 [March 25th, 2001 | 6:58 p.m.] [The FBI warning pass over the screen, followed by a plain HWF logo fading in… and fading out after a few seconds. The black screen flashes with white, accompanied by a “whooshing” sound. The screen returns to black once again, but now there is an eerie choir singing in the background. A whisper of a voice calls out over the choir – the voice of the Hardcore Hoodlum.] ONE… [The black screen fades to a clip of Kyle Corman holding the Canadian title belt. That fades into Chris Styles standing on the top ropes with his arms raised over his head. The screen returns to black.] TWO… [Fades to a shot of Rage, screaming at the top of his lungs in the middle of the ring; fades into JD Brady, performing his “Blue’s Hardcore Clues” promo; fades into Mayhem swinging his chainsaw in the air; fades into Renegade standing at the top of the ramp with Amy. Screen returns to black.] THREE… [Teen Angst fades onto the screen. Spike is sitting on top of a green dumpster, with Thrilla leaning up against it; fades into the Wrecking Crew sitting at a bar; fades into the Warriors of the Rising Sun – Tatsumi making a cut-throat sign and Jin standing behind him, holding some jobber by the shoulders for Tatsumi to cut with his scythe. Fades to black.] FOUR… [A shot of Tempest versus Kyle Solomon for the Smackdown! title comes up on the screen; fades into Gavin Coens and David Zakin beating each other into the ground at a Saturday Suicide; fades into a single clip of Blackjack, strolling down to the ring with a smirk on his face. Fades to black.] FIVE… [Chris Davison appears on the screen, hitting the Halo Jump onto Silky Palms off of a steel cage; fades into Night Stalker kicking Tempest in the side of the head as she tries to get out of the wreckage of a table; fades into Silky Palms at a desk on the Red light District. Fades to black.] SIX… [Phoenix shows up on the screen, laughing beside Bisc Limpkit and Claire Matthews; fades into Michael Trey glaring over at the three in agony. Fades to black.] SEVEN... [Sterling’s determined face comes up on the screen, followed by him on the top turnbuckle, holding the HWF world title in the air; fades into Rykopathe laughing uncontrollably, with the same title slung over his shoulder; fades into Sterling on his knees in the middle of the ring, staring at his hands in disbelief; fades into a mocking Jonathan Storm, walking backwards while facing Sterling. Fades to black.] The counting game’s up... now it’s time to play another game... are you ready to play? [… Limp Bizkit’s “My Generation” cuts the eerie music off…] ][…MY GE-GE-GENERATION!][ [The black screen quickly turns to one showing Spike holding Rickey Williams in an Octopus stretch, complete with barbed wire wrapped around his limbs, straining back and forth. Intensity pulses through his eyes with each wrench of William’s neck…] [Trey drop toeholds Phoenix into a burning wall, sending the flaming bricks toppling over his body, while Trey lays on his stomach, grasping his injured neck…] [Chris Styles’ head is shown bleeding profusely, with the blood covering his face…] [Two cars smash head-on into each other, with the camera entering a strobe mode, focusing on Corman’s body slumped over the car door, and then over to David Zakin’s limp form curled up into a ball on the concrete beside the wreckage of the two cars…] [Rage holds the face of JD Brady in an Iron Claw, pushing him to the floor with his vice-like grip…] [Sterling holds Rykopathe in a Uranage, hauls him into the air and spins, bouncing Rykopathe’s back off the mat with his Attitude Adjuster…] [Jon Storm and Sterling trade punches quickly, one, after another, after another…] [A slow motion clip of Trey, arching his back in mid-air with a moonsault…] ][…GET UP (GET UP)!! MY GE-GE-GENERATION!][ [Thrilla, Billy Williams and Jin are all shown falling off the side of a cell, breaking through a set of tables, with Thrilla holding a double neckbreaker…] [Tempest runs right at Kyle Solomon, sliding underneath his legs, bouncing up from her knees to her feet, and then swings around him with a head-scissor takedown…] [Gavin Coens and David Zakin are shown rolling around on a concrete floored area, laying in hard body shots and head shots furiously…] [Silky shuffles forwards, delivering a sidekick to someone’s jaw…] [Billy Williams jumps off of Rickey Williams’ shoulders onto Chris Thrilla with a leg drop, nearly sending them both through the top of a cell…] ][…So go ahead and talk shit, talk shit about me! And go ahead and talk shit – about my GE-GE-GENERATION…!!][ [Michael Trey, Lance Sterling and Jayson Starr are shown standing in the same ring, united as the X-Treme Alliance…] [Chris Styles, Jon Storm, Chris Thrilla and Spike stand in a corner of the ring, raising their arms to the crowd as the fully united Street Syndicate…] ][…‘Cause we don’t, don’t give a fuck and… ][ [Renegade has one of the Anti-Heroes up for the Fist of Rage, dropping them down simultaneously with Trey and Sterling, who have also hit their respective finishers on the other Anti-Heroes…] ][…we won’t, ever give a fuck man… ][ [Mayhem stands in the ring, laughing like a madman…] ][…till you – you give a fuck about me… ][ [HWF superstars flash quickly up and off the screen, getting nearly every single wrestler…] ][… and my generation! ][ [The screen returns to black once again, with the audio cut off. The faint buzzing of the TV screen becomes louder, and louder, and louder, until it is no longer the television – it’s the intro to Hollywood Babylon by Crazy Town…] ][Reactive… Knowledge of self…][ [Suddenly, the scene comes into view – a church. A plain, simple church. Stained glass windows, large ornamental crucifixes, flower arrangements, a white-veiled altar, varnished pews… and the full compliment of the Street Syndicate, accompanied by Tempest and Chris Davison. Spike stands behind the altar in his black Italian suit and red collarless dress shirt. Chris Thrilla is standing near the tabernacle, dressed in similar attire, only with a wide-collared dress shirt, unbuttoned at the top, showing his silver Dragon pendant. Jon Storm is off lounging in one of the pews, stretched out, wearing a plain white shirt and electric blue Dockers pants. Chris Styles is decked out in a dark green suit with a white dress shirt and a golden chain around his neck. Tempest, sitting in the pew opposite Storm, gazing up at the stained glass windows, is wearing a silvery T-shirt, and black Overalls with two thick red stripes going down her legs. Chris Davison, who is sitting right next to her with his arm around her waist, wears his traditional backwards red cap, a tight black mesh T-shirt and baggy khaki cargos. Spike lifts his arms off the altar, smiling slightly.] Spike: And here we all are once again… the Syndicate seems to have been popping up all over the place, haven’t we? And in the most unlikely place this time, too. Who would ever have thought that we’d be in a church when the Pay Per View revolves around the seven deadly sins? Yes, obviously we’re going to be in a church, but did you take into consideration another small notion of where we are? Las Vegas. The most sinful city in the entire world… and we’re sitting inside a church. So many come in to this one small building… it doesn’t matter what they are – atheist, Jewish, catholic, drunk… they all come here to escape the absolutely sinful air of the outside world. Most of them enjoy this sinful air, however. They breathe it in as much as they can before coming in here to cleanse their souls. The only reason they do that so often is because they need a clean slate to dirty the next night while they’re busy painting the town red… it’s completely immoral… Thrilla: It’s sickening… Styles: It’s immoral… Storm: It’s a Bittersweet symphony. Thrilla: They ALL get what they deserve sooner or later, whether it’s redemption or whether it’s even more corruption. It’s kinda funny, really. They don’t care what they do up until they come inside this building… they could be fucking each other while robbing a bank on Sunday, and yet they’d still come in here expecting mercy. It’s not so simple my friends! Sometimes you pay for your actions. Sometimes your bones give way from too much running. Sometimes your devils pop up and bite you in the ass… that time is now. Pray little kiddies, ‘cause you won’t get another chance to once the night is over.
][It goes on, on and on, and on,
On and on, and on, and on, [Chris Styles gets to his feet from sitting on the end of the raised platform that the altar is positioned on. He brushes his pants off, fixing his jacket.]
][It goes on,
It goes on, on and on, and on, Styles: Greed…ones excessive desire to acquire or possess more than one needs or, more importantly, deserves. In this house of god greed is looked upon with the evilest of eyes and lashed out upon with the evilest of words. Yet in this world of power and corruption greed is somewhat of a regular occurrence. Greed has taken over North American industry, and basically runs our lives. The men at the top are the ones who possess this trait in the strongest fashion. Greed…this is the deadly sin that has been branded upon the Canadian Title match between Kyle Corman and myself, Chris Styles. [Styles runs his left hand back over his head, pushing his hair back as he takes a deep breath. Styles brings his hand from his head down the back of his neck and back to his side as he stares hard at the camera once again.] Styles: The match…one of the most deadly known to the HWF and man for that matter, a Falling From Grace Match. Such a match has the frightening potential to not only induce excruciating amounts of pain but could actually lead to the death of a competitor. The average citizen cannot understand why we as wrestlers put ourselves through such anguish and pain for a title, they can only wonder… “Is it anger that drives them? Or maybe the title has some unseen value?” Many people speculate but they will never really understand without being part of it. Even I can’t fully explain what it is that drives myself to do the, what some consider crazy, things I do in the ring. But…it is there whatever it happens to be. Sure I love the glory, the rush and excitement but any man in their right mind would not do what we do merely for such feelings, there IS something else that drives us in our actions, what it is…is “it.” [Short pause as Styles continues to stare straight into the camera.] Styles: “It” is what will drive me in battling Kyle Corman, “it” is what will drive me to throw Corman off that scaffold to what may possibly be his death, and “it” is what will lead me to victory and the Canadian Title for the second time. Corman, for you this is merely a title defense, but for me. For me this match has been a long time coming, two months to be exact. It was two months ago at Holy Night when I was thrown through a burning, melting mat of glass. Do you know how much that hurts!? And on top of all the pain I lost my Canadian Title in that very match. And since, since I have had to fight my way back up the HWF ladder of success, week in and week out I proved myself once again. And finally…finally I have been given a chance to regain the Canadian Title. This is more than a mere match for me Corman; I have worked my ass off the last two months in an effort to obtain this very match. I am not going to let the past two months go to waste Corman, you can forget that. We are under an hour away from the moment of truth, when we step in the ring, the title up for grabs, and someone emerges victorious. Who it will be seems a simple answer to me, but…I am not going to say it anymore, I’ll just prove it. Spike: It could be greed… but for the four men up next, it’s gluttony. All these men have tasted glory time and time again… and they want MORE. They can’t survive without feeling the sweet taste of victory once more… and yet, they still want it. The Hardcore, King of Violence championship title; who wants it? Renegade, Mayhem, and Rage. Storm: Or you could say: reborn, respected, and retarded. Spike: You mind, Johnny boy? Storm: How many times have I told you not to call me that? Spike: Ever since your mind started acting up on you, Johnny boy… Davison: Storm, shut your mouth. Spike was trying to say something. Spike: Thank you. Like I was saying… The three men that were mentioned don’t seem to posses anything for them to keep to themselves… so in all real fact; they’re not guilty of this sin. JD Brady is. He holds that title as if it was his firstborn child, and won’t let anyone else near because he’s afraid he’ll lose it. He keeps it close to him… every waking moment. He has it, but he still wants more. He wants the feeling he gets with that belt around his waist to be more than just that. He doesn’t want to represent the hardcore in the HWF… he wants to BE the reason this fed has the H. He strives for it selfishly every day… risking his own body to get more and more and more… even though he doesn’t need to do a damn thing. He’s a glutton for punishment, and a glutton for glory. Perhaps his sin will be thrown back at him tonight… perhaps someone else will put their head on his pedestal of gluttony…
][C-X-T, we hold our own, all eyes on us,
Grab the mike with a firm hold [Thrilla stares at the tabernacle, smirking slightly.] Thrilla: The last time I was in one of these places, there was a coffin sitting in the middle of the room. It looks a lot different when I see it without the pain in my eyes… it looks… dead. Lifeless. Completely and utterly fucked. Exactly like the god that reigns over this place. He looks down at us from beyond the clouds, feeling proud that its creations have grown so fond of him. Not all of us take delight in the fact that so many people are deluded into believing that there actually is some all powerful being shaking his finger at us from thousands of years ago to make an insignificant comment like “We should all love him.” Some of us think it’s pointless to try and place your trust in something that will NEVER show its face to you, or let its intentions for you known. Although I am one of these people… I’ll use his list of sins ‘cause they sound cool. Teen Angst versus the Wrecking Crew is, what, sloth? Sloth? Why the fuck are WE sloth? What, we didn’t do enough work for them, is that it? We haven’t proven that we can stay on our asses and be more talented and charismatic than half the HWF roster combined? We haven’t shown that every other god damned team looks as if THEY’RE the sloth’s, and not us…? Oh wait… that was the point. Nevermind my previous ranting and raving, good people of television land! Remember dropouts; when you’re evil and shit, all you have to do is go here, and your sins are forgiven. It’s a nice little piece of information, isn’t it? Back on topic… the Wrecking Crew have been dominated by Teen Angst in the past, and they’ll be dominated once again. Those lazy fucks need to get off of the barstools, take their shitty American beers and smokes out of their mouths, get to the gym, and wonder why everyone else is so much stronger than them. Once they do that, they can truly understand why everytime they go up against Teen Angst, they end up being the ass of the donkey. Heh… being the ass of the Ass… how I pity the Wrecking Crew for being twice as shitty now than they ever were before! HA! Twice as shitty as they… ass of the Ass… classic… [Thrilla begins to laugh uncontrollably, doubling over and holding his stomach. The rest of the people gathered there stare at Thrilla with baffled expressions on their faces – all expect Spike. He walks over to Thrilla and kicks two empty bottles of sacramental wine away from his feet. He turns back to the camera, shrugging his shoulders.] Spike: He made the point, at least. Give him credit for doing that much while he’s drunk. It’s a damn good thing this promo’s been taped a day in advance, otherwise I’d have to go into the match by myself… even though I’ve proven that I can handle myself against the Wrecking Crew, it would still require me to get some extra help… like a steel chain. Like the one I used on you, Rickey, last week. I’ll be bringing that to the ring tonight, don’t you worry…
][The consequences linger
It’s goes on, on and on, and on [Tempest tilts her head and peers up at the altar, her eyes rising gradually to the tall stained glass window and she smiles at the colorful picture of the crucifixion.] Tempest: The envious are looked down upon, for they are worse than the wrathful. Kindness will envelop them and they will feel remorse. I think I’ve been trying to tell people that for a long time really. What’s even more sad is that the envious never seem to find what it is they’re really looking for. Once they get whatever the object of their obsession is, they still seem to yearn for something. [She pulls her arms around her as a puff of wind from an open window blows her hair away from her eyes.] Tempest: But in our world, in the world of professional wrestling, there’s always something more. People like Daviad Zakin have questioned whether I’ll really go far beyond the Smackdown! title... but why should I think of beyond? Is the Smackdown! title not enough? Is it merely a stepping stone to some people? And now that this little doubt has infected my mind, can I be satisfied with it? After tonight we’ll know. After tonight, when I’m still the champion, it’ll be up to me to decide if I’m satisfied, and for the rest to find their own peace, and escape the envy of something they weren’t able to possess. [“Hollywood Babylon” slowly fades into “Unforgiven” by Metallica… At Tempest’s last comment, Chris gets up from beside her, walking over to one of the dimly lit corners of the small church. He leans against the back wall with an ominous aura surrounding him. He looks up, casting his face into the light from a nearby window, blinking at the sudden rush of brightness.]
