand, and at the sight of Zakin, chucks the chair at Zakin's head ECW-style. Zakin gets hit by the chair and slumps on the top rope. Gavin quickly climbs onto the top rope, hooking Zakin into a front chancery and lifting him up. Gavin then dives off the top rope, landing a Super DDT to the outside of the ring!]

["OOOHHH"]

Tim: That had to nearly kill Zakin!

Jeff: Yer damn right it did! Gavin, our holy savior, just took Zakin out completely!

Tim: Ugh...Jeff, how many times did your mother drop you on your head as a child?

Jeff: *puts his hand on his chin, then holds up 3 fingers* Umm, this many!

Tim: Ugh..

[Gavin holds his back as he stands up, but eventually picks Zakin up too. He whips Zakin into the ring steps, then follows him over and starts to bash his head into them violently! Gavin mercilessly beats Zakin's head into the steps, then ceases. Gavin stands Zakin up, who is completely groggy from the head-bashings. Gavin then sets Zakin up on the railing, laying Zakin down chest in the air. Gavin then rushes to the ring and climbs up the turnbuckle, then, without hesitating, jumps off the turnbuckle, nailing a HUGE guillotene legdrop! Gavin lands in an awkward position, falling backwards onto the cement floor and smacking his head against it. Zakin makes a funny noise as he gets hit, sliding off the back and twisting his neck in a VERY awkward position. The fans stare down at him, some patting him on the back, to no avail. Both men lie motionless on the floor.]

["OOOHHH"]

Tim: Did you just see that?

Jeff: If I'm not mistaken, that's the second time we've heard that chant in the last 10 mintues...and the funny part is, both times it was from one of Gavin's moves! Hah! All hail Gavin!

[Both men lie motionless for over a minute, not moving whatsoever. The first man to show signs of life is Gavin, who slowly kneels on one knee. Zakin starts to kneel too, as Gavin stands up on both feet. Gavin grabs Zakin by the hair and pulls him over the railing weakly, climbing into the ring and looking back down at Zakin. Zakin struggles to get back into the ring, as Gavin helps him by pulling him by the hair. Both men are now in the ring, face to face. The two start to exchange punches to the face, with Zakin eventually getting the upper hand. Zakin puts Gavin in position for the Inside Edition (Pumphandle Slam into Inverted DDT), but as Zakin lifts Gavin over his shoulder, Gavin slips down off of his shoulder and hits a fall-forward reverse DDT, reversing the move greatly! Gavin quickly goes for the cover...]

[One... ...Two... ...Thre..KICKOUT!]

Tim: Gavin almost had him right there! The match was nearly over!

Jeff: The match SHOULD HAVE BEEN over! The ref's trying to screw Gavin, I know it!

Tim: Phsh...paraniod fuck.

Jeff: Excuse me?

[Gavin stomps on Zakin a few times, but Zakin still gets up slowly. Zakin finally stands up completely, and the two once again start to fight hand to hand. Gavin backs off after a moment, and notices the chair he used to throw at Zakin earlier sitting on the ring apron. He looks back to Zakin, and picks it up. Zakin abruptly runs at Gavin without Gavin noticing, and before he does notice, Zakin dropkicks the chair into Gavin's face hard! The sound of the shot echoes through the stadium, as Zakin picks Gavin back up. He then grabs Gavin's leg and trips him up, locking him into a ankle-lock. Gavin starts to yell in pain from the move, as Zakin holds it in mercilessly. The ref comes over to see if Gavin taps out, but Gavin shakes his head. Zakin smiles as Gavin is about to break down, but before he can, Gavin lifts Zakin up by the foot he was holding, lifting him into the air. He then brings Zakin back down, and as he does, Gavin grabs Zakin's neck and hits a stiff Stunner-style neckbreaker!]

Jeff: What innovation by Gavin Coens!

Tim: Indeed!

Jeff: *mocking Tim* Indeed!

