 [February 11th, 2001 | 7:00 p.m.] [The preview channel counts down the final few seconds before HWF's Holiday Hangover 3 - exclusively on Pay-Per-View... The shot fades to black. The official FBI copy-write infringement information comes up on the screen in large, bolded white letters and slowly… very slowly… fades out into a plain red HWF logo on a black background. The HWF logo fades out into the black screen, and nothing seems to happen for a few moments. Vaguely in the background, the opening riff of “Awake” by Godsmack begins to play, and the black screen fades into a dark evening sky. The moon is just peering over the horizon, contrasting the setting sun on the opposite edge of the world. The camera switches is angle form the sky to show its surroundings – a loading zone for ships. Large wooden docks stick out into the slightly murky water like sore thumbs, as do the oversized, rusting cargo ships docked in the loading zone. Large, scruffy looking men with partial, unshaven beards are busy arguing with each other from across a few large wooden crates, pointing to the ships, then at each other, then at the crates… at everything with which they can find fault. Panning away from the argument to the left of the screen, the camera settles on the smaller, yet still imposing form of Spike – decked out in the same black, Italian suit with a red, French-collared shirt. His appearance is ragged, unkempt, but the clothes are freshly pressed and cleaned. It is his eyes that give him this strange look. He sits alone on top of a shipping crate, letting one leg hang off the edge and one bent at the knee, sticking him to the top of the crate. His arms drape down, supporting himself on top of the crate. He glares at the camera darkly, as if he was reliving some sickening moment in his life. He turns to his left, showing Chris Thrilla leaned up against the same shipping crate, fiddling with his silver dragon pendant. Chris Styles is leaning up against the same crate in a dark green suit with a full collared dress shirt, two buttons from the top opened. The shot widens, taking in all three members of the Street Syndicate, and then showing two other people huddled close together against another shipping crate – Chris Davison, in his normal khaki cargos, tight blue shirt and red baseball cap – and Tempest, in a long black coat with a fluffy, sparkling purple collar – buttoned up to the shoulders, showing her slender neck and face. Spike flicks something off of his shoulder and takes a quick glance out at the sea.] Spike: Biloxi, Mississippi. Coastal breezes… warm, shining sun in the day – cool, calm nights made brighter by the pale moon… sandy beaches… [Spike throws his hand backwards, motioning to the camera to focus behind him. Far in the background is a large beachside casino. An aqua colored spotlight is illuminating the front of the casino as limousines and shiny sports cars pull up to the entrances. The shot stays on the casino as Spike speaks.] Spike: …and also… greed. [The camera returns its focus to Spike as he continues. He hops off the crate and begins to walk towards the camera slowly. He swings his arms lightly as he walks over the sand of the beach.] Spike: It’s a virus. A plague. It’s a sexually transmitted disease. Everyone gets it, though… it’s not selective. Whether you’re black, white, yellow, red or brown… it still infects you. It nothing anyone can stop from happening… people can’t control it, it’s too unstable and dangerous. It can surface at any time with a large group… but with a single individual, it’s different. While society as a whole cannot control this infection, a single person separated can. Everyone has control of greed… just not when they believe two heads are better than one. Greed strikes even harder then. We feel it coming… we know what it’ll do to us – there’s no Jekyl and Hyde complex – we now what we’re doing, and we enjoy the feeling. Greed is just an excuse we make up to mask our own flaws. Our own raw impulses. Ourselves.
][Wait… another minute, [Spike walks by the camera, which does not follow him past. Instead, it turns to Chris Thrilla, who has lost interest in his dragon pendant and is now looking straight into the camera, still leaning up against the crate.] Thrilla: Greed is one of the many hidden impulses we get in life… there are literally too many to count and name individually, but what the hell… I’ll give you a few other examples; honor, respect, blatant arrogance… Thrilla: *snorts contemptuously* The Wrecking Crew and The Warriors of the Rising Sun. Here are two teams that personify those attributes… it’s only fitting that they’re pitted against each other. The stereotypical East, versus the stereotypical West in a part hardcore war, part traditional bout. It’s a tossup between the two… what ever happens in this match is of course, only for those last few bits and pieces of table scraps left over from the higher ranks… you see… both teams are using this match as an excuse to show their “respect” for the other team. Fear does strange things to people, doesn’t it? They don’t know whether they’re afraid of each other… their fans… themselves… their current position in the HWF rankings… All they know, is that fear will drive them tonight… fear will drive them insane. Fear will take over, just like greed will. Figure that one out on your own. [Thrilla turns to Chris Styles, who is lazily staring up at the sky, scratching his chin lightly. He glances towards the camera without any visible emotion and simply sighs, staring at the camera.] Styles: An empty fury swallows many people… depression covers them… and it seems as though they’re trapped. They’re stuck in an enigma, wrapped in a puzzle, and lost in a maze. They’re completely separated from normal human existence – which is why they have this need to create their own little heavens and hells, so they can live by their own rules. Which… is absolutely pointless when you’re living in a world run by already set rules and standards. This is what I still do not understand about this “Rage” character… interrupting me is good and all… but claiming to have some sort of deep resentment is preposterous. I mean… just look at you! You aren’t just another victim of the ill-begotten worries… the world has swallowed you whole, and spit you out, mangled and destroyed. You’re nothing special… you have the same affliction as the rest of us do – greed and fear drives you as it does me… as it does everybody nowadays… We’ll see how far this fear can drive you until it hits the brakes… and you stop dead in your tracks along with it.
][Take another second, [Tempest walks beside the pier, looking out over the silver water. Her hair blows in the sea breeze, and the tails of her long black coat flap backwards and she walks forwards. The camera is looking at her slightly from behind, but angled in a way that her face is visible.] Tempest: It’s a funny thing; how risk and reward show up in the same place at the same time and can be so entwined. Here on the edge of the Gulf of Mexico, we have playground for those looking to get lucky. But at any time a hurricane can spring up and scatter all their toys and all their hopes to the wind. One tempest can leave all this in ruins, and the greed that brought them here will become its own reward. [She stops in her tracks, hugging her arms around her waist. Her hair flows backwards in the breeze again.] Tempest: But what is greed? Where does the desire to achieve end and become an obsession with success? Is it the feeling of having done something good or the trappings that attract one to it? In the business of wrestling, a break is hard to come by. One has to have the right skills, the right timing… everything must be perfect. And then, what happens when there simply isn’t enough room for everyone to move forward? Night Stalker and myself have our own little shared history, though not a long one. On any given day one of us might be better than the other. On any given day, we could give the fans a show they’d never forget. But, luck hasn’t been on our side. We’re new here. The gold is in the hands of the few and the powerful, leaving spare change for us. And so on of us must step aside. And it will take a particularly violent tempest to upset the order of things. [The camera pans away from Tempest, leaving her staring off in the distance.] [Meanwhile, Chris Thrilla has walked away from his leaning post – the shipping crate. He casually walks past the camera to stand next to Spike, who is looking out across the shimmering sea with his back to the camera. “Awake” becomes slightly more audible, since there is no speech or sound of any type anywhere.]
][… for you I’m awake… [Spike still has his back turned on the camera and his head tilts upwards towards the slowly rising moon. He stands there, wind blowing his jacket and pants, staring up at the darkening sky.] Spike: Things have become easier to understand… they’ve become quite obvious to anyone who pays attention to them. Those who have nothing to dream about… awaken. I have finally lived out my dream, and succeeded in reaching my goal – so now… I am awake, and I see so much more… I see pain, I see hate… I see many other things, too… my mind is no longer clouded with delusions that I could never hope to make reality, simply because my distorted dreams have been made clear to me, and… I no longer have dreams. My dreams ARE REALITY! [He spins around swiftly, facing the camera, flashing a menacing smile. The moon is just behind his head… it encases his torso like a halo, shining pale white. The top of his body is hazy and muddled – silhouetted in the moonlight.] Spike: Reality is what I base my life on… if it’s unattainable, I don’t go after it. If it is… well… I’m a champion now, aren’t I? [Spike steps out of the moon’s halo, walking behind Thrilla. The camera tilts over to Thrilla, who is now silhouetted by the moon. As Spike exits the screen, Chris turns to the camera as Spike did.] Thrilla: The Watchmen… Vic Williams and The Lost Soul. HWF veterans… but who gives a fuck? Trey and Sterling are veterans of the HWF as well – and look what happened to them. They were champions… and now what are they? Another number in the victories column for Teen Angst, that’s what. The Watchmen intrigue me, slightly… although neither men have EVER been associated with Teen Angst… they feel that they know us like the backs of their hands. You two watch… you see everything that runs by your feet in your own little minds… pathetic, really. You think that your word is law… if you say it is so, then it is. You’re exactly like every other team in the HWF… you take a look around, and you laugh at what there is to see. You laugh your asses off. But… you’re not going to laugh tonight. You’re going to watch, since that’s all I’ve seen you really do, anyway. You can continue to watch all throughout the match… but let me explain a little something to you… if this is what you’re expecting to do, the only thing you’ll be watching is us, walking away from your limp bodies with the tag titles still around our waists. [Thrilla returns to the crate he was leaned up against, leaving the halo of the moon. He hops up onto the top of the crate, and sits down. His legs dangle off the edge of the crate, but his feet - firmly pressed up against the side of the crate - prevents them from swinging. He folds his hands in his lap, glaring down at the sand. He peers up at the camera with his eyes barely open.] Thrilla: Vic, a man who I do not care for, nor will I ever. To be honest with you, I probably won't even realize you exist tonight. But Lost Soul...
][Hear the silence about to break… [Thrilla pauses and looks to the sky. Tempest’s small frame shows up in the shot suddenly, and she puts her hand on his knee. She looks up at Thirlla with concern in her eyes.] Tempest: Chris… are you all right? [Thrilla’s eyes return to normal as he glances down at Tempest’s hand on his knee. He pats her hand with his own.] Thrilla: I will be...and Lost Soul, you will help me, whether you like it or not. Teen Angst and The Watchmen are like opposite sides of an old coin. The Watchmen take pleasure in the emotional pain of others, they enjoy it, their main goal in life is the suffering of others...On the other side of the coin, the newly crowned champions in their first title defense, but it is much, much more than just that. This side of the coin is scarred across the heart, and it will be for the rest of its existence, and possibly for eons after that. My loss...our loss...Crystal...she is the main goal here...not the titles, not the match, not the stipulations...but the memory of a tragedy and an attempt to put it to rest, whether artificially or otherwise... [She removes her hand from Thrilla’s knee, satisfied that he will contain himself. She remains beside Thrilla, but the focus is no longer on the disturbed teen. Tempest smiles brightly as she realizes the spotlight is now on her…] Tempest: And last… well… not really… but still far from least, we come to two men, each legends, each with a score to settle. They have so much in common that they can't stand each other, and that's what infuriates them the most. One is Michael Trey - A star of Thrillfest, but not quite as much of a star as its eventual champion… [Tempest winks and grins mischievously to the camera and is about to continue, when Thrilla pipes in – interrupting the created atmosphere… and also taking focus off of Tempest.] Thrilla: Thrillfest, what the hell is that? [Tempest gives Thrilla a very cut-eye like glare and punches his leg.] Thrilla: Ow… Hell, it doesn't matter. The other man is Gavin Coens, a man who is everyone's prodigal son. His tag partner leaves him, his stable mates turn their backs on him, he is left alone, and we ALL know what Gavin Coens does when he's alone… [Tempest purses her lips angrily and frowns at Thrilla.] Tempest: Well, whatever he may or may not do, the two clash over more than just bragging rights. Who will move up and move on? Who will fall by the wayside? And with so much at stake and so much talent in one ring, can it be anything but an amazing battle? Thrilla: Amazing battle? How can it be but anything less? You don't see the Canadian Killah anywhere in that mix, nor do you see Spike! Michael Trey's claim to fame was Spike mistaking him for a certain jobber and Gavin Coens' claim to fame was having his ass handed to him on a silver platter by the current tag team champions. Coens is a bastard, whose arrogance blinds him from his true self, a big fat whiny homo. I expect this to be a mediocre match at best, simply because I feel that these two amateurs will take a great match stipulation and deteriorate it into a simple marshmallow roast…you like marshmallows, don't you Tempest? [Thrilla returns Tempest’s glare with a devilish smile. She frowns even harder, stressing the muscles in her forehead. She looks away from Thrilla with an exasperated sigh escaping her lips and clears her throat.] Tempest: Yes, well let's see, speaking of arrogance, we don't need a demo on that now - And I bet these two fine athletes will put on a fabulous show, and you better watch out Thrilla, they may decide to put you in the pit for saying that. Trey has lots of claims to fame, but pushing me to my limits in Thrillfest was one of them. [Thrilla flings his arms into the air, over-acting like a soap-star…] Thrilla: Oh come on Tempest! Trey is a pushover! Fighting Trey is like fighting a retarded turtle. It's slow, it's dumb, and it'll probably hide in it's own shell so much it risks suffocating itself. Trey's a fag, Coens is a fag, 'nuff said. Tempest: Ah, so beating him was no accomplishment? [She flashes another mischievous smile to the camera at the mention of Trey and Sterling’s loss to Teen Angst last week.] Thrilla: Hell no! C'mon Tempy! You of all people should know that Trey isn't a challenge, he's just an annoyance. I can understand that you don't know much of Coens, but take it from me, he's gay. Tempest: *shakes her head* Can't you come up with anthing stronger than that? No wait, don't answer. But hey, let's see if you think you think my beating Trey wasn't an accomplishment after I give you a sample… [Tempest coils her legs beneath her and leaps up onto the crate. She rams into Thrilla hard, knocking him off the top of the crate to the sand below. Thrilla spits sand out of his teeth and looks up at Tempest, perched on the crate, in shock.] Thrilla: Hey, Davison won't know about this right? [Tempest jumps down and slaps him in a headlock.] Thrilla: Holy shit you're frisky! [Tempest rolls her eyes and begins to pull Thrilla towards the water.] Tempest: I'll show ya frisky…
][I’m alive… [A small splash is heard off in the distance as Tempest hauls Thrilla into the water with the headlock – too bad you can’t see it happening…] [The camera turns to Spike, who is now walking back towards the small group of people. He walks slowly, showing that he does not wish to be part of their collective friendship just yet… not this early at night, anyway. He jams his hands inside his pant-pockets, hunching his shoulders as he takes his steps forwards. The camera makes a close up of him with a profile shot – allowing the moon to be seen in the background. The wind blows at his pants, sending the hems flapping in the breeze. The ending of “Awake’ fades into another song… one similar to it, but having it’s own slight differences. The drum beat of Finger Eleven’s “Drag You Down” plays, and shortly after is the heavier guitar.]
][ It’s biting… Spike: Only two things really stay in my mind… One… brutality… and gold. Phoenix and JD Brady… Phoenix has taken himself past the known rules of tradition… past any logical way of thinking… and for what?… yes, that’s right… that golden aura he wears with passion. The belt around his waist… such a thing can make you do crazy things, but it doesn’t allow someone to be insane when they are not. I’ve said before… everyone is insane… they just mask it behind their own little quirks and traits. Insanity is NOT one of those flaws in life, however… it does hide what we truly feel, and who we really THINK we are… but in reality *exhales… short chuckle*… what we show when we are insane, is who we TRULY are… everything else is a sugar coated topping. [Spike waves over at his companions further down the beach, but does not make his way to join them. He smiles and then shrugs with a bemused look on his face. The camera stays on him and the moon, but now, the moon has gotten closer to him. Its pale beams dance across his face gently, sending ominous shadows through his hair.]
][The perfect sound, Spike: JD Brady – another person who has taken the limits and broken through them without looking back. He’s been reborn, however… he’s no longer the same person he was at Holy Night… he no longer has the same outlook on life. This has changed about him… but his passion has not. Change comes to everyONE, but not to everyTHING… a person can be changed, yes… but his dreams are still the same. He may awaken sometime soon… but for now, Brady continues to live in a dream world, clouded by longing and desire… [The camera pivots around to face him. The moon leaves the shot as the camera turns, but one side of Spike is still illuminated by the light of the moon. One side of him is in light… the other is in darkness… like a two-sided coin - made of the same substance, but different on the outside. The same throughout… but, different as times force him to turn over and show his different sides… In the distance is a small fire, with a large group of people dancing and laughing around it. The camera angles off to the right, trapping him between the gray haze and the bright yellow flame…] Spike: The second thing that remains on my mind… is none other than the final bout of the night. Lance Sterling and J. Simon Rykopathe. Tempers have flared between the two superstars many a time… but now, their emotions must either be set aside and forgotten, or kept close at hand… and focused. If they remain the way they have been… Sterling, being called a paper champion… and Rykopathe, being called nothing but a fake idol… this will not end… one way or the other – something drastic will happen tonight… for which side… well… that is still yet to be seen. [Spike pauses, then continues...] Spike: Both of these men have tasted gold. They know the feeling of the belt. They have been revered and put up on pedestals… crowned and glorified… but... they have also been spat on and laughed at. They have been defeated and humiliated… these two have not endured a single thing that which a corpse has endured on a battlefield… but of course… this is no small battle. This is a war – and just like a war… one side MUST fall to the stronger.
][…someone has to pull me under, [The camera slowly zooms in on Spike’s face, weary and strained from travel and lack of sleep. His eyes are slightly bloodshot, but either than that… he seems to hold the same gleam in his eyes as he has always had since he entered the HWF…]
A change in life,
All throughout days,
Underlying emotions,
Everyone holds a secret,
Life will go on,
THIS entry will be fresh… [Spike picks up his pace, speeding past the camera. It does not follow him back to his fellow HWF stars… it turns up to the moon, fading out with “Drag You Down” continuing to play. With that, the screen does an exploding-type effect as they cut to an inside shot of the Mississippi Coast Coliseum in Biloxi, Mississippi. About 10,000 HWF fans are on their feet and screaming at the top of their lungs. In the center of the ring, decked out in black business suits, are Tim Miller and Jeff Robinson. "One Step Closer" by Linkin Park slowly fades to nothing as the fans begin chanting "H-W-F, H-W-F"... The crowd eventually dies down, and Tim Miller slowly raises the microphone to his mouth.] Tim: Hello HWF fans... and welcome to HOLIDAY HANGOVER THREE!! [HUGE pop for the name of the show. Another "H-W-F, H-W-F" chant rings out.] Tim: We have one of the HWF's biggest cards in history for you tonight, and we'll be with you throughout... I'm Tim Miller... [Jeff snatches the mic from Tim's hand, as the crowd begins to cheer in anticipation.] Jeff: And I... am the one and only Jeff... "So many women, so little time, so forget about the nicknames, an forget about the rhymes - because instead of writing lyrics, and instead of playing games, I'd rather go down on your woman, and make her scream my name!!" .... [The crowd begins to cheer and laugh, Tim almost looks like he's gonna laugh.] Jeff: ...Robinson!! [The crowd gives Jeff a standing ovation. Tim claps himself, and then grabs the mic back from Jeff.] Tim: As I said folks, we have a HUGE card for you tonight, so let's not waste anytime and get right to it. This is Hardcore Wrestling... this is the HWF!! [Another HUGE pop from the fans, as Tim and Jeff exit the ring and take their seats at ringside. The camera cuts back to the ring, where HWF technicians work quickly to replace two sets of ropes with barbed-wire. After only a minute or so, they have the barbed-wire set up.] Jeff: Look at those guys go!! [The crew just about have the turnbuckles fully wrapped in barb, and they exit the ring for the back. Just then, "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 Jin Kobayashi, emerges from the back. Jin 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 Jin 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. Jin enters the ring in the chaos and stands motionless in the center. Tatsumi climbs to the top of another turnbuckle and blows his black mist into the air just as Jin breaks into a martial arts display. Tatsumi hops down from the turnbuckle as Jin finishes his display and bows to the crowd. Tatsumi tosses his Sickle into their corner and hops around, loosening up. Meanwhile Jin kneels in the teams corner and blesses himself. Jin finishes his prayer and rises to his feet. Jin looks to Tatsumi and the two men nod to each other as they await their opponents.] Tim: This Warriors of the Rising Sun team looks very promising... Jeff: I'm still mad about that whole Pearl Harbor thing... Tim: WHAT!?! [The lights in the stadium dim as the camera focuses on the HWF-tron. On the massive screen stretches a gigantic brickwall, with nothing more than a low rumbling sound emitting from the PA system. The rumbling gets louder and louder as it becomes clear it's a loud engine on full throttle. The roar reaches its apex has the brickwall explodes, and a large, Ford Duelly Pickup blasts through as the lights flash wildly to the opening riff of "Lakini's Juice". From the entrance jumps Wildcat and Rickey Williams, jawing at each other and the audience. Both men start walking down the rampway, slide into the ring, and mount the nearest two turnbuckles. Wildcat cusses wildly at the fans, while Big Texas pumps his arms in the air. Both men dismount, and wait for the bell.] Tim: This will no doubt be a close match tonight, let's get it started...