][New blood joins this herd…
With time the trap draws in,
He’s known, Davison: Three men... Night Stalker, Silky Palms, and myself. [He shakes his head slowly, light reflecting off the brim of his backwards hat.] Davison: We all lust for something in our lives. Silky for Tempest's flesh... Stalker for my demise, and myself… I yearn to stop both of their desires and wishes. [He takes a few steps out of the shadows, the thud of his foot echoing softly throughout the silent church.] Davison: We each have our own reality... Silky believes he's the greatest thing since sliced bread, Stalker believes that he is feared the world over... I believe that I cannot be stopped in this confrontation. [He looks directly into the camera.] Davison: Tonight, our realities clash. There will be only one reality, and it will be mine. Silky will not have Tempest, and Night Stalker will not destroy me. Their lusts will prove useless.
][They dedicate their lives,
Throughout his life, the same Spike: From the corners of the earth to deep pits of hell… I don’t know what that means really, but it has something to do with things being just beyond your reach. It’s right in front of your face, but… you just can’t grab it. Every step you take leads you closer and closer… but still not close enough. Just within your grasp… Trey’s revenge is like this. Phoenix has nearly killed him on multiple occasions, same as Bisc… but he manages to get up from broken bones and the likes. What was the one thing that has and will still paralyze him, though? The thought of the woman he loves rejecting him. He can feel the stiffening pain crawling up from his feet… up his leg… over his arms… and seeping right into his head. He’s a sick individual now… those thoughts have turned him into a madman. He keeps trying to grasp at the things that are in front of his face, but sadly… they continue to evade him. It’s a shame, really… but not for Phoenix. This man will make his name off of Trey’s failures. He’s already looked upon as a force to be reckoned with, but things go his way tonight… he’ll be immortalized in the name of Michael trey’s demise. People will remember him beating, and beating, and beating Michael Trey into the ground… people will remember him for his unleashed wrath. [The camera shot shifts over to Jon Storm, who is still lying back on the pew. His arms rest behind his head, supporting his neck.] Storm: Now what do we have? Pride? Hmph… that’s a laugh. Sterling has none left. I beat his ass fair and square, and I shut him up. Now he wants chance to regain the pride he lost to me… good luck, “Greatest”, because that dream’s going to take a lot of it to be lived. You will NEVER beat me, Sterling. You don’t have the skill OR the balls to take me on… keep dreaming, Lance, that’s the only place you will ever have what it takes to beat me. [Chris Thrilla looks up from the empty green bottle in front of his face. He’s holding it between his index and thumb, rolling it around in front of the tabernacle. Listening to Storm’s words, he picks up where Jon left off.] Thrilla: Now… lets see here. On the second half of this match, we have J. Simon Rykopathe against Lance Sterling. Rykopathe’s been blown up, hung, stabbed, beaten, broken, bloodied, pissed on and fucked up in more ways than I can describe… and Sterling’s been on top of the HWF since he showed his god damned, B movie acting, perfect-face-for radio, cock-sucking, Hogan-cloned ass in this fed! He’s not going anywhere, even if he does lose. Fuck… it’s the unstoppable force meeting the immovable object. Now that’s messed up… even so – I don’t care which one of these two win, as long as they both end up in pain for the rest of their lives, I’ll be peachy fucking keeny. Words from the Killah, dropouts, take notes. Pride has nothing to do with this match… it’s pain. These two have so much frustration, anger and pain through their veins… I wouldn’t be surprised if one of them is crippled tonight. Not in the slightest. [Spike hops up onto the altar, kicking away the various item scattered about the white veil. He stamps his foot down to draw attention to himself. After doing this, he looks at each of the people gathered in the church. He smirks slightly, looking at the camera.] Spike: Take a good look. Here you have the true rising stars of the HWF. Each one having their own weaknesses, true… but our strengths outnumber our weaknesses tenfold. Tempest, with he cheery disposition, can make any situation seem like a party can break out… it’s also good camouflage. You see a pretty smiling little face… what you don’t see is the raw determination. Underestimation is what makes her powerful… no one really thinks she can do anything – but she always seems to end up kicking SOMEONE’S ass… Chris Davison. This guy’s the vet… he has the ring experience. He makes little to no mistakes… and he has Tempest. She’s enough to make another man make a few mistakes during a match… Chris Styles - The one who really deserves a push here in the HWF. He’s the punching bag for the executives who don’t know their main eventers when they see them. Not anymore, though… now, Styles has learned to punch back… and he’s not going to show any remorse when doing it. Jon Storm. The Syndicate’s only platinum record holder. What else does he have going for him…? In my opinion… not fucking much. Storm: Hey, fuck you! Spike: And fuck you in return! I never wanted you here in the first place! You’re a waste of space! Storm: You wanna do something about it, then? What, you want me to beat your ass into the ground to prove to you that I’m more worthy of being in the Syndicate? Hey Spikey… who’s main eventing? Spike: Hey Johnny-boy… who’s facing Sterling? Uh huh… oops, that would be you, wouldn’t it? Johnny, please shut your mouth before my foot is inserted into it. Storm: Try it!
][What I’ve felt, what I’ve known, [The two other Syndicate members jump on top of Storm, dragging him away from the scene, trying to calm him down. Tempest and Davison accompany them all to the back, leaving Spike on his own.] Spike: Now that my mood has been completely ruined… I might as well just finish this off on a happy note. Teen Angst wins tonight. Come Hell or High Water, we’ve shown that we can, even when it’s four on two. You have no chance tonight… and by the way – the Syndicate will NOT be coming down… so Joanna had better not get involved. If she does… well… we have a small backup plan. And I do mean... small… right Tempest? [Tempest shouts from the other side of the church.] Tempest: Huh?! I can’t hear you! I was too busy talking to Chris about the small backup plan you guys have for later! [Spike, shaking his head, continues in a distant voice, as if he was thinking of something else.] Spike: Tonight, everything will come together. Pain, anger, hatred, love, desire… everything will be answered. Every comment will be made. Every tear will be shed. Everything and anything will happen tonight – the night when sins are praised, and where sins are forgotten as soon as they are committed… Everyone needs their little piece of heaven… but to get it, they must first bow to the rules of the seven… greed, gluttony, sloth, envy, lust, wrath, and pride… these are the seven. Follow them all, and you’ll be led into eternal damnation. But on the way… it’ll be a fun ride… ladies and gentlemen, I am proud to announce... Hardcore Productions and the Hardcore Wrestling Federation bring to you… SEVEN. ["Unforgiven" continues to play, as they cut to the inside of the Lawlor Events Center in Las Vegas, Nevada. About 7,500 fans are pakced into the arena and all on their feet chanting "H-W-F, H-W-F"... The camera pans around the arena, to catch the fist-pumping, beer-drinking, crazy fans scurrying to their seats for the first match of the night. The shot now cuts to the ring, where you see Tim Miller and Jeff Robinson standing in suits. Tim looks very formal, in a black three-piece ensemble - while Jeff is decked out in a shiny red suit. Tim looks Jeff over, as he waits for the fans to quit down. "Unforgiven" becomes louder and louder until an explosion goes off directly under the Extream Screen. The song suddenly closes, as the only noise heard is the chanting. Tim and Jeff take in all of the fans in the arena, and then smile at each other. Tim slowly grabs a mic from his pocket, turns it on, and raises it to his mouth to yell...] Tim: THIS IS THE HWF!! [HUGE pop from the fans.] Tim: THE TRUE HARDCORE WRESTLING FEDERATION!! [Another HUGE pop from the fans.] Tim: AND THIS... IS... SEVEN!! [A third HUGE pop from the fans. Tim now talks calmer now.] Tim: Greed... Gluttony... Sloth... Envy... Lust... Wrath... and Pride. These are the Seven Deadly Sins which live in the world today. And what better spot than wrestling, and what better federation than the HWF, and what better city than Sin City... [Tim is cut off by the fans cheering for their home city.] Tim: ...and what better night than this to prove how sinful we can REALLY be!! [The fans pop again, as Tim grabs his throat in pain from all the yelling. Jeff chuckles a little, as Tim continues.] Tim: I'm your host, Tim Miller... Jeff: And I... [HUGE pop for Jeff, as always.] Jeff: And I am the man you all came to see... The only man who can pry your mother off of those nickel-a-buy slot machines... Jeff "I like the sin of greed, but my favorite sin is lust, so please take off your shirt, and let me see that bust - For when Easter is approaching, I must forget about the Lent, and indulge in pure gluttony, when you make me pitch a tent!!" ... [The crowd starts cheering, along with plenty of laughter.] Jeff: ...Robinson!! [Jeff bows to the crowd, as they give him a standing ovation. Tim chuckles to himself a little, but quickly gains composure to finish the show-opener.] Tim: Well, everybody knows what we have planned tonight. I mean, look around... [The cameras pan around the arena. Ladders line the guardrails, tables peek out from under the ring, extra chairs surround ringside. The most ominous site, though, is the spot for the Hardcore Title match. An extension is built onto the entrance ramp, with a cage over it. Weapons line the bottom of the ramp, but that's for later.] Tim: ...yes, this is sure to be a memorable night indeed. So, let's get right to the action. I believe Tony Bradshaw is backstage with one of the Hardcore Division's finest wrestlers. Tony? [They cut to backstage, where Tony Bradshaw is standing beside Renegade to interview him for his upcoming Hardcore Title match. At Renegade's feet, there is a dufflebag. Renegade looks dead into the camera as Bradshaw begins.] Tony Bradshaw: Well, tonight Renegade, you get your shot to regain the Hardcore Title, and you get your hands on three guys, that you must really hate... [Renegade pauses and unzips his dufflebag. He takes out a shirt and hat that say Original Pranksta on them. Renegade slips both on. He reaches deeper in the bag and pulls out a replica of the HWF hardcore title.] Renegade: This ain't no interview with Renegade! What you smokin Tony? I am the Original ass master! Come on, get it right. See, tonight my goal is to win the match and keep my hardcore title. The thing is, that I have the hardcore title now, but everyone thinks I terribly SUCK ASS! I hope to prove them wrong tonight, when I win this match and walk away the champ! Whoo! Like that? Who in the hell has ever said whoo before? That's some original shit! Wanna take notes Tony? Nevermind. You don't need to take notes because anyone who takes notes on my unoriginal self is pretty much a retard! Anyways, here is my promise to you! I can guarentee that I will walk out of this arena just as much as I can guarentee you that I didn't rip off my name from an Offspring song! Tony Bradshaw: Umm, Renegade...Oh, I mean Brady, how are you going about this match? [Renegade reaches down in the dufflebag and pulls out a Venom mask. He takes off the JD Brady gear and slips the Venom mask over his face. He starts breathing really heavy as he speaks.] Renegade: Didn't you know you were interviewing Mayhem here Tony? Get with the program! See, I am a bit woozy tonight, I just took a short little pit stop at the Ungentleman's club. My plan for tonight is to take my rookie ass down to that ring and throw up all over my opponents. Trust me, I drank plenty back there, man. Anyways, when I throw up, it will probably come back to hit me right in the fuckin eye because I wear this incredibly ridiculous and idiotic mask! Who in the hell knows why I wear this thing? What in the fuck am I? A Marvel Comics character? Damn, I am just about as original as JD Brady himself! Tony Bradshaw: Well, who are you aiming to take out as your first priority tonight Mayhem? [Renegade drops the mask on the floor and reaches back into the dufflebag. He pulls out two sock puppets labeled #1 and #2. He also pulls out a tooth pick and holds it with the hand with the sock puppet #1 on it. The camera zooms in on Renegade as he makes squeaky voices for his two new friends.] Puppet#1: Damn Tony, you better not call me Mayhem again or I will rip off your balls and shove them up your ass! Get it right, it's Rage! Puppet#2: No, I'm Rage you pigfucker! Puppet#1: We'll see about that later, after I win that Hardcore Title! This is going to be a night that goes down in history when I am the Hardcore Champion once again! I will get back what I oh so rightfully deserve! I can't wait to wear that title! Puppet#2: HEY! I am going to be wearing that title! It's going to be me who wins the title tonight and me who has his hand raised in victory! I am better than you! Puppet#1: Oh really fool? [Renegade, as puppet#1 takes the toothpick and jams it into the face of puppet#2 as Renegade takes the sock off his hand and throws it to the floor. Then the camera zooms back up to the first sock puppet.] Puppet#1: Ha ha ha! Now it will be me who wins and beats up everyone else! All I do is make death threats! Wahoooo! I am one psycho dildo slapper! [Renegade tosses the other sock to the ground as well, and returns to being himself.] Renegade:Well, it looks like I will only have to worry about facing one of the Rage's tonight, since the other one has so accidentally been taken out of the game. The fact of the matter is that my opponents are some unoriginal wimp, a mask wearing pansy, and a sweaty sock, which should be no problem when I regain my hardcore title TONIGHT AT SEVEN! [Renegade storms off, as the cameras cut to the parking ramp.] Tim: Who's this now? [Just then, a black jeep pulls up. The fans inside the arena cheer in anticipation of who's coming out. The jeep stops, and an HWF assistant runs out to open the door for whoever's in the jeep. As he does, Jonathan Storm hops out. He smirks at the camera a little, as the fans boo him from the inside. Storm walks off screen, as the camera go back to inside the arena.] Jeff: Damn that Jon Storm... I can't wait until Lance gets his hands on him. [Suddenly, the introduction beat to Dope's "Debonaire" hits the PA system.] Tim: Speak of the devil... [Right as the music kicks in, multi-colores spotlights start to flash all around the area, this alone getting a pretty big cheer from the crowd. The camera starts to pan around the arena, finally focusing in on a section of the crowd where Lance Sterling is making his way down towards the ring. He isn't yet in his ring attire, instead in jeans, T-shirt and black leather jacket. The look on his face gives it all away: He means business.] Tim: And here comes Lance Sterling! Jeff: THE MAN HAS ARRIVED! [Sterling jumps the guardrail around right when the song hits the second set of verses. He parades halfway around the ring before jumping up onto the ring apron. He turns around and raises one fist in the air, giving the "power to the people" sign, before he climbs in the ring. The lightning slowly returns to normal as Sterling grabs the microphone from the ring announcer.] Sterling: Cut the music! Las Vegas, let's take a little trip down memory lane, shall we? Roll the goddamn footage. [The "Extream Screen" flickers on and without further ado shows a replay of Holiday Hangover 3. Sterling silently tells Storm to "Do what you have to do" and turns around. Storms stands still for a second, then spins Sterling around and locks him in a combination belly to belly suplex and reverse ace crusher. Storm quickly lifts Sterling up and tilts to one side, dropping to his knees and knocking the wind out of Sterling!] Sterling: Right here, you see that no-good scumbag Jonathan Storm doing what I WARNED him not to do: Screw me over. I gave him an ultimatum, and what does he do? He turns around and does..does.. THAT. And to add insult to injury, ONETWOTHREE, I get screwed out of the HWF title in the blink of an eye. And why? All because some punk tried to upstage me. [Sterling is now shown challenging Storm to an impromptu match immediatly following the screwjob HWF title loss. Clips are now shown of various parts of that match, including Storm's super facecrusher, Sterling's "Box Office Smash", Storm nailing "Pop Perfection" and Sterling kicking out of it, and finally the "Screwjob Heard Round The World". Focus in on Storm's legs on the ropes for leverage AND him grabbing a handful of Sterling's tights.] Sterling: And THAT, was the biggest injustice in HWF history. The referee must have been as blind as a fucking bat NOT to see that. But, he didnt, and nothing can change it. Of course I'm not bitter... after all I have Jonathan Storm to thank for everything that has happened since Holiday Hangover 3. And he'll have me to thank for putting him out of his misery right here tonight. Storm, you hear that, Storm? Come tonight, the whole world's going to see you exposed for the cheap, swindling bastard that you are. They won't see a man on top of his game. They won't see "Pop Perfection" Storm, all anyone is going to see of you is a bloody mess that bears SOME resemblance to what you used to look like. They'll see you fighting for your very life, and finally they will see me finish you off for good. The only "bittersweet" thing that will happen tonight will be YOU tasting the bittersweet taste of final.. inevitable.. defeat. [He pauses, then continues.]
