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December 9, 2000

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[6:48 pm | The Pershing Auditorium, Lincoln Nebraska]

[The scene fades in to find Tony Bradshaw sitting behind a desk. Nothing is heard for about 15 seconds, when the audio finally kicks in. Tony starts shuffling through some papers and looks up to see the camera. He does a double take, and then grabs a folder on the side of his desk. He pulls out a paper, and then addresses the camera.]

Tony Bradshaw: Good evening HWF fans nationwide... before we go to Saturday Suicide, it is my duty to inform you of the dark match results...

[Tony scrolls down on the paper and continues.]

Tony Bradshaw: In our only dark match this evening, Sean Newcastle took on Zakk Estes in a Tables 'n Chairs match... the match started off good, with dueling chair shots back and forth. Newcastle eventually gained control, and setup a table in the center of the ring. He then scaled the ropes on the outside and this is what happened...

[The camera cuts to a scene earlier in the night. Newcastle is on the top turnbuckle, and Estes is alone on a table in the ring. Newcastle dives off the top rope, with a shooting star press through Estes and the table. The crowd starts going wild as the ref makes the three count and the bell sounds. The camera cuts back to Bradshaw.]

Tony Bradshaw: That's right, Sean Newcastle picked up the victory with the Smart Bomb... but the real story happened after the match. You see, Zakk Estes eventually got to his feet, and tried to cut an interview. Needless to say, he was completely out of it, and went on to perform one of the lamest, most ludicrious interviews in the history of this fed.

[Tony chuckles to himself.]

Tony Bradshaw: ...Well, the HWF fans let him know it, by boo'ing him out of the building!! Anyway... onto the show...

[6:56 p.m.]

[Saturday Suicide opens up to a shot of a black BMW Z3 roadster pulling into the garage of the Pershing Auditorium. The car stops and "The Canadian Killah" Chris Thrilla and The Hardcore Hoodlum Spike step out. Spike pops the trunk.]

Spike: Get the stuff man, I gotta talk to Drake.

Thrilla: No prob.

[Spike walks off. Chris opens the trunk fully and pulls out Spike's skateboard and a large duffel bag. Just then, a man in a ski mask attacks Chris and slams the car's trunk on the surprised Thrilla's head. The man in the ski mask runs off as Spike and Drake run towards the fallen Thrilla.]

Johnny Drake: Jesus H. Christ!! Someone call an ambulance!!

Thrilla: Fu…Fuck…I don't…need…to go to…a hospital…

Johnny Drake: You're in no condition to compete! You have to have some kind of a concussion! I refuse to let you wrestle this week!

Spike: What about the tag match?

Johnny Drake: You'll have to find another partner. And somebody find the son of a bitch who did this!

[Scene cuts to Tim and Jeff in the ring, who are apparently watching on the HWF-Tron. Suddenly, "Last Resort" by Papa Roach kicks in and the fans go into gear; pumping their fists in the air as the chant "H-W-F, H-W-F". Tim and Jeff wait there for the fans to die down. When they do, they start of this week's Saturday Suicide, as they start off ever other Suicide.]

Tim: LINCOLN, NEBRASKA...

[HUGE, cheap pop for city's name.]

Tim: ...are you ready to get HARD 2 THE CORE!?!

[Another, even BIGGER, pop is heard throughout the arena, as more chants start up.]

Tim: Then get ready for HWF's SATURDAY SUICIDE!!!

[A THIRD, GIGANTIC pop fills the arena, as the chants continue.]

Tim: I'm Tim Miller...

[Jeff snatches the mic from Tim as the fans get excited.]

Jeff: And I am Jeff... "Slob on my knob, like Corn on the Cob" ... [Laughing throughout the arena, as Tim starts laughing his ass off in the ring.]

Jeff: ... Robinson!!

[The fans start to cheer for Jeff, as both he and Tim leave the ring for the outside. Another "H-W-F, H-W-F" chant rings out as Tim and Jeff take their seats at ringside. Tim and Jeff get ready to speak, when suddenly...]

#Fortune fame
#Mirror vain
#Gone insane
#But the memory remains

[The lights of the Pershing Auditorium begin to flash silver and gold. The crowd breaks out into cheers as Lance Sterling walks into view, wearing his wrestling attire with his personalized HWF title belt held across his right shoulder and a microphone in his hand. He looks around at the screaming crowd, a smile across his face. Slowly, Lance walks down to the ring, stopping to play up to the crowd by slapping some fan's hands and flirting with the girls. Finally, he gets in the ring and climbs to the top turnbuckle, raising both arms in the air and yelling his trademark phrase "I am the greatest!" He moves to the center of the ring and, as the music dies down, begins to speak.]

Lance Sterling: You know, it was a little over seven months ago that I first tasted HWF gold. It was at May Mayhem, when not only did I prove that I was the best thing going in the HWF, but I also shocked the world by forming the HWF's Finest, the greatest collection of talent ever seen in one place..at that time. Then, I was on top of the world. Nothing could go wrong...until the following month at King of Violence, when my world crashed down into rubble. Then, a short time later I regained my lost glory by capturing the HWF for a second time. That, is when everything started to go to hell. The staff and I had our backstage disputes, and it all culminated in my retirement the week before Indescent Exposure, just around 4 months ago today. In that time, a no-talent bitch like Blackjack has managed to weasel his way up to the main event and even worse, he's become the HWF champion. That ends...TONIGHT!

[Mixed reaction from the crowd.]

Lance Sterling: Because right here tonight I'm going to regain what is rightfully mine: the HWF title. That is the sole reason I brought out this..the Lance Sterling HWF Title Belt. To prove my superiority. But, it looks like it wasn't enough. Well, Blackjack, you have your wish. Finally, right here in..Lincoln, Nebraska (cheap pop) the world will see the match it's been waiting for: Sterling vs. Blackjack!

[A huge crowd pop at the mention of the main event of the evening.]

Lance Sterling: Blackjack, all you ever do backstage is whine like a..well, a little whiny bitch. "Lance Sterling is a chickenshit! He sucks 'cause he won't fight me. Wah, wah, wah, I'm the HWF Champion, even though I don't deserve it, and I proved Sterling wrong." That's all you ever say, pal. What the FUCK is up with you? Are you so stupid you can't think of anything else to say besides bash me? Obviously that's the case, Blackey. You'd think after being in the HWF for..however long you claim to have been here, that you would have wised up and gotten some new material to work with. I guess not. Too bad for you, jackass! There isn't time for anymore talk. It's time to see if you can back up all the bullshit that you babble about week after week. In just a little while, you'll finally face the greatest wrestler to ever grace an HWF ring: Me. And when it's all said and done, and I've been declared the UNDISPUTED Hardcore Wrestling Federation Champion, there won't be anything left for you to say or do. Why? Because you will have fought against the best..and you'll have lost. Its as simple as that Blackjack. Its as simple..as One, Two, Three. As far as I'm concerned, it'll be over after tonight. You see, after tonight you'll be back at the bottom rung where you belong, while I...I'll be exactly what I always have been...THE GREATEST!

[Sterling takes his title off of his shoulder and raises it high in the air. "Memory Remains" hits the PA system again, and the crowd gives another large pop, as Lance repeats his climbing of the turnbuckle. This time, he climbs all four turnbuckles before finally exiting the ring and, very slowly, walking towards the back. As he gets to the entryway, he raises the belt in the air one more time before disappearing through the curtains.]

Tim: Stay with us folks... we'll be right bac-

[Scene cuts to Spike backstage walking into a locker room, looking for his new partner. The camera follows him and Spike sits down. The camera focuses on Spike's face so we can't see who Spike is talking to.]

Spike: You got a minute?

Man: Yeah.

Spike: Look kid, I know you're just breaking into the wrestling business and you're pretty low on the card. You want to make a name for yourself and get into the spotlight around here. I've seen you in a few matches and you look like you have potential. Basically my point is that I need a tag team partner for tonight and tagging with me would get you out of those lowly dark matches and into the public eye. So whaddya say?

Man: Kid, you have no idea as to who I am do you?

Spike: Aren't you Jack Daddy?

[Camera zooms out to reveal Spike is talking to Michael Trey! The crowd pops so loud it's audible backstage! Trey looks so pissed you would expect to see steam coming out of his ears!]

Trey: Get the fuck out of my locker room!

[Trey pushes Spike and the cameraman out the door.]

Spike: You're the Forgotten One! I forgot! Gimme a break!

[Spike and the cameraman begin walking down the hallway again as the camera cuts to commercial.]

[Commercials]

Tim: Alright, welcome back folks, it's time for our first match of the night...

["Walk" by Kilgore begins to play and the arena goes dark. While the music is playing, a video of Zakin is being shown. We see Zakin jump off an 18-wheeler and put somebody through a car with Suicidal Tendency, we then see The Insider Splash through a table and suddenly a big explosion of pyro goes off.]

Jeff: Hey? What’s going on back there!?

Tim: Zakin is making his way out. But what just happened?

Jeff: Stop asking questions that I already asked!

Tim: Why would I do something like that?

Jeff: I don’t know. Why would you?

Tim: Now you’re contradicting ME!

Jeff: No I’m not!

Tim: You did it again!