Tim: You mocking me again?

Jeff: Hell no, assfucker...

Tim: Psh, go eat some doughnuts.

[Zakin rolls over, and it isn't as hard to get to his feet as before. Gavin is surprised at this, but before he can do anything about it, he is met with a swift kick to the midsection from Zakin. Zakin then slams Gavin down hard with a big Pumphandle Slam. He then goes for the cover...]

[One... ...Two... ...Th..KICKOUT!]

[Zakin jumps to his feet and walks over to the turnbuckle, pissed that Gavin won't stay down. Zakin reaches the top rope, then stays in a crouched-position as he waits for Gavin to stand up. Gavin gets up on one knee, and realizes what Zakin is planning to do. As Gavin fully stands up, he grabs the referee as Zakin launches into the air, and Gavin holds the ref in front of him as Zakin accidently Missile Dropkicks the ref! The ref is completely out of it, as Gavin lets him go and backs up. Gavin steps forward and grabs hold of Zakin, then attempts to whip him into the ropes. Zakin reverses it and sends Gavin into the ropes himself. Zakin performs a perfect belly-to-belly suplex on Gavin, then makes his way over to the turnbuckle again. Zakin gets to the top rope, then executes his trademark move, The Insider Splash, onto Gavin! Zakin lays there for the pin, as the crowd chants "One! Two! Three!", but the ref is still out so there is no one to officially count Gavin down!]

Tim: What the hell! Zakin has the match won, but the ref is out!

Jeff: I see nothing! Zakin doesn't have the pin! Who prescribed you a bag of weed, Tim!

Tim: But he's right there! The match is over!

[Zakin jumps off of Gavin and goes over to the referree. As Zakin tries to revive and help up the ref, Gavin gets up to his feet and grabs Zakin from behind. He grabs Zakin's arms from behind him, places his leg in front of his own and delivers a Cardinal Syn on Zakin! Gavin quickly goes for the cover as the ref administers the count slowly.]

[One... ...Two... ...THREE!!]

["Heavy" by Collective Soul hits, as the bell rings and Gavin swiftly slides out of the ring. He celebrates with his hands in the air, but as soon as he notices Zakin getting up, he jumps out of the ring and starts to back up the ramp. Before he disappears from sight, he points to his head and says "It's all about experience, baby!"]

Tim: What a fucked up ending!

Jeff: What? Gavin got that win clean!

Tim: Gavin cheated! That was cheap! Gavin will one day pay for his crimes, I guarantee you that!

Jeff: Eh, go blow it out your britches Tim.

[We cut backstage where we see two jumpsuited HWF crewman loading some strange looking plywood boards onto a hand truck. The camera moves up to focus on the men's heads as they look down at the boards.]

Crewman 1: You know we've set some crazy matches up here in the HWF... what with us being the match setter uppers and all... but this stuff is twisted.

Crewman 2: Tell me about it...

[The men finish loading and the 1st man pulls the hand truck towards a doorway with the 2nd man a few feet behind. Just as they get to the door way the 1st man looks back.]

Crewman 1: Don't forget that bucket of gasoline...

Crewman 2: Oh yeah...

[Commercials]

JD Brady: Now...I know you are all a bunch of Japanese people and have NO CLUE what in the hell I am talking about...

[No reaction from crowd cause hell, they don't.]

JD Brady...but I'm going to talk anyway. Last week at Seven, I was involved in a match with Rage, Mayhem, and Renegade. Rage, you retired. Oh well, yeah, real terrible lose there. You ended my first title reign, the 6 day one. It wasn't one of my proudest moments and now your gone after your small stint here, but hats off to ya my friend.

[JD hits the mic on his chest twice and continues.]

JD Brady: Mayhem. I have a feeling things are over with you. Your a wrestler who didn't go down to the end as I did and I have more experience here than you, despite all your little "westside" stories from the hood or whatever. I'd like to face you again, but I see no point. Two matches me and you have been in, and two matches you have lost, one I have won. Mayhem. If you feel you still have something left to prove against me then say so, I won't back down. Nothing much more to say.