 [The bell sounds, as Rickey and Jin both leave ringside; leaving Tatsumi and Billy circling each other in the ring. Billy attempts to grapple, but Tatsumi kicks him in the gut. He slaps a leg over his head for a fameasser, but billy backflips him over onto his feet. Billy goes for a clothesline, but Tatsumi ducks and bounces off the ropes. Billy tries for a tiltawhirl slam, but Tatsumi slips out again and lands on his feet. Tatsumi goes for a sidekick, but Billy ducks. He then tries a leg sweep, but Billy hops over his leg. Billy plants a kick in Tatsumi's midsection, and immediately whips him to the turnbuckle. Tatsumi runs up the barbed-wire turnbuckle like walking on air. He hops off backwards, spins a little, and catches Billy in a electrifying tornado DDT.] Tim: Oh, WHAT A MOVE!! [Billy clutches his head and quickly rolls to his corner, where he tags in Rickey Williams. Tatsumi slides over to his corner and tags in Jin. Jin hops in the ring and runs at Rickey. Rickey picks him up for a spinebuster, but Jin plants him with a tornado DDT of his own. Jin quickly picks up Rickey and attempts to whip him into the barbed-wire ropes; but Rickey reverses it. Jin flies into the barbs hard, but immediately pulls himself out of it. As he turns around, Rickey plants boot right in his gut. Jin doubles over, and Rickey plants another. He attempts a third, but this time, Jin catches his foot. Jin gives the "not this time" hand signal, but is suddenly hits with a boot as the big men amazingly performs a enziguri. The crowd pops bigtime for this show of agility.] Jeff: Now that is something you don't see everyday!! Tim: That's 270 pounds behind that Enziguri!! That's amazing!! [Rickey manhandles Jin to his feet and locks him in suplex position. He lifts him up vertical, but Jin floats over onto his feet.] Tim: These Warriors are quote-unquote 'quicker than a hiccup'. [Jin bounces back of a pair of ropes, and dropkicks Rickey in the knee. Rickey drops to a knee, but doesn't fall. Jin kips up to his feet, and delivers a STIFF roundhouse kick to the back of Rickey's head. This sends Rickey into the ground hard. Billy suddenly comes into the ring, but Jin hits him with a spin kick to the abdomen; sending Billy flying back into a set of barbed-wire ropes. Amazingly, Billy's force snaps one side of the barbed-wire ropes and he flies all the way down to the arena floor.] Jeff: YES!! And the violence begins!! Tim: We're getting started early here tonight... [Jin looks down at Billy in amazement, and then smirks a little. As he turns back around, he is hit with a standing side kick from Rickey. Jin drops hard but is immediately pulled back up to his feet. Rickey backs him up to a set of ropes and whips him to the other side. Jin bounces off some ropes and comes back. Rickey attempts a clothesline, but Jin catches his arm and drives him down to the ground with a uranage.] Tim: What a Dragon Throw by Jin Kobayashi. Jeff: It's been all Warriors in the early-going of this one... [Jin positions Rickey near the ropes and gives a nod to Tatsumi. Tatsumi grabs hold of the ropes as Jin bounces off the opposite set. Tatsumi flips over with a senton, as Jin crushes Rickey's head with a front flip legdrop. The crowd gasps, as Tatsumi rolls through and hits a standing moonsault. Rickey immediately rolls to the outside and stumbles over to where Billy is, as the crowd gives the Warriors a round of applause.] Tim: There it was!! Rolling Thunder 2K1!! Jeff: These Japs are violent!! Tim: Jeff!! Jeff: What!?! [Billy and Rickey remain by the apron without any ropes or barbed-wire, as Tatsumi and Jin remain in the ring facing them. Suddenly, both Warriors run at the Crew. Jin attempts a spinning plancha, but he's caught by Rickey Williams and fallaway slam'ed on the outside. Tatsumi tries a front flip, but is caught in powerbomb position and powerbomb'ed HARD on the outside, over the barbed-wire. The fans pop bigtime, as both Williams collapse on the outside.] Jeff: Yeah!! That's what you get for Pearl Harbor!! Tim: Alright, can somebody cut his mic now!?! [Rickey is the first one to his feet, and he throws Tatsumi back into the ring. Rickey climbs in himself, and then tags in Billy; who is just now getting to the apron. Jin remains on the outside as the Williams start to stomp on Tatsumi. Rickey picks up Tatsumi and both men lock on a frotn chancery. Suddenly, they both drop to the mat; impacting Tatsumi's head hard with a double DDT.] Jeff: Double DDT from the Texans... [Billy instinctively grabs Tatsumi's legs, and starts trying to lock on a sharpshooter, as Rickey starts to scale the turnbuckle.] Tim: It looks like Billy is trying for '8 Seconds'... but what is Rickey doing!?! Jeff: I think they're gonna try a Double Deuce!! [Sure enough, Billy finally turns Tatsumi over just as Rickey reaches the top. Rickey does a little taunt and then dives off. In mid air, Jin suddenly comes into the shot and tackles Billy; forcing all three men away from the flying Rickey. Rickey hits the mat hard with the phantom legdrop, and immediately clutches his tailbone. Billy tries to fight his way up, but Jin forces him into a standing head scissors. Tatsumi rolls onto the apron, as Jin crosses Billy's arms under his body and lifts him up. Billy stalls at the peak of the powerbomb, and then gets slammed down VERY HARD with a modified Pyramid Driver. Jin keeps the arms hooked, and stays with it for pin.] Tim: He hit it!! He hit it!! Jeff: What did he hit!?! Tim: The Darkside Bomb!! [One... ...Two... ...THRE...Rickey breaks up the pin.] Tim: Oh, that was too close for comfort... [Tatsumi remains on the apron, as Rickey struggles to lift up Jin into a standing head scissors of his own. Rickey forces Jin into a double underhook, and plants him down with a high angle pedigree. The crowd gasps in unison on impact.] Jeff: STOP.... DROP.... SHUT 'EM DOWN OPEN UP SHOP!! Tim: Okay, I think we get the ide- Jeff: OH-OH... NO-OH... THAT'S HOW ROUGHRIDER'S ROLL!! Tim: For God's sake, Jeff... [Rickey acts as if he's going for a pin, but instead rolls to the outside of the ring. He digs underneath the apron and, of course, pulls out a table. He slides it into the ring, and it's recieved by the now-rising Billy. Billy sets it up on one side of the ring, as Rickey digs for another one, and throws that one in. Billy sets it up near a corner, and then awaits for Rickey to enter.] Tim: Oh Lord... what could these guys be planning!?! [Rickey grabs Jin and throws him onto the table. Billy, then, grabs Tatsumi and throws him onto the other table. Both Williams get onto the tables themselves and lift the Warriors to their feet. Suddenly, and without warning, Tatsumi hits Billy with the black mist!!] Tim: BLACK MIST!! BLACK MIST!! [The fans pop bigtime for this, as Tatsumi slaps on a standing head scissors. Tatsumi double underhooks Billy's arms as, Rickey double underhook's Jin. Tatsumi lifts up Billy vertical and then slams him down through the table with a double underhook x-factor; at the same time that Rickey forces Jin through the table with a double arm DDT!!] Jeff: OH MY GOD!! Tim: Tiger Driver 2000, along with a Double Arm DDT!! Jeff: This match is getting out of hand!! [Neither Rickey or Tatsumi go for the pin. Instead, both men slide out to the apron and start to scale opposite, and barbed-wire wrapped, turnbuckles. Tatsumi reaches the top and stares down at Billy's body; which is lying in a mess of broken wood.] Tim: Could be Flight of the Tiger!! [Rickey reaches the top himself, and looks down at Jin; who's completely out of it.] Jeff: Could be that Big Texan Legdrop that he attempted earlier!! [Just as the announcers predicted, both men fly off the top rope - Tatsumi attempting a 450 splash, and Rickey attempting a legdrop. Both men drop onto their respective opponents VERY HARD, as the entire arena seems to shake on impact.] Tim: HOLY SHIT!! Jeff: That was one loud bang, partner!! [Rickey hooks one of Jin's legs, and Tatsumi stays on top of Billy, as the ref attempts to count both men's shoulders down.] Tim: Double pin here... [One... ....Two.... .....THREE!!!] Jeff: Wait, he kicked out!! [Sure enough, Billy kicked out before the three count, but Jin did not. The bell sounds, as "Lakini's Juice" kicks in once again. The ref runs over and raises Rickey's arm, as Tatsumi looks around bewildered. Billy rolls over to where Rickey is, as Tatsumi helps Jin up to his feet.] Tim: And the Wreckin' Crew takes it, in a great opening match!! Jeff: What a way to start of Holiday Hangover 3!! Tim: Alright fans, next up is th- Jeff: Hold on just one second, Tim... I don't think this one is over... [The camera cuts back to the ring, where all four men are now standing. The music has faded out, and the fans watching in anticipation as both teams stand in fighting formation. Suddenly, Jin and Tatsumi each give a bow to the Wreckin' Crew. The crwod begins clapping for the show of respect, as the Crew smiles in approval. The Warriors exit the ring, through a set of ropes, and begin to the back.] Tim: Both these teams are really class acts... Jeff: Yeah, and they kick ass... Class Acts that Kick Ass!! Tim: Hey, that rhymed!! [Cut to backstage, where a black limo pulls up.] Tim: Who this be? Jeff: Probably someone important... no one you'd know. [The driver gets out and opens the door for... Michael Trey. Mikey gets out and thanks the driver, shaking his hand and walking towards the arena. On his way, he bumps into a fan.] Fan: Whoa, watch it... hey, Michael Trey! Michael: Hello... Mr...? Fan: I'm Adam... I'm a huge fan! One of the ring guys is my uncle, so he got me backstage. I'm like your biggest fan! I've watched you since like Yes 2 Karnage. What ever happened to DRE? Will you win tonight? Can I get an autograph? You know I liked you even when you were hurt and stuff, this is so awesome! Tim: Ah.. those rabid HWF fans.... Michael: Well... thanks very much. Catch me backstage and I'll autograph something for ya, no problem. I gotta talk to the brass about my stipulations for today though, alright. Adam: Yeah, those are awesome! Besides the first three, you gonna add any more? Michael: Well, actually... I have one more for Gavin. Adam: What's that? Michael: My fourth challenge? WIN. Adam: Huh? Michael: If I'm as bad as he says and if he's as good as he thinks, then he should be able to complete that, easy enough anyway. Don't you think? Adam: Sure, sure. Hey, where's Claire? Michael: Oh... she just had some planning to do for the wedding. She said she'd get here in time for my match. It just keeps her so busy, planning the whole ceremony and stuff... Adam: Ah, I see.... hey, I thought you had to go? Michael: Yeah. Later man. Adam: Later! [Michael shakes the guy's hand and opens the door, disappearing into the arena building. The camera cuts back to a shot of Tempest in her locker room, she bent forwards stretching before her match. A loud cheer can be heard throughout the arena. In the background Gavin enters the room and takes a long look at Tempest as she stretches. A look of satisfaction comes over his face. She notices someone is behind her and stands up to see who it is. She takes a look at Gavin with a "What the hell were you just checking out" look, gavin begins to talk...] Gavin: Hi Tempest, I'm deeply sorry to interrupt your stretches but you wouldn't happen to have seen Drake-O tonight? Have you? [Tempest looks at Gavin doubtfully and says...] Tempest: Drake, huh? Yeah I think I saw him down the hall ealier. He was muttering something like "That damn arrogant bitch so&so who seems to think he's main event material. Any idea who he could be talking about? [She looks up at him curiously, as a confused look comes over Gavin. He simply nods his head in thanks and slowly backs out of the room. As he makes his way out of the room you can hear him whisper something under his breathe.] Gavin: She wants me. [The camera cuts back to the ring.] Jeff: Interesting.... VERY interesting... Tim: What!?! Jeff: Um... nothing. Tim: Whatever... Well, it looks like the ringcrew is ready for our Barbed-Wire Deathmatch. [The camera cuts to the ring. All four sets of ropes are now replaced with barbed-wire. Instead of turnbuckles wrapped in barbed-wire, there are now wooden boards with barbed-wire covering them leaned up against each set. A ref slides into the ring, as the camera cuts to the entrance way.] Jeff: Look at all that Barb!! ["Living in Chaos" by Offspring hit the speakers of the HWF-tron, an entrance music unfamiliar to the HWF, or any wrestling federation for that matter.] Tim: What the hell? That isn’t the entrance music of either of our competitors. Jeff: Hopefully it is someone with some actual skill so we don’t have to sit through this next slap fest between Rage and Styles. Tim: Umm... the match is a Barbed-wire Deathmatch, Jeff. Meaning that there is barbed-wire involved. Ahh... forget it. ["Living in Chaos" continues to play but no one has emerged from the curtains yet and the crowd is becoming restless. After another ten seconds or so Chris Styles emerges, carrying his trademark barbed-wire wrapped hockey stick in his right hand.] Jeff: Shit, it IS Styles. Well this match had a chance to get better. Tim: Er... here is our first competitor folks, Chris Styles, with his new entrance music and his usual barbed wire wrapped hockey stick. Jeff: Why couldn’t he of brought something to end this quick like some C4 or something. I’d rather watch two grandpas battle it out with their walkers than these two so called "wrestlers." [Styles stops at the top of the ramp, raising the hockey stick high into the air as yellow and silver pyro techniques explode all around him, leaving a fog like smoke at the top of the ramp. As the smoke dies down Styles makes his way down the ramp towards the ring, slapping the occasional lucky fans hand along the way. As Styles arrives at the ring he throws the hockey stick over the barbed wire ropes into the rings and then carefully rolls under the bottom rope.] Tim: It looks like Styles really wants to extract some violence on Rage... Jeff: I dunno what to think of this Rage character. I like his actions, but he seems a little to freaky for Mr. Robinson. I me- [Jeff is interrupted by...]
[With that, Green Jelly's "Orange Krunch" hits the speakers. After a moment of letting the music blast, Rage walks out of the back, head facing down. He walks to the edge of the ramp, and just stands there with his head down and his hair hanging over his face, letting the music play. Suddenly, he snaps his head up and looks directly at the ring, and starts walking towards it with a purpose. . . never taking his eyes off the ring. When he gets to the ring, Rage stops at ringside and just stares into it. After a brief moment, Rage slowly slides in underneath the bottom barbed-wire rope. Rage then stands up, and starts slowly walking around it, taking notice of everything around him. Styles immediately dashes at Rage; who clotheslines him right down to the mat. The bells sounds, as Rage lifts up Chris Styles.]
 Tim: This one is sure to be a heated battle... [Rage brings Styles to his feet and attempts an irish whip. Styles reverses it, and plants a knee in Rage's stomach. He grabs his head for a DDT, but Rage squirms out. Rage grabs an arm again, and attempts another whip into the wire. Styles reverses yet again, plants a knee yet again, and this time DDT's Rage right down to the mat. The crowd pops a little.] Jeff: It looks like the second time's a charm for Intensity... [Styles quickly brings Rage to his feet and scoop slams him right back down to the mat. He backs to the corner a bit, runs out and drops a leg across Rage's face. He stands up, drops an elbow, and then goes for the cover.] [One... ...Two... KICKOUT!!] Tim: Oh... that's not gonna get it done. Jeff: Rage looks to be pretty tough... this being his first commercial federation... [Styles lifts up Rage and hits him with a stiff right hand. Rage's head flies back a little, but he doesn't budge for the most part. Styles gives Rage a weird look, and then fires another right hand. Rage gets hit square on the jaw again, but Rage once again doesn't budge. Styles hits him once more, but Rage looks unstoppable. Styles says 'Fuck it!' and then backs up. He runs at Rage for a stiff clothesline, but Rage blocks Styles' arm with is own - and applies a standing Iron Claw on Styles' head.] Jeff: IRON CLAW!! IRON CLAW!! Tim: In my three years in the HWF, I've never seen anyone use an Iron Claw!! Jeff: Well, now you have... slapnuts!! [Styles frantically tries to break the hold, but Rage isn't letting go. The ref checks for a submission, but it doesn't look like Styles will give in. Styles slowly backs towards the corner, and puts his back foot on the barbed-wire board. He tires to use leverage to free himself but just can't.] Jeff: Man, Rage has that hold on tight!! [Styles starts punching Rage in the stomach with both arms, with actually staggers Rage a little. After about 10 seconds of stiff body shots, Rage finally breaks the hold. He does so, however, by grabbing behind Styles and throwing him down to the mat with a STIFF face-sirt STO. The crowd gasps as Rage goes for a cover on the lifeless Styles.] Tim: This one could be over!! [One... ...Two... ....THR... KICKOUT!!] Jeff: Whew... kinda close. [Rage manhandles Styles up to his feet and slaps on a standing head scissors, while facing the barbed-wire board propped up in the corner. Rage grabs Styles by the arms and attempts a backslide. Instead of actually going for the pin, however, Rage lifts up Styles for crucifix powerbomb. Styles amazingly backflips out of the move, onto his feet. He, then, lifts up Rage for a scoop slam, spins around, and slams Rage hard THROUGH the barbed-wire board with a Michinoku Driver. The crowd cheers loudly, as Styles collapses backwards.] Jeff: HOLY SHIT!! Tim: He reversed the Rage Bomb into a Michinoku Driver, through the barbed-wire board!! Jeff: I think they saw that... slappy! Tim: HEY!! [Styles is suddenly hit with a second wind, as he slides outside of the ring to grab some toys. He grabs a couple chairs from ringside and throws them into the ring. The referee clears away the board from the corner, as Styles slides into the ring. Styles grabs one of the chairs and waits for Rage to get up. When he does, Styles charges and blasts him with the steel chair. Rage staggers backwards, but doesn't fall down. Styles winds up again and blasts him with the chair. Once again, Rage will not fall down. Styles now drops the chair, and irish whips Rage HARD to the barbed-wire. Rage tries to stop himself, but cannot, and flies stomach-first into the barbed-wire ropes. Rage's body violently rejects back into the ring, with the body rope still hooked onto his pants. The camera gets a shot of his chest, where blood oozes out of his chest.] Jeff: OH!! Sweet, sweet blood!! Tim: I guess Rage isn't as indestructable as I thought... [Styles sets up both chairs in the center of the ring. He walks over to a corner, and pulls out the barbed-wire board. He sets it up across the seats of the chairs, much like a make-shift table with barbed-wire glues to the top. Styles picks up the bloodied Rage and brings him over to the table. Styles lifts Rage up for a tombstone, but Rage flows through into a tombstone of his own. Rage drops him onto his feet, and hits him hard with a forearm. Styles staggers around, as Rage lifts him up onto his shoulders. Rage walks towards another set of barbed-wire ropes and drops Styles across throat-first with an Electirc Chair Drop.] Tim & Jeff: OUCH!! [Styles grabs his throat, but stays on his feet. Rage grabs Styles in a double chickenwing, and throws him through the make-shift barbed-wire table with a release Tiger Suplex. The table shatters, as the barbed-wire hooks onto Styles's skin. Both men bleed from the upperbody now, as Rage rolls over Styles for the cover. The ref dodges the barbed-wire and attempts to make the count.] Tim: That Release Tiger Suplex could do it!! [One... ...Two... ...THRE...KICKOUT!!] Jeff: Oh man, Chris Styles is really putting his heart into this one... He doesn't seem to be using his brains though. [Rage pounds his fist on the ground in anger, as he stands up and walks to the barbed-wire ropes, near the corner. He actually grabs the barbed-wire with his bare hands and starts to twists and tear it off. The fans, along with the announcers, gasp as Rage pulls the barbed-wire free. Blood trickles down from his hands as he walks to his left and pulls the other end of the barbed-wire out from that turnbuckle.] Jeff: That... was... awesome!! Tim: That was masochistic!! [Rage wraps the wire around his fists, so he has a strand about 8 inches long in his fists. Styles slowly rises to his feet, as Rage sneaks up behind him and begins choking him with the barbed-wire.] Tim: C'MON!! THAT'S ENOUGH!! [Rage pulls the barbed-wire around Styles' throat tight, and then turns back to back with him. Rage simply leans forward, and Styles begins getting hung out to dry on Rage's back. The barbs digs into Styles' skin as you see blood start to trickle down from his neck.] Tim: GET IN THERE AND STOP THIS REF!! Jeff: NO, NO... LET IT CONTINUE!! [The ref simply watches on, as Rage begins leaning forward even more. Styles kicks his legs to try and free himself, but he can't. Just as Styles looks to be passing out, Rage lets go and lets his motionless body drops to the mat. The crowd claps a little, for letting him go, as Rage slides to the outside in search of something. He reaches under the ring and brings out a table. He slides the table into the ring, as Styles tries to gain his breath. Rage stares at Styles with a smile on his face, and then slides in himself.] Tim: Rage is a sick, sick man... [Rage grabs the table and sets it up perpendicular to the corner. He then attempts to lift up Styles, but Styles low blows him. Styles stands up and locks on a front chancery. He runs towards the barbed-wire ropes, runs up them, and drops Rage HARD to the mat with a beautiful tornado DDT, right in the center of the ring.] Tim: What a Tornado DDT!! [Styles is quick to his feet. He lifts up Rage and throws him onto the table. Rage lays there motionless, as Styles walks to the corner and grabs another barbed-wire board. Styles has a look of pure hatred on his face, as he lays the board BARBED-WIRE DOWN on top of Rage. He then gets onto the apron, and begins scaling to the top rope.] Tim: Oh my god... What could Styles be thinking!?! Jeff: I don't know, but this could be the highlight of my night!! [Styles finally scales the wire, and steadies himself on the corner post. Rage is still stuck between the table and the barbed-wire board; as Styles leaps from the corner. Styles soars above the ring and comes down with a frogsplash RIGHT ONTO THE BARBED-WIRE BOARD AND RAGE. The table amazingly doesn't break, as both men fall to the ground next to it.] Tim: JESUS CHRIST!! ["HO-LY-SHIT, HO-LY-SHIT"] Jeff: That is one strong table!! [Both men lay motionless on the ground for a good half-minute. Finally, and slowly, both men begin to rise to their feet. The entire front of Rage's body is STILL stuck to the barbed-wire board. He attempts to push the board off of him, but it's stuck to his skin!!] Tim: Oh... ..m-my... G-G-GOD!! Jeff: That is one of the sickest things I've ever seen!! [Styles gives a little smile at the 'walking barbed-wire board' and then readies himself. Rage turns towards Styles and Styles delivers a standing side kick to the board; sending Rage back into the corner, where the board finally shatters upon impact.] Jeff: OH LORD!! ["HO-LY-SHIT, HO-LY-SHIT"] [Styles quickly pulls Rage from the corner, and goes for the cover.] Tim: It MUST be over!! [One... ...Two... ....THRE... KICKOUT!!] Tim: Holy Shit!! How did Rage kickout!?! Jeff: I have no clue... [Styles buries his face in his hands and then pounds his fists on the ground. He violently grabs the lifeless Rage by the hair, and manhandles him over to the table. He throws him onto the table, just as he had before, and begins scaling the turnbuckles as if for a moonsault. As soon as Styles reaches the top rope, Rage hops off the table and crotches him on the barbed-wire.] Jeff: That's GOTTA hurt!! Tim: What resiliancy by Rage!! [Rage gathers himself, and then hooks Styles in an inverted fireman's carry. Rage, then, yanks Styles from the barbed-wire and stands next to the table. He gains his footing and then drops to the ground, planting Styles THROUGH the table with a STIFF inverted death valley driver. Styles rolls over and Rage covers him.] Tim: Rage calls that 'Death on Impact'!! [One... ...Two..... .....THREE!!] Jeff: Holy shit... Rage won!! [The bell sounds as "Orange Krunch" kicks on again.] Tim: I could have sworn that Styles had that match won!! Jeff: I guess it just wasn't to be... [The ref helps Rage to the outside, where Rage slowly but surely makes his way to the back; holding his abdomen. In the ring, Styles slowly makes it to his feet as HWF technicians begin setting up the ring for the next match.] Tim: And up next.... Jeff: The push match featuring everyone's favorite PUSH over....TEMPEST!!! Tim: Jeff you hobag....you just try and do what she does.... Jeff: Anyway, during the break we have been joined by Tempest's little partner.....Chris Davison, how do you do? Davison: Well, it's great to be here. But why do you have to insult my little Tempest like that? Jeff: Well, this is the HWF - HARDCORE Wrestling Federation - this ain't no place for chicks to be wresting. I wouldn't care if she came out with you in a tight lycra g-string and nothing else...but wrestling? phht Davison: Typical view of such an ignorant person like yourself. Tim: Anyway, this is the innagral "Push Match" set with a scaffold held up by ladders in opposite corners. BUT, the scaffold is only there for fun....as this is a Pin or Submission matchup, not a "Chuck 'em off" matchup. [The sound of wind is heard followed by the sound of a guitar. The lights dim to a dull red color, the color of dried blood. A chill runs through crowd as a single flame appears in the center of the stage. As the song picks up, the flame grows and grows. Suddenly as the song picks up fully, the stage explodes in gray and black pyrotechnics. As the smoke clears, the flame remains on the stage as Night Stalker, clad in a black trenchcoat and black sunglasses, walks out. He walks to the flame and blows it out then walks down the ramp. Stalker climbs the ring steps and enters the ring. He walks to the far ropes, and stares down over at Chris Davison's presence at ringside.] Davison: Look man, I'm not here for any trouble...I'm just to support my Tempest, and call a damn good match, ok? [Night Stalker doesn't seem to buy into it, and even challanges Davison to get into the ring....untill...The low electronic hum that begins the Lo-Fideltiy 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 walking across the top of it like a tight rope. She grins and leaps, sliding down the side rails and bounces off the bottom rail into a backward triple axel, and lands on her feet, already walking to the ring. She smiles and holds up her arms to the ooos and aahs of the crowd and theycheer wildly as the spotlights gleam over the silver glitter mixed in with the vivid purple vinyl of her body suit. She grins, waving and slapping hands as she trots to the ring. She runs up the steps and leaps onto the ladder, climbing it quickly. She skips across the scaffold and waves to the crowd.] Jeff: Well....there she is....looking mighty fine.... Davison: Agreed....GO TEMPEST GO! Jeff: ....and might small and fragile and like a ho. A yummy ho, but a ho. Tim: Chris, don't mind him, he's a dumb fuck...who loves Lance Sterling's porno's. [Ding Ding!]
