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April 21st, 2001

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[6:55 pm | The Fukuyama Industrial Hall, Hiroshima Japan]

[Chris Davison is shown, stretching backstage in full ring attire. His right leg is stretched out in front of him, his left bent perpendicularly to his right. The camera approaches slowly, but Davison stands back up normally and tosses his hair behind him with the shake of his head.]

Chris Davison: Last thoughts before the big match, right?

[The camera bobbed with the nod.]

Chris Davison: Alright, I have several. Looking out over that audience, and knowing full well what this match is all about... I don't mind saying I'm nervous. I'm not afraid... not scared of anything, not Storm, the Inner Circle, anything... but nervous. Knowing that an extra ten, fifteen feet could very well mean being crippled gives you those exciting thoughts and feelings.

[He chuckles wryly.]

Chris Davison: But knowing this also gives me ideas... because I would love nothing more to see Jonathan Storm beg for mercy, with me ready to send him back to the locker room with nothing but a loss in his book. But Storm is far too proud, as am I, to ever beg. He is far too proud, far too intelligent to understand that I have no mercy for him, he that has crossed the Rubicon in my eyes.

[His poetic speech stops as he looks right into the camera.]

Chris Davison: Storm. I know you're watching. I know you can see this on a monitor backstage. And I warn you that tonight just may be one of the most dangerous matches you have ever fought... PERIOD.

[He steps past the camera and disappears, as we cut to the arena. "Dig" by Mudvayne bursts through the speakers as the Japanese crowd gives the HWF a standing ovation. Tim and Jeff are seated at ringside, and the camera cuts to them. You hear a very faint "H-W-F" chant from the Hiroshima crowd, as "Mud" slowly dies down to nothing.]

Tim: Hello HWF fans, and welcome to Saturday Suicide!!

Jeff: We ave the Quarterfinals of the World Title Tournament this week, as well as a Canadian Title Match!

Tim: We're short on time, so let's get this thing underway...

[Through out the arena the lights fade out as the twisted melodic begining of Marilyn Manson’s “Sweet Dreams” plays. From the center of the arena floor a door begins to open emmitting a blinding blue beam of light straight up to the ceiling. Walking up from the hole, by what looks like a set of stairs, comes Havoc. Stepping onto the ramp he waits letting the light of the spot almost absorb him. Smiling, Havoc steps out of the light as he walks down to the ring, the blue light going out behind him is replaced in the ring with a red spot shooting straight down in the center of the ring. Through the darkness Havoc walks to the ring, climbing the steps he enters the ring by stepping over the ropes. Walking into the light of the red beam Havoc truly looks like a monster as he begins to laugh. As the lights go back on Havoc pulls off his bladed trenchcoat, laying it in the corner. Turing he waits.]

Tim: This man... is a monster. He'll stop at nothing to destroy his opponent. And if he gets by Kyle Solomon in this round of the World Title Tournament, we could very well see our next World Champion in Havoc.

Jeff: For once, Tim, you're making sense. I commend you.

Tim: Good God.

["High Voltage" by Linkin Park hits the speakers as Kyle Solomon appears from the black abyss of the backstage area. With eyes opened focusedly and staring at his opponent, he stands still, facing the ring as the crowd erupts, breaking his stare as Kyle suddenly snaps his head around to see the audience applauding him. He folds his arms while cocking his head up in the air as we can see his forest green 3/4 length pants and black cut-off "Kyle Solomon" t-shirt. The One Man Show now brings focus back to his opponent as he walks slowly down to ringside, biding his time so as not to be unfairly attacked by the anxious man awaiting in the ring for him. Stepping up onto the apron while holding the ropes for balance, Solomon cautiously climbs the turnbuckle, raising his hands in the air to the delight of the crowd, and then drops into the ring...]

Tim: That's the man who defeated Chris Davison in the first round of the tournament. Another strong competitor in the ring, and a very technical thinker. If anyone can take out Havoc, it's Kyle Solomon.

Jeff: Who do you think you are? The host of Biographies? Why don't you tell us what university these two came from! Did they play football in school?

[The bell rings, and Havoc and Solomon are in opposing corners of the ring, looking at each other. Havoc is smiling as he feels his mask and moves his hand to comb his hair. Solomon stands opposite him, right shoulder cocked forward and left arm pulled back ready for attack. Staring deep into Havoc's eyes, Solomon keeps a stone cold glare on his face as he stands absolutely still. Solomon stands his ground as Havoc runs at him with a burst of speed. At the last second, Solomon makes his move as he moves aside and uses Havoc's own momentum against him as he pushes him into the turnbuckle. Havoc hits the buckle face first and stumbles back as Kyle drops him with a falling neckbreaker.]

Tim: The intensity in Kyle Solomon is amazing!

Jeff: He just outsmarted Havoc, and the match has just begun! What a neckbreaker!

[Kyle goes back to the opposite ring post that Havoc just collapsed in, and gets in his stance. Once again, Havoc charges at Solomon. Instead of moving out of the way, Kyle ducks an oncoming clothesline and drop kicks Havoc in the back of his knee. Havoc falls to one leg, and Solomon continues by laying a sitting drop kick to his face. Havoc's head hits the turnbuckle behind him, and he grabs his face, yet still smiling. Havoc lifts himself up using the turnbuckles, and Solomon watches him, no emotions in his face. He and Havoc meet in the middle of the ring and lock up.]

Tim: Havoc has been outsmarted, but he is still laughing. There's something not clicking in that brain of his.

Jeff: Yeah, and now we're seeing some good old fashioned wrestling!

[Kyle struggles, and pushes his feet into the mat to gain some strength. However, he is easily overpowered by Havoc, and thrown down. He was thrown so hard that his head bounced off the mat. Havoc lifts him up, and grabs his throat. The ref breaks the choke hold, but Havoc grabs Solomon by the throat again, and appies a sit-down powerbomb.]

Tim: Impressive power shown here by Havoc. A sit-down chokeslam on Solomon.

Jeff: That was a sit-down powerbomb choke hold extreme! We're in Japan, remember?

[Havoc gets up and laughs at the fallen Solomon. Solomon backs up, holding his throat. He gets up and runs off the ropes. He fakes a crossbody, and dropkicks Havoc's knee again. Havoc falls to one leg. Kyle sets up for another sit-down dropkick, but Havoc spears him as soon as he is in his view. Solomon falls to the ground again, hitting his head hard.]

Tim: If Kyle gets any more blows to the head, he could be in danger of a concussion!

Jeff: All the better. Then Lance Sterling can take his place in the tournament and win back his title!

[Havoc jumps on top of Kyle Solomon and begins to punch him. Lefts and rights, and Solomon tries to block as many as he can. Solomon reaches for the ropes, and grabs them. The ref gets Havoc off of Solomon. Solomon pulls himself up, Havoc rushes for a spear. But Solomon moves out of the way, and Havoc goes flying through the ropes to the guard rail. Havoc holds his head, and tries to get up. Solomon climbs the turnbuckle to the top.]

Tim: Solomon is going for a high risk maneuver here.

Jeff: Yeah, and Havoc took a dive to the concrete floor! He's gonna be mad!

[Solomon waits on the top rope, balancing himself. As Havoc gets to his feet, Solomon jumps off and plants a HUGE hurricanrana on Havoc. Havoc flips to the floor, holding his back. Solomon tries to recover as well.]

["H-W-F! H-W-F! H-W-F!"]

Tim: Picture PERFECT Hurricanrana from Kyle Solomon! From the top rope onto Havoc!

Jeff: He'll get his revenge, don't worry.

[Kyle rolls Havoc into the ring, and quickly pins him.]

[One......Two..... Kick out!]

Jeff: Havoc won't give up that easily!

Tim: I agree.

[Kyle grabs Havoc by the hair and pulls him up. Havoc elbows Solomon to the gut. And again. Then he knees Kyle's gut, and hits a gutwrench powerbomb. Havoc quickly follows the powerbomb with a legdrop, and Kyle squirms around the mat holding his face. Havoc lifts Solomon up, and throws him into the turnbuckle. The impact of the throw makes Kyle flip over the turnbuckle and end up on the outside.]

Tim: Look at the power!

Jeff: Tim's starting to sound a little like somone today, *cough*J.R*cough*.

Tim: Idiot.

[Havoc follows Solomon to the outside, and lifts him up. He grabs Kyle's arm again, and tosses him into the ring steps. Kyle screams out loud as he arches his back. Havoc slowly walks over to him, laughing out loud. Havoc grabs Kyle's hair and puts him in a headlock. The ref checks Kyle's arm, and lifts it to check for submission.]

[One.... Two..... Kyle keeps his arm up, and hooks Havoc's leg. He uses his energy to lift Havoc and put him in a Torture Rack, then flip him over into a PILEDRIVER!]

Tim: OH MY GOD! HE JUST PILEDROVE HAVOC INTO THE CONCRETE FLOOR!

Jeff: GET UP HAVOC! GET UP!

[Kyle tosses Havoc into the ring. He puts Havoc into a dragon sleeper position. But Havoc yells out loud and reverses the dragon sleeper, and slams Kyle on the mat in front of him. Kyle holds his back again. Havoc climbs the turnbuckle to the top rope, and raises his arms to the crowd. They boo him, and he jumps off for a flying elbow drop. Once again, at the last second, Kyle Solomon moves out of the way and jumps to his feet. Havoc immediately follows. Kyle grabs Havoc's back in a back suplex position, but Havoc reverses it and ends up behind Kyle. Havoc lifts him, but Kyle uses his strength to come back down. He reverses the position again, and from behind Havoc, he lifts him into the air, turns him upside down, and delivers a sitdown tombstone piledriver!]

Tim: RIGHT ON THE MARK! RIGHT ON THE MARK! THIS ONE IS OVER!

Jeff: NOOOOOO!! HAVOC! DON'T FAIL ME!

[The ref goes down for the count.]

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

["High Voltage" by Linkin Park plays as Kyle gets up, holding his back. He takes his Smackdown title, and walks to the back, looking at Havoc. Havoc looks straight back, eyes full of hate, smiling.]

Tim: And Kyle Solomon is going to Parade of Cannibals 3 to fight for the WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT TITLE!

Jeff: I'm gonna go shoot myself now...

[Commercials.]

[The Extreme screen flashes on to a door backstage. Stepping out from his locker room Kyle Solomon walks towards the back stage, wanting to watch the next few matches. The fans seeing him cheer loud. Heading down the hall he rounds the corner just as a fist flies right into his face. Solomon falling back hits the ground hard; putting his hand to his right cheek he feels the warm sensation of blood trickling down his face. Looking up he sees Havoc walk around the corner, a large smile across his face.]

Tim: Oh my God you've got to be kidding me.

Jeff: Man some people just can't take a loss, sucks to be Solomon.

Solomon: What's this? Upset you lost?

Havoc: No I'm not, I'm just not done with you yet.

[Holding up his fists Havoc smiles sadistically as he looks at his gloves. The gloves looks like normal black finger-less weight lifting gloves but modified, Havoc's glove have the entire back of them, fingers and back of palm, covered with little spikes looking much like the thumbtack spikes. Closing his fist Havoc's hand looks very much like a spiked mace. Bending over Havoc picks up Solomon by the hair and begins to repeatedly punch him in the face. After only 5 hits Solomon's face is covered in blood, Havoc's face however has no emotion to it, he doesn't smile, doesn't laugh; quite different from normal. After the 7th shot Havoc nails a couple shots to Solomon's gut, before he let's Solomon drop to the ground. Havoc walking up next to Solomon crouches down, picking up Solomon's head he cradles it like a child's head.]

Havoc: Kyle, I just wanted to wish you the best of luck in the Heavyweight Tournament. You take care my friend, and we'll be seeing each other soon.

