 [December 24th, 2000 | 6:59 p.m.] [The preview channel counts down the final seconds before HWF's Holy Night, exclusively on Pay-Per-View, and then suddenly cuts to black. the copywright information fades onto the screen, remains there for a few seconds, and then fades out. An idle HWF logo fades in and out quickly, before cutting to a black screen once again. The screen is dark for a few moments, and no sound is heard. Slowly, the sound of wind blowing in the background becomes louder and the black screen lightens to reveal a Nativity scene. All of the traditional religious characters and symbols of Christmas are there… the star of Bethlehem,the angel Gabriel, Mary, Joseph, the Three Wise Men, the drummer boy, the shepherds and Jesus in the manger. The camera pans up to show a large wooden cross behind the Nativity scene, and two hands grasping the horizontal bars. The hands bend the cross backwards, making a small crunching noise, indicating the strain at the base of the cross. The hands continue to pull at the cross until more cracking is heard… and until the whole cross snaps out of its place. The cross is lifted into the air, showing a trail of snow and dirt fall to the ground where the base of the cross is still stuck, the dark wood standing out of the white snow like a beacon. The camera slowly pans back up from the ground to look up at the person holding the crucifix. Black dress pants with a defined crease… a black sports jacket with intricately carved black buttons… a bright red collar-less shirt… from the looks of it, it’s the Sinister Minister of ECW…but when the camera continues to the face, we find that Spike is Standing there with the cross slung over one shoulder (how Spike was able to get such a suit, no one knows…). Spike is staring up at the cross with a blank expression, turning down to look at the stump of cross still in the ground.] Spike: Wounds are made every day, some intentional, others by complete fluke. Whichever way they are caused matters not… vengeance must be followed, retribution must be sought, or else the wound will fester and infect like a disease. [Spike stops, tilting his head to the side as if he was straining to hear something inaudiable to everyone but himself. A corner of his mouth twitches upwards, and Spike turns his head to looks behind him. At this point, the camera zooms in to the background, to broadcast the image of a different man altogether, one that stands at just over six feet, with long brown hair and chilling blue eyes That man is Chris Davison.] Davison: To be wounded is to be human; to be human is to suffer. It's an endless circle and a vicious one, at that. You suffer, you inflict suffering. But there is no way to stop the cycle. [Focusing back to the foreground, it shows Spike as he readjusts the cross on his shoulder, tosses a glance up at it, and looks back to the camera.] Spike: Passion, heart, cold determination… these are qualities true champions posses. Each one of those golden traits cannot be held by mere men, and do not simply emerge at a whim… they must be bought by those who are a cut above the rest, with their bodies, their minds, and their sanity. To do what any one of us… ANY one of us do, one cannot be completely sane. Sanity is perfection—and no one is perfect… no one. [Spike passes the crucifix to Chris Thrilla who has been standing off to the right of the screen for nearly the entire time, dressed in the same type of suit, only his has a full collar, and is wearing a silver dragon pendant around his neck. The camera pans down to the plastic figure of Jesus in the manger, holding onto that image for a few seconds, and looks back up to Spike, who has a slight grin on his face.] Spike: Well… almost no one… there’s always an exception to every rule. [Zoom to the background.] Davison: Insanity... imperfection... common traits nowadays. Take a look at any human in the world and look upon their life. It's impossible to say that they've never done something that... wasn't exactly the right choice for that moment, something that they can only look back on and say "what was I thinking?" [The foreground replaces this scene. Spike kneels down, and pulls out a small, flat aluminum can from his pocket. Spike flashes the can in front of the camera, showing a small red “flammable” warning in one of the lower corners. He looks back at Thrilla, tossing him the can and blindly grabs at the figurines in the Nativity scene. He grabs hold of the manger containing the baby Jesus and lifts it right in front of his eyes a scant three inches from his face.] Spike: December 24, the eve of the coming of the Catholic God’s own son… the birth of a messiah… the approach of a shining savior… what could this sacred day have to do with a band of blood-thirsty, savage, extreme, hardcore personalities? Well, holy eves foreshadow holy days… which means that this night is our last chance to prove how cold and evil, how dangerous and deadly and how malicious and unforgiving we can possibly be before having to kneel down and pray for salvation. What can save someone prior to that instant of purity… is a mystery to each child, all teachers, and every god or goddess in every single corner of this universe. [Spike drops the manger and stands up, looking back over at Thrilla, who has tossed an empty aluminum can to the snow covered ground. In his right arm is the crucifix, simply dripping with a thick clear fluid. Thrilla passes the cross over to Spike who latches onto it with both hands.] Spike: Volatility is the key for a heated fight, just as fire is essential for warmth. Without one, there cannot be the other… [Background.] Davison: If there's anger in a soul, there must be the same warmth. Only when one is devoid of that fire can one be cold, emotionless. [Foreground. Spike drives the crucifix down to the ground, planting it directly in the center of the Nativity scene, scattering many of the plastic figurines. He reaches into his pocket, coming back out empty handed with a confused look on his face. He turns to Thrilla, who reaches into his own pockets, and pulls out a silver Butane lighter. He tosses the lighter into the waiting arms of Spike, who clenches it deeply in his fist. Spike pops the top of the lighter open and sparks a flame.] Spike: Let me demonstrate my point with an experiment… Here is an innocent symbol of Christianity – The Crucifix. Not much to look at, right? Well, in my hand here, is a lighter, ready to do what it was made to do. What’s the result? Well, that’s obvious enough, but something like this will just put us in the mood… [Spike touches the flame to the kerosene-soaked cross, sending it ablaze. The sudden burst of light and heat startles the cameraman, who stumbles back, nearly falling. He tries to readjust the camera, and focuses on the flames, watching them lick at the sky’s heels.] Spike: Just look at it… from the simplest of actions comes something so… beautiful, yet, so deadly. Many works of art can be like that, just look at Trevor Lasek’s Ultimate Death Match. So skillfully crafted, so ingeniously invented… so ready, willing and able to end a career… and a life. Trevor Lasek, former “Canadian Phatboy”… Renegade, former “Diamond Stud”… I wish you both the best of luck… you’ll need a hell of a lot of it to survive this match with your sanity intact. [Background, where Chris Davison watches the flaming cross, the reds and oranges dancing in the pools of ice blue that are his eyes.] Davison: But sanity isn't exactly a required tool, is it? Do we need a one-hundred-percent spotless record to be called human? Do we need purity for all walks of life? [The camera pans back to the burning crucifix just as a piece of the horizontal bar breaks off, weakened by the fire that surrounds it – Pan back up to Spike.] Spike: The sound of a bell signifies many things… an ending or a beginning… victory or defeat… but tonight, the sound of a bell will signify something much more heinous than the two-dimensional concepts people have grown accustomed to. [Dramatics pause.] Spike: Two men, Phoenix and Insomnia will fight for the Hardcore and King of Violence championship. One of them is extreme, the other is insane… can you guess which one is which? Well… each man has a little bit of both in them… in fact, they had better both have it, otherwise, their willpower will crumble, as will their hopes of winning that coveted championship. [Pan back to the cross, which is still burning. Another flaming horizontal chunk falls to the Nativity scene below, adding to the fire started by the first piece – pan back to Spike] Spike: A battle rages for Canada… or, more specifically, for the Canadian title. Seemingly overlooked by many, Chris “Intensity” Styles has become the champion of Canada. Rearing up from next to nothing, Styles captured gold for his waist and for his country, showing the intensity that was much more than hidden since now. Zakin, Gonzales, whichever name or champion from the past, is now attempting to reclaim his title. The Insider’s mind will have to be as clear as the glass he must put Styles through in order to emerge victorious tonight… [Background.] Davison: Cluttered spaces make for harsh movement. It's hard to move between jagged rocks. Mentally, one can't think straight if the rocks of past defeats are in the way. Losing once can make your mind believe that you can never win again. [Pan back to the cross, continuing to blaze with fire. It cracks under its own weight suddenly, and leans at an odd angle to the side, sending sparks and embers to the ground below – pan back to Spike] Spike: Tonight will be unholy, evil and deadly… another good word to describe this night could even be hellish. [Another dramatic pause.] Spike: A hell of men has always been known as a small, confined, dangerous, inescapable paradox of sanctuary from the outside world, and hell to all those trapped inside. A hell in a cell… one of the most devastating matches in creation – potentially career ending, potentially life-threatening… this IS the hell of men, in which three teams boldly enter… but only one may be allowed to leave with pride and glory. Teen Angst. Myself, Chris Thrilla… hell has been inviting for us both for our entire lives… yet, we still push forwards, away from our own personal hells, and into finally, a hell of another… where we enter with aspirations of escaping at the last. Twisted Circle… a strange alliance – a dysfunctional bond between Ethan Scruggs and Gavin Coens… former champions, who lost to Teen Angst… but held the titles one more week… only to lose them to the Anti-Heroes. Vic Williams and J. Simon Rykopathe. Two veterans of the HWF… Williams tends to show as much rage as I… for the most part… try to hold back. Rykopathe… an icon of hardcore…a legend in his own time… a master of pain, a master of suffering… and a master… of hanging by his neck. [Focus is sharpened to the background, as the figure's head lowers, brown hair cascading down his face.] Davison: Danger lurks at every turn, and then some. When you've gone everywhere else, the next place that comes is up... or down. When all is said and done, you float with the angels or burn with the devils. [Pan back down to the burning cross. A small portion of the top vertical bar falls off, burning even more of the Nativity scene – pan back to Spike.] Spike: Finally, the HWF heavy-weight championship… some say Rykopathe or Extreme… others say Sterling and… good old what’s his name… tornados are meant to be chaotic… but how much chaos can one person take? Will this match be a whirlwind of fury till it’s end, or will one man step up, and make order of the chaos? With the level of talent and strive pushed on with dreams of gold… everyone involved have their own ideas, and hopes, and wishes… Each man wants their dream to come true… four men fighting for different results, but altogether similar reasons… nothing, save deadly intervention will stop these monoliths of men from forcing themselves past their own limits… [Zoom to the background, where Davison's shadow is cast upon the far wall, flickering and dancing in time with the blaze ahead of him.] Davison: Limits are made to be broken. What wrestling has evolved to proves that. Gone are the days of a standing leg drop or a bodyslam putting someone down for a three-count. Now it takes sixteen-foot falls, multiple chair shots, forklifts to put someone down for a three-count, in some cases. And in ten years, at this rate, even those will be considered simple. What will happen tonight? Will it be a turning point in wrestling? Will more limits be surpassed? [Pan to the foreground.] Spike: December 24… Christmas eve… a holy time… saviors, champions, heroes… will be born unto our hearts before our very eyes. December 24… the last chance for anarchy… the calm of destruction before the storm of salvation… The most unholy of all nights… the most disturbing of all nights… the most insane, violent, sickeningly hardcore of all nights…What will come of this night will be unthinkable… inCONCEIVABLE to anyone who does not witness the deadly tidings for themselves… [The camera manages to focus both Davison and Spike in the same shot, albeit if they're both a bit blurry.] Spike & Davison simultaneously: What will come of this holy night? [Chris Thrilla clears his throat, almost destroying the ominous mood made by Spike. The camera takes a wide shot, capturing all three men.] Thrilla: If I may interrupt… I feel that it’s my public duty to lighten this situation. The way I see it, it’s good for people to laugh after they’ve cried… so, to the fans of the HWF, I bring to you... A “Thrilling” Christmas poem.
'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house
The wrestlers were nestled all snug in their beds,
When out in the parking lot arose such a clatter,
The moon on the puddle of the Phatboy's freshly squeezed blood,
I swung a steel chair; it connected with a clang,
"Now Dildo, now Ass Plug, now Porno and K-Y Jelly
With a whoosh and a breeze the homosexuals ran,
And then in a "Lights Out!" I heard from the rafters
But down from the chimney slid "The Greatest" Lance Sterling
His eyes began to water and his face began to pale
But from out of the laughter Phoenix came out with a ruckus,
Phoenix spoke not a word, Insomnia followed in suit
So Teen Angst was left standing, untouched as the norm [Thrilla ends with a warm smile, offsetting his cold eyes. The camera pans back over to Spike who is nodding in approval of the fitting Christmas poem. Both Davison and Thrilla walk up behind Spike, standing in perfect silence, opposite one another at Spike's shoulders.] Spike: d with that… Ladies and gentlemen… on behalf of Hardcore roductions, I am proud to announce the Hardcore Wrestling Federation’s drkening of a once bright and peaceful night… December 24th, the HWF brings to you all… *grins menacingly* HOLY NIGHT! [The camera pans down to the burning crucifix for the last time, paying only a short moment more on the disfigured symbol of God before panning even farther down to the blazing Nativity scene. The scne goes black for a few seconds, and then cuts to a mysterious close up of a candle burning a blue flame. The shot stays there for about 15 second or so, until you hear a child singing...] Child's Voice: Silent Night... [A half-fade type effect is shown, as you see Lance Sterling deliver the Director's Cut on Blackjack in front of the flame.] Child's Voice: ...Holy Night... [The half-fade goes to a shot of Vic Williams dropping Johnny Drake with a 3D.] Child's Voice: ...All is Calm... [The half-fade cuts to black, so only the candle remains. Suddenly, a crash is heard in the music, and Michael Trey doing a moonsault fades in.] Child's Voice: ...All is Bright... [A half-fade shot of Ethan Scruggs doing a Climax to some jobber os shown, immediately followed by a shot of Gavin Coen's Cardinal Syn on Chris Thrilla.] Child's Voice: ...Round yon Virgin; Mother and Child... [A half-fade shot shows a small clip of the forming of the Anti-Heroes. They circle around the group, until fading back.] Child's Voice: ...Holy Infant; so Tender and Mild... [A half-fade shot of Extream hitting Too the Extreme on Michael Trey is shown.] Child's Voice: ...Sleep in Heavenly Peace... [Lance Sterling and Michael Trey's faces half-fade onto the screen.] Child's Voice: ...Sleep in Heavenly Peace. [Extream and J. Simon Rykopathe's faces half-fade onto the screen next to them. Suddenly, and explosion goes off and the words "HOLY NIGHT" pop onto the screen in front of the flame and the faces. Under these words are the words "Christmas Eve, 2000". Everything in the shot flies at the camera and they cut to an outside shot of the St. Benedict Church in Jamestown, Pennsylvania. They fade into an inside shot, where the church looks half-normal/half-wrestling arena. The ring is in the very center of the church, with a Hell in a Cell hanging high over head. The HWF-Tron has somehow been put where the pastor usually speaks, with a weird looking entrance way underneath. You can't really tell where the aisles of rows are, because it looks like there are thousands of HWF fans standing up, crowded between the guardrail and the walls; all chanting "H-W-F, H-W-F". The shot cuts to the ring, where Tim Miller and Jeff Robinson stand alone. They wait for the noise to die down, and then address the crowd.] Tim: Happy Holidays HWF fans... and WELCOME TO HOLY NIGHT!! [HUGE, EAR-BREAKING pop for the show start.] Tim: What a show we have for you tonight, it's sure to be another HWF classic... headlined bt Rykopathe and Extream vs. The X-Treme Allance!! [Another bigtime pop, for the mention of the main event. Tim continues.] Tim: Well, we have a lot to do tonight, so let's just get on with it... I'm Tim Miller... [The crowd begins stirring as Jeff raises his mic in the air.] Jeff: And I'm the man of the hour, the lyrical power, too sweet ot be sour... Jeff "Instead of being with family, you fans are out here with us, so if you brought your mother, I will try not to cuss... But when women look so good, that I want to lick them like a sucker, I just contain myself, when saying I'm one BAD motherFUCKER!!" [HUGE pop, even fro mthe old ladies in the crowd.] Jeff: ...Robinson. [Another HUGE pop from the crowd, followed by "The Memory Remains" by Metallica blasting over the PA system. Tim and Jeff look towards the entrance way, and quickly scurry to their seats. Silver and gold strobe lights flash all around the building as the reigning HWF Champion, Lance Sterling, makes his presence known. He's wearing full wrestling attire, with the HWF title slung over his right shoulder. Lance walks towards the ring, stopping to slap some fans' hands. He quickly gets in the ring and climbs to each turnbuckle, raising the HWF title high above his head to a loud crowd pop. The music dies down as Sterling grabs a mic.] Lance Sterling: Christmas Eve...and on top of that, the night that Michael Trey and I put an end to those two fossils, Extream and J. Simon Rykopathe. Compare what you have here. You have two of the greatest wrestlers to ever step into the ring, that's Trey and I. Then you have two guys who should have retired and gone to the old folks' home quite a few years ago, but by some miracle they still seem to think they can compete today. That, of course, being Extream and Rykopathe. Now, I won't deny that you two used to be legends here. Hell, both of you are former HWF champions. But....that's nothing. Trey and I have together held this title more times than both you two combined. But you still think you're gonna manage to win. WHO ARE YOU TRYING TO KID?!? [Laughs and cheers from the crowd. Sterling continues.] Lance Sterling: Let me tell you just what's going to happen later tonight. You two will come down to the ring, then Trey and I will come down. We'll start off by beating you two all around this are...err all around this church, and we'll finish it off by beating the two of you within an inch of your lives. Then, we'll pin you and that..will be that. You two are finished, I still have my HWF title, and Trey and I get an immediate tag title shot at next week's Saturday Suicide. So you see boys, you've lost already. You might have been good once, but not now. Take a good look at Trey and I; we're the new generation. We're the ones with all the talent. And, more importantly Extream... and Rykopathe, we're the ones who are winning right here tonight! [Sterling raises the title above his head again as his music hits. He parades around the ring in typical Sterling-fashion before climbing through the ropes and walking back, again slapping some fans hands and of course holding the title in the air.] Jeff: What a pleasant surpirse that was!! Tim: Oh, here we go already... Jeff: What!?! Tim: Nothing... as I said before, we have a lot to do... so let's get on with it... Jeff: Fine... what's up first!?! Tim: Um... I believe it's the Battle Royale... [An unfamiliar song begins to play over the speakers in the church. Gradually, it becomes recognizable... the UNKLE remix of "The World Is Not Enough". Silver lights flicker over the darkened church, adding to the already eerie vibes. Michael Trey steps out into the entrance and up to the ring; he's still wearing his street attire, a black pair of jeans, tight white t-shirt under a black leather coat, and backwards black UNC fitted cap, complete with a slick pair of silver Ray-Bans. Michael grabs a chair and sits down in it, backwards, taking his Ray-Bans off. The lights get darker as the music seemingly ends in an eerie tone. Just when it seems over, it comes back again, different this time.]