[You can now notice that JD isn't his normal, perky self. He's just walking around the ring with no 'umf', no charisma, no nothing. Brady puts the mic back up to his lips and leans against the ropes.]

JD Brady: Final guy....Renegade. Renegade, as I look back into my HWF past I've wrestled 17 matches here in a five month period. In that five month period, in those 17 matches, YOU...Renegade...have been involved in EIGHT of those matches. In those matches I have gone 3-2-3. Not terrible...but when you factor in one of those was a title loss it makes it personal...VERY personal. But you know what? Despite me lasting with you til the final two, I don't acknowledge that match ever happened. EVER happened. I am still a champion in my own mind, and the only thing that I don't have to prove it is a title belt. So Renegade...to YOU...and to the ENTIRE HWF, the ENTIRE UNITED STATES, and the ENTIRE JAPAN WORLD....I present to you...your new HWF...

[JD picks up the black bag, opens it up, and pulls out a foam title belt. JD puts it on his shoulder and continues his sentence.]

JD Brady...Thunder Lighting Champion...JD BRAADDDDDYYYYYYY!!!!!

[The fans look confused, as everyone must be. When we look at the title, we see cheap thunderbolts super glued onto the belt, also the word "Bang" is written below, the "Thunder Lighting" written above it.]

JD Brady: Renegade, so this is what I propose. I AM NOW THE GREATER CHAMPION, the BETTER Champion, the BEST Champion between us. So next week, on Suicide, this is what I want. Renegade vs. JD Brady. Non-title, no title on the line is what it means for burnout's like Renegade. The LOSER of that match will have to put THEIR title on the line the next Suicide in a SPECIAL match to be named later. So Renegade...we are NOT threw at all, I will NOT let you have the last laugh. Renegade, you are mine. I am the HWF Thunder Lighting Champion, and I'M GONNA STRIKE YOUR ASS TO THE GROUND!

[With that, "Responsibility" by MxPx comes back on as JD throws the black bag into the crowd and takes the Thunder Lighting Championship Foam Title up the ramp with him. Once he gets to the top, JD holds it up high as you here some Japanese screams, and then JD to the back. As he does, a man in a black business suit hastialy runs out to the ring. He slides in a grabs a mic, as the Japanese fans look shocked.]

Man: Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. My name is Poindexter Bailey, and I'm a representative of your favorite cable network, Tripod. Before I let tonight's show go any further, I must tell everyone here, and the management of the HWF, how things need to change before we can go on airing this broadcast. Some of you were left speechless when we cut your last show, but believe me folks, it was all done for a good cause. Month after month, we here at Tripod saw the kind of filth that the HWF decided to display week after week. It repulses me to find out that instead of cleaning up it's act, the HWF has only gotten more degrading as time as gone on. Well, we at Tripod will not stand for this any longer.

[The man pauses, no reaction from the fans.]

Poindexter Bailey: Just last week, a young, 8 year old boy in Florida knocked his older sister in the head with a chair, pushed her down the stairs, and proceeded to rub his genitalia on her face. Now we are positive that the material HWF chooses to air on their shows is a direct cause of this kind of behavior. What kind of message is the Hardcore Wrestling Federation trying to teach your children? One man, Lance Sterling, is rumored to have been in the porn industry. Another wrestler named Trevor Lasek repeatedly set himself on fire in front of millions of innocent eyes. Various HWF management have relations with former valets, giving our young people the wrong idea of the responsibilities of sex. Teen Angst teaches young adolecents that it's ok to further teen pregnancy and child birth out of wedlock. The armpit of society like Wrecking Crew tell America's youth that it's ok to drink beer and run around inebriated. Well, Tripod says no more, HWF! From here on we monitor all broadcasts, censor all foul language, and bleep out all unnecessary violence! It's time someone took a stand, and that someone is us. Abide by our rules, HWF, or you will find yourself out on the street once again!