[Havoc palming Solomon's face like his finisher begins to ram his head into the floor. With 4 quick shots Havoc slams Solomon's head down very hard in the coup de grace. Standing up Havoc begins to crack up as he watches Solomon bleed heavily.]

Tim: This is just too damn sick.

Jeff: I love it, I don't get it but I love it.

Tim: How can you say that, this shit is sick

Jeff: Easy, Havoc's got balls.

[Havoc standing back up walks away chuckling to himself. Rounding a corner just as Solomon's face met Havoc's hand does a chair meets Havoc's face. Havoc stumbling back doesn't fall, shooting his head up he looks as Kyle Corman rounds the corner a chair in his hands. Havoc seeing him actually smiles.]

Havoc: A little pissed are we?

[Corman without a word swings the chair smacking Havoc right along the side of his head. Havoc stumbling back further still doesn't fall. Corman moving in swings the chair again hitting Havoc on the other side of his head, still Havoc doesn't fall. Looking up Havoc begins to chuckle as Corman. ]

Jeff: This is un-fucking-believable.

[Corman enraged as Havoc's laughter swings the chair again even harder to Havoc's forehead. This time the blow knocks Havoc to one knee but still Havoc chuckles.]

Havoc: Are we just a little upset?

Corman: You got that right, you sick fuck!!!

[Swinging the chair again Corman whacks Havoc across the side of his head, this time laying Havoc out. Corman relaxing lets the chair fall to one hand as he walks up to check out Havoc. Rage begins to burn Corman's blood as he still sees a smile across Havoc's face. Havoc seeing the look in Corman's eye begins to crack up, as much as his weaken state will allow.]

Tim: I don't believe this.

Jeff: Damn this is awesome.

[Corman lifting the chair again begins to slam the chair down over and over on Havoc's face and chest. With ever blow Corman deals Havoc laughs louder then before. After the 5th shot Corman in a rage gives up as he throws the chair away and walks away, leaving Havoc still laughing.]

Tim: This is insane

Jeff: Havoc's insane...

[The scene changes to Shawn Collins' office. He's watching the monitor and frowning.]

Shawn: Havoc just cant go around attacking everyone! And since Corman wants in so badly... I think I'm going to do both of them a favour. Havoc will meet Kyle Corman at Parade of Cannibals 3 in a... SHOWTIME MATCH!

Tim: A Showtime match?

Jeff: Yes! A Showtime match! We'll be back!

[Commercials.]

[Cut backstage. Shawn Collins is walking down a hallway, carrying a briefcase. He smiles at the camera, then flips it off as he walks past it. Collins takes a sharp right and opens a door marked "Vice President".]

Jeff: Collins is going to see Bisc Limpkit! Maybe he's going to ask Bisc to join the Inner Circle!

Tim: Yay.

[The camera switches to a shot of Bisc's desk and Collins, sitting in a chair. Shawn sits on the edge of the seat, setting his briefcase on the edge of the desk and popping the locks. He pulls a few papers out and pushes them across the large, mahogony desk.]

Shawn Collins: There's our ratings and all that crap. Drake wanted me to get it around to you and Chaz... so, there ya go. Now, you wanted to see me about something?

[Bisc Li swivels in his chair.]

Bisc Li: Yes, I did, you mankey. You used to know Mayhem, before he came to HWF, right?

Shawn Collins: Yeah. What's your point, monkeydick?

Bisc Li: My POINT, MONKEY DICK, is that that little nutso attacked Claire. He was stalking her cute ass last week. How are we supposed to be making out in my limo when she's running from that crazy psycho?!

Shawn Collins: What's your point? I don't know anything about it.

Bisc Li: I figured... I dunno. That you might know something about him, psychologically. You know... is he a few sprays short of a White Mist, that sort of thing?

Shawn Collins: I have no idea, honest.

[Collins' beeper goes off. He checks it and then looks at Bisc.]

Shawn Collins: Let's go man... party in the Inner Circle locker room... you're invited. This'll reek of somethingosity, I know it.

Bisc Li: Ugh. I guess I can, just for a while.

Shawn Collins: Great... you need a break.

[The two men walk out of Bisc's office, Collins' suitcase still open on the desk. Cut back to ringside.]

Tim: Lovely.

Jeff: I wanna go to THAT party! WOOO HOO! Inner Circle kicks ass!

Tim: Shoot me now.

[We cut backstage into a locker room of some type. Our eyes scan the room, finding it somewhat bare. A few bags and suitcases can be seen, but it's mostly devoid of signs of life. We pan to the left and see three forms. It only takes us a second to identify these distinct forms as Rickey Williams, 'Wildcat' Billy Williams, and Joanna. Billy has a heavy bandage on his arm and Joanna has quite a few visible bruises. The relative silence of the scene is broken by a knock on the door. Rickey heads over and answers it. We can't see who it is, but we can hear a few words being exchanged. Finally Rickey steps back and we see the Warriors BETA, TATSUMI and Darkside Dragon, enter the room.]

Wildcat: What the hell do you want?!

TATSUMI: Billy... I know we've had our problems in the past, but I must commend you on last week's match. You did the right thing by helping Joanna, and that masked man was a coward for exploiting it.

Dragon: TATSUMI and I just wanted to stop by and see how Joanna was doing...

TATSUMI: And you as well, Billy.... How's the arm?

Joanna: Well, my left cheek hurts a little but I...

Wildcat: Hey look, Don't worry about me and I won't worry about you. We'll take care of our own, so just march your ass back where ya came from.

TATSUMI: I'm sorry... we just wanted to stop by because we thought what happened in last week's match was uncalled for.

Dragon: Matches should be decided by the participants, not by some masked man who marches out to ringside and-

Rickey: What a load of bullshit! Ya barge in here, askin' how banged up we are? I know Dragon here ran to the back right before the match started! You probably went to go fetch a sledgehammer to thump some popknots on us. Probably locked me in a closet too! You gonna use a sledgehammer on us now, huh?

TATSUMI: How could you insinuate such things?! We are men of honor, we'd never do anything like that!

Rickey: Honor my ass!

[With that Rickey lunges at TATSUMI and nails him the face with a quick left. Dragon tries to pull Rickey away only to be nailed by Billy with a stiff right. Joanna stumbles back to a safe distance as a brawl ensues. The four men trade punches back and fourth until finally security bursts into the room. It takes some effort, but the four men are finally pulled apart, and the Warriors are escorted from the room.]

Tim: Man, I can't wait for that match this Sunday.

Jeff: But, right now, we have to go to another Williams.

[The roaring HWF crowd, stirs in anticipation, as the opening riff of "Save Yourself" by Stabbing Westward plays, the fans blend in noise, as green pyros abruptly go off, as the Canadian born, "Vicious" Vic Williams steps out and stalks down the isle. Piercings shine from his nose, lip, and right eyebrow, and his black military boots slightly flicker, under the strobe lights. Fitted in black tights, with a purple and silver, gothic like barbwire design run up his legs, and his bare chest bares all his tattoos. Black designs under his eyes can be noticed, as he runs down the aisle, and enters the ring, his black trenchcoat trailing behind, he stands in the ring, arms outward, head tilted to the sky, as the lights, flash back on.]

Tim: Alright, it looks like we're ready for our second Quarterfinal match of the night...

Jeff: Yeah... and this one features a midget!!

Tim: Wha!?!

Jeff: You'll see...

[Suddenly "Heavy" by Collective Soul hits over the PA System, and the lits go dim. Blue strobe lights begin to circle through the crowd as Gavin Coens steps out from behind the curtain. He begins to walk down the ramp but stops for a moment, he turns back towards the entrance way and points. Out of nowhere a small midget dressed in a black suit runs out from behind the curtain. The fans give off a small pop, as Gavin allows the midget to walk in front of him. The midget pauses every 5 steps or so and takes a look at the crowd, just to insure that no one is gonna try and hurt is client. Gavin finally makes it down to the ring and tells the midget to stand in his corner. The music stops and Gavin begins to debate with the midget on their plan for the match.]

Tim: Now, that's just ridiculous.

Jeff: *hysterical* Look at that little guy!! Don't mess with him!!

Tim: *laughing a little* Please, just start the match.

[Vic gets a pissed off look on his face and then runs for the midget. Gavin sees him though, and catches him with a clothesline. The midget flips off Vic, much to the fans liking, and then hops out to the outside. Gavin lifts up Vic now, and scoop slams him to the ground. Vic is quick to his feet, and uppercuts Gavin. Gavin staggers back a little, catching his breath, and Vic levels him with a high flipping dropkick. Gavin spills t othe outside, where the midget quickly runs over to help him up.]

Jeff: Look at that little guy run!!

[The midget helps Gavin up to his feet, as Vic grabs the ropes for a springboard. He whips himself up onto the top rope, and springs off into a front flip. Gavin throws the midget out of the way, and takes the brunt of the fall from Vic. Vic quickly gets u pand goes right for the apron. He reaches underneath and pulls out a thin japanese table, which he sets up right next to the apron. Vic rolls in quickly, to break the countout, and then reaches under the apron again. He comes out with another thin table, and sets that up right next to the announce table. Vic goes to roll in again, but Gavin pulls him back and delivers a DDT on the floor. Gavin, now, picks up Vic and throws him into the ring.]

Tim: Good action so far in this matchup.

Jeff: Yeah, and that midget!!

[Gavin gets in the ring and pulls Vic to his feet. Vic quickly slaps away Gavin's hands and dros him with a jawbreaker. Gavin quickly pops up to his feet, only to be caught in a front chancery. Vic quickly pulls Gavin's arm and switches it into an inverted facelock. Vic spins his body around and drops gavin hard with an inverted swigning neckbreaker.]

Tim: Vic calls that one Dead on Arrival!

Jeff: Does he ever...

[Vic picks up Gavin again and hits him with a plam thrust to the nose. Gavin staggers back, and gets hit with a roundhose kick to the head - then another to the shoulder, and then one to the ribs. Vic goes for a backspin fist to finish the 'Warrior Combo' but Gavin ducks it and kicks him in the gut. Gavin grabs Vic by the arm and irish whips him to the ropes. Vic bounces off, and ducks under a Gavin Coens leapfrog. Vic immediately turns around and jumps on Gavin's shoulders. He tries to throw himself back for a reverse hurricanrana, but Gavin stays standing - leaving Vic hanging upside down.]

Tim: OH NO!

[The crowd lets out a big "OOOHHH" as Gavin grabs Vic's legs and then locks his head in a bulldog. Gavin spins a little, and then drops Vic to the mat with a modified inverted kryptonite krunch. He quickly goes for a pin.]

Jeff: HOLY SHIT!!

Tim: What innovation by Coens!!

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

Tim: Couldn't get him though...

[Gavin lifts up Vic and brings him over to the ropes, by the tables Vic setup earlier. Gavin punches Vic in the gut, sending Vic reeling back next to the ropes. Gavin backs up a little, winks at the midget, and then runs at Vic. Vic quickly reacts and drops Gavin with a flapjack right across the top rope. The crowd cheers as Gavin dangles over a tabel on the outside. Vic hops out to the apron, and then steps onto the middle of the second rope. Vic hooks Gavin around the waist like a standing head scissors and then lifts him up for a piledriver. Vic looks behind him and then jumps from the second rope and drives Gavin through the japanese table with the piledriver. The crowd cheers loudly, as the table snaps straight down the center and both men fall to the floor.]

Tim: Second Rope Piledriver through the table!!

Jeff: NO! The Almighty Gavin must win!!

Tim: I dunno man, Vic looks tenacious tonight...