~ I feel safe... [Michael pulls a microphone from his jacket as the music finally ends and the lights return. He sits, leaning forward and running his hand through his hair, very quiet and contemplatively. Once the crowd is quiet, he finally speaks.] Michael: Ladies and gentlemen... I would just like to thank you. [Silence.] Michael: You see, tonight I am out here to officially celebrate my first year in HWF. I debuted with Maxx Power to face J. Simon Rykopathe on December 23rd, 1999, and that was the start of my career. Now I wish we had time to go over every single match I have had in the past year, but it's just not possible with our time constraints. Let me get out the list of opponents I've beaten though... [Trey pulls out a roll of paper tied by a string and unties it. It falls all the way to the mat, and he smiles as the crowd laughs. He begins to read, serious this time.] Michael: In the past year, I've faced men like "The ICON" J. Simon Rykopathe, Lukas Williams, Malice, Brett Logan, Thunder... - *deep breath* - ...Chris Goings, Jayson Starr, Nick Diamante, Phoenix, The Saint, Gavin Coens, Ethan Scruggs, John Justice, Lance Sterling, Justin Storm, Extream, Blackjack, and even the legend most associated with HWF's history, "Vicious" Vic Williams. I have... [Trey is interrupted as the crowd starts to applaud loudly. He stops and smiles once again, shaking his head. They quiet once again.] Michael: ... I have watched the fed grow from a tiny operation that could barely get men to show up for the first tourneys to hand out titles all the way to the major operation it is today. I have seen the staff grow from the one man wrecking crew of Chaz Manson all the way to the current four-man operation. I guess what I am trying to say is that my wrestling career has become so intertwined with the HWF's that, as I pause and look back on my first year, I realize that this is my home, and I thank you for letting that happen. [Applause.] Michael: And this is why I have to let you know that I also cannot believe what I have been forced to endure these last two weeks. Give me a goddamned break, Collins. "Super Sexy" Diablo El Dildo and Mike Hunt? When I signed over my career for six weeks, I realized that you would do everything in your power to make it the worst six weeks in my career. I didn't realize that you would do this. You're not just destroying me. You're making a mockery of the HWF and all the men in the back and the men I listed earlier. I also know that you're going to make my match tonight the worst yet. So I tell you this, Collins... bring your worst. Bring your best. And bring my contract... [The lights go out and on the screens, we see some footage. It's Trey's attacker and Claire Matthews?! She's tied to a chair, and the person is standing next to her. The attacker brings a voice box to his or her throat, making the speech unrecognizable.] ?Attacker?: Now Claire, you are obviously upset that you've been taken from Michael twice now, and I don't blame you. But Claire, you also have to realize that Bisc and I aren't doing this to hurt you. Trey is delusional and out of control. If you can't see this on your own, I will show you. [The attacker gently brushes Claire's face with a gloved hand, but Claire jerks her face away violently.] ?Attacker?: I see that you aren't going to believe me. Maybe not, but perhaps you'll believe Michael. [The attacker walks to a small boom box, sitting on a table just out of camera range, and clicks it on. At first, there is silence. Michael begins to speak and it is recognizable. It is from a few weeks back when he spoke to Trevor Lasek... but it has been edited.] Michael [on tape]: Listen to me Lasek. // I don't have any reason to // try and get Claire back. // I'll give you one minute to give me a good reason // to. // She is some skany whore with no meaning in the HWF. [The tape goes silent once again.] ?Attacker?: You see Claire... Michael isn't even trying to save you. [A single tear runs down Claire's eyes, a tiny glimmer of hope now missing from them as the scene fades out. The lights return in the ring and Trey is gone, already running to the back.] Tim: And what the hell was that!? Jeff: Well, I think that Claire just learned that Trey is a scumbag and she needs to leave his ass behind. Tim: What the hell are you talking about? Jeff: I'm telling the honest truth. Tim: Well, to kick off this explosive Pay Per View Event, it's time for the Number One Contender match for the HWF Canadian Title! Jeff: Storm = Next Canadian Champ! Tim: Yeah, I figured you'd be rooting for the hypocrite… Jeff: Oh, and I suppose you have a better idea of who's gonna win, huh!?
 ["Indestructible" by the Matthew Good Band hits the speakers, and the bass riff sends the crowd to their feet as Chris Davison appears in the entranceway, cutting off Jeff and Tim's argument. He walks to the ring, reaching in to tag quite a few fans' hands. He reaches the ring and steps onto the apron, then onto the turnbuckles, playing to the crowd and receiving a decent pop. He hops off of the turnbuckles and then leans on the ropes, looking vaguely nonchalant.] Tim: Here's newcomer Chris Davison, who is making his HWF Pay Per View debut here at Holy Night! [The lights dim as "Empty Spaces" by Fuel kicks up. The crowd gives a pretty good size pop, as Sean Newcastle makes his way out onto the ramp. He is wearing a Gold Silk, button up shirt with the top two buttons un-buttoned, showing his white wifebeater. He has on black silk/leather looking type pants, with black boots. He is sporting a pair of black sunglasses as he makes his way to the ring. He slides in as Davison backs away, and climbs a turnbuckle for more cheers from the fans. He takes off his shirt revealing the rest of his wife beater. He then jumps back down and looks over at Davison, the two exchanging a heavy stare.] Jeff: And here's "Dumb Ass" Sean Newcastle, who we haven't heard from for awhile. Tim: It's "Smart Ass", but I have to agree with you on the last part… [The buzzing crowd slowly dies down, as the lights in the arena dim, "One More Road to Cross" by DMX starts up as the dare-devilish moves of Jack Daddy flash upon the HWF-Tron. Pyro's are shot from the boarders of the HWF-tron, as the chorus begins. Strobe lights engulf the stage as the audience is drowned in darkness. Jack Daddy appears with Kristi clinging to his side, to a large pop, and if listen closely you can hear a soft chant of "JACK-DADDY". But the cheers quickly turn to jeers as the two start taunting the crowd. Jack Daddy slides into the ring as Kristi walks around to in front of the announcers table, as Jack Daddy runs at Newcastle and gives him a few quick punches to the face, and Davison walks over as all three men start to brawl with one another.] Tim: The match has only 1/3 of the people that are participating, yet the action is already starting! Jeff: Yeah, we still don't have the Number One Hit yet! Tim: Ugh…just call the match… [Davison knocks Daddy into the corner, then sends Newcastle into the ropes. Newcastle comes running back and the two catch each other with a HUGE double clothesline. All three are down as suddenly 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 straight towards Jack Daddy, and his music dies down. The two start exchanging fierce punches, when all of a sudden 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 "What If". Rickey Williams walks through the entrance, surveys the audience, and starts to walk calmly down the rampway. As he reaches the ring he slides in, then runs towards Corman and starts exchanging punches with him, as Jack Daddy joins in and all three men start brawling. Davison and Newcastle are now up, and join in with the other three, making it a five-man free for all.] Tim: Look at this! All five men are completely beating the living shit out of each other! Jeff: Now this is what we came to see goddammit! [As all five men still punch away at each other, the lights in the arena go out as the techo sound of Rob Zombie's "Dragula remix" hit loudly throughout the arena. Blue, Red and Purple spotlights flash on and off all around the arena almost like a dangerous lightning storm. Strange voices echo quietly in the song as the tune of the music begins to pick up. As the music builds up all lights go off leaving the ring in pitch-blackness while only blue strobe lights flash down on the ramp revealing a large man crouched down on one knee on the stage. As Rob Zombie begins to "sing" Mayhem begins to slowly rise to his feet. Walking slowly down the ramp he stops as the music hits a strange stutter…then with an incredible burst of speed Mayhem bolts down to the ring as the song hits it chorus. Sliding into the ring he quickly stand and roars loud. Davison and Newcastle look over at him and run to him, but Mayhem catches both men in a double clothesline. Mayhem then stands back to his feet and begins to punch at Jack Daddy, Corman, and Rickey Williams. All four men continue to wildly punch at each other, when all of a sudden "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 jets down to the ring. Newcastle stands back up and goes to punch Storm, but Storm ducks and then sends Newcastle over the ropes with a clothesline, with both of Newcastle's feet hitting the floor.] Jeff: YES! Storm's already knocking people outta the ring! Tim: Sean Newcastle has been eliminated from the match by Jonathan Storm! [Storm turns around and is met with a huge clothesline from Mayhem, smacking the mat hard. Storm then rolls under the bottom rope and stumbles over to the announcers table as "Lakini's Juice" hits the speakers and Billy Williams emerges from the back and starts making his way quickly down to the ring. Davison can be seen hitting Mayhem with a superkick as Jack Daddy climbs a rope and missile dropkicks Corman. Rickey Williams meets Billy as he slides in the ring, as Davison and Mayhem slowly get to their feet. The Williams brothers team up, hitting Davison and Mayhem with a double clothesline, then hitting Jack Daddy and Kyle Corman with another double clothesline. The Williams brothers are picking up Jack Daddy for a double chokeslam when out of nowhere Night Stalker slides into the ring behind the unsuspecting Rickey Williams. Billy is occupied with Jack Daddy as Night Stalker low blows Rickey, then uses a snapmare to throw Rickey Williams over the top rope, and both his feet hit the floor!] Tim: And Rickey Williams has been eliminated from the match by Night Stalker! Jeff: Yep…two down, six to go, Storm to win! [Storm slides back into the ring and bulldogs Billy Williams to the mat, then stands up and dropkicks Night Stalker with Stalker facing away from him. Storm then picks Davison up and leads him over to the corner and pummels him a little, as Corman suddenly runs towards the corner that both men are in. Storm moves at the last second as Corman collides with Davison hard, then Storm rushes over and hits both men's heads together. Davison and Corman fall to the floor as Mayhem and Jack Daddy are duking it out on the other side of the ring. Mayhem sets Jack Daddy up for a suplex, but Jack Daddy blocks it with his foot against Mayhem's leg, then Jack Daddy lifts Mayhem up and suplexes him into the corner, Mayhem's back hitting it with a smack. Jack Daddy then turns to taunt the crowd, but is met with a kick to the chest from Billy Williams. Jack Daddy bends forward, then Billy hits Jack Daddy with a neckbreaker drop onto the mat.] Tim: Look at this action! What an opener so far for Holy Night! Jeff: It's still not over yet, dumass… [Storm walks over to Billy Williams, and the two tie up. Storm wrenches Williams arm and then steps behind him, Williams reverses it and then pulls Storm into a belly to belly suplex that didn't go overhead. The two men get up slowly, as Night Stalker picks up Davison. Night Stalker puts Davison in a front chancery, but Davison lifts up and sends Night Stalker over the ropes and both his feet hit the floor! Davison then looks over and sees Storm run over to him, Davison quickly gets out of the way but collides with the referee. The ref falls over as Storm looks back to Davison, who jumps onto Storm's shoulders and flips back with a hurricanrana on Storm. Davison stands back up and Williams, who was previously leaning against the turnbuckle, sends Corman straight towards Davison. Davison, with a quick decision, bends down and sends Corman over the ropes with a back body drop. Corman grabs onto the ropes without having his feet hit the floor, as Davison doesn't notice. Jack Daddy is now up and points over to Corman, and Davison turns around. Corman hops up to the apron with a great show of agility, then springboards over the ropes and bulldogs Davison on the way down.] Tim: Did you see that!? Corman was almost eliminated from the match! Jeff: He'll be out in a matter of minutes anyway… Tim: Night Stalker was also eliminated from the match after a very short time in… [Jack Daddy turns around to meet Storm and Williams exchanging rights to the face. Jack Daddy bounces himself off of the ropes, then dropkicks both men. Williams goes flying over the ropes, and his feet do hit the church floor, but Storm holds onto the ropes and flips himself back into the ring Shawn Michaels style. Jack Daddy doesn't notice as he walks over to Mayhem who is still favoring his back after that suplex into the turnbuckle. Jack Daddy picks Mayhem up and then jumps up to hurricanrana him, but Mayhem stops him and powerbombs him to the floor. Mayhem then picks him up and digs his fingers into Jack Daddy's back, eventually drawing blood with the cheap maneuver. Jack Daddy yells in pain as Mayhem then picks Jack Daddy up into the air and places him on the top rope, then jumps up there himself and snap DDT's him from the spot, both men shaking the canvas as they hit the mat. Mayhem then stands back up and picks Jack Daddy high up into the air, and shovels him out of the ring, flying over the top rope and hitting the floor. The camera then focuses on Corman, who is pummeling Davison while on top of him. Mayhem walks over to the men and picks Corman up from the back of the neck, then throws him up into the air and grabs his neck on the way down and choke powerbombs him.] Tim: Choke powerbomb by Mayhem, who is, right now anyway, in control of this match. Jeff: Yeah, it would seem like Mayhem has a good chance of winning right now, wouldn't it? Tim: Why wouldn't it? Jeff: But why would it? Tim: Are you watching the same match that the rest of us are!? [Storm is now to his feet in the corner, as Mayhem starts to walk over to him. Out of nowhere, Davison trips Mayhem, who falls on his face. Storm runs over and slides into Mayhem's head, knocking him straight between the eyes. Storm stands back up and looks over to Davison, who taunts Storm to bring it. Storm walks over to Davison and the two grapple, Davison gaining the upper hand. Davison knocks Storm in the gut then backs up against the ropes, then catapults himself at Storm, hitting him with a cross body block. The two fall to the mat as the camera focuses on Mayhem, who is laying his fists into Corman's head. Mayhem backs Corman up, then throws him against the ropes and clotheslines him to the mat. Mayhem then starts to pick Corman up, but Corman punches him in the gut DDT's him. Corman picks Mayhem back up and sets him up for another DDT, but Mayhem suddenly lifts his head up and grabs Corman's neck and lifts him high in the air, edging towards the ropes. He finally leans over the ropes and chokeslams him out of the ring, Corman's back hitting the floor with a thud!] Tim: The Canadian Kid has been eliminated from the match, making this a three way dance for the Canadian title! [Davison and Storm are back to their feet and are exchanging weak punches. Davison finally takes control by hitting Storm in the gut, then Davison shoves Storm into the corner, chops him hard across the chest, and again, and a third time. He pulls Storm out from the corner a bit, kicks him in the stomach, hooks on a front chancery, and then runs up the turnbuckles for a springboard tornado DDT.] Tim: And Davison capitalizes on Storm with that amazing Tornado DDT! Jeff: I swear to God... you're like a runaway three-assed elephant from WCW… Tim: What!? [Davison stands back up and meets Mayhem, and the two exchange a few punches. Mayhem backs off a little bit, then motions for Davison to bring it over near the ropes. Davison charges Mayhem immediately, letting a flurry of fists go aimed straight for his face. Mayhem fires back and Davison is starting to get beaten down, and Mayhem grabs him by the hair. Davison unloads with a hard right to the stomach that knocks the wind out of Mayhem, and follows up with a leaping scissorkick to the back of his head. ] Tim: And Davison has the match in the palms of his hands! Jeff: Wait for it… Tim: What's that supposed to mean? Jeff: You'll see… [Storm gets back to his feet and exchanges some punches with Davison, as Casey "Sunshine" Band can be seen walking down the ramp, getting a few boos as she walks around the ring looking up at the match. Storm throws Davison into the ropes that are on Band's side, who trips Davison. Davison looks back at her and yells a few words at her, when Storm sneaks up behind Davison's back and starts off with liftin ghim up into a back drop position, but then swings him back around and powerbombs him to the mat. Storm stands back up as Mayhem runs towards him, but Storm superkicks Mayhem in the jaw. Storm then turns around and runs against the ropes, then springboards himself on the top rope and flips into the air, attempting an asai moonsault on both men. Mayhem moves at the last second and Storm hits the mat, but slides unvoluntary under the top rope and out of the ring. Mayhem stands back up and meets Davison, and Mayhem kicks Davison in the gut hard. Davison bends forward as Mayhem stuffs him into a standing head scissors, but Davison lifts his head and catapults Mayhem over the ropes into the barricade, with Mayhem's feet hitting the church floor no doubt.] Tim: Davison has won the match! Jeff: He has not dumass! Storm