Jeff: Just commentate the damn match!!

[Two more go off and the lights come back on with the fans on their feet. Zakin walks through the smoke and raises his hands in the air. The crowd cheers loud for him as he walks down to the ring. He slides in and jumps atop the turnbuckle and raises his hands once more. The crowd gets louder and louder each time.]

Nigel Rolston: And his opponent...

[The lights fade out, as orange lights start to strobe through the crowd. The voice of Rykopathe mutters out "Cause I'm one step closer..." followed by One Step Closer by Linkin Park blast through the arena.]

Nigel Rolston: J. Simon Rykopathe!

[J. Simon Rykopathe emerges from the back to a mix of boos and cheers. With a chair in hand, he waives off the crowd, and walks into the ring.]

Jeff: This should be another good quality wrestling match. Rykopathe’s in it!

Tim: Well, David Zakin is known for his in-ring abilities.

Jeff: RYKOPATHE’S IN IT! You think there’s gonna be a noose?

Tim: Ugh...

Jeff: Hang him!!!

[Ryko starts the match off quickly by giving Zakin a running clothesline. After that, he continuously kicks him on the mat. Ryko holds his hands in the air, and the crowd gives a mixed reaction. Ryko lifts up Zakin into a press slam, and carries it into a shoulder-breaker.]

Jeff: An ‘Intentional Injury’! Rykopathe’s starting this match up fast!

Tim: This might not be good for David Zakin.

[Zakin gets up slowly and grapples with Ryko. Ryko quickly puts him in a headlock, and runs forward to initiate a bulldog. Zakin lies, holding his head.]

Tim: Zakin had a concussion last week. Too many blows to the head wont be good.

Jeff: [In a fairly new and intelligent tone.] Yes, Timothy. I believe a brain-buster is in order. Don’t you?

Tim: You idiot.

[Ryko grabs Zakin’s hair and pulls him up. Zakin punches Ryko in the gut several times, and runs to the ropes. He bounces off, and performs a cross-body splash. Ryko gets up, and Zakin as well. Zakin knocks him down again with a clothesline. He gets up. Zakin drops him with an armbar takedown.]

Tim: Quality wrestling!

Jeff: [Still in that stupid ‘intelligent voice’.] Now you see, Timothy, if Rykopathe had a lead pipe in his right hand, he could very elegantly hit Zakin across his head to not only win the match, but also cause Zakin another injury.

Tim: I feel like I want to punch you!

[Rykopathe grabs the ropes with his right hand, and the ref breaks the hold. Both men get up. Zakin goes to jab Ryko, but Ryko ducks, and lifts Zakin in a fireman’s carry, then turns it into a DDT!]

Jeff: [Normal voice.] THE BLACKOUT?!

Tim: Rykopathe continues to dominate.

Jeff: [Intelligent voice.] And Rykopathe covers Zakin in hopes of achieving a complete pinfall, and a win.

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

[Ryko picks up Zakin, and performs a brain buster on him. Zakin is holding his head on the ground, and screaming in pain. Ryko begins to taunt Zakin and raises his arms to the crowd. Zakin slowly gets up.]

Tim: Zakin could have died there!

Jeff: [Intelligent voice.] However, if Rykopat...

Tim: SHUT UP WITH THAT STUPID VOICE OR I’LL SMACK YOU WITH THE MONITOR!

Jeff: Aye aye, cap’n!

Tim: Argh.

[Ryko turns around and swings at Zakin with a right, but Zakin catches it and turns it into an arm dragon screw. Zakin holds onto the arm and brings Ryko up again. He delivers another arm dragon screw and still holds on. But this time just stomps on the shoulder. Zakin releases Ryko's arm and Ryko grabs his arm in pain. Zakin picks up Ryko and places his atop the turnbuckle.]

Tim: Now what’s going to happen?

Jeff: Maybe he’ll toss him onto an announcer table. Yeah, the Spanish one!

[Zakin punches him in the stomach and then moves back a bit. He comes charging at Ryko, grabs his arm, and flips him to the mat with an armbar. Ryko screams in pain. The ref checks for a submission, but Ryko refuses. Ryko slowly reaches the ropes and the ref forces Zakin to release the hold. Zakin picks up Ryko and plants him with a cradle piledriver. Ryko lies on the floor motionless and Zakin gets the crowd wild. Zakin runs at the ropes and jumps on the rope, then to the other, then to the turnbuckle, splits his legs and delivers a moonsault! The crowd is going wild!]

Tim: Zakin’s momentum is flying. He’s in complete control now!

Jeff: The crowd loves him!!

[Zakin picks up the delirious Ryko and places him in the corner. Zakin turns his back to Ryko and the ref begins to check on Ryko. Without looking, Zakin nails the Shadow Kick on the ref and he is completely knocked out. Ryko has gained consciousness and while Zakin isn't looking, nails a low blow. While Zakin is grabbing his crotch, Ryko turns him around and makes Zakin Cry For Help!]

Tim: That was not fair at all!

Jeff: That’s what’s so lovable about Rykopathe. And remember, Zakin hit the ref!

Tim: Not purposely!

[The crowd is booing Ryko at this point. But Ryko ignores them and goes to the outside. Ryko grabs two chairs. He tosses them in at the same time and gets in himself. He sets Zakin on one and then grabs the other one and heads towards the turnbuckle. He climbs up and nails Zakin with a one hit wonder! Zakin falls to the ground with his eyes rolling into his head.]

Tim: THIS IS WRONG!

Jeff: THIS IS RIGHT!

Tim: YOU’RE CONTRADICTING ME AGAIN!

Jeff: Oh shut up!

[Ryko stands up and waits for the fans to cheer, but instead, they boo him. Suddenly, we see Insomnia emerge from the crowd. He sneaks up behind Ryko and taps him on the shoulder. Insomnia kicks him in the gut, forcing Ryko to drop the chair, and gives him a Sleeping Pill right onto the chair!]

Tim: WHAT IN GOD’S NAME?

Jeff: Tim... I’m scared. Why’s Insomnia helping Zakin?

Tim: Oh... Go suck an egg!

[The crowd is going nuts! Insomnia walks over to Zakin and slaps him in the face a few times. He then picks him up. Zakin staggers a bit, but gains his balance. Zakin grabs the chair and scales the top rope. Zakin hits Ryko with Suicidal Tendency and then covers him! Insomnia slides out of the ring and the ref slowly crawls over to Zakin. He makes the count.]

Tim: ZAKIN’S GOING TO WIN IT!

Jeff: DID YOU SEE THAT SUICIDAL TENDENCY?! WOW!

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

Tim: It’s over! It’s over! Zakin wins!

Jeff: Yeah, thanks to Insomnia!

["Walk" by Kilgore blasts over the speakers and the crowd goes absolutely wild! Insomnia slides in the ring and Zakin gets up. The two stare at each other and then Zakin leaves the ring with his arms high in the air. He walks to the back holding his head.]

Tim: We’ll be back folks.

Jeff: Yeah! And soon, we’ll find out who Trey’s opponent is going to be tonight! I can’t wait for Commissioner Collins to tell us!

Tim: Fuckin suck up.

Jeff: I really cant!

Tim: We’ll be back.

[The Scene cuts to Spike walking into Trevor Lasek's locker room.]

Spike: Hey Trev! I was-

Trevor Lasek: NO.

Spike: I didn't even-

Trevor Lasek: NO.

Spike: At least let me ask-

Trevor Lasek: NO.

Spike: You don't even know-

Trevor Lasek: Yes I do and NO. You're persistent, but God damnit, I won't be your tag partner.

[Chucky Bullard, HWF jr. referee walks by the door.]

Bullard: Mr. Lasek, Mr. Collins is looking for you.

Lasek: Don't touch anything Spike! I'll be right back.

[Lasek leaves.]

Spike: Stupid bastard. He shoulda stuck with the Canadian fat ass gimmick. I wonder, when Trev lights himself on fire, do the Anti-Heroes bust out the marshmallows?

[Spike looks over to the corner of the room and spots a bug zapper board.]

Spike: This could come in handy…

[Spike picks up the bug zapper board and walks out the door, as the shot fades into commercial.]

[Commericals]

[As they come back from commercial, the camera quickly switches to the parking lot of the Pershing Auditorium. It pans around, picking up Lance Sterling standing under a light, obviously waiting for someone to arrive. A minute or two passes before a black limousine pulls up into the lot. Sterling quickly walks over as the door opens and a man steps out, but the camera cannot see his face, instead remaining at chest-level. Sterling shakes the man's hand and the two start to walk towards the Auditiorium itself.]

Lance Sterling: Glad you could make it, man. How have you been?

Man: Everything's fine, Lance. Especially now.

Lance Sterling: Yeah, amen to that. You gonna watch the match?

Man: Of course. I wouldn't miss seeing my old friend back in action. You get rid of the ring rust?

Lance Sterling: Ring rust? Hahaha come on, this is ME you're talking to! Ring rust isn't in my vocab, you should know that. C'mon lets get inside. Time to get this shindig started.

[Both men start to laugh as they walk inside. The camera returns to ringside, where Tim and Jeff are both slightly puzzled.]

Tim: Who was that??