[The referee begins the 10 count on both men, who are motionless on the outside. The midget, however, dives into the ring and begins doing a jig in the center of the ring. The crowd laughs, as the referee becomes distracted trying to get him to leave. The midget begins grinding on the ref's leg as the ref tries to run away. Vic finally gets up on the outside and throws Gavin onto the second table, by the announce table.]

Tim: Watch out Jeff...

Jeff: *still laughing at midget dancing* Whatever man...

[The midget keeps dancing in the ring, as Vic hops up onto the apron. Without hesitation, Vic dives off for an elbow drop through the table. Gavin rolls off onto the announce table though and Vic lands hard on the table - but doesn't break it. Gavin slowly pulls himself to his feet and looks at Vic, who is laying prone on the table. Gavin winks down at Tim and the laughing Jeff, and then moonsaults off the announce table. Gavin lands right on Vic and the table snaps in two. The crowd cheers again, as the midget now dives out of the ring.]

Tim: Gavin from our table with a Moonsault!!

Jeff: Man, I gotta find out who that midget is... He's great!!

[Gavin slowly gets up, and grabs Vic by the hair. He throws Vic into the ring, and then slowly crawls up onto the ropes. The ref stops his new count, as Gavin gets to the top turnbuckle. Vic gets up in the ring, as Gavin dives off the top rope. Vic quicly grabs the falling gavin and drops him with an x-factor. Gavin pops right up to his feet and then does a Flair-fall back onto his face.]

Jeff: Nice facebuster by the Vicious One.

[Vic quickly gets up with a second wind and lifts Gavin to his feet. He quickly grabs him for a fireman's carry, and tries to swing him around into a flapjack but Gavin reverses it into a tornado DDT. Vic rolls right up to his feet and stumbles back towards Gavin. Gavin catches him in a fallaway slam position. Gavin holds him there for a second, but Vic knees him right in the kidney. Gavin drops Vic onto his feet and Vic immediately drops him with a reverse russian legsweep.]

Tim: 3D OUT OF NOWHERE!!

Jeff: WHAT!?!

[Vic goes for the pin on Gavin, as the midget climbs onto the apron.]

Jeff: It's over...

[One... ...Two... ...THRE..KICKOUT!!]

Tim: What!?! He kicked out of 3D!!

[Vic smirks a little, and then flips Gavin over onto his back. Vic begins walking towards the near turnbuckle, but gets distracted as Gavin's midget jumps into the ring again. The midget looks really scared, as Vic begins walking for him. Vic corners the midget and then grabs him by the hair. The crowd boo's as Vic lifts up the midget in a scoop slam and drops hi mwith a michinoku driver 2.]

Jeff: *laughing* Last Rites on the little guy!!

Tim: Now that's just wrong!!

[Vic gets up and looks down at the midget. The ref checks on Gavin, who stirs a little, as Vic lifts up the midget and begins yelling at him. Gavin gets a surge of energy at the sight of this and quickly locks on a double arm bar hold on Vic. The midget drops to the ground as Gavin trips Vic into a front russian legsweep.]

Jeff: CARDINAL SYN!! HE HIT IT!!

[Gavin quickly goes for the pin.]

Tim: And advnacing in the tournament will be...

[One... ...Two... ....THRE...KICKOUT!!]

Tim: ...nobody yet!!

[Gavin looks at Vic in disbelief, and then to the midget. The midget gets a pissed off look on his face and then begins stomping on Vic. The ref pulls the midget off, as the midget begisn grinding on Vic's face. The ref escorts the midget to the outside of the ring, as Gavin pulls Vic up to his feet. Gavin glares at the ref, and then knees Vic right in the groin.]

Tim: FOUL PLAY!!

[Gavin quickly spins Vic around into an inverted facelock, and lifts him up. Vic stalls in the air, completely vertical, and then Gavin drops straight down to the mat. Another big "OOOHHH" as Vic lands on the top of his head and then flops onto his stomach. Gavin quickly rolls Vic over and pins him ,as the ref turns around.]

Jeff: That was incredible!!

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

Tim: FINALLY!!

[The bell sounds as Gavin rolls off of Vic to the outside. The midget helps Gavin up as "Heavy" hits the speakers yet again. Gavin slowly walks to the back, as Vic gets up in the ring and watches him leave.]

Tim: What a match folks, I hope staff has something good planned for these quarterfinal losers.

Jeff: Yeah, they have been giving it their all tonight.

Tim: Wait, folks... once again... something's going on backstage.

Jeff: You know, this show i-

Tim: Shut your weasly mouth, ho.

Jeff: Oooooooooooh.... fine. I'm pouting.

Tim: Bleh.

[Cut backstage, in Bisc's office again. A knock on the door is heard. It's repeated, and finally the door just opens. Claire Matthews comes strolling in, carrying a bottle of champagne.]

Claire Matthews: Oh Bisky... I thought we could celebrate Trey's destruction again over a bottle of... oh. You're not here.

[She spots the briefcase, sitting open on the desk. Claire sets the bottle beside it and starts glancing through papers.]

Claire Matthews: Hmm... what's all this stuff, Bisky?

[Claire removes a paper from a folder. It's stamped Top Secret on the top, but she starts to read it anyway.]

Claire Matthews: Top Secret, eh? He won't care. Lessee.... "By tapping into his hidden personality.... blah blah blah... unlocking the id, which according to Freud... etc etc..." Wait a minute. "Slowly, Mayhem is becoming a second, more destructive and psychotic version of himself." ....

[Claire pauses, now totally engaged in reading.]

Claire Matthews: ... "Using hypnosis and suggestion, I have harnessed the will of this monster to a certain extent and am now proceeding with the second step: putting him to use." Oh... my... god. Bisc is the one behind Havoc. But... that... he... he stalked me last week. Why would Bisc do that to me? If he's in control, why would Havoc do that, unless Bisc ordered it?!

[She becomes more curious, and pulls a few more papers from the folder.]

Claire Matthews: Top Secret again... I think a little too secretive, Duane. Wait a minute... dated last November and December... "The first hypnotic session took place today. It was pretty easy to get her in my office. I simply had them both come in, and after speaking with Michael, I dismissed him and spoke with her." ... her?

[Claire reads forward.]

Claire Matthews: .... "Using several deep-trance inducing drugs and several levels of hypnotic sugggestion, she is now under my control." ............... "While her unconscious has a mean streak, the difference between her id and her regular personality is not too far apart."............ "Luckily, I am able to turn her against her fiance using hypnotic suggestion. In fact, the whole plot to torture Michael Trey is in place.".......... "Claire doesn't even realize what's happened."

[Claire's breath catches in her throat when she reads that line.]

Claire Matthews: Oh my fucking GOD! Bisc.... damnit, that Aussie whore was messing with my mind this whole time! ... I threw everything with Michael, all away, just for Bisc. Because of some damn mind control?! ........ it's all coming back now. What have I done? What did HE do?!

[The door to the office opens. It's Bisc Li.]

Bisc Li: Hey babe-a-licious. Come onnnnnnnnnn... there's a great party five doors down! .... what? You look like you've seen a ghost!

Claire Matthews: No. An asshole.

[Bisc moves towards Claire, but she kicks him square in the package. He falls, crumpled in a heap. She jumps over him, kicking him in the ribs for good measure. She grabs the few sheets she looked at and runs out of the office.]

Claire Matthews: Gotta find Michael... gotta find Michael... gotta find Michael...

[Bisc moans on the ground as she locks him in from the outside, running down the hall as the scene cuts to commercial.]

[Commercials]

[The camera switches to Jon Storm walking to his locker room. He opens the door and drops his bag inside. He takes a few steps and is about to close to the, but…]

??: Huh... you ready for tonight, kid?

Storm: Who's there?

??: I'm over here, Jon. Take a look.

[Storm peeks around, and sees nothing.]

Storm: You wanna be more specific?

??: Follow my voice, Storm. You've always been good at following...

Storm: Fuck that. I'm a born leader.

??: That's pretty funny, since in the Syndicate you were a pawn for the rest... including your buddy Chris Styles.

Storm: Horse shit. I had the only singles title out of all of us...and everybody knows it. I was the most purely talented one out of the group...and everyone knows it.

??: One after another, Jon...just keep the jokes comin’. I'll laugh sooner or later.

Storm: What the fuck do you want?

??: Well Jon, right now, that's not what you really need to know. What you need to concentrate on is how well you're gunna to do tonight...are you ready...?

Storm: I was fucking born ready, jerky...so if you excuse me, I got a title to win...and a fed to start dominating.

??: Hmph... *a shadow in the corner moves away from the wall. A person with a large black sweater and hood steps halfway into light. The hood is over his face, so he remains in mystery* You better win that title then, Jon, and...you better hope that I didn't take that last remark personally.

Storm: What for? When it's all said and done after Parade of Cannibals, I'll be riding at the top of this company, with the rest of my brothers. Where my last stable fucked up...we cover that flaw. We were too dysfunctional, but this is different. We're ALL on the same page.

??: Hmph... the problem was with YOU, Jon... And you’re still thinking the exact same way. That’s what ruined the Syndicate.

Storm: What? That I'm going somewhere? That I'm destined for bigger and better things? Hell, we all got those thoughts.

??: No Storm... you thought you were above the rest of the Syndicate. Even with Teen Angst as champions - taking out so many people in the process of BECOMING tag champions... you still thought they were SHIT when put up against you. You thought Thrilla was your lapdog... you saw Styles as your backup... you saw Spike as a nuisance...

Storm: Thrilla was my running mate, Styles was my ally, and Spike? Well, *chuckle* let's not get into the "Hardcore" Hoodlum.

??: Oh...? And why not? Let's think Storm... Thrilla was nothing to you. Styles was nothing to you... but Spike... he was more. He was as strong, if not stronger than you. You were his rival, not his partner.

Storm: Because Spike was weak. I could count on Styles, and I could count on Thrilla, but Spike was always busy doing his own thing. He wants me watching his back, but he's too good to return the favour...not to mention he had an attitude worse than all of us.

??: Still the joker, eh Storm? Why do you think he never backed you up?

Storm: Because he was an arrogant ass...end of story.

[Storm slams his locker room door shut and leaves. The camera turns to a wall poster… advertising one of the HWF’s affiliates – the XCW. On the front of the poster is a collage of Genocyde, Damien Geist, Gary Luger, The Gino, Shane Sinclair... and “Flawless” Mike Lawless.]

Tim: Who was that guy?

Jeff: I dunno... but I DO know who's coming out next...

[A funky wah-wah guitar rif bumps out of the PA.... The words "Sir... Psycho... Sexy!!!" flash on screen as they are anounced by a loud electronic voice, as the chorus of the Red Hot Chili Peppers song of the same name plays out. Clips of Silky lounging in bed, scantily clad women crawling all over like ferets hopped up on ecstacy... Walking out to get his mail in a gold thong... delivering his arsenal of moves on a plethora of opponents. Silky bursts through the curtain to the accompanyment of many a cat call and hollar... Silky does a deep double bicep pose, then continues to strut his way to the ring. You notcie that Silky's wearing a French maid outfit, headpiece, feather duster and all. When he gets close enough, he springs onto the apron, and then, using the top rope for leverage, flips over into the ring, dramatically swings his arms, spins into the center of the ring, and hits another pose to the accompanyment of a four corner-pyro-fountain. He stands and begins to throw down his feather duster and headpiece, and calls for a microphone. They throw one into him and he begins to speak.]

Silky: See this outfit, Tempest? This is the type of outfit YOU should be wearing! The type of JOB a little GIRL like you should aspire to... NOT rolling around on the ground with sweaty men! I'd inquire as to WHAT kind of lady your mother was for you to have been brought up like this... but, well... she obviously wasn't a LADY to have a little tom boy-tramp like you for a daughter. Heh... you're better off NOT having known her... you'd have just wound up that much worse!