was never eliminated! [Davison raises his hands in victory and gets a huge pop, when Jon Storm slides back into the ring and reverse DDT's Davison. Storm picks Davison back up and then sets him up for a reverse russian leg sweep, but Davison elbows him in the face. Davison then plants Storm with an Implant DDT, then turns to springboard moonsault him. Right before Davison's feet touch the ropes, Casey Band grabs Davison's feet and pulls him under the bottom rope!] Jeff: YES! STORM WON!!! Tim: HE CHEATED!!! Jeff: Shut the fuck up monkey bitch ass ho, Storm won the god damn match fair and square! [Davison stands back up out of the ring and starts yelling in Casey's face. Casey starts to back up as Davison moves towards her, still yelling about the match, when Storm suddenly comes flying over the top ropes with Swanton Bomb, knocking Davison to the church floor!] Jeff: Did you see that!? Davison was whining about losing and Storm shot over the ropes knocking Davison to his ass! Tim: Davison should have won the match! Storm blatantly cheated! ["Papercut" by Linkin Park hits the speakers as Storm stumbles to his feet and grabs Casey's hand, and then two rush up the ramp, with Storm still holding his hands in victory as Davison starts to follow him up the ramp. Just as the two reach the entrance way, "Intro" by DMX hits the speakers as a lot of cheers from the crowd spring up. HWF President, Johnny Drake, steps out from the back getting a huge ovation from the crowd. He nods, and then makes his way down to the ring and walks up the steel steps, then gets into the ring still getting a huge amount of cheers from the crowd.] Tim: And here's the HWF President Johnny Drake, but what do you think he's doing down here? Jeff: Eh, maybe he's looking for another beating from someone. Tim: (Sighs) Whatever... [Johnny looks around the crowd a little bit, then exchanges a few words with the ring announcer and gets a mic.] Johnny Drake: Now, I have a little surprise that I don't think anyone was expecting right now... [A small pop from the crowd for no apparent reason springs up, but quiets down quickly.] Johnny Drake: Well, I don't want to waste too much time here, so let me get straight to the point. I'm down here to introduce the newest addition to the HWF Staff... Tim: What!? Jeff: Another one!? Where the hell are these guys coming from!? Johnny Drake: Let me introduce to the HWF fans, the newest member of the HWF exectuive Staff... Tre Coleman!! [The crowd looks up to the entrance as the first few chords of P.O.D.'s "Rock The Party" hits the speakers. As the song gets into the heavy part, a man wearing a gray suit steps out from the back, who is obviously new HWF Staff member Tre Coleman. The crowd doesn't make any sound, as they don't know exactly what to expect, as Tre makes his way down to the ring and climbs up the steel steps, then gets in the ring. He shakes Johhny's hand, and then gets the mic from him and raises it up as the crowd stays quiet.] Tre Coleman: Sup? [Cheap pop from the crowd as usual, as Tre smiles and continues.] Tre Coleman: Hell, I don't wanna waist any time here, I know everyone wants to get to the other matches so I'll cut this short. I've been behind the scenes here for awhile, no one knowing except the guys on the staff. I'm here to help this corporation expand and develop, even from the current status of it, which is already way ahead of any other place you could find. Joining Chaz, Johnny, Shawn, and Bisc...when he comes back, anyway...on the staff here is kick ass, and I'm here to help them take this shit farther than the next level of entertaining you people out there. It's an honor to be working around here with the guys in the back, and just being here in front of all of you is awesome. Just being here and helping out the rest of the guys, who we all know are busy, is great, and whatever I can do to make this a better experience for you people is what I am going to do here. [Pop from the crowd, as Tre smirks and says a few words to Johnny, which can't be heard. He laughs a little bit, then continues.] Tre: So the main thing I want to do here is help entertain, plain and simple. Throughout the rest of my time here, which hopefully should be until the last HWF show ever, I want to make this more exciting for you people, and just make it a better federation in any way that I can, and it's also cool that I get introduced here on my birthday, Christmas Eve. Now, I know everyone wants to see the rest of the show so...thank you, and enjoy the rest of HWF Holy Night! [The crowd cheers as "Rock The Party" kicks back in, and Tre and Johnny exchange a few more words. Tre then hands the mic back to the ring announcer, as Tre and Johnny both climb out of the ring and make their way to the back.] Tim: So now we have a new addition to the HWF staff, Tre Coleman! Jeff: Yeah...I wonder if he's as much of an asshole as most of the other guys on the staff are... Tim: Well I think he will make a great addition to the HWF staff and help this industry expand and grow. Jeff: How much ass can you kiss in one night!? Damn, man! [The camera cuts backstage. Chris "Intensity" Styles steps out of his dressing room, hyped up for his upcoming match against David Zakin. Styles only walks a few feet away from his dressing room when "The Canadian Killah" Chris Thrilla bumps into him and gets right up in his face. The two stare down for a while as Spike makes his way to the volatile scene.] Spike: Okay, let's all cool dow- Thrilla: Shut up Spike. Not now. Styles: What the hell do you want Thrill? I've got a match to get to. Thrilla: Shut your fucking face for a second Styles. Let's get some things straight. I hate you. I DESPISE you. I want to rip out your heart and feed it to my dog. I want to stick your head up Mayhem's ass so when he wipes he can take your head clean off. But tonight, Holy Night, a miracle truly will occur. [Thrilla sticks his hand out for a handshake. Styles looks hesitant at first, but shakes his hand. The crowd pops and the ovation is audible all the way backstage.] Thrilla: Kick Zakin's ass out there, or I'll kick yours. Styles: Hang Ryko's ass out there or I'll hang yours! [Thrilla smirks, as does Styles. Spike stares in amazement as he just witnessed something he never thought would happen. Styles leaves for the ring.] Tim: Strong words from Chris Styles... ["Walk" by Kilgore begins to play over the HWF speakers and the lights go out. The crowd is going absolutely nuts. Various matches of Zakin begin to play over the titan-tron. Suddenly, a big and loud explosion of red pyro goes off. Another one goes off and lights come back on with Zakin standing in the middle of the stage area with his hands raised high. The crowd gives him a nice pop. Zakin looks back and out comes Zakin's manager Jon E. Karman. Jon E. comes out blowing his whistle like crazy to get the crowd going. At this point, everyone in the arena is on their feet for Jon E. and Zakin. Zakin walks down and slaps a few hands on the way. Zakin slides under the bottom rope and stands in the middle of the ring. He raises his fists high in the air once more. The crowd gives him another pop. Zakin slides out of the ring and begins to look under it for something.] Tim: And here’s David Zakin, former Canadian champion who actually lost it to our current Canadian champion, Chris “Intensity” Styles. Zakin is here to regain that title, and the winner of this match will have to face Jonathan Storm in an upcoming Saturday Suicide! Jeff: It really doesn’t matter who wins this match, because The Impact has that belt won already! Tim: Do you actually believe that Jon Storm is god? Jeff: Nah, Sterling is god, but Storm is the next best thing! Tim: Ugh… [Zakin is still digging under the ring as Styles makes his slowly way from the back. He has a twenty foot ladder under his left arm, a barbed wire wrapped hockey stick in his right and the HWF Canadian Title around his waist. He stops at the top of the ramp, taking a look around the vast inside of the church. A smile produces upon his face. Just then yellow and silver pyro-techniques EXPLODE all around him. As the pyro-techniques die down Styles emerges from the smoke still smiling with great excitement and anticipation of his match. Styles makes his way down the ramp towards the ring pointing the stick at Jon E., who is in the ring, and yelling some type of threat. Styles eventually arrives at the ring, throwing the ladder on the ground and sliding into the ring with the hockey stick, his title belt still around his waist. Styles drops the belt from around his waist as the bell sounds, and looks down at Zakin who is still digging under the ring.]
 Jeff: And here’s our current Canadian champ, who faces the chance of losing it to Jonathan Storm! Tim: (Sighs) This is Chris “Intensity” Styles, our current Canadian champion who’s here to fight David Zakin, so let’s get this match underway! [Finally, Zakin slides back into the ring with a barbed wire chair in his hands. Zakin comes charging at Styles with the barbwire chair and then takes a giant swing. Styles ducks and tries a clothesline with the barbed wire hockey stick, but Zakin ducks that. Zakin elbows Styles in the gut, doubling him over, then Zakin nails Styles in the back with the barbwire chair, pulling off a huge amount of Styles’ back. Zakin drops the chair then leads Styles over to the turnbuckle and lays a few punches to Styles’ face. Zakin then Irish whips Styles into the ropes and runs at him, landing a HUGE neckbreaker drop onto the glass canvas, the impact of Styles’ head hitting the glass echoing throughout the church!] Jeff: Damn! Did you hear Styles’ head smack the glass like that!? Tim: Neckbreaker Drop on the glass by David Zakin! You know the Canadian champion is hurting badly right now! [Zakin stands up and stomps on Styles a few times, the impact of Zakin’s boot hitting Styles’ back can be heard. Zakin then slides back out of the ring as Styles lies in the ring, with a little cut above his eyebrow bleeding. Zakin digs under the ring once again, and comes back out with a table, much to the crowd’s enjoyment. He sets it up outside the ring, as Styles is now standing up and taunting Zakin to come back in. Zakin slides back in as Styles bounces off the ropes, and as Zakin stands up Styles hits a facecrusher coming off the ropes onto Zakin’s face.] Tim: I think Zakin’s nose was broken right there! Jeff: I hope so… [Styles stands back up and rests against the ropes as Zakin stands up slowly, holding his nose which has blood trickling down from it. The two stare each other down a little, then they tie up in the middle of the ring. Zakin goes to Irish wipe Styles into the far corner, Styles reverses and Zakin hits the turnbuckles violently, slumping down to the floor. Styles, seeing an opportunity to attempt a quick victory walks over to the corner, grabbing Zakin’s hair, and climbing the turnbuckles, pulling Zakin behind him while setting up for an inverted superplex. Styles attempts to lift Zakin for the move, but Zakin blocks the attempt. Styles tries again and once again Zakin blocks it. Styles punches Zakin in the ribs causing him to let go of the ropes he was using to block then lifts Zakin for the move. Zakin violently shakes his arms and legs, putting Styles off balance who in desparation performs a spear-like tackle to Zakin while still on the top rope, sending both men through the table Zakin had set up outside the ring. Both men are out, and the table is totaled.] Tim: God! Did you see that! Chris “Intensity” Styles just sent himself and “The Insider” David Zakin through that table from the top rope! Both men are out! Jeff: Damn man, the hell was Styles thinking!? [Styles and Zakin are still down as Jon E. comes over to check on Zakin. He helps Zakin up, as Zakin tries to shake it off. Jon E. backs away as Zakin picks Styles up and rolls him back into the ring and slides in himself right after him. Zakin stands up as Styles leans against the opposite turnbuckle. Zakin walks towards Styles, Styles out of nowhere gives Zakin a powerful right to the face. Zakin and Styles start duking it out in the middle of the ring. It is going back and fourth, lefts and rights until Zakin eventually gains the advantage and beats Styles into a corner, stomping his chest while holding the ropes for leverage. Styles seems helpless, and Zakin is continuing the assault. But, uncharacteristic of Zakin he decides to take a moment to taunt Styles, who with the bit of strength he has at the moment swiftly lifts his leg into Zakin’s crotch, dropping him instantly. Styles then, using the ropes pulls himself up. As Zakin rolls in pain in the ring, Styles rolls to the outside, grabbing a chair from under a ring attendant. Zakin is now to one knee as Styles slides into the ring. Just as Styles lift the chair to strike the fallen Zakin, he is punched in the gut, causing him to drop the chair. Zakin, pushes Styles into position for a powerbomb onto the chair. He lifts him onto his shoulders, but Styles struggles and begins punching Zakin in the forehead, managing to slide down the front of Zakin. Zakin attempts the strike Styles but Styles blocks it and performs a sudden Michinoku Driver right onto the chair. Blood begins to trickle down Zakin’s face as he is cut above the right eye.] Tim: Chris Styles just hit a powerful Michinoku Driver onto that steel chair! Jeff: (In that intelligent voice he used a few weeks ago) Right about now, this match could go either way, but I think Styles is gonna pull it off. Tim: (Sarcastically) I’m sure everyone cares very much about your opinion. Jeff: (With the intelligent voice) Thank you, Timothy. Tim: (Sighs) [Styles stands back up and picks Zakin up, and then hits a few punches to Zakin’s already bleeding nose. Zakin suddenly ducks one of the punches and repeatedly roundhouse kicks Styles to the side of the head, then ends the combo with a superkick straight to Styles’ chin. Styles falls back onto the glass mat, a small crack forming in it from the impact of Styles hitting it. Jon E. slides a chair to Zakin, as Zakin picks it up and lays it on top of Styles’ head. Zakin then slides out of the ring and slides back in with the ladder that Styles brought down to the ring with him. Zakin sets it up slowly, then climbs it up rung by rung. When Zakin reaches the top, he signals to the crowd a Insider Drop, and the crowd goes nuts. Zakin then jumps off, but at the last second Styles rolls out of the way and Zakin hits the glass mat with a loud crunch, and the glass cracks, obviously about to break.] Tim: Zakin just jumped off of the ladder to hit Styles, but missed and hit the glass mat! Zakin is out, and the glass is about to break! Jeff: (With normal voice) Styles has it won! One little move and it’s over! [Zakin’s face is bleeding badly, as Styles stands up slowly outside the ring. He grabs Zakin’s leg and drags him out of the ring. Styles then puts Zakin into a gutwrench and powerbombs Zakin down outside the ring. Zakin grabs his back and rolls under the ring, but Styles drags him back out and leads him around to the announcers table, banging Zakin’s head against it repeatedly. Zakin finally blocks one, then picks Styles up and throws him over the table onto Jeff’s lap.] Jeff: GET THE HELL OFFA ME BIATCH!!! [Tim cracks up as he gets off of his chair, and Styles rolls off of Jeff’s lap onto the floor, banging his head on the table while rolling off. Zakin climbs over the table and pummels Styles, with every punch making Styles’ head hit the table. Styles finally pushes Zakin off of him, then stands up and folds up Jeff’s chair and smacks it against Zakin’s back. Zakin yells in pain as Styles then picks Zakin up and throws him into the audience, and climbs over the barricade after him. The two brawl in the audience, out of view half the time, but finally come back closer to the barricade near the ramp. The two climb over the ramp and continue to brawl fist to fist, when finally Styles kicks Zakin in the crotch. Styles then puts Zakin in the position for a back drop but instead pushes Zakin into the air, then as Zakin is falling back to the floor Styles grabs his head and drops with him Stunner style, as Zakin’s chin hits Styles’ shoulder and falls back on the ramp.] Tim: Innovative move there by Styles, a ¾ Face Lock Flapjack. Jeff: Well, to win it they need to get back in the ring, not outside it. [Styles then picks Zakin back up and whips him into the ring apron, Zakin hitting his back hard and falling forward quickly. Styles reaches into his right pocket pulling out a white lighter and some oily rags. He walks over to his hockey stick, attaching the rags to the barbed wire and lighting them. The stick goes up in flames to Styles’ delight. He winds and hits Zakin with it but it breaks in half, the other half tumbling towards the ring hitting the apron. Styles, disgusted at the occurance throws the other half at the ring as well. Zakin is now getting up and the two begin to wrestle for position unaware that behind them the ring apron has caught fire. Their battle continues when it is stalled by an explosion that has occurred beside the ring. Sparks are flying everywhere and it seems electrical cords under the ring have caught fire and a electrical box has exploded. Under the ring is engulfed in inferno and the ring is now slowly becoming a human frying pan, as the glass is slowly starting to melt.] Tim: Oh God no… Jeff: Yes! Praise the lord, it’s time for someone’s career to end! [Styles then slides back into the ring and sets the ladder that Zakin had jumped off back up, as Zakin stands back up slowly. Jon E. comes over to check on him, as Zakin waves him away. Styles then looks back over to Zakin and runs to do a baseball slide on him, Zakin moves out of the way and grabs Chris’ feet, then pulls him around and lands an Implant DDT on him. Zakin then stands Styles back up and climbs ontop the ring apron, then onto the top rope. The crowd goes nuts as Zakin Moonsaults off the top rope out of the ring, then grabs Styles’ head while in mid-drop and drops him with a facebuster. Zakin lies back, his tailbone hurt, and