Jeff: Beats me. He obviously knows Lance though, he called him "old friend".

Tim: Yeah...but what did he mean by "especially now"? Do you think he's going to help Lance tonight in his match against Blackjack?

Jeff: Help Lance? Naw, Lance doesn't need any help to win!

Tim: Uh huh...right. I guess we'll see what all this is about, later tonig... wait, where are we going now?

[The camera cuts to backstage yet again, as we join Spike sitting in his locker room taping up his fists for his upcoming match.]

Spike: Damn, looks like tonight's a handicap ma-

[The door opens and Chris "Intensity" Styles walks in with his HWF Canadian title over his shoulder.]

Chris Styles: Still looking for a partner?

Spike: Whoa, of all people, you're offering?

Chris Styles: Look, I know Thrilla doesn't like me, but tonight I'll do him a little favour. You seem to be the more mature one any ways, so other than that and the fact that I respect you, I suggest you accept my offer.

Spike: Alright, that's cool man. You respecting me after all that stuff Thrill says about you and the fact that you're like the first Canadian to hold our country's strap makes me respect you too.

[Spike extends his hand and Styles shakes it, as the camera cuts back to the ring for the tag team match.]

[ The lights in the stadium dim as the camera focuses on the HWF-tron. On the massive screen stretches a gigantic brickwall, with nothing more than a low rumbling sound emitting from the PA system. The rumbling gets louder and louder as it becomes clear it's a loud engine on full throttle. The roar reaches its apex has the brickwall explodes, and a large, Ford Duelly Pickup blasts through as the lights flash wildly to the opening riff of "Lakini's Juice". From the entrance jumps Wildcat and Rickey Williams, jawing at each other and the audience. Both men start walking down the rampway, with Rickey Williams carrying a steel rig girder, and Wildcat Williams carrying a large sack over his shoulder. They quickly slide into the ring, and mount the nearest two turnbuckles. Wildcat cusses wildly at the fans, while Big Texas throws brews into the crowd. Both men dismount and circle the ring before reaching into their pockets to produce microphones.]

Wildcat: This is the first actual televised match that me and my partner here Big Texas have had the pleasure of being in. It's a real honor to be in front of this crowd in Lincoln, Nebraska, whippin' some ass. We got any Cornhusker fans here tonight?

[Crowd pops loudly at the mention of the football team.]

Wildcat: We got a real treat for you folks here tonight. Since our hiring, we've wanted to show our appreciation to the management of the HWF, to thank them for taking a chance on a couple of alcoholics from nowhere. We couldn't help ourselves, knowing we might not see the whole crew come Christmas, so we went out and bought some presents for them. I know it's a little early for Christmas presents, guys, but hey, "It's better to give than to recieve.

Rickey: First up on our Christmas gift list is Spike from the tag team Teen Angst. Now I know we've trashed talked all week, made a hell of alot of threats, but I think deep down, you guys respect us just like we respect you. It's just a job, guys, and we want a good clean match with the best tag team winning. Me and my partner Wildcat here would like to show you just how much respect we have for you, Spike, with this holiday gift.

[Cheap pop from the audience has Rickey Williams starts rummaging through the sack.]

Rickey: I picked this one out myself, Spike. It took some thought, but I think I found the perfect gift for ya.

[Rickey Williams pulls out an economy size box of acne medicine, with a nice little red bow wrapped around it. The small card on top of the package reads: "To: Spike From: Wreckin' Crew"]

Rickey: You can thank us after the match Spike, I know you problably haven't had alot of Christmas presents in the past, your parents being gone and all.

Wildcat: Now on to the other half of the tag team Teen Angst, Chris Thrilla. Me and Big Texas here shopped around, and we found something that might be a little more fun than Spike's gift, but still is a necessity nonetheless. Now shopping for you was pretty damn hard, Thrilla, but with perseverence, The Wrecking Crew found your size; lubricated extra small.

[Wildcat reaches into the bag and pulls out a box of condoms. "Now in Midget!" reads the label on the top. The crowd pops in laughter.]

Wildcat: I know you how you might feel, Thrilla. But when you reach puberty you'll thank us for these. Now we'd like to show everybody what we think of the management of the HWF. Trust me guys, these gifts are from the bottom of our hearts. First up, Commissioner Collins. We almost decided not to get you a gift, seeing as how you've been laying the tubesteak to Jake Robert's wife, but the holiday spirit prevailed. We got together with Mrs. Roberts and we decided this would be the best Christmas gift you could possibly want.

[Wildcat reaches into the bag and whips out a large framed picture of a 300 lb. woman, posing for a glamour shot. The audience roars again in laughter.]

Rickey: She said she wanted you to have this to remember "your time" together. Don't tell Jake, Collins, but her numbers on the back of the frame of you feel frisky later.

Wildcat: Now on to the Head Booker of the HWF, Johnny Drake. We've only met briefly, Mr. Drake, but we still wanted to let you know how much we respect you. We asked around the back there, talkin' to some of the other guys, and decided on the perfect gift for you. Believe me when I say the heart behind this present represents what all of us wrestlers for the HWF think of you.

[Rickey Williams reaches into the sack, and reveals a large package to the audience. The words on the box clearly say "UltraVibe Pleasure 2000". The crowd pops loudly.]

Wildcat: Yes, Mr. Drake, car battery is included. Now on to the man The Wrecking Crew would like to thank the most, CEO Chaz Manson. Again, we hardly know Mr. Manson, but we'd still like to show him what a good investment he made in bringing us into his little empire. Mr. Manson, We we had a hard time deciding just what we should get a man that problably has everything. So we decided to give you an honor that's only been bestowed to one other man here in the HWF. Walk your ass down to the ring anytime, Mr. Manson, and me and Rickey here will give you a Grade A, USDA approved, country asswhippin', with a Double Duece on the side to sweeten the deal. Merry fuckin' piss-on-you-all and have a hell of a night Christmas!

Tim: Did you hear that? The Wrecking Crew are already starting with the staff of HWF, including CEO Chaz Manson!

Jeff: Yeah, I dunno....they shouldn't be starting shit with him yet.

[Wildcat and Rickey Williams throw their mics and weapons out of the ring, and stare up the rampway, waiting.]

["Disposible Teens" by Marilyn Manson blasts throughout the PA system as Spike and Chris "Intensity" Styles walk out onto the rampway. Styles holds the Canadian Title on his left shoulder as the two slowly walk to ringside. Styles throws his belt down to the ground by ringside and hop up onto the apron. He and Spike taunt in unison, as the music fades out and the bell sounds.]

Jeff: Let's get this match underway!!

[Wildcat grabs Styles by the hair then tosses him over the rope, as Rickey does the same. Styles and Spike fly over the barbed-wire, getting hung up on the way. Rickey picks Spike up by the hair and tosses him into the opposite corner as Wildcat starts punching Styles, backing him into the corner, then lifts him up onto the top rope to go for the Rig Drop. Wildcat finally gets on Style's shoulders, but Styles holds him up there then swings Wildcat around, hinging his neck up on the barbed wire. Wildcat grabs his neck immediately then rolls out of the ring. Styles heads over to Spike and Rickey, who are duking it out fist to fist near the far left corner. Styles catches Rickey in the back of the head with a clenched fist, then Spike and Styles throw Rickey into the ropes, then catch him on the bounce and lift him up, then hang him onto the ropes neck first.]

Tim: Look at this carnage! Rickey and Wildcat were both hung out on those barbed wire ropes!

Jeff: Yeah, this shit's already getting good!

[Styles and Spike start to pick Rickey up, but Wildcat grabs Styles by the leg and drags him out of the ring. Spike and Rickey lock up, pushing each other back and forth. Rickey, being the stronger of the two, forces Spike into the corner and swings his arm for a knock-out punch, but Spike dives out of the way and pushes Rickey into the turnbuckle. Spike throws a flurry of lefts and rights at Rickey's face and mid-section, grabs his wrist and whips him to the far corner. Rickey hits the buckles hard, stumbling out of the corner. Spike charges, but Rickey looks up in time, doing the same, and swings his massive Texan arm for a HUGE clothesline. Spike barely ducks the clothesline from hell and runs into the corner. With all of his momentum carrying him, Spike hops up onto the top turnbuckle, holding himself with his arms for a few short seconds with a crooked handstand. Rickey runs back into the corner at Spike, who spins 180 degrees on his way down and catches the neck of the bigger Williams with his legs in a hurricanrana position. Spike is still holding onto the top turnbuckle, preventing himself from falling, and launches himself to the right, swinging his entire body, and sending Rickey into the barbed-wire ropes with a side-hurricanrana!]

Tim: Holy shit! Spike with a huge swinging side hurricanrana into the barbed wire ropes!

Jeff: These Texans think they're all bad, they fuckin underestimated Teen Angst! Or at least...Spike, anyway...

[Spike rolls over, then gets an arm over Rickey's chest.]

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

Tim: Near fall there, Spike nearly ended the match right there.

Jeff: Spike nearly ended Rickey's career right there, let alone the match!