 Tim: And we're under way here folks....in what sets to be the Starting Block of these two potential superstars. [While perched on the top, Stalker starts to climb up the opposite ladder untill he reaches the top. Tempest watches as Stalker advances toward her, backing up toward the end of the scaffold. Then she grits her teeth and charges, hammering at his mid section. Stalker backs up, but looks more angry than injured.] Jeff: [snorts] Oh that's gonna work. Try biting his ankles. Tim: Hey, ya never know, she might. [Stalker grabs Tempest by the throat and lifts her, dangling her over the edge of the scaffold as she kicks and struggles.] Davison: Oh, fuck... I dunno if I can stand sitting still with that happening. [He glares at her and lets go then turns and walks to the end of the scaffold, but Tempest has caught the edge of the scaffold. As Stalker begins to climb down Tempest pulls herself up and dangles by her knees from the scaffold.] Davison: [Sigh - of relief] [She puts her finger to her lips and shushes the crowd as Stalker climbs down and looks around for her. He strides to the middle of the ring, where she should have fallen and looks around confused.] Jeff: Hey! Lookup! C'mon, she's right there! Stalker... Tim: Put a sock in it Jeff, I'm sure he'll figure it out in a second. Davison: A second too late maybe... [As Stalker turns around, Tempest flips down from the scaffold and catches him in a headscissors. Assisted by the height of the move, she drops to the mat and whips the much larger Stalker over in a hurricanrana.] Davison: YEAH! [As he staggers up, Tempest climbs the ladder and leaps off the scaffold into a 450 splash, but Stalker catches her and sweeps her around into a scoop slam. She hits the mat hard, but rolls out of the way of the stomping kick he attempts. She slips under the rungs of the ladder, forcing Stalker to go around the long way and when he gets there, she springs up onto the nearby ropes and leaps back into a flying somersault neckbreaker.] Tim: Now Jeffrey, you must admit that was an absolute fantabulous move their by the young Tempest Davison, right? Davison: Jeff? Jeff: Well....it was nice....[grumbles]...like a cock up my ass.... Davison: Well Jeff, then you must of loved it alot... Tim & Chris: [laugh] [Tempest uses her lightning speed to quickly dash up the ladder, and hide there up the top...] Jeff: COMMON YOU GUTLESS COWARD, GET DOWN AND FIGHT LIKE A MAN! Tim: Gesus Geff.....what do you expect her to do to Stalker? Powerbomb him through a table? You idiot...she's gotta rely on her ringsmart and speed to win this one. [Stalker is back up again, quickly, and he seems quite royally pissed. He looks under the scaffold, but nothing, untill Tempest swings into view and catches Night Stalker around the neck with a head scissors. She then tries to hurricanrana him over again, but Stalker holds his ground. Tempest ends up with her head near the ground, with her legs still wrapped up around his head. She then uses her gut muscles and pulls her self back up untill the hurricanrana potentil position to attempt another hurricanrana.....but Stalker just reaches straight up and locks on a double choke hold....and runs...before Choke-Bombing her into the mat with a thud...the crowd gasp as Tempest's petit frame bounces sickeningly off the mat.] Davison: [Looks away...] I'm not going to interfere.... Jeff: You should, or Stalker's gunna rape your bitch in more ways then one! Davison: Shut the fuck up Jeff....just SHUT the fuck up before I put you through this table, I"m not in the mood.... Jeff: Gee, which side of the bed did you crawl out from this morning? [Stalker then picks up Tempest, and tosses her into one of the corners where there isn't a ladder. He rears back, and goes for a head-decapitatingly violent clothesline, but Tempest scurries under his legs, and drop kicks him in the butt...sending him into the corner. Tempest then darts across to the opposite corner, and runs...completeing a gymnastic series of tumbles and twists reminiscant to Chyna but with more athleticism....before flying at Stalker with a flying back-elbow to finish the combo off....BUT...Stalker just grabs her, holding her up in a stalling back-suplex hold....before swinging her around into a deadly Back Drop Powerbomb (Blue Thunder).] Tim: Oooh, poor Tempest could be busted in half... Jeff: What you gunna do about it Christopher? Davison: Look chump, I promised I wouldn't alter the outcome of this match...and I'm not going to...but, if Tim gives me a dollar, I'll alter your face..... [Tempest looks in great agony as she clutches her back and neck, as Stalker walks over to the ropes, and laughs at Davison...before pointing at Tempest and givin' the throat slit, before lauging at Davison....again.] Davison: If he does..... [Stalker then picks up the helpless Tempest, before dropping to his knees, ending up around the same height.....from his knee position he puts tempest down in an awkward looking Gut-Wrench, before he lifts her up and powerbombs her FROM HIS KNEES...Tempest holds her neck again and the crowd is still silent and in shock.] Jeff: Well, it's good that Stalker isn't Sexist...we don't need Sexism in America.... Davison: Look Jeff, could you wrestle a match as good as she could? If so, I'm sure you'd be a big star in this federation by now. Jeff: Well, uh... Tim: Lost for words Jeff? Try... "I'm a idiot" It works for people like you. [Stalker, looking quite board...signals for the end....he then throws Tempest into a front face lock...] Tim: [gulp] Light.....of.....Dawn....on......Tempest? [Tempest squirms in the vise like facelock of Stalker as suddenly someone runs down the ramp.] Tim: What the? Oh no, not again! Jeff: WooHoo! Yeah, it's Silky come to save the damsel on distress! Tim: Oh puhleeze... Davison: Man, I don't like that guy. Tim: I can understand your view. Davison: And you weren't even there for most of the reason why, though I guess it was on TV. [Silky slides into the ring and before Stalker can turn around, clocks him with a steel chair. Stalker falls over to one side, and Tempest picks herself up looking confused Then she spies Silky and stalks over with a furious expression. She shoves Silky and yells at him.] Jeff: Will ya lookit at that? Just like a woman... Tim: Oh give it a rest, she doesn't need his help and has every right to be furious. Davison: And I have my right, too... gentlemen, it was fun for a moment, and now I have to right a wrong. [Tempest yells at Silky as he smiles and tries to talk to her and cajole her. He tries to slip his arms around her shoulders and she shoves him again as Stalker looks up to see them. Davison then looks at it all as he has slid into the ring from his commentary position.] Jeff: Oh no, didn't he say he wasn't getting involved? Tim: Yes, but he's justified in doing this. [Davison reaches the two as Tempest shoves Silky against the ropes, still yelling at him. He's laughing and holds out his arms in a gesture of innocence, but then Davison shoves him back and follows up with an immediate lariat that knocks Silky over the top. Silky gets up and staggers back as Davison launches over the ropes in a plancha. The two begin to brawl back and forth with a series of hard rights battling into the backstage area.] Jeff: Thank god that's over...I couldn't put up with a punk like him any longer!! Tim: Yeah, because he's too smart to let your petty insults get to him... Jeff: You do... Tim: .... [Attention returns to the ring where Tempest has crouched into a ready stance, almost like a runner's, but she makes no move toward Night Stalker. He eyes her suspiciously and speaks, then the two appear to be talking for a moment.] Tempest: (mic barely picking up her words): No. I didn't ask for that son of a bitch to come down here. You get up when you're ready to continue this. Jeff: What the Hell is wrong with her?! Jesus H.... I'm telling ya, this is why she doesn't belong in there. Tim: Jeff, you're just so wrong sometimes. Night Stalker may claim to be an opportunist, but Tempest isn't. [Tempest grabs the chair that Silky threw in and unfolds it, then sits down facing Stalker. He gets up slowly, shaking his head, but growls something at Tempest and charges her. She leaps from the chair and runs the ropes, then leaps into an Asai moonsault bodyblock.] Tim: See, even tho she waited for him to reagin it because of Silkies stupid interference....Stalker still tried to wait till she wasn't ready, how unfair... [The crowd roars as the both get back up staring at each other. Stalker makes a grab for her, but she uses his arm to swing up and around his back. She grabs his head and plunges downward in a strange reverse DDT. He rolls up he lunges forward and whips her into the ropes, she rebounds and he scoops her up in a waistlock, then tosses her over his shoulder, turns and drops her throat across the ropes.] Jeff: Oh! Devastating hotshot. And I think she's out of boyfriends to help her out. Tim: As if... [Tempest rises slowly and staggers to the corner opposite Stalker as he smirks and makes a 'come on' gesture. She catches her breath and runs at him, leaping into a handspring. Stalker shakes his head as she uses the chair for a vaulting horse, but she hangs on to the chair and it folds as she comes back up. Stalker's eyes go wide an instant before she smashes the chair into his skull with a resounding thud.] Tim: OH MY HOLY TESTICLES!!! That has to be one of the most awesome moves I have ever seen in my life!! What acrobatism by Tempest...could you do that Jeff? Jeff: Look man, shut up. [Stalker stumbles back again as Tempest uses what seems to be "Jackie Chan" like circus weapon use...and unfolds it, before folding it back up and handing it to Stalker...] Jeff: Why how genirous, now he can knock your head of....stupid woman... [Stalker grabs it with confusion in his eye, before Tempest leaps up and drop kicks it, sending Stalker sprawling to the floor. However the chair flies out of his hands, and Tempest grabs....she walks back a bit, and sets the chair up...she then backs up to the far ropes. Stalker slowly gets up to his feet, as Tempest takes off. She runs and plants off the chair, she corckscrews off the chair, and lands on the top rope - ass first - but faceing the ring, she then springs up, and lands between her legs, before springin up again and landing on her feet, before flying to the outside and dropkicking Stalker to the ground to huge pops from the audience.] Tim: Who needs the fucking circus? [Tempest then gets to her feet, pumping up the crowd, before she ellegantly slides back into the ring....she then waits...holding the top rope with one fist facing up and one faceing down showing that's she's gunna spring up into a half twist. As Stalker slowly rises, holding his head from smacking into the crowd barrier, Tempest springs up - doing a half twist - and landing on the top turnbuckle faceing the opposite way. Tempest then flies backwards with a Sky-High Moonsault.] Tim: My god, this girl is so athletic...no wonder she beat up 'ol Michael in Thrillfest. [However, Stalker has had enough of this bahul shahit, and he catches Tempest over the shoulder. He then runs at the turnbuckle post to try and ram her spine first into it. Tempest, slips out tho, but not in WWF - push them into the poll - fashion, but instead she slips foward and rolls down and between his legs, ending up behind him and THEM pushing him straight into the post. This causes his skull to DONG off the post, and he stumbles around before collapsing on his ass.] Jeff: DAMN YOU STALKER, whoa....that must of really hurt, he's gone down in a ton of bricks. [Sure enough Stalker is out on the ground, litereally looking knocked out. Tempest see's her fortune, and slides in, before scaling the ladder. When reaching the top of the ladder, she looks down at Stalker.....ALL THE WAY DOWN....probably 20-25 feet down. Tempest then turns around....] Tim: OH MY GOD....Don'T KILL YOUR SELF!! [Tempest then leaps backwards....preforming a half-twist moonsault/rounding splash.....then upon that...she rolls forward 360 degrees (Phoenix Splash) before rolling another 180 and landing back first on Stalker with a Senton Bomb and bouncing off joyfully with much gusto to the adoring fans, She does however, favor her back...for only the slightest second to not give any injury promise to Stalker. Stalker is grasping his ribs.....as Tempest tries to pick him up and roll him into the ring.] Tim: MOVE OF THE NIGHT! MOVE OF THE NIGHT!!! What the hell was that anyway? Jeff: Um, I think it was the Sasuke Bomb with an extra forward roll....ugh. [Then when all seems well, Stalker snaps, and grabs Tempest in a choke as the crowd gasp in unicen...but you can hear one guy in the Audience scream "GET THAT BITCH!!"] Jeff: He must be in my fanclub...! [Stalker then picks Tempest up, and un-characteristcly CHOKESLAM's Tempest onto the RING APRON! Causing her to plop off it and fall on the floor.] Tim: Eeeee. Chokeslam on the Apron, quite innovative...havn't seen Stalker use theChokeslam before. [Stalker then doesn't even grin, he just grabs Tempest and throws her into the ring, between the middle and bottom ropes...her limp body curls up in the fetal position as the crowd fears the worst. Stalker follows up by picking the fragile Tempest up and thowing her over into the overshoulder carry, from there he reaches up and locks on a 3/4 Facelock Piggyback (Stunner with Tempest lying on his back) He then climbs the ladder, awkwardly with Tempest limp on his back. The arduous task is complete when he finall gets to the top and dumps her on the cold hard scaffolding.] Jeff: YES YES YES! Tempest is going to fly tonight. Tim: This doesn't bode to well for the Violent Storm. [Stalker then picks up Tempest, as Camera's flash, he then grabs her by the waist and what is reminscant of HIC '95 he just TOSSES Tempest off the scaffold as the crowd "AHHHH". Tempest comes alive mid-air tho, and corckscrews out of her predicament, before landing with a plod on the top rope and sommersaulting to a 10 out of 10 landing. She then turns and bows to the announcers booth and with a "Ta Da!" her gymnast's landing is complete.] Tim: SUPERB! 10 out of 10! what a move! [Stalker looks down and just thumps himself in the head, untill Tempest darts up the ladder...and runs at Stalker...delivering a running dropkick, that staggers the bigger man...she then tries again, but he just swats her away. Tempest gets up in shock, but is quickly booted to the guts....Stalker then forces her in between his legs (JOY! - ed) before powerbombing her OFF THE FUCKING SCAFFOLD TO THE FLOOR BELOW....Tempest bounces off the mat.....and landing a second time...motionless...] Tim: [With real drastic emotion in his voice] CALL THE FUCKING PARAMEDICS...GET THE FUCKING EMT'S OUT HERE....STOP THE FUCKING MATCH...DO SOME FUCKING THING, HELP THIS POOR WOMAN! SHE DIDN'T DESERVES THIS SHIT! Jeff: Well, if she had just of stayed in my kitchen and MADE ME SOME PIE...it would of all been dandy..but noooooo...she had to come out here and throw herself off the scaffold! [Stalker still doesn't give that Night Stalker smirk to the audience, instead as the crowd boo him, he just nonchalantly drops down on his ass, and drops to the floor where Tempest is lying motionless. He then drops down for a cover.] [One...Two....Thre....] Jeff: WHAT THE FUCK?! SHE KICKED OUT? Tim: That's stupid, she needs attention...why is she fighting on? Jeff: She's stupid! [Stalker then shakes his head with a look of disbelief across his face. Stalker just grabs her then, and whips her to the ropes...where she slides to the outside to catch her breath. Stalker rolls out backwards, and walks right around the ring, to come closer to Tempest....where she slowly rolls back in the ring. She still is favoring her back, but it seems the powerbomb wasn't as devastating as it could of been.....she's probably learnt how to fall in Gymnastics or something. She then takes it to the turnbuckle, as Stalker re-enters the ring...Tempest leaps for a missile drop kick and connects, sending Stalker sprawling. She gets up and runs up one of the ladders, leaping into a corkscrew plancha, but Stalker catches her and flings her into the ladder holding up the scaffold. It begins to collapse over her. Then Stalker's face freezes in horror and he dives forward yanking her from beneath the falling scaffold.] Jeff: What in the Hell? What, is all that niceness crap contagious or something? [Tempest eyes Stalker strangely, but not near as strangely as his own expression.] Tim: Damn, that's what needs to be in sports these days....as much as you want to win, you can't let your opponent...or in this case an angel in human clothing...die by being crushed under a scaffold... Jeff: Ooooh, [Changes to Southpark Town] TIMMY! .... you like Tempest's Pie? [Tempest then runs at the shocked Stalker and hits a flying DDT on Stalker and he hits the mat near the fallen scaffolding, basically unphased. He grabs a pipe from it and swings low aiming for Tempest's legs. She jumps and he stands up and swings again, but she grabs the end and swings with it to the corner, where she digs in her heels and shoves the pole into his gut.] Tim: WOW, another nice move by Tempest tonight....this girl's on fiya! [The scaffolding has completely fallen from one side now, as it's only being supported by one ladder. Night Stalker picks himself up and stares at Tempest with a baleful, amused look as she charges him. He extends an arm to catch her but she ducks at the last minute and slides between his legs, rolling back up on the other side. As he wheels around, she grabs a nearby pipe and swings catching him in the lower part of the rib cage with a loud thwack. OOO! The crowd responds. Night Stalker then falls backwards at the base of where the scaffold was. Tempest then grabs the chair from earlier in the evening and places it by his head.] Jeff: Chairs and Tempest? Whoa...... [Tempest then runs up to the ladder that is standing....she then looks down at Stalker, and then down the scaffold which has made a "Slide" of sorts. She then springs up and slides down the wooden top of the fallen scaffold with a "WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE" then she connects with Stalkers head with a sliding dropkick onto the chair! The crowd respond nicely to this move as Tempest seems to be having fun again. She even does a little head bop to the dance music that is probably goin' on in her head.] Jeff: Actually, I must admit, I didn't expect this match to go on this long....both competitors have put on a good show... Tim: Good to hear you speak like that Jeff... Jeff: I wonder what drugs Stalker was on before the show? Tim: D'oh! [Tempest then struggles and picks up the much heavy ladder. She then manages to get it in the middle of the ring, where she tries with all her might to set it up. She does and is much pleased with her efforts. Tempest then starts climbing it as Stalker is getting to his feet.] Tim: OH MY GOD, what is going to happen here? [Stalker is fully up now, and Tempest isn't quite up the top. So she reaches to the top of the ladder, and uses it to spring up and leap frog over, she then floats down to Stalker and locks him in a front chancery and tries to drop Stalker straight down with a DDT. He doesn't come down but instead lifts her up, trying to get her into position for a powerbomb. She shoves off his shoulders and thrusts down, planting his face on the mat. He rises but she dropkicks him into one of the ladder that was set up, and it all comes crashing down with his arm crushed between the two halves. Tempest darts up the turnbuckles and leaps back toward him, into a high legdrop right across the ladder, slamming his arm between the metal. He howls, but then gets up, furious as Tempest rises slowly, the impact on her leg almost as bad. With his good arm, Stalker fumbles in his pockets for something and as Tempest rises, he lights off a chemical fireball.] Tim: WHAT THE HELL? He couldn't do it...no way, not to little Tempest.... Jeff: Wow, I wonder where he got that Chemical Fireball from....probably from the school of Lost Soul... [He wheels to throw it, but as he does, Tempest's eyes go wide and she leaps with a lightning fast spinning kick that shoves his hand and the fireball back into his face.] Jeff: Oh my God! You bastardess! [Stalker growls and staggers, his face mostly hidden by his hair, but what is seen is burnt. His eyes are clamped shut as he swipes at them, trying to clear them. Meanwhile Tempest sets up one of the ladders again with all her might and climbs to the top, 15 feet up. Now she looks pysically tired and mentally tired and in a hury to end the matchup. The crowd roars as she looks down and waits for Stalker to turn just so. Then she leaps in to a long arcing corkscrew and comes down with her leg around the back of Stalker's head. His body twists as his burned face smashes into the mat. Tempest gets up slowly and rolls him over for the pin.] [One....Two...] Crowd: THREEEEEE! [He twitches, but doesnt kick out.] [The ref raises her hand as Tempest drops down on her bum, arms behind her for a breather...you can see the pain in her eyes, and the tiredness across her face..she then stands and walks across and stands in each corner to wave at the crowd. She smiles, albeit painfully as she waves. Then she steps own and starts to walk toward Stalker, her hand out as if to shake hands with him. Then she spies the burned rag that was the material of the fireball.] Tim: I don't think she's very happy now... [Indeed! As after seeing this she withdraws her hand and exits to the back one happy girl, boppin' to the tunes of "Battle Flag".] Jeff: DAMNIT DAMNIT DAMNIT......I didn't want that to happen... well, SWF Title matchup is up next....AND SILKY IS IN IT!! Tim: But first, we have to go to this next clip was filmed earlier today in the backstage area... [The camera cuts to a shot of Gavin Coens waiting at a door marked "Johnny Drake". He's pacing impatiently and had a disgruntled look upon his face. Suddenly he turns towards the door and starts banging heavily against it. After the punching has no effect he begins to kick the door in. After a few seconds he gives up with a stern look on his face.] Gavin: I know you're in there Drake! You can't hide forever! We have to discuss my match tonight! It's a disgrace that I've been placed under Sterling and Rykopathe! I desrve to be the main eventer tonight! You can't deny it!! [Gavin sighs and gives up. He turns and walks down the hall away from Drake's office.] Tim: I guess Gavin has the idea that he belongs at the top of the card. Without Drake around, what's he gonna do? Jeff: I dunno... bu here comes The Silktacular!! Tim: You really love this guy too much, I think you like him more than Sterling! Jeff: No way! Sterling is the GREATEST! Tim: Well, anyway, as Jeffrey said before, the following match is the Smackdown Title matchup, 2 men who've held it countless times before in Michael Trey's own - Smackdown Wrestling Federation - versus Kyle Corman....who, well I dont' really know why he's in this freekin' matchup! Jeff: Well, he's been talking to Solomon a bit lately, I cant' remember why either....he's here for a reason anyway. Tim: Anyway, normal Smackdown Rules dont' apply for this belt, as it's gunna be a Triple Threat No DQ Best of 7 matchup... Jeff: There's gunna be atleast 7 pins tonight?! Tim: Actually, I think there's only going to be 7 pins, and whoever comes out with the most wins....or so I was told, I dunno... [Then the lights go out and an alarm goes off buzzing as the screen lights up with a giant "C" on the left side, then a "K" on the right, followed by the Canadian Mask in the middle, which then rips in half as an explosion of red and while fireworks shoot up in a wall formation along the entrance. "Starseed" by Our Lady Peace then echoes throughout the arena and the "Canadian Kid" Kyle Corman stands emerges from the sea of red and white. Dressed in his black trench coat, lugz boots, and black oakleys, CK begins to walk straight down the aisle to a large pop of the crowd chanting "CK"! Kyle slides under the ring ropes and goes to the far corner and climbs it raising one fist in the air, he jumps back down and with one twirling motion, removes the trench coat, and then places the shades with them.] Tim: Corman's in first, he doesn't really seem to be with it tho... Jeff: How can you tell? Tim: I dunno....just my opinion, cheezedick. Jeff: Pfft.... [Suddenly 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. ] Jeff:AAAAAAAAh! SILKY HAS ARRIVED! [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. 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 slide off his jacket, pausing only to cast a dismissive glance toward Kyle Corman.] Jeff: SILKY, SILKY BABY! Sign my new "Sir Pyscho Sexy" t-shirt!......soon to be in HWF Shopzone, only $12.99! Tim: [Laughs] Oh my man....oh my... Jeff: Anyway, we're just waiting for the paper-champ, Bile Solomon.... ["Scott farcas takes it on the chin" by Less than Jake erupts through the speakers, igniting a flame in the hearts of the fans in attendance as Kyle Solomon bursts out from the back in a charismatic run of a swagger. "The Mark" strikes "The Standing Think Pose" as fireworks go off in the background; and as the main riff of "Farcas" begins to strum away, The HWF's Model Employee races into the crowd with a shot of energy unmatched by anyone else in the stadium and begins to clap hands with and greet every fan that he can see as he gradually makes his way towards the ring. He jumps from the top of the rail, onto the apron where he tumbles into the ring, laying on his back for a few moments. Seconds after his body lays completely still, Solomon kips up to his feet, shouts to the fans, and stretches out his right hand. There's no DOUBT he's ready for this match.] Tim: And there he is! Solomon is ready....