[Poindexter Bailey raises his arms and waves to the crowd, only to be meet my a shower of boos. He is just fixing to leave the ring, When a loud engine roar erupts over the speakers, and blasts into the intro riff to "Lakini's Juice". Walking down the rampway, dressed in a driller's jacket and camo ballcap, is the Wildcat, followed closely by Raging Rickey Williams. Wildcat rolls into the ring, grabs a mic from his jacket, and gets into Poindexter's face.]

Wildcat: Yeah come down here, ya mouth off about your rules and your regulations, and tell us how we're gonna act? Now I know how you grubby bastards got your name; bendin' over with your head between your legs so you can watch your boss's nuts slap your ass! I can't speak for the rest of the HWF, but I can give ya the Wreckin' Crew's answer to your little rules!

[Wildcat tosses the mic and kicks Poindexter in the gut, locks him in a gutwrench, and slams him down with a gutwrench powerbomb! Wildcat stands over the Tripod representative, mouthing and cussing, as Big Texas scales the turnbuckle and gives Wildcat a thumbs up. The crowd cheers wildly as they watch Wildcat grab Poindexter's legs and turn him over into a Texas Clover Leaf, as Big Texas steadies himself and dives off the turnbuckle. Rickey Williams lands with a Guillotine LegDrop, and Wildcat breaks the hold. Poindexter writhes around on the mat holding his neck, as the Wrecking Crew taunts him. "Lakini's Juice" hits the speakers, and WC head to the back, jawing and cussing to the fans' delight. The camera cuts back to Tim Miller and Jeff Robinson.]

Tim: Alright, I guess it's time for the ma-

[Unrepentantly “Living in Chaos” by Offspring blares throughout the arena as film of Chris Styles performing various moves throughout his HWF career plays on the extreme-tron. The music continues to play, and upon reaching a steady beat from the curtains emerges Chris Styles, his newly acquired Canadian Title tightly around his waist. Styles seems to be limping on his left leg a bit and has bandages all over his body, as well as a brace of some sorts on his nose. Styles makes his way to the ring slowly, mainly due to his limp. Upon arriving he slides under the bottom rope, stands in the middle of the ring and motions for a mic, which is tossed to him by a ring attendant. The crowd has a mixed reaction as they await Styles’ voice. Slowly raising the mic to his mouth Styles looks around the arena]

Styles: Well, well, well. Here we are…Japan. I know all of you were expected the Stalker, Storm match to be starting right now but, change of plans, I have some stuff to say. Well, lets get straight to it, shall we?! People have been wondering where the hell I have been this week. Why I haven’t cut a promo and all that. Well…to tell you the truth I had been in a hospital until late Thursday when I hopped on a plane and flew my ass over here for this tour of Japan so, I am pretty tired, and still a bit beat up. But, all that doesn’t mean much cause in all the pain wasn’t for nothing. Like I said I would, though many of you doubted me, I walked out of Seven the TWO TIME Canadian Champion. Yeah, I may be beat-up now but if the staff decides I should wrestle next week, I’ll be ready. Hell, I am almost ready for tonight…and no that isn’t a challenge, I am happy having the weekend off.

Styles: Now, even though I proved myself a true champion when I regained the Canadian Title at Seven you…you fans, many of you still seem to think I am not what I say I am. You think it is just a matter of having to defend that I will lose my title. You know what I have to say to you people, the Styles nay sayers?

[The crowd looks on as Styles looks to them expecting an answer]

Styles: Well, just as Teen Angst would like it said, fuck you fuck you fuck you. That’s right, I am sick of this shit but then again I know it will never stop. There will always be those who think less of you, that try and bring you down because in their pathetic lives they have nothing better to do. So, what I am going to do is just go out and just do what I do best…win. Now, lets move on.