Sterling: You know, if pride goes before the fall... then Jonathan, you have a long, long way down. [Debonaire begins to play again over the speakers. Sterling stands perfectly still for a second, before doing the patented "I am the greatest!" pose, although no words escape his mouth like they used to. Instead, he climbs through the ropes and slowly starts to walk up the ramp, stopping every so often to look around at the fans, who wildly cheer and root for him. Chants of "Sterling! Sterling!" echo throughout the building, and Sterling stands on the entry ramp, looking down towards the ring. His gaze shifts for just a second to the floor beneath and to the right of where he is, then he turns around and vanishes behind the curtains.] Tim: Is he ready, or what?!? Jeff: You're damn right he is! Lance Sterling, the MAN, is here and he's ready to kill Jonathan Storm! Right here tonight! Tim: Settle down, Jeff. Don't forget, the match is a PYRAMID match. Sterling has to fight Storm AND Rykopathe. Jeff: Who? Tim: Cut the crap, Jeff. Jeff: Hehehe.... Tim: What a moron... [The packed to capacity crowd cheers as "Living in Chaos" by Offspring sounds throughout the arena. The music continued to play, and with the establishment of a constant beat from the curtains emerges Chris Styles. Styles stops at the top of the ramp, a mic in his right hand. Looking around the crowd, slowly but intently Styles soaks up the whole atmosphere ala The Rock. Styles slowly lifts the mic to his mouth] Tim: Here is the challenger for the Canadian Title! Jeff: FALLING FROM GRACE! FALLING FROM GRACE! What a way to open up a pay per view! Tim: Tell me about it! It’s gonna be hard... Jeff: TO THE FUCKING CORE BABY! Styles: Well, here it is, the biggest pay per view in modern memory here in the HWF. That's right, it's Seven! And of course, we find ourselves in Sin City itself, Las Vegas. [Cheap pop at city mention] Styles: *pointing at scaffold* Now, before I climb my way up into that death trap down there I am going to make a few things clear. [The crowd quiets in anticipation] Styles: This day has been a long time coming, one that was brought upon through a long and painful road through the HWF. Today, my chance to regain MY Canadian Champion finally arrives. It has been two long months since I lost the title at Holy Night, a night I remember oh too well. But, this time.this time will not be the same. I will not remember Seven as another loss in a big match, it will not be a chance I squander. Corman, you can preach to your three or four fans who actually watch your promos about how you aren't, going to lose the title in your first defense, and how you are, "going to defend this title as long as [you] have one breath in your body." Fine! If killing you, or bringing you to the brink of death is what it will take.so be it. I don't believe you know exactly what you are messing with here. [Styles pauses, grabbing the back of his neck with his left hand and taking a deep breath] Styles: I am not like any other opponent Corman. Yeah, I am not the most hardcore guy here, but like I have said before, neither are you. Yeah, I am not the strongest guy here either, but once again you aren't either. But I have something not your everyday wrestler has. And that would be.intensity. Yes, I know you think this is all a bunch of bullshit Corman, but your ignorance will only aid in your demise. By intensity I mean the ability to, with every opponent feel the same drive, the same determination that I would against a man I truly hate. I don't need hate to reach this level of intensity, it is there night in and night out, match after match. Look at ANY great athlete in ANY sport. They all possess this trait. The ability to give it all at all times, but hey, you will learn what I mean soon enough. [There is a mixed reaction from the crowd, not exactly knowing what they are supposed to feel like] Styles: Corman, you have not given ONE reason to believe you have what it takes to beat myself, to defend the prestigious Canadian Title. Yeah, you got hardcore tips from Mayhem, but what good is, "don't fall," going to do you? Maybe his tips would help if he could be the one wrestling for you, but anything he tells you is useless if you do not have the ability to follow through. You could have the king of hardcore, whoever it happens to be, give you tips but it doesn't help any. All they can do is give you ideas. Ideas don't hurt Corman, it is the act that hurts.think you can turn those ideas you have been presented with and turn them into actual occurances? Well, I am not going to go around here saying you can't but.I will go as far as saying I doubt it. Ahh.whatever, lets get this fucker underway. I want my title back. [Styles slowly makes his way down the ramp towards the scaffold, tossing the mic onto the HWF announcing table on his way by. Styles pauses, giving the crowd one final "both hands high up in the air" pose before turning around and climbing up to the scaffold, taking a seat on the scaffold while he waits for the current Canadian Champion to make his way from the back] [Starseed by OLP begins quietly through the arena, building up as the fans rise to their feet. As the opening guitar line comes to an end, the voice of Kyle Corman screams out "YEAH YEAH YEAH HE!" As the bass kicks in a wall of red and white fireworks shoot up from the ground to the left and right of the entrance. The Extream Screen shows random shots of Corman hitting Total Annihilation on a few wrestlers and the words Canadian Hero pop up. Then The Canadian Kid steps out between the sea of fireworks in a pair of dark red cargo pants with white slashes down each leg, and a CK t-shirt. He also has a white reebok hat on over his wet hair. He steps past the sea of red and white and raises his hand and smiles to the cheering crowd. He takes a look to the ring, and makes a dash and climbs up the scaffold, giving his title to the ref, who places it above the scaffold and the ladder.] Tim: The size of the scaffold is different tonight, as there is a ladder. The scaffold has been enlarged to encompass the size of the ladder. Jeff: Basically, ladies and gentlemen, this means that there will be more room to destroy and tear apart your opponent, while trying to throw them off the side of the scaffold! Tim: Idiot... Jeff: The scaffold is made of thick steel, so there will be blood! There is a steel railing surrounding the scaffold, just like ring ropes surround a ring. And the ladder is bolted down, so we wont see any ladder flying action here tonight. Thank you. Tim: Baka...
 Kyle Cormanc vs. Chris Styles [Kyle Corman and Chris Styles lock up, and Corman immediately puts Styles into a headlock. Styles tries to push Corman off, but Corman keeps squeezing. Styles is flipped over, and thrown onto the floor, still in the headlock position. Corman lifts Styles up again, and walks over to the bolted ladder. He lifts Styles’ head, and tries to smash it into the ladder, but Styles blocks and throws Corman’s face into the ladder instead. Corman backs away, and Styles backs away too. They both end up on opposite ends of the scaffold. Corman holds his face, while Styles rubs his neck.] Tim: This is just beginning. I see bad things for both of these men’s futures. Jeff: I see fire, electricity... maybe drowning! LET’S SEE IT NOW! [Styles and Corman stand across the scaffold from each other, staring deeply into each other's eyes. The crowd becomes more and more restless as this stare down continues. Suddenly, both mean explode from the stare down and charge each other meeting in the middle of the scaffold and exchanging hard rights and lefts. Eventually Corman gains the advantage, forcing Styles back to where he had previously stood. Styles is getting close to the railing of the scaffold as Corman continues to lay the punches to him. But, Styles drops down, hitting Corman with a drop toe-hold, sending his face straight into the scaffold railing. Styles gets to his feet as Corman lay on the ground holding his face. Styles quickly grabs Corman, pulling him away from the rail and placing him in a devastating looking STF. Corman screams in pain as Styles applies more pressure. After nearly thirty seconds in the hold Corman finally manages to escape the hold but is in obvious pain as he lay on the ground, Styles standing over him. Styles seems to be trash talking the downed Corman when Corman suddenly swiftly lift his leg, connecting with Styles' groin and sending him to the ground as well.] Jeff: Make use of the LADDER! And the electric net! Tim: You want this to end already? Jeff: Well... if it means a barbeque, then why not? Tim: Ugh... [Corman is the first man up, and takes advantage. Both men are near the railing. Corman continuously kicks Styles to stay down. As he lifts Styles up, he puts his head between his legs, ready for a piledriver! He lifts Styles half way, when Styles lifts Corman and tosses him behind him! Corman falls behind the railing, almost falling into the electrified net below. Luckily, he held onto the railing, and pulls himself back up.] Jeff: WHY STYLES? WHY? Tim: Why are you so sadistic? That was almost the end of young Corman’s life! Jeff: And it would have been the beginning of my happiness on this illustrious night. *sniff* Tim: Poor shithead... [Canadian Kid quickly clotheslines Styles after he makes his way up. He lifts up Styles into a suplex position, but Styles once again reverses it! He runs towards the railing trying to drop CK over, but as he gets closer to the railing, Corman launches off the metal railing with his feet, and reverses the running suplex with a flying tornado DDT!] Tim: STYLES’ HEAD JUST RAMMED INTO THAT STEEL SCAFFOLD! Jeff: CORMAN IS SADISTIC! Tim: Oh... the hypocrisy... [Corman slowly gets up again, and lifts Styles with him. Styles is now busted open just below his hairline, and his nose is bleeding. Corman grabs Styles’ arm, and does a 360-degree turn, lobbing Styles into the bolted down ladder! Styles lands on the ladder with his back, and immediately falls face first into the scaffold again. He brings his arm and head up, screaming in a bloody puddle, holding his bruised back.] Tim: This is brutal. And bloody. Ladies and gentlemen, if you weren’t previously informed – this match is rated NC-17! Jeff: If only it was rated XXX... *sigh* Tim: Do your job! [Corman walks over to Styles’ bruised body. He grabs Styles’ legs, and applies a Boston Crab on Styles. Styles yells in pain, but all that can be heard is the gargle of blood as it flows from his mouth. He lifts himself up, and with his hands moves himself over to the corner of the scaffold. Corman still has the Crab applied, but cannot hold Styles into place. Styles grabs on to the railing in the corner of the ring, and begins to climb the chain that is holding the scaffold up from that corner while still in the Boston Crab!] Tim: LOOK AT THE AGILITY! Jeff: So it’s true! Styles really is....... SPIDERMAN! Tim: Oh, fuck me...! [Corman lets go, and his eyes open wide at the sight of Styles hanging from the chain. Styles takes the initiative and throws himself off the railing onto Corman. Corman falls back and his head BOUNCES off the scaffold! He follows up by bouncing again, and rolling around the scaffold floor holding the back of his head. Styles just lays on the floor on his back. A cough is heard, and then a gargle. Styles begins to choke on his own blood, and quickly turns around and spits it out, coughing. Both men are lying on the floor, almost unconscious.] [“H-W-F! H-W-F! H-W-F!” The crowd begins to REALLY get into the match, as both men are nearly killing themselves on that scaffold.] Tim: This is suicide! Both men could die in this match! Jeff: That was the sweetest bounce I’ve ever seen in my life! [Corman has made his way under the ladder, and is still holding the back of his head and squirming. Styles slowly gets up, and when he does he begins to walk to Corman. He is limping pretty bad, and falls a couple of times on his way to the ladder. When he gets to the ladder, he looks down at Corman, and smiles. His teeth are soaked with blood, and he spits a pint of blood onto the scaffold before he lifts Corman’s legs.] Tim: What is Styles doing? Why is he smiling? Jeff: This is going to be good!! [Styles hooks Corman’s legs... and falls back. Corman’s face is immediately slingshot into the ladder’s stiff safety latch. A yell is heard throughout the arena, and blood goes flying into the air. Corman’s head falls back down onto the scaffold AGAIN, and he’s coughing more than Styles was. There is a line crossing his neck, and a bloody line crossing just above his eyes. Both from the safety latch. And he looks unconscious.] Tim: OH..... MY...... Jeff: GAVIN!! [After a few seconds, both men begin to move. By moving, Corman just opens and shuts his eyelids while trying to find something to hold on to. Styles gets up and leans against the ladder to rest, and begins to climb it slowly, his legs still shaking from the Boston Crab. Corman barely sees this, and pulls himself up using the safety latch. His eyes are almost completely covered with blood from the slash above them. Styles almost falls off his side of the ladder as his legs are giving up on him. Corman begins to climb, but falls the first time due to the fact that he couldn’t see one of the rungs. He continued though.] Tim: The heart on these two men! For the Canadian Title! What a show of heart! Jeff: Yeah, any more of this and they’ll need pacemakers! [Canadian Kid and Styles are both around the same rung on the ladder, and are facing each other. Styles punches Corman in the face, he swings back, but comes back with a right of his own. As the two exchange punches on the ladder, the scaffold begins to swing back and forth. The chains make loud screeching noises as they grind against the steel hooks that hold up the scaffold. On the ladder, Styles takes another swing at Corman, but misses. Corman ducks, holds on to the top of the ladder, and swings his legs into one of the holes above a rung, and kicks Styles’ legs through the hole. Styles’ legs give up on him, and his face falls into a ladder rung as he falls to the floor back into his own blood. He yells as he holds his legs with one hand, and face with the other. Corman also falls after the attack, and moves over to the rail for support.] Tim: Styles could have been crippled right there! Jeff: Corman could have been blinded earlier! Tim: Well... Styles could have died after hitting his head on the ladder. Jeff: But Corman could have died if he didn’t save himself with the rail. Tim: Well... well... FUCK YOU! Jeff: I am the self-proclaimed god of annoyance! Tim: You could say that again! Jeff: I am the self-proclaimed god of annoyance! Tim: ARGH!!! [Corman goes back to climb the ladder, and Styles slowly tries to get to his feet. When Corman gets to the top of the ladder, he reaches for the Canadian Title. He ticks it with his middle finger, and tries to drop it. Styles finally sees this, and dropkicks the ladder. Corman doesn’t fall, but has to hold on to the ladder for support as the scaffold begins to rock again. Styles holds his shoulder after the fall to the ground from that dropkick, and seeing that Corman hasn’t fallen yet, he goes for another dropkick. He hurts his shoulder again, but the scaffold shakes more this time. The