[The crowd boo's as they see the translation on the Extream Screen.]

Silky: So come on down here, climb into the ring, and lie on your back for me like a GOOD little girl... just like Mommy raised you to be!

[Silky throws the mic down. The low electronic hum that begins the Lo-Fidelity All-Stars’ "Battle Flag" wafts over the arena as the lights go out, but for a few blue strobes, flickering over the crowd in time. As the heavier beat kicks in, the blue spot light scans the entrance, and up the HWF-tron to find Tempest striding toward the ring. She raises her arms and waves to the appreciative crowd. She smiles, but it fades as soon as she spies Silky taunting her from the ring.]

Tim: Alright, let's get this one underway...

[The bell rings out. Tempest bolts forward and slides in as Silky leaps over to stomp on her, but she rolls, then somersaults up and to her feet just under his nose. She looks shocked but only briefly as she rears back and head butts him in the chin.]

Jeff: Hey! She can’t do that!

Tim: No, she doesn’t usually do that.

[Silky staggers, clutching his mouth for a moment and Tempest takes the opportunity to run the ropes and leap into a flying drop kick. Silky drops to the mat as Tempest starts to get the crowd going. Tempest picks up Silky and whips him to the ropes. He boucnes off and Tempest launches him itn othe air with an amazing hurricanrana. Silky quickly gets up again, as Tempest attempts another irish whip. Silky reverses it into an arm wringer though, drops Tempest with a sweeping kick, and then elobw drops her right in the throat.]

Tim: As much as I hate to say it, beautiful wrestling by Silky Palms.

Jeff: That's right!! The Sexmachine is taking it to the house!!

Tim: Taking it where, now?

[Silky lifts up Tempest and then throws her into a corner. Tempest comes right out and Silky attempts a hiptoss. Tempest lands on her feet, however, and takes Silky over with a japanese armdrag. Silky quickly gets up, only to be hiptossed over himself. He pops up again, and Tempest attempts a roundhouse kick. Silky ducks and then levels Tempest with a kick right to the abdomen. Silky grins, signalling for the Show Stoppa, now.]

Tim: He's going to try to put this one away early...

[Silky fires the stiff shuffle side kick, but Tempest ducks the leg, then stands up, holding it in her hands. She leaps up, but with a very low drop kick that connects with The Sexmachine square in the groin.]

Jeff: NO WAY!

Tim: Silky's testicles have been traumatized!

[Tempest wastes no time going for the pin.]

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

Jeff: Not yet, lady...

Tim: Lady?

[Tempest hops up to her feet and lifts up Silky. She locks on a rear waistlock and attempts to lift Silky over for a german suplex. Silky blocks it though and does a little grind dance. The crowd begins laughing as Tempest begins to get mad. She begins punching Silky furiously in the back of the head, but Silky mule kicks backwards and low blows her. Tempest drops to the ground as Silky does the 'lemme hear it' Hul Hogan psoe to the crowd. They cheer him again, as he lifts up Tempest to her feet.]

Tim: This crowd really likes Silky, even after those harsh words he had to say about Tempest.

Jeff: That just proves my theory.

Tim: What's that?

Jeff: The Japanese love Silky Palms!!

[Silky backs Tempest to the turnbuckles and begins laying in bodyshots on her. She tries to cover up, but that just allows Silky to nail a few blows to the head. Tempest stumlbes out of the corner now, and Silky whips her to the ropes. As she runs back, Silky lifts her right up into a gorilla press. The fans yell out their big "OOOHHH" as Silky holds her up there for a good 10 or 12 seconds. Silky drops her and tries to catch Tempest in mid-air for the Silk Streem, but she twists at the last moment and grabs him around the neck for a reverse DDT. They both hit the mat hard, but as Silky clutches his neck, Tempest rolls away. She darts back in and pulls him to his feet, claming him in a side headlock. Then she runs toward a corner and up the turnbuckles, flipping back over into a Rottweiler.]

Tim: ROTTWEILER!! ROTTWEILER!!

[Tempest acts as if she'll go for the pin, but then pulls Silky to his feet hastily. She leaves him staggering in the center of the ring, and then leaps onto the second rope. She gives the cut-throat signal and then jumps off the second rope. Tempest tries to DDT Silky from the second rope, but Silky catches her and spike her to the ground with a sitdown spinebuster.]

Jeff: What a reversal by The Sexmachine!!

Tim: This match has been back and forth the whole time...

[Silky gets up to his feet, holding the back of his head, and then pulls up Tempest. He picks her up in a scoop slam and slams her down to the ground. Silky quickly bounds up to the top rope. Silky girates his hips a little and then leaps off - performing a PERFECT twisting senton bomb right onto Tempest. The crowd cheers a little, as Silky rolls over for the pin.]

Jeff: Could the Sex bomb do it!?!

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

Tim: Wow... I thought he had Tempest...

[Silky gets a bit upset and then gets up. He waits for tempest to rise, and then runs at her. Tempest ducks and attempted clothesline and watches Silky fly across the ring and bounces off the ropes, she raise her fists like she’s going to punch him and he smirks. But as he bolts toward her, she drops and grabs the top rope. He sails over it and crashes through the announce table.]

Tim: Oh my god Jeff? Hey, we lost Jeff... cool.

[Before Silky can recover, Tempest scrambles up the nearest set of turnbuckles. The crowd roars as she raises her arms and leaps into a twisting, soaring version of a 450 splash and comes down hard on Silky’s stomach.]

Tim: Oh my God! What a splash! but...

[Tempest hooks the leg but no one’s counting. She looks around as Jeff recovers his mic and yells at her.]

Jeff: No ya stupid cow! Ya have to pin him in the ring!

[Tempest shoots him a warning glance and scowls as she stands up and starts to drag Silky’s limp body toward the ring. She looks frustrated because she can’t lift him and stands frowning a moment. Then she gets a devious smile on her face and walks over to the remains of the announce table. She scoops up a handful of ice and broken glass from a shattered pitcher and walks over to Silky.]

Jeff: Oh no... she can’t be thinking...

[She is. She reaches down and pulls out the front of his pants and stuffs the ice and glass down them. Instantly conscious he screams and leaps to his feet. Tempest stands there laughing but suddenly gets clotheslined right in the face by Silky's fist.]

Jeff: How you like that!?!

Tim: Silky Palms just Pimp Slapped Tempest after getting that ice poured down his pants...

Jeff: Oh, and don't forget the glass.

[Silky begins fishing out the ice and glass, as Tempest recovers and rolls into the ring. Tempest lays down in the ring, as Silky finally finishes up and rolls in himself. Silky imediately signals towards the entrance way, as Jack Daddy appears.]

Jeff: Hey, it's The Mack!!

[Silky waits in the ring, as Jack trots down to the ring and gets in. Both men grab Tempest now and double whip her to the ropes. Tempest bounces off, and they attempt a double back body drop. Tempest hangs onto both Silky and Jack's heads and SPIKES them hard with a double DDT. The crowd cheers, as Jack spills onto the apron and Silky rolls to the corner. Jack gets up on the apron, facing the crowd, as Tempest scurries up to the near turnbuckle. Jack looks over as Tempest as Tempest flies off. She hooks Jack around the neck, and then whips The Mack over with a flying hurricanrana. She drops onto her feet, as Jack flips onto the guardrail. Jack's legs hit the gauardrail and he drops RUDELY onto his neck. The crowd gasps, as another woman appears in the entrance way.]

Jeff: Get some help out here for The Mack!!

Tim: Yeah, I agre... Wait, who's that!?!

[Tempest hops up onto the apron and onto the top rope, as this mystery woman runs down to the ring. Silky hugs onto the referee now, as Tempest stands on the top rope. This mystery woman, decked out in red latex pants a matching halter top, hops onto the apron and crotches Tempest on the top rope. The crowd boo's as the mystery woman drops to the ground. The camera finally gets a shot of her face now.]

Tim: Hey, I know her!!

Jeff: Why I'll be... That's Inferna from the SWF!!

Tim: My God!! It IS!!

[in the ring, Silky runs over to Tempest. He grabs her with a gorilla press again and qucikly switches it right into a cutter. He goes for the quick pin.]

Jeff: SILK STREEM!!

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

Tim: Silky won!?!

Jeff: YES!!

[The bell sounds, as Inferna gets up and dives into the ring. She helps Silky up, as his music sounds out again. Tempest lays holding her midsection as Silky stands behind Inferna and starts doing the crotch chop around her. In mid-celebration, however, they see Jack Daddy on the outside - who is already being attended to by EMTs. Silky immediately hops to the outside to tend to Jack Daddy, as Inferna continues watching from inside the ring.]

Jeff: Well, I guess Silky's advancing in the tournament.

Tim: Yeah, but the real story here is the future of Jack Daddy...

[The fans begin to cheer, as Tempest gets up in the ring and stand behind Inferna. Inferna turns around to see what's happening, and gets slapped right in the face.]

Jeff: HEY!

[Inferna drops to a knee, as Tempest runs to the ropes. She comes back, leaps into a headscissors, and drops Inferna down face-first with her leg. The crowd cheers bigtime, as Silky dives back in the ring and chases Tempest away. "Battle Flag" interrupts Silky's music, as Tempest parades away.]

Tim: Tempest just dropped Inferna with the System Crash!!

Jeff: Why? What'd Inferna do?

Tim: Whatever... It looks like Silky won the battle, but might have lost the war...

Jeff: Grrrr...

Tim: Stay with us...

[Commercials]

[The scene cuts back in. Chris Davison is walking back to his locker room and opens the door. The second he opens the door...]

??: So… nice… to see you again, Chris.

Davison: What? Who is that?

??: It’s not that important, really. I’m just letting you know I'm here... so you don't shit your pants when you brush up beside me.

[Davison looks unfazed.]

Davison: Who are you? And while we're at it... where have I seen you before?

??: You've seen me... around, Chris. You and I... we go waaaaay back. Not recently, though. It's a shame... onto more pressing matters, though. Your match later tonight against Storm. Tell me about it. What's been happening?

[Davison still looks about, towards the source of the voice.]

Davison: Why do you want to know?

??: I need to know how badly Storm is going to lose tonight.

[Davison allows a small chuckle.]

Davison: Badly.

[A shadow detaches itself from a corner, but the person is shrouded by a black hooded sweater. The hood is covering his face, and so, keeps the identity of the speaker a secret.]

??: Good. You'll win the battle, then. But you won't win the war. Think of something else... Storm is with Styles. Storm is with Phoenix. Storm is with Coens. The odds are stacked heavily against you and Tempest if you decide to take them all on by yourself...

[Davison gives a soft laugh.]

Davison: I'm not alone.

??: Don't kid yourself, Chris. Who is going to save you when you can't save yourself...?

[Davison glances up sharply.]

Davison: And why do you simply recite words that you have no understanding of?

??: Because Chris... it's all I have left.

[Chris gives a quizzical stare.]

Davison: Who are you?

[A sharp chuckle comes from the black-clad person just before he lashes out with his hand, splashing water from a small glass into Chris' eyes. Chris is blinded for no more than a few seconds, but when he regains his sight, the person has run out of the room.]

Tim: Damn, who is that guy?

Jeff: Ah, I bet it's Chris Goings...

Tim: You wish.

['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 a corner and he and Dragon call for mics.]

Darkside Dragon: Despite the scuffle with the Wrecking Crew earlier we've decided to come out and address our home country fans...

TATSUMI: This tour of Japan is half over, and we've only been booked on two times!. It pains me to look at that line up card every week and hope, pray even, for a spot. It's a shame that we have to cross our fingers for a chance to perform in front of our home country. I suppose we take backseat to this apparently never ending tournament.