 [Silky doesn't wait, he just barges past Corman, and tackles Solomon, down, delivering some punches to his face, before actually SPITTING in Solomon's face. This makes Solomon irate, as his little body uses all it's might to throw Silky right off, to pops from the crowd and a look of "...da fuck?" on Silk's face. Corman is just scratching his head, but then runs in to the side of Silky, and bounces off and around his leg in a spinning schoolboy type pin (Crash Holly pin on SD2 on PSX).] Tim: So early! [One....Two...Thre...] Jeff: Oooh, so close, damn you Corman! [Silky gets up, and looks pretty pissed at Corman. Solomon also doesn't really know what's going on, and everyone stands there looking at one another.] Jeff: Common you buch 'o Sissies! Tim: Silky's gunna hear about that one...he's gunna kick you in the ass man! [Silky then ignores Corman AGAIN, and runs straight at Solomon who acts as if he's looking at Corman but springs into action at the last second, drop-toe-holding Silky onto the bottom turnbuckle. Corman then comes from behind, and grabs Solomon - attempting a back suplex which Solomon flips out of. After Solomon lands, he dropkicks Corman in the back, sending Corman to the floor. Just as Solomon is about to exit to go after Solomon, Silky comes from behind and rolls Solomon up with a Rolling Clutch Pin.] [One....Two....] Tim: Still lots of stuff left in the Boss... [As Solomon gets up, he takes Silky -who is just getting up- down with a really low bulldog facecrusher as Corman slides in from behind and rolls Solomon up again.] Jeff: Not again... [One....Two....Three!] Tim: Oh my god! Corman stole a pin there.... [Solomon gets up, and turns to Corman, and looks pretty pissed.....as Corman and Solomon tie it up. Corman overpowers Solomon a puts him down in a headlock, as Solomon starts to push him into the ropes....causing the hold to break and Corman bouncing off the ropes. On his return, Solomon flapjacks him across the top rope, Corman grabbing his throat in agony, and rolling to the floor. Silky is already up, and awaiting Solomon to turn....before he targets his head with "The Show Stoppa" Sidekick, but Solomon knows Silky all too well, and ducks it before taking Silkies legs out from under him. Solomon then slides to the apron, before slingshotting in with a Eddy G rolling senton splash to the back of Silkies neck to the delight of the fans.] Tim: Solomon could have the next pin, it could be 1 apeice here soon... [Solomon slides on his back before standing up in a cool fashion, he goes over to Silky who's getting up, Silky then goes WHAM and thwaks Solomon's Peas and Carrots right up under his throat....Solomon eye's cross, as he chickenwalks it around the ring. Silky then runs and takes it to the turnbuckle. Solomon turns around, and Silky leaps, landing on Solomon's shoulders with such force, it causes Solomon to fall backwards.....Silky then uses the momentum to slide sideways, causing himself to deliver the "Gigalo Guillotine" to Solomon. Silky then drapes over him for a pin.] [One....... Tim: Kick out Solomon! ....two...Thre...] Jeff: DAMNIT! [Solomon kicks out, as on the outside Corman begins setting up a table....he then waits on the outside looking in on the action as Silky picks up Solomon, kicks him in the gut, then locks on a front chancre...before showing a "thumbs-up" sign with his left hand. He then tries to pull the "Final Curtain" on Solomon, but Solomon uses the implant momentum to flip up and over Silky, landing behind him. Solomon then locks on a reverse facelock/dragon sleeper before suplex Silky over backwards and on his guts....but seeing how Solomon has landed with a 3/4 Facelock on Silky, he continues the momentum and rolls backwards, putting Silky in a Dragon Sleeper Camel Clutch, but he continues and rears back, locking his legs around SIlkies and pulling Silky up into a dragon sleeper-mexican surfboard combination!!] Tim: Oh my god, this is the Solomon that WASN'T present against Ryko! What a move combination be Kyle! [Corman, then slides up on the apron and runs up the nearby Turnbuckle....Silky looks like his back and neck are going to snap, but he won't tap..atleast to Solomon...he would NEVER Tap to Solomon. Corman then points at a vulnerable Silky who has his ribs exposed to the heavens, and leaps off, in a swanton bomb, landing on Silky who basically gets broken in half....who then lands on Solomon and breaks him in half....] Jeff: Holy bejesus...what a counter by Corman...gotta give the little kid some props for that innovative move... [The crowd cheers no matter what happened at the exciting move, but then are quick to boo Corman for breaking up what possibily could of been one fall to Solomon. Corman is quick to put an arm over Silky for a pin...] [One...Two....Three!] Jeff: Oh my god, that Long Haired-176lbs-Canadian-No Good-Trailer Park Trash-Bastard got a pin over the SILKOMATIC! This is a disaster! Nooooooo... Tim: Care for a Kleenex? [Corman then jumps across and onto Solomon, going for another quick pin....] [One....Two....] Tim: Phew, kickout by Solomono... [Corman then takes it in turns kicking Solomon and Silky...he then turns and tell the crowd who are booing him to "Shut the hell up!". This gives Solomon and Silky a minute to stand. They look at each other, and with a glare later, they charge at Corman, delivering some team kicks to the guts. They then whip Corman into the ropes, and try a double clothesline on his return, but he ducks it....then on the way back, they step back in stereo and deliver the "Last Resort" on Corman.] Jeff: OH MY GOD! An EPWA moment on here.... Tim: For those that didn't know, that was the "Last Resort"....Kyle and Silky's old tag-team finisher in the EPWA. Yes, they did align after a mutual respect....and went under the name as "The Whole F*cking Show", even battling our President Johnny Drake and his partner Shane Blake. [Silky is quick to dive on an unconcious Corman, but Solomon is like "As if!" and pulls Silky off, and jumps down for the pin himself...] [One...Two...] [Silky pulls Solomon off, and jumps down for himself....] [One...Two...] [This time Solomon pulls Silky off, and goes for the cover....] [One...Two...] [Finally Silky pulls Solomon up, and yells some trash in his face...his lips easilly readable...] Silky: What the fuck are you doing Kyle? I had the fucking pin you piece of shit! Solomon: Silky, Silky, Silky...Calm down....'fore I put you RIGHT ON THE MARK... Silky: Is that so? Solomon: Sure is.... [Silky then turns away like HHH, before turning back to swing a brutal right hand at Solomon, but The Boss is ready for it, and blocks it, and punches SIlky in the face. Silky returns with his own punch, as they trade blows - back and forth for a LONG time - before Silky overpowers Solomon and backs him into the ropes before irish whipping him across to the far ropes. Solomon bounces off them and comes back, as Silky tries for a clothesline....Solomon ducks it...and hits the ropes, coming back, Silky tries again for a clothesline, but Solomon ducks it and picks up speed - hitting the far ropes and coming back before Silky can turn fully...this allows Solomon to crack Silky in the side of the head with a vicious Side Spinning Heel Kick.] Tim: Wow, Solomon is LIGHTNING quick, this boy Is LIGHTNING incarnate! [Solomon then grabs Silky and throws him to the outside, beside the table. And is about to follow him, but Corman sneaks up after regaining composure and grabs Solomon in a cobra-clutch before lifting him up and spinning him into a Uranage...or as he calls it the "Total Annihilation".] Tim: Damnit, Solomon woulda reversed that normally, but Corman had to come from behind! Jeff: Solomon's just weak! [Corman then climbs up to the turnbuckle....and turns around to face the crowd....] Tim: Oh my god, I think he's going to go for HIS "Last Resort".....that'd be kinda funny...doncha think? Jeff: Only because it'd be happening to Solomon. Tim: I think he's trying to send a sign to Solomon, because he didn't even go for the cover! [However, this proves to be a mistake, as Silky gets up besides Corman, and crotches him, before climbing the ropes. He then locks Corman up in a cobra clutch from the top turnbuckle, and suplexes him to the outside.] Jeff: RIGHT THROUGH THE FUCKING TABLE! SILKY IS THE MAN! Tim: Oh my...Silky landed harshly on his neck tho..he could be dead... Jeff: So could Corman, he hit the ground at alteast 89 degrees! Anyway, Corman got FOLDED up, folded up BAD! [Silky is actually up pretty quickly, and raises an arm to the crowd...who actually boos him...he then gives them a huge SIlky-Crotch Chop, before slowly rolling into the ring where a rejuvinated Solomon awaits....but Silky doesn't see him, and stands looking back at the broken table, and a motionless Corman....Kyle then back up to the furtherest ropes from Silky then runs at Palms...before leap-frogging up and over Silky, but grabbing his head on the way down, and spinning into the most brutalist Guillotine Rop Drop ever seen......which causes Silky to get hung up by his neck, and with so much force that he didn't spring back into the ring, but he fell over to the outside along with Solomon who landed perfectly on his feet.] Tim: NOW - NOW I say, SIlkies neck COULD be broken! Jeff: Man, that was brutal....I fear for Silky.... Tim: AS IF, Silky will be up...but what a nice move by Solomon. [Solomon then looks down at Silky, then across at Corman.....then back at Silky before walking across and grabbing Corman's dead ass and rolling him into the ring....Solomon then slides in after Corman. Silky manages to start crawling, and crawls towards the announce/timekeeper area.....as Kyle whips Corman into the ropes. Corman manages to run and not fall on his face, or hold his neck, and comes back at Kyle who attempts to deliver some Hot Sauce Heelkick to Corman, but Corman ducks, and keeps running as Solomon falls down. Corman then springs up onto the TOP rope, and flys backwars into a moonsault, but Kyle looks up and catches him.....just....and crashes backwards and puts him "Right on the MARK!"] Jeff: Damn that hobag Solomon! Tim: Right on the Mark can come from ANYWHERE! Anytime! That's just a moonsault reversal, Solomon is the complete package! [Solomon is quick to make a pin....] [One...Two....Three.] Tim: Finally, Solomon has a pin....with Corman in the lead with 2....then Solomon on 1....then Silky....on NONE! MMUAHAHAAHAH! Jeff: SHUDDUP! [Speaking of Silky, he has made it to the ring announcers desk and is up on his feet, he grabs the SWF TItle belt, and straps it wierdly....having the metal plate on his right shoulder, with the straps going diagonally down and under his left shoulder. He then slides in behind Solomon who is now getting up.] Tim: Damn this doesn't look good.... [Silky then gets down in a "The Rock waiting for a Rock Bottom" pose, as the crowd is booing, Solomon looks a bit awkward so he turns around to meet Silky who presses Solomon straight up in the air....then drops him down face first ONTO THE BELT ON HIS SHOULDER with a standing "SILK STREEM".] Jeff: MUAHAAHAHAHA! Suck on that Tim! Solomon just got his face DROVE into the belt he loves SO MUCH! He just got Silky Streemed....[hits a mock tone] RIGHT ON THE......[ends mock tone]......BELT! [Silky then stands up and bad mouths a fallen Solomon before hitting a cover himself.] [One....Two.....Three....!] Jeff: And what's that? One fall to Silky...WHO'S DA MAN!? Tim: Ali? Jeff: No you idiot, he's the Greatest! Tim: Gotcha there buddy.....I'm gunna tell Sterling. [Silky then dives from the body of Solomon over to Corman....for a cover...] [One...Two...Three!] Tim: WHAT THE HELL?! Jeff: Jesus....that RIght on the Mark must be a fucking powerfull move....if Corman STILL isn't up... Tim: Damn, two quick falls to Silky puts him right up next to Corman....only Two more falls are in the match folks... [Even Silky looks surprised at his shock pinfall. He then stands and looks at the two fallen opponents, but doesn't go for a pin, instead he takes off the SWF title belt....and lays it across the face of Corman....he then grabs Solomon....and picks him up into a Argentine Backbreaker Rack. He then stands OVER Corman.....and looks down at the belt.] Tim: Is he gunna drive Solomon into the belt? Jeff: Maybe...but with what move? Tim: I bet he's gunna use Solomon's own move....he's done that before! Jeff: So this could be a Kyle Driver! [Sure enough, Silky spins Kyle off his shoulder, and into a piledriver position, but Solomon rolls it up forwards.....into a HH pin.] [One...Two....KICKOUT!] Tim: I'd have to say that Solomon is lucky there! Jeff: No, CORMAN is lucky...he woulda got mutilated if that happened! [Silky is instantly up, and is irate, he drops Solomon back down with a scoop slam...then climbs the turnbuckle. He signals for the sexbomb, but Solomon is quick to his feet, and bounces into the ropes, causing Silky to land on his Silkspuds on the turnbuckle. Solomon then walks across to Silky...and turns around, faceing the same way as Silky....then reaches up and puts Silky in an inverted Crucifix.] Tim: Iconoclasm Time? Jeff: We've never seen Solomon do the Iconoclasm tho... [Solomon then heaves Silky off in what seems to be the Iconoclasm from the top rope or alternatively the "Flipping Slam" from No Mercy...but in half rotation he slips off the crucifix hold, and drops Silky straight over his shoulder and in the one motion drops down with.] Crowd: RIGHT ON THE MARK!! Tim: ANOTHER?! Jeff: OH MY GOD! SILKY JUST GOT MARKED! Noooooo Tim: Gee, we haven't seen that version tho.... [A close up shows Silkies eyes roll back into the back of his head.....as Kyle makes another cover....] [One....Two....Three!] Tim: It's two falls ALL, with 1 fall to go! This match is sweet.....you cannot predict what is to happen next! [Solomon stands to the delight of the crowd....but Corman is also up, and he and Solomon go fisticuffs....with no man overpowering the other....they back it into the far corner, with Corman going for the old 10 Punch on Solomon, but by this time Silky is getting up. Silky runs across to join the fray, but is definately favoring that neck that he has been dropped on a bit this evening. The three of them tango for a bit.] Jeff: This is close, Silkies boxing skillz haven't even been shown yet.... [....but then the PA sparks up...as the low electronic hum of "Battle Flag" by the Low Fidelity All-Stars hits. Silky stops his battling, to let Kyle and Kyle go at it, as he turns to look at the enterence way. Out steps Tempest looking as beautifull as always, but a little roughed up from the Push Match.] Jeff: WOW! Tempest is here to help Silky win! I always knew she loved him! They're gunna be the best couple! Tim: ..... Jeff: Damn that woman is fine! OOOOH MUMMA! [...but then, from the crowd comes Chris Davison...armed to the gills with a...STEEL CHAIR! Davison then slides in the ring and in behind Silky.] Tim: He's here for REVENGE! He's gunna pay back Silky for EARLIER IN THE NIGHT! [...Davison then smashes the chair into the ground a bit, breaking's Silky's love daze of Tempest. Silky shakes his head and seems to come back to Earth, before turning around.....then SMASH! Davison absolutely LEVELS Silky with the most brutal chair shot, causing the chair to go FLYING out of Davison's hands on the recoil!!] Jeff: NOOOOO! SILKY JUST GOT SMASHED!!! DAMN YOU DAVISON! Tim: He was just exacting revenge.... [Davison still in shock from the force of the chair shot, slides out from the ring, and runs up to Tempest where the two of them kiss and remain at the enterance way. In the ring however, Corman has got the upperhand on Kyle and has him in a standing head scissors.] Jeff: I can't believe that....DAMN THAT DAVISON BASTARD! DAMN HIM TO HELL! [...Corman then tries to powerbomb Kyle onto the chair.....but Solomon uses his quickness to slip out of it and deliver a layout DDT onto the chair in an awesome reversal! Solomon gets up, and turns to see Silky busted WIDE open....his face is already covered in blood...and you can see a huge gash on his head. Then from directly behind Solomon, from the crowd, comes a fimiliar man.....he's dressed in some pretty mean pimpin' attire...all macked out and shit....shiny latex, and feathers is this man's attire...BUT...he still seems fimiliar.] Tim: I know who that is...but I can't put a fucking name to it...DAMNIT Jeff: Just as he helps Silky, I'll be happy... [The Man, slides in behind Kyle, and props up in a pose similar to that of the "Crane" from Karate Kid. You can noticably see his right foot, a steel cap covers his toe...Kyle then turns around because of the crowd reaction before getting kicked SQUARE in the jaw. The man, then slides out....and runs up the ramp to the boos of the crowd....but he seems pleased, and even gives them a Silky crotch chop for fun.] Jeff: THAT MAN IS GOD! He helped Silky!! [...after the man hightails it through the crowd still cheering, little does he know he booted Solomon straight backwards....causing Solomon's hand to land on Corman.] [One....Two... Jeff: NOOOOOOOO .....THREE!!!] Tim: SOLOMON WINS IT! SOLOMON WINS IT!!! Jeff: DAMN THAT MAN! [Silky is now the first to his feet tho, his face bloody....and busted....he can hear Solomon's music playing, as Solomon's dead arm is raised in victory. He then looks at Solomon, then he looks back to the enterance way...then at Solomon....he then lookst at Tempest and Davison one more time...before CHARGING up the enterence way after the Engaged Couple, as the three peeps head to the back.] Jeff: Silky doesn't even care about that useless SWF Belt, he just wants Davison's ass for lunch!! [Solomon is now to his feet, and is awarded the belt...which he kisses to the delight of the fans here in the HWF Arena. Solomon then rolls to the outside, and through the crowd while the fans slap the Boss (of the hot sauce) as...] Tim: I KNOW WHO THAT MAN IS!!! Jeff: Who? Tim: I remember Silky sayin' to me backstage, "Watch out for 'The Mack' "! Jeff: The Mack? Tim: Yeah, I thought he was talking about a new move....BUT....guess what? IT's THE RETURNING JACK DADDY! Jeff: JACK DADDY IS BACK?! Tim: Yes! JACK is BACK!! Jeff: Jack is Back? Tim: JACK IS BACK...as "The Mack" Jeff: Jack the Mack? Tim: Yes...Jack "The Mack" Daddy!! Jeff: Fuck, how can I hate that little loser? Tim: Anyway, we have a our first OFFICIAL Smackdown Champion here on Holiday Hangover 3, what a night it has been.... wait... where are we going now!?! [The camera switch backstage, to Lance Sterling's personal locker room, where we see him lacing up his wrestling boots. He stops and raises his head up, taking a long hard look at the top prize in the game, the HWF world title.] Sterling: Fucking Rykopathe... fucking Storm... I'll show that son of a bitch. He wants to try and intimidate me?!? I'm the goddamn greatest, and he's.. he's.. NOTHING! He's filthy, fucking swine compared to me. [He finishes lacing up his boots and stands up, puffing out his chest slightly to give himself an air of confidence. His fists are clenched in anger.] Sterling: He's dead. Tonight, the jackass of professional wrestling, J. Simon Rykopathe, meets his maker. [Sterling walks outside of his locker room, and eyes Jonathan Storm. He walks behind him and taps him on the shoulder. Storm turns around.] Sterling: Remember, Jonny-boy... screw me over tonight, and its your funeral. Just making sure we understand each other nice and clear. [Storm narrows his eyes at Sterling, who scoffs and walks off as we cut back to ringside.] Tim: Tension hangs in the air as the champ prepares for his match later tonight! We can only guess what's going to happen in that one, but it'll be one for the record books, that's for sure! Jeff: Damn right! Tonight's the night Lance Sterling puts away Rykopathe, and Storm too if he tries any funny business! Remember, its his funeral! Tim: Or so Sterling says...but if I were Jonathan Storm I'd try my best NOT to piss Lance Sterling off. Just from the look in his eyes, he wasn't kidding when he said Storm would leave in a bodybag. [The camera cuts to a shot of outside the arena. Gavin is once again pacing around waiting for Drake to show up. He's muttering things to himself but he's too far away for the camera to pick any of it up. Suddenly a limo pulls up and Gavin races towards it to see who's it is. As he approaches the vehicle the door swings open and out steps David Zakin!] Gavin: Hey Zakin! You're a former champ and you look pretty important tonight. There's been a mess up with the placement in the card and I need to speak to Drake, have you seen him? Zakin: Hey, aren't you that Gavin Cones guy? Yea I heard about you... wow, when they were handing out names you must've been out taking a piss. Sorry to hear about your luck pal, but I haven't seen Drake today. Don't worry though, I'm sure they'll fit you on the card somewhere. Maybe a dark match or something? [Zakin brushes off Gavin and continues to make his way into the backstage area. Gavin has a puzzled look on his face. He seems to be in shock over what he had just heard.] Gavin: So he didn't see Drake today? [The camera fades out and back to the arena. Lights flicker, as the opening chords of "Grind" by Alice in Chains creeps across the arena. The Canadian born warrior, Vic Williams enters the aisle, and walks straight down before jumping onto the ring apron. Upon entering the ring, he stops and holds his arms outwards, in a crucifix pose. The lights steady, as the music fades.] ["Be Quiet and Drive" by the Deftones cuts in, bringing the lights down once again. The Lost Soul steps out from the back, his face etched with seriousness. Lost Soul walks down the aisle, slow as he wishes, until he reaches the ring. The Lost Soul grabs the top rope, pulling himself onto the apron. He steps through the ropes, coming to stand beside his partner - Vic Williams.] Tim: The Watchmen are an intimidating force in that ring. [Chris Thrilla's voice comes over the p.a. "Close your eyes, take my hand, and let darkness lead you to new light." With that, all the lights in the arena go out. A few seconds later the opening beat to Disposable Teens by Marilyn Manson hits and red strobe lights begin to flash behind a giant white screen.] And I'm a black green bow, [The two silhouettes of both Chris Thrilla and Spike appear on the screen, black and with red outlining them.] yeah, yeah, yeah yeah yeah, I wanna thank you mom, [The screen explodes into tiny pieces, like the shards of a glass, all the while red pyro goes off on the sides of the stage. Teen Angst step out from the shattered glass and smoke, the HWF Tag Team titles on their respective shoulders. Chris Thrilla carries a lead pipe in his hand, as the two men walk side by side to the ring. Thrilla slides in, as Spike goes to the apron. Vic goes to his corner.] Tim: So it'll be Chris Thrilla and the Lost Soul starting out. 