sound of the chains and hooks is louder. But Corman holds on. As Styles gets up again, holding his shoulder, he tries to go for another dropkick, but instead is found at the receiving end of missile dropkick! Styles rolls to the end of the scaffold, hitting the rail hard. This makes the scaffold rock violently. Corman is swung to the side that Styles landed. And as the scaffold moves the other way, they also roll to that side.] Tim: What the hell?! This scaffold is getting dangerous! Jeff: IT’S GONNA CRUSH US ALL! Tim: DON’T YELL! Jeff: Ouch! [Styles picks Corman up from on top of him, and pitches him into the ladder. Corman flips forward, and his back hits the ladder. The scaffold is wildly shaking back and forth now! Corman holds his back as he is tossed by the moving scaffold to the other side again. Styles is also tossed there as well. They begin to brawl while Corman keeps one hand on his hurting back. Corman tries to clothesline Styles over the railing.] Tim: THIS COULD BE IT! Jeff: You mean... I’ll get to see a barbecue after all? Tim: Don’t get emotional. [Corman has Styles halfway over the railing. Corman is straining to get Styles over but he won't budge. Styles manages to throw a back elbow right into Corman's face, sending him stumbling from the railing. Corman takes a angry swing at Styles but he ducks it and lifts Corman into a HUGE Michinoku Driver sending Corman head and Styles' rear hard onto the scaffold causing one of the chains holding it up to snap!] Tim: OH GOD! WHAT THE HELL!? Jeff: GOOD GAVIN! CLIMB SPIDERMAN! CLIMB! [Styles manages to grab hold of a railing, but Corman, dazed by the Michinoku Driver rolls towards the edge and off. But, he has grabbed hold of the scaffold edge. Corman hangs dangerously by one hand over the electrified net and pool. Styles looks on in amazement as Corman slowly pulls half his body back onto the extremely slanted scaffold. Using the rail as their guide, they pull themselves to the other side of the scaffold in order to get away from falling off the broken side. One hand on the railing each, their other hands are punching away at each other.] Tim: This could get dangerous! If one man lets go, they could fall all the way to the other side, and over the edge of the dangling scaffold! Jeff: TENSE!! TENSE!! [Corman punches Styles hard in his already broken nose. He almost lets go of the rail, but is now hanging by one hand, and the rest of his body is lying, waiting to be tossed of the other side. Corman takes a HUGE chance, jumps on to the railing, and quickly jumps backwards into a moonsault. It lands on Styles, and both of them go flying into... THE LADDER!] Tim: THE LADDER JUST SAVED BOTH THEIR LIVES! Jeff: But now they’ve got bruises the size of my... Tim: Don’t go there! [Corman’s forehead has swollen to a dark pink color. His eyes, barely able to open. Styles’ nose is visibly broken, and his teeth are stained a dark red. Styles is holding off the bottom rungs on the slanted side of the ladder, Corman is on the high side. Corman takes the chance for an advantage. He grabs Styles’ legs, and intertwines his with them. He plants a figure-four leg lock onto Chris Styles, who is now crying in pain!] Tim: Kyle Corman has just put Chris Styles into a figure four, while holding on to the ladder for support! This must be killing Styles’ already injured back and legs. Jeff: I don’t like submissions. Where’s the chairs? [Styles lets go of the ladder to release the hold. Seeing this, Corman lets go of the figure four. Styles goes flying to the edge of the scaffold, where the chain broke. And... he falls off!] Tim: HOLY SHIT! WHAT THE FUCK!! Jeff: STOP THE PRESS! LET ME SEE! [No noises are heard as Corman waits for his music to hit. But there is no music. Corman slides himself down to the edge, and looks down. As he looks, he’s met with an uppercut! Chris Styles is hanging from the chain that broke! He’s swinging back and forth on the chain! Corman spits a puddle of blood from his now-bleeding mouth. Styles swings forward again, and grabs on to the rail on the scaffold to bring himself back in the ring. Both men use the rail again to guide them to the ladder where the Canadian Title is being hung above. Corman reaches for the ladder, and makes it to the leaning side, climbing to the top. While Styles makes it to the high end and begins to climb.] Tim: Can Corman reach it from there? Jeff: He better if he wants to stay Canadian Champion! [The two competitors make it to the top of the ladder, and being to exchange lefts and rights again. Corman has a harder time, as he could fall if one of those punches didn’t land properly. Corman lands a punch in Styles’ jaw, and Styles moves back. He breathes through his teeth and squirts blood on Corman’s swollen face. Corman wipes the blood off, and grabs Styles’ head, and punches him again. The ladder begin to teeter.] Tim: Why is the ladder teetering? Jeff: THE BOLTS HAVE BEEN BROKEN ON ONE SIDE! THERE’S TOO MUCH PRESSURE! [Styles, in a last minute desperation procedure, jumps to the top of the ladder and with an amazing skill of balance, jumps from there to grab the Canadian Title! But he can’t get it off the hook! It’s closed tight over it! Corman sees this, and grabs Styles’ legs. Using that leverage, he also gets to the top of the ladder. Styles is hanging from the Canadian Title, it’s strapped tight! Corman once again applies a figure four on the hanging Styles, and flips upside down, holding on to the ladder, and applying pressue!] Tim: CORMAN HAS APPLIED THE FIGURE FOUR IN THE AIR! Jeff: Technically, he’s holding on the ladder, and Styles has hold of the title. So it’s not... Tim: IT’S A VERTICAL FIGURE FOUR! [Styles is yelling once more, and shaking to try and get the Canadian Title loose. Meanwhile, Corman is turning red as the blood is rushing to his head. Styles lets go of the title, and both men fall to the ground again. Corman, a little light-headed, begins to climb the high end of the ladder. Styles climbs the other side, but only by his arms. His legs don’t seem to be helping much.] Tim: Again? This is a war, Jeff! A war! Jeff: What else are these guys going to pull off? [When they both get to the top of the ladder, Corman punches down on Styles. Styles uses his arms to hold on to the ladder, as he forces his legs up the rungs, and ends up upside down placing his legs on Corman’s shoulders. He locks his legs around Corman’s neck, and flips right-side up!] [“HO-LY FUCK! HO-LY FUCK! HO-LY FUCK!”] Tim: THIS IS HARD TO THE... Jeff: FUCKING CORE! [Corman flies down the edge of the scaffold, and falls into the net below. A yell is heard along with a large buzzing sound, as ”Living In Chaos” by Offspring is played over the speakers. Styles holds on desperately to the ladder, but CLINK. The last bolts comes out as he tries to climb for the title. Styles flies down to the edge, but hits the rail HARD.] Tim: THIS IS CRAZY! IT’S SUICIDE! AND CHRIS STYLES IS ONCE AGAIN THE CANADIAN CHAMPION! Jeff: BARBECUE!!!! [EMTs rush out from the back, as the ladder flies from it’s bolted position onto Styles in the corner.] Jeff: Styles saved the ladder from going over! Tim: Yeah, and what’s his grand prize? Internal bleeding! [The electricity is shut off, and the scaffold is lowered.] Tim: Folks we’ll be back after commercials! This mess has to be cleaned up! Jeff: I’m going to enjoy this pay per view... [The camera suddenly cuts to the back while Jeff begins a rant against the interruption. The camera pans to Blackjack's dressing room door where there's a large "X" spray painted on the door in blood red, with a post-it note underneath stating...]
By Kyle Solomon" Tim: LET THE MIND GAMES BEGIN! [Backstage Tony Bradshaw is running around like crazy as pay-per-views are always the busy time of the season for him. Tony is outside a locker room. The door swings open as JD Brady appears! JD is wearing a pair of black shades, his "Original Prankster" t-shirt, among other accessories with of course what is up for grabs tonight, the King Of Violence Medal and the Hardcore Title. JD smiles as he walks out, takes his sunglasses off, and looks at Tony.] JD Brady: TONY! What's up man? Tony Bradshaw: Oh you know...same old same old. But I'm really here to ask you a few questions Brady. JD Brady: Shoot man, anytime. Tony Bradshaw: Last words, Renegade, Mayhem, Rage. JD Brady: Well there aren't many more insults that I can come up with this week. I've called those three guys every name in the book all week long, hell, even Beavis and Butthead were making fun of Mayhem and you know it sucks whenever cartoons are making fun of you. I just don't think these three wrestlers quiet understand MY potential compared to theirs. If you look at these men, they have nothing up on me. I have everything on my side in this match. Tony Bradshaw: How so? JD Brady: Take Mayhem. Very good wrestler, accomplished as a former Canadian Champion. But there is a big line between the Hardcore King Of Violence Title which he will be trying to win tonight compared to the Canadian Title. While the Canadian Title is more of in my mind, a "soft-core" division, the Hardcore Division is exactly that, exactly the opposite. As Renegade said almost one hundred times in his promo this week because we was running out of material fast, we are four hungry dogs. All trying to survive while lock inside of a cage with more weapons that the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles would know what to do with. But Mayhem, you are NOT an accomplished Hardcore wrestler. Of course you go back to the streets, pay some people to act as if they are afraid of you, and act all big and bad. That's one thing I've never understood, how come in promos EVERYBODY is afraid of you, while wrestling not a damn person is scared. Tony Bradshaw: I don't know. That one has come up a few times in my head and I've never figured it out. JD Brady: Oh well, Mayhem just needs to understand that the Hardcore division is MY division. I'm a two time Hardcore King Of Violence Champion, I'm the experienced one here, no matter how many people you pay to say you are better than me. Tony Bradshaw: What about Renegade? You and him have had a few battles in the past, what about Renegade? JD Brady: That's really a good question. What about Renegade? The guy has been here for what seems to be an eternity and only has a week long title reign to show for it, is still hard at work. I have to give that to him though, no matter how many times he loses, he just keeps coming back for more and more and more and more. Honestly I'm annoyed by him but I'm supposed to give everybody a fair shot at the title, even Renegade. But I'm saying Renegade has been here somewhere around 10 months, and in the 10 months he has accomplished absolutely nothing that is noteworthy. Once he leaves the HWF no one here will remember him. Not the fans, not the wrestlers, not the staff, he's really just one big joke to make another man look good. Tony Bradshaw: And your finally opponent, Rage? JD Brady: Rage. There are some many things you can say when talking about the guy. You gotta feel for him, you really do. He's been an outcast his entire life, he comes into the HWF trying to get some respect, and still he is the outcast. It's gotta feel bad when there isn't a single soul on earth that likes you the slightest bit, but Rage, you don't care about that, right? Your the definition of toughness. Your a wall, a machine, a cyborg, your not human, your heart beats only because it is born to do so but nothing good is pumped out from your heart. Deep, deep down you know you aren't that good. You KNOW you aren't. You beating me the first time was a fluke, but the past two weeks I've shown the world why I deserve to be the Hardcore King Of Violence Champion. First I beat you to earn my title back, then I beat you Rage, you Mayhem, and you Renegade, my adversaries tonight, and I will have no trouble beating you again. Tony Bradshaw: There has been a lot of backstage talk about our President, Jonathan Drake, being one of the special enforcers for the match. Do you think President Drake will serve any more of a purpose than an enforcer in this match? JD Brady: Drake has always been fair towards me. He brought me into the HWF and I trust him. But of course, I always have to keep an eye out for him, just as I would an opponent. He might have some other intentions than just being the enforcer in this match or maybe he just wanted to bring some more of his fans in. Whatever the case may be, Drake I feel is a man I can trust. I'm just going to go into that cage, do my thing, and hopefully he will do his, nothing more. Tony Bradshaw: All right, now what about just the match itself? JD Brady: What about it? It's a great match put taking place o the entrance way with a cage around the area, noose hanging above from the cage, collapasable side of the cage which falls into a burning pit of hell, a pre-dug hole where one of my opponents will be brought to their untimely death, weapons scattered about. It's a Hardcore Champions dream really, I'm looking forward to throwing somebody into a fire, hanging somebody, and then putting the other ones lifeless body in a hole, piling dirt onto him as the bell echoes throughout the arena as I walk away as what I came, The Hardcore King Of Violence Champion. Tony Bradshaw: Well I'm done here. Is there anything else you would like to add JD? JD Brady: I'm not going to lose. Too much pride in this match, I need to show the world that I'm not just a guy who has small little title reigns, I'm officially the Hardcore King Of Violence Champion and when the bell sounds, I'll officially STILL be the Hardcore King Of Violence Champion. [With that JD storms off. Suddenly, the cameras cut over to the entrance way, where the ominous site for the Hardcore Title Match awaits.] Tim: Take a peek at that, Jeff... Jeff: Oh, I love it!! Tim: Looks like it's time for the Homicide Deathmatch!! [You see a special metal extension made on side of entrance way; entire thing contained within a steel cage. Inside of the cage is a special dirt pit, remninsce of a Buried Alive Match. Hanging above the cage is a noose. Next to the right side of the cage is a 15 or 20 foot drop; leading directly into a pit of flames. The right side has a sign which reads "DANGER: COLLPASABLE" written on it. Various weapons are scattered about the fighting grounds, including tables, clubs, a ladder, and of course, steel chairs. The crowd cheers loudly, as Johnny Drake, Roger Williams, Harry Sullivan, and Rich Michaels all walk out and take a seat at a table next to the cage. Johnny gives a nod to the crowd.] Tim: Well, there's the staff which will decide out next Hardcore and KoV Champion. Jeff: You know what this reminds me of? ... The Final Solution match!! Tim: Y'know, you're right. Jeff: I know I am. Tim: This match has a lot of the same aspects of the Final Solution match from Born 2 Bleed. As we all know, that was the match which nearly ended J. Simon Rykopathe's career, and also severly injured Vic Williams, Blackjack, and Michael Trey. What kind of violence will we see here tonight!?! [Just then - the sounds of wind rushing is heard through the arena, as the temperature drops down in the building..giving an eerie, chilling atmosphere. Smoke starts to flow out of the entranceway. Suddenly, you hear...]