Styles is bleeding profusely from his nose and eyebrows.] Tim: God damn! Did you just see that!? Zakin landed a Moonsault into a facebuster, or what he calls a Death Defying Drop, on Chris Styles while out of the ring!!! Jeff: Like I said, Zakin is gonna win this match. Tim: No, you said Styles had the match won. Jeff: Nuh-hu, I said Zakin had this match wrapped up from the first few punches. Tim:…just whatever… [Zakin is trying to get up using the rig apron as leverage, as Styles is doing the same thing except with the barricade. Styles turns around, but Zakin catches him with a hard right. Styles stumbles back as Jon E. throws Zakin the barbed wire chair he was using earlier. Zakin catches it, as Styles turns back to Zakin. Zakin throws it to him and Styles catches the chair, but then Zakin delivers a standing side kick to the chair, which actually attaches onto Styles’ stomach!] Jeff: Styles has that chair stuck to his stomach, the stupid sunuvabitch! Tim: Zakin just stuck that chair to Styles’ stomach with his move the Shadow Kick! [Zakin dropkicks the chair to Styles’ stomach again, but it falls off revealing Styles’ bleeding chest. Zakin then throws Styles into the ring and follows him. The two stand up and exchange a few punches as the fire that was set earlier starts to get larger and larger. Zakin whips Styles into the ropes, but Styles stops Zakin on the way back and lands a knee smash on him, as both men back into opposite corners. Zakin walks up closer to Styles, and the two men grapple once again. Zakin slips Styles’ head into a headlock, but Styles reverses it and back drops Zakin onto the glass as a thin crack in it spreads down the canvas. Both men get up to their feet slowly, then back away from each other and lean into opposite turnbuckles again.] Tim: The glass is literally MELTING. This match HAS to STOP. Jeff: I think it should FINISH. Both men are almost OUT OF IT. Tim: Are you trying to mock me? Jeff: Am I? Tim: Don’t start with this again… [Zakin and Styles’ boots are MELTING. They both begin to climb the ladder as a sort of shelter. Noticing the other climbing they both increase their speed of climbing, having to compete at everything. They eventually meet at the top and begin brawling, trying to throw the other man to the flaming/melting glass. This goes on for nearly a minute when the right leg of the ladder on Zakin’s side throwing Zakin of balance and giving Styles the perfect chance to through Zakin off the ladder. Styles pushes Zakin but Zakin somehow holds onto the ladder as it tips back, and Zakin lifts it up with his feet, sending Styles flying over the rope with the ladder and landing on the barricade! Zakin slumps to the melting glass canvas and then rolls out of the ring, and then leans against the apron for a moment. He then walks over to Styles who is laying right in front of the barricade with the ladder over him. Zakin picks him up slowly and throws his back into the ring along with the ladder, then slides himself in.] Tim: God damn! This match is pure carnage! Jeff: And now Zakin wants to set the ladder back up and do the whole thing again…what a dumass. [Zakin stands the ladder up correctly as Styles slowly gets to his feet. Their boots’ soles are about to burn through, but Zakin whips Styles into the ropes and then hits him with a powerful clothesline. Zakin then climbs up the ladder as Chris Styles lies on the melting glass canvas. Zakin finally reaches the top of the ladder, and then dives off hitting a huge Frog Splash onto Chris Styles. The glass shatters into millions of pieces as the crowd goes nuts.] Tim: SHIT!!! Jeff: FUCK!!! Tim: DAVID ZAKIN JUST HIT THE INSIDER SPLASH ON CHRIS STYLES FROM THE TOP OF THE LADDER, AND THE GLASS JUST BROKE INTO MILLIONS OF PIECES!!! Jeff: BITCH!!! Tim: DAVID ZAKIN IS OUR NEW HWF CANADIAN CHAMPION!!! Jeff: DICK!!! Tim: Ok, stop with the cusses Jeff… [The ring announcer declares David Zakin as the winner. A few moments pass with only the crowd screaming, when David Zakin emerges from the hole with Styles on his shoulders, both men bleeding from just about everywhere. Zakin climbs out of the hole and drops Styles on the mat as the ring crew rushes down to extinguish the fire that was causing the glass to melt. Zakin staggers out of the ring through the ropes and pushes one of the ring crew people out of the way, and digs under the ring a little. He finally pulls out a gallon of gas and a box of matches. The crowd lets out a deafening pop as Zakin slides those into the ring, then pulls out a table and slides that into the ring too. He then slides into the ring and sets the table up over the hole in the glass, and picks Styles up and puts him on top of it. Zakin then climbs up the turnbuckles to the top rope and Jon E. hands him the barbed wire chair from earlier. Zakin then douses himself with the gas and lights himself on fire, then performs a huge Suicidal Tendencies through the table onto Chris Styles!] Jeff: Zakin is fucking crazy! He’s a fucking lunatic! Fuckety shit ass fuck! Tim: GOD! ZAKIN SET HIMSELF AND STYLES ON FIRE!!! THEY’RE DEAD!!! Jeff: Both of those bastards have to be dead now! [Jon E. slides into the ring and puts out the fire Zakin created with a fire extinguisher, and the EMT’s rush down to the ring. The EMT’s put both men on stretchers and rush them to the back, Jon E. alongside Zakin’s stretcher.] Tim: What a match…David Zakin is the new HWF Canadian champion! Jeff: And half dead at the same time! Tim: What else is in store for Holy Night… [The camera cuts backstage again, where we catch ourselves with Casey "Sunshine" Band, who is angrily walking away from a newcomer in the HWF.] Casey: For the last time, you prick, I'm MARRIED!! Evan Douglas: *calling after her* Hey.. how good can your husband be? Hes not EVAN! [She turns around and angrily slaps Evan.] Casey: My husband is a five time world champion, and one of the greatest pop stars in the world. If you don't stop right now, I'm sure Jonathan will be more than happy to oblige in providing you with a stern, yet efficient ass kicking! Evan Douglas: *laughing loudly* His name is Jonathan? *laughs more* Casey: Yeah, and his last name is Collins. Jonathan Collins, better known to your puny ass as Jonathan STORM. [All of a sudden, Evan is tapped on the shoulder by someone.] Evan Douglas: I dont sign autographs.. go awa... Jonathan Storm: No autographs needed, just one strong beatdown, EVAN. Evan Douglas: Wait a minute.. Jonathan Storm.. shit.. that name seems farmiliar to me.. Jonathan Storm: It should. I've kicked your ass more times than you care to remember. [He grins as he spins Evan around.] Evan Douglas: JONNY! aah.. I'm kinda tryin to pull some action off this little hottie.. gimme a minute will ya? Jonathan Storm: Evan, that's my wife. We've been married since June, dumbass. You were at my wedding. Evan Douglas: Oh right.. yeah.. just gimme a minute will ya.. I think she's interested.. [Evan shoos Storm away but Storm doesnt go. Jonathan spins Evan around again, grabs him by the shirt, and 'politely' talks to him.] Jonathan Storm: Evan....if you try anymore to flirt with my wife, I'll have to politely show you the door...if you catch my drift. Evan Douglas: *holding up his hands* Shit Jonny.. I was just playin with ya.. no need to get agro.. ya wouldnt want Evan to embarrass you in front of your lady would ya? *Evan grins* [Jon puts Evan down and looks him over...carefully.] Jonathan Storm: What the f*ck are you doing here? Evan Douglas: I got a call from someone.. told me you wanted to talk to me.. so I showed up... Jonathan Storm: Yeah. I got your demo tape, and we loved it. We want you to record a CD on our label. Evan Douglas: Cant sell any records huh? Need everyones hero idol and mentor to save the company huh? Jonathan Storm: Evan, I've gone double Platinum. I have a four record deal. They want to sign you on an album to album basis. Evan Douglas: then tell 'em to stick it! Gods gift to the world doesnt need their money. Jonathan Storm: Alrighty..I'll tell the label you turned down the seven figure deal. Evan Douglas: Seven figures you say? Tell them to call me on my cell.. I think I can work with that... Jonathan Storm: Plus you get a new car, great perks, and our talent agent's a real looker, single, and horny. Evan Douglas: I dont need a car.. I have my limo and my driver.. and I dont need the talent agent.. I've got Clarissa.. [Evan pulls Jonathan aside.] Evan Douglas: Enough of that though.. what about this fed? Is it worth my time? Jonathan Storm: This fed is full of second rate talent, and their world champ, Lance Sterling? He's a long nosed idiot who wishes he was me. Evan Douglas: Damn! Evan will rip it up here then.. Whatta ya say? Wanna rip it up with me? Jonathan Storm: Only if you leave my wife alone. Evan Douglas: Jonny.. Jonny.. I told ya before I was playin with you... Jonathan Storm: Then let's wreck this place, Ev. [Storm, Casey, and Douglas start walking down the hall, away from the camera, as the shot fades back into the arena.] Jeff: Who the hell is Evan Douglas!?! Tim: I don't know... but the last thing we need around here is another Pop Sensation like Jonathan Storm!! [Jeff laughs a little, Tim does as well.] Tim: Let's move on with the show. Jeff: Oh yeah, the Collins segment is up next... isn't it!?! Tim: Sure is.
~ I feel safe... [The UNKLE remix of "The World Is Not Enough" begins to play, as the masses of fans get to their feet loudly. Silver lights flicker over the arena, adding to the already eerie vibes. Michael Trey steps out into the entrance wearing street attire: a black pair of jeans, tight white t-shirt under a black leather coat, and backwards black UNC fitted cap, complete with a slick pair of silver Ray-Bans. The music continues as he runs to the ring, slapping the hands of fans on his way.] Tim: This is a Collins Rules match. That means whatever Commissioner Collins says... Goes! Jeff: I’m going to love this match! [“Clubbed To Death” hits the speakers, as a massive wave of “boos” covers the crowd. Commissioner Shawn Collins comes out of the entrance curtains wearing a white leisure suit - straight out of the 70’s. His hair in a ponytail, and he has a HUGE smirk on his face. He walks half way down the ramp, and pulls a microphone out of his jacket pocket.] Shawn: Johnstown, Penn... Welcome to the Hunt! You see, this match will be very simple. I’ll explain the rules to you now, Trey. First of all, I don’t care who you’ve fought in the past, or how I’m disgracing all those people and the HWF. Because you see, I’m not! The only thing I’m making a mockery of... is you! It’s too bad about Claire isn’t it? Don’t worry... I’m sure “he’ll” take care of her. Whoever “he” is. [Shawn creeps in another smile.] Shawn: Not only will I once again humiliate you tonight. But I will see to it that you not only lose this match - but I’ll see to it that I have full control over your singles career... forever! Then you’ll never try to pull another stunt like the one you pulled on Bisc! Thank God he’s doing a LITTLE better. Don’t worry Trey. After tonight, you’ll get used to this. As for the match, it will be a gauntlet match. Whoever comes out will be decided by me. There can be more than one person if needed, and people can come out if they feel the need to. In other words, if they want a piece of Trey, or if I call them... they can come out! Oh, and for your opponents... don’t be harsh on their looks. Beauty is in the eye of the Beholder, you know. [Shawn Collins begins to laugh menacingly on the microphone.] Shawn: Let me introduce your first opponent... [Just then, the lights in the arena suddenly cut out... leaving everything pitch black.] Jeff: ...da FUCK? Tim: What's going...? [The lights stay off for a bit, and then suddenly cut back on. In the ring, there is a man now standing DIRECTLY in front of Shawn Collins, and he's staring him down with a look so cold that it'd freeze the sun.] Tim: Who the hell is THAT?!! [The man has jeans, fingerless gloves, boots, black hair, and a scar going from his forehead across his eye to his cheek. Startled, Collins flinches, his eyes widen... and you can distinctly see fear in them. Just then, the lights cut back off.] Jeff: What the fuck IS THIS?! Tim: And who was that guy staring down Collins?? Jeff: I don't know, but he sure had The Commish freaked! [The lights cut back on, and Collins is standing there with that same frightened look on his face, but now the mysterious guy's gone. Trey's looking around, trying to find out where he went, but the man's nowhere in sight.] Tim: Where'd he go? Jeff: There he is... right beside you, Tim!! Tim: Ahhhh!! Jeff: Hahahahahahaha! Jackass. Tim: Grrr... Shawn: I don’t know what the fuck just happened... but let me get back to business. You’re first opponent is...
~ If you get down on me
 [“Get Down” by B4-4 plays as a average bald man with no shirt, and leather pants comes out onto the entrance way. His pants are completely skintight leather, except for the crotch area. In his crotch area, there is a patch of fur, which he pats.] Shawn: ...PAT MCKROTCH! Jeff: PAT MCKROTCH! AHAHAHAHAA! THIS IS CLASSIC! Tim: When will the humiliation stop? [Trey slaps his forehead and yells at Collins. Collins laughs as Pat McKrotch passes him and makes his way to the ring. Collins shakes his head, and lifts the microphone to his mouth again.] Shawn: Oh, I forgot to mention a few things. The special guest referee for this match will be none other than... [“She Bangs” by Ricky Martin hits the speakers as...] Jeff: “SUPER SEXY” DIABLO EL DILDO!!!! BACK BY POPULAR DEMAND! Tim: WHY DO WE HAVE TO SIT THROUGH THIS?! [“Super Sexy” Diablo El Dildo runs down the entrance way in his condom mask, and dildo “referee” shirt jumping up and down yelling “Ole!” Shawn Collins continues to laugh, as he lifts the microphone one more time.] Shawn: Oh geez... don’t worry Trey - it gets better! Because this is a lumberjack gauntlet match! Tim: What?! Who’re the lumberjacks?! Jeff: I can’t wait to see this! Shawn: Bring out the lumberjacks! [A circus song plays, as many, MANY zookeepers come out. Each of them comes out holding the hand of a...] Shawn: Welcome the only 10 BALD CASTRATED MONKEYS IN NORTH AMERICA! BAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA!! Jeff: BALD CASTRATED MONKEYS! THIS CANT GET ANY BETTER! HAHAHAHAHA! Tim: Dear God... Why? We’re in a Church dammit! [Shawn Collins takes a seat at the announcer table and picks up a headset.] Shawn: I’m joining you guys tod... HAHAHAHA! Look at them! [The monkeys are all running after each other and slapping each other. In the ring, Trey is pummeling on Pat while Diablo is scratching his head. Trey picks up Pat and hits a Flash Of Pain DDT on him. Pat begins twitching on the ground. Shawn Collins stands up and nods to Diablo. Diablo runs around the ring with his hands on his head, and kicks Trey down onto Pat.] Shawn: Watch this! Jeff: YES! Tim: God... [Pat McKrotch grabs onto Trey and starts bucking back and forth. Shawn Collins and Jeff slam the announcer table while laughing. Collins makes some kind of hand signal towards Diablo.] Shawn: I don’t know what these guys were thinking when I said “We’re gonna screw Trey tonight”. But it’s fucking hilarious! Hahahaha! [Diablo pulls Pat off Trey. Pat smiles. Trey just punches him square in the face. Pat falls to the ground and Trey makes the pin. Shawn nods to Diablo.] [One........ Two....... Three!!] Shawn: It’s time for my next oddity. Jeff: What now? What now?? [As soon as Diablo El Dildo rolls Pat McKrotch out of the ring, “Cats In The Cradle” by Harry Chapin plays over the speakers. A man with a dirty beard and long hair comes out. He is wearing a doctor’s uniform, but looks like he came out of America’s Most Wanted.] Shawn: Allow me to introduce to you... TheRapist! Tim: Therapist? Jeff: No, you idiot! THE RAPIST! THERAPIST! AHAHAHAHAHAHAA!! Shawn: I don’t know where I’d be if it wasn’t for you Jeff! You totally understand my jokes! You so reek of jokenosity! YEAH! [TheRapist enters the ring, and quickly throws Trey into a turnbuckle. He then runs to Trey and tries to undo Trey’s pants. Trey has a sickened look on his face, and quickly jumps onto the top turnbuckle and performs a tornado DDT on TheRapist.] Shawn: But I haven’t introduced his tag team partner yet! Jeff: YES! A TAG TEAM PARTNER! Tim: You sadistic... Shawn: You say something Tim? Tim: Nothing... [“Magic Carpet Ride” by Steppenwolf blares over the speakers and the words ‘HEYWOOD JABLOME’ come on the HWF-Tron. The man that comes out look like the Brooklyn Brawler with ripped pants, a dirty undershirt and a messed up hairdo. He picks up a microphone.] Heywood Jablome: I haven’t had sex in thirty-four years. [Collins and Jeff fall out of their seats laughing. Trey just looks disgusted again.] Jeff: HAHAHAHAHAA!! HEYWOOD JABLOME! I GET IT! Don’t you get it Tim? HAHA! Tim: Of course I get it... and it’s degrading and disgusting. Shawn: Have a sense of humor, Tim. [Shawn pulls out a bag of chips, and shares with Jeff. He offers some to Tim, who refuses. Shawn just shrugs and continues to enjoy the match.] [In the ring, Trey has been chopping both opponents back and forth, keeping both of them away from him. Heywood takes one look at the referee and bursts into laughter in the corner. TheRapist has just gotten a standing sidekick from Trey. Heywood starts to walk across the ropes. Trey throws TheRapist into him, and both men go flying to the outside.] Shawn: Oh shit... that can’t be good! Tim: Why? Why’s that not good? Jeff: OH MY GOD! [On the outside of the ring, all 10 bald castrated monkeys are slapping and jumping on the tag team of Heywood Jablome and TheRapist. The EMTs come out and tranquilize the monkeys. They take Heywood and TheRapist out on stretchers. The zookeepers take the monkeys. Trey turns around and gives Collins a “What now?” look. Shawn smiles and points to Diablo El Dildo. Diablo’s condom mask has expanded. And Diablo points to the entranceway.] Tim: What’s going on Commish? Shawn: It’s the legendary luchador. Diablo El Dildo’s former tag team partner. Jeff: WHO IS IT?!