[Pause as Styles looks to his feet for a short moment. Slowly raising his head back to the mic]

Styles: Now, as for Corman. I know, even though I handed it to you pretty bad and your probably pretty “fried” (what a horrible pun) right now, you will be back for another shot. As much as I would like to be done with your Kyle “almost” Corman self I know it isn’t that easy. So, whenever you do get your rematch, title or non-title just remember what happened at Seven. Remember to blood, the pain, and most importantly, the electricity. You almost died Corman, and don’t think for a second I won’t take you to the same point, or even further next time we meet. Actually, while we are on the subject let that be a threat to all my opponents I shall face. I really hate to make threats to unnamed people but what the hell, I’m hoped up on pain killers, I have a excuse for whatever I say out here. Haha, anyway, I am done here, I just want everyone to remember that Jeff over here (points at Jeff) has a small dick! Haha…

[“Living in Chaos plays once again as Styles tosses the mic to the outside of the ring, slides under the ropes and makes his way to the back.]

Tim: Alright fans, stay tuned for the mai nevent of the evening... brought to you commercial-free from our NEW TV provider...

Jeff: Damn advertisers...

[Commercials]

[As we return from the break we focus in on the ring. We notice the two crewman heading away from ringside pulling the hand truck, which is now empty. We quickly take stock of the ring and notice that it's been surrounded with some strange weapons. Along three sides of the ring we see three pieces of plywood which are roughly 3 foot wide and 5 feet long. One board has a tangled mass of barbed-wire all over it. The next one is actually a wooden tray and it's filled with thousands of thumbtacks. The final board has four 4 1/2 foor long flourescent light bulb tubes attatched to it.]

Tim: Looks like our main event is gonna get hardcore here tonight!!

Jeff: Just what these Japs like!!

Tim: Jeff, I beg of you... quit with that...

Jeff: Fine, whatever... Get the Warriors of the Rising Sun out here...

Tim: You mean, the Warriors of the Rising Sun BETA.

Jeff: What?

[The Juppongatana blares through the arena as the arena lights dim. Red lights strobe throughout the arena as the fans sit in silence. Suddenly TATSUMI rushes from the back, his trademark Sickle raised over his head. TATSUMI stops on the stage as his partner, the stoic Darkside Dragon, emerges from the back. Dragon stops in the center of the stage and bows as TATSUMI jumps around on the stage trying to hype up the crowd. TATSUMI starts towards the ring followed by Dragon who takes his time. TATSUMI slides into the ring first and runs from one turnbuckle to the other, climbing up and raising his Sickle into the air. Dragon enters the ring in the chaos and stands motionless in the center. TATSUMI climbs to the top of another turnbuckle and blows his now Yellow mist into the air just as Dragon breaks into a martial arts display. TATSUMI hops down from the turnbuckle as Dragon finishes his display and bows to the crowd. TATSUMI tosses his Sickle into their corner and hops around, loosening up. Meanwhile Dragon kneels in the teams corner and blesses himself. He finishes his prayer and rises to his feet before looking to TATSUMI. The two men nod to each other as they await their opponents.]

Jeff: Whoa, these guys look different.

Tim: Sure do, and more dangerous.

Jeff: What's up with the name change anyway?

Tim: Well, if I told you that, I'd have to kill you.

Jeff: O... kay...

[The lights in the stadium dim as the camera focuses on the HWF-tron. On the massive screen stretches a gigantic brickwall, with nothing more than a low rumbling sound emitting from the PA system. The rumbling gets louder and louder as it becomes clear it's a loud engine on full throttle. The roar reaches its apex has the brickwall explodes, and a large, Ford Duelly Pickup blasts through as the lights flash wildly to the opening riff of "Lakini's Juice". From the entrance jumps Wildcat and Rickey Williams, jawing at each other and the audience. Both men start walking down the rampway, slide into the ring, and mount the nearest two turnbuckles. Wildcat cusses wildly at the fans, while Big Texas pumps his arms in the air. Both men dismount and look into the crowd. Suddenly, from behind, TATSUMI flies into the shot. Just as Rickey turns around, TATSUMI blasts him in the face with a corkscrew dropkick.]