Darkside Dragon: TATSUMI, you should count yourself lucky. I've only performed on ONE date here. Luckily I have a spot set in stone to perform in front of my hometown at PoC 3! For the Tag Titles no less! The biggest match since our return, and it's going to be right in my backyard!

TATSUMI: We should be used to being overlooked by now though. For the past few weeks it's been the same thing again and again... I ask for an extreme match, I get no DQ. I ask for new blood, and I get it, but with a catch. We ask for nothing more than to be able to entertain our home fans in the way we know they want to be entertained, and what do we get?

[Before TATSUMI can continue the arena is filled with the sound of 'Lakini's Juice' by Live. The Warriors, along with all the fans in attendance, turn their attention to the entrance way as Billy and Rickey Williams emerge from the back. The two Texans slowly make their way towards the ring with stern looks on their faces.]

Tim: Looks like business is about to pick up...

Jeff: Oh my god! Please tell me you didn't actually just say that...

[The Wrecking Crew slide into the ring and mics are tossed right to them. Billy and Rickey circle the Warriors BETA a few times before finally stopping nearly face to face with them.]

Wildcat: I tell you what, hoss, your fuckin' speeches are startin' to give me a damn headache. Just shut your damn trap for one second! Every week we gotta sit back there and listen to ya piss and moan over havin' to face the Wreckin' Crew over and over, not havin' any new opponents, what match YOU want for Parade of Cannibals, and a whole load of bullshit. This may be your home country, boys, but one things for damn sure, The Wreckin' Crew don't lie down for nobody, not now and not ever. Lemme tell ya how it's gonna be from here on. First, quit your whining over who ya fight, 'cause it just might earn ya a Certified Public Asswhoopin' right here and right now! Second, Don't worry about wrestlin' new opponents; you'll be nursin' your injuries long after we leave Japan. And last but not least...your little match? Double Hell? Your on. Wreckin' Crew accepts the match, and you can bet your bottom dollar when it's all said and done, one of us ain't never gonna be the same again. Now out of all that talkin' ya did a minute ago, you forgot one little thing.

TATSUMI: And what would that be?!

Rickey: How the hell did this popknot get so big!

[With that Rickey levels Dragon with his Tag Title Belt and Wildcat spears TATSUMI. Big Texas puts the boots to Dragon while Billy yanks TATSUMI up and slaps on a standing gutwrench. Wildcat hauls TATSUMI into the air and plants him with a Gut Wrench Powerbomb as the Japanese crowd voices it's disapproval.]

Jeff: Cowboys fighting Japs... doesn't this seem like something you'd have seen on a Saturday morning cartoon during World War II?

Tim: Don't call them Japs... that's not polite.

Jeff: Would rather me call them gooks like the Big Show?

[With TATSUMI down and out we see Rickey on the other side of the ring pulling Dragon to his feet. Rickey forces Dragon into a standing headscissors and quickly underhooks his arms. Rickey plants Dragon right on the discarded Title belt with the Roughrider (Double Underhook Facebuster). Meanwhile Billy has slid out of the ring and is digging under the apron.]

Tim: Roughrider onto the Tag Title!

Jeff: Hey.. this really is turning out like World War II. The Americans are kicking ass!

[Billy rolls into the ring with a rig girder, much like the ones you'd see bordering the Extream Screen. Billy tosses the girder to Rickey and Big Texas heads for a turnbuckle. Billy turns to find TATSUMI stumbling to his feet in a daze and takes full advantage of his alter state. Billy yanks TATSUMI's legs out from under him, sending him back onto the mat. Wildcat immediately slaps on 8 Seconds (Texas Cloverleaf). By now Rickey is perched on the top turnbuckle, metal girder in hand. Rickey takes flight, bringing the girder down under his leg and slamming down onto TATSUMI with a girder assisted Double Deuce. The girder violently bends across the back of TATSUMI's head, nearly decapitating him. The fans boos are momentarily interrupted by a 'uwhaaa' at the sight of the crazy move.]

Jeff: Oh Sweet Fucking God! Wrecking Crew nearly snapped TATSUMI's little yellow head off!

Tim: A Double Deuce with a rig girder there... TATSUMI has to be knocked out at the very least. He's gonna need some help!

[Wildcat breaks his 8 Seconds on the limp TATSUMI and the two Texans call for beers. Billy and Rickey mount the top turnbuckles and swig back their beers to a deafening chorus of boos from the Japanese crowd. The Crew isn't phased by it though, they just switch turnbuckles and call for more beer, continuing their celebration.]

Tim: Alot of our guys have done things to insult these Japanese fans, but I don't see how Billy and Rickey could get these people to hate them anymore than they do right this minute...

[Rickey keeps pouring beer into his mouth on one corner as Billy looks back and sees Darkside Dragon, dazed and stumbling up. Billy turns on the turnbuckle as Dragon staggers closer. Billy tosses his beer away and leaps into the air, locking his legs around Dragon's head and bringing him over with a well timed Rig Drop (Flying Top Rope Hurricanrana). Rickey hops down off the turnbuckle as Billy starts to locks Dragon in 8 Seconds. Big Texas rushes over as motions for Billy to stop, bringing a lull in the fans near constant booing.]

Tim: Finally... Rickey has come to his senses, he's putting a stop to carnage!

[Rickey lightly pushes Billy back a few feet and then grabs Dragon by the head, pulling him to his knee. Rickey shakes his head towards Billy, indication that 'that's enough'. Billy looks a little puzzled as the two partners stand locked in a blank stare. Finally Rickey reaches down, and in one swift motion he yanks Darkside Dragon's mask right off! The fans again explode into boos as Rickey and Billy burst into laughter. Rickey yanks the maskless Dragon up and The Wrecking Crew plant him with a Double DDT.]

Tim: They've just unmasked Darkside Dragon in his home country!

Jeff: And look... it's Jin Kobayashi! Who would've guessed?!

Tim: Fans, we've seen Jin wrestle maskless, but he's never appeared without a mask in a Japanese ring. I think Crew just crossed the line here...

[The Crew calls for a few more beers as the boos continue. Billy and Rickey roll out of the ring and head back up the ramp, drinking beers and showing off Dragon's mask. Back in the ring TATSUMI and Dragon are left laying, broken and battered, in the middle of the ring.]

Tim: Alright, let's get some help out here... Trey and Styles when we get back.

[Commercials]

[The camera fades back in, and cuts to the announce table, or, what's left of it.]

Tim: Up next is a match I personally have been waiting to see. Michael Trey against Chris Styles!

Jeff: Boo! Hiss! Trey is past his prime!

Tim: Shut up. I'm certain this is going to be a GREAT match, despite Jeff's babbling.

Jeff: Babbling?? Fu--

Tim: Enough. Be quiet already!

["Living In Chaos" by Offspring blazes throughout the arena. The Hiroshima crowd gives a mix reaction as Chris Styles makes his way from behind the curtain. Pausing at the top of the ramp Styles glares around the arena, smirking as he does so. Suddenly, gold, yellow, silver and white pyro-techniques go off all around Styles. As the pyro techniques die down Styles emerges from the smoke, and struts to the ring. Rolling under the bottom rope Styles stands in the middle of the ring and calls for a mic. Boos rise up from the crowd.]

Styles: Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know you people don't want to hear me speak and would like to see Michael Trey kick my ass right now but remember, he is the one who called you midgets.

[The boos grow louder]

Styles: Anyway, Michael, here we are. You want to prove I am nothing but a carbon copy of others before me, here is your chance. But, don't think it will be easy Michael. Yeah, I have said it before but you continue to underestimate me, don't cause well, just do it and you will see. This will be the first blow to the rebirth of Michael Trey, the first step to his second destruction. And even if, "The Favorite," wins the match what is to say he will move past the next round. I don't think you have it in you to go all the way Michael, much like you don't think so of me. Obviously we aren't going to agree so let us move forward.

[The crowds boos have died down, only because the crowd has become to annoyed to bother]

Styles: Tonight, all four members of the Inner Circle compete. Just with tha tyou know it will be an explosive show. First we had Gavin Coens taking on Vic Williams. And we all know how that went so moving on, we have arrived at the second showing of premiere talent, myself against Trey, well, I can tell you this much, It will be a win for the circle and the end of a title run for Michael Trey. Then we have the man who only weeks ago destroyed Trey, Phoenix. And his opponent, well, all I can say is I pity him. Wait...no I don't. This night spells pain for the one Night Stalker. And lastly, Jonathan Storm is to become HWF Canadian Champion for the second time. A feat only accomplished by myself and..ahhh..that guy whose family died. * smirks * And the man to lose the title you ask. Well, Davison, I hope you enjoyed your week in the sun, prepare to be returned to the shadows where you belong.

Styles: Tonight the Canadian Title, and soon enough the Hardcore, World, Smackdown!, and whatever other titles this fed decides to put up for grabs will belong to the Circle. And all the rest of you can do is just sit back, watch, and hope we don't come after you.

[Styles tosses the mic out of the ring and turns his attention to the entrance way, as the remix of "The World is Not Enough" hits the PA system. Michael Trey steps out into full view and wastes no time in running to the ring, enraged by Style's comments]

Tim: And here's Trey! Michael Trey, wasting no time in showing Chris Styles who's the boss!

Jeff: The Inner Circle! That's who the boss is!

[Trey slides under the ropes and gets to his feet quickly, laying into Styles with lefts and rights. He backs Styles up almost to the oppsite corner of the ring, then whips him into the ropes. Styles rebounds off and Trey drops to the ground. Styles jumps over Trey, turns around, and is met with an arm drag. Styles gets to his feet and is taken with with another arm drag, followed by yet another. Trey locks in an armbar and starts yelling at Styles. Styles manages to get to his feet and elbow Trey in the side of the head, breaking the armbar. Styles turns around and nails a flipping dropkick, staggering Trey into the turnbuckle. Styles grabs Trey's arm and sends him into the oppsite corner, but Trey reverses and Styles' head rebounds off the turnbuckle. Trey charges forward, clotheslining Styles up and and over the top rope, to the outside.]

Tim: Trey, with authority, shows Styles that he came here to FIGHT!

Jeff: Tim, you're wrong. Trey came here to lose.

Tim: Then why is he winning right now?

Jeff: .....

[Trey stands on the second rope and motions for Styles to get back in the ring. "Is that all you got?" he screams at the top of his lungs. Styles sneers up at him and slides in the ring, being met with several swift kicks to the midsection before he can even get to his feet. Trey finally breaks away, giving Styles JUST ennough time to get to his feet, before he begins to lay the punches to Styles' mid-section, sending him reeling into the corner. Trey attempts to follow up but Styles blocks his punch and swing Trey around into the corner. Styles begins to mount Trey in the corner. Raising his hands into the air Styles signals a hurricanrana, but when he hops onto Trey's shoulders to peform it Trey reverses it into a hard powerbomb. Styles' body folds up viciously as Trey lays back in the corner]

Tim: WOW! What a counter powerbomb by Trey! I could feel the whole ring tremble!

Jeff [meekly]: Ouch.. [Trey now moves in on Styles who remains on the mat, Trey lifts both of Styles' legs up and attempts to turn him over for a Boston Crab but Styles fights it both ways. Trey getting frustrated attempts to roll Styles over with even more force but Styles blocks it causing Trey to wobble off balance. With this Styles pulls his body up, grabbing Trey's head and swinging his legs back behind him drops to his knees performing a devastating Jawbreaker on Trey]

Tim: Jawbreaker! Styles goes for the cover! One... Two... TREY KICKS OUT!

Jeff: No! Stay down, you bastard! Stay down!

Tim: Shut UP!