~ O FORTUNA! [The rest of Carl Orff’s “O Fortuna” plays around the arena. Trey’s eyes widen. Diablo falls to the turnbuckle and shakes as if he was going into orgasm. Then, out of the curtains comes the opponent. The man is easily over 300 pounds of muscle, wearing a traditional luchador outfit. It looks tight on him, but it doesn’t affect the image. His legs, like a tree bark. His chest looks like it’s been inflated by a pump. His arms... larger than Hogan’s pythons. His neck, non-visible. And his head....... covered by a paper bag.] Shawn: SENIOR BAGOFSHIT! Jeff: AAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!! Tim: WHAT A MOCKERY! HE’S NOT EVEN A LUCHADOR! Shawn: Yes he is. Tim: NO! He isn’t! Shawn: YES... He is! Tim: No... why do I BOTHER?! [His paper bag mask has three holes: two for his eyes, one for his nose. Senior Bagofshit does a summersault roll down the ramp, and slides in the ring. Trey quickly takes the initiative and turns the paper bag around, not allowing Senior Bagofshit to see anything. Trey gives him a “Flash Of Pain”, and goes to the top rope. He jumps off and lands a “Light’s Out” moonsault. He goes for the pin. Diablo looks at Shawn. Shawn laughs and nods. Dildo counts as he shakes his head.] Jeff: Ohh... Dildo is mad cause you’re letting his friend be pinned. Shawn: Oh who cares? I have a bigger surprise after this. Tim: Oh dear God... it’s Christmas!! Shawn: Merry Christmas Tim! [One...... Two....... Three!] [Trey gets up, and yells at Shawn.] Shawn: Excuse me fellas. Got some work to do. [Shawn Collins gets up and grabs a microphone. He begins to unbutton his jacket. Trey motions Shawn to “come on!” Shawn just laughs.] Shawn: No, no, no... I’m not fighting you, Trey. But you will see another man in that ring. May I introduce... SILKY PALMS! Tim: SILKY PALMS?! THE SWF CHAMPION? Jeff: OH MY GOD! ["Rollin (Urban Assault Vehicle)" by Limp Bizkit hits the speakers and the crowd turns to see... none other than the Sexy Bitch himself, former SWF star Silky Palms walk in next to Collins. Silky has the old SWF belt in hand... the very one that he stole in a match involving HWF President Johnny Drake. He slings it over his shoulder and pulls a mic out of his back pocket.] Silky Palms: That's right Trey... you really thought that by shutting down the SWF that you were shutting down the WHOLE FUCKING SHOW?! I got news for ya.... I'm no moron. I get back and within a week, the fed goes under and you give up. You didn't like my from my first day all the way to my last. So of course when I recieved a call from Shawn Collins, looking for some serious wrestlers with a grudge against you, I was happy to show up here tonight. [Silky begins to pose, holding the SWF belt in the air while Collins gets back on his mic.] Shawn: Oh yeah... did I mention that your contract is once again on the line, Trey? Yeah. If you beat Silky in this match, the HWF offices are ordered to void THIS [pulls out contract] immediately. But if you lose... they are ordered to make this become a permanent situation. I'll own you, Trey. [Silky walks down towards the ring, and Trey squares up, ready for his assault.] Shawn: One more thing... [Shawn takes off his jacket, revealing the referee shirt.] Shawn: I'm the referee on this one too! [The crowd boos as Silky and Collins both hit the ring and eventually overtake Trey. Silky holds Trey's arms and Collins nails him with a superkick. Collins spits in Trey's direction and calls for the ring bell. Meanwhile, Silky has pulled Trey to his feet and irish whips him across the ring. Silky attempts a hip toss, which Michael blocks with a hip toss of his own. Palms is up very fast and comes at Michael, getting nailed by a series of punches, backing him against the ropes. Trey irish whips Silky one direction and springboard moonsaults off the other, nailing Silky and quickly covering for a pin. Collins refuses to count!] Tim: This is suuuuuuuuuch BULLSHIT. Jeff: I just can't wait to see who Trey has to face next week.... Tim: ... ugh. [Michael gets up and gets into Shawn's face, yelling at him to at least be fair. Collins smiles as Silky is now to his knees. He wraps Trey up in a school boy rollup pin from behind. Collins drops and gives an INCREDIBLY fast 2-count, before Trey kicks out.] Tim: This isn't FAIR... Drake, anyone, get down here and FAST. [Silky pulls Trey up and attempts a right hand. Trey blocks and returns a right of his own, getting blocked. Silky throws a right, but Trey blocks it and hooks his arm around Silky's. Palms tries to then swing his free left hand to hit Trey, but Michael grabs that arm as well and pulls Silky down for the Flash of Pain!] Jeff: Ah... this isn't happening. SILKY! GET UP! Tim: I think Silky and Trey are a bit too familiar with the other's ring styles... [Trey attempts to pin, but Collins is busy "fixing" a perfectly fine turnbuckle. Trey gets up and spins Collins around back to the match. He picks Silky up and sets him up for a powerbomb, but Silky grabs Trey's legs and sweeps them from under him. Silky then grabs ahold of his legs and propels Trey upward, slingshotting him into a turnbuckle. Michael spins out of the corner, holding his head gingerly. Silky is up and grabs Michael, nailing the Silk Streem (Body press into 3/4 Neckbreaker ) on Trey!] Jeff: SILK STREEM! SILK STREEM! Tim: ... mark. Jeff: ... so? PIN HIM SILKY! [Silky does a few poses for the crowd, who begins to throw garbage into the ring. Silk walks over lazily to the fallen Trey and kneels for the pin. Collins drops for the count.] [1... 2... SILKY PULLS MICHAEL'S HEAD UP AT TWO!] Jeff: NO! Tim: What is he THINKING?! Jeff: He and Collins want to rip Trey apart... that's what. [Jeff is shown to be right, as Collins kicks Trey hard. Silky pulls him up and picks Trey up for a powerbomb. Trey grabs ahold at the top of the motion though and holds on, punching the Silkster with all he's got. Silky backs up and falls to his back. Michael springs up and jumps to the top turnbuckle, springing off to dropkick Silky just as he gets to his feet. Michael picks him up once again and tries to pick Silky up for a powerbomb. He screams something.] Tim: What'd he just say? Jeff: I believe he said that he's "going to lay his ass out". [Silky blocks once, but Trey gets it the second time and drops Silky to the mat. Trey once again covers, but Collins will NOT count. The croud begins to boo again, until "The Way That I Am" by Eminem begins to play. The crowd has no clue who's coming out now...] Tim: Who is it...? Jeff: No clue. Just let it happen already. [Trey smiles widely, as he apparently knows what's up. He leaves Silky on the mat and goes to Collins, distracting him and getting into an argument with him. Meanwhile, a man hops out from the crowd and sneaks up onto Silky from behind. It's...] Jeff: THE MARK?! Tim: It's Kyle Solomon! Jeff: FROM SWF! Collins! Look! [Collins doesn't see it though; Trey is doing a good job of distraction. Kyle puts Silky in a dragon sleeper position from behind and nails his finisher, "Right On The Mark" (Inverted Piledriver).] Tim: RIGHT ON THE MARK! Jeff: ... now who's the mark? Uh... besides Solomon, of course. Tim: Are you still talking? [Kyle slides out quickly and drops to one side. Meanwhile, Trey finally lets Collins go. Collins exits the ring on the other side and Kyle and Shawn both creep towards the same direction unknowingly. Trey climbs the turnbuckle and calls for the Lights Out!] Tim: Finish it, Trey! [The lights go out and you hear the impact of Michael's moonsault. They return and you see Solomon run at Collins on the outside, clocking him with a chair! Kyle picks him up and rolls him in to Trey. Disoriented, Collins begins the count!] [One... Two... Three!! Trey wins!] Jeff: Damnit Collins! What have you done?! You and Silky both ruined it! No more Mike Hunts! No more Diablos! Tim: You liked them too much anyways. [Solomon takes the SWF belt from ringside, holds it high in the air, and walks backwards to the back of the arena to a large pop. Trey rolls out of the ring and head to the backstage area to a huge pop.] Tim: Folks, I'm getting word that Tony Bradshaw is in back with the HWF's newet signing... Tony, can you hear me? [The camera cuts back to the locker room, where Tony Bradshaw stands with a familiar looking woman. Tony has a big cheesy grin on his face, and begins to speak.] Tony Bradshaw: Sure can... Ladies and Gentlemen, I'm here with the HWF's latest signing, Tempest! Tempest you signed up contingent on your finishing the Thrillfest Tournament and that turned out to be quite a delay, but you won it and now here you are. Welcome! Tempest: Thanks Tony! You bet I won Thrillfest. And it really was a thrill too. I had some fabulous competition, from your own Michael Trey in fact! Tony Bradsaw: *looks shocked* You mean he made a good impression? Tempest: *laughs* Yes he did. A good enough one to make me want to come here in fact. Tony Bradshaw: *nods knowingly* Yes, you've been real supportive of Trey. Anything that maybe you want to tell us about the two of you? Tempest: *looks confused* Well, we're friends in spite of having opposed each other, but that's about it. And now if you'll excuse me.... [Tony Bradshaw watches her go with a raised eyebrow, as she walks down the hallway.] Tony Bradshaw: Back to you guys... [The camera cuts back to the ring. Suddenly, the lights cut out. An audio clip plays over the speakers, as you hear Trevor Lasek's voice from Suicide announcing the stips for The Ultimate Death Match.] Trevor Lasek's Voice: Well folks, I guess it's time for me to announce the stips to my match at Holy Night!! Ok, here goes nothing. You take a Hell in a Cell, place it over the ring and wrap it in Barbed wire. Then you take a Steel Cage or a Japanese Cage and place it on the ring. That cage will be electrified as well. Also in the ring will be a Ladder and hanging from the Cell are bags of Glass, Barbed wire, Tacks and Firecrackers. Outside of the ring will be boards of Barbed wire, Nails, Bug Zappers,C4 and Glass. There will also be a Weed Wacker hanging from the side of the cage as well. Japanese Tables will be around the ring as well and Chairs. To win the match you must Pin your opponent and that's it. You can't stop the match for anything, loss of blood, snap your leg in half or passed out from the pain!! [The fans in St. Benedict Church cheer loudly, as the lights come back on, revealing the elctrified cage on the ring already. There are also rows of japanese (thin) tables with chairs, barbed-wire boards, nails, glass, C4 Boards, and bugzappers scattered on top of the rows of tables and on the church floor; just as Trevor Lasek requested. Suddenly, a spotlight shines towards the church ceiling, where a Hell in a Cell is being lowered to the ring area. 4 bags of goodies hang from the cell's roof. The Cell eventually reaches the church floor, and fits snugly around the tables. The fans cheer immensely.] Tim: Alright... why the hell are we sanctioning this? Jeff: Um... I don't think we are, now that you mention it. Tim: Well, I sure as hell hope so, because somebody can get hurt bad. Jeff: Maybe!?! I think it's a sure bet... [The lights in the arena slowly fade as the fans come to an abrupt silence. The lights are completely out and the church is pitch black. Then, a red spotlight shines on the top of the aisle. Starting at the bottom of the aisle, and continuing to the top, fireworks go off, and as soon as they hit the top, "Thunder Underground" by Ozzy Osbourne blares over the speakers. The crowd cheers and some hold up lighters in the near dark, as the lights return and Renegade comes out from the back. He looks at the fans and raises his arms, then walks down the aisle and steps through the cell door. Renegade opens a door on the electrified cage and gets into the ring. He looks around at his surroundings with a somewhat nervous, somewhat evil grin on his face.] Tim: Maybe Lasek's car broke down or something... or maybe his flight got cancelled... anything to stop this match. Jeff: Don't be too sure Tim, Lasek's waited a long time for this match...
 [All of a sudden "Wake up" by Rage Against the Machine blasts onto the speakers as Trevor Lasek walks out of the entry way with a 10 foot ladder in hand. Lasek looks to be almost salivating at the carnage ahead. He runs down to the ring with the ladder and through the cell door. He throws the ladder into the ring, and then gets into the ring as well. A referee, decked out in a fireman's outfit and carrying a small wooden board shuts the cage and cell door and stands in the gap.] Tim: God... I can't watch. Jeff: I CAN!! [The ref gives a signal to the pyrotechnics guy at ringside, and the pyro guy gives him a nod. Suddenly, you hear a jolt at ringside as the cage becomes electrified and the bell sounds. Slowly, Lasek picks up the ladder and starts circling around the ring with Renegade. Both feel each other out for a while, but then Lasek throws the ladder at Renegade, dropping him down to the ring mat. Lasek hops onto Renegade and starts pounding the shit out of him. Renegade comes back with a poke to the eye, however, and then jabs Lasek off with the ladder. Renegade looks over to see the cage less than 6 inches from his face. He quickly scurries away and starts pounding on Lasek.] Tim: Shit, that was close... [Renegade kicks the ladder out of the way, and then picks Lasek up to his feet. He quickly whips Lasek towards the cage. Lasek puts the breaks on, and then runs back towards Renegade; only to be spinebuster'ed in the middle of the ring. Lasek rolls over towards the side of the ring, and Renegade picks up the ladder. Renegade puts the ladder next to Lasek, on the mat and then steps away. He yells something to the fans, runs forward, and slides in for a dropkick; squishing Lasek between the ladder and the cage, and sending volts of electricity through Lasek's body.] [ZAAAAAPPP!!!!] Tim: Oh, GOD!! Jeff: Alright, who ordered the Barbequed Canadian!?! Tim: That's not funny Jeff... [Renegade backs up again and goes for another dropkick, but Lasek scurries out of the way and Renegade dropkicks the ladder into the cage. He attempts to get up, but his legs are caught inbetween the rungs of the ladder. Lasek takes advantage of this, by hitting numerous jumping legdrops on the downed Renegade. Renegade finally riggles free, but Lasek pounds on him and grabs him by the hair. He lifts him to his feet and lifts him up in fireman's carry. Lasek steadies Renegade on his shoulders, swings him out in front of him, and brings him down to the mat with a wicked reverse sleeper mat slam. Lasek stays opn for the pin, as the ref makes the count on his small wodden board.] Tim: Fireman's Carry into Violent Shit!! Jeff: Amazing!! [One... ...Two... KICKOUT!!] [Lasek stands up and lifts Renegade to his feet. He wrings out Renegade's arm a couple more times and then attempts to whip him to the cage wall. Renegade reverses it, but Lasek reverses it as well and whips Renegade HARD right into the electrified cage.] [ZAAAAAPPP!!!!] Tim: And now it's Renegade's turn to taste the elctricity... ["H-W-F, H-W-F, H-W-F, H-W-F"] Jeff: Uh oh... Tim: What? Jeff: You're starting to enjoy this, aren't you? Tim: No... well, um... it's Hardcore!! [Lasek looks down at Renegade and then towards the ladder. In an instance, Lasek grabs the ladder and sets it up in the middle of the ring. He quickly climbs up the ladder until he gets to the top, as Renegade reaches his feet. Renegade acts as if he's gonna knock over the ladder, but satops when he sees what Lasek is doing. Lasek has a hand on one of the mystery bags and is trying to rip it open. You hear the bag he's working on rip in half as hundreds of thumbtacks break free and scatter to the ring, and ringside area below. The crowd explodes as Renegade drops to the mat to protect his eyes.] Jeff: And here comes the goodies!! [Before jumping down, Lasek grabs another bag, but doesn't open it. As Renegade rises to his feet, Lasek jumps off the top of the ladder and delivers a missle dropkick right to his chest.] Tim: JESUS!! Lasek is insane!! [Lasek stands up, to reveal numerous thumbtacks sticking in his chest and face. In fact, he's bleeding quite a lot now, as he trys to get his bag open. He eventually rips it open and pulls out a bundle of barbed-wire; which he places on the ground near the corner. The crowd starts cheering again, as Lasek picks up Renegade and walks over to the barbed-wire. Lasek slaps on a standing head scissors while facing the barbed-wire, but Renegade back drops him onto some thumbtacks. Lasek begins rolling around in pain, as Renegade picks him up by the throat.] Jeff: Renegade's gonna kill Trevor Lasek!! Tim: I'm afraid you may be right... [Renegade lifts up Lasek, kicks him in his stomach, and applies a standing head scissors of his own. He grabs Lasek around the waist and lifts him up in powerbomb position. Renegade circles around a bit until he's facing the barbed-wire, where he slams down Lasek VERY HARD onto the pile of barbed-wire and thumbtacks. The crowd gasps as Lasek's body bends in unimaginable ways. Renegade looks around the ring, and then goes for the cover. Once again, the referee makes the count on his hand held wood board.] Jeff: Could that powerbomb do it!?! [One... ...Two... Th...KICKOUT!!] Tim: NO! [Renegade gets up and grabs the ladder. He starts jamming it into the cage, trying to knock it over. He gets shocked a couple of times, but still continues. He gets one side of it, the side away from the door, wobbling a little and then he goes back to Lasek. He brings Lasek to his feet and whips him to the ropes. Lasek reverses the whip, and Renegade bounces off the ropes, not touching the cage. Renegade comes back and Lasek lifts him up for a spinebuster... but switches it into a spinebuster mid-move.] Jeff: WOW!! Tim: There's The Dream Eater!! [Lasek is quick to his feet, and after the ladder. He sets up the ladder underneath the other two bags and begins climbing, as Renegade gets to his feet. Renegade starts climbing the other side as Lasek reaches the top. Lasek grabs one of the bags and rips it open, sending glass flying everywhere; much to the crowd's approval. This doesn't stop Renegade, however, who reaches the top seconds later.] Tim: This is SO dangerous!! [Lasek and Renegade begin exchanging punches back and forth; each man nearly falling off the ladder with each blow. Both men are bleeding now, as the brawl continues. Renegade eventually gets the upperhand and grabs Lasek in a choke hold.] Tim: Oh no!! Jeff: OH YES!! [Renegade steadies himself on the later and then looks behind Lasek; where the loose cage wall stands wobbling around. Renegade yells out something to the fans and then throws Lasek backwards; sending him flying into the cage wall.] Tim: SHIT!! [ZAAAAAAAAPPP!!] [The cage wall almost immediately collapses, sending Lasek falling down onto the tables and numerous weapons on the outside, and making a HUGE crash which echoes throughout the arena. Lasek lays motionless on the outside as the fans chant "HO-LY-SHIT, HO-LY-SHIT". Renegade slumps down on the ladder and catches his breath.] Jeff: LASEK IS DEAD!! HE IS DEAD!! Tim: SHIT!! Jeff: Renegade Chokeslammed him from the ladder, through the electified cage and down onto all that carnage!! Tim: SHIT!! Jeff: SHIT!! Tim: SHIT!! [The camera gets a close up on Renegade, who has a sadistic look on his face. He stands up on the top of the ladder and looks down towards Lasek; who looks dead in all of the rubble below.] Tim: HE WOULDN'T.... [Renegade lines up a would-be dive onto Lasek. He takes one last deep breath, and then closes his eyes. A few seconds later, Renegade jumps off the ladder and hits an ABSOLUTELY GIGANTIC splash onto Lasek and the glass, tables, chairs, thumbtacks, etc, etc. The fans break out in numerous chants, as the ref runs to check on both men.] Jeff: HOLY SHIT NUGGET!! Tim: A man of Renegade's size shouldn't be in the air at all; much less jumping 20 feet down onto tables and chairs!! Jeff: SHIT NUGGET!! Tim: God... stop this match now!! [Renegade and Lasek are both twitching uncontrollably on the outside, as the ref tries to revie both men. The fans are still chanting "HO-LY-SHIT, HO-LY-SHIT" as neither man shows signs of awakening.] Tim: Both men are hurt BAD!! Jeff: You're telling me!! [The ref eventually gets Renegade to start getting up, as Lasek still remains motionless on the outside. Renegade pulls himself up finally via the Cell wall and rests for a moment. Shards of glass, thumbtacks, and blood covers Renegade's body; as well as Lasek's. Renegade looks down as Lasek, who looks out cold.] Tim: PIN HIM!! PIN HIM ALREADY!! Jeff: Geez... what happened to being an un-biased announcer!?! Tim: Lasek needs medical help!! [Renegade acts as if he's going for a pin, but instead grabs a japanese table and sets it up over the rubble next to Lasek. He grabs another table, shakes off the debree, and sets it up behind the other table. Renegade, then, starts to pile on chairs, glass, and thumbtacks in the ring by the tables.] Tim: Oh no... what's Renegade planning NOW!?! [Renegade picks up the lifeless body of Lasek and rolls him onto the tables. He gets up there himself and locks Lasek in a suplex position. Renegade lifts up Lasek in a vertical suplex and then dives off into the ring, planting Lasek on the pile of weapons with a BRUTAL looking implant DDT from the suplex, dropping Lasek on the top of his skull.] Jeff: FIST OF RAGE!! FIST OF RAGE!! ["H-W-F, H-W-F"] Tim: THAT'S ENOUGH ALREADY!! [Renegade struggles, but finally gets his arm across Lasek's motionless chest. The ref makes the count on his small wooden board.] [One... ...Two... ...THREE!!] Tim: THANK GOD!! Jeff: Renegade won!! [As the bell sounds, about 20 EMT's rush down towards the ring area. The elecriticity is prompty cut off, as the Cell starts to get raised back up. The EMT's dash into the opening in the ring and quickly go to work on both men. Trev is slowly put onto a stretcher, as HWF technicians attempt to clean up all of the wreckage on the outside. Some other EMT's help Renegade to his feet, and to the back. They're taking care of Lasek really carefully, but somehow, Lasek is trying to get to his feet.] Tim: What is Lasek thinking!?! [Lasek weakly pushes the EMT's off of him and struggles up to his feet, using the ring ropes. The EMT's start yelling for him to lay down, but Lasek doesn't listen. While hilding his neck, Lasek stumbles out towards the center of the ring and raises his arms in the air. Blood pours down his face, as the fans give him a HUGE pop in respect.] Tim: And the fans give it up for one of the most hardcore me- [Lasek collapses in a heap in the center of the ring, to everyone's shock. EMT's rush over and try to put him on a stretcher again, as his lifeless body resists. Tim: Lasek just collapsed!! Jeff: Dude... I think he's dead!! Tim: Shut up... help him out EMT's!! [They finally get Lasek on a gurnee and start rushing him towards the back for medical attention.] Tim: Man, I'm glad that's over with... Jeff: Not me! I wanted to see more of that carnage!! Tim: Jeff... chill out man... Jeff: What!?! [The technicians slowly load the wreckage into wheelbarrows and begin to roll it out, as the camera cutys back to Tim and Jeff. Most of the wreckage is gone, and a Hell in a Cell is being lowered down to the ring yet again.] Tim: And now we have the Tag Team Title match between Teen Angst, Twisted Circle and the Champions, The Anti-Heroes. Jeff: Yeah! The Cell is set up, and ready to be used. I hope these three teams are ready for a war. Tim: They are!