Jeff: Watch out!! It's Pearl Harbor all over again!!

Tim: JEFF!!

[The bell sounds, as Billy runs at Dragon and levels him with a forearm. Dragon falls backwards and gets back up, only to be clotheslined down again. TATSUMI begins leveling Rickey with right hands as Billy picks up Dragon and throws him against the ropes. Dragon bounces off and Billy goes for a back body drop. Amazingly, Dragon lands on his feet and bounces off the other ropes. As Billy turns around, Dragon jumps up for a hurricanrana. He tries to flip Billy over, but Billy stays put. He pulls Dragon back up into powerbomb position, but then backflips him onto his feet. Dragon runs in again, but Billy catches him and launches him into a vacated corner with a huge belly to belly suplex. The fans immediately begin to clap and cheer for the sequence.]

Jeff: What a sequence by Billy Williams and Jin Kob-

Tim: Darkside Dragon... he means Darkside Dragon.

Jeff: Oh, is that what I meant?

[Dragon gets up, but Billy quickly grabs him and tries to toss him over the ropes to the outside. TATSUMI shortly stops that, by throwing Billy over the top rope and down to the floor, on the thumbtack pile. Billy quickly gets to his feet, as does Rickey in the ring. Rickey runs at both TATSUMI and Dragon, only to be back dropped over the top rope and onto his own partner.]

Jeff: WHOA!!

Tim: The Warriors of the Rising Sun BETA are on fire here tonight!!

[Dragon clears the top rope and flies to the outside, wiping out both members of the Wrecking Crew. All three men tumble onto thew tacks as TATSUMI hops to the outside and tosses up the ring apron. TATSUMI pulls out a bucket, the aforementioned 'bucket of gassoline'. TATSUMI reaches in and pulls out a cloth of some type, and thouroughly rings in out. TATSUMI then pulls the cloth onto him, revealing it to be a t-shirt that reads simply TATSUMI in all white letters. TATSUMI hops onto the ring apron and then onto the top turnbuckle as Dragon pulls Rickey and Billy Williams up at ringside. TATSUMI then reaches into his waist band and pulls out a silver object. He flicks the object and the next thing we know TATSUMI's whole shirt explodes into flame. The Japanese fans 'OOOHHH' as TATSUMI leaps off the top turnbuckle with a Tenkyuu (Shotting Star Press). TATSUMI flips through the air, his shirt ablaze, and slams into both Rickey and Billy, knocking them down onto the tacks a third time. A split second later white mist fills the scene and we see Darkside Dragon with a fire extinguisher, dousing his partner.]

Jeff: Since there are no Americans in the house, I'm gonna fill in this spot with... HOLY SHIT!!

Tim: Remininsce of Trevor Lasek with that flaming Tenkyuu to the outside!!

[Dragon tosses the extinguisher and pulls TATSUMI up to his feet. The Warriors BETA, now, pick out each others tacks much like gorillas in the wild pick out bugs. The crowd cheers for Dragon and TATSUMI as the each grab one of the Crew. TATSUMI grabs Billy, but Billy plants a low blow, double TATSUMI over. Dragon tries to grab Rickey, but has the same luck as TATSUMI did. Billy quickly aplies a head scissors on TATSUMI, lifts him up and slams him back down on the thumbtacks with a STIFF powerbomb. Again, the Japanese crowd reactsd with a "OOOHHH".]

Tim: MY GOD!!

[In turn, Rickey grabs Dragon and throws him into the ring. Rickey slides in himself and, as Dragon gets up, he drops him with a quick swining neckbreaker. Billy holds down TATSUMI as Rickey goes for a pin.]