[With that, Green Jelly's "Orange Krunch" hits the speakers. After a moment of letting the music blast, Rage walks out of the back, head facing down. He walks to the edge of the ramp, and just stands there with his head down and his hair hanging over his face, letting the music play. Suddenly, he snaps his head up and looks directly over at the cage setup on the extension, and starts walking towards it with a purpose. . . never taking his eyes off the cage. He steps past the table of officials and right into the cage without fear. Rage stands there, near the collapsable wall, as his music slowly fades out.] Nigel Rolston: Introducing first, former HWF Hardcore and King of Violence Chaaaaaaampiooooon.... This... is... RAAAAAAGE!! Tim: Rage is looking stoked tonight!! Jeff: Stoked? [The lights in the arena slowly fade as the fans come to an abrupt silence. The lights are completely out and the arena 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. Renegade then glares over at the table of officials and cautiously walks towards the cage. He steps into the cage and stands near the pit of dirt, which is adjacent to Rage.] Nigel Rolston: Introducing, also a former Hardcore Champion... REEEENEEEEEGAAAAAADE!! Jeff: Here's my pick to win this one... H'es been on a slump, but I can feel him breaking free. [The lights in the arena go out as the techno sound of Rob Zombie's "Dragula remix" hit loudly throughout the arena. Blue, Red and Purple spotlights flash on and off all around the arena almost like a dangerous lightning storm. Strange voices echo quietly in the song as the tune of the music begins to pick up. As the music builds up all lights go off leaving the ring in pitch-blackness while only blue strobe lights flash down on the ramp revealing a large man crouched down on one knee on the stage. As Rob Zombie begins to "sing" Mayhem begins to slowly rise to his feet. The blue lights making him look even more like a monster. Mayhem slowly walks over towards the cage. He stops at the door and looks around at his surroundings. Without hesitation, Mayhem steps into the cage and takes a spot opposite of Renegade, near a 15 foot ladder. As the song fades the lights do as well and Mayhem stands quietly the lights of the arena reflecting off his mask.] Nigel Rolston: Introducing next... Former HWF Canadian Champion... MAAAAAAAAYHEEEEEEEM!! Jeff: Wait... I just noticed something. Tim: What? Jeff: All three opponents in this match have like... um.. fake names. Tim: Yeah, maybe Brady should come back out as Insomnia... ["Responsibility" by MXPX hits over the arena as the fans get to their feet. Chants echo threw the entire arena, as JD Brady emerges from the back with his Hardcore Title around his waist. Brady walks directly over to the officials table, where he hands his title to Johnny Drake. Drake nods at him, and then centers the title in the middle of the table. Brady takes one last look into the cage, and then slowly enters the cage. Harry Sullivan quickly gets up to shut the door.] Nigel Rolston: And now, two-time and current HWF Hardcore and King of Violence Chaaaampiooon.... J... D... BRAAAAAADYYYY!! Tim: Whew, it's about to begin Jeff!! Jeff: *drools*
 JD Bradyc vs. Rage vs. Renegade vs. Mayhem [The bell sounds. All four men stay in their respective spots inside of the cage. Not one of the men makes a move. Suddenly, however, Brady dashes across the cage towards Rage. Brady attempts a flying dropkick, but Brady moves. Brady collides with the collapseable wall, and the entire thing shakes. Rage quickly drops on elbow on the metal floor, as Renegade takes off after Mayhem. Mayhem ducks a Renegade clothesline, and DDT's him hard on the ramp, as well. Mayhem quickly grabs a chair from off the ground and levels the rising Renegade. At the same time, Rage picks up Brady and starts raking his face on the side of the cage.] Tim: This one is getting violent early... Jeff: ...just like we knew it would!! [Rage yanks Brady from the cage and locks on a front chancery. He grabs Brady's far arm and pulls it into a rear chancery. Flowing through, Rage drops Brady into his own knee with an inverted DDT. The crowd gasps at the weird angle Brady's back bends, as Mayhem begins piling up the few steel chairs that were left in the cage. Mayhem lifts up Renegade and locks him in a suplex. He backs up to the chairs, lifts him up, and drives him down HARD on the pile of chairs with a STIFF brainbuster. The crowd gasps again. The officials talk the match over wiht each other, as Rage quickly goes to work on Mayhem now. Rage shoves Mayhem into the left side of the cage, ans starts to lay in rights and lefts to Mayhem's body. Rage goes for a face-shot, but Mayhem catches him arm and pulls him into a standing lariat.] Tim: Mayhem looks AWESOME here tonight!! Jeff: He just took out two-thirds of his opponents here, and he looks like he's going after Brady next. [Just as Jeff had predicted, Mayhem goes straight for Brady. As Brady rises to his feet, he stuns Mayhem with a front jawbreaker. Mayhem stumbles back a little, as Brady picks up a nearby club. Brady takes one look behind him at the flame pit, and then runs at Mayhem. Mayhem ducks the first club shot, but gets hit with a backhand club-shot in the knees. Mayhem slumps over as Brady throws the club over at Renegade. Brady throws Mayhem into the front wall of the cage, and catches him in a tilt-a-whirl emerald fusion - right on the metal floor.] Tim: Flying Fury!! [Brady, a little stunned, crawls onto Mayhem and begins laying into him with stiff right hands. Renegade quickly gets up and starts walking over to Brady and Mayhem. Rage, however, sneaks up behind Renegade and flips him backwards onto his neck with a release tiger suplex. Rage quickly picks up Renegade and wrings out his arm. Rage whips Renegade towards the ladder, but Renegade reverses it. Rage flies into the 15 foot ladder, tipping it over into the back wall of the cage. Rage stumbles back over towards Renegade. Renegade catches him in a choke hold, and lifts him up - only to be nailed with a spinning DDT down to the metal floor.] Tim & Jeff: HOLY SHIT!! ["H-W-F, H-W-F, H-W-F, H-W-F"] Tim: Renegade is getting beaten on here tonight!! [Rage gets up and wipes some blood from his lip. He's quick to go grab the ladder, and begins setting about 10 feet from the dirt pit, over Renegade's lifeless body. Rage picks up Renegade again, and whips him into the back wall of the cage. Rage runs at Renegade, only to be bicycle kicked to the ground by JD Brady.] Jeff: OH SHIT!! Where'd he come from!?! Tim: JD Brady just Knocked Down the Walls!! Jeff: I'd say he knocked down Rage... [Rage quickly gets up, but Brady hiptosses him over onto the same pile of chairs Mayhem had set up earlier. Brady quickly picks up Rage again and kicks him in the gut a few times. Renegade slowly stumbles out from the wall and picks up Mayhem. Both men stand behind Rage. Suddenly, Rage catches Brady's foot, spins him around, and lifts him into the air for a flapjack. As he drops back, both Renegade and Mayhem jump into the air and DRIVE JD Brady down with a double diamond cutter.] Tim: OH MY GOD!! Jeff: That was the 4-D!! Double Dudley Death Drop!! [Brady clutches at his head, as Rage glares over at the officials, as they frantically discuss the preceding move. Drake looks over at Nigel and gives him the 'no' nod. Rage pounds his fist on the metal floor, and then stands up. Immediately, Renegade runs at Rage, only to be back body dropped into the left side cage wall. Renegade lands rudely on his neck, as Mayhem manhandles Brady to his feet and applies a standing head scissors. Mayhem lifts up Brady for a powerbomb and slams him down to the metal HARD. The crowd cheers, as Mayhem holds on and tries to hoist him up again. This time, however, Brady riggles free. Brady lands next to Mayhem, and applies a headlock. He runs up the back wall of the cage and drops Mayhem face-first with a twisting bulldog.] Tim: Twisting Bulldog from the Hardcore Champion!! Jeff: Brady's gonna need more than that to convince the committee to stop this one... [Brady starts stomping on Mayhem, and then grabs a club again. Brady slimbs onto Mayhem's back, and wrenches his body into a camel clutch, with the club choking him. Mayhem starts trying to free himself, as Rage begins crawling up the left side cage wall - next to the ladder. Renegade slowly gets up and starts following him up. Rage eventually gets to the top of the cage, which is about 20 feet up. He sits on the top, as Renegade crawls up after him. Rage stomps Renegade's head a good 5 or 6 times, but Renegade is persistant to get to the top. Nearly every fan in the arena is on their feet now, as the two men battle 20 feet over the metal ramp.] Tim: This is... dangerous. Jeff: To you; but for a Hardcore Legend like myself, it's nothing. Tim: Hardcore Legend!?! Jeff: You got it. [Rage tries to stomp Renegade again, but Renegade catches his foot. Rage tries to kick free, but Renegade pulls his entire body off of the cage. Rage flies dangerously 20 feet up, only to land on the ladder setup about 5 feet away. The ladder tips back and forth, but Rage steadies it using the front cage wall.] Tim: WHEW!! That was close to disaster!! [Renegade quickly scurries up to the cage and stands up. The crowd is screaming, so much so that you cannot hear Tim or Jeff. Rage slowly stands up and the two begin swinging at each other, although neither of them has the reach to actually make contact. Rage gets irrate, and begins trying to scoot the ladder towards Renegade from the top. He gets nowehere, however, and just positions himself on the other side of the ladder as Renegade. Rage starts yelling down to Brady, who still has Mayhem in a choking camel clutch, to get him a chair. Brady is just watching him like any other fan, and trying to apply pressure to his own hold. Suddenly, Rage turns back towards Renegade - only to see RENEGADE FLYING THROUGH THE AIR!!] Jeff: WATCH OUT!! [Renegade amazingly spears Rage from the top of the ladder. Both men fly down towards the dirt pile below them. Renegade lands HARD, VERY HARD, on the dirt pile as Rage's body falls directly into the pre-made pit. His body disappears.] Tim: WHAT THE SHIT!?! ["HO-LY-SHIT, HO-LY-SHIT"] Jeff: Renegade just sacrificed himself to take out Rage. Tim: And did he ever take out Rage... A Spear from the heavens!! [A huge cloud of dirt fills the air, as attention now goes to the officials table. All men seem in agreeance of taking out Rage, except Johnny Drake. Drake watches on, os the dirt slowly settles around the metal ramp. As it does, no signs of life come from either Rage or Renegade. Drake immediately looks over at Nigel and raises a single finger i nthe air. Nigel nods, as the first bell of the match sounds.] Tim: Wait, who's eliminated!?! Nigel Rolston: Ladies and Gentlemen... I've just been informed that the first man eliminated from this match is... [Dramatic pause, as the fans stir.] Nigel Rolston: ...RAGE!! Tim: Rage is out of it!! [Suddenly, EMT's rush from the back as Sullivan opens up the cage. The medics rush for the hole and carefully pull Rage out. Renegade doesn't move, but nobody helps him. The EMT's grab Rage and start bringing him to the back. As they exit the cage, Sullivan slams the door shut. The crowd cheers again, as the match is set to continue.] Tim: Well, we're down to three men in this Hardcore Title Match!! [Meanwhile, Brady still has his hold locked on Mayhem. Mayhem finally pushes himself up, still with Brady on his back. Mayhem stumbles around the ring, walking over Renegade a few times, and finally has his back towards the right (collapsable) side of the cage. With one fluid motion, Mayhem throws his body backwards into the cage wall. The wall immediately collapses and falls into the flame pit below, as Brady and Mayhem both try to gain their balance on the edge of the 15 foot drop.] Jeff: HOLY SHIT!! HOLY SHIT!! Tim: One more step and they're both gone!! [Mayhem delivers a stiff back elbow, sending Brady falling. Brady grabs onto the edge of the metal rampway, as the fans continue to scream with pleasure. Mayhem, meanwhile, slumps over and grabs a club from the ground.] Jeff: Brady's about to get burnt!! He's about to get burnt!! Tim: No wait... is he? [Mayhem turns back towards Brady and levels his right hand with the club. Brady immediately lets go with that arm, and starts swinging with only his left arm grabbing the edge. Renegade begins rising behind Mayhem, as Mayhem winds up for the second hit. Mayhem maliciously looks down at Brady, but then turns back around to Renegade and levels him right in the side of the neck with it. Renegade drops to the ground hard, as Mayhem turns back towards Brady, only to find that Brady has pulled himself up and is now resting near the dirt pile.] Tim: Whew... Brady escaped that one, but Renegade wasn't so lucky. Jeff: Yeah, neither was his jugular. [Mayhem runs over to Brady and swings the club. Brady moves, and Mayhem dents the dirt pile deep. He tries to pull the club back out, but it's stuck in there. Brady low blows the struggling Mayhem, and Mayhem drops to the ground. Brady quickly gets up and goes to setup the ladder. He begins scaling about halfway up, and then stops and waits for Mayhem to rise to his feet. A rising Renegade, however, throws a steel chair up at Brady - which smacks him right in the face. Brady rests backwards, as Mayhem rises and drops Renegade with a standing side kick.] Jeff: Oh my god!! This one is getting out of control!! Tim: You think it is now, look at Mayhem!! [Mayhem begins scaling the ladder - the same side as Brady. He quickly reaches Brady's point, and pushes him down into a front chancery.] Tim, Jeff & Crowd: OH NOOOOOO!!!! [Mayhem grabs Brady by the tights and then dives backwards. Both men fall about 7 or 8 feet, and Mayhem DRIVES down Brady's head on the metal with a Super DDT!!] Tim: KINDNESS FROM THE FUCKING LADDER!! Jeff: IT'S OVER!! ["HO-LY-SHIT, HO-LY-SHIT"] [Brady immediately grabs his head, as the officials and Drake begin discussing. After about 30 or 40 seconds, all four men give the 'no' nod. The fans gasp, as they watch the replay on the Extream Screen. Mayhem slowly rises to his feet, along with Renegade. The two men begin duking it out back and forth, both men looking out of it. Renegade gains the advantage, and chokeslams Mayhem down onto the metal. The sounds echoes throughout the arena, as the fans gasp in unison yet again.] Jeff: HUGE Chokeslam on the steel!! [Renegade lifts up Brady now, and starts laying in some right hands. Brady starts reeling back towards the pit of flames again. Brady