[Styles, first to his feet, pulls Trey up also. He hooks both arms and suplexes Trey up and over, slamming his back hard against the mat. Styles stands up and drops a knee right into Trey's midsection. He jerks in pain as Styles drops another knee. Styles pulls Trey up again after kicking him squarely in the ribs. Styles gutwrenches Trey, holding him in an inverted piledriver. Trey moves his weight back, and flips over, reversing the hold on Styles. Trey puts one arm through Style's legs while cradling his body and drops drops backwards, slamming Styles back-first on the mat with a modified Michinoku Driver]

Tim: AWESOME move by Trey!

Jeff: Hmph.

[Trey crawls over to Styles and manages to make a cover, hooking Style's leg.]

[One... Two.... THR-]

Tim: Styles manages to kick out! Two and a half count, at least.

Jeff: He kicked out. That's what counts.

Tim: Ah, the mute speaks.

Jeff: Grr....

[Cut to show Jon Storm, Gavin Coens and Phoenix at the top of the ramp.]

Tim: Aw, what the...?

Jeff: The Inner Circle has graced us with their presence!

Tim: You are SUCH a suck up. What the Hell are they doing here?

Jeff: Hey, they're just trying to get a good view of Styles kicking Trey's ass.

[They mill around the top of the ramp until Trey suddenly drops Styles with a Flash of Pain DDT! They start to the ring, but suddenly Tempest darts from the back and leaps at Phoenix. She drop kicks him squarely between the shoulder blades and the others wheel around as he topples over and glare at her. She looks up and her eyes widen in fear as she starts backing away from them.]

Jeff: Oh that was brilliant.

Tim: Oh no... run Tempest, run! [In the ring, Trey covers Styles, but only gets a 2-count. On the ramp, Tempest turns and bolts for the top of the ramp as the Circles runs after her. But they' re abruptly stopped by a hard clothesline from Chris Davison and another from David Zakin. The three give Trey a thumbs up before the Circle members rise and they brawl at the top of the ramp.] Tim: Ha! Foiled that plan! Jeff: Shit...

[Back in the ring, Styles groggily rises after being hit with Flash of Pain. Trey throws him into the ropes, catching and nearly decapitating him with a HUGE clothesline. Trey steps over him and starts to climb the turnbuckle. He pauses, thrusting both arms into the air, before leaping off. Instead of the Lights Out moonsault, he does a Frog Splash, aka the Intensity Splash! Styles manages to get his knees up just in time, and Trey is left clutching his ribcage]

Tim: Trey went for the Intensity Splash, and missed!

Jeff [imitating Nelson from the Simpsons]: HAW HAW!

[Styles gets to his feet. He mouths to Trey "You bastard.." before pulling him to his feet. Styles locks in an armbar, wrenching Trey's arm and making him yell out. Styles says something intangible, and follows with an elbow to the back of Trey's head. He pulls Trey up again, still holding the armbar, then suddenly breaks and throws Trey, through the ropes and outside the ring. Styles climbs through the ropes, and immediatly throws Trey into the ringpost. Trey falls to his knees, trying to catch his breath. Styles looks up to the ramp, where Tempest/Davison/Zakin are still brawling with the members of the Inner Circle. Neither group has the upper hand. Styles grabs Trey by the hair and throws him back in the ring. Styles rolls into the ring himself and pauses to showboat a little, giving Trey enough time to get to his feet. Trey quickly locks on an inverted facelock and drops backwards, DDTing Styles. Trey grabs both of Styles legs and lifts him up, pivoting him and leaning backwards in an elevated Boston Crab]

Tim: PURE INTENSITY! Trey has Chris Styles in his own submissions maneuver!

Jeff: That bastard! Don't give up Chris. Don't... give.. up!

[Trey pulls backwards on Style's legs, not giving up on the hold. He looks backwards and down at Styles, whose face is contorted with pain, as he yells at him that he needs to learn what REAL intensity is. Styles screams out in pain and inches slowly towards the ropes. Styles grabs a hold of the bottom rope, yet Trey STILL refuses to break the hold. Finally, he drops Style's legs and gets to his feet. He pulls Styles up by the hair and hooks his arms, going for his Flash of Pain again. Styles knees Trey right in the groin, which the referee doesn't see, and Trey drops to both knees. Styles steps over Trey and rolls him up with a Magistrol Cradle]

[ONE.... TWO.... THREE!!!]

Tim: STYLES WINS! I don't believe it! Styles beat Michael Trey!

Jeff: YES!

Tim [as a replay is shown]: Look at this. He blatanly nails a low blow on Trey, then he executes a Magistrol cradle, and he calls that a well-deserved win?

Jeff: You know what they say, Timmy. It's only cheating if you get caught!

Tim: ... Shut up. [Styles stands over the fallen Trey, who is only somewhat moving, and calls for a mic]

Styles: You see Trey, your done! You played the game and lost! And as you have already said, this loss is the beginning of the end for you. Welcome to the new world Trey, the new HWF, the HWF where you no longer belong. Welcome to the reign of the Inner Circle!

[Styles slides out of the ring and heads up the ramp to regroup with his stablemates. Tempest, meanwhile, slides into the ring to check on Trey. Zakin and Davison follow. Davison retrieves a mic. Davison, looking back and forth to the crowd, stares up at the top of the ramp at the seething Circle members.]

Chris Davison: Before you could even start your path of destruction, before you could start your unopposed war... there is resistance. Right now, your group is hunted by Jayson Starr, as well as the people in this ring right now. Your handicap attack tactics are useless, you're slowly running out of options. Soon, you'll be forced into a battle that, by all intents and purposes, is FAIR.

[He grins a little.]

Chris Davison: And we don't want that now, do we? Of course you don't. You can hardly keep your iron grip as is, against a smaller number.

[Davison looks up again, staring toward the back.]

Chris Davison: So allow us to introduce the opposition.

[He hands the mic off to Tempest. She smiles gleefully.] Tempest: Yup, that'd be us! Did anyone really think that me and Chris and Trey were just gonna let you guys walk all over us? You act like functioning as a group is something only you can manage. But I think it's just a matter of time before you're all trying to stab each other in the back. But us? We're all friends here. Even when we fight, we don't need to destroy each other. Even Zakin saw the wisdom in this and... well, why are you putting up with us anyway David?

[She smiles and hands the mic off to him.]

Zakin: Honestly, I hate just about every single member in that damn Circle. Storm, Gavin, Styles...hell, let's add Drake and Collins to the list. They been holding me down since the day I got here. So, I was quite fed up with it...and then I saw you guys taking them all on. And I figured, what the hell, if you can't beat 'em join 'em. Not only that, but I was not about to let my loss to Trey go to waste...if he beats me, he goes all the way, simple as that.

[Zakin grins.]

Zakin: And who knows, maybe you'll feed me like you did Trey.

[Zakin gives a little "just kidding" look to Davison as Tempest laughs.]

Zakin: I'm just kiddin', bro....oh yeah, FUCK YOU COENS!

[Coens shouts something but it's lost as the rest of the circle pulls him back with them. Zakin passes the microphone to Trey, who has finally caught his breath.]

Michael Trey: You know something... when this tournament started, I thought that my career would be regenerated or killed off by the success or failure I experienced in this tourny. But now... now I realize what will kill or revive my career. It will be the sole motive for Michael Trey to remain in this sport.... to destroy YOU.

[Davison and Tempest smile at Trey, and Zakin pats him on the back.]

Michael Trey: I thought that I had lost it all, then gained it all back again. I also knew that if I was pinned, if I lost before the semi-finals, that I would be a total washout. I would have lost it all again... to lose today would be the worst thing in my career. But if I have to go down, I'm not allowing this corrupt group to stay in power. No way will I ever leave knowing that the federation will be controlled by men like you. Never. I might be out of the World Tourney, but you can bet everything you own that we WILL destroy each and every one of you until, finally, people with a shred of integrity have taken their places at the top of the HWF.

[Trey tosses the microphone outside the ring and mouths off to the group on the ramp. Tempest and Davison both glare and talk to Trey, while Zakin stares down each member of Inner Circle]

Tim: What a showdown! We haven't seen the last of these two factions; after Styles cheating his way to victory here tonight, Trey is going to be seeking revenge! And we all know how determined Michael Trey is when it comes to revenge!

[Commercials]

[As the show fades back in from the commercial break, we see Michael following Tempest, Davison, and Zaking back to Davison's locker room to help him prepare for the main event. Some shouting fades in from down the hallway.]

Tempest: Hey... what's that?

Davison: It's probably Gav, catching another picturesque view of Silky in full glory.. hehehe.

Zakin: Actually... it sounds like...

[Claire Matthews comes into view, waving the papers she found in Bisc's office wildly in the air.]

Michael Trey: .... Claire?! What the FUCK do you want?

[At a hundred miles an hour...]

Claire Matthews: Michael! I'msorryabouteverythingBiscwasbehinditall Hehadmehypnotisedanditsallinthesepapersandhesbehindthewhole MayhemturningintoHavocthing andIjustdon'tknowwhattodoMichaelandIdidn'tknowwheretoturn butIjustknowthatI'msorryforeverythingIdid andIdidn'treallymeanitItwasallBiscbehinditthewholetime...

[Michael motions for Claire to slow down and breathe.]

Michael Trey: It's OK... Claire... just calm down, alright? I think I caught most of that, somehow. Bisc was messing with your head, somehow? I figured as much. But how can I trust you on this at all? You've set me up to get pisspounded so many times, I stopped counting.

[Claire hands Trey the papers that she took with her. He begins to read them, but suddenly, Bisc stumbles around a corner.]

Bisc Li: HEY!

[Claire and Trey both glance at Bisc Li. Michael looks around the hallway, finding not much escape from an encounter.]

Bisc Li: Claire, listen, those aren't what you thi-

[BAM! Out of nowhere, Davison, who had drifted out of the picture, dives in with a Canadian Title belt shot on Bisc. Davison motions for Trey and Claire to get out of the building, while Davison, Tempest, and Zakin all continue to their locker room. Trey and Claire quickly run to the parking lot, where Trey's car awaits them. Trey hesitates a minute.]

Michael Trey: How CAN I trust you, Claire?

Claire Matthews: ....

[Claire pulls something from her pocket. The ring.]

Claire Matthews: Easy, Michael.

[In slow motion it seems, she slips the engagement ring from months ago back onto her finger. Claire raises her face to Michael, who is in thought. He stares, from her finger, to her face, back to her finger.]

Michael Trey: .... what else can I do? Get in.

[Claire wastes no time, whipping the door open and getting in. Trey sits down and buckles his seat belt; Claire does the same. Through the windsheild, you see that SOMEHOW Bisc Li has come back again! Trey and Claire pull out of the parking lot, but Bisc gets into another company car and drives away, in hot pursuit of Michael and Claire! The scene cuts back to the announce table.]

Jeff: We've got a car chase! Woo hoo! It's OJ Simpson all over again!

Tim: If the ring don't fit...

Jeff: ... you must shut the fuck up.

Tim: Nutsac.

Jeff: Whatever. SOMEONE GET A CREW TO FOLLOW THEM! We need to see what happens!

[The camera is jostled around backstage as it cuts to Tempest again, who is in her locker room. Night Stalker appears and the two immediately begin arguing.]

Night Stalker: What in the Hell did you think you were doing out there?!

Tempest: Defending my friend from one of several cowards and thieves who keep trying to take everything we both value and hurt us. But I know that’s something you wouldn’t understand.

Night Stalker: I understand that you placed your feelings over you obligation to me! What if you had gotten hurt?

Tempest: *glaring* What do you care if I get hurt?

[Then the signal is given and she starts toward the curtain as Stalker follows, fuming.]

Tim: Stalker verse Phoenix, NEXT!!