[Spike rolls over as the camera turns to Wildcat and Styles, who are outside of the ring brawling. Styles whips Wildcat into the barricade, landing hard on his back. Styles runs over and gives hi a couple of rights to the face, then throws Wildcat to the stairs. Wildcat jumps at the last moment onto the steel steps, then jumps onto the apron and dives at Styles, landing on him with a crossbody block. Styles and Wildcat both fall to the ground, Wildcat starting to crawl over to the barricade. Spike and Rickey are back up and start exchanging knuckles, Rickey catches Spike with a kick to the midsection then puts him into a gutwrench, then lifts him up and powerbombs Spike. Wildcat is now back on his feet, and walks over to fan and grabs a beer from him. Wildcat looks down at Styles, but suddenly turns around and douses Jeff with the beer.]

Jeff: Sonuvafuckingbitch!!!

Tim: What the hell is Billy Williams thinking?

Jeff: The bastard fuckin soaked me with beer!

[Wildcat laughs about it for a second, then slides back into the ring and stands next to Rickey. The two men pick Spike up, then lift him and put him into the double crucifix armbar. Spike yells in pain, but the two men keep him in it. Styles suddenly slides back into the ring and hits Wildcat in the back, making him look back at Styles and let go of Spike. Styles back off a little, as Rickey now turns around to face Styles. Styles looks around, backing up into the corner, then suddenly turns around and jumps onto the second rope, then jumps back and twists in the air, crossbody blocking both men and falling to the ground. Styles covers Wildcat.]

[One... ...Tw...KICKOUT!!]

Tim: Barely a two count there from that pin by Chris "Intensity" Styles, our newest HWF Canadian champion.

Jeff: I can't believe Zakin couldn't hang onto that belt for at least two weeks. *Cough*Wuss*Cough*. Excuse me, I must be a little cold from that friggin' BEER SPILLED ON ME, BASTARD!!!

[Styles raises to his feet, as Spike is now on his feet also. The two pick Wrecking Crew up to their feet, but Wildcat suddenly grabs Styles' head and slams it intot he barbed wire ropes, and does it repeatedly, then sends Styles flying over the ropes and out of the ring completely. Rickey grabs Spikes hand and short arm clotheslines him to the ground violently. Spike slowly stands, holding his head, dizzy and slightly stunned. Rickey and Billy take hold of Spike arms, sending him against the wire with an Irish-whip. Spike rebounds, while The Wrecking Crew lock arms for a double clothesline. They charge towards the oncoming Spike, who ducks his head low, trying to avoid the double clothesline. Spike pops back up behind the two, catches both of their heads with a double-neckbreaker, jumps into the air sweeping their knees out with his heels, and lays them both out with a jumping STO/Neckbreaker combo!]

Tim: What a move by Spike on both members of the Wrecking Crew!

Jeff: I don't say this too often, but I hope that Spike and Styles beat the hell outta these assholes. This was a nice shirt man!

[Spike turns over to pin Wildcat.]

[One... ...Two... ...Th..BREAK UP BY RICKEY!!!]

Tim: Damn, that was so close! Spike had this won!

Jeff: Get the hell up and kick their ass some more! What the hell are you waitin' for, the day you can finally get your drivers license!? What the fuck!? And why the hell has Styles been spending more time outside the ring than in it?

[Spike slowly gets up, as does Rickey. Styles is showing signs of movements outside the ring, helping himself up using the barricade. Rickey and Spike exchange a few blows to the face. Spike comes out on top, whipping Rickey into the barbed wire ropes then clotheslining him into the barbed wire, making Rickey's back scrape against the barbed wire. Rickey comes back with a rake to Spike's eyes, then slips around behind Spike. Rickey grabs Spike's waist for a German suplex, but Spike locks his arms around Rickey's head and counters with a jawbreaker. Rickey holds his chin in pain while Spike takes a coil of barbed wire and wraps it around his knee and tightens it so the barbs dig into his leg. Spike wraps the middle of the coil around Rickey's stomach and abdomen, making scratch marks with the razor-sharp wire. With the remaining length of wire, Spike wraps up Rickey's shoulders and neck and yanks on the wire, making the barbs stick into Rickey's skin. Spike grapevines Rickey's leg with his own, and pulls his arm back for a standing reverse arm-bar to make an Abdominal Stretch. Spike wrenches down hard with the wire raking at his body, but more-so into Rickey's. Spike releases his grapevine and locks in the same hold with the opposite leg. Spike kicks up that leg and wraps it around Rickey's neck, making the barbs dig further into his throat, and pulls back and forth relentlessly, trying to drive Rickey into submission with the Octopus Stretch. The ref walks over and starts checking on Rickey, seeing if he wants to give up.]

Tim: Spike has him in the Octopus Stretch! He could have the match in the palms of his hands right here!

Jeff: I hate Spike.but I hate those damn Texans more. KEEP HIM LOCKED IN, SPIKE!

[Rickey is screaming in pain and is about to give up when all o a sudden Wildcat slides back into the ring with a beer bottle, then breaks it over the back of Spike's head. Styles finally slides back into the ring, but Rickey kicks Styles in the midsection then uses the Roughrider, a.k.a. Pedigree. Rickey looks back to Billy, who is setting Spike up onto the top rope for the Rig Drop. Wildcat finally has him up there, then jumps onto Spike's shoulders then flips back, executing the top rope hurricanrana. Wrecking Crew look at each other, then both pick Spike up and double DDT him to the mat. The two men look at each other, then Rickey drops to his knees to pin when all of a sudden, Chris Thrilla's voice plays over the p.a. "Close your eyes, take my hand, and let darkness lead you to new light." Disposable Teens by Marilyn Manson (Teen Angst's new theme music)blares as red strobe lights flash. Chris Thrilla runs down the ramp but stops just before entering the ring. Billy leans over the barbed wire third rope motioning for Chris Thrilla to come in, but Styles suddenly low blows Billy. Thrilla climbs onto the apron, and Styles pushes Billy's head between the second and third ropes. With Wildcat's head still hanging outside the ropes, Thrilla runs towards him and does a flying headscissor takedown dropping Billy on the back of his head on the cement floor.]

Tim: And here's Chris Thrilla! The Canadian Killah has come out to help Spike and Chris "Intensity" Styles against the Wrecking Crew!

Jeff: I don't know what the fuck is happening right now, but they're kickin' the shit outta "Wildcat" Billy Williams' ass! Fuck yeah!!!

[Spike attacks Rickey and Thrilla Slides under the barbed wire ropes into the ring. Teen Angst double Irish whip Rickey against the ropes and try a double clothesline, but Big Texas ducks and bounces off the opposite ropes. Rickey tries a double lariat of his own but Teen Angst duck and hook Rickey's arms and head in a double suplex position and double knee him in the gut. They try to lift him once, but Big Texas blocks. They try again and Rickey kicks his legs and is set back down. They try once more and lift him about halfway up. Styles runs over, puts Rickey's thighs on his shoulders (in position for the square piledriver). All three men drop Rickey on his head simultaneously, hitting a combination of Teen Angst's D.I.D.U. DDT and Styles' square piledriver. Styles goes for the cover and the ref slowly wakes up and crawls over.]

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

Jeff: Hell yes! Those dumass Texans' pay for screwing with Jeff Robinson! The bitches!

Tim: Teen Angst, I mean, Chris Styles and Spike have defeated the Wrecking Crew in this hell of a match! Wait, they're not done yet.

[Billy stands then slides into the ring, but Thrilla hoists him up over his shoulder in a flapjack position and Teen Angst hit the High School Dropout on Billy!]

Tim: Teen Angst hits a huge High School Dropout on "Wildcat" Billy Williams! What a match!

Jeff: Damn straight.

["Disposable Teens" by Marilyn Manson hits through the speakers as Thrilla and Spike five each other, then five Styles. All three men slide out of the ring, then start walking up the ramp, turning back around near the curtains to laugh and taunt Wrecking Crew.]

Tim: Stay with us folks... Mayhem and Storm; after this!!

[Commercials]

Tim: Two newcomers, Mayhem and Jonathan Storm, have been set up in a ‘Wrestling Clinic Plus’ match as Commissioner Shawn Collins called it. You must make your opponent submit once and you must pin your opponent once for the win. So, you must win by doing one of each. The ‘Plus’ part that Shawn Collins added was the two poles at opposite turnbuckles. On each pole is a weapon. It seems as the weapons were already put up. One turnbuckle has an electrical extension cord. The other turnbuckle has a copper baseball bat. Where did they get a copper baseball bat? I have no idea!

Jeff: Who cares! This is gonna be one hell of a match! Here comes that crazy bastard, Mayhem!

[The lights in the arena go out as the techno sound of Rob Zombie's "Dragula remix" hit loudly throughout the arena. Blue, Red and Purple spotlights flash on and off all around the arena almost like a dangerous lightning storm. Strange voices echo quietly in the song as the tune of the music begins to pick up. As the music builds up all lights go off leaving the ring in pitch-blackness while only blue strobe lights flash down on the ramp revealing a large man crouched down on one knee on the stage. As Rob Zombie begins to "sing" Mayhem begins to slowly rise to his feet. Walking slowly down the ramp he stops as the music hits a strange stutter. Then with an incredible burst of speed Mayhem bolts down to the ring as the song hits it chorus. Sliding into the ring he quickly stand and roars loud. The blue lights making him look even more like a monster. As the song fades the lights do as well and Mayhem stands quietly the lights of the arena reflecting off his mask]

Jeff: I like that mask!