dangles over the edge, as Renegade continues punching on Brady. Suddenly, Mayhem attacks Renegade from the back and turns him around. Mayhem goes for a clothesline but Renegade ducks. Instinctively, Brady locks Mayhem in a half nelson choke hold. Mayhem starts trying to kick out if it, but all he accomplishes it uppercutting Renegade to the ground with a right foot. As Renegade falls, Brady throws Mayhem over his head and flips him over into the flame pit 15 feet below. The fans scream as Mayhem disappears into the flames.] Tim: OH MY GOD!! ["H-W-F, H-W-F, H-W-F, H-W-F"] Jeff: Bradyplexx into the Flames!! [The officials immediately signal a three over to Nigel, who nods. Another bell sounds.] Nigel Rolston: Ladies and Gentlemen... I've just been informed that the next man eliminated from this match is... MAYHEM!!! [Suddenly, a ton of technicians run from underneath the entrance way and begi nto put out the flames with fire extinguishers. The fans watch on, as Brady stands up in the cage.] Tim: It's now come down to this, Renegade versus JD Brady!! Jeff: Let's get it on!! [Renegade quickly rises and spears Brady to the ground. He lifts him right up and applies a standing head scissors. Renegade lifts up Brady for a powerbomb, but Brady slips out. Brady goes for a clothesline, but Renegade ducks. Renegade kicks Brady in the gut, and goes for a suplex. Brady floats over, turns Renegade around, and picks him up in a bearhug. He grabs him in a suspended front chancery and BAM!! Brady drops Renegade with a cradle DDT.] Jeff: PRANKED YA!! PRANKED YA!! PRANKED YA!! Tim: JESUS... SETTLE DOWN JEFF!! [Brady quickly gets up, with his second wind. The technicians finally pull Mayhem out of the flames, as Brady grabs the ladder and sets it up underneath the noose. He points up towards the noose, as the fans erupt in cheers.] Tim: Brady's gonna try and hang Renegade!! Jeff: Ya think!?! [Brady picks up Renegade and begins pulling him up the ladder, from the other side. Renegade's about half-concious, so he walks up under his own power. They eventually reach the top, and Brady starts firing on Renegade with right and lefts hands to his bloody forehead. Brady, then, grabs the noose and loosens it up a lot. He throws the large hoop around Renegade's neck, and then starts to tighten it.] Jeff: He's gonna do it, Brady's gonna win!! [Just then, Renegade throws a hard headbutt right on Brady's chin. Brady reels back, but Renegade catches him. The ladder teeters dangerously, as Renegade puts the hoop around Brady's neck, while it's still around his own. Brady begins trying to kick free, but knocks over the ladder in the process.] Tim: OH SHIT!! ["SNAP"] [The rope tightens down on both Renegade and Brady's neck, as the ladder drops onto the metal. Both men swing in the breeze, as the fans start to go crazy. The image looks even more dramatic, for it's mirrored by the Extream Screen in the background.] Jeff: Both are suspended about 15 or 20 feet over the metal ramp!! ["HO-LY-SHIT, HO-LY-SHIT, HO-LY-SHIT, HO-LY-SHIT"] Tim: WHAT'S GONNA HAPPEN!?! [Both men continue to swing around in the air, as the fans continue to chant. As Brady tries to free himself, Renegade punches him right in the stomach. Suddenly, Renegade drops out of the noose and falls 20 feet down from the noose - only to SLAM down hard on the metal rampway.] Jeff: SWEET JESUS!! [Brady now hangs alone above the ring, as conciousness quickly exits his body. About 45 seconds elapse, and the fans stop cheering and chanting. The officials discuss the situation thoroughly, and eventually give Nigel the number 4 sign. The bell sounds, as everyone awaits the decision.] Tim: Wait, did Renegade just w- Nigel Rolston: Ladies and Gentlemen... I've just been informed that the last man eliminated from this match is... JD BRADY!! Making your winner, and NEW Hardcore and King of Violence Champion... REEEENEEEGAAADE!! Jeff: I TOLD YOU!! I TOLD YOU!! [Immediately, the rope holding Brady lowers him down to the metal rampway below. Drake grabs the title belt/medal as all four officials enter the cage. EMT's rush from the back for both men, as Drake drops the belt and medal on Renegade's motionless body. Just then, "Thunder Underground" erupts on the speakers again, as the fans give a standing ovation for all four men in the match.] Tim: And Renegade has regained the Hardcore, and KoV, Title!! Jeff: What a fucking match!! Tim: Jeff, watch the vulgarities... Jeff: Sorry man, couldn't help it... [Some medics help Renegade to his feet and to the back, away from the cage. Brady, however, is put in a neck brace and taken to the back on a stretcher.] Tim: Man, the way those HWF noose snaps are dangerous!! Jeff: Yeah, and Brady's feeling that now... [The flame pit quickly gets put all the way out, and the EMT's and technicians leave the ringside area. Drake and the other officials follow, leaving all the carnage left out on the rampway.] Tim: I'm being informed now that we have to cut backstage... [The camera cuts to the backstage area once again as the camera travels inside doors marked "Gavin Coens" to find Kyle Solomon spray painting an "X" in red on the floor of The Holy One's dressing room!] Jeff: Good Gavin!! He's besmirching the floor of the Almighty! If Gavin weren't eating Ambrosia right now... there'd be hell to pay! Tim: Well funny you should mention Mr. Coens Jeff... [The camera cuts to the hallway where Gavin Coens is walking haughtily towards his lockerroom with a confident kind of smirk on his face.] Jeff: No Gavin! NO! [Kyle finishes his X as he hears the footsteps. He walks to the door and leaves it only slightly ajar as he stands with his back up against the wall running next to the door. Gavin walks in, and stares at the X for a moment before he looks to his right to find Solomon, who has already taken the advantage by scooping Gavin into a fireman's carry. Solomon walks to the center of the room to the center of the X while Gavin squirms on his shoulders, nearly breaking himself free. Solomon maintains his hold on Gavin as he takes a large step to the right, away from the center of the circle, and drives Gavin down to the floor in an inverted piledriver.] Tim: GAVIN COENS IS RI- Jeff: Don't even say it... [Solomon gets up in a huff, and puts a post-it on Gavin's head saying..]
By Kyle Solomon" [...Solomon walks towards the hallway, and closes the door behind him as he yells to Gavin.] Solomon: I won't miss next time Gavin. Next time, you will hit the Mark... Right on. Tim: Solomon is hot tonight!! [Switch shots. Backstage a camera follows Michael Trey and Joshua Trey to the locker rooms. Opening the door, Michael steps inside his locker room. Joshua continues walking down the hallway. We cut back into the locker room to see Michael closing the door behind him. He walks to his locker to get prepared. As he reaches to open his lock, the lights in the room all go out leaving the place in pitch blackness. Trey turns around looks towards the door unable to see who turned off the lights.] Trey: Who’s there? [Waiting a couple seconds, he gets no answer.] Trey: I don’t know who’s playing this game... but your pissing me off... so turn on the damn lights. Voice: Michael Trey... [The voice, sounds deep, cold and metallic to Trey... also sounds like it’s almost right behind him. Michael turns, swinging a punch, but only hits air.] Voice: Nice try... [Michael notices in confusion that the voice now sounds like it’s on the other side of the room.] Voice: Of all the wrestlers in this federation you seem to embrace the sin of wrath more then anything. You seem to be a very angry young man. Please do not misunderstand me, I love sin. [Trey listens more to the voice, not recognizing it.] Trey: Who are you? [An unbearable silence fills the room. After several long seconds the voice answers.] Voice: Who I am it not important... what I’m going to do to you is. [Trey looks around the pitch blackness, trying to adjust his eyes. He is still unable to see the other person in the room with him. Crouching down, Trey waits, playing along while he thinks of a strategy.] Trey: What are you going to do to me? [Trey listens, trying to hear where the man is.] Voice: Fill in the blank... [Trey, lunging to his right, swings at where he thinks the voice is, again hitting nothing but air. Trey recovers... crouches again, waiting for his next opportunity.] Voice: Fill in the blank...Seven “blank” Sins. [Trey hears the voice far to his right. He creeps along to the floor towards it.] Trey: Seven Deadly Sins. Voice: Get the picture? [With a strong forward jump, Trey swings a hard punch. Hitting something, he hears a loud crack: his hand against a concrete wall. Rearing back his fist, Trey roars in pain. Turning around he looks, his eyes finally adjusted to the darkness. Blinking his eyes, he sees a large figure inches in front of him. Outside in the hall and the adjacent halls a loud scream of pain can be easily heard, above all the other things going on. Joshua Trey comes running up to the door, but finds it locked. He yells for some referees to come help him, anyone to help at all. A couple come up to help. Eventually up to FIVE come. The five refs and Joshua all pound on the door loudly, trying to get in or get a response. Finally, a janitor runs up, fumbling with a huge ring of keys to open the door. Trying to find the right one, the referees push at him throwing off his concentration. After about a minute he finds the right key and opens the door. The refs charge into the room, the last one hitting the lights. As the lights go on, some of the referees fight the urge to vomit. Blood is smeared across various spots of the walls, but no Trey anywhere. One ref walking into the shower room yells for the others to come. The others pouring into the locker room find Trey lying on the ground covered in blood. The turn him over, finding cuts across his chest and arms and his face beaten severely. One ref runs for the paramedics.] Tim: MY... GOD!! [Before Tim can say another word, the HWF cameras cut to the parking lot. Specifically on Jonathan Storm's black jeep. Lance Sterling, with a huge-ass grin on his face, stands in front of the vehicle, talking to a blue-clad police officer.] Sterling: Yeah, I saw that this jeep was parked in a "NO PARKING" zone, and being a good citizen I figured I'd report it. Officer: Good; I can't stand garbage like that who violate our laws. Sterling: You and me both, officer. So... what'll happen to the jeep now? Officer: Well, we're going to have it impounded. If nobody comes to claim it in half an hour, it'll be crushed into a cube, and that'll be that. Sterling: Excellent. Hey, could I have the cube? I uh... collect cubes that used to be cars and jeeps and stuff like that. Officer: I... guess. Sterling: Excellent. [Sterling shakes the officer's hand, and we see a small glint of green paper. Cut back to ringside as Storm's jeep is towed away.] Tim: Did you see that? I don't believe what I just saw! Lance Sterling's having Jonathan Storm's jeep TOWED! Jeff: That man is brilliant. Tim: That man is EVIL! Jeff: Yes, yes he is. Boy, won't Storm be surprised to find out that his jeep has been impounded! Jeff: You know what's up next, don't you? Tim: SLOTH!!!! Jeff: Bisc's favorite Sin is up next, yo! Tim: Here's the match explanation for you peeps out there....The Tag Team Titles are on the line in a 30-minute No-DQ IronMan Match. The team with the most points at the end of the 30-minute time limit wins the Tag Team Titles. Points are awarded for: pinfall, KO and submission. Jeff: And? Tim: Oh yeah, it's a match between the Challengers: Wrecking Crew versus the Champs - Teen Angst. Oh and I better not forget - the Warriors of the Rising Sun do guest refereeing - and as a special bonus - if they call the match fairly - I THINK they get a shot at the next PPV - Parade of Cannibals 3 - at the TOKYO DOME IN JAPAN!!!! Jeff: God, I can't wait....I can't wait to nibble into a bit of 'Japanese'... Tim: You're SICK... [The Juppongatana blares through the arena as the arena lights dim. Red lights strobe throughout the arena as the fans sit in silence. Suddenly Tatsumi rushes from the back, his trademark Sickle raised over his head. Tatsumi stops on the stage as his partner, the stoic Jin Kobayashi, emerges from the back. Jin stops in the center of the stage and bows as Tatsumi jumps around on the stage trying to hype up the crowd. Tatsumi starts towards the ring followed by Jin who takes his time. Tatsumi slides into the ring first and runs from one turnbuckle to the other, climbing up and raising his Sickle into the air. Jin enters the ring in the chaos and stands motionless in the center. Tatsumi climbs to the top of another turnbuckle and blows his black mist into the air just as Jin breaks into a martial arts display. Tatsumi hops down from the turnbuckle as Jin finishes his display and bows to the crowd. Tatsumi tosses his Sickle into their corner and hops around, loosening up. Meanwhile Jin kneels in the teams corner and blesses himself. Jin finishes his prayer and rises to his feet. Jin looks to Tatsumi and the two men nod to each other as they await the contestants of the match] Jeff: Well, heres our resident Pyscho Refs!! Tim: They're not even wearin' stripes!! Oh well.... [Jin hops to the outside to be resident enforcer, while Tatsumi resides on the insides as the lights in the stadium dim as the camera focuses on the HWF-tron. On the massive screen stretches a gigantic brickwall, with nothing more than a low rumbling sound emitting from the PA system. The rumbling gets louder and louder as it becomes clear it's a loud engine on full throttle. The roar reaches its apex has the brickwall explodes, and a large, Ford Duelly Pickup blasts through as the lights flash wildly to the opening riff of "Lakini's Juice". From the entrance jumps Wildcat, Big Texas, and Joanna. Both men start walking down the rampway, obviously very serious, while Joanna loafs behind, pumping her arms in the air to get more reaction from the crowd. Wrecking Crew slides into the ring, and mount the nearest two turnbuckles. Wildcat cusses wildly at the fans, while Big Texas pumps his arms in the air. Joanna grabs a nearby seat, as both men dismount and circle the ring, staring up at the rampway waiting for Teen Angst.] Tim: The Crew seem ready and.... [BOOM.... "Close your eyes, take my hand, and let darkness lead you to new light..." [Chris Thrilla's haunting voice is heard followed by a HUGE pop from the crowd as "Disposable Teens" by Marilyn Manson starts. The arena lights go out and red strobe lights flicker throughout the arena. A large white screen also lowers down.]