[The bell dings, sending Thrilla charging at the Lost Soul. Soul is barraged with a fury of rights and lefts from Thrilla. Chris grabs the arm of Soul and whips him to the ropes. Lost Soul ducks a clothesline attempt from Chris and continues to the other ropes. He's stopped by a kick to the gut from Thrilla, then a knee lift to the face. Soul goes to the mat but stays down no longer than a second. He stands back in the face of Thrilla, who shoves him away. Soul walks right back in the face of Thrilla, thrusting him into a standing head scissors. Soul locks his arms around the waist of Chris Thrilla and lifts him onto his shoulders. He then drops Thrilla with great force, connecting with a devastating powerbomb!] Jeff: That powerbomb nearly knocked Chris out of his boots! [Lost Soul grabs Chris by the hair and pulls him to his feet. He whips Chris across the ring and attempts a high flipping dropkick, but Thrilla swats his feet away. Soul is quick to his feet and charges, but Thrilla leap frogs over him. As Lost Soul comes running back, Thrilla drops and catches Soul with a monkey flip!] Tim: Reversals 101 as demonstrated by Chris Thrilla! [Thrilla grabs Soul by the hair and pulls him up. Lost Soul swipes Thrilla's arms away and connects with an uppercut. Thrilla is rocked back but charges at Soul. Lost Soul leap frogs over Thrilla and grabs Chris' legs rolling him up with a sunset flip.] [One... ...Two..] Jeff: Two count. [Thrilla smashes Soul's head between his legs to break the count. Thrilla gets to his feet, as does Lost Soul. Thrilla comes to Soul but receives a right hand to the face. Soul puts Thrilla into a stand head scissors, but Thrilla reverses with a back body drop. Intending to send Lost Soul over the ropes, Thrilla puts his arms up with force to send Soul over. Instead, Soul's legs manage to wrap under Chris' arms as the fans see what is happening. He grabs onto Chris's legs, completing the tarantula!!!] Tim: Tarantula!! Lost Soul used great ring awareness to get Chris Thrilla into one hell of a tough lock! [Spike sees his partner is in trouble and walks over to assist. Vic Williams sees him coming and runs, diving off the apron with a somersault splash onto Spike!!] Jeff: Somersault splash to the floor! [Vic stomps Spike in the stomach a few times before going back to his corner. Lost Soul lets Thrilla out of the tarantula allowing both men to get back to the mat. Soul is on the apron, as Thrilla is on his knees in the ring. As Thrilla stands up, Lost Soul springboards into the ring with a springboard bulldog!!!] Tim: Springboard Bulldog!! What agility! [Spike is back on his apron and says something to get Soul's attention. Lost Soul walks to Spike, getting into his face. Thrilla seizes the opportunity and rolls Soul up in a school boy!] [One... ...Two..] Tim: Another two count. [Thrilla takes in Spike. Soul is in the center of the ring, dazed. He struggles to his feet, as Spike grabs his Skateboard O' Doom and raises it to the crowd, who give a decent pop.] Jeff: That thing is insane! [Spike leans back, bending the ropes, and vaults up, springboarding towards Lost Soul with a calf-kick. Spike pulls the skateboard underneath his leg and smacks Soul right in the forehead with a Skateboard calf-kick! The nails and tacks dig into Lost Soul's head, busting him open!] Tim: Good Lord! That Skateboard O' Doom is a lethal weapon! [Spike grabs Lost Soul by the hair and pulls him up, showing everyone the bloody cut on his forehead. Soul connects with a hard right hand to the gut, then left, then right. Spike tries to end the attack, but runs into the clutches of the Lost Soul, getting a nasty spinebuster for his efforts!] Jeff: Spinebuster!! [Soul walks towards Vic for the tag, but Vic replies, "You're doing fine."] Tim: Why won't Vic tag in? Jeff: I have no idea, but The Lost Soul isn't too pleased! [Spike comes up behind Soul, but catches an elbow to the temple. Lost Soul knocks Spike backwards with right hands, sending him reeling. Soul kicks Spike in the gut, and locks a front chancery on. He tries to lift Spike up for a High Angle DDT, but Spike counters it into a full nelson.] Tim: What a counter! [Spike wrenches backwards hard, stretching Lost Soul's back and neck. He hooks one of Soul's legs with his own, and looks like he's about to hit a full nelson front Russian legsweep. He knees Lost Soul in the gut with his free leg and brings his other leg over top of LS's head. Spike twists to the left and right, wrenching Lost Soul's back out of shape before pushing himself into the air. As he comes down, he sweeps Soul's leg out, dropping him down with a full nelson, legsweep Rocker Dropper!] Jeff: What a move!! [Spike rolls Lost Soul over and hooks his leg.] Tim: It's over! [One... ...Two... Kickout!] Jeff: He kicked out! Tim: The Lost Soul has an amazing ability to take punishment... [Spike goes to Chris and tags him in. Thrilla grabs the lead pipe and enters the ring.] Tim: Thrilla has had a rough time lately and seems to be very edgy tonight. [Chris stalks Soul into the corner, where Soul smiles and says something to Thrilla. Chris' eyes ignite in rage, as he swings the pipe at the opened gash in Soul's head!] [!CLANK!] [Chris swings again, opening the gash.] [!CLANK!] [Chris swings once more.] [!CLANK!] Tim: Good God, that's lead against bone! [Soul stops smiling and collapses face first to the mat. Vic Williams has grabbed a steel chair and slides into the ring.] Jeff: Vic's finally getting involved... [Thrilla runs at Vic and swings the pipe but is caught with a steel chair shot!] Tim: What a chair shot! [Thrilla drops to the mat like a bag of bricks. Spike enters the ring and runs right into the chair! A dent is clearly forming due to the teens' skulls. Vic goes to stand in front of the Lost Soul, as if to dare anyone to try and get to his partner. Lost Soul slowly gets to his feet and says something to Vic. Williams nods and Lost Soul stumbles out towards Spike. Out of nowhere, Vic swings the chair and connects with the back of Soul's head!!!] Tim: WHAT?! Jeff: OH MY GOD!!! [Vic drops the chair and grabs Thrilla's arm and drags him on top of Lost Soul. In confusion, the ref drops to the mat and counts.] [One... ...Two... ...THREE!!!] Tim: Teen Angst have retained their tag titles... but you've got to see the bigger story is that Vic Williams has just turned on one of his only friends!! [Vic grabs Lost Soul's hair and drags him to his feet, only to drop him with the 3D!!!] Tim: Enough already! [Nine Inch Nail's song "No, You Don't!" interrupts the victory, as Vic's face calms, before pausing and taking in a deep breath. A enormous primal death-metal like scream, beckons from the man's lips, as he quickly exits to the back.] [The camera cuts to a backstage shot of Lance Sterling preparing for his match up later tonight. He's sitting down on a bench in the locker room lacing up his boots. The camera dollies back and Gavin Coens walks into the room and yells towards Lance.] Gavin: Hey Lance! You seen Drake tonight? There's been some type of problem with the card and I really need to speak to him. Lance: Yea, I think I saw Drake kneeling down in front of the security guard out in the parking lot. Maybe you should run out there and find him? Like right now? Gavin: Funny ...I didn't see any security guard. [The camera cuts to another backstage location. The Lost Soul is seen slowly making his way through the backstage area. He is bleeding a bit from his mouth and has a limp in his right leg from all of the pain he had just suffered in the ring at the hands of - well - everyone save the referee and ring annoucing crew. But making his way to the back he was - and muttering something as he spit out blood from his mouth.] The Lost Soul: Gotta.. tell.. Michael..... tell Trey.. what's.. going on... [The camera cuts back to the ring. The HWF fans in attendence slowly begin to quiet. They can sense the chill in the air. The lights in the HWF arena slowly start to fade until the arena is dimly lit and a red light flashes on the entrance aisle. Theatrical type smoke starts to emerge from the top of the ramp. Then, "Cemetary Gates" by Pantera starts up on the speakers.] /-/Reverend, Reverend.../-/ /-/Is this some conspiracy?/-/ /-/Crucified for no sins/-/ /-/But the pain was in my soul/-/ [The song picks up as the guitar of Dimebag Darrel floods the arena as Renegade walks out. The crowd cheers as he walks down the aisle, accompanied by Amy. Renegade then escorts Amy to ringside and enters the ring.] Jeff: Renegade hasn't had much success under his current persona, but this would be a big win for him tonight. [Renegade walks over to the ropes and signals for a mic. He is handed one and he quickly paces back and forth around the ring like a caged lion. The crowd starts chanting his name as he paces around, waiting for them to allow him to speak.] Renegade: Tonight, is Holiday Hangover 3. Well, for Renegade, it's my first Holiday Hangover in the HWF. It will be a memorable one though. Tonight, I will go against three other tough competitors. These guys have made their names in the HWF, but there is no mistake that I haven't worked my ass off in my carreer. This may be the opportunnity I have been waiting for. I want to earn that fat paycheck that comes in the mail. I am ready to be the man I used to be, a champion, and one of the toughest sons of a bitches in the HWF. I am ready for tonight and preparing has been a tough road, with nursing my injury, and training almost non-stop. I have waited, and finally the moment has come. It is time for Renegade to be back in the title hunt, king of the hill, where I deserve to be. Now, I am not going to sell my opponents short. These guys are tough as nails. But I am like a hammer and I will strike down upon them with unmistakable force. These three guys better be ready to leave peices of their body in the arena, because I damn well ready to do so, and to rip off some flesh of my opponents... ["RE-NE-GADE, RE-NE-GADE"] Renegade: We have Jonathan Storm. I have not heard much out of his mouth. He hasn't really made his presence felt. I am ready to plant my boot, laced up and ready, in his ass none the less. This one's for you Lance... [Crowd cheers in the mentioning of Lance Sterling.] Renegade: Then we have David Zakin. He is siding with the Original Prankster who I have had some classic battles with. I never got around to mixing it up with Zakin though. Tonight, I get my chance and Zakin, don't worry, I will kick your ass just as much as I do Mayhem and Storm... [Small cheer.] Renegade: Now, onto Mayhem. It seems this guy is one arrogant son of a bitch. Not only does he know he is squaring off with a former X-Tremist, and a hardcore champion, but a man that has been in unspeakable matches. And I ask... who the fuck is this guy? I sure as hell don't know. I guess he should stick to what he's successfull with, and that is being a club bouncer. He sure as hell won't stop me from acheiving my goal tonight. Some ugly son of a bitch with a mask that is even worse, I may kick some of your teeth back into place, or I may put a matching scar on the other side of your face. You can just be damn sure I am going to beat you, batter you, bruise you, and most of all, bloody you all over this arena right here at Holiday Hangover 3!! [The crowd cheers loudly, as Renegade drops the mic to the outside of the ring again.] Tim: Strong words from Renegade... he looks focused tonight!! Jeff: Blood all over this arena!! YES!! ["Enter Sandman" by Metallica hits the PA and the crowd is a bit surprised. After a minute and the lyrics hit and huge explosion of red pyro goes off and the crowd gets on their feet, for they now know who it is. The familiar whistle of Jon E. Karman is heard and the crowd gets louder. David Zakin emerges from the smoke with Karman behind. Zakin raises his chair wrapped in barbwire high in the air and generates a huge pop from the crowd. The two walk down to the ring side by side and then slide in. Zakin hops up on one of the turnbuckles and raises the chair again. This generates another pop. Zakin hops down and hands the chair to Karman. He exits the ring.] Tim: David Zakin really wants the Canadian Title back. Jeff: Yeah, for a third time... [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.] Tim: And here comes Jonathan Storm, who will also be competing in the Main Event tonight - as the special guest referee. Jeff: Yeah, and he better be impartial or else!! [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 bold 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.Pulling off his black trench he reveals his double bladed chainsaw hooked to his belt. Taking it off he slides it to the corner of the ring. Standing up fans can read the newly added words on his shirt "Fear the freaky masked gorilla"] Tim: Let this match begin...
 [All four men take a corner and begin circling around the ring counter-clockwise. Renegade is first to make a move, as he dashes across the ring and spears Mayhem to the ground. Immediately, Storm and Zakin move in as well. Storm pulls off Renegade by the hair, and Zakin helps him. Zakin slaps on a standing head scissors, and lifts up Renegade for a piledriver. Storm bounces off the ropes and helps Zakin spike Renegade's head into the mat; as Mayhem rises to his feet. All three men now begin to stomp Renegade, as he does his best to cover up.] Jeff: They are murdering him!! Tim: Maybe Renegade did a little too much talking before this match... [Mayhem continues stomping on Renegade, but suddenly gets double-clotheslined by Jonathan Storm and David Zakin. Mayhem hits the mat hard, as Zakin and Storm begin stomping him now. Renegade slwoly rolls into a neutral corner, as Storm picks up Mayhem. Storm grabs Mayhem as if for a uranage, as Zakin keeps Renegade at bay. Storm lifts up Mayhem into the air and then drops down to his knees with a modified franchiser.] Jeff: POP PERFECTION!! Tim: Have Zakin and Storm formed a kinship!?! Jeff: That's what it looks like... [Storm laughs down at Mayhem and then turns around, only to be hit in the chest with a standing side kick... from Zakin!!] Jeff: ...or not. Tim: Shadow Kick by The Insider!! [David Zakin follows the kick up by applying the "Compton Crossface" (crippler crossface) on Storm. Storm kicks his feet in pain, as Renegade slowly gets to his feet. Zakin wrenches it on really hard, but Renegade drops an elbow right acorss the back of his head - instantly breaking the hold. Renegade quickly lifts up Zakin to his feet, grabs him by the throat and chokeslams him down to the mat next to Storm.] Tim: BIG Chokeslam by Renegade!! [Renegade raises an arm in the air, and then attempts a pin. The ref slides in, as Mayhem gets up.] Tim: This could be it!! [One... ...Two... TH... Mayhem breaks up the pin.] [Mayhem lifts up Renegade and grabs him by the arm. He kicks him in the gut once, and then irish whips him to the ropes. Renegade bounces off and Mayhem levels him with a STIFF standing clothesline.] Jeff: The Saw Blade!! Tim: Geez... these guys are just going in circles... [Mayhem stomps Renegade a couple times, as Storm and Zakin begin stirring again. Mayhem looks down at Renegade, who seems out of it, and then runs back off the ropes. Mayhem comes back towards Renegade, but gets hit by a flying dropkick from Storm. Storm and Mayhem violently scatter across the ring, and Storm quickly gets to his feet. He stomps Mayhem to the outside and waits for him to get to his feet. When he does, Storm bounces off the back ropes and dives to the outside; taking out Mayhem with a spinning suicide dive. The crowd pops for this amazing show of talent.] Tim: Nice Corckscrew Suicide Dive by 'The Impact'. [Storm begins laying in some punches on Mayhem, as Zakin jumps onto the rising Renegade. Zakin applies a pumphandle and attempts to lift up Renegade. The big man, however, floats over and applies an inverted facelock. He grabs Zakin by the pants, and lifts him over with an inverted suplex. Zakin clutches at his stomach, as Renegade raises to his feet taunting the crowd. On the outside, Storm brings over Mayhem with a hard snap suplex. Mayhem clutches his back as Storm gets onto the apron in preparation for an asai moonsault.] Jeff: This match is intense!! Action everywhere!! Tim: Settle down, Beavis... Jeff: Beavis!?! [Renegade lifts up Zakin and backs him to the opposite ropes as Storm is on. Renegade whips Zakin towards Storm. Zakin AMAZINGLY sunset flips over Storm, on the apron, and powerbombs him to the ground on the outside. Zakin collapses back onto the apron, as Storm clutches his head in agony.] Jeff: That was truly tremendous!! ["H-W-F, H-W-F"] Tim: It's hard to tell who's winning this match... each man is trying his hardest out there. [Renegade slides out to the opposite side as the other three, and starts digging under the apron. On the other side of the ring, Mayhem is now staggering around. Zakin charges at him, but Mayhem catches him in a chokehold. Zakin tries to break free, but Mayhem lifts him up in the air and slams him HARD on the outside with a chokeslam.] Jeff: OUCH!! Tim: Mayhem just 'Took Out the Trash'. [Mayhem slides into the ring, and lays there for a second; as Zakin and Storm remain motionless on the outside. Renegade comes out from under the ring with a table, which he sets up near the guardrail on the outside. Renegade sees Mayhem inside the ring and then dives in after him. As Mayhem rises to his feet, Renegade kicks him right in the jaw. Mayhem drops like a ton of bricks, and Renegade goes for a quick cover.] Tim: Now's the time!! Zakin and Storm are down!! [One... ...Two... ...THRE...KICKOUT!!] Jeff: OH!! He couldn't get him!! [Renegade pounds his fist on the ground and then lifts Mayhem to his feet. He looks over at the table he set up and smiles a little. He grabs Mayhem by the head and drags him over to the apron. He throws Mayhem to the apron and steps out himself. Renegade, then, applies a standing head scissors; but Mayhem riggles free and delivers a low blow. Renegade stumbles back, as Mayhem lifts Renegade up onto the top rope. Mayhem gets onto the second rope himself, and locks on a front chancery. The crowd begins to stir in anticipation, as Mayhem flies backwards; DDT'ing Renegade through the table on the outside.] Tim & Jeff: HOLY CHRIST!! ["HO-LY-SHIT, HO-LY-SHIT"] Tim: Mayhem just hit Niceness through the table on the outside!! Jeff: MAN, I LOVE THE HWF!! [The fall apparently hurt both men, since neither is stirring at all. On the other side of the ring, Storm has picked up Zakin and throws him in. Storm slides in himself and picks up Zakin. He lifts Zakin onto the top rope, just as Mayhem had done to Renegade minutes earlier. Storm scales up and goes for a superplex, but Zakin pushes him off onto his stomach. Zakin stands on the top rope and, as Storm rises to his feet, he dives off and drives Storm face-down with a flying fameasser.] Tim: INSIDER DROP!! [Zakin looks over at the downed Renegade and Mayhem and goes for the pin.] Jeff: It's over... It's over!! [One... ...Two... ....THREE...NO, KICKOUT!!] Tim: How did Jonathan Storm kick out of that!?! Jeff: I dunno... but that was 2 and fifteen-sixteenths!! [The crowd gasps at the closeness of the pin, and then starts cheering for all four men. On the outside of the ring, Renegade is actually the first man to his feet. He grabs Mayhem by the hair and throws him into the ring. He slides in himself, and slowly rises. Renegade stares down at Mayhem, and then over at Zakin. Zakin and Renegade make eye contact, and then charge at each other. Both men get taken out, however, with a double clothesline. Mayhem, now, slowly rises to his feet. He picks up Storm, and whips him towards one of the turnbuckles. He lifts Storm into a sitting position on the top rope, and then scales to the second ropes himself. With barely enough strength, Mayhem forces Storm into a standing head scissors from the second rope.] Tim: OH NO!! Jeff: OH YES!! [Mayhem tries to lift Storm up for a piledriver, but cannot get him up. Mayhem tries a second time, but it's still no use. Mayhem tries a third time; and finally gets him up vertical. Mayhem takes a quick look behind him, and then flies off backwards; impacting Storm's head HARD with a super piledriver!!] Tim: JESUS CHRIST... THE CAREER ENDER!! ["H-W-F, H-W-F"] Jeff: Mayhem is hitting NOTHING but high-impact moves here tonight!! Tim: GOOD CALL, JEFF!! [Mayhem slowly puts an arm over Storm's chest.] Jeff: This HAS to be it!! [One... ...Two... ...THRE... Zakin and Renegade break up the pin!!] [Renegade and Zakin look down at Mayhem, and begin stomping away at him. After a good 20 seconds, Renegade suddenly punches Zakin in the stomach and pulls him in for a suplex. Renegade lifts him up vertical, and drops him straight down to the mat with a implant DDT.] Jeff: FIST OF RAGE!! [Renegade bounces up to his feet, and gives the cut-throat sign. Just as he's about to pin Zakin, Mayhem spears him from behind and both men fly to the outside of the ring; right in front of the announce table.] Tim: Hey, keep it in the ring guys!! Jeff: No... no... Keep it outside; just not by us!! [Mayhem and Renegade begin brawling ferociously by the announce table, as Zakin and Storm remain motionless in the ring. Zakin is eventually the first to stir, and he pulls himself up with the assistance of the ropes. Zakin leans over the ropes, basically watching Mayhem and Renegade brawl on the outside. Suddenly, Jonathan Storm pulls himself up to his feet and stumbles over towards Zakin. Storm suprises Zakin, by applying a inverted facelock. Storm pulls him to the center of the ring a little, and drops him down to the mat with an inverted DDT legsweep.] Tim: What was that!?! Jeff: Storm was telling me about that... That's The Bittersweet Symphony!! [Jonathan Storm bridges for the pin, as Renegade and Mayhem continue brawling on the outside.] [One.... ....Two.... .....THREE!!!] Tim: FINALLY!! Jeff: Jonathan Storm has done it!! [The bell sounds, as Mayhem and Renegade abruptly stop brawling to see what happened. They stand up to see the ref draping the Canadian Title over Storm's shoulder. Renegade and Mayhem both dive into the ring, but Storm slides under the ropes on the other side and begins scurrying to the back. Zakin slowly stands up, and all three men look at each other as "Papercut" by Linkin Park blasts through the speakers.] Tim: After all that, Jonathan Storm has come out on top!! Jeff: But the real question is, what kind of Impact will Storm have on the Main Event tonight - more specifically, Lance Sterling!?! Tim: I dunno, man... we'll just have to wait and see... [Thge camera suddenly cuts to backstage. The Lost Soul has now made it back to Michael Trey's room. He stares up at the sing on the door with his cold - gray eyes and looks at it. Almost a thousand years pass by in his mind it seems - but he stares at it for a second and opens the door slowly - only a crack. The camera is looking from over his shoulder behind him - and the entire room is pitch black. The Lost Soul calls out Trey's name a couple times - but no reply. Then - all of a sudden the lights flicker on. The camera sees The Lost Soul in the romo - but you can't see who he is looking at.] The Lost Soul: You - the last person I expected to even show up. I'm tired of all of the lies - the bullshit - you CAN'T DO THIS TO HIM. I don't care if I participated in it - you just can't! It's not right! And you - don't even get me fuc - [The Lost Soul is cut off by what seems to be a broomstick whacking him over the head - and the door slams shut in the cameraman's face and is locked behind. You only here the sound of wood hitting flesh - and nothing else. The camera cuts back to Tim and Jeff.] Tim: That was ONE disgusting noise!! Jeff: Things just keep getting more violent here tonight... Tim: What do you expect!?! It's the HWF!! ["DONG"] Tim: What the fu- ["DONG"] ["DONG-DONG"] Jeff: Who the fu- ["DONG-DONG"] [Suddenly, the lyrics and music from "Intro" by DMX kick in through the speakers as a single spotlight shines on the HWF-Tron. The lights in the arena dim, as the fans give Johnny Drake a mixed reaction. The scene on the HWF-Tron is an office of sorts. Johnny Drake is sitting behind his desk, in a leather chair. He stares straight at the camera, will a serious look on his face. It's hard to tell s he's happy, or sad, or what... Johnny's music slowly fades out. The arena is now silent, and nobody remains at ringside. Drake gains his compsure, and then begins.] Johnny Drake: First off; I'd just like to thank everyone for coming to the show, or ordering it, and I hope we've lived up to all the hype. [A few small cheers, although fans are still mad about the whole Kyle Solomon issue.] Johnny Drake: Now, I'd like to speak out of character for a few minutes... I'd like to speak, not as "Superstar" Johnny Drake - but as Johnathon Marcus Drake. I haven't tried this yet, so stay with me... [Johnny pauses, and thinks for a few seconds.] Johnny Drake: Recently, a man was injured here in the HWF. He was a man who WAS the HWF... Not Trev Lasek, although we're all praying for him. Not Ethan Scruggs, although his future is questionable. Not even Jayson Starr, even though he's been with the fed longer than I've been running it... No, this man meant much more to the HWF. [The crowd is kind of stunned, trying to remember who this is.] Johnny Drake: This man... is simply known as Extream... [The crowd cheers loudly for the mention of Extream's name.] Johnny Drake: Yes... he was truly an HWF hero... But an Anti-Hero, who is getting a shot at the World Title here tonight, along with my guidance - injured Extream at a recent HWF show a month or so back... making his future VERY bleek. [The crowd boo's both Drake and Rykopathe quite loudly, although most are still kind of shocked.] Johnny Drake: I cannot get into the specifics of his departure, but as of two weeks ago... Extream officially retired from the world of wrestling; most likely... forever. [You hear a HUGE gasp from the crowd, as Johnny continues.] Johnny Drake: Yes, yes... I know... It came as a shock to me when I recieved his letter. And I can't help but feel partially responsible for his departure. Although he thanked me, along with the rest of staff, I still have this cloud of guilt over my head... [The crowd is dead silent. Everyone is shocked.] Johnny Drake: That is why, here tonight, I am going to immortalize Extream even more... Extream has held just about every title here in the HWF. He has wrestled all the greats, and even managed some of them. Extream was at the top of his game just one year ago, when he claimed the World Title from the exact same man that injured him. Extream, moreover, was one of the only wrestlers who has had enough longevity to stay with the HWF from it's small independant start - to the commercial fed that you've all grown to love. Extream has already been inducted into the Hall of Hardcore... but he needs something more... [The crowd cheers at the list of Extream's accomplishments; plus they cheer Drake for his upcoming announcement. After a good 45 seconds, the cheers die down enough so that Johnny can be heard again.] Johnny Drake: That's why, as President of the HWF, I'm making an executive decision... You fans in the arena, and you fans at home, are watching me on the HWF-Tron. This giant screen was one of the first purchases the fed made when they hit it big a few years ago. This screen, just like Extream, IS the HWF... That is why tonight, right here in Biloxi, Mississippi - I'm renaming the HWF-Tron... It's new name, will be... [Dramatic pause, as a few HWF technicians walk out to the HWF-Tron with a couple ladders and something underneath a sheet. Johnny waits, as the men scale the ladders.] Johnny Drake: ...The Extream Screen!! [The fans give out a HUGE pop, as the technicians rip the sheet from the object and pull out a sign. They carefully place it on the bottom rigging of the Extream Screen. The sign simply has the words "EXTREAM SCREEN" written on it in blood letters. The technicians quickly get off the ladders and scurry to the back. Johnny smiles at the camera, and the shot fades to a still picture of Extream; standing victorious with the HWF title. All the lights in the arena now turn off, as the single spotlight stays on the sign. The words "Extream - You will be missed" pop up on the bottom of the Extream Screen and remain there. The fans in the arena cheer loudly and then break into a HUGEST chant of the night.] ["EX-TREAM, EX-TREAM, EX-TREAM, EX-TREAM"] [The chant continues for a good minute and a half, and is followed by yet another standing ovation. The crew just lets the crowd cheer for two or three minutes. finally, Tim's voice chimes in.] Tim: And, for everyone else here at the HWF... I'd just like to say thank you to Extream for everything he ever did for the HWF. In an industry filled with backstabbers and ego-maniacs, he is truly a legend. Jeff... Jeff: Yeah... um... I'd just like to add that Extream was one of the best men I've ever met, in or out of the ring. I know I've made some wisecracks about him in the past - but I am proud to say that Extream was... my friend. Tim: You will be missed, Extream... you will be missed... [Everything stays silent for a good 30 seconds. And the picture finally fades off of the screen. The bell dings, signaling an upcoming match. The fans cheer for more action, while Collective Soul's "Heavy" kicks in. Their cheers turn to jeers, although some "smarks" give Gavin Coens a pop. "The Sole Superstar in Wrestling Today" steps through the ropes, stretching his arms into the air. The fans boo louder, causing Gavin's cocky smirk to turn to a malevolent smile. He walks down the aisle, giving the fans the cold shoulder. He stops to admire the fine welding work of the HWF technicians, who have constructed a pipeline of half inch brass pipe all around the ring apron, small holes drilled through the top. At the far end of the ring, the pipe is connected to what looks to be a modified kerosine tank. Coens shakes his head, getting what feelings of anxiety he had out of his mind. Gavin grabs the middle rope and pulls himself onto the apron, careful to avoid the pipe. He steps through the ropes and enters the ring, now looking into each corner where a pane of glass is angled and attached to the turnbuckle at a rough forty five degrees.] ~ I feel safe... Tim: Gavin and Michael have made this one personal over the fast week... and right now, it is like two Amtrak trains barreling at one another. Jeff: Nice way to get sponsorship from Amtrak. [The fans stare on into the ring, Gavin and Michael stare at each other from a distance. "The Game" by Disturbed hits the PA, interrupting the tension in the ring. HWF Owner Chaz Manson walks out from the back, dressed in a backwards black Slipknot hat, a black 'hard2thecore.com' t-shirt, and a pair of light blue jeans. Most significantly, he's carrying what both men would love to have - a flaming chair. Chaz walks down the aisle, as Coens and Trey watch on. Chaz carefully avoids the pipe with the flames, he gets into the ring. After calling upon some assistance, a microphone is thrown into the air and snatched by Chaz with his right hand.] Chaz: Now - I was sittin` in the back and thought: what the hell am I doing here? I need a purpose, damn it! [Chaz smirks] Chaz: Well, I found me one. Michael... Gavin... Give these fans a show they'll never forget. You may hate each other with a passion, but remember one thing - This is the HWF. We don't take things easy... We take `em hard to the fuckin` core! [The fans erupt as Chaz tosses the mic back to the timekeeper and turns, reaching the chair over the ropes to the pipe. In an instant, blue flames ignite and quickly engulf the entire pipeline. The blue flames turn to a red color, as apparently the natural gas has been replaced with a gasoline like chemical. The fans cheer for this, as Chaz quickly turns and attaches the leg of the chair to the cord hanging from the ceiling. He signals for it to be lifted, just over seven feet above the ring. Chaz then walks to the ropes and grabs the top, catapulting himself over the pipe and to the floor.] Tim: Chaz Manson has just lit the inferno.. we're ready for battle! 