[Commercials]

[As the camera fades back in, "Symphony of a Stalker" is fading out, as Stalker stands tall in the center of the ring with Tempest on outside. The lights return to normal, as the music cuts out.]

Tim: Alright, we're ready for our No DQ Match.

Jeff: Can we order out?

Tim: What kind of question is that?

Jeff: I dunno... I was kind of in the mood for Chinese...

Tim: Good God...

["Close the Door" by Prong hits the speakers and a chorus of boos begins in the arena. After a few seconds, Phoenix bursts through the curtains wearing his torn black corduroy shorts and his black “Zero” t-shirt with the sleeves torn off. He slowly walks to the front of the stage and stands there for a second as the fans begin to boo even louder. As Phoenix hears this, he raises his right hand in the air and then begins to slowly walk down to the ring. When he gets to the apron, he pauses for a second, and then slides into the ring under the bottom rope as the music fades out.]

Tim: Alright, 'Nix is out here so let's get this match started...

[The bell rings out, as Phoenix runs across the ring and spears Stalker to the ground. He lays in a good five or six punches to Stalker's dome and then picks him up. He locks him in suplex position and then lifts him up vertical. Instead of falling backwards, Phoenix drops onto his stomach - dropping Stalker right on his face with a front suplex. Stalker quickly pops up to his feet and Phoenix sends him across the ring into the ropes. Stalker ducks a clothesline and then bounces off the other side. Phoenix looks for another clothesline, but Stalker beats him to the punch and levels him with a running big boot.]

Tim: What impact with Phoenix's face!

[Stalker quickly picks up Phoenix and whips him to the ropes. Pheonix bounces off, but gets caught by Stalker on the way back. Stalker grabs Phoenix by the shoulder and trips him to the gorund hard with an STO.]

Jeff: STO!

Tim: What does that stand for anyway?

Jeff: Stalker's Trip O... um... Optimologist, maybe!?! [Stalker picks Phoenix up by the hair and throws a few hard right hands to Phoenix’s head, staggering him. Stalker then grabs Phoenix’s arm and whips him hard into the corner closest to where Tempest is standing. Stalker charges in to follow up the Irish whip, but Phoenix ducks the clothesline causing Stalker to hit the turnbuckles chest first. As he stumbles out of the corner, Phoenix delivers a quick kick to Stalker’s midsection, grabs his head, runs up the turnbuckle, swings around and hits a twisting bulldog on the bigger man. Phoenix is the first man to his feet and seeing that Stalker only lying on the mat, he goes over to the ropes in front of Tempest and begins to scream at her, his words hard to understand. Tempest begins to yell back until Phoenix flips her off and turns back around.]

Tim: Alright, now that was just uncalled for.

Jeff: Why for? Tempest humiliated Phoenix earlier tonight so he’s just laying down the law.

Tim: But with an opponent the caliber of Night Stalker, he needs to focus his attention elsewhere.

[Phoenix continues jawing with Tempest, but gets lwo blowed from Stlkaer from behind. Stalker takes advantag, and scoops Phoenix up high into the air in a gorilla press. He starts to walk over toward the ring ropes when Phoenix begins to violently kick his legs, trying to squirm free. Finally he succeeds and slips down Stalker’s back, landing on his feet. Stalker turns around with a surprised look on his face as Phoenix throws one, two, three quick punches to Stalker’s gut before grabbing his head and planting him on the mat with a stiff DDT. Rather than following up the move however, Phoenix walks back over to Tempest and begins yelling at her again. A look of hatred crosses Tempest’s face for a brief second before she begins screaming right back at him. Phoenix then sits down on the second rope, pointing behind him, inviting Tempest into the ring. She doesn’t move and instead continues to yell. Phoenix doesn’t stop his verbal assault either as he steps onto the apron to yell some more. In the meantime, Night Stalker has reached his feet and walks over behind Phoenix. Stalker grabs Phoenix’s head, turns around sits down snapping the back of Phoenix’s neck across the top rope. Phoenix lands on the apron, holding his head in pain.]

Tim: What a move! Dark Resurrection from the big man.

Jeff: But he can’t do that. Phoenix was taking care of some business with Tempest and Stalker just blatantly interfered.

Tim: But she’s not even in the match. This match is between Night Stalker and Phoenix and Phoenix isn’t even paying attention to the right person.

Jeff: Don’t make me have to bitch slap you.

[Stalker pulls Phoenix back into the ring and goes for a pin.]

Jeff: Pin attempt!

[One... ...Two... ...THr...KICKOUT!!]

Jeff: NO!

[Night Stalker lifts up Phoenix and starts throwing a flurry of stiff right hands, backing Phoenix into the ropes. He goes for an irish whip, but Phoenix reverses it and lowers his head for a back body drop. Stalker springs off the ropes and puts the brakes on in front of the bent over Phoenix. He grabs Phoenix’s head in a front chancery and hoists him up for a front suplex. Phoenix floats over Stalker though, twisting and grabbing his head on the way over turning it into a rear chancery of his own. He lifts Stalker up and drops him Into the Ashes before falling on him for the pin.]

Jeff: Yes, yes, yes. Phoenix just drove Night Stalker Into the Ashes.

[One...]

Jeff: It’s over, it’s over.

[Tempest quickly slides into the ring and makes a dash for Phoenix and Stalker.]

[...Two...]

Tim: It’s not over, it’s not over.

[Tempest dives at the two men and dropkicks Phoenix right between the eyes, breaking up the count.]

Jeff: That’s not right. Ref, stop this match. That was blatant interference.

Tim: I don’t think so, my little friend. This is a no-DQ match so that’s perfectly legal. So go home and cry on Sterling’s shoulder if you have to.

Jeff: Hey, you leave Lance out of this.

[Phoenix rolls off of Stalker grabbing his face while Stalker looks completely out of it. Phoenix gets to his feet and looks incredibly pissed at Tempest. They start yelling back and forth again. Phoenix then draws his arm back and goes to level Tempest with a right hand. She blocks it, stomps on Phoenix’s foot causing him to bend over, kicks him in face so he stands back up, knees him in the gut so he doubles over again and then runs toward the ropes. She springs back toward Phoenix who is straightening back up, dives forward into a front handspring and then flips over landing with her legs on Phoenix’s shoulders. She pulls herself up, putting herself in hurricanrana position. She swings backward to complete the move, but Phoenix grabs her around her midsection as she is going down and drops to his knees driving her head into the mat with a Hangman’s DDT. Tempest folds up like an accordion and lies in a crumpled pile on the mat.]

Tim: Oh My God! I think Tempest just had her neck broken. Get some help for her out here now.

Jeff: I think you’re right. I don’t like her much, but I don’t know if she deserved that.

[Both Stalker and Tempest begin to show signs of movement as Phoenix stands up and begins to dig in his pockets.]

Jeff: See that’s why I like that guy. He knows what he did so he’s trying to help her.

[Phoenix pulls out something and holds it high over his head to show off to the crowd as they begin to boo.]

Tim: Oh no, he has handcuffs. Enough is enough. Somebody stop this man.

Jeff: No, wait. I think he’s going to handcuff her to someplace where she’ll be out of harm’s way. You know, he’s trying to help her.

Tim: Just shut up. We both know that’s not true.

[Phoenix drags Tempest, who is only putting up a little bit of a fight, over to one corner where he handcuffs her to the turnbuckle. Tempest tries to get free, but doesn’t have any strength or luck. Phoenix quickly slides out of the ring and walks toward the announce area. He shoves the timekeeper down, grabs his chair, and slides back into the ring, walking straight for Tempest. He lifts the chair high above his head as Tempest is only partially aware of what is coming although she does brace herself for the upcoming shot. Just has he goes to swing, Phoenix is hit by a monstrous spear from Night Stalker. The chair goes flying as does Phoenix who gets knocked through the ropes to the floor where he bounces into the barricade. Tempest watches the action in front on her with amazement, a look or shock and surprise on her face.]

Jeff: Nooooooo.

Tim: Thank God. At least there is one decent man in that ring right now.

[Stalker gets back to his feet and checks on Tempest to make sure she is ok. They talk for a quick second as Stalker attempts to get the handcuffs off of Tempest, which he is unable to do. They talk for another couple of seconds until Tempest convinces Stalker that she is fine. Stalker then climbs through the ropes to the floor to pursue Phoenix.]

Tim: Watch Out Phoenix!

[Stalker grabs Phoenix and throws him back into the ring by the hair. Stalker slides in himself and literally stalks Phoenix as he struggles to get to his feet. Pheonix turns towards Night Stalker, and Stalker locks him in a front chancery. The fans start to cheer in anticipation as Stlkaer signals for the Light of Dawn.]

Tim: Light of Dawn!! He's gonna hit him with it!!

[Stalker tries to grab Phoenix's pants, but Phoenix trips him to the ground. Stalker immediately posp back up, onto to be lifted up as if for a scoop slam. Instead of slamming him, however, Phoenix drops him with a northern lights bomb. The fans pop for this popular move, as Phoenix holds onto Stalker and lifts him up into a rear chancery. Phoenix grabs Stalker by the pants again, lifts him up, and drops him with another Into the Ashes.]

Jeff: Into the Ashes... AGAIN!!

Tim: What a combination!!

[Pheonix stays on for the pin, as Tempest tries to break free.]

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

Tim: Phoenix got him...

[Phoenix slides out of the ring and walks toward the announcers. He grabs a mic and a chair from ringside and slides back into the ring. Phoenix walks directly over to the handcuffed Tempest who is furious about being handcuffed. She strains and stretches and tries to get at Phoenix, but he stands just out of her reach with a huge smirk on his face. He pulls the chair back, getting ready to slam it into Tempest’s skull as she isn’t even fazed by this. She keeps trying to reach Phoenix until he takes the chair, opens it up and slides it to Tempest.]

Phoenix: Hitting you would be too easy. I have a better way to get to you. Later tonight, I have something much bigger that I think would hurt you so much more. Enjoy.

[Phoenix drops the mic just out of Tempest’s reach and starts to walk to the back. HWF technicians rush out to help Tempest and Stalker.]

Tim: What could that mean?

Jeff: I dunno... but the only match left in this show is Davison and Storm!

Tim: I guess we'll find out after this...

[Commercials]

[The lights dim and the opening guitar riffs of the song "Revolving Door" by Crazy Town begin to play. The crowd has no reaction at first, but that changes as a platform rotates and rises up to stage level. Immediately, they boo and jeer as Jonathan Storm arrives. Dressed in a tight black t-shirt and armpads (similar to Jeff Hardy), and baggy black cargo pants, he raises his hands and sneers, the arrogance seeping out from behind his blue Oakleys. He walks down the aisle and examines the ladder, before sliding into the ring. He scales the turnbuckle and raises his hands in the air, and the crowd boos him even more. He gets an angry look on his face, and he hops down, placing his shades in the corner.]

["Indestructible" by the Matthew Good Band hits the speakers, and the bass riff sends the crowd to their feet as Chris Davison appears in the entranceway. He walks to the ring, reaching in to tag quite a few fans' hands. He reaches the ring and steps onto the apron, then onto the turnbuckles, playing to the crowd and receiving a large pop. He hops off of the turnbuckles and then leans on the ropes, looking vaguely nonchalant.]

[Davison and Storm brawl in the ring, each swinging with their fists. Davison hits one, a second, a third, and then clotheslines Storm over the top to the floor. He follows, rage unmistakable on his face.]

Tim: Davison's already got a great start on Storm!

Jeff: I hate Davison... but I hate Storm... I'M CONFUSED!

[Davison grabs Storm by the hair to pull him up, but Storm sneaks in a low blow, doubling Davison over. He immediately follows up with a DDT on the outside. Storm lifts Davison and rolls him into the ring, following after him.]