And I'm a black rainbow, [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. The red strobe lights stop but red sirens on top of all four turnbuckles light up as the tag team champions show off their gold.] Jeff: Go the CREW!! Tim: I might have to agree with you - I'm getting sick of Angst as the champs. [Spike looks to the announcer and gets thrown a microphone. He steps over to Rickey Williams and lifts the mic up to his mouth to speak, but he starts coughing. He raises a finger to Rickey, as if to say, “wait a second”, and stops coughing. He goes to talk, but starts coughing again. He waves his hand in the air, motioning for Williams to wait. Rickey gets a little pissed off and is about to lunge at Spike, but Spike stops coughing and lifts the mic to his mouth. Rickey stops, ready to hear what Spike has to say finally. Spike opens his mouth, but stops... he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a water bottle. He opens it and takes a few sips. He coughs again, forcing him to take another sip. He closes the lid, tosses the bottle into the crowd and smiles, finally ready. He opens his mouth... takes a deep breath...lifts his other hand in front of Rickey, flips him off and cracks him in the forehead with the bottom of the microphone!] Tim: It's ON!! Jeff: Cheap, cheap CHEAP! Tim: Yes birdy... [30:00]
Special Referees = Warriors of the Rising Sun  Teen Angstc vs. Wrecking Crew [Rickey falls backwards into the corner, as Billy runs in and tackles Spike away. Chris runs in and goes for Billy, but Billy ducks a flying forearm attack which sends Chris flying over - into the arms of a dazed Rickey. Rickey grabs him in a fallaway slam setup and throws him OUT of the ring over the top rope...Chris landing HARD on the ground before rolling into the announcers booth. Tatsumi walks in and tells Rickey to take his corner....Rickey exits and awaits a possible tag.] Jeff: Well, looks like little Billy's starting this one off - go Billy GO!! [Billy backs off to the orders of Tatsumi as Billy and Spike stare down, circling each other around the ring. They lock up, pushing back and forth. After a few moments, of the standoff, Billy drops the grapple and shoves Spike back. Spike flicks the tip of his nose with his thumb as Williams takes a small breather. In a flash, the two are grappled again, reaching the same result. As Billy stares down Spike again, he lunges forwards, grappling Spike around his shoulders. With Billy’s momentum, Spike rolls backwards, bringing his knees up against Billy’s chest, tossing him over onto his back with a Monkey-Flip. He catches Billy’s arm on his way over and lifts him back to his feet, slinging him up in a fireman’s carry. He rolls forwards, bouncing Billy onto the mat and springs forwards, bouncing off the bottom rope in the corner with a moonsault. He bounces off of Billy’s chest with the small moonsault and springs to the second ropes, rebounding off onto Billy with another moonsault. He springs to his feet and vaults to the top rope, leaping off with a corkscrew legdrop!] Tim: WHAT A MOVE!!! Billy's DOWN! Jeff: Did you notice that Tatsumi is refereeing fairly? He might get that chance in Tokyo afterall!! Tim: You're watching Tatsumi at a time like this? Jeff: More interesting than watching Teen Angst, although the Crew are cool! [Spike looks at the crowd - who's BOOING him!] Tim: Teen Angst are HEELS in this matchup! [Spike looks confused...as Billy slides to the outside and grabs a ladder from under the ring. Spike turns his attention back to where Billy SHOULD be - and gets startled, he looks around and see Wildcat setting up the ladder. Spike then sets up - and waits....he then runs at Wildcat and does a side-twisting plancha - BUT....Wildcat swings the ladder around causing Spike to go CRASHIN into the ladder and subsequently crashing into the ladder AGAIN when the ladder crashes backwards against the guardrail. Spike rolls DOWN the ladder, and looks out of it - Billy looks happy.] Jeff: OH MAH GAWD! Spike's gotta have a couple of broken ribs on that one! [Wildcat then sets the ladder up again, and he rolls Spike in - Chris immediately jumps in and runs over to the apron where Billy is and knocks Billy backwards, which sends him down onto the floor - on his feet. Rickey comes running in, and Tatsumi holds him back. Chris helps Spike up and checks on his bro, while yellin' profanities and gesturing at Rickey. But as he's doing this - Wildcat scales the ladder, he spins around as the crowd go while before he leaps off with a corkscrew moonsault onto TWO un-aware opponentes....Spike's head crashes into Chris's...busting Chris's nose open. Billy looks hurt - but not as bad as Teen Angst. Rickey smiles, and hops back to the outside. Tatsumi then returns to check on the crash site.] Tim: These teams are already givin' it all - so early in the matchup. Jeff: Oh well, poor Teen Angst... [Chris starts to move, and rolls back to the apron - where he supposed to be. As Billy and Spike get up in unicen, they then proceed to lock up, shoving back and forth in the corner. Billy snaps a quick headbutt to Spike, knocking him out of the grapple. Billy lunges at Spike with rights and lefts, dropping him down to one knee in the corner. He keeps himself from falling to the mat by holding onto the ropes, but Billy kicks his hand away, dropping him to his stomach. Billy jumps on top of him, locking in a mounted sleeper on Spike, and wrenches away at his neck. Spike snaps his head backwards, cracking Billy square in the jaw with the back of his head, and knocking him out of the hold. Spike reaches up behind him and grabs onto Billy’s neck with both hands. Spike twists himself so Billy is facing upwards,with Spike locked onto him with a dragon sleeper! But as it seems to be the end ofor Billy - the wildcat reaches forward and sits his feet on the ropes, he then uses them to run up and flip backwards OVER Spike, before he switches it into an inverted faclock before Layout DDT'ing him to the mat in the most awesome of reversals!] Tim: Wow, what a nice comeback from the smaller William brother! Jeff: Everytime that little prick makes a fight - Billy comes back and lays him out!! Not like history is repeating itself... [Billy then grabs Spike, after regaining his stamina and brings him over into his corner...he tags in Rickey and the Big Texan lays in some huge Bradshaw-esque Clubs to his back. He then irish whips him into the ropes and follows up clotheslineing him out of the ring. Rickey puts too much force into the clothesline and goes over himself, but Spike hangs onto the top ropes and ends up on the apron. Billy charges finds his opportunity and hops in and charges Spike from the inside, but Spike low-bridges the ropes, sending him over the top to crash into Rickey. They both get up dazed, looking up at the ring. Thrilla hops in the ring and runs at them from inside the ring, vaulting up to the top ropes for a springboard. As he does that, Spike springboards from the top ropes in unison. They get extra bounce form the double weight, and fly up into the air - Spike landing on Rickey with an Asai moonsault, and Thrilla landing on Billy with a front flip plancha!] [25:00] Tim: OH MY...the tags didn't last long, aye? [The two teams stumble to the floor in a big pile. Teen Angst picks the Wrecking Crew back up and begins to whale away with their fists, knocking the Texans to their knees. Suddenly, the sound of an engine comes from the top of the ramp. Teen Angst’s black Z3 roadster flies out from the parking lot area down the ramp. The two teams try to dive out of the way, but are clipped by the front end. Spike rolls up onto the windshield and ends up sliding off the roof, with Billy doing the same on the other side. Rickey and Thrilla, nearly getting hit as well, slowly get to their feet in a daze. Out of the BMW comes a man dressed in black, wearing a ski mask and wielding a sledgehammer. He cracks Thrilla in the ribs, knocking him back down, and knocks Rickey in the head. He pulls two chains out of his pocket, dropping the hammer, and ties up the Crew, attaching the chain to the back bumper. He gets back into the running car and makes a tight U-turn, squealing the tires, sending smoke and dust into the Crew’s eyes. The car shoots forwards off the ramp, but before it falls off the edge, the man jumps out.] Jeff: What the flying assramming fuck is going on here?! Tim: Who the hell is this afghan? [The Z3 flies off the side of the ramp, crashing into the stage. The Wrecking Crew follows it right off... landing in the wreckage of the black roadster! The man stares at the Crew, laughing loudly, but shakes his head and picks his sledgehammer back up. Teen Angst has regrouped inside the ring, glaring at the man in the ski mask and go to attack him as he enters the ring. He ducks under, hitting Spike in the ribs but missing Thrilla. He tries to swing at Chris, but Spike is back up and yanks the ski mask off his head. He drops the sledgehammer and spins around to face the camera and… it’s... it’s... it’s...! GENOCYDE OF THE XCW!!!] Tim: What the hell is that bastard doing here?! Jeff: I don’t know, but all hail Tyler Crane!! Tim: This isn’t right! Someone get security, he’s not supposed to be in the ring! Jeff: He can do whatever he wants! He’s Genocyde! Tim: What a night of suprises!!! Next thing Espionage will come out and attack Teen Angst... Jeff: Espionage? They suck ass...I actually agree with Chris "Ass Driller" Thrilla that Howie-D should be in hospital - in the burns ward where he belongs!! Tim: I wonder what made Genocyde come out in THIS matchup? [Genocyde stands there, smirking at Teen Angst while getting TREMENDOUS heel heat from the crowd. The tag team champions glare back at him, shouting something. He kneels down slowly, picking the hammer back up. He waves the hammer at them, laughing, beckoning for them to attack. They do, but just before he swings, they dive underneath the ropes, avoiding him. He still swings the hammer at them from inside the ring, and looks as if he’s going to chase after them, but...] "IF ONLY WE COULD FLY..." [The crowd pops HUGE as the drum beat of “My Generation” hits. Genocyde stops, staring up at the ramp with a look of shock on his face. He retreats back into the ring, screaming his head off, trying to be heard over the music. The guitar hits.] "MY GE-GE-GENERATION!" [A flash of navy blue Docker Cargos, a white T-shirt and a black dress shirted Spanish man streaks through the crowd from behind Genocyde, sliding into the ring. He spins Genocyde around, kicking him in the gut. Genocyde drops the sledgehammer as the other man applies a Tomikazee. He spins to the right, lifting Genocyde over his shoulder, and drops backwards with a reverse Gori-Special suplex, bouncing him off the mat on the back of his head and neck. Genocyde rolls out of the ring, holding his head, wobbling on his feet. The camera gets a good look at his attacker.] Tim: IT’S MIKE LAWLESS OF THE XCW! HE JUST DROPPED GENOCYDE ON HIS ASS WITH HIS CLAIM TO FAME!!! Jeff: GOD DAMN THAT DIRTY CHALUPA!! Shouldn’t he be in Mexico somewhere?! [Genocyde hops the guardrail and runs through the crowd. Lawless first goes to check on Teen Angst, and then runs over to the Wrecking Crew, untying them from the wreckage of the Z3 roadster. He chases after Genocyde before they can get up, hopping the same guardrail. The two disappear through the crowd.] Tim: OH MY GOD! XCW HAS INVADED THE HWF!! Jeff: Damn Afghany Lawless...gerrrr. Tim: Oh fuck! I forgot about the Wrecking Crew!! Where are they? [Then...the lights dim.....the strobe dies....the crowd hushes....as...] =Biding my time= ..Untill the Time is Right.. =Biding my time= ..Untill the Time is RIght.. =Biding my time= Tim [from the silence]: What the FUCK is going on here... Jeff:... FUCK ME.... [The silence continues...]