[Gavin hammers Michael with a right hand, catching him off guard. Chaz walks over to the tank and turns a valve, causing the inch high flames to reach nearly six feet high!! Chaz smiles and walks to the back, raising a fist to the crowd.] Jeff: Christ! Chaz has just set the scene, Gavin is starting without us! [Trey fires back, connecting with Coens' jaw. Gavin instantaneously puts his thumb into the eye of Michael Trey. Trey is knocked back, grabbing at his face. Gavin tries to end it early, grabbing a hold of Trey's shirt and pants, attempting to throw Michael over the ropes into the flames.] Jeff: Here we go! [Trey holds onto the top and middle ropes, clasping his hands around them to hold himself in place. Gavin tries a few times with no luck to get Trey over, then stops. He swings at Trey's head but Trey ducks out of the way and grabs Gavin's hair, pulling him into a neckbreaker!] Tim: Neckbreaker from Michael Trey! [Michael stands and pulls Gavin up too. Gavin kicks Michael in the gut, causing Trey to release his grip. Coens goes behind Michael locks in a rear waistlock. Gavin lifts Trey up and lets him fly backwards in a release German suplex. Michael Trey uses his great agility and lands on his feet. Gavin sees this and charges, knocking "The Golden Boy" to the canvas with a hard right clothesline.] Jeff: Oh yeah! Gavin Coens is SOOO much smarter than Goldylocks... Tim: Michael doesn't have blonde hair... Jeff: Yeah, but... he's the Golden Boy... and, uh... [Gavin is to his feet and climbs the turnbuckle from the inside, not risking going too close to the fire. This extra challenge allows time for Michael Trey to get to his feet. As Coens turns around to face Trey, Michael swipes Gavin's feet in opposite directions, causing Gavin to fall groin first onto the top turnbuckle!] Tim: OH! Gavin took too much time getting around the glass pane and the fire! [Michael cautiously steps over the glass pane, stepping onto the second rope. Trey thrusts Gavin into a make-shift standing head scissors.] Jeff: No! He's going to piledrive through the glass! [The fans see what is about to happen and stand. Michael strains to lift Gavin without falling back. He pulls until Gavin's feet are on the top turnbuckle. Coens counters the move and flips over! Trey goes crashing through the glass - back first - as Gavin lands on top, seemingly unharmed!] Tim: Good Lord! [The fans are going nuts as Gavin rolls over onto his stomach, leaving Michael to wallow in the glass shards!!] Jeff: Gavin IS smarter! [Coens stands, a bit dizzy. He shakes it off and turns, grabbing a fistful of Trey's black hair. Gavin drags Michael to his feet and grabs his arm. Gavin whips Michael catty corner towards another pane of glass!!] Tim: Look out! [Trey slides into the corner - ala Al Snow - and stops his momentum. He narrowly misses the glass, but is quickly back to his feet. Gavin runs at Trey and Michael catches Coens, tossing him backwards. Gavin is headed straight for the glass but is able to wrap his feet around Michael's neck and catch the top rope with his hands!!] Jeff: Phew! [Michael turns around, Gavin's legs still on his shoulders. Coens is holding on for dear life, shaking his head while looking at the glass. Trey shoves Gavin's legs off of him, and Coens just barely manages to swing his legs onto the second rope! Trey just shakes his head, stepping onto the middle rope. Trey turns, so his back to back with Gavin. Coens is alarmed when he feels Trey behind him, but has no where to run. Michael grabs Gavin's arms from behind, pulling him into a crucifix position on his shoulders.] Tim: This is going to be big! [Trey lifts a helpless Coens up, now standing on the second rope. Michael jumps off, driving Gavin through the glass with a sitting crucifix powerbomb!!] Jeff: HOLY SHIT!! ["HO-LY-SHIT, HO-LY-SHIT, HO-LY-SHIT, HO-LY-SHIT!!"] Tim: CHRIST! [Gavin lies in a bed of glass, while Michael's pain is catching up to him. Trey slides out of the glass to the center of the ring, where he turns onto his back, staring straight into the ceiling.] Tim: Gavin Coens was powerbombed off the second rope through a pane of glass!! [Coens still lies face up, talking to himself. He finally rolls over and shows his ripped shirt and his blonde hair - turning red. Gavin crawls over to Trey, apparently cursing his opponent. Michael sits up and begins pounding away at the head of Coens! Trey gets to his feet, pulling Gavin up. He hooks his arm and applies a front chancery, then grabs the waist of Gavin Coens. He lifts Gavin vertical, allowing the blood to flow to Coens' head. After holding the hanging vertical suplex for roughly ten seconds, Michael Trey falls back and allows Gavin to fall roughly on his lacerated back!] Jeff: Michael Trey is trying to injure Gavin's back! Tim: We know Gavin has had some back trouble, stemming from an injury in a match a few months ago. Jeff: So, he's not complaining! [Michael looks to the flaming chair and reaches his highest but is just a few inches too short. Trey is about to jump for the chair but Gavin kicks Michael in the back of the knee from the mat! Michael is brought to his knees, giving Coens a moment to get to his feet. Gavin grabs Michael in a headlock, wrenching on Trey's neck.] Tim: Gavin Coens is trying to slow this match down, making it more technical... Jeff: It's obvious Gavin is much more technically skilled than Trey is, so it's a smart strategy. Tim: Indeed. Jeff: Sure thing, Funaki. Tim: Wha? Jeff: Nothin. [Michael grabs Gavin in a 3/4 headlock and connects with a snap mare, breaking the hold of Coens. Trey stands but Gavin grabs his legs, causing Trey to fall to his back. Gavin stomps his boot into the groin of Michael - a definite unfavorable move. Coens gets to his feet and runs to the ropes. He leaps to the second rope and flips backwards, connecting with an Asai moonsault off the second rope!!] Tim: Asai moonsault onto Michael Trey! [Gavin gets up and grabs for the chair, jumping up to grab it! He pulls the flaming chair down to the roar of the crowd.] Jeff: Gavin's got the flaming chair and the fans... are cheering?! Tim: I think they're just cheering for the chair... Jeff: Barbarians! [Gavin holds the chair above his head and goes to the turnbuckle of the broken glass pane. He climbs to the top rope and turns to face the ring. He holds the chair up and leaps off, placing the chair under his leg at the last moment!! A guillotine leg drop from the top rope with aid from the flaming chair connects with Michael Trey!!! Trey immediately shoves the chair away to avoid from catching fire, but the effects of the chair cause him to then curl up.] Tim: JESUS! [Gavin gets to his feet and goes after the chair, but Trey grabs him by the ankle. Gavin tries to drag the Golden Boy, but Michael sweeps his foot out, causing Gavin to go face first into the flaming chair!!] Jeff: No! [Gavin rolls off the chair quickly - only smoke comes from his hair, but no fire. Trey gets up and runs, jumps, then lands a elbow to the sternum of Coens. Michael stands back up, as does Gavin. Michael swings for a punch but Gavin flips him with a Japanese arm drag. Trey stands back up, and runs at Gavin, only to be hip tossed to the mat. Michael is back up again, this time Coens runs at him. Michael catches Gavin with a drop toe hold, then gets up and attempts a leg drop to the back of Gavin's head, but Coens rolls away. As Trey sits on the mat, Gavin gets up and runs, dropkicking Trey to the mat.] Tim: They're going back and forth! [Coens gets up and pulls Michael to his feet. Gavin whips Michael to the ropes and falls to the mat, as Trey leaps over his body. Coens is back up and attempts a leap frog over Michael Trey, but Gavin is caught on Trey's shoulders. Michael turns and runs towards the corner, as Gavin holds his head to shield the glass! Gavin is sent flying off of Michael's shoulders, crashing through the glass!!!] Jeff: OH MY GOD!!! [HWF! HWF! HWF!] [Michael grabs the foot of Gavin, dragging him through the glass into the center of the ring. Trey grabs the flaming chair and hammers it into the chest of Coens. He drops the chair on the chest of Coens and walks to the turnbuckle. The flaming chair catches Gavin's shirt on fire!!] Tim: It's over! Michael Trey has won! [Michael doesn't stop, instead he climbs to the top rope. He screams, "LIGHTS OUT" as the arena goes dark, only illuminated by the fire on Gavin's chest. A loud thud is heard, causing the flames to go out. The lights come back on, seeing both men on the mat, writhing in pain.] Jeff: Lights Out moonsault! Tim: The moonsault snuffed out the flames, but Michael Trey is our winner in a very close match! Jeff: But remember, Tim... No medical assistance! Tim: That's right! These guys are on their own! [The fans watch on as both men roll on the canvas in pain. Michael Trey grabs the ropes and pulls himself up, stumbling around. He limps - while holding his chest - over to Gavin Coens, staring down at his opponent. Gavin stares up at Michael, spitting blood from his mouth. Coens grabs the ropes and pulls himself to his feet, the back of his hair has matted and turned red with blood. He stumbles around, then dives at Trey. He tackles Michael and pounds away with a fury of punches.] Tim: Hey! Hey! The match is over! Jeff: Yes! Kill him! [Gavin pulls Trey to his feet and walks him to the remaining glass pane. He scoops Michael up and puts him in the tree of woe, his head resting on the glass.] Tim: Oh, God, No! Gavin has snapped! Jeff: I love it! [Gavin turns and walks back a few feet. He turns back to Trey and charges at him. Gavin leaps and connects with a dropkick to the face of Michael Trey, smashing the pane of glass with the force!!!] Jeff: OH... MY... GOD... [The fans erupt in cheers and jeers, shocked at the actions of Gavin Coens. He gets up and screams some obscenities at Michael Trey. Trey falls to the mat in a heap.] Tim: GOD ALMIGHTY!!! [All of a sudden - to a bit of commotion The Lost Soul suddenly appeared on the entrance ramp. IN his hand he is holding a microphone - and is bleeding quite extensively from his mouth and the top of his head - as well as his right arm dragging a bit. He is staring right up at Gavin - Gavin gets one glance at Lost Soul and ducks out of the ropes, leaving throught the crowd. Michael lies in the ring - both he and Soul are severely injured. The crowd is simply astonished - they have seen people take brutal punishment before - but this is seemingly going a bit beyond the normal even for The Lost Soul. It seems like his right arm is completely useless - and both legs seem to be buckling - but he's still standing on his feet.]The Lost Soul: Trey.. no.. Michael. Michael - there is something I've got to *cough* tell you. I've been following you for a long while now Michael - and when I came back to this federation a ran into a man at the wrong time for him. The very first night I met someone that I really shouldn't have - and nothing else was going to be changed. This man already had connections to me from something else - now it's completely worthless - but who the hell cares anyway? Well - I could have broke the news then - but I kept it a secret and took up a bit of the burden myself. We both have minds that think alike Trey - so it was a perfect match for us to fuck around with someone who we were both targeting. Too convienent. [The crowd is clearly confused - but Michael hasn't taken his eyes off of The Lost Soul since he came out.] The Lost Soul: What I'm saying is - I didn't kidnap her. She took my pendant behind my back - that's the reason why I ran down there so fast. I didn't know she took it - that entire fight wasn't planned. I was just posing to give the real kidnapper time to set up what happened. Why am I telling you this now Trey? Is that the queston on your mind? After all of the time - after all of the time we have been fighting and seemingly destroying each other - why I am trying ot help you? Personally - I don't know. But I'm sure it has something to do with the fact that you.. your Claire.. reminds me of my Amy.. maybe that's why I never wanted to hurt you when she was around. Because it would be like staring back into a mirror.. a mirror image of myself in you Michael. [The Lost Soul lifts his head up aginst and stares at the sky.] The Lost Soul: All of those memories Trey - they came flooding back when you proposed - they came flooding back during your celebrations with her - your interaction. Then.. it hit me. I knew what was going to happen - and I saw that you were truly and honestly in love with her. What could I hold against someone that I considered to be so much like myself? I thought about it a long time Trey. A long fucking time. I've come to the conclusion that I can't - and there is only one thing that I can do now. I can tell you that you have nothing left. And you better try to salvage what you can out of this before your life comes crumbling around you - the bursts open at the very seams. When there's nothing left.. [The Lost Soul pauses a bit.] The Lost Soul: I don't care about being forgiven Michael. I don't care if you ever forgive me for what I've done to you - or Claire - but I want you to know that if you.. you know. That's all Michael. Don't forget Michael - I told you I was going to always watch over you and protect you - that I was looking out for your best interests. That I was just trying to get you to realize that you loved Claire - but I was also trying to convince her at the same time. It didn't work Trey.. and now.. Michael: But she sai- [The lights black out, the crowd gasping in unison. On the HWF-Tron, footage pops up from the parking lot as a long limo pulls into a spot in the loading bay. Claire Matthews steps out elegantly, apparently unaware of everything going on in the ring. She grabs a bag from the limo and begins to walk. Suddenly, as she reaches the hallway, she is swept up from behind by... The Masked Man! She drops her bag to the floor and violently kicks and screams.] Tim: No... CLAIRE! Jeff: Ugh... Not this again... [The man resists her attempts to escape and heaves her over his shoulder. As he continues down the hallway, the man swiftly opens a side closet door and tosses Claire inside. He locks the door and mumbles something...] Masked Man: I'll be back soon, Claire... [He continues down the hallway faster now, and we watch from behind him. He starts to tug at the mask... but turns a corner, out of sight. The mask appears; apparently in his rush, he tossed it behind him. Cut back to the arena, where the lights come back up. Both Lost Soul and Michael have disappeared, probably already in search of the masked man.] Tim: Tell the camera men to stay with that... Jeff: Yeah, I want to see that thing climax!! [The cameras pan across the arena, showing the deadly site of the first ever "Finale" Matchup prospect, glass is scattered on the floor outside of the ring, where a 15 foot ladder also sits. In each corner of the turnbuckle, there's a glass mirror placed, and sickeningly dangling from the roof is a noose...wrapped in Barbwire. Oh, and don't forget the C4 in the ring....] Tim: Oh my god, I actually don't think I can handle this tonight...after all what's happened, this is sure to be extremely sick... Jeff: Ahhh, common Tim, show some balls...if you can't handle this stuff, just step down from your job....I'll be happy to host alone... Tim: Actually.... Jeff: [Gets hopes up] Tim: If I left, you'd be stuck with Bradshaw... Jeff: EEEEEE! Hell no, stay Tim, stay... Tim: Anyway, this is the match to end all matches, a Certain Main Event Match on any other federation, but here tonight Phoenix and Insomnia... Jeff: J.D. Brady... Tim: ...will do battle for Phoenix's hardcore belt ONE LAST TIME! Jeff: They're gunna pull out the stops, that's for sure. ["Close the Door" hits the speakers as Phoenix, wearing his torn black shorts and Lasek "SHXT" shirt and carrying the hardcore belt in his right hand, bursts through the curtains to a loud ovation of boos. He slowly makes his way to the front of the stage with a smirk on his face. He glances out into the crowd on either side of him before raising the belt into the air which only causes the reaction to get louder. He almost laughs to himself before making his way down to the ringside area. Phoenix stops at the base of the ramp to closer inspect the killing field that has been set up before him. He cautiously makes his way over the announce table avoiding the glass where he asks for a mic. One is handed to him so he climbs up on the announce table to look out at the fans once again.] Phoenix: Hello Biloxi. [Cheap hometown pop.] Phoenix: How is everyone doing tonight? Have you seen enough hardcore action yet? Have you seen enough blood? I sure hope not, because Biloxi, get ready to get Hard to the Fucking Core!!! [The crowd seems a little confused at Phoenix's unusually light hearted comments, but cheer anyways.] Phoenix: Good, good. But just you wait because I think we have a little bit more in store for you now. We have shattered glass. [Phoenix points to the concrete in front of the announce table which is covered in glass shards as he gets another pop.] Phoenix: Plus we have mirrors and C4. [The crowd gives another pop, this one louder than the last.] Phoenix: And then there is the barbed wire noose. How do you like that? [Another huge pop, this one seeming to keep carrying on.] Phoenix: And finally, we will have the greatest spectacle of them all. Tonight, here in the Mississippi Coast Coliseum, we will get to see something that hasn't been seen in awhile and I know you will all love it. Now I have given you some pretty good matches in the past haven't I? I have shown to the thousands of you people in attendance and the millions of you watching at home, what I'm willing to do to keep this belt and I think you all have liked what you've seen. In the last few months, I have gone up against such big names as Gavin Coens, Renegade, Vic Williams, JD Brady, and Michael Trey and I have think I have given you some of the most brutal matches that you have seen in recent months. Now who would agree with me on this? [The fans cheer once again, almost on cue.] Phoenix: Yeah, I thought so. Now I haven't given you the best that I am capable of yet, but I think I've given you fans some memories. So here, just for you guys, I have put together a personal highlight reel. Boys in the back, roll that tape. [The HWF-Tron kicks on and shows various clips of Phoenix's big spots. Phoenix dropping Chris Styles through a sheet of glass and Renegade powerbombing Phoenix through the glass platform, Phoenix hitting the light bulb splash on Renegade and Renegade hip tossing Phoenix from the ring through the announce table. Phoenix delivering Innocence Lost on Ethan Scruggs with barbed wire and Michael Trey knocking Phoenix off the ladder backwards onto the guard rail, Phoenix jumping out of the bell tower window onto JD Brady and Phoenix driving Brady Into The Ashes through the cell roof and the glass mat. All of these are shown.] Phoenix: Now Biloxi, is that not someone who is Hard to the Fucking Core? [Yet another pop.] Phoenix: That's exactly how I feel. I know I may not be the best wrestler or the most hardcore man in the HWF right now, but each and every week that I'm booked, I come out here and I bust my ass for you people, the fans. You guys are what makes this federation as great as it is, so now, just in case I haven't given back to you what you expect to see, I have one more surprise in store for you. But what kind of hero would I be if I didn't share it with everyone out there? I was going to keep it for myself and just spring it on you, but as I stood atop that ramp on the way down here and I heard a less than warm welcome for myself, I looked out into the crowd and I saw a row of fans up there in the balcony all wearing my shirt and all holding up signs with my name on it, I started to get that warm feeling inside of me that says that no matter what you people yell to me, no matter how harsh of a reaction I get from you, I know you people still like me. No matter how loud the boos are or no matter how much you cheer to see the other guy beat my ass, you really do like me. You know what I bring to ring and you know what I will do for you people and deep down, each and every one of you like me. But I was still skeptical about telling what I was going to do for you people tonight. But then I saw that little boy right there in the front row. [Phoenix points to a boy, maybe ten years old in age sitting in the front row with who appears to be his parents. The boy is wearing the Phoenix t-shirt and is holding up a sign that says "Into the Ashes" with several pictures and magazine clippings of random Phoenix pictures. When the boy realizes that Phoenix is talking about him, he begins to go nuts] Phoenix: I saw that little boy right there, and it hit me. I may have been losing my touch with why I'm here. I'm not here to do what I do for myself. I'm here to entertain people like that little boy, so now, I want to give something else back to the fans. [Phoenix hops down from the announce table and walks over to the boy. The little kid is completely awestruck as his hero walks straight toward him. Phoenix gets over to the boy and he begins to jump up and down as he is so excited. Phoenix motions toward his parents and the mother hands him a pen which Phoenix uses to autograph the boy's sign. He hands the pen back to the lady and then shakes the boy's hand as the crowd cheers. He then walks over to the ring and slowly slides in, being careful to avoid the explosives.] Phoenix: I came to the conclusion that people like that boy are why I'm here. It isn't to please myself and it sure as hell isn't for the money. So now, just for you people here in Biloxi, I'm going to dedicate this next match to you. Everything I do tonight and everything I try to do is because you as I appreciate you fans that much. So now, on with my big announcement right? So right here, right now, in the city of Biloxi, Mississippi, just for you people, I'm going to do something that we all want to see done. And that my friends, is to cut open, make bleed, hang and hopefully end the career of that son of a bitch, JD Brady. [The crowd sees where this is going and begins to let out a deafening chorus of boo toward Phoenix as Phoenix just smiles to himself.] Phoenix: You see, this shit between him and me has been going on for way too damn long now. I know and all of you know that he sure as hell doesn't deserve my belt, but he just doesn't learn. How many times to I have to beat him, how many times to I have to make blood flow from him like crap from a force-fed goose? I mean, I have been kicking his ass all over this country for the better part of four months now and this shit has to stop. You people as well as myself are all getting tired of this. It has stopped being you people seeing the card for an HWF show and wondering if this is finally the week that Brady will beat me and earn that belt that he may or may not deserve and is instead becoming, how much blood will Phoenix lose before finally deciding that he's had enough and ends the match. So you know what folks, this is the week that this shit ends. This is the week that Brady finally has to end his career and this is the week that all of you people get to see a public execution. When Brady set this match up last week, I couldn't help but laugh to myself as he gave me such a wide variety of weapons to end his life with. Maybe I'll attempt to lacerate him and uncountable times causing him to die from loss of blood. Or maybe I'll just try to blow his motherfucking face off with all this C4. Or maybe, just maybe, I'll end this how he wants by hanging his stupid ass from that noose up there. And if we're all lucky, maybe one of those barbs will piece his throat taking the air away from him much quicker than he expects. But hell, we can all hope now can't we? So Brady, lace up those boots, eat your last meal, and take your last breath because your career and possibly your life will end right here tonight. So do us all a favor and make this easy on both of us and just come out here right now. I don't want to do this, but if it's what these people want, then I guess it'll have to be done. So c'mon Brady, get your ass out here so we can start this. I'm that dead serious. [Phoenix turns around and tosses the mic to a ring attendant and looks up at the stage waiting for Brady as the fans continue their huge tirade of boos.] Jeff: Fuck, Phoenix is focused tonight....he's lightened up a bit.... Tim: Yeah, I'd have to... [Suddenly "Orignial Prankster" by The Offspring comes on over the arena as the fans come to their feet! They start chanting "J-D-Bra-dy *Clap clap clapclapclap*" as they can just think about him. You hear women screaming his name threw the entire arena. Then about twenty seconds into the theme "The Original Prankster" JD Brady himself comes out to a thunderous pop! JD walks down to the ring, strutting this stuff, with women trying to get over the guardrails to get to him. JD walks over and gives a little kid a high-five and then JD goes into the ring, crawling under the ringropes. Brady gets up onto the top turnbuckle and puts his arms in a spread eagle position, getting more cheers, as he turns and waits for Phoenix to chuck his belt over to the ring announcer.] Jeff: Well, he doesn't even look worried about this match, he looks quite calm... Tim: I wouldn't take Phoenix too lightly, this guy is a Walking Nutjob... Jeff: Exactly! We don't need shit like him here....