Jeff: Roughneckbreaker!!

[One... ...Two... ..Thr...KICKOUT!!]

Tim: Couldn't get him!!

[On the outside, Billy grabs TATSUMI and drags him over to the barbed-wire board and throws him on the apron. Billy lifts up TATSUMI in a bearhug, facing the barbed-wire board. In the ring, Rickey places himself about 5 feet away from them. Billy yells out something, as the fans crescendo. Rickey quickly superkicks TATSUMI right in the jaw, sending him all the way down onto the barbed-wire board.] [POP!!POP!!POP!!]

Jeff: What the hell!?!

[Sparks fly from the board that TATSUMI landed on, as he quickly rolls off of it. The fans begin to cheer at the show of violence.]

Tim: Oh my god!! That must have been Exploding Barbed-Wire!!

Jeff: Or TATSUMI has some bad sushi...

[TATSUMI lays prone on the outside, as Billy hops out after him. Rickey turns around in the ring, only to be knocked down with a spinning heel kick from Dragon. Rickey quickly bounces up, but Dragon nails him with another spinning heel kick. Rickey stumbles up a second time, as Dragon quickly scales the ropes. He leaps off for a third spinning heel kick, and connects right on Rickey's forehead. Rickey drops down hard and Dragon quickly brings him back to his feet. He locks on a rear waistlock, crosses Rickey's own arms, and throws him over in a pinning german suplex.]

Tim: Double Arm Darkside Suplex!!

Jeff: How do you know all these names?

[One... ...Two... ...THR... KICKOUT!!]

Jeff: Man, this one is close...

[While Dragon beats on Rickey in the ring, Billy begins choking TATSUMI on the outside. Billy forces TATSUMI over to the flourescent lightbul board and slaps on a standing head scissors. He lifts up TATSUMI for a powerbomb, but TATSUMI slips out. TATSUMI and Billy now start to go back and forht with right and left hands. Eventually, TATSUMI gets the best of the Crew member on hops onto the apron. He grabs the top rop to jump off, but Billy low blows him. Billy hops up onto the apron himself, now, and locks TATSUMI in a front chancery. In one fluid motion, Billy throws his body around TATSUMI and drives him back - off the apron and smashing into the flourescent light bulb below!!]

Jeff: OH LORD!!

Tim: TATSUMI is really getting beat on tonight!!

[The crowd claps and cheers for the action, as attention moves back towards inside the ring. Dragon has Rickey on his knees and is laying into him with furious right and left foots. Rickey catches one of the kicks though, and gets to his feet. Dragon attempts a enziguri but Rickey ducks. Rickey pushes Dragon off to the ropes. As Dragon bounces back, Rickey goes for a clothesline. Dragon floats around his back, however, and locks on a rear waistlock. Rickey goes for a back elbow, but Dragon ducks. Dragon quickly grabs Rickey by the chest and drops him with a Uranage.]

Tim: Dragon Throw!!

Jeff: Man, these two teams couldn't BE more even...

[Dragon instinctively goes for a pin, as Billy finally crawls himself onto the apron.]

[One... ...Two... ...THREE... NO, KICKOUT!!]

Tim: GOD!! THAT WAS CLOSE!!

[The fans cheer for Rickey kicking out, as Billy slowly makes his way to the enar turnbuckle. TATSUMI is still down in the chards of broken glass, blood pouring from his arms. Billy slowly climbs to the top rope, and looks in the ring. Inside, Dragon lifts up Rickey and irish whips him. Rickey reverses it, though, and sends Dragon into the cables. As he bounces back, Rickey LEVELS him with a huge big boot.]

Tim: What a Big Boot from Big Texas!!

[Almost instantly, TATSUMI begins moving on the outside slowly pulling himself to his home corner. Billy now stands up on the top rope and waits for Dragon to rise. When he does, Billy leaps off and takes out Dragon with a beautiful flying hurricanrana.]