Tim: Well, this is his debut. Let’s see what these two men can do!

[The lights dim in the arena as the beginning chords of "Papercut" by Linkin Park begin to play. As the song begins to hit the heavy part, two blasts of pyrotechnics shoot up from the side of the stage as Jonathan Storm is raised from a rotating, rising platform. He steps out and surveys the crowd, grinning, as he walks down to the ring.]

[Mayhem tries to go for a clothesline as Storm enters the ring, but Storm ducks, and runs to the ropes. Both men catch each other in the middle with a double clothesline. They get up quickly, and begin to exchange punches. Mayhem gives Storm one good shot to the gut making him bend over. Mayhem takes the opportunity and lays a DDT on Storm.]

Tim: Nice DDT by Mayhem.

Jeff: Now, he can go for those weapons!

[Mayhem goes toward the turnbuckle with the copper baseball bat on it. He climbs the turnbuckle, and reaches up to grab the weapon off the pole. Storm sees this, and quickly gets up. He runs over to the turnbuckle and dropkicks Mayhem. Mayhem’s head hits the pole, and he falls forward to the outside of the ring - onto the steel steps!]

Tim: Oh my God!

Jeff: That HAD to hurt!

Tim: Hurt or not hurt, Mayhem’s getting up.

[Mayhem gets up, and sees Storm running the ropes. Storm jumps off the ropes in hopes of landing a huge over the rope splash on Mayhem. But Mayhem catches him in mid-air on his way down for the splash.]

Tim: LOOK AT THE STRENGTH!

Jeff: It’s just a phase.

Tim: What?!

[Storm elbows Mayhem in the back of the head continuously, dropping him to the ground, with Storm on top of him. Storm gets up and gives Mayhem a few jabs to the head. He grabs the sides of Mayhems mask and pulls him up. Storm pulls Mayhem over to the announcer table, and slams his head down on it a few times.]

Jeff: Not on OUR table! Do it to them!

Tim: Oh, I thought Jonathan Storm didn’t like using “weapons”.

Jeff: It’s a no dq match! Let him do whatever he wants!

[Storm then takes Mayhem back into the ring. He bounces off the ropes, but Mayhem catches him with a clothesline this time. Storm falls to the ground and Mayhem begins to kick him, and pummel him on the floor. He lifts Storms leg, and concentrates on Storms knee.]

Tim: Mayhem is being smart, attacking the swift Jonathan Storm’s leg.

Jeff: Yeah, I guess... Since Mayhem has no way of out smarting, and out maneuvering Jonathan Storm! The Pop-Sensation!

[Mayhem continues to attack the inner-knee of Storm. He applies a figure-four. Storm yell out in pain, but doesn’t give up. He grabs the ropes, and Mayhem lets go the hold. Mayhem then walks to one turnbuckle, while Jonathan Storm is struggling to get up. Mayhem climbs the turnbuckle, and reaches for the copper baseball bat. Storm gets up, and tries to climb the other turnbuckle. Since the extension cord is longer than the bat, Storm has no problems in grabbing it. Storm goes onto the outside, behind where Mayhem is reaching for the bat. Mayhem grabs it, and Storm lassos the extension cord around Mayhem’s neck. Storm pulls, and Mayhem grabs on to the pole for help. The pole breaks, and Mayhem goes flying back onto the announcer table.]

Tim: SHIT!

Jeff: Folks, this match is getting more exciting by the minute!

[Mayhem twitches a little on the broken table, and Storm goes for the pin.]

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

Tim: Three count! Storm gets the first win over Mayhem! Now all he has to do is make Mayhem submit, and he’ll win the match!

Jeff: Quickly! Make him submit!

[Storm quickly takes the chance, and applies a dragon sleeper hold on Mayhem. The ref lifts his arm. One............ Two........... Thre............ His arm stays up!]

Tim: Mayhem’s still in this!

Jeff: That means more carnage!

[Mayhem gets up, and blocks an attack by Storm. He then swings the bat, and hits Storm in the same knee he was working on earlier. Storm drops to the ground in pain. Mayhem continues to attack the knee, and once went for Storm’s face. But Storm moved out of the way. Mayhem grabs Storm’s legs and applies a one-legged Boston Crab.]

Tim: Storm can’t survive this with that knee in the condition it’s in!

Jeff: What the hell did you just say? Didn’t you take grammar classes, asshole?

Tim: Huh? Shut up!

[Storm quickly taps as he cries out in pain. Before Mayhem breaks the bone, the ref breaks the hold.]

Tim: Mayhem gets Storm to submit! He just needs to pin him!

Jeff: Let’s see some good weapon use here!

[Mayhem picks up the extension cord, and plugs it in near the monitors.]

Jeff: What the hell?

Tim: Oh God... what’s happening here?

[Mayhem then pulls on the cord, tearing it in two pieces.]

Jeff: SHIT! HE’S CRAZY!

Tim: SPARKS ARE FLYING FROM THE OPEN CIRCUITS!

[Behind Mayhem, Storm picks up the copper bat, and creeps up behind him, limping. He strikes Mayhem in the back, and Mayhem falls onto the open circuits, getting electrocuted. He’s shaking as the surge is passing through his body, and then catching on to the copper bat. Now, the bat, made of copper, which is an excellent conductor of electricity, is like a lightning rod. And Jonathan Storm is holding on to it! Both men are literally frying near the announcer table!]

Tim: OH MY...

Jeff: ...GOD!!

[The crowd begins to chant.]

[“HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT!”]

[Mayhem falls to the floor as someone has unplugged the cord. Storm falls as well. Storms hands have been burnt. And Mayhem’s arms are bleeding. Both men are twitching on the ground, but are still barely conscious. Mayhem looks over at Storm, and the crowd can faintly hear him laughing.]

[“AAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAHAAA!!”]

Jeff: MAYHEM IS A CRAZY SON OF A BITCH!

Tim: THIS MATCH HAS GONE TOO FAR!

[Mayhem plugs the cord back in and begins to taunt Storm by waving the open circuits in his face. Mayhem picks up the copper bat, and carefully wraps the cord around it. He’s created a unique weapon. The cord can be held, but the tip of the cord is attached to the bat, creating a virtually perfect replica of a lightning rod. Mayhem begins to slam the bat onto Storm, holding it by the cord. He places the bat above Storms face. Storm begins to cry out loud, and Mayhem just laughs. The ref unplugs the cord again, and Mayhem just stares at him.]

[“H-W-F! H-W-F! H-W-F!” chants are heard as well as chants of “HO-LY FUCK! HO-LY FUCK!”]

Jeff: This is pure insanity!

Tim: Just get it over with, Mayhem!!

[Mayhem then laughs in the refs face, and lies down on the twitching Jonathan Storm. The ref makes the count.]

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

Tim: MAYHEM HAS BEATEN STORM!

Jeff: The paramedics are coming out to tend to both men. What a match!

Tim: It shouldn’t have gone this far! Folks, we’ll be back. And we’ll have an update on both men’s conditions sooner this week.

[EMT's rush out to the ring, and eventually help both men to the back. The shot begins to fade right into commercials.]

[Commercials]

Tim: Alright, we're back... it's now time for the match I've been most curious about this past week.

Jeff: Main Event time!?!

Tim: No, not yet... be patient.

[On the HWF-tron, the screen begins to slowly strobe white light. Within a few seconds, the words "REINVENT YOURSELF" flash up on the screen and strobe for a moment before fading. A few opening notes sound in the arena quietly in the darkness. A HUGE explosion rocks the place as the music hits the first beat of "What's My Name" by DMX. Dark red, silver, and gold laser lights flicker all over the place as some slight fog fills the entrance. As the music hits individual words with the 3 heavy beats, the lasers seem to pulse in rhythm as well as video clips of Michael on the HWF-tron. It's like they're beating along with the music as Michael Trey comes out alone, screaming the words along to the music and slapping fans' hands.]

Nigel Rolston: And introducing first, in this match.... MICHAEEEEEEEEEL TREY!

Jeff: Hey Tim-bo, you heard who is mystery opponent is yet?

Tim: No... it's not on my informational briefing-thing-mabobber here...

Jeff: ... thing-mabobber?!

Tim: I heard it's somebody who knows Trey really well...

Jeff: Not me, I heard it might even be someone not currently on the HWF roster.

[The crowd pops at the mention of Trey. He grabs a mic and hops up onto the ropes.]

Michael Trey: Alright ladies and gentlemen. I'm going to keep this short... and to the point. Last week I was brutally attacked with a goddamn stun gun and Claire was kidnapped AGAIN. The HWF doesn't seem to give a damn about that, so I'm going to be conducting my own investigation. Trevor Lasek already has been questioned... and if I have to beat the hell out of every one of you, I will. The first man on my "getting beat to hell" list is none other than Commish Shawn "I reek of cheap-slut-itude" Collins... get your ass out here!

[The crowd gives major heat as "Clubbed to Death" by Rob D hits the speakers. Shawn Collins comes out and stands up on the ramp and grins smugly, allowing the boos to flow over him before speaking.]