 [As Phoenix turns and throws his belt at the timekeeper, he turns to face Brady who catches Phoenix with a right hand, rockin' and reelin' the smaller Phoenix back into the ropes, precariously near the shattered glass on the outside. Phoenix then blocks a right, and delivers one of his own, before doing a small tackle down, into some punches to Brady's skull. Brady then rolls it over, and returns the favor punching Phoenix repeatedly in the same spot above the eyebrow causing some swelling to ensue.] Jeff: And new from EA Sports, it's Knockout Kings 2001!!! [Brady then breaks his punch fest, as Phoenix rolls across and takes up a rest in the corner back against the Glass where he'd normally rest up in the turnbuckles. Brady smiles at the prospect of the future carnage, and backs up in the far corner, as Phoenix starts to stand but still looks dazed. Brady points to the sky, then at Phoenix as the crowd goes nutz. Brady then takes off.....] Tim: This is gunna hurt... Jeff: WOOHOO, I hope he kills Phoenix's dumbshit ass... [...and starts for a huge Stinger Style Splash, but Phoenix breaks his fake daze and catches a air-born Brady in a flapjack type manouver, bringing Brady crashing through face-first into the glass, instantly breaking the mirror into a million pieces as the camera fades into a painfull looking Brady face, which is now cut and bleeding, along with some of his upper body. Chants of H-W-F, H-W-F! rock the arena, as Phoenix doesn't let up by standing with both feet on the back/head of Brady, and using the ropes as extra pressure and leverage.] Jeff: That Phoenix is fucking crazy, as much as I love violence I hate him! Tim: This could be over before it got underway! [Phoenix then stands up on the bottom rope, and springs up, landing on the back of a bleeding Brady with a very stupid and unpractised looking Senton Style splash. The causes Brady to roll over onto his back, you can now cleerly see him BUSTED WIDE OPEN, as the blood runs free. Phoenix then rolls to the outside, carefully avoiding the glass, before searching under the ring for some weapons. Then into the ring flies, a fire-extinguisher, steel chair, two cookie sheets, a garbage can including two kendo sticks and a broom, a framed glass photograph of Jon Storm....] Jeff: WHAT THE HELL?! Tim: Oh my god.... [....and last but not least, Phoenix rolls in a table, and sets the other two up, on the outside over the glass, and stacks them up on top of each other, as the crowd goes wild with the appearance of tables. Brady is up now, whiping the blood from his abrased fase, as Phoenix hops up to the apron - Brady comes over and swings a big punch which Phoenix leans back away from to avoid, Brady then swings another and Phoenix blocks it, Phoenix then tries to use that grabbed arm and hip toss Brady over into the glass, nearby the tables, but Brady's bigger body overpowers the smaller Phoenix, and he throws Phoenix into the ring, causing Phoenix to bounce painfully - rib first - into the fire extinguisher.] Jeff: Holy fuck, I think I saw his ribs break on that one! Tim: You happy about it? Jeff: Certainly man.....there's only one good Phoenix, a dead one! Tim: Why do you hate him so much anyway? Jeff: I can't remember why, but I know when he tried to put Sterling through the table a few weeks back - that took it one step further. [Phoenix bounces around clutching his rib-area, as Brady decides what weapon of distruction he's going to use on Phoenix, he then grabs a kendo stick and lies it across the corner where the mirror had already been broken, creating a triangle with the stick and the ring ropes. He then grabs the two cookie sheets, and waits for Phoenix to get up before delivering Hardcore Holly style windmill hits with left and right cookie sheets, then finishing it off with a deadly ear-clap sandwhich. Phoenix drops down to a knee, but still won't go right down, so Brady drops the cookie sheets ontop of each other before picking Phoenix up and dropping him down with a Brainbuster DDT onto the sheets of steelness.] Jeff: Well, looks like there was no C4 there... Tim: This is timed folks, we don't know when they'll go off....we weren't even told. [Anyway, Brady picks Phoenix up again, and takes him up into the Electric Chair.] Jeff: What's he going to do?! [The Crowd Chant, as Brady turns to the kendo stick corner, before slipping Phoenix off, into a face-first powerbomb without a sitdown, causing Phoenix to crunch through the kendo stick - throat first - then face first into the glass! Phoenix then squirms around as it only makes matters worse, the crowd continues a cheer, and Brady picks Phoenix up again, before punching him like Kevin Nash, right back into the glass. Insomnia then walks across to the table that was slid in, and sets it up, perpendicular to a turnbuckle.] Tim: Phoenix might not be able to talk for awhile after that deadly throat first descent through the glass. [Brady then grabs Phoenix and rolls him up onto the table, Phoenix looking at the cieling, as Brady surprisingly takes to the nearby turnbuckle, and scales to the top, not before throwing a chair ontop of Phoenix. Brady then flys with a like-Mike (Awesome) splash, as Phoenix rolls off causing Brady to crash through the chair, then through the table....then BOOOOOM!] Jeff: [Jolts] AHHHHHG! Damn that was loud...HOLY CRAP! H-W-F! H-W-F! Tim: Oh my god! Brady must be dead! The first C-4 Must have KILLED BRADY! [As the smoke clears from the explosion, you see a V-shaped broken table, and Brady is lying on his back squiming around, he's nor burnt tho, but is holding his ears in agony!] Jeff: That chair must of took the brunt of the explosion! Tim: But imagine the decibles of sound at that close, Brady could be - should be, DEAF! [Phoenix then gets to a knee, the sarcastically gets the Fire Extinguisher, before extinguishing the "should be" charred Brady, before laughing to himself in a mock-rediculous tone.] Jeff: See, things like that make me hate Phoenix. Tim: Even tho Brady's the good guy, I actually found that a bit funny! [Phoenix just throws the extinguisher at Brady when finished, clonking off a part of his body, unseen in the white mist. Phoenix then grabs the Garbage Can and waits for Brady to get up, which takes awhile, before putting the can over Brady's head. Brady stumbles around a bit, as all Phoenix can do is laugh at him in a cross between Benoit and Tazz style laugh! The crowd boo the hell out of Phoenix, so he grabs the other kendo stick that hasn't been broken and starts to play a bit of Bradyball by hitting him deep into the outfield!] Tim: OH MY GOD! Phoenix should be playing for the Yankees with a violent swing like that! Jeff: Oooh, if Brady isn't deaf, he definately is now! He must be ringing like Slut's Telephone after that one! [Insomnia slumps awkwardly flat on his back, as Phoenix grabs the chair, and holds it to the sky, as the crowd boo you can see howver one distincively burnt and charred side. Phoenix then scales the nearby turnbuckle.] Tim: Shit, time the Phoenix flies, eh? Jeff: I'm surprised he can even jump, after all the injuries his dumb ass would have. [Phoenix then leaps off with the chair positioned under his ass, in a rediculously stupid looking Arabian Facebuster, that ends up looking like an Senton Splash, as you can see the garbage can over Brady's head, crumble up even more, as Phoenix bounces off, and starts clutching his tail bone before standing up, and giving it a good rub.] Tim: Eeee, that musta hurt! [Brady then escapes the confines of the Garbage Can, as he holds his face in pain. Phoenix then rolls to the outside, avoiding the glass again...before grabbing the ladder, to the delight of the fans. Phoenix makes it through the sea of glass, before strangly hopping up onto the apron, back to the ring, with the ladder still on the outside. Phoenix then stands on the apron, and pulls the ladder a bit closer to him...] Jeff: WHAT THE HELL IS THIS FRUITYCAKE DOING?! Tim: I must admit this is a bit stupid, I woulda slid the ladder in and got my ass in as quick as possible. [In the distant backgound, you can see Brady run to the far ropes, then back at Phoenix, who's still holds the ladder in one hand, but turns to see Brady flying at him in a cross-body-block that sends Phoenix crashing into the ladder, and Brady bouncing off and landing on the ladder and a bit of glass in a sick display of violence. The ladder crashes into the ground, as Phoenix bounces off it again!] Tim: The first ladder spot! And it turns out to be painfull of course.... Jeff: Hey, the glass came into effect too, Brady is a sick little devient....it's his own fault because of coming up with such a Sweet Match like this "Finale" match! [Phoenix rolls off the ladder, holding his ribs, as Brady manages to come out of the glass a better off then would of expected. His back now is bleeding clearly, as Phoenix grabs the ladder again, and slides it into the ring. With the crowd chanting H-W-F into the background. Phoenix slides in after it, as Brady is soon to follow. Phoenix looks way up to the noose, with a look of disbelief on his face....] Tim: This match is actually quite stupid, because the noose is all the way up there, and they both have to be on the ladder so one can hang the other.....I mean, the way these two are killing each other, neither will be able to climb the stinkin' ladder! [Anyway, Phoenix starts to set up the ladder in the middle of the ring - just under the barbwire noose. Phoenix then starts to climb it for no reason...] Jeff: Maybe he's going to jump down onto Brady? [...as Phoenix makes his way to the top, Brady reaches into his pockets and pulls out his back 'o thumbtacks that he's used before on Phoenix in such matches as the Scaffold Above Enterence Way match. Brady holds it up for the crowd to see, as the crowd burst into H-W-F chants. Phoenix then looks surprised at the crowd, before smiling, and thinkin' that they're cheering for him. Brady then opens the bag, and spils the little prickly bastards on the floor, before smiling to an adoring crowd. Brady then climbs up the SAME side as Phoenix!] Tim: Oh my god, that ladder's going to tip over if they don't watch 'em selves! [Phoenix then looks down, and starts to boot away at Brady, none are on target, untill Brady turns around, and faces the opposite direction to Phoenix, and catches a leg over his shoulder. While standing on the side of the ladder, he brings Phoenix's other leg across his shoulder, then delivers one of the most devestating standing powerbombs we have ever seen off the ladder, while he remained, to Phoenix who thuds into the thumbtacks like a grape, as BOOOOOM! The second C4 goes off, chain-reacting the ladder to go crashing backwards, with Brady still on it. The ladder crashes into the ropes, as Brady lands back first across the ladder, and simply falls off it to the mat below.] ["H-W-F, H-W-F"] Jeff: That is one of the most BEAUTIFUL THINGS I have ever seen in my life...*sniff* Tim: Damn man, that's sick, it's one of the most disgusting things I've seen. Both men have givin it all in that move alone... [The crowd is all applauding both men with a standing ovation in a nice show of respect, as Phoenix rolls over, his back like a human Pincushion, with tacks still sticking into his shirt, and through, as you can see the back of his black t-shirt turn into a dull red and wet color. Brady then gets to his feet, and limps over to Phoenix who is already up to one knee despite being the human pincushion. J.D grabs Phoenix, and just shoves him over into a corner with a mirror in it. Brady grabs the broom that is lying on the mat, from earlier, before attempting to smash it over Phoenix's head, but 'Nix delivers a weak, but stunning, punch into Brady's guts, that cause him to drop the broom. Phoenix grabs his sore rib/back area if only momenterily, before picking the broom up, and shattering it across the back of Brady. Phonenix then turns, and reefs the mirror from it's support, and drops it on the ground.] Jeff: This is looking good, I wonder what's going to happen now! [As Phoenix positions the mirror, Brady reaches across and grabs the Jon Storm signed Photograph! Brady then gets on all fours, while hiding the framed glass weapon of mass destruction! Phoenix turns, then pulls Brady into a standing waistelock.] Tim: German Suplex into the glass? [..but Brady delivers a swift mulekick, sending Phoenix backwards and holding his nuts, Brady then spins around and completes the motion with a deadly overhead swing with the Framed Glass Photo of Jon Storm.....which shatters over the head of Phoenix, and sends the Hardcore Champion to his knees, as the frame remains dangling around his head.....but the glass is shattered all around, and Phoenix's head gets busted open some more.] Jeff: [Laughs] I don't think Phoenix really like Jon Storm much... Tim: What? Jeff: Well, he hated him so much, he went out and broke one of his precious framed and signed photo's....WITH HIS HEAD! Tim: You goofball! [Brady then goes around to the back of Phoenix, and helps him back to his feet, before turning - back to back - and reaching up and over his own shoulders, grabbing a hold of the frame. Brady then leans forward, causing Phoenix to arch back across Brady's back, while being choked by the frame. Phoenix gasps for air, while trying to eleviate the pressure to his neck with his hands - all the time his legs swinging like mad. Brady then leans backwards, as Phoenix thinks relief is at hand, untlil Brady leans forward again, re-starting the choking process all over again. Brady then leans back, but Phoenix reaches up and drops down - delivering a hangman's neckbreaker to Brady, which causes J.D to land neck first across a bit of the frame, shattering it, and allowing the frame to drop to the ground to the delight of Phoenix. But both men lye down, on the mat, exhausted.....] Jeff: That was a pretty good counter by Fonyx. [Brady is surprisingly the first to his feet, and staggers around a bit, before eyeing down a getting up Phoenix...Phoenix has his back to the Prankster, as Brady runs, trying for a clothesline, but Phoenix turns and catches the clothesline - turning it into his side-unarage slam (Bossman Sidewalk Slam). Phoenix then picks up Brady and manages to whip him into the corner where the glass was set up ready for the German Suplex. Phoenix then slaps his right thigh in a taunt, before putting Brady's legs up over the middle ropes, all ready for the "Innocence Lost" Groin Kick. Phoenix then bends down, as Brady pleads for him not to do it, before sliding the glass mirror under his legs and over the ropes, setting the glass up in his crotchal area.] Tim: Oh my god, I'm gunna give this 10 for originality... [Phoenix then backs up, as you can see a zoom in of Brady's adam's apple gulp....Phoenix then runs and SMPAMB! Kicks him right into the glass/mirror covered ballsac. The mirror shatters on impact, as Phoenix's boot also connects on the lovespuds of Brady. The Prankster who just got pranked with a Phoenix joke, collapses, and unfortunately lands face first into the glass wreckage, as he holds his balls...face...back...everywhere that hurts. However, Phoenix jumps around holding his toe....in a Jackie Chan reminiscant moment of delivering as much punishment as you recieve.] Jeff: HOLY SHIT! That's f'n funny! Brady's got Balls of....well...glass...to stand up and take that shot! Tim: Erg...I think Brady's parental hopes have just been shot...in the...f....f....NUT! [Phoenix then regains his composure, and sets the ladder back up in the middle of the ring, kicking some junk away....and he starts to climb it. As Phoenix reaches the top, he urges Brady to "Get the fuck up here ya muhfucka!" Brady responds and starts climbing....probably to his fatefull doom.] Tim: In any other Ladder Style matchup, you'd NOT want your opponent to be up there with you, but in this, it's the only way....the noose is up there...and the ladder is the only way up! [As Brady reaches the top, Phoenix tries to get the noose down near his neck, but only proceeds in cutting his hands a bit. Brady then thinks quick, and starts to punch Phoenix. Phoenix get's stunned, and sways back, before swinging in and delivering a haymaker, that sends Brady.....] Jeff: NOOOOOOOOOOO! [....flying off the ladder, and back first into the ropes below. Phoenix looks dissapointed as victory was so close. H-W-F H-W-F chants are instant, as Brady bounces off the ropes, and flys forward, crashing into the ladder....] Tim: This could be bad for Phoenix... [....This sends the ladder rocking backwards with Phoenix still way up the top. Brady is down, as Phoenix and the ladder fall backwards, sending Phoenix flying OVER the top rope, and STRAIGHT THROUGH THE TWO TABLES THAT WERE STACKED UP EARLIER...and then STRAIGHT INTO THE FUCKING GLASS! Phoenix doesn't even move, his body just lies imbedded into the glass.] Jeff: R.I.P Phoenix.... Tim: I dont' even think he can rise from the ashes... Jeff: HOLY FUCK, that was massive... Crowd: ........... Tim: I still think the Barbwire Noose, and noose matches in general suck....Now how is a dead Phoenix going to get UP the ladder, and into the noose? He won't quit....so we have to wait untill his ass gets up! [Moments of crowd silence as they know Phoenix could be well dead as he lies in the double V of broken tableage. As Brady is up finally, after the tremendous whiplash of the rope-bounce,....the unthinkable happens....Phoenix's head tilts to the side, before he rolls over, and to the safety of broken table, instead of the sharp and dangerous bits of bloody glass. The crowd actually realise this is a tremendous occasion and start cheering H-W-F as Phoenix can still stand. Phoenix stands, and raises his arm Mick Foley style, before falling down again.] Tim: I bet his got a concussion... Jeff: Yeah, but you need a brain to get it bruised. [Brady starts setting up the ladder, again, as Phoenix manages to get the fuck up...Phoenix then rolls his broken ass into the ring....as he gets up, Brady is quickly over, somehow, to grab him in a cradle, before flipping him over "Prankin" Phoenix with his finisher, as the THIRD C4 goes off in a exposion. From within the smoke, you can see both mens legs at either side, as both men would of taken the brunt of the explosion.] ["H-W-F, H-W-F"] Jeff: Well, if they're not dead, finally they are...Rest In Pieces bitches! [Again the dramatic moments pass, as a bloody Phoenix emerges from the smoke, staggering around, charred and bloody....cut to shreds, with Brady slowly...next to follow. Phoenix then walks around to the far-side of the ladder, and waits, as like a message-without-words seems to occur, as Brady stands at the bottom of the other side, and they both climb in unicen as the crowd's cheers get Louder, and LOUDer, and LOUDER by each rung climbed. Then, they reach the top...] Tim: I can sense this is the end....may we all stand in prayer....someone's going to die.... [Sure enough the two men battle it out at the top of the ladder, the scene is almost reminiscant of a climactic part in a 20 billion dollar Hollywood production movie. Hero vs Villain, Champion vs Contender, David vs Goliath....which will provail? Suddenly, Phoenix makes a mistake, he blocks a deadly right hand by Brady, and on instinct tries to hip toss him over the ladder, which would make a sweet spot. But as he tries with all his might, Brady reaches up sneekly and starts to lower the noose down to Phoenix's head level. Then in a split second, Phoenix realises what's going on as the barbwire noose gets around Phoenix's neck....Phoenix instantly lets go of Brady's arm and reaches up and grabs onto the barbwire, so it won't pierce his neck - the letting go of the arm shocks Brady, who accidently kicks the ladder out from under them, and falls....] Tim:.... [...and in all one second, Phoenix get's hung, but manages to save his life by having his hands in between the barbwire and his neck, but also, gets a small amount of revenge by catching Brady on his way down in a violent leg scissors. Both men are hanging, choking for their dear life....all by one thin rope as the crowd is sickeningly silent. Phoenix's leg-noose, is proving effective, as Brady's face starts to go purple....the bell hasn't even rung yet even tho the match is over...the suddenly....] [*Snap*] [The rope breaks, sending Phoenix and Brady crashing to the junk covered mat below, as the time-keeper rings the bell.] Jeff: My god, what a match, these men have to be dead. Nigel Rolston: And your winner, and NEEEEEEEW H-W-F Hardcore Champion..."The Original Prankster" Crowd: J.D BRAAAAAADY!! [Brady's hand isn't even raised, as EMT's are instantly out along with ring crews to clear the glass. The EMT's rolls Brady up onto a stretcher, he's unconcious, probably landing awkwardly between Phoenix's neck, as an instant replay cleary clears that up. Phoenix however shoves the EMT's away, as he crawls out of the ring, still sporting a barbwire noose necklace....and a rope doglead! Phoenix then stumbles over again, and is helped to the back by EMT's.] Tim: It's...finally over... Jeff: My god, those men gave it all... Tim: Yes they did... Jeff: I actually have a new found respect for that Pyscho Bitch Phoenix, he deserves it.. [The crowd stand on their feet, and applaud the hell outta both men, as the show cuts to the short promo for the HWF's next PPV! The camera fades back in on the empty ring, as the crew prepares for the main event.] Tim: Its that time, folks... Jeff: THE MAIN EVENT! Tim: Exactly. The match to end all matches, for the biggest prize there is, the HWF world title. Jeff: And that means..its time for the GREATEST! Tim: Yes, Jeff. Its time for "The Greatest". [Cameras cut to the ring where Head Announcer, Nigel Rolston, is ready to kick off the main event.] Nigel Rolston: Ladies and gentlemen, it is now time for.. the MAIN EVENT! Introducing first, the challenger: Hailing from New Jersey, weighing 237 pounds--the man formerly known as "The Icon", J.. SIMON.. RYKOPATHE! [The arena lights fade out and are replaced by orange strobe lights. Rykopathe's voice booms over the speakers: "Cause I'm one step closer..." as the song of the same name by Linkin Park blasts over the PA system. Rykopathe emerges from the back to a mixed reaction from the crowd. He walks to the ring and sits on the top turnbuckle.] Nigel Rolston: And his opponent... from Hollywood, CA, weighing 260 pounds, he is the reigning Hardcore Wrestling Federation champion--"The Greatest", LANCE.. STERLING!