 [The lights dim down as a computerized voice begins to count down from three.] [ ....3.... ] [ ....2.... ] [ ....1.... ] [ BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! ] [Gold and red pyrotechnics erupt as "More Human Than Human" by White Zombie hits the overhead and the Twisted Circle come walking out towards the ring with determination on their faces. Ethan’s dressed up in a new jumper for the special occasion. This one being completely red with black trim. Gavin is coming out in a pair of pants, with colors opposing from Ethan’s, in all black with red trim. The two men open the mesh door to the cell and walk in, fully confident.] Tim: And here comes Twisted Circle. They’ve been having some trouble with former Outlawed Generation members, Extream and Kyle Corman. Hopefully that will start to boil down. Jeff: The whole Outlawed Generation is destroyed! Everyone has a problem! [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 and walk down to the ring. They enter the mesh door as Spike slides under the ring, and pops on his head and flips up Matrix-style while Chris climbs up the turnbuckle on the outside and raises both arms to the applause of the crowd.] Tim: And the tag team champions are... where? Jeff: They should be coming out any minute now. [They wait a minute, and no one appears in the entranceway. The ref motions his hand, and the bell rings.] Tim: Well, the tag team titles are on top of the cell. And there are no tag team champions here! Jeff: I guess it’s a decision between these two teams! [Scruggs and Thrilla lock up in a test of strength. Scruggs gets the advantage and pushes Thrilla backwards, arching his back. But in a surprising show of strength, Chris bridges back up. Thrilla kicks the lock up with his left hand and slides between Scruggs legs. Scruggs tries a back elbow, but Thrilla catches his arm and hooks his head. Thrilla lifts Scruggs off the ground, falls backward and hits a devastating High School Massacre on Ethan Scruggs!] Tim: Amazing show of strength by the young Chris Thrilla. Jeff: Did you hear his speech before the show? It was despicable... what he said about our Commissioner Shawn Collins! Tim: I found it hilarious. [Meanwhile, Coens and Spike are staring down at each other form across the ring, oblivious to Thrilla and Scruggs who are already locking horns. Coens takes a few steps towards Spike, swaggering from side to side as if he was taking a stroll in the park. Spike walks up to him in almost the same manner and shoves Coens back a step when they meet in the center of the ring. Coens, laughing slightly, shoves Spike back. Spike stumbles a step backwards and brushes himself off with his hands, as if Coens just dirtied him with the push. The two men stare down at each other, not moving an inch. They stare... and stare... and yes... they stare some more... for at least 15 seconds, this is all they do. Coens snaps finally and chucks a right at Spike, taking it right on the jaw. Spike is rocked backwards, but he recovers quickly and knocks Coens back with a right of his own. Coens and Spike meet in the center again, this time slightly more pissed off. Trash talk flies on both sides, and Coens again snaps, throwing a left at Spike. Again, Spike takes the shot and retaliates with one of his own.] Tim: Didn't we just see that? Jeff: What, Spike taking a shot to the face? Oh yeah, we saw that, now I wanna see it again! Come on Gav! [Spike and Coens charge at each other, locking up furiously, takings shots left and right, until Coens locks up with Spike, pushing him backwards and ramming him hard into the turnbuckle. Spike shoves back, trying to gain some leverage and pushes Coens to the ropes. The two are swinging back and forth, trying to gain momentum, but the two are at a standoff. Finally, Coens bends Spike’s elbow back and forces him into a hammerlock, and into a quick headlock. Spike gives Coens a few rib shots with his forearm and backs up against the ropes, bouncing off of them with enough forces to break Coens’ lock and send him into the far ropes. Coens bounces back with a clothesline, Spike ducks and pops back up behind Coens ala HHH with a neckbreaker. Spike holds the neckbreaker for too long, though, and Coens turns it into a suplex position and lifts him high into the air. Spike wiggles out of the vertical position and floats over Coens’ back into a reverse chancery. Coens spins 180 degrees hanging onto Spike’s neck to a reverse chancery of his own, and lifts him into a reverse suplex. Spike stretches out his legs in mid-air, kicks off of the second ropes, bounces off the top and breaks out of the suplex, but hangs onto Coens’ arm and drops into a cross arm bar!] Tim: Holy shit, that was crazy! How many reversals and counters were there? I lost count after three! Jeff: Yeah, you would lose count after three, you uneducated shmuck. Tim: An uneducated what? Jeff: A shmu... nevermind, obviously you are not Jewish. Tim: No shit! Neither are you! Jeff: Yeah, but I watch a lot of Mel Brooks! Tim: You know, there is a match going on, right? Jeff: A what? Stop speaking gibberish to me! [Scruggs and Thrilla have made their way outside of the ring, still in the cell. Scruggs continuously takes Thrilla from one corner to the next, slamming him into the sides of the cell wanting to open it up. Thrilla is already cut open on his head. Thrilla begins to punch Scruggs in the gut to stop the attacks; Scruggs bends over holding his stomach. But Scruggs quickly gets up for a kick. Thrilla grabs Scruggs’ leg as he went for the kick. Scruggs smiles, hits an enziguri, and quickly turns it into a modified Russian leg sweep onto the cell wall!] Jeff: I think we’re going to get a lesson in innovation tonight! Tim: Good God! No more innovation talk! [Thrilla staggers as he holds his gashing forehead. Scruggs runs from behind him, and gives him a bulldog. Thrilla squirms on the ground, holding his head in pain. Scruggs smiles, and enters the ring. Scruggs turns Spike around from fighting Gavin, and kicks him in the groin. He lifts Spike up for a vertical suplex, and is caught in mid-air by Gavin who turns the vertical suplex into a powerbomb!] Jeff: Wow! I haven’t seen something like that since... Tim: You’ve never seen anything like that you idiot. You can barely remember what happened yesterday. Jeff: Well... there was that girl... Tim: Wrong again! [As Gavin and Scruggs continue to beat on Thrilla in the ring, Spike opens the mesh door and falls out of the Cell. Scruggs and Coens don’t see this, and Thrilla attacks both of them with quick chops back and forth between the two. He bounces of the ropes, and ducks a double clothesline from Twisted Circle, but on his second trip off the ropes he is caught by a double spinebuster. Scruggs quickly goes under the ring and grabs a steel chair. He throws it in the ring, and Gavin smiles.] Tim: What’s Gavin planning now?! Jeff: Pain... Destruction!! DEATH!!! Tim: You need a therapist. Jeff: Watch your tongue! [Gavin sets up the chair by the ropes, near the area where Spike seems to be climbing the cell from the other side. Gavin steps back, and runs off the chair, off the ropes and hits a perfect 3-step suicide dive onto the side of the cage. Spike instantly falls off the cage, and Gavin falls back first onto the concrete ground. Both men are in pain. Scruggs and Thrilla both see the open door and run towards it. Scruggs slides under the ropes to get to it, but Thrilla does a splash over the top rope to take Scruggs down, and get through the door. By this time, Spike has gotten up and set up a 20-foot ladder near the Cell. Gavin has gotten up as well.] Jeff: A ladder?! YES!! Tim: This just means more EMTs coming down to ringside after the match. [Scruggs and Thrilla continue to brawl near the door, but Gavin gets out. Seeing this, Scruggs throws Thrilla back into the ring. Spike begins to climb the ladder on the side opposite to the cell. Gavin climbs the side near the cell. The climb to the top and begin to punch each other back and forth.] Tim: Nothing good can come of this! Jeff: How about ratings? Mo-ney! Mooo-neey!! [Scruggs just hits his Stray Bullet DDT in the ring on Chris Thrilla! He goes out under the ring, and pulls out a noose. He throws that in the ring, and pulls out a couple of tables. Gavin puts his hand through the cell, and Scruggs throws the noose to him. Gavin and Spike are still going back and forth on top of the ladder. Scruggs takes one of the tables, and goes to the outside. He sets up the table behind the ladder, where Spike has climbed. Thrilla gains consciousness and runs out of the cell. Scruggs sees this. Ethan Scruggs continues beating on Chris; right hand, after right hand, after right hand connects and stings the Canadian Killah. Chris, who is now dazed on his feet, grabs the guardrail for support. Ethan takes one long swing with his right hand, but Chris releases the guardrail and drops on his knees, hitting a low blow on Ethan. Ethan staggers and bends over, Chris grabs him in a 3/4 nelson and hits a Twisting Suicide on Scruggs!] Tim: What else can happen here?! Jeff: Hmm... we need some lighter fluid and a match! Tim: Sadistic fuck... [Gavin grabs on the cell, jump-kicks Spike, and quickly grabs the ladder with his free legs. Spike falls 20 feet, and lands awkwardly onto the table that Scruggs laid out.] Tim: Oh... God!! Jeff: Yes! The match has finally begun! [Thrilla, however, quickly begins to climb the cell. Gavin, who is already on top of the cell, grabs the ladder he saved, and pulls it up with him. He lays the ladder down, and watches as Thrilla makes his way to the top of the cell as well. Gavin goes to grab the tag titles, but Thrilla dropkicks the barbwire table away from his grasp. Spike and Scruggs have gotten up from their respective beatings. Spike begins to climb the cell, confidently. Scruggs looks around and smiles. He grabs a duffel bag, and throws it up 20 feet to Gavin, then continues to climb up the cell wall. Gavin grabs the duffel bag. He pulls out some wire cutters, and cuts a few wires on a portion of the cell ceiling. Thrilla runs at him to attack, but Gavin kicks him in the gut, and performs a Cardinal Syn on the part of the ceiling that was cut by the wire-cutter. Both Gavin and Thilla fall 15 feet onto a table that was left inside the ring earlier.] [“H-W-F! H-W-F! H-W-F!”] Tim: OH DEAR GOD! GAVIN AND THRILLA MUST BE DEAD! Jeff: You and I have both seen worse! That’s noooooothing! But Gavin is a crazy bastard! He doesn’t seem to care what happens to him! [Spike and Scruggs, on top of the cell, look down at the carnage that just took place. Scruggs dives towards Spike with a shoulder block, sending him reeling. Scruggs kicks Spike in the stomach, and locks on a suplex position, hooking the leg. As Scruggs lifts Spike into the air with a fisherman's suplex, Spike knees Ethan in the throat and drops right into a grapvined leg lock. Spike uses his other leg and knee Scruggs a few times in the gut, and looks like he is going for an Octopus stretch, but instead of putting his leg around the neck of Scruggs, he swings it over to the other side of Scruggs' body and locks in a half nelson with his leg. Scruggs is bent over, unable to move from this position, leaving his side, back and stomach open for anything. Spike takes advantage and rains down elbows and punches to the vulnerable area, sending jolts of pain through Ethan's spine every few shots.] Tim: I’m surprised they haven’t broken the cage again! Jeff: If they do, they’ll fall on poor Gavin! Tim: And Chris Thrilla. Jeff: Yeah, him too! [Gavin gets up, dazed in the ring. On the top of the cell, Scruggs has gotten up, and has put Spike in a reverse dragon screw maneuver, quickly followed by a Fujiwara Armbar. Spike is yelling out in pain, as his arm is being lifted and wrenched behind his back. Gavin yells up at Scruggs. He makes the motion of cutting someone’s throat with his hands. Scruggs nods, and lets go of Spike. Spike squirms in pain. Scruggs grabs the noose and holding one end, sends the other to Gavin.] Jeff: Hey! This is great! Gavin is a true innovator! Tim: You idiot! First he steals Michael Trey’s ideas... now he’s taking the Rykopathe route! Jeff: “That sadistic bastard”. Tim: Mock me again, and I’ll break this monitor on your chest. Jeff: Whoa! Calm down there! [Gavin ties the rope around Thrilla’s neck, and Scruggs pulls on the rope from above. Thrilla is hanging 10 feet off the mat, unable to breathe. After 30 seconds, Thrilla isn’t moving. Spike attacks Scruggs, and Thrilla’s hold is released, and he falls on his side. Scruggs and Spike are trading shots on the top of the cell, right beside the title belts. Scruggs whips Spike over to the table, who gets his legs cut up on the barbed wire. Scruggs comes back over to Spike, slamming his head on the title belts a few times, dropping Spike down to his knees. Scruggs grabs the belts, and walks past the downed Spike, kicking him in the ribs as a final insult before winning, like salt on a wound. Scruggs swaggers past Spike slowly, nowhere near the side of the cell, when Spike low blows him from behind and lifts him into an Argentine Rack. He spins towards the barbwire table and catches Scruggs' knees, slamming him down through the table with the Honor Roll! Spike drops to his stomach from exhaustion, unable to take the title belts and get the win.] Tim: That was SO close! This match is still on, and still - with no tag team champs in sight. Jeff: Maybe they went for a burger? Tim: Yeah... MAYBE! [Gavin begins to climb the cell from one side. Thrilla is also climbing from the other side, slowly, dazed.] Tim: Thrilla wants those tag titles. That’s his only motivation. The poor kid’s gonna get himself killed over them! Jeff: Chris Thrilla dies in attempt to recover HWF Tag Team Championship... Hmmm... Now THAT = Ratings! Tim: Ugh... [Both men get to the top of the cell, and all four men begin to brawl. Fists vs. fists. Gavin hits a Cardinal Syn on Spike over Ethan’s bent knee. And Ethan Scruggs hits a Fatality on Thrilla with a chair from Gavin’s duffel bag under Thrilla’s neck. Both members of Teen Angst are out. Gavin and Scruggs both grab a Tag Title belt. But as they go to the edge of the cell, each of them get a drop toe hold from both members of Teen Angst.] Tim: IT WAS OVER AGAIN! Jeff: This is a dangerous situation! [Gavin ties the noose to the top of the cell, and wraps it around a still hurting Chris Thrilla. But Thrilla attacks Gavin before he gets the chance to throw him over. Gavin knocks Thrilla down with the chair, places it on his face, and performs a guillotine legdrop on Thrilla’s face.] Tim: Oh... that devastating Guillotine Legdrop! Jeff: Another broken face, courtesy of your friendly neighborhood Gavin Coens! Tim: Are you retarded?! [Ethan Scruggs has been beaten down by Spike. Spike has given him a front chancery, dropping him on the cell. Spike picks up the ladder that has been motionless on top of the cell. He tosses it to Gavin. Gavin holds on to it, as Spike kicks the ladder. Gavin falls into the hole that he made earlier on top of the cell. But the ladder keeps him elevated! He’s hanging off a 20-foot ladder that isn’t large enough to fit through the small hole.] Tim: This doesn’t look good for Gavin! Jeff: Ethan! Help him out! You can do it! [Spike pulls out a bag of glass from Gavin’s duffel bag of tricks. He pours the glass on the mat below where Gavin is hanging. Then he begins to step on Gavin’s fingers. Scruggs sees this, gets up, and gives Spike a back-belly suplex. Gavin lets out a sigh of relief. But Thrilla grabs the chair, gets up, and SLAMS the chair on Gavin’s fingers. Gavin can’t resist letting go, and falls and slides on the glass. He yells out in pain and slips and falls on his back