[The stage gets immersed with a huge explosion...as "The Coming Curse" by Iced Earth (after the Piano part) hits the speakers...the immensly quick guitar riff hits, as from the dimly lit enterence steps a huge man - huge baggy black jeans cover his legs while a black "My Fist - Your Face" muscle t-shirt tightly clenches to his chest...as a huge black trenchcoat covers his body. Then you see his goatee....almost like Tazz's but longer....and thin a smirk....and then his calm eyes...and spiked hair. The crowd is already cheering...the lights slowly rise as a smoke surrounds the man. He rises his arms just as the lyrics "..AND SOMETHING WICKED COMES!" hits the speakers....the crowd is goin' off...the man's trenchcoat fly's backwards...as he slowly makes his way down to Teen Angst, who are now up....Chris Thrilla is looking straight at the man...his jaw is slung open...and Spike is behind him.] Tim: OH MY GOD!! Jeff: OH MY GOD!! Tim: HOLY FUCK!! Jeff: HOLY FUCK!! Tim: It's HOWITZER!!! Jeff: It is? Tim: SWEEET! Someone to hand Teen Angst's arses to them!! Jeff: SWEEEET! [Howitzer, stops...and points directly at Thrilla. He makes a sigh of bones breaking, as Chris looks worried for once. People are chanting Espionage! Espionage! But...his partner is no-where to be found!! Chris then starts to edge forward, as a man slides in from behind Tim and Jeff...and then through the ring, and behind Spike....Spike turns around and KACK! A huge right hand is delivered - knocking Spike straight down.] Tim: ASSAULT RIFLE! ASSAULT RIFLE!! Jeff: Oh fuck...Shrapnel is here now, shit!! Tim: I thought you'd like watching Teen Angst beaten up..? Jeff: Yeah - but I hate Espionage more. Tim: What a night of suprirses!!! [Howitzer then points to behind Chris, as Thrilla slowly turns around...to see Shrapnel there. In a very Raven-esque attire - but with a sleeveless Sepultura "Nation" t-shirt on. He is still bald and complete with huge-ass Tank Abbot Styles goatee. Chris looks down at Spike, and beginds to back back away from Shrapnel, but Howitzer is down behind him. The crowd is goin' off, as Chris backs right into Howitzer. He swings around, dwarfed by the bigman. He looks up, but a quick knee to his junk makes him look at the ground. Howitzer quickly hoists him up onto his shoulders in afireman's carry before Shrapnel gets down ala Buh-Buh Ray Dudley...Shrapnel does a double Middle-Finger Salute while pointing to Chris (instead of the 3D sign) as Howitzer swings him off in a fireman's carry pancake - right into the awaiting shoulder of Shrapnel who drops him down in a modified catch-Reverse-Russian-Legsweep...] Tim: HOLLOW POINT! HOLLOW POINT!! Jeff: Goddamnit, Chris is dead....[sniff] [Espionage get up, and quickly rise their arms as the crowd cheer their favorite tag-team. As they return to the back, the make a b-line for the crashsite of the car, and quickly dig-around to find the Wrecking Crew. It doesn't look too good though, bur Espionage manage to get the Crew back up on their feet, and help them back onto the ramp. Howitzer shakes big Rickey's hand, and sends him to the ring, as does Shrapnel with Billy...] Tim: Wow, that's what Wrestling has been missing for a long time - respect. [Tatsumi and Jin, while all this has been happening have been watching - eyeing their foes "Espionage". Howitzer and Shrapnel then stop at the curtain - and Howitzer whips a mic from his pocket....] Howitzer: Hey Pre-Teen Angst.....you guys really gotta back up your big words and insults, fellas...we'll see you at Chaos AD...that's IF we can be bothered. Oh - and remember....ther'll be NO FUCKING REMORSE.... [Huge pops from the Crowd - even if it was a dodgy promo] [They then exit to the back, posing one last time for the crowd!] Jeff: Thank god they've gone...who's next to make a surprise - Blake Frost? The Saint? Phah Q Dickshine? Death? Rizzo? [18:00] [The Crew look back with it - and make their way down to the motionless Teen Angst. The WC look a bit confused, but capitalize on their advantage, and Rickey start to take Teen Angst to the back of the arena. The Warriors do not move, and show that points can only be awarded IN the ring. But this doesn't stop Rickey who drags Spike's ass to the back. A new camera view is shown, as The Crew drag 'im into the carpark. ] Tim: This is going to get REAL nasty now, I can just see it... [Rickey takes hold of Spike's head, hauling him to his feet. He pulls Spike up onto a parked car and slams his head on the trunk a few times. Spike, stunned, stumbles backwards into the Big Texan again. Ricko grabs Spikes' waist and tosses him onto the trunk of the car, climbing up with him. Rickey stands over top of Spike, and hauls him to his feet again. He puts Spike in a chancery and throws his arm over his head, lifting him up and dropping him onto his back with a suplex. The roof shudders, Rickey picks Spike up again before drilling him with the Roughrider onto the hood, causing a huge thud and Spike’s head getting stuffed inside of it.] Jeff: OUCH! That would of fucking hurt! He's gotta be dead yo! [Meanwhile Billy has taken Chris back to the ring, to continue the real fight. Backstage the fight continues as Rickey grabs Spike’s head and rams it onto the driver’s side window repeatedly. Eventually... the glass breaks, and Spike’s head is stuck inside the glass of the door. Rickey grabs onto the door handle and opens the door, with Spike hanging out of the window. His torso is shoved all the way through the window, and Rickey climbs to the roof of the car. He glares down at Spike, leaps off and attempts to deliver a Texan Sized Legdrop tothe back of Spike - but Spike manages to withdraw - causing Rickey to land ass-first on the concrete....and hurt his 'ol tailbone.] Tim: These guys are giving it all - they're nearly dead.... Jeff: It's not a very Slothfull match!! [Spike shakes off his cobwebs and removes his head from the broken window, cutting himself up in the process...and letting out a small shriek. Spike pulls Rickey to the hood of the car, planting right hands to keep Rickey dazed. He stands Rickeyy up on the hood, hooking his leg with Rickey's and hooking his arm around Rickey's neck. He sweeps out Rickey's leg, and drops down with an STO Neckbreaker onto the windshield! Rickey's shoulders, neck and head bust right through the glass, sending the entire pane into the front seat of the car. Spike flips the Big Texan onto his stomach and pushes him farther into the gap where the windshield used to be. His legs still stick out of the car as Rickey steps over him to the roof. He stomps repeatedly on the weakened roof, jumping up and down with Rickey just underneath it. Finally, Spike gets fed up and jumps high into the air and drops down onto his back on the roof - this finally weakens the roof enough that it collapses, sending the front end crashing down onto Rickey, pinning him to the dashboard!] Tim: Hey...I think I know who's car that is... Jeff: [peers closly at the plates] I'M GOING TO FUCKING KILL SPIKE!!!! Tim: I thought it was yours!! [laughs] They've totalled your car man!! HEHEHEHE Jeff: I bet Spike thinks it's just like Street FIghter or something, kickin' the crap out of that car....well he might be a kid - but it ain't no videogame. [10:00] Tim: Still no points in this Ironman match - with only 10:00 remaining - and what a match it has been...suprises galore, eh? [On the inside - Billy and Chris are going at it trading blows, lefts, rights, lefts, right. Thrilla stops the exchange with a stiff chop, **WHOO!** and another, **WHOO!** and another, **WHOO!** and goes for a big time lariat, but it’s ducked by Billy. He spins Thrilla around and drops a big fat chop across his chest **WHOO!** and another, **WHOO!** and another, **WHOO!**, and goes for a similar lariat as Thrilla, Thrilla ducks and shoves Billy into the ropes. Billy bounces back, Thrilla drops down on his stomach, Billy jumps over him and bounces off the opposite ropes. Billy comes back, Thrilla leapfrogs over him, Billy bounces off the ropes again. Billy swings his arm for a clothesline, but caught by Thrilla, and dropped into a Fujiwara Armbar. Billy tucks his head underneath and rolls out of the armbar, wrenching Thrilla’s arm on the way up. He wrenches again, sending Thrilla into a forwards roll, which loosens his arm once. T hrilla gets to his knees after the roll, drops his head and his free arm, and pops up onto his feet ala Tajiri, unwrenching his arm completely. Billy pulls Thrilla towards him and tries a short-arm clothesline, Thrilla ducks it and ends up behind Billy, holding one of his arms in a straightjacket. He brings his other arm up, locks in a half nelson and bridges backwards, dropping Billy on the back of his head and shoulders with a single straightjacket, half nelson suplex!] Jeff: Oh my gosh - his head has been drove through the mat... Tim: uhh, no it hasn't. [Chris then darts over for a quick cover, the first in the match...] Jeff: This could be one point to Teen Angst here... [Tatsumi drops down - ONE....TWO.....THRE...KICKOUT!!!] Tim: WHOA! Billy still has some fight left in him!! [Chris looks infuriated - and starts to shove Tatsumi, but Tatsumi just stands there like a statue...which allows Wildcat to sneak in and roll Chris up...] [One....Two....Thre..KICKOUT!!] Jeff: Two quick covers...out of nowhere... [Chris then levels Wildcat with a clothesline. The camera cuts to the back - but you don't see Spike hammering on Rickey - instead you see Spike layed out through the windscreen of another car - and Rickey slowly making it towards the ring...] Tim: What the hell happened there?!?! Jeff: Spike's met Car Window by the looks of it!! Now Rickey's headin' the ring....Chris is gunna die!! [04:32] [Chris reverses a Williams irish whip, and slides underneath him on the rebound. Billy comes back again with Thrilla leapfrogging over his head. Billy comes back off the ropes again, and swings his arm with a clothesline, The Canadian Killah counters with an arm drag. Billy hops up from the small impact with the mat and turns around, getting dropped with another arm drag. This time, Billy had more of a roll than the last one, sending him farther away from Thrilla than he wanted, so he charges back at Chris, reaching for his throat viciously. Thrilla leans backwards, catching one of his arms with his opposite and tosses him into the air with a Japanese arm drag. Williams rolls to his feet, dizzy from being thrown around by Thrilla, and is easily taken down with a hammerlock leg sweep. Chris - with all his energy - dives on top of Billy’s back, reaching underneath his body for his other arm, and wrenches that one into a hammerlock, giving Billy a double chicken-wing face down on the mat! Chris pulls back hard, straining Billy's shoulders and elbow joints, and just as it looks like Thrilla is releasing the hold, he hangs on and begins to plant Billy’s forehead into the mat repeatedly!!] Tim: Whoa - he's still fighting - he needs to get a point so his team can win the pointidge! Jeff: I can't believe the little Fragile Fuck still has fight left in him!! [03:59] [Thrilla begins to spin Billy for an irish whip, but Billy reverses and sends Chris into the ropes instead. Billy bounces off the opposite ropes and tries for a high spinning wheel kick, which Chris slides under, barely avoiding it. The two ocntinue off the ropes back at each other with Thrilla flying off the second ropes with a springboard cross-body block, but Billy dives to the right as Chris comes down to the mat on his stomach. Thrilla staggers to his feet, and Billy bounces off the ropes again, trying to hit Chris while he’s dazed with a flying lariat, but Thrilla snaps wide awake at the sight of Billy leaping through the air and catches him, dragging Billy to the mat with a spinning reverse Fujiwara arm-bar. He then releases the hold and the two start to rise, when Billy spins around - Chris is waiting...and BAM - he kicks him, locks on a facelock and drives him to the mat with his finished - "The Thriller".] [02:23] Jeff: Oh fuck! He might win it - or atleast get a point! Tim: I'm surprised there hasn't been a point - not one point at all! [Chris lies on his back - along with Wildcat. They both are breathing heavily - and Chris doesn't have the strength to roll over for a cover. As the time ticks down to under 2:00 remaning - Rickey Williams staggers out from the back - cut up and bruised.] Tim: RICKEY'S BACK!! [Thrilla then finally rolls over.....for the cover attempt - Tatsumi, who's played it calm and fair and really has only been there for decoration drops down for the count..] [One....] [Two....] [Thre.....RICKEY COMES IN WITH THE SAVE!!] Jeff: YES YES YES!! You big stupid texan!! YES! [Chris goes tumbling over with a flat minute remaining. Rickey then rolls to the apron, and starts to scale the turnbuckle...waiting for a big clothesline to finish it off. But Billy is up first - and he BLOCKS the view and firing line of Rickey. The Big William doesn't look all too please...as Thrilla slowly gets to his feet. In typical - Rock Bottom - fashion, Thrilla spins around and is caught with a Rock Spinebuster from BILLY!! Wildcat then grabs Billy's legs - and locks 'em up for his 8 Seconds Sharpshooter....he try's to turn him over but can't...Thrilla's fighting it off....Suddenly Wildcat turns him - not over, but spins it around...and Rickey leaps off the turnbuckle - landing a fuckign deadly legdrop that isn't really a 'drop' because as he lands on the face of Billy, he slides and rolls across Billy's neck - probably breaking it, this allows Wildcat to turn Thrilla with the momentum...with 10 stinkin' seconds remaining.] Jeff: Oh my god! Will Chris hold out?!?! [10....9....8.....7......6.......5.......4........3...........2.......*Tap Tap Tap*....1....BRRRRR] Tim: HE TAPPED OUT! HE TAPPED OUT!!!!! Jeff: WE HAVE NEW TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS!!! Tim: WRECKING CREW HAVE DONE IT!! WITH A 1-0 WIN OVER TEEN ANGST!!!! Jeff: Finally! I thought them ho's Espionage were going to have to beat Teen Angsts huge streak...THANK GOD THE CREW HAVE DONE IT!!! [Tatsumi rolls out to the outside and grabs the tag-team belts....he rolls back in and as Rickey, Billy and Joanna embrace he hands them the belts. He rolls to the outside and takes stance by theside of Jin. As the Crew are thrown a couple of beers, Stone Cold Style - they turn to face the Warriors of the Rising Sun - who followed their stipulation to referee fair....a staredown ensues as the camera cuts from them....down to Chris...who hasn't moved then to backstage where Spike still hasn't moved...then back to some dynamic shots of the Crew/Warriors staredown.] Tim: Folks, I hate to do this... But I just got word Tony Bradshaw is backstage with Phoenix. Unfortunately, I think we have to go to that now. Jeff: Woohoo, the hero. Tim: Woohoo, the coward. [The screen switches to shot of Tony standing in the back at a door marked “Phoenix.” Tony knocks on the door twice when it suddenly swings open. Phoenix stands in the doorway with Bisc and Claire playfully kissing on a couch in the background as the fans in the arena begin to boo. Phoenix is wearing his flame covered pants and a plain black shirt.] Tony: I was told you had some words to say on your match tonight with Michael Trey. Phoenix: Well, it’s more for my plans after the match than on the match itself, but if you want to talk about the match first, let’s talk. What do you want to know? Tony: Well first off, this match is rather dangerous as you very well know, so how do plan to avoid getting seriously injured? Phoenix: I’m not really concerned about that anymore. I know I’m going to get hurt in there. I think we all do. Whether it’s from bouncing off the cold hard floor, getting thrown off of the balcony, or flat out getting burned, I will be hurt in this match. I see this coming and I expect it to happen. It flat out doesn’t bother me anymore. It’s not a matter of if I will be hurt, it’s only a matter of how bad. Tony: So then if you plan on being hurt, what about winning? How are you planning on doing that if you plan on getting hurt? Phoenix: I don’t know if you know this Bradshaw, but this is more than a match to me. Maybe the fans don’t realize it and maybe even the front office doesn’t recognize this yet either. But this match will be special. Although there will only be two men inside that church, this match means so much more on a bigger scale. This match isn’t about Michael Trey and Claire. This match isn’t about Michael Trey and Bisc Li. Hell, this match isn’t even about Michael Trey and Phoenix anymore. This is a match about ideals. Mr. Golden Boy himself has and for as long as he sticks around, will always be the symbol of the HWF. He was one of the ground breaking hardcore athletes around the time of Y2K and he was a powerful big name last summer around Indecent Exposure. And now, just like the HWF, he has become older, boring, and separated from his roots. I, on the other hand, am the ideal new age wrestler right now. I am young, I am hungry for the spotlight, and I definitely have the talent to be at the top of this company just like so many other names who are stuck farther down on the card. Together, we can make this company the haven of hardcore that is used to be, but not as long as Trey stands on top of the ranks. There is too big of a conflict of ideals in this company right now between the big names determining to hold on to their fleeting glory and us newcomers who are only going for what’s ours. That is what this match is about. Which generation is the best for this company right now, Mine or Trey’s? Tony: Then if this is a match of ideals as you say, how do you plan on showing that your new age hardcore is better than what the HWF is used to? Phoenix: It’s real simple Bradshaw. I’m not leaving that church later tonight under my own power. If that means Trey has to beat me unconscious, drag my body over to a window and throw my dying carcass out the window meaning I lost without giving in, then so be it. If Trey wants to talk about how he has been almost killed in the ring three times now, I might have to add a tally to my column. If Trey wants to talk about how I haven’t ever been burned, then maybe I might have to take a few burns to prove him wrong. If Trey wants to say that I can’t compete at his level, then I’m just going to have to take him to the limit like I did last November. Plain and simple, whatever Trey says I can’t do, I plan on showing him I can in that church later tonight. That’s what I can do and that’s what the new age is able to do. Don’t you think I pushed the limit last year at Reckless Behavior? Don’t you think Teen Angst pushed the limit in the cell at Holy Night? Don’t you think Jonathon Storm pushed the limit in beating Sterling twice at Holiday Hangover 3? I think it’s time for everyone to face the music. The new age of hardcore is here and it’s not going anywhere whether Trey likes it or not. But now, on to more important matters, what I need after the match. Tony: What’s going on after the match? Phoenix: That’s where you come in. Now I don’t know if I’ll be in condition to do this later, so would you be able to do a favor for me? Tony: What’s that? Phoenix: I want you to get a sympathy card for Trey's family saying I’m sorry for what I did to Michael and then send that along. You can just sign my name at the bottom for me if you would. Tony: What are you talking about? I’m not going to do that. Phoenix: Fine then. But although I know I’m getting hurt, I know I’m going to do the same to Trey. I may not be able to walk out, but he damn sure won’t have that option either. Someway or another, I’m going to make this Trey’s last match. Whether it’s from throwing him off of things or just flat out burning him senseless, he won’t be able to wrestle another match. I don’t really know what I’ll do to him yet, but I think for his sake and for his mother’s, you just hope that he is able to breathe when this is all said and done. Tony: C’mon now, even I know you’re not capable of killing another man. Phoenix: You’ll never know what you