Shawn Collins: Ahem... shut the hell up! You fans are so predictable, it's.... redicu-tudinous. Hey, cool, new word!

[More boos, heavier, and Trey starts getting upset in the ring.]

Shawn Collins: Oh come on man, don't get all pissy... I didn't take Claire anyways. I am, however, going to make these 6 weeks of your career the worst you've ever seen; loss after loss, humiliation after humiliation.

Michael Trey: Really? Just what mystery opponent-

Shawn Collins: Did I ask you to talk? NO! I'm not finished. Ya see, I'm doing this horrible act not just because, well, it's fun... but because you severely injured Bisc last week. Goddamn, Trey... he might DIE...

[Crowd has a mixed reaction; they aren't sure how to feel about that. Collins smirks widely and starts walking down to the ring while Trey paces inside the ring, thinking. Collins walks around towards the timekeeper's table.]

Michael Trey: [deep breath] Listen! That was a MISTAKE. I didn't mean to do that.

Shawn Collins: Aww... see my tears, Michael? I don't care what you MEANT, that's what you DID. And now, you're going to pay in every way I can imagine, starting with your mystery opponent tonight. Now, I've taken it upon myself to make this a NO DQ match, and one weapon may be brought to the ring!

Michael Trey: But I don't HAVE a weapon.

Shawn Collins: Well, sucks to be you. Boys in the back... HIT HIS MUSIC!

Tim: Who is this guy? I've been wondering who he'd pull out all week....

["She Bangs" by Ricky Martin begins to play wildly as Shawn hands a piece of paper to Nigel.]

Nigel Rolston: And Michael's opponent, in this match... "Super Sexy" Diablo El Dildo!

Tim: WHAT THE HELL?

Jeff: ... ohmigod, this reeks o-

[Jeff stops speaking... because Super Sexy, aka Diablo El Dildo comes through the curtains! The crowd gives almost an in unison "... what the hell" type response, before booing him a little. The camera zooms in on Diablo El Dildo, revealing that he's some unknown luchador with a big dildo on his shirt, wearing a mask that looks like a condom! Jeff almost begins crying, he's laughing so hard. Diablo walks to ringside, doing pelvic thrusts at any female near the aisle. He attempts to give a fan a high five, but the fan doesn't even want to touch him. Michael, meanwhile, is just shaking his head, leaning against the turnbuckle.]

Shawn Collins: Well, I'm going to go commentate... oh shit, hold on! Diablo! Where is your weapon?!

[Diablo smacks himself in the head, and Collins sighs.]

Shawn Collins: I can't believe you forgot it, you dumbass. Here, it's under the ring, moron.

[Collins reaches under the ring and grabs a box, tossing it to "Super Sexy". The luchador catches it and holds it up to the camera... it's a goddamn strap on dildo! The man rips open the box, but Trey runs at him, clotheslining him down.]

Tim: This has got to be the most pointless and disgusting shit I've seen in my stay here at HWF... good god...

Jeff: HAHAHAHAHAHA... Get him, EL DILDO!!! WOOOHOOO!

[Collins meanders over to the commentating booth and grabs a headset. Meanwhile, inside the ring, Trey picks up Super Sexy and presses him against the ropes, irish whipping him across the ring. El Dildo hops up onto the opposite ropes and does a springboard moonsault towards Trey! Michael grabs him in midair, ready for a Tombstone piledriver.]

Shawn Collins: 69! 69! 69!

Jeff: Oh my god... the laughing... I can't breathe....

Shawn Collins: BWAHAHAHAHAA...

Tim: You guys are idiots, you know that?

[Trey realizes from Collins' and the crowd's reactions just what position his is holding... uhm... El Dildo. He lets go immediately in disgust, sort of dropping El Dildo on his... uhm... head. Anyways, Trey picks him up and sets him up for a powerbomb. As he lifts Super Sexy up onto his shoulders, the luchador hangs on and punches Trey's head a few times, and then starts grinding on him! Trey drops him quickly into a sit down powerbomb. The ref goes to make a count, but Trey is already up and clawing at his face. Diablo gets up a bit and as Trey returns, El Dildo knocks Trey with a low blow.]

Jeff: Now THAT'S what I call HEAD-to-HEAD combat, if ya know what I'm saying...

Shawn Collins: Heheheheh...

[El Dildo gets to his feet and goes straight for his weapon: the strap on dildo. He... uhm... "engages" the device, putting it on, and then runs at Michael, who runs around the ring away from Diablo!]

Shawn Collins: ... ahhh this is entertainment!

[Shawn and Jeff begin laughing so hard that they fall out of their announce chairs! Meanwhile, Trey and El Dildo race around the ring still. This goes on for three or four laps, Trey being just chased around the ring. Finally, Trey just turns and delivers a superkick straight to Diablo's chest, knocking him down. Trey goes for the pin, doing a Jericho-esqe pin with his foot just BARELY touching El Dildo's chest.]

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

Nigel Rolston: And your... uhm, winner.... MICHAEL TREY!

[Trey kicks Super Sexy Diablo El Dildo out of the ring, and spits down at him. The luchador gets up and his strap has busted... he pulls the dildo off and looks at Trey, back at the dildo, and then tosses it somewhere into the crowd. The luchador pulls the condom-like mask off and walks backstage as "She Bangs" plays once again.]

Shawn Collins: Well, boys, this is my cue...

Tim: What?!

[Collins drops his headset and hops up onto the ring. Trey comes towards him, but Collins drops his neck down across the ropes. Collins then reaches under the ring and grabs a fire extinguisher, slides into the ring, and douses Trey in the fumes! The fog clears, and Trey is pure WHITE in chemicals, holding his eyes and trying to find Collins. Collins laughs and walks towards Trey. Trey, hearing Collins approach, grabs him blindly and nails Collins with a Flash of Pain DDT! Collins hits the mat as both men roll on the canvas. A crew of HWF officials comes running down and helps separate the two and help each to the back.]

Tim: ... this was the goddamn weirdest shit I think I've seen in HWF history.

Jeff: Just short of old Thorne Reinhart's promos back in the day, right?

Tim: Let's not get started on Thorne and HIS problems.

Jeff: Or Sticks' lovely fetish with Brittany Spears?

Tim: Enough Jeff...

Jeff: I mean, why SHOULDN'T we have a luchador on our roster who's name is "Super Sexy" Diablo El Dildo?! Just because he's got a strange weapon...

Tim: A strap on? That's more than weird...

Jeff: Well, I thought it was funny.

Tim: You would.... shit, we gotta cut to commercial.

[Commercials]

[The camera fades back in, to find Johnny Drake standing in the center of the ring. He is wearing black dress pants, and a very tight referee's shirt. He stands alone in the ring, where a Cell hangs about 10 feet above his head.]

Tim: Folks, you know what this means...

Jeff: That's right, it's time for Extream to finally get some respect!

Tim: No...

Jeff: Oh, then it's time for Gavin Coens to get his push!

Tim: No...

Jeff: Well, what time is it then?

Tim: It's time for the most brutal match of the night... Hell in a Cell...

Jeff: Pffftt....

[As the lights in the arena dim a cloud of smoke filters onto the entrance way. Green and white lights flash through the fog. Out of no where the words "fuck you I won't do what you tell me" blares over the P.A. as a harsh guitar strikes and a loud explosion happens in the entranceway. A few moments later Extream emurges with a chair in his left hand. He walks till he is completely out of the smoke and leans on the the chair with his left hand. Suddenly he throws his right hand up in the air and another smaller explosion happens behind him. Then he starts to walk to the ring. He pushes the chair in the ring under the bottom rope and rolls in himself. He grabs the chair, stands up and puts both hands in the air, one holding the chair. He then opens the chair and places it in the corner. He stands on the seat and looks around at the fans getting a big reaction. He then takes a seat as he waits for his opponent.]

Tim: No eye contact between Drake and Extream... maybe that's a good thing...

["Heavy" plays over the loud speaker as the lights dim and red strobe lights begin to flash. . Gavin steps forward with his arms out towards his fans. The music is almost drowned out by the amount of boo'ing. Gavin doesn't seem to notice as he reaches out to his fans. He makes his way down to ring and steps in between the ropes. Gavin enters the ring as the ring lights back up.]

Jeff: Alright; all three men are in the ring... BRING DOWN THE CELL!!

[On cue, the cell begins to lower down to the ground. Extream stands up and kicks his chair to the outside, as the cell finally reaches the ground and the cables on top loosen up. Drake orders the bell to sound, and it does so as Gavin and Extream begin circling each other around the ring. Drake orders the fight to start, and Gavin is the first to attack with an attempted standing side kick on Extream. Extream dodges it, however, and drops Gavin down to the mat with a DDT.]

Tim: Quick DDT by Extream.

Jeff: YOu could cut the hatred with a kni... er, wait, how does that saying go?

[Extream lifts Gavin up to his feet and throws him into the corner. Extream begins stomping a mudhole in Gavin (and walking it dry) until Gavin is slunched down in the corner. Extream walks back about 10 feet or so, and then runs at Gavin. He goes for a baseball slide dropkick to the nuts, but Gavin rolls out of the way, and Extream goes crotch-first into the ringpost. The crowd gasps. Gavin gets to his feet and drops a leg across Extream's head. He gets up and drops an elbow this time. He gets up, yet again, and drops a stiff knee across Extream's head. He turns him over and goes for an early pin.]