onto the glass again. Blood covers the mat where the glass is, and Gavin seems to have passed out, his head also bleeding.] [“HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT!”] Tim: OH MY GOD! SOMEONE CALL THE EMTS!! Jeff: GAVIN TOOK THE DIVE OF DEATH! THAT GLASS IS DEEP IN HIM! [Scruggs quickly grabs Thrilla, and TOSSES him off the side of the cell! 25 feet onto a guardrail!] [“HO-LY FUCK! H-W-F! H-W-F!”] Tim: THRILLA IS UNCONSIOUS NOW! HE HIT THE GUARD RAIL HEAD FIRST, FROM 25 FEET IN THE AIR! Jeff: THAT’S IT SCRUGGS! AVENGE YOUR PARTNER’S DEATH! Tim: Gavin isn’t DEAD! Jeff: He sure looks like it to me! Tim: We need more paramedics! Thrilla and Gavin could be near death! [Spike turns Scruggs around and begins to punch him; lefts and rights. Scruggs blocks a punch, and jabs Spike for himself. Spike Irish whips Scruggs into the barbwire table, cutting him in the gut. But as Spike runs at Scruggs, he ducks, and Spike flips onto the barbwire table, cutting his back and breaking the table. Scruggs grabs a title, but Spike grabs the other before Scruggs can get it. Both men are holding a tag team title. Scruggs grabs Spike by the head, and lifts him up. Scruggs winds his arm up for a powerful clothesline, but before he can make contact - the lights go out!] Tim: What the hell?! Where’d the lights go? What’s going on here? Jeff: I don’t know!! What’s that?! [An orange spotlight shines on top of the cell. Two mysterious men are standing in front of Spike and Scruggs. Scruggs and Spike are shocked, and still. One of the mystery men kicks Scruggs in the groin and powerbombs him off the cell onto an announcer table!] Tim: OH MY GOD! WHAT THE HELL?! Jeff: THEY BROKE THE SPANISH ANNOUNCER TABLE WITH SCRUGGS’ BODY! [The other mystery man gives Spike a spinbuster OFF the cell onto the other announcer table!] Tim: THIS IS ANARCHY! ALL FOUR MEN ARE BROKEN! GET THE PARAMEDICS! Jeff: OUR TABLE!! [The lights go out again.] Jeff: Who won this match?! Both Spike and Ethan Scruggs have a title, and have been tossed off the Hell In A Cell! Tim: Is that ALL YOU CARE ABOUT? [Paramedics come out of the back as soon as the lights come back on. All four men are motionless, bleeding and broken. The two mystery men on the top of the cell have disappeared again. The bell rings, and Nigel Rolston’s voice can be heard over the speakers:] Nigel: And the winners of this match, and NEW HWF TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS – ETHAN SCRUGGS AND....... SPIKE! [The crowd goes crazy; in confusion, anger, and joy.] Tim: WHAT THE HELL? Jeff: ETHAN SCRUGGS HAS DONE IT! HE’S A TWO-TIME TAG TEAM CHAMPION! Tim: I don’t think he had this in mind... and let me ask you this, Jeff - at what cost? AT WHAT COST? Jeff: I don’t even think these men know what happened. They’re all unconscious. [All four men are taken out on stretchers, and some of the HWF crew comes out to clean up the ring-area. The Hell In A Cell is lifted, as the crew gets ready for the next match.] Tim: Jeff, I'm being told that Phoenix and Insomnia are making their way to an upstairs room in this church to begin the Bell Tower Match! Jeff: Yes! I've been waiting all night to see these two demented fighters attempt to throw the other off the 30 foot high bell tower!
 [The cameras switch to a long corridor. At the far end, the silhouette of a walking figure makes it way towards the camera. As the silhouette inches closer, the camera pans right to view an open door. Inside, Insomnia leans against a far wall. On the floor, weapons are strewn about. Panning back to the left, the silhouette has been identified, as the camera films Phoenix taking the last ten feet to the door. Phoenix has two fluorescent lights, one in each hand. He stops and takes a deep breath, before turning and walking into the room. From behind the camera, a referee walks to the door, placing a lock on the door!] Tim: They've locked those two in there?! Jeff: It seems so. That means, there's one way out of there. Climb the ladder to the bell tower. Once you are there, there's also one way out. That way isn't quite as safe as climbing the ladder, as you must be THROWN off the bell tower! [The camera view switches inside as Phoenix shatters one of the lights over Insomnia's forehead, causing him to stumble backwards. He grabs a chair by its legs, while Phoenix lifts the other light above his head. Phoenix swings but Insomnia puts the chair in front of his face, causing the light to shatter on the chair and send tons of glass shards back into the face of Phoenix!!] Tim: Ooh! Jeff: Phoenix got those shards right his forehead and eyes! Tim: He could be blind and out of this match already! [Phoenix stumbles back, bending over with his eye lids shut with force. A few low screams of pain comes from Phoenix's mouth, as he forcefully opens his eyes. Unfortunately for Phoenix, he opens his eyes right into a HUGE chair shot from Insomnia!! The chair bends from the impact, which causes Phoenix to fall back into the wall, blood beginning to surface to the flesh of his scarred forehead. Phoenix slowly slides down the wall until he is sitting on the room's floor.] Jeff: What a chair shot! Tim: Insomnia just scrambled Phoenix's brains! [Insomnia runs and leaps towards Phoenix, planting a knee right into the side of Phoenix's head!! Insomnia backs off as Phoenix's upper body falls forward in a daze. Insomnia kneels down and grabs Phoenix by the head. He pulls Phoenix up to his feet and thrusts him directly into a standing head scissors.] Jeff: Insomnia is looking to punish Phoenix worse than ever before! [Insomnia wraps his arms around Phoenix and begins to pick up. He rests Phoenix on his shoulders in position for a powerbomb. Insomnia then charges towards the locked door and puts all of his power into it! The door clangs open with the snap of the lock! Phoenix and Insomnia fall to the floor in a rush, each man a bit shaken.] Tim: They're out of the room! Jeff: Somebody should tell the dummies they're going backwards! [Insomnia is the first up, with Phoenix close behind. Insomnia measures Phoenix up and connects with a right hand knocking him into the wall. Phoenix shakes the punch off and comes back with a right hand of his own. Insomnia is knocked back and then gets another punch from Phoenix. Phoenix then charges and dives with a clothesline, knocking both men back into the room. Phoenix is quickly back to his feet, grabbing a table from the floor. Phoenix pulls out one set of legs and leans it against the far wall, near the ladder leading to the bell tower.] Tim: Phoenix is set to have Insomnia go through that table! [Phoenix grabs the chair that was bent over his skull and unfolds it, placing it a few feet in front of the table. As Phoenix turns, Insomnia goes for a leg sweep but Phoenix jumps up and avoids it. Phoenix comes back down as Insomnia gets to a knee. Insomnia charges and puts a shoulder into the stomach of Phoenix.] Jeff: Shoulder block into the stomach. [Phoenix tries to pull Insomnia up, but Insomnia grabs Phoenix's head and falls.] Tim: Jaw breaker! Phoenix is on the floor writhing in pain! [As Insomnia grabs Phoenix by the shirt and pulls him up, you can see blood coming from his mouth.] Jeff: Phoenix must have bit his tongue on that jaw breaker, cause he's busted open inside his mouth! Tim: Yes, I believe you're right. [Insomnia whips Phoenix towards the chair, but Phoenix reverses the whip. Insomnia runs to the chair, leaping to its seat. He's able to steady himself and not fall into the table, as he slowly turns around. Phoenix charges at him and leaps forward, spearing Insomnia off the chair and through the table against the wall!!!] Jeff: GOOD GOD!!! [From inside the arena, you can hear the crowd chanting "HOLY SHIT!"] Tim: Insomnia's head went careening into the wooden table and impacted with the cement wall! Jeff: That's concussion city, right there! [Phoenix rolls onto his side while Insomnia lies in an awkward position on the broken table. Phoenix slowly grabs ahold of the pipe ladder, which is fastened to the wall. Phoenix pulls himself up and slowly climbs up the ladder. He reaches to about where his head touches the ceiling of the room, then slowly turns around to face Insomnia. Phoenix kicks off and performs the motions, landing a VIOLENT frog splash from the ladder!!] Tim: Frog splash!! ["HWF! HWF!"] Jeff: There's no wrestling mat up there to cushion a little.. That's pure marble! Tim: Phoenix may have broken ribs or arms! This kid has NO regard for his own body! [A lull in the action comes as both men roll around on the marble floor, holding various bones and body parts.] Jeff: I guess there is no time better to say this: Kids, don't try this shit at home! [Phoenix is once again the first to his feet and grabs the ladder. Phoenix begins his ascent, slowly inching his way up the ladder and into the bell tower. Insomnia rolls over to the ladder and also begins his climb. Phoenix has made it into the bell tower, which is where the new camera shot is from. He lies on the floor of the room, just beside the large bell. Slowly but surely, you see Insomnia's hands grab ahold of the room floor and pull himself up and onto the floor.] Tim: This match has made it to the bell tower! Jeff: Oh, goody! Someone's going to fly! Tim: You're such a compassionate person... [Phoenix struggles to his feet and limps over to Insomnia, grabbing him by the hair. Phoenix pulls Insomnia to his feet and lifts a knee into his face. Phoenix then twirls around and slams Insomnia into the bell, letting out a loud "GOOOONNNNGGGG!!"] Tim: OOH! That bell is coming into play! [Insomnia elbow Phoenix in his already bleeding mouth then grabs Phoenix by the head and throws him into the bell!] ["GOOONNNNGGGG!!"] Jeff: Now it's Insomnia's turn! Tim: At least they're sharing! Jeff: ...sharing beatings to each other! [Insomnia grabs Phoenix by the head again and turns towards the large pane glass window, stained with the image the sun rising over Mary and the baby Jesus. In a bit of harmonious moment of Zen, the camera stays on the glass. Destroying all that was holy, Insomnia slams Phoenix with such force, the stain glass window is shattered!! Screams are heard from below as glass falls to the floor of the church.] Tim: What the hell is wrong with them?! They broke a window with the baby Jesus on it, inside a church, and on Christmas Eve!!! Jeff: Jesus Christ, that's horrible.. Ooops. [Tim sighs as the window they broke leads into the church. The fans can now see first hand the mayhem inside the bell tower.] Jeff: Tim, one side of the bell tower leads inside this church... but the other side, leads directly to the cemetery outside the church!! [Phoenix is busted open from the window but gets in an elbow to the eye socket of Insomnia, knocking him back into the bell. Out of the opening from the room below, a man crawls into the bell tower.] Tim: It's... it's... it's David Zakin!! [Zakin comes up as if he going for Insomnia but instead nails Phoenix with a huge right hand! Phoenix is knocked back into the cement wall of the tower and walks back out into a huge superkick!!] [Insomnia has a mic, from somewhere, and speaks into in it his tired, beaten voice. David Zakin stands next to Insomnia now, listening to his every word] Insomnia: I've done some serious thinking over the past week now. I went to my aunts hometown, went threw all the terrible memories I have had in my childhood. And I want to change that..... [The crowd gaspes as they are not sure what Insomnia is saying, but they know it's big.] Insomnia: I don't want this to go down as a win for Insomnia, a title victory for Insomnia, none of that shit, INSOMNIAS DEAD! [The crowd cheers Insomnia's last words. Insomnia looks over at Zakin and shakes Zakin's hand! Insomnia looks back over the Bell Tower into the crowd.] Insomnia: Insomnia is no more! From now on, you can call me "The Original Prankster", JD BRADY! [As JD Brady finishes, Phoenix crawls to his feet and surprises David Zakin from behind with a forearm from behind. Phoenix then nails JD Brady with a punch to the nose, knocking him to the floor.] Tim: Phoenix is back up! [Phoenix pulls Zakin up and kicks him in the gut. Applying a standing head scissors, Phoenix lifts David Zakin vertical then drops him with a piledriver onto the cement floor!! JD Brady is back up and runs at Phoenix. Phoenix kicks him in the mid section and grabs JD Brady in a front chancery, then switches it over in a rear chancery, lifting JD Brady up and drops him with an inverted implant DDT!!] Jeff: INTO THE ASHES ON THE CEMENT FLOOR!!! Tim: INCREDIBLE!! [Phoenix is quick to get up, grabbing JD Brady and bringing him up. Phoenix turns and throws JD Brady over the bell tower out into the cemetery!!] Jeff: OH...MY...GOD!!! Tim: PHOENIX IS THE HARDCORE CHAMPION!! [As "Close the Door" plays and the fans give Phoenix a mixed reaction, he climbs up onto the overlooking cement barrier to the cemetery below!] Tim: Get him down from there!! Jeff: That's 30 feet up! JD Brady just fell that distance and now... what is that psycho going to do?! [Phoenix lets out a war cry and spreads his arms spread eagle then leaps off!! The crowd gasps as the camera rushes to the edge, just in time to see Phoenix land a splash from 30 feet up onto JD Brady, both lying on the sloped cemetery!!] Tim: HOLY SHIT!!! Jeff: CHRIST ALMIGHTY, PHOENIX AND JD BRADY ARE DEAD!!! [The sound of ambulance sirens can already be heard as EMTs rush to the two men. The crowd is going ecstatic while "Close the Door" continues to play.] Jeff: JESUS, THAT WAS SADISTIC!! Tim: I don't mean to take away from that spectacular match; but I'm being told that we have to go to the back... [The cameras cut to HWF President Johnny Drake's office. He is on decked out in the same clothes from earlier in the night, and is sitting in a swivel chair talking on the phone. Drake looks shocked and angry. You hear him mutter something into the phone.] Johnny Drake: So what's this BIG news, anyway? [Johnny listens to the person over the phone's answer.] Johnny Drake: ...oh SHIT!! [Johnny pounds his fist down on the desk, breaking the keyboard tray right off of it.] Johnny Drake: ...How the fuck did that happen? Doesn't the President get notified of anything anymore!?! [Drake starts listening intently. He spots the camera and gets a REALLY pissed off look on his face. Johnny grabs a stapler and chucks it at the camera, nearly breaking the lens. The camera man falls down on the ground, as the shot cuts back to ringside.] Tim: What the hell was that all about!?! Jeff: No clue... but I've never EVER seen Johnny Drake that mad... Tim: Well folks, let's forget about that... it's time for our Main Event. [As the lights in the arena dim a cloud of smoke filters onto the entrance way. Green and white lights flash through the fog. Out of no where the words "fuck you I won't do what you tell me" blares over the P.A. as a harsh guitar strikes and a loud explosion happens in the entranceway. A few moments later Extream emurges with a chair in his left hand. He walks till he is completely out of the smoke and leans on the the chair with his left hand. Suddenly he throws his right hand up in the air and another smaller explosion happens behind him. Then he starts to walk to the ring. He pushes the chair in the ring under the bottom rope and rolls in himself. He grabs the chair, stands up and puts both hands in the air, one holding the chair. Extream, then, throws the chair into the corner and stands near it. He looks around at the fans getting a big reaction.] Tim: Extream came back strong in the later parts of the year 2000, but he's been looking sloppy lately. Jeff: Yeah... it's like he doesn't care anymore. Tim: Well, I'm sure he's determined for this match. Jeff: Hopefully...