#Fortune fame ["Memory Remains" by Metallica booms over the speakers and the crowd erupts into cheers for the HWF champion, Lance Sterling. The arena lights change to gold and silver and begin throbbing as the man himself walks out from the back, the HWF title belted around his waist. Sterling pauses and looks around at the capacity crowd before slowly walking down to the ring, his hands raise high in the air. Sterling climbs into the ring and eyes Rykopathe warily before turning around and climbing to the top rope, taking off the HWF title, and holding it high for all to see.] Nigel Rolston: And now, introducing the special guest referee: From Anaheim, CA, "The Impact", JONATHAN STORM! [Again, the lights dim, as "Simon Says" by Drain STH hits the speakers. Jonathan Storm, wearing a cutoff referee's shirt, walks confidently from the back and wastes no time making his way to the ring. As he climbs in he is met with a long, hard stare from Lance Sterling. Storm smiles at him mockingly as his music dies down.] Tim: And this match is about to get underway! Sterling, Rykopathe! World title! Jeff: And if Storm screws Sterling, he dies!!
 [The opening bell rings. Sterling and Rykopathe circle each other, both men looking for an early opening. Sterling, with an air of confidence about him, prances around the ring, finally catching Rykopathe off guard with a series of quick right jabs. Rykopathe goes for a lockup, which Sterling quickly ducks and catches him with a stinging left jab. Rykopathe recovers and goes after Sterling, who quickly ducks outside the ring and runs to the opposite corner, sliding in. He rebounds off the ropes, as does Rykopathe, who goes for a clothesline. Sterling ducks and bounces off the oppsite ropes, only to get caught with a second clothesline from Rykopathe, sending him down hard. Sterling gets to his feet quickly, where Rykopathe grabs him by the hair and slams his head against the turnbuckle. Still holding Sterling's hair, Rykopathe runs to the oppsite corner, but Sterling guards against being slammed into the turnbuckle and elbows Rykopathe in the face. Sterling turns around quickly and locks both arms around Rykopathe's head, dropping down and impacting Rykopathe's jaw against his knee. Sterling drops down and makes a quick cover.] [One... Two.. KICKOUT!] Tim: Sterling with a near fall after that modified chin breaker! He won't win with a move like that, I know that much. Jeff: Don't be so sure, HE'S THE GREATEST! [Sterling looks at Storm, who assures him it was only a two count. Sterling turns his attention back to Rykopathe, who quickly locks the champion in an armbar. Rykopathe applies pressure as Sterling tries to get to the ropes. Rykopathe pulls Sterling forward and flips him in the air, dropping him. Ryko follows up quickly with an elbow to Sterling's ribs. Sterling gets to his feet and blocks a right hand from Rykopathe, kneeing him in the gut and executing a quick vertical suplex. Sterling drops an Austin-esque elbow across Rykopathe's chest, then another, and locks Rykopathe in a headlock.] Tim: Sterling is trying to keep Rykopathe grounded, and trying to wear him down. Jeff: Well, its a great strategy from the greatest! Tim: Great strategy? Yes, it definatly is. Rykopathe's at his best when he can get airborne; Sterling knows that and he's trying to counter him. [Rykopathe slowly gets to his feet and puts his arm around Sterling's head, dropping down into a jawbreaker. Sterling falls backwards, clutching his chin as both men get back up. Rykopathe slides outside the ring and drags Sterling by the leg over to the ringpost. Rykopathe slams Sterling's leg against the metal, causing the champion to yell in pain. Rykopathe does it one more time and climbs to the top rope, jumping off and dropping a knee onto Sterling's midsection. Rykopathe hooks Sterling's leg.] [One.. Tw..] Tim: Storm stopped the count!! What the fuck?!? Jeff: Better he screw Rykopathe than screw THE MAN! [Rykopathe breaks the cover and gets in Storm's face, yelling about him stopping at two. Sterling gets to his feet and spins Rykopathe around, catching him with a DDT. Lance backs away, sitting himself on the second rope. He shakes his head quickly and leaps off with a guillotine legdrop. Rykopathe quickly rolls out of the way, and Sterling hits the canvas. Rykopathe wastes no time and grabs Sterling by the hair, pulling him to his feet. He takes a step backwards, into the ropes and rebounds, leapfrogging Sterling and running into the opposite corner. Sterling turns around and drops to the ground, allowing Rykopathe to run over him and back to the other corner. Sterling hops to his feet and takes a quick step backwards before thrusting forward with a superkick, catching Rykopathe square in the jaw.] Tim: Hollywood Hangover! Jeff: It can be over now! PIN HIM!! [Instead of pinning Rykopathe, Sterling rolls outside the ring and walks over to the announce table. He grabs a folding chair and throws it in the ring, then takes another one and rolls back in. He does a "come and get it" gesture as he waits for Rykopathe to get up. Rykopathe turns his head just in time to duck a swing from Sterling, and pick up his own chair. The crowd goes wild as both men now circle each other, chairs in hand. They trade a few blows back and forth, each parrying the other's chairshot. Sterling goes to introduce Rykopathe's head to the chair, and Rykopathe takes it full on, dropping backwards. Sterling pulls Rykopathe to his feet and locks him in a front facelock. He twists around so Rykopathe is behind him, then locks his free arm around Rykopathe's head and drops down with a Hangman's Neckbreaker. Sterling goes for the pin.] [One....... Two......] Tim: Now Storm is making a slow count! What kind of bullshit is this?!? [Sterling gets right in Storm's face, warning him about trying to screw him over. Storm says something to Sterling, who responds by shoving Storm backwards. Sterling turns around and is met with a kick to the gut from Rykopathe, who quickly locks in and delivers a T-Bone Suplex. Rykopathe jumps over Sterling and leaps onto the top rope, leaping off with a modified Frog Splash and connecting perfectly.] [One... Two... THR-KICKOUT!!] Tim: Rykopathe was 1/4 away from walking out of here with the world title, thanks to his "Society's Downfall" and then "Vindiction"! Sterling kicked out at the last possible second! Jeff: And its a good thing he did, too! After all Sterling is the greatest!! Tim: Whatever. [Sterling rolls away from Rykopathe and slowly gets up. Rykopathe is waiting for him with another swift kick to the stomach. Sterling doubles over and Rykopathe leaps over him, trying to bring him down in a Sunset flip. Sterling waves his arms in the air, trying to counterbalance the move, and finally drops down with a punch to Rykopathe's face. Sterling clutches Rykopathe by the hair and starts to tear into him, throwing rights and lefts into his face until Storm pulls him off. Sterling breaks Storm's grip and starts hurling insults his way before turning back to Rykopathe. Sterling grabs Rykopathe's arm and whips him into the ropes. As he rebounds Sterling grabs him and lifts him into the air, in a military press. Sterling shows off his strength by bench-pressing Rykopathe for a good 20 seconds before dropping him face-first to the mat. Sterling picks up the steel chair and walks towards Rykopathe, but he is interupted by Storm, who tries to talk him out of it. Sterling sneers, turns around and clocks Storm over the head with the chair, getting a HUGE pop from the crowd.] Tim: OH MY GOD! Sterling hit Storm, the goddamn referee, with the chair! This match has no referee!! Jeff: Hey, it serves Storm right for trying to talk Sterling out of it. This isnt a match, this is a war! Tim: A war without a referee! [Sterling turns his attention back to Rykopathe, who has gotten to his feet. Sterling throws a right hand, which Rykopathe blocks and counters, sending Sterling staggering backwards. Rykopathe runs forward, jumps and swings around Sterling, dropping him with a Tornado DDT. Rykopathe is about to cover Sterling, but sees Storm layed out. Knowing it wouldnt do any good, Rykopathe picks Sterling up and sets him up on the top rope, climbing behind him. He locks both arms around Sterling's waist and German suplexes him off the turnbuckle. Sterling flips over and lands on his stomach, and avoiding breaking his neck from the impact. Rykopathe rolls over and walks over to Storm, who is still unconcious from Sterling's brutal chairshot. Rykopathe shoves Storm, trying to get him back on his feet. Slowly, veeery slowly, Sterling gets up, still dazed from Rykopathe's "Sharing the Pain". He sees Rykopathe trying to wake Storm and immediatly runs to him. Sterling grabs Rykopathe by the hair and drags him away from Storm, spinning him around before striking him hard in the stomach with a knee. Sterling raises a fist in the air, giving the "power to the people" sign, and locks Rykopathe in an inverted facelock. He tenses himself as he lifts Rykoopathe into a vertical suplex position, staggering backwards slightly but keeping Rykopathe in the air. Sterling does a quick turn and sits down, slamming Rykopathe. The crowd EXPLODES as Sterling finishes the Director's Cut.] Tim: DIRECTOR'S CUT!!! Jeff: ITS OVER!! ITS OVER!!! Tim: No its not, Storm is still out of it! There's still no referee! [Sterling walks over and kicks Storm slightly, trying to get him to wake up. Groggily, Storm staggers to his feet. Sterling looks at him and points to the downed Rykopathe, who hasn't gotten up after being hit with the Director's Cut. Sterling silently tells Storm to "Do what you have to do" and turns around. Storms stands still for a second, then spins Sterling around and locks him in a combination belly to belly suplex and reverse ace crusher. Storm quickly lifts Sterling up and tilts to one side, dropping to his knees and knocking the wind out of Sterling!] Tim: WHAT THE HELL?!? STORM HIT POP PERFECTION ON STERLING!! Jeff: Noooo!! He double crossed the greatest! NOOOOOO!! [Sterling is out cold from "Pop Perfection". Storm slaps Rykopathe in the face, getting him to rise to his feet. Rykopathe sees Sterling laying out cold and walks over, dropping down and making the cover.] Tim: Aw come on, it cant end like this! Jeff: NOOO! For the love of God, Sterling, KICK OUT! KICK OUT!!! [One.. Two.. THREE!! A fast count by Storm, as Sterling kicks out right afterwards.] Tim: Hey, that was a fast count!! That was a fucking blatant fast count from Storm!! Jeff: No!!!!!! [Storm looks at Sterling, then raises Rykopathe's arm in the air. With his free arm he motions for the bell to ring.] Nigel Rolston: Here is your winner, and NEW Hardcore Wrestling Federation Champion: J. SIMON RYKOPATHE!! Tim: What a farce. So THATS what Storm and Rykopathe had planned. This was a conspiracy all along, and that proves it! Jeff: HE SCREWED STERLING! I can't believe the son of a bitch. He fucking screwed "The Greatest!" [Storm grabs the world title and and hands it to Rykopathe. Rykopathe rolls outside the ring and holds the title up in the air, getting met with a chorus of boos from a pissed off crowd. Rykopathe walks up the ramp, flaunting the world title, as back in the ring Sterling realizes what happened. He spits in Storm's direction and rolls outside the ring, grabbing the microphone from Nigel.] Sterling: I warned you, you fucking dirtbag. After all that you still had the balls to pull a fast one on me. Not just hitting me with "Pop Perfetion", but by a fucking fast count, too. I knew I never should have trusted you. But you know what, Storm? Now its time I kept my part of the bargain. You remember what that is, right? Get ready to die, motherfucker. You and me, RIGHT NOW. Let's settle this bullshit once and for all. Tim: A challenge?!? Did Sterling just challenge Storm to a match, RIGHT NOW?? Jeff: Yes, he goddamn well did! KILL HIM LANCE, KILL HIM! Tim: I guess we're going to make it official: Sterling and Storm, right now! [Sterling yells for the bell to ring, which it does. He rolls back in the ring and is met with a series of stomps from Storm. Sterling gets to his feet and literally jumps Storm, knocking him backwards. Sterling starts hammering away at him, not releasing it for anything. There isn't even another referee in the ring...yet. From the back, HWF senior referee Roger Williams runs down and slides into the ring, and tries to pry Sterling off of Storm. Sterling finally gives in and gets off Storm, but he pulls him to his feet and whips him into the turnbuckle. Sterling pauses for a split second before running towards Storm, who instinctively gets a boot up and hits Sterling right in the face. Sterling turns around, holding his face as Storm hoists himself onto the second rope. Storm leaps off, catching Sterling with a super facecrusher. He quickly rolls Sterling over and makes the cover.] [One... Two... THR-KICKOUT!!] Tim: And Storm nearly got the win over the former champion! Jeff: It's not over till its over! And it wont be over until Lance Sterling beats Storm to a bloody pulp for SCREWING him out of the title! [Storm drops a quick elbow onto Sterling's chest. He grabs a fistful of Sterling's hair and pulls him to his feet, where Sterling stuns him with an elbow. Sterling quickly wrenches Storm's neck, dropping him to the mat with a swinging neckbreaker. Sterling takes a mounted position on Storm and goes back to hammering away at him. Sterling gets off Storm, pulling him to his feet at the same time, and lifts him into an Argentine Backbreaker. Sterling quickly spins to one side and falls backwards, slamming Storm against the mat.] Tim: Box Office Smash! The modified Olympic Slam! Jeff: Yes! Make him pay, Sterling! MAKE.. HIM.. PAY!!! [Sterling pulls Storm, still reeling from the Box Office Smash, to his feet. He Irish whips him into the ropes and knocks him down with a HARD lariat. Sterling gives a thumbs down motion, and hops backwards, clearly waiting for Storm to get up. Storm slowly gets to his feet, as Sterling takes a step forward with his superkick. Storm turns around just in time, and ducks the move. He grabs Sterling, locking his arm around his neck and going for "Pop Perfection", as Sterling shoves him away. Sterling steps backward and thrusts forward, again going for the "Hollywood Hangover". Storm catches his leg and spins him around, then kicks him in the gut. Storm hammerlocks Sterling, then wraps an arm around his head and drops down, for the second time tonight connecting with "Pop Perfection". He goes for the cover.] Tim: POP PERFECTION!! Jeff: STERLING YOU BETTER KICK OUT OF IT, or.. or... I'm turning in my Lance Sterling Fan Club Membership!!! Tim: So the truth comes out, eh? Jeff: Err... umm... I mean... JUST KICK OUT STERLING! [One... Two... THRE-KICKOUT!!] Tim: He kicked out! Jeff: Thank God! [Sterling gets back on his feet, and catches Storm with a hard right hand. Storm staggers back, to regain composure, as Sterling scoops him up, setting him in a belly to bell position, and drops him right on his head. Sterling makes a "thats it!" motion with his hand, and the crowd cheers as they know whats coming up next. Sterling pulls Storm to his feet and locks on an inverted facelock. Sterling lifts Storm up in the air, but the lighter Storm wriggles out of the hold and lands behind Sterling. He spins Sterling around quickly and cradles him, rolling him up. Roger Williams drops down to make the count... What he doesn't see is that Storm has both legs on the ropes, to give himself added leverage in keeping Sterling down, as well as having a handful of Sterling's tights!] Tim: HIS FEET ARE ON THE ROPES!! And he's got the tights! Talk about a crook! And Roger Williams doesn't see it!! Jeff [yelling to Williams]: Look at Storm, you moron! HE'S CHEEEEATING! [One...] Tim: NO! It can't end this way! Not after Sterling was screwed out of his title by Storm! [Two...] Jeff: For the love of God no! LOOK AT STORM! LOOK AT STORM! [THREE!!] [Roger Williams calls for the bell. Sterling's eyes go wide; he can't believe it. Neither can every single person in the arena, or Tim and Jeff for that matter. There is an eerie silence as everyone realizes what just happened, and then Storm is SHOWERED with boos from the crowd.] Tim: Twice in one night... Lance Sterling has been screwed twice in one night, all thanks to Jonathan Storm! Jeff [crying]: I can't believe it... he lost! The Greatest... lost! Tim: What a night. First he loses the HWF title thanks to that bastard, and now he's lost his pride and his dignity. Storm is a bastard, plain and simple. Jeff: Yeah, you son of a bitch! You screwed "The Greatest!" What'll happen to him now, Tim?? Tim: I don't know, Jeff. I just don't know... [Storm rolls out of the ring REALLY fast and walks to the back. The crowd doesn't take to it, and they begin to throw garbage at him. Back in the ring, Sterling slowly gets to his feet. He looks at Referee Roger Williams and gets up in his face, screaming about Storm cheating. Williams tries to calm him down, saying that he didn't see it, and he can't reverse the decision. Sterling scoffs at him and pushes him away, turning his eyes defiantly towards Storm, who has begun to mock Sterling by raising both hands in the air and yelling that HE'S now the greatest. Zoom in on Sterling's eyes, which are showing both the fire of anger and the icy coldness of defeat. He shuts his eyes as they cut back to the announce table.] Jeff: Wait, we're not finished?! What the?! At a time like this? [Jeff goes silent as the monitors have cut backstage. All you can see is a sideways shot of the ground. Across the ground, two shadows are slowly moving. It's hard to decipher the shadows though, until the camera re-focuses. You're now faced with Claire Matthews ...and guess who? Mr. Masked Man 'o Doom. Obviously it's not Lost Soul, but this man is with Claire, and she seems to be fighting, trying to escape.] Tim: GOD DAMN THAT MAN! He's caused enough trouble as it is... Jeff: I think he's my next hero... WOOOHOOO! Tim: How could you? [They continue walking down the backstage hallway, where you can clearly see Mr Masked Man is carrying the now-limp and exhausted Claire, and up ahead you can see a parking lot.] Jeff: Timster, who do you think this dude is? Tim: Well... I don't know for sure, actually. Whoever it is must pay! Hang on, you wouldn't think it's... Jeff: The Saint? Tim: ...no you goof. Lance Sterling! Jeff: LANCE?! Tim: Lance has been out of it recently... Jeff: Nah, it's the Saint, he hasn't shown up the last two events, so it's him, I'm sure of it... [Suddenly, the camera is rocked as a man with long black hair tears past the camera, screaming profanities. The man in black turns around with a shock. The Masked man receives some swift punches to the face before stumbling backwards and letting go of Claire. The man with long black hair is apparently Michael Trey.] Tim: GO TREY, get that piece of shit! [Trey then tackles the masked man down, who lands with a thud. Without flinching, Michael continues to beat him senseless. The Masked Man starts to try and feel around for a nearby weapon while being beaten, but to no avail - so he tries to roll over and escape. Trey then has the man around the throat, while grabbing the mask in a camel clutch sort of hold.] Michael: I'm gunna unmask you, you fucking bastard! [The camera then cuts to a behind view of Trey... how useful! And then...] Masked Man: IYAAYAH! [Trey holds the mask up as a prize, before clubbing the man in the side of the head, sending him down and on his back. Trey is straddling him with a look of shock on his face.] Tim & Jeff: Oh my god....it's.... [Sure enough, the man looks up at Trey with a smile... it's... Phoenix. Phoenix grins as Trey starts to go psycho, clubbing him with brutal punches that further tear up the already bloodied face of Phoenix.] Tim: GOD DAMN PHOENIX! Get him Trey! [Michael needs no encouragement as he grabs Phoenix, lifting him off the ground slightly. Trey headbutts him viciously and repeatedly until a slight cut appears above his right eye. Phoenix is bleeding profusely and Claire begins to plead with Michael to stop.] Claire: Michael! Come on... that's enough... let's go! [She touches Michael on the shoulder, but he shrugs her off and goes back to punching the hell out of Phoenix. Michael lays a hard punch into Phoenix and then stands, kicking him hard in the gut.] Claire: NO! Michael, stop it! That is ENOUGH! [She spins Michael around more forcefully by the shoulder, but he just looks at her with a 'what the hell are you doing' look and swiftly returns to kicking Phoenix, delivering a shot to the gut and then snapping a kick across his face. *CLINK*... the sound of metal hitting the ground rings out and Michael freezes, turning slowly to face Claire. She's crying now, tears running down her face.... the camera pans to the ground and finally you realize that it was her engagement ring that fallen to the ground. Michael's eyes drop to the floor and then spin up at Claire.] Michael: Claire... wha... what are you doing?! Claire: I said that was ENOUGH, Michael... I... I can't take this anymore. Michael: What?! Claire: Just... don't talk, Michael. I saw everything. I saw... I saw how you and Tempest were having an affair. I saw how you didn't even care I was gone. I still see it. You don't even care about me, you're just concerned about being 'golden', about being there for the fans, about LOOKING like you care for me. Michael: ... but Claire, I DO ca- Claire: No... you don't. Take your fucking ring back. I don't need it anymore. [Michael starts to plead with her for a second, but she won't talk. Some footsteps are heard from behind her, around a corner. She smiles evilly, but Michael doesn't hear the footsteps for a few moments. He finally looks up, and you can see is Trey staring at something with a extremely shocked look on his face.] Jeff: WHAT'S GOING ON NOW?! [Then out of nowhere, a white claggy spray is shot in Trey's face. Similar to the poison mist, the spray hits Trey, but this seems different... it's really thick and creamy, and hits Trey square in the eye.] Tim: EWWW! That's f'n gross! [Then you see a broom handle being struck into the stomach of Trey. Trey bends over and the Mist Sprayer steps into view. He's sporting an Ancient Kung-Fu Hong Kong shirt, the kind with huge cuffs on the sleeves and the huge bar-pins for buttons. He is also wearing Gi-style pants with Yellow flames at the bottom, matching the shirt. His face is still un-shown.] Mist Sprayer: Trey you fuck! [The man then pics Trey up over his shoulder, like for a Rikishi Driver, over his right shoulder, before with his left (which is still holding the broom) he puts the broom stick right under Trey's throat, who is still in a Rikishi Driver position, but with his head facing up a bit thanks to the broom.] Tim: OH Christ... I know who that is... Jeff: YES! YES! YES! EPWA, anyone? [Sure enough, the man holding Trey drops down, in a Rikishi Driver style fall, jamming - violently, the broom RIGHT UNDER TREY'S THROAT, which causes it to snap sickeningly. Trey bounces off at a awkward angle, instantly clutching his throat. The man then turns around. You know him, but he's sporting some dark eye shadow, and a small whiskey size bottle on his belt. He smiles as Phoenix finally gets up, wiping the blood from his face.] Tim: My god, this is wrong... Jeff: YES! He's BACK! Man: Trey, you thought you got rid of me, you forgotten piece of fuck. You were my friend, but you just suffered which I debuted in the EPWA, the Graphic Equalizer... When you wake up, you'll realize you got your ass kicked by me, I stole your woman, and, well... you got your ass kicked by me... Bisc Li. Tim: BISC LI?! Jeff: What the? Bisc Li: Yeah, you heard me, it's Bisc Li. I'm the Drunken Master... [Phoenix comes up to Bisc, both men backing away a little. Claire comes from the shadows where she ducked to when the fighting took place and stands over Michael. She holds the ring once again has wiped away the tears. All that remains is a painfully sad look. She mumbles something and then viciously throws the ring down at her fallen ex. She kicks him hard for good measure. Bisc grabs her arm, turning her around.] Tim: What the fuck is Bisc doing?! [Bisc grabs Claire roughly and, as Bisc would say, 'tounge-fucks' her hardcore. Phoenix turns away in mock disgust of the biggest kiss ever allowed on TV. Bisc and Claire separate, and after a split-second of silence, Claire grabs BISC and kisses him roughly back! Bisc swings away from this second kiss and Phoenix grabs Bisc by the hand, raising it like a referee as Bisc acknowledges his new partner.] Tim: TREY JUST GOT SCREWED... in more ways than ONE! Bisc & Phoenix: See you on Suicide, bitch... [With that, a large Monster Truck screeches into view. As Bisc, Claire, and Phoenix all hop into the back, Trey starts to come to. Michael tries to get to his feet, but stumbles and falls back to the ground in a puddle of his own blood. Bisc just flips him off and smooches Claire once more. The camera takes a quick zoom in look at the driver.] Tim: HOLY FUCK! [Holiday Hangover 3 comes to an abrupt close, and cuts to a promo for HWF's next PPV, simply entitled Seven. Immediately after, the screen cuts to black.]
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