Tim: Storm in control now, stomping away at Davison...

[Storm's feet are in fact lacing into Davison's chest, hammering him. Storm stops and rolls out of the ring to get the ladder.]

Jeff: You can't end it this early!

[Storm picks up the ladder and starts carrying it to ringside, sliding it under the ropes. Immediately, the ladder comes flying back at him, catching him right in the mouth. Storm hits the ground, holding his face in pain.]

Tim: Whoa! Amazing move there by Davison!

[Davison slides out of the ring, and picks Storm up by the hair. He slams Storm's head into the apron, then rolls him into the ring. Picking up the ladder, Davison slides in and raises it high above his head, then drives it into Storm, who had gotten to his knees before Davison cracked him. Davison sets up the ladder and then picks Storm up, irish whipping the "Pop Sensation." Storm reverses, and Davison smashes into the ladder, knocking it over. Davison staggers back, right into a waistlock by Storm, who launches Davison into a snap German suplex. Davison hits the mat hard.]

Tim: Jonathan Storm taking over on the current Canadian Champion!

[Storm lifts Davison up and locks in a front chancery, then lifts him high into a vertical suplex, bringing him down right onto the ladder with a crash. Davison rolls off, holding his back in pain.]

Jeff: Come on, you wusses! I WANT BLOOD!

[Storm pulls Davison to his feet, but Davison hits a quick punch to Storm's midsection, then a front kick, and then bounces off the ropes, nearly decapitating the challenger with a HUGE lariat.]

Tim: Davison fights back with a lariat from nowhere!

Jeff: Are you naturally stupid as to state the obvious?

Tim: Do you ever shut up?

Jeff: I'll get back to you on that.

[Davison lifts Storm to his feet and backs him into the corner, smacking him with a loud chop to the chest. Davison rears back and delivers a second, harder than the first. Finally, Davison hits a third stiff chop. Storm grabs him and throws him to the turnbuckle, trading places, and he nails a hard chop of his own, then a second huge one, and a third that echoed in the building.]

Tim: Listen to the thwack of those chops!

Jeff: Thwack?

[Davison shoves Storm to the center of the ring, where the two lock up, Storm immediately getting the upper hand with a headlock. Davison shoots him off the ropes, and executes a leaping spinwheel kick that Storm ducks under. On the return, Storm slides under Davison's legs and grabs him in a waistlock, shoving him to the ropes in a rollup attempt. Davison holds onto the ropes and Storm rolls back, but charges Davison again. Davison swings an arm in a vicious clothesline, but Storm ducks. Storm aims a superkick, but Davison catches the leg. Storm leaps up high in an enzuigiri, but Davison ducks and Storm lands facedown on the canvas, somersaulting forward and back to his feet. The two enter a standoff as the crowd cheers the fast-paced wrestling.]

Tim: Amazing! How do they do it?

Jeff: Uh... it's their JOB.

Tim: Shut up.

[Davison and Storm lock up again, but Storm kicks Davison in the stomach, HARD. Storm applies a quick standing headscissors and pulls Davison up for a piledriver, holding him in the air. He holds Davison up in the position, stalling it. Suddenly, Davison begins kicking his legs, and he falls forward, landing on his feet. Davison lifts Storm up, holding onto his legs, and then charges forward, hitting a spinebuster against the turnbuckles.]

Jeff: Dammit, where's the violence? Where's the hardcore?

[Davison picks up the ladder and sets it up in the center of the ring. He begins climbing.]

Jeff: No! Stop and beat on Storm more! I wanna see blood!

[Davison reaches up for the title, but Storm shoves the ladder and Davison falls to the ring ropes, landing on them chest first, snapping his head back in something almost like whiplash. Storm immediately capitalizes by setting Davison's throat over the ropes and sitting on him, then pulling the rope up, choking him.]

Tim: A blatant choke by Jonathan Storm!

Jeff: Hey, it's all legal! COME ON, USE WEAPONS!

[Storm lifts Davison up and delivers a quick snap suplex, Davison landing in the center of the ring. Storm climbs to the top rope, and leaps, executing a perfect guillotine legdrop.]

Tim: And Davison is in trouble!

[Storm pulls the ladder to the center of the ring and sets it up, and begins climbing. He reaches for the title, his fingers just barely brushing against it. Suddenly, Davison punches him in the kidneys, twice, and a third time. Davison reaches up, with his back to Storm, and grabs him around the waist, draping him over his shoulder. Davison takes a few steps forward, and then powerbombs Storm hard onto the ropes, his neck making contact with the top before snapping ahead as he hit the canvas.]

Jeff: VIOLENCE!

Tim: An innovative maneuver by Chris Davison, there...

[Davison picks Storm up and heaves him to the outside, picking the ladder up. He drapes it like a ramp on the ropes, and gauges the distance outward with a look before running to the ropes. As Storm gets up, shaking his head to clear the cobwebs, Davison runs up the ladder and flies off of the top, executing a tope con hilo that sends both men to the concrete floor.]

Tim: HOLY HELL!

[Gavin Coens rushes down the aisle, (closely followed by his midget bodyguard) carrying a chair. Brandishing it in a threatening manner, he taunts Davison to get up. Davison is doing so slowly, but the crowd suddenly pops huge as Tempest rushes down the aisle. She whips Coens around to face her, hitting a quick spinning heel kick that staggers him a bit. As the midget shouts encouragement to Gavin, Coens and Tempest begin to brawl, ending up heading backstage as Storm and Davison both get back to their feet.]

Jeff: Did... you see that?

Tim: Yes.

Jeff: A MIDGET! AHAHAHA!

[Davison gets back up, albeit slowly. Storm isn't far behind, and as Davison makes it to his feet, Storm launches himself into Davison's gut with a hard spear that doubles him over. Storm rolls Davison into the ring and climbs onto the apron. Davison is hardly to his feet when Storm springboards over the top with a missile dropkick, sending Davison to the canvas.]

Tim: Jonathan Storm looks to be ready to finish this!

[After setting up the ladder, Storm kicks away at Davison, and then slides out of the ring, searching beneath it. Storm pulls out a table, opening its legs and setting it up on the outside. He climbs back into the ring, but Davison meets him there with a right hand to the face. Storm retaliates with one of his own and the two go back and forth until Davison cuts him off with a kick and an Irish whip to the turnbuckles.]

Tim: Davison isn't outta this yet...

Jeff: He may as well be!

[With Storm backed into the turnbuckle, Davison chops hard at his chest. He signals to the crowd for a Lethal Injection, and sets Storm on top of the turnbuckles, with the crowd popping for the idea of one from the top. The cheers, however, soon turn to jeers as Phoenix appears from nowhere, sliding in the ring. One can see barbed wire in his hands. He reaches up to Davison, who is on the second turnbuckle, and back suplexes him off. Davison doesn't even have time to get up before Phoenix begins stomping away at him. He reaches down and pulls Davison up by the hair, grinding the barbed wire into his forehead, opening him up.]

Jeff: YEAH!

[Blood begins to seep down his forehead as Phoenix pulls on the wire. He lets go as Storm approaches, and they both pull Davison up. Together, they lift him up and spike powerbomb him hard onto the canvas. As they pose above Davison, the crowd suddenly pops. David Zakin shows up from nowhere, and as Storm begins climbing the ladder, Zakin shoves him off, and hits a standing side kick to Storm's chest.]

Tim: SHADOW KICK!!

[Zakin grabs Phoenix and heaves him out of the ring, following after to brawl. Zakin and Phoenix end up over by the announce table, and Phoenix gets the upper hand for a second, looking for the Into the Ashes. Zakin breaks free of it, and quickly hooks on a pumphandle setup. Phoenix is lifted into the air and DRIVEN through the table with the Inside Edition!]

Tim: There's the Inside Edition!

Jeff: Carnage everywhere, I love it!

[Meanwhile, back in the ring, Davison and Storm are slowly pushing themselves to get back to their feet. They set up the ladder while the others brawl on the outside of the ring. They begin to climb on the opposite side of the ladder for that Canadian title hanging above it. Storm and Davison trade blows at the top of the ladder. Suddenly, Storm grabs Davison and flips him over him with a judo throw, tossing him off the ladder! Storm is left with his legs locked in, barely holding him to the ladder. Storm releases himself to do a SPLIT LEGGED MOONSAULT off the ladder onto Davison below!]

Tim: BEAUTIFUL Split legged moonsault off the top of the ladder!

Jeff: GOOOOO STORM!

[Storm sets up the ladder again, and begins to climb. Davison gets up slowly, and follows. Storm is at the top, and Davison is just a few rungs below him. Storm's fingers tip the Canadian title, but Davison doubles his climbing speed and punches Storm in the stomach to make him bend over. He gets to the top of the ladder, and gets on Storm's shoulders. Storm begins to fall due to the pressure, and Davison rips the Canadian title from it's bonds above! The ladder then falls, Davison and Storm going down with it.]

Tim: CHRIS DAVISON DID IT! HE DID IT! He's retained the Canadian Title from Jonathan Storm!

Jeff: Oh Gavin. This is SO not good!

[With "Indestructible" playing in the background, Davison picks up a microphone, the Canadian Title slung over his shoulder.]

Chris Davison: Phoenix... Storm...

[The two figures at the top of the ramp are glaring intently at Davison.]

Chris Davison: I told you I'd take it, and I did... I told you I'd beat you, and I did, even with your bullshit... and now... I want to do it again.

[The crowd cheers, but Davison holds up a hand to convey silence.]

Chris Davison: Storm... Phoenix... I want a tag team match at Parade of Cannibals 3!

[Storm picks up a microphone of his own.]

Jonathan Storm: Fine! But I want that damn title on the line! If Phoenix or I pin you... we get the belt!

[Davison looks him over.]

Chris Davison: Tag team match, Parade of Cannibals, Canadian Title on the line... but I want one more thing!

[He looks over at Zakin, next to him.]

Chris Davison: I want it to be BLT style -- barbed wire, ladders, and tables!

[The crowd pops.]

Chris Davison: And when we meet... again... I'll beat your ass even worse than I did tonight!

Tim: Folks, I'm sorry to cut away from this... but we have a helicopter out following Bisc Li...

Jeff: What!?!

[We cut an HWF helicopter which is following the chase through some roads on the outskirts of Hiroshima. The longer the chase goes, the smaller the roads get. Eventually, Michael's car is swerving on tight curves on a single lane road, with Bisc mere seconds behind him.]

Tim: This HAS to be dangerous.

Jeff: RAM THE FUCK OUTTA HIM, BISC!

[As Michael hits a straight stretch, he accelerates. A sharp curve comes into view, and his tires start to toss mud and dirt back at Bisc, as they've hit nothing but dirt roads now. Trey slows and successfully turns to the right, speeding up again. Behind him, Bisc's car begins to wipe the mud from his windsheild.]

Tim: He's not gonna make the turn...

Jeff: He's gonna make the turn...

Tim: He's not gonna-

Jeff: HE'S GONNA MAKE THE TURN!

[WHAM!]

Tim: He didn't make the turn.

[At about 50 miles per hour, Bisc's car crunches into a tree. The car literally wraps itself around the trunk. Trey's car turns around to come back to the accident, and an HWF car finally catches up to the accident.]

Jeff: Oh no... oh no no nono.... BISC!

Tim: This could be real bad for the Vice President....

Jeff: *wailing*

[A cameraman hops out of the car. We switch to that camera, seeing the shattered windows. Blood is spattered on the seat and the dash. Finally, Bisc Li's limp body comes into focus. After a moment, it becomes obvious that he is unconscious, but still breathing. The wail of an ambulance sounds in the distance. Michael looks from his car, shocked and unsure how to feel about the whole night... as Suicide fades to black.]