Jeff: Flury of attacks by Gavin Coens...

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

Tim: No... he couldn't get him...

[Gavin gets to his feet and pulls up Extream. He puts him in suplex position and tries to lift him over. Extream slips out though, and pushes Gavin to the ropes. Gavin bounces back towards Extream but immediately gets hit with a standing side kick; dropping Gavin HARD to the mat.]

Tim: Extreme Kick!!

[Extream drops to the mat and rolls to the outside of the ring. He grabs Gavin by the leg and pulls him to the outside as well. Extream, then, throws Gavin into one of the cell walls, and Gavin falls to the floor. Extream walks over and grabs the chair he brought to ringside, as Johnny Drake slides to the outside to officiate. Gavin slowly gets to his feet, and Extream winds up. Extream swings the chair, baseball bat-style, at Gavin, but Gavin ducks and Extream smashes the cell wall; PUTTING A HOLE RIGHT THROUGH IT and sending the chair into the audience.]

Tim: WATCH OUT!!

Jeff: HOLY SHIT!! Extream just put a hole in the Cell!!

[Extream looks back at Gavin, and the two begin duking it out. Extream gets the upperhand, and backs Gavin up to the ringpost. He goes for a running clothesline, but Gavin ducks YET AGAIN, and Extream slams his arm into the unforgiving steel of the post.]

Jeff: Extream is not having much luck with the ringposts tonight...

[Extream charges back at Gavin, and ducks one of his clotheslines. Extream locks on a rear waistlock, but Gavin reverses it into a rear waistlock of his own. He quickly forces Extream up into a back suplex, and walks over to the cell hole. Gavin pushes Extream's leg and lower body through the hole and releases him; so that he is dangling there, and cannot get out.]

Jeff: What the hell!?! Help him out Drake!!

Tim: Why!?! Extream's the one who assaulted Drake a few weeks bac-

Jeff: I don't care, he's helpless!! Gavin could kill him if he so pleases!!

Tim: Oh, quit whining...

[Gavin looks at Extream and smiles a little. Johnny Drake watches on as Gavin hops onto the apron, and then onto the top rope. Extream struggles to get out, as Gavin stands on the top turnbuckle. Suddenly, Gavin flies off of the top rope, and hits a legdrop on the idle Extream stuck in the cage; ripping the hole even bigger and sending both men CRASHING down to the concrete floor.]

Jeff: WHAT THE SHIT!?!

Tim: HUGE Guillotine Legdrop on the floating Extream on the outside!!

[Gavin, inbetween holding his tailbone, somehow makes the cover on Extream. Johnny Drake shrugs his shoulders at the camera, and then goes for the count.]

Tim: Could this be it!?!

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

Jeff: NO... I mean; YES... er, DAMMIT!!

Tim: Gavin Coens won it!!

[The cell begins to raise in the air, as Gavin and Extream lay on the ground motionless. Johnny Drake tries to help Gavin up to his feet, to raise his hand, but Gavin rips his hand away and starts yelling something at Johnny Drake. Drake gives him the "Okay" look and turns around to wait for Extream to get up. Extream gets onto his knees, when Gavin grabs Drake in a double arm bar and drops him down to the floor with a front russian legsweep; impacting Drake's head with Extream's head and knocking both men out!!]

Jeff: HOLY SHIT!!

Tim: Gavin Coens just gave Johnny Drake a Cardinal Syn onto Extream's head!!

Jeff: That's what Drake gets for being one of the only GOOD GUY staff members left...

Tim: Shit... get somebody out here...

[A few EMT's rush to the ring, as "Heavy" plays over the PA System and Gavin walks over to the back. Just then, the camera cuts to the back, to Lance Sterling's locker room to be precise. Tony Bradshaw stands next to Sterling, who is still in his ring attire but minus the LSHWF Title, which has been removed for the main event. Sterling has on a pair of dark shades, and is standing with his arms crossed against his chest. He's also chewing some gum. He cocks his head in Bradshaw's direction.]

Tony Bradshaw: Lance Sterling, in just a couple of minutes you're set to take on Blackjack, the HWF Champion, and-

Lance Sterling [cutting him off]: Tony, Tony, Tony. Get your facts straight. I'M the real HWF champion. Not that poser Blackjack.

Tony Bradshaw: That remains to be seen...anyways, it's going to be a double title ladder match with both the..ahem, official HWF title and your Lance Sterling HWF title hanging above the ring. Now, I know what you think about Blackjack but you have to admit that he's a hell of a wrestler-

Lance Sterling: Hell of a wrestler? Blackjack? Tony, are you aware you said both those things in the same sentence? How wrong you are...*sighs* Tony, let me explain something to you. Everything I said about Blackjack is the truth. He whines like no tomorrow, he gripes and bitches and moans and crys like a two year old baby, just because he's too jealous to admit that I'm better than he is. What's there to say? The man is a joke; at least he'll be a joke after I get done of him tonight. Tony, I guarendamntee that after tonight I will once again be the HWF champion. Let Blackjack try to stop me. He's going to be in for a little surprise tonight; that's all I gotta say.

Tony Bradshaw: What about that man you met with earlier? You're "old friend". What role will he play in this confrontation?

Lance Sterling: Tony.. you ask too many questions. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a world title to win.

[Sterling takes off the shades and gives a mean glare at the camera. He pushes Bradshaw aside and walks out the door to the locker room. He rounds a corner and starts to walk towards the ring, as the camera fades into commercial.]

[Commercials]

Tim: Alright folks, we're back, and ready for the MAIN EVENT!!

[The camera pans up to above the ring, where the HWF World Title, and Lance's Title hang, swinging around in the air. It then goes down to the ring, where a 12-foot ladder is set up in the center of the ring.]

Jeff: Let's get this one started...

[As "Memory Remains" by Metallica blasts from the P.A. system the crowd explodes into cheers, and most start to sing along. Silver and gold strobe lights begins to flash around the arena as Lance Sterling walks out from the curtain. He's wearing long black and gold tights with his trademark slogan "I am the greatest!" emblazoned on the front. Black elbowpads, white wristbands, and black boots complete his ring attire. Sterling pauses on in front of the curtains for a couple of seconds before slowly walking down the ramp and around the ring, flashing his smile and interacting with the fans at ringside. He climbs into the ring and climbs the upper right-hand turnbuckle, raising both his hands in the air and getting a huge pop from the crowd. As he gets down from the turnbuckle, the music dies down.]

Jeff: This is it... Lance is FINALLY getting his shot.

Tim: Finally getting his shot!?! I know I just didn't hear that...

Jeff: Grrrrr...

["Fame" by DMX plays over the Public Announcement system. Right before the first chorus, Blackjack steps through the curtain with his head down and a bottle of water in his right hand. He lifts his head and looks around. He pours some water on his head and then Stephanie then comes out and puts her hand in Blackjack's. The two then walk down to the ring, Blackjack taking an occasional drink of the bottle. Blackjack then leads Stephanie to her spot on the outside and Blackjack climbs the steel steps into the ring. He stands there and raises his hands. Because of his heel status he gets booed loudly. Blackjack then walks on the apron and steps through the ring ropes. He gets in the ring and bounces off the ropes to check them out. He takes one last sip of his drink and tosses it out into the stands.]

Jeff: Alrighty, let's get this match underway!!

[The bell sounds as Blackjack runs at Sterling and levels him with a stiff clothesline. Sterling drops near the corner and Blackjack begins furiously stomping on him. Sterling fights his way to his feet, however, and kicks Blackjack right in the groin. Blackjack tumbles over, and Sterling gets to his feet. He grabs the ladder and tips it over on Blackjack, who gets hit right in the head with it.]

Tim: OUCH!!

[Sterling picks up the ladder and folds it up. As Blackjack rises, Sterling prepares himself and then jabs Blackjack with it right in the gut. Blackjack drops down to his hands and knees, where Sterling drops the ladder on him yet again.]

Jeff: Yeah, go Lance!!

Tim: He's really handy with that ladder...

[Lance picks up the ladder again as Blackjack rolls onto his back. Sterling tries to slam the ladder onto Blackjack, but Blackjack gets his feet up and kicks the ladder right back into Sterling's face. Sterling drops to the mat, as Blackjack stands up. Blackjack kicks the ladder out of the way and picks up Sterling. He applies a front chancery and drops Sterling to the mat with a snap suplex. He lifts up Sterling again and quickly forces Sterling back down to the mat HARD with a gutwrench powerbomb. Blackjack goes for the ladder and sets it up near the ropes.]

Jeff: Damn...

Tim: Blackjack is really coming back in this one!!

[Blackjack walks over to Sterling, but Sterling low blows him AGAIN. Blackjack falls backwards as Sterling gets up. Sterling grabs Blackjack and irish whips him to the ropes. Blackjack bounces off and Sterling connects with a boot. He grabs Blackjack under the arm, lifts him up, and slams hi mto the mat with a modified olympic slam.]

Jeff: BOX OFFICE SMASH!!

Tim: JESUS... settle down Jeff...