 [The lights fade out, as orange lights start to strobe through the crowd. The voice of Rykopathe mutters out "Cause I'm one step closer...", followed by "One Step Closer" by Linkin Park blasting throughout the arena. J. Simon Rykopathe emerges from the back to a mix of boos and cheers. With a chair in hand, he waives off the crowd, and walks into the ring. Rykopathe ignores the ref, and walks over to Extream. He drops his chair right next to Extream's, and the two begin talking shit to each other.] Jeff: Uh-oh, it looks like there might be a little bad blood there between Rykopathe and Extream. Tim: I wonder if we'll see this team turning on each other by the night's end. Jeff: Probably... Lance will teach them some manners though... Tim: Oh, lord... [As "Blood Brothers" by Papa Roach blasts from the P.A. system the crowd explodes into cheers. Silver and gold strobe lights begins to flash around the arena as Lance Sterling and Michael Trey emerge from the curtain; Lance with his World Title Belt. Both tXa members stop at the top of the entranceway and look at each other. Suddenly, an explosion goes off behind them and both men begin dashing towards the ring area. Instead of sliding in however, both men stop at the apron to dig out weapons.] Tim: What are they doing!?! Jeff: Lance is gonna take this match Hard to the fuckin' Core!! Tim: And what about Trey? Jeff: WHO!?! [Lance pulls out two tables at a time, as Trey pulls out a 12 foot tall ladder. Trey leans the ladder up against the ring, and tries to help Sterling with the tables into the ring. Suddenly, however, Rykopathe and Extream run at tXa and drop both members with a double baseball-slide dropkick; sending Trey and Sterling down to the church floor HARD. The bell sounds. Extream continues his attack on Trey, as Rykopathe squares off against the World Champ. Rykopathe picks up Sterling and immediately slams him right back down onto the table. He picks him up again, but slams him right down again. On the other side of the arpon, Extream is just pounding on Trey's head; obviously trying to make him bleed for the Pennsylvania crowd.] Tim: And the team of Rykopathe and Extream are dominating in the early going. Jeff: C'mon Lance, get up buddy!! [Rykopathe picks up Sterling a third time and rolls him into the ring. Extream does the same with Trey. Rykopathe and Extream look at each other and each give the other a small nod. They proceed to lift up one of the two tables and slide it into the ring. Rykopathe slides in himself, as Extream starts to setup the second table at the same time. Sterling and Trey are both to their feet now, and are walking at Rykopathe. Rykopathe turns around for Extream, but is shocked to see he's still outside of the ring. As Rykopathe turns aroun, he gets kicked in the gut by both Sterling and Trey, and then irish whipped to the ropes. He bounces off and Sterling leap frogs him. Trey kicks him in the gut, and then Rykopathe gets hit with a standing side kick/sweep kick combo; planting him on the back of his neck in the middle of the ring.] Tim: Oh my god!! Jeff: Such brutality... I love it!! Tim: That was The Apocalypse by The X-Treme Alliance!! [Extream finally finishes setting up the table, and then slides into the ring. Trey goes for the cover, but is instantly stopped by Extream. Trey and Extream start brawling towards a corner, as Lance and Rykopathe piar off on the mat. Lance gains the obvious advantage on Rykopathe and goes right for the knees. He drops his leg across Rykopathe's right knee a few times, flips him over, and locks on a reverse figure four; while holding onto the ropes for added leverage.] Jeff: Hollywood and Vine Leglock!! Tim: Holding those rop... wait, this is no DQ... I almost forgot! [Sterling continues wrenching on the hold, as Trey lifts up Extream onto the top rope for a superplex. Trey begins scaling the ropes, but gets booted off by Extream two times. Trey eventually becomes frustrated and dashes towards the corner; where Extream gets a boot up a third time, dropping Trey STRAIGHT DOWN to the mat. Extream makes sure he's down and then hops up onto his feet.] Jeff: What's he trying!?! [Extream looks down at all three men from the top rope. He gathers himself and then leaps off, performing one of the highest frogsplashes in history right down on the chest of.... Lance Sterling! The leglock on Rykopathe is instantly broken, as Extream stays on top of Sterling for the pin.] Tim: That's his finisher!! Extreme Measures!! Jeff: No, Sterling... kickout!! [One... ...Two... ....Th...Trey breaks up the pin!!] Jeff: Whew, close one... [Extream fires back on Trey, sending him reeling into the corner, as Rykopathe picks up the nearly dead Sterling and starts kicking him in the gut. Rykopathe irish whips Sterling to the corner and Sterling slams in hard. Immediately, Rykopathe picks up one of his or Extream's steel chairs from the corner and charges at Sterling. Sterling tries to duck, but it's no use. Rykopathe blasts Sterling right in the forehead with the chair, sending him flopping down to the canvas. Extream yells something to Rykopathe and then sends in Trey, who also gets blasted with the steel chair; denting it into a 90 degree angle.] Jeff: Jesus Lord Motherfucking Christ!! Tim: *sarcastically* Nice mouth... especially at this time of year!! Jeff: Sorry. Those were just... just... Tim: Painful looking!?! Jeff: Precisly. [Rykopathe is about to go for the cover when Extream stops him. Extream points to the tables, and both men begin smiling wickedly at each other. Rykopathe grabs the table in the ring and sets it up diagnolly in the corner, as Extream picks up Trey and rolls him onto the apron of the ring. Rykopathe picks up Lance Sterling and throws him into the opposite corner of the table. Rykopathe gives the crowd a short scream and then irish whips Sterling towards the table. Sterling, however, holds onto Rykopathe's arm, twist it, and pulls him into a modified olympic slam right in front of the table.] Jeff: Box Office Smash!! The Greatest is coming back!! Tim: The Greatest may be, but look at Trey... [On the arpon of the ring, right in front of the table, Extream has Trey locked in a standing head scissors. Lance goes for a cover on Rykopathe, but neither Trey or Extream recognize it.] Jeff: Yes... Yes!! [One... ...Two... .....THR...KICKOUT!!] Jeff: No... No!! Tim: Jesus, Jeff... it's just a match. [Sterling gets pissed off and starts pounding Rykopathe in the face, breaking his forehead open and spilling blood onto the canvas. On the apron, Extream is still struggling to lift up Trey for a powerbomb. Trey eventually breaks the hold, drops down, and low blows Extream hard; right in the groin! While trying to catch his breath, Trey looks over at the table and proceeds to push it away from the apron area.] Tim: That's a head's down move, followed by a head's up move!! Jeff: *sarcastically* Wow, did you go to comedian school!?! Tim: <8>sarcastically as well Did you!?! [Trey gets to his feet and steps through the ropes. Extream is hunched over on the apron still. Trey pauses for a second, spits on his hands, and grabs the top rope. In an instant, Trey vaults himself over the top rope, hooks on a double chickenwing on Extream, and drops him down with a UNBELIEVABLE double arm DDT onto the apron, while falling to the church floor himself.] Jeff: HOLY SHIT!! Tim: THAT WAS THE MOST SPECTACULAR THING I'VE EVER SEEN!! Jeff: That was... was... was... like a, uh... Slingshot Flash on Pain onto the apron!! Tim: Good Call Jeff!! Jeff: Fuck... that was awe-inspiring... [Extream starts clutching his skull, and then rolls off the arpon next to Trey. Inside of the ring, Sterling has a standing head scissors slapped on Rykopathe. Without pausing, Sterling lifts up Rykopathe in a powerbomb, spins around, and slams him to the mat HARD with an earth-shattering liger bomb. Lance goes for the pin.] Jeff: Liger Bomb!! Tim: Could that be it!?! [One... ...Two... ...THR...KICKOUT!!] Tim: Rykopathe gets a shoulder up!! [Lance stands up with a pissed off look on his face. He walks towards the corner to grab a chair. Lance looks at the chair and then out at the crowd, who are cheering for him to whack Rykopathe ove the skull with it. Rykopathe rises to his feet and Sterling drops the chair. Instead of the chairshot, Sterling runs at Rykopathe and drops him to the canvas with a high jumping knee. Rykopathe drops to the ground and quickly gets up. He runs at Sterling by the ropes, but gets backdropped over' ALL the way to the outside onto the heap that is Trey and Extream. Lance is left alone in the ring, as the entire arena chants "H-W-F, H-W-F".] Tim: And Lance Sterling is in control of this abnormal World Title Match!! Jeff: Of course he is... He's the Greatest!! Tim: He just might be... [Trey is the first up on the outside, and he starts stomping on both Rykopathe and Extream. He pulls Rykopathe to his feet and irish whips him into the ladder. Trey, then, picks up Extream and tries to irish whips him into the ladder as well. Extream reverses though, and Rykopathe moves, sending Trey crashing into the 12 foot ladder and crumbling down to the ground again. Seeing this, Sterling slides to the outside, but gets clotheslined right to the ground by Rykopathe.] Tim: OH! Could this be a comeback!?! [Sterling starts to get up but gets pounded back down to the ground by Rykopathe and Extream. Extream finishes with Sterling and then walks over to Trey. He grabs Trey by the forehead and smashes the back of his head into the ladder again. Trey's head bounces off the steel, and he falls to the ground in agony. As Rykopathe goes to work on Sterling, Extream sets up the ladder so it's suspended between the ring arpon and the guardrail. He yells something at Rykopathe and both men get onto the apron; Rykopathe with Sterling by the hair.] Jeff: Oh shit... what are they thinking!?! Tim: I have no clue, Jeff. [Rykopathe grabs Sterling by the neck and the thigh and lifts him up in a press slam on the apron. Extream positions himself on the other side of the horizontal ladder and awaits for Rykopathe to drop Sterling. Rykopathe does so, slightly turning Sterling to the side; so that Extream can grab his head and drop him down across the suspended ladder with a modified x-factor. The crowd gasps as Sterling's body nearly snaps in half.] Tim: Oh... sweet... JESUS!! Jeff: The Greatest was almost broken straight in half!! Tim: And that's putting it lightly!! [Rykopathe and Extream spot the opening, and take it into high gear. Both men hop back on the apron and start scaling the top rope; as Sterling lays motionless, slumped over the suspended ladder. Rykopathe and Extream both stand on the top rope and dive off for Sterling; both attempting HUGE frogsplashes. Right before impact, however, Trey pulls Sterling off the ladder and both Rykopathe and Extream crash down HARD onto the unforgiving steel. Both men drop to the mat hard, joining both members of tXa. All four men lie in a heap as the fans scream out "H-W-F, H-W-F".] Jeff: I've said it before, and I'll say it again... Tim: What's that Jeff? Jeff: This is OOC - Out of Control!! Tim: Well said... [Trey is the first to his feet. He immediately grabs the ladder and stes it up the way it's supposed to be right next to the ringpost. He then begins setting up the table about 10 or 15 feet away from it, as the other three men begin to reach their feet as well. Rykopathe attempts to clothesline the rising Sterling, but Sterling ducks and Rykopathe drops Extream to the ground instead.] Tim: Oh no!! [Rykopathe turns around and this time catches Sterling with a clothesline, sending him down to the church floor hard. Trey sees this, and runs over to Rykopathe. The two starts brawling, still on the outside, as Extream rises to his feet. Trey gains the upperhand, and plants Rykopathe with an inverted atomic drop. Rykopathe stays on his feet and turns towards Extream... who drops him down to the floor with a URANAGE!!] Tim: Hey!! Jeff: I knew it was gonna happen... I knew it!! Tim: And now Rykopathe and Extream are at ends!! [Extream starts to rise up, but gets thrown into the ring by Trey.] Tim: Finally, the match is gonna move back into the squared-circle. [Trey helps Sterling to his feet, and Sterling slowly crawls into the ring. Trey starts to beat down on Rykopathe on the outside, and eventually slaps on a modified camel clutch, while punching the already bloody face of Rykopathe. Inside of the ring, Sterling is now on Extream; trying to break his head open as well. Sterling stops the punching, and drags Extream up to his feet. He applies a standing head scissors, and quickly lifts Extream up for a powerbomb. Extream reverses in mid-move, however, and drops Sterling straight down on his head with a DDT.] Jeff: OH SHIT!! Tim: TOO THE EXTREME IN THE CENTER OF THE RING!! [Extream looks over at Trey, who is now trying to position Rykopathe on the table on the outside, and immediately goes for the cover.] Jeff: No... JESUS CHRIST Trey!! Get in there!! [One... ....Two... ....THRE... KICKOUT!!] Jeff: OH, THANK GOD!! Tim: Somehow Lance sterling just kicked out of Too the Extreme!! Jeff: Greatness... pure greatness!! [Sterling lays motionless, as Extream slowly stands back up. Trey, now has Rykopathe on the table and is taunting it up for the fans. Just then, "Hollywood Babylon" by Crazy Town blares out over the speakers. Ethan Scruggs steps out in his fancy new wrestling attire, just slightly torn, with a mic in hand. He casually makes it half way to the ring before stopping and lifting the mic up to his mouth. Extream and Trey watch Scruggs, to see what he'll do next. Scruggs slowly walks down to ringside as he begins speaking.] Ethan Scruggs: Hey Extream... what’s going on, bud? It was just a few weeks ago that I was making you look like panty waste in front of the whole world. I sent you home with a sore jaw, and you had the audacity to just ignore it. I guess you didn’t know who you were dealing with at the time, but don’t think that I’ve forgotten about you for just one second. At first, we fought over Gavin, and now... now I just feel like kicking your ass for good measure. I’m not finished with you, Extream. No, not just yet. It ain’t over until the fat lady sings... so call your wife at home and tell her to pop in her old Barbara Streisand tape! [Scruggs drops the mic, runs past Trey, and dives into the ring. Extream and Scruggs begin brawling with each other, as Sterling rests up against a turnbuckle half-concious. Extream gains the upperhand and whips Scruggs to the ropes. Extream goes for a clothesline but Scruggs put the breaks on, catches him, and drops him down to the ring canvas with a STIFF olympic slam.] Tim: What's Scruggs' doing!?! Jeff: I don't know... but he just hit Extream with The Climax!! [Scruggs immediately rolls out of the ring and raises his arms in the air. He takes one final look at Extream and then starts leaving ringside. At the same time, Michael Trey is clmbing the 12 foot ladder, with Rykopathe on the table below. Scruggs stops at the entrance way to watch on. In the ring, Extream is trying to pull himself up to his feet, while yelling at Scruggs to come back and fight.] Jeff: There's an opening Lance... TAKE IT!! [Almost as if he heard Jeff, Sterling walks over to Extream and locks on an inverted facelock. At that same instance, Trey reaches the top of the ladder. Sterling raises his free arm in the air, as Trey makes an "X" with his arms. They take one last look at each and then go to work. Trey dives off the top of the 12 foot ladder as if for a moonsault, as Sterling lifts up Extream for an inverted suplex. Suddenly, though, the lights cut out and you hear similtaneous crashes and smashes all around the ringside area.] Tim: I can only assume what happened there!! [The lights come back on to find Trey and Rykopathe lying in the shards of the table; with Sterling covering Extream inside of the ring.] Jeff: YES, PIN HIM REF!! Tim: They must have hit Lights Out and the Director's Cut at the same time!! [The ref slides down at goes for the cover.] [One.... ....Two.... ....THREE!!!] Jeff: Oh, HELL YEAH!! Tim: Lance Sterling and Michael Trey have won the match!! Jeff: And Sterling is STILL the World Champion!! [Papa Roach's "Blood Brothers" hits the speakers as the ref raises Sterling's hand and then tries to bring Trey back into the ring. Trey finally gets to his feet and gets his hand raised as well. Trey and Sterling look at each other, then to the downed Rykopathe and Extream. The referee hands Sterling the HWF title, which he proudly raises up in the air. Trey grabs one side of the title and raises it to, so both of them stand with the HWF title. The crowd explodes with cheers at the two HWF legends standing victorious. Lance climbs to one turnbuckle, holding the HWF title, as Trey climbs a turnbuckle opposite to him. Both raise their arms in the air again.] Tim: What a night! After this win, Trey and Sterling get a tag title shot! They've beaten J. Simon Rykopathe and Extream, what's next?? Jeff: They'll win the tag titles, too! Because Lance Sterling is the greatest! [Trey and Sterling begin to leave ringside.] Jeff: Man, what a show!! Tim: So many new appearances, so many returning guys, tonight was one of the most memorable night in this feds histor- [Suddenly, the bell in the bell tower begins ringing out throughout the church.] Tim: What the fuck!?! [The tolling continues, as the fans sit in confusion.] Jeff: Can we get a camera out there or something!?! Tim: Yeah, there must be one left from the Hardcore Title Match... [Sure enough, the shot cuts to a camera outside, which is about 100 feet away from the tower. All you can see is a silhouette of a man doing a crucifix pose atop the bell tower. At that, the bell stops tolling and the fans are left in mystery; until "Pisschrist" by Fear Factory BLASTS throughout the speakers in the church. The lyrics 'WHERE IS YOUR SAVIOR NOW' repeat over and over, as the figure remains motionless in the crucifix pose atop the tower.] Tim: Oh shit... [The song continues and the figure doesn't move. The camera attmpts to do a close up, but you still cannot make out who it is. Just then, the shot cuts to black as the copywright information appears on the bottom of the screen. A short promo for the HWF's next pay-per-view entitled 'Holiday Hangover 3' is played, and then the shot fades to black; where it stays.]
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