Jeff: RIG DROP!! RIG DROP!! It's OVER!!

Tim: Wait, look at TATSUMI!!

[TATSUMI finally made it to his corner and grabs his sickle. The fans instantly begin to crescendo with the big "OOOHHH" as TATSUMI slides into the ring. Billy drops down for the pin, as Rickey tries to gain his composure.]

Jeff: PIN HIM!! PIN HIM!!

[One... ...Two... ...THRE...Sickle Attack by TATSUMI breaks up the pin!!]

Tim: TATSUMI saved him!!

[TATSUMI digs deep into Billy, causing him to roll off of Dragon. Billy rolls to the outside now, as Rickey runs at TATSUMI and kicks the sickle out of his hand. TATSUMI turns around, only to be hoisted up into powerbomb immediately. Dragon, who is now rising accidentaly headbutts Rickey in the groin and then collapses back to the mat. TATSUMI drops down and applies a standing head scissors. He underhooks both of Rickey's arms and then lifts him up. Instead of a powerbomb though, TATSUMI holds him vertical and drops hims with a double underhook piledriver.]

["OOOHHH"]

Jeff: What in the hell do you call that!?!

Tim: Well, I think it's Noushi... which loosely translates into Brain Death...

Jeff: Does it ever...

[Tatsumi stays on him for the pin, as Dragon and Billy both stay down. The Japanese fans count along in English.]

[One... ...Two... ...THREE!!]

Tim: They beat the champs...

Jeff: ...but not for the belts!!

[The crowd gives both teams a standing ovation as The Juppongatana hits the speakers once again. Technicians run from the back to help all four men, as the ref hands the titles back to the Wrecking Crew.]

Tim: If the Warriors of the Rising Sun BETA can repeat that performance at Parade of Cannibals 3, we'll have new champs.

Jeff: That's a big IF though, Tim...

Tim: Surely is. [The cameras stay on TATSUMI, who now slowly rises to his feet for more cheers. Suddenly, however, the cameras cut to show Chris Davison walking out of the building, with his bag in his hand. He reaches in his pocket, and pulls out a set of car keys, then keeps walking. When he finally reaches his car, his eyes widen to the size of dinner plates, and he drops the bag AND the keys.]

Davison: WHAT THE FUCK?!?!?!

[The camera shows Davison's car, which is tore up to HELL. ALL the windows are broken, the windshield wipers are snapped off, the tires are ALL flat, there's dents all around the car, and finally, to top it off, on the side of the car.. the words "FUCK OFF" are SCRATCHED into the car.]

Tim: HOLY SHIT!

Jeff: Look at Davison's fucking car!!

Tim: It was all that guy's fault, I tell you! I bet you ANY ammount of money this was his doing!

Jeff: I wouldn't doubt it.

[Davison's almost to the point of crying while he's looking over his car. He stands back and takes a look at it again, then just lets his head drop. Suddenly, the sound of tires screeching are heard, as the camera quickly pans to the other end of the lot. Two headlights are seen, as a cherry red Corvette with tinted windows flies forward right at Davison!]

Tim: LOOK OUT!!

[Davison dives outta the way of the speeding car, as it blows by him. Chris gets up quickly and looks at the car, as it stops at the exit to the garage. A hand comes out of the driver's side window, and it flips the bird in Davison's direction. And the thing is, the hand is wearing a black leather glove!]

Jeff: That's the guy that fucked up Davison's ride!!

[Chris puts two-and-two together, and starts running after the car.]

Chris Davison: COME BACK HERE MOTHERFUCKER!!

[The hand goes back inside the car, and it screeches off and pulls out the garage. Chris is unable to catch up to the car in time, and he sits there, with the most angry look you've ever seen on his face. He curses out loud at the top of his lungs, as he kicks at the ground. The camera pans over and shows Davison's wrecked car, and the cameras slowly fade to black as Saturday Suicide goes off the air.]