[Sterling gets up and drops a couple elbows on Blackjack. He, then, picks up Blackjack and lifts him into a tombstone piledriver. Blackjack reverses it backwards, but Lance reverses it again. He tries to steady Blackjack, but Blackjack reverses AGAIN... only to have the move reversed YET AGAIN... Finally, Sterling drops down to the mat; impacting Blackjack's head to the mat with a tombstone piledriver.]

Tim: What athleticism from both men!!

[Sterling positions Blackjack perpendicular to the ladder, and steps out onto the apron. He climbs up the ropes, and then onto the ladder. He climbs all the way to the 2nd-to-top rung, when Blackjack gets to his feet.]

Tim: Uh-oh...

Jeff: GET DOWN LANCE!! FOR GOD'S SAKE, GET DOWN!!

[Blackjack smiles a little, as Sterling looks down and sees him. Blackjack grabs the ladder by each side and tips it backwards.]

Tim: INCOMING!!

[The ladder tips over the top rope of the ring, as Sterling flies off of it to the outside, and THROUGH THE ANNOUNCE TABLE!! Tim and Jeff fall off their chairs and to the ground as well. Nothing is heard in the arena, except for a HUGE "HO-LY-SHIT, HO-LY-SHIT" chant. Blackjack rolls to the outside, folds up the ladder, and slides it back into the ring. He starts to set up the ladder in the center of the ring, as Tim and JEff get their headsets back on.]

Tim: ... Hello? Hello!?! Can you hear me...

Jeff: I can't speak for the fans, but I can hear you...

Tim: Alright... did you see that!?!

Jeff: Hell yes... I was part of that, Blackjack is one sadistic son of a bitch...

Tim: Yeah, well, Lance Sterling is in a bad way now; with Blackjack scaling the ladder.

[Blackjack starts to scale the ladder, as Sterling just now begins stirring on the outside. Blackjack is about halfway up the ladder, as Sterling crawls and reaches the apron of the ring.]

Jeff: GO STERLING!! GET UP THERE!! PLEASE GOD, PLEEEEEASSEEEE!!

[Sterling grabs the top of the apron and somehow pulls himself into the ring. Blackjack is now almost at the top of the ladder now. Sterling uses the ropes to pull himself up, as Blackjack gets his fingertips on one of the belts. Sterling finally reaches his feet and dashes straight at the ladder. In a last ditch effort, Sterling gives the ladder a leaping high knee; tipping it over, and sending Blackjack throat-first across the top rope. Both men drop to the ground; motionless.]

Jeff: YES.... YES!!

Tim: Man, this one is a classic!!

[Both men are down for a good minute or so, before Blackjack finally starts to crawl over to Sterling. He grabs Sterling by the hair and both men begin getting to their feet. When they rise, Sterling slaps Blackjack's arms away, lifts him up, and slams him down with a powerslam. Sterling bounces right up to his feet, and falls into a corner. He stays there for about 15 seconds or so, before running out to Blackjack and dropping a knee across his face.]

Tim: Oh no... not the face!!

[Sterling gets up and grabs the ladder. He opens it up and places it OVER the motionless body of Blackjack. Sterling, then, begins climbing on side. He slowly climbs up, as Blackjack starts to stir below him. At about the halfway point, Blackjack gets up and grabs the ladder by the other side. Instead of tipping it over, Blackjack decides to climb up himself.]

Jeff: OH SHIT!! Hurry up Lance, get those belts...

[Sterling reaches the top of the ladder first, but Blackjack is not far behind. The two both stand on the 2nd-to-top rung of the ladder and begin exchanging punches back and forth and back and forth.]

Tim: This can't be good...

[Blackjack gains control, and puts Sterling in suplex position. The fans start to stir as Blackjack AMAZINGLY lifts up Sterling vertical. He holds him there for a couple seconds, and then switches it into a powerslam, drooping Sterling all the way from the top of the ladder down to the mat. CRASH!!! The impact alone sends the ladder flying into the corner, and starts a HUGE "H-W-F, H-W-F" chant throughout the arena.]

Jeff: Oh... ...My... ...GOD!!

Tim: Blackjack Slam from the HEAVENS!!

[Blackjack is the first up, as he grabs the ladder and stands it up again. Blackjack looks up at the belts, and then back at Sterling. He decides to walk over to the fallen Sterling and pick him up. Blackjack throws the lifeless Sterling back into the corner and starts chopping the skin off of his chest. "WHOOOOO" sounds the crowd after every chop. Blackjack lays in a couple boots and then whips Sterling to the other side. Sterling flies into the corner, and Blackjack follows him in. Sterling somehow gets his foot up, however, and Blackjack's face collides right with the sole of the boot.]

Tim: That's GOTTA hurt...

[Sterling, still a little groggy, takes Blackjack down with a strong knee to his gut. He grabs Blackjack and drags him over to the ladder. Sterling rams Blackjack's head into the side rung of the ladder several times before dropping it to the ground. Sterling locks Blackjack in a modified headlock/sleeperhold, then quickly drops to one knee in a facebuster. Blackjack's head jerks backwards and Sterling takes the opportunity to nail a short-arm clothesline. Sterling showboats by raising both arms in the air and then lifts Blackjack back to his feet. Sterling sets him up in a front facelock and lifts him for a suplex. Blackjack quickly stuns Lance with an elbow to the gut, then stiffly slaps him in the face. Sterling returns the slap and follows with a front kick. He locks Blackjack in another facelock and lifts him straight up in the air, before setting him up for a Falcon Arrow. In a lightning-quick maneuver Sterling drops backwards, slamming Blackjack's head against the ladder in an inverted brainbuster.]

Jeff: Holy Shit!! Blackjack is DEAD!!

[Sterling lifts a groggy Blackjack to his feet. He swiftly kicks him and applies an inverted facelock. Sterling slowly lifts Blackjack into the air until he's completely vertical. He turns Blackjack slightly, and with tremendous force drops down, slamming Blackjack's back to the canvas.]

Jeff [marking out]: DIRECTOR'S CUT!!

Tim: Sterling hit the Director's Cut! Its over! Its over!

[Sterling gets to his feet after executing the Director's Cut. He looks at Blackjack and then back towards the ladder. He flashes a devilish smile and pulls the now semi-concious Blackjack up by his hair. Sterling drags him over towards the fallen ladder. He tucks Blackjack's head under his right arm and throws Blackjack's left arm over his shoulder. Sterling hooks Blackjack's leg and looks towards the crowd before lifting Blackjack up into the air and then falling backwards, slamming Blackjack's head, neck and back area against the ladder.]

Tim: I don't believe it! The Blackjack Plex! Sterling...used the Blackjack Plex..on..BLACKJACK!

Jeff: Whoooo he is the greatest! Go for the gold Lance! Go for the gold!

[Sterling now grabs the ladder and, walking to the center of the ring, starts to set it up. He looks back at Blackjack, who is just about out cold. As he finishes setting up the ladder, Sterling begins to climb. Unopposed by Blackjack, he climbs higher and higher, and higher until he stands at the top rung. He reaches upwards, his fingers just barely touching the twin golden belts hanging high above the ring. Sterling strains a little bit more, now climbing to the very top of the ladder. His hand brushes against the gold of the actual HWF title, as he begins to unhook both it and his own belt. A huge cheer erupts from the crowd as Sterling unhooks both belts and leaps off the ladder, holding a belt in each hand. The bell rings as Sterling lands on the ring, sore but victorious.]

Tim: NEW CHAMPION!! NEW CHAMPION! He's done it!!

[Jeff is too busy marking out to bother to say any commentary. Sterling raises both titles high in the air as we get the official decision.]

Nigel Rolston: Here is your winner, and UNDISPUTED Hardcore Wrestling Federation Champion...LAAAANCE...STERLING!!

[As Sterling celebrates, the camera switches to the entryway, where the man from before, Sterling's "old friend", is walking slowly to the ring. He has a glad look on his face. As he gets to the ring, Sterling greets him with a handshake. Both of them look at Blackjack, who is just getting to his feet. Sterling looks at his friend, and then looks towards Blackjack. A second later both him and his friend jump on Blackjack, stomping at him and driving him from the ring. Sterling's friend kicks Blackjack in the ribs, sending him to the outside. Sterling and his friend give each other a high five, and Sterling goes so far as to spit in Blackjack's direction.]

Tim: This is uncalled for! Sterling's already won the title; dammit this is uncalled for!

Jeff: Be quiet. He won the match, he's the new champion, he can do whatever the hell he wants!!

Tim: No he can't dammit! Sterling is not god! Him and his...friend, or whoever this man is, have no right to brutalize Blackjack like this!

[Sterling's friend starts to go outside to continue his assault on Blackjack, but Sterling looks at him and he remains in the ring. He grabs Sterling's hand and raises it in victory as "The Memory Remains" blasts over the speakers. The crowd gives the two men a mixed reaction, now sure how to react after the assault on Blackjack. Sterling climbs to the top tunbuckle and holds both title belts victoriously in the air. He looks down in Blackjack's direction as he silently says "Its over Blackjack...its fucking over. And I..am the greatest!" as Suicide fades to black and the HWF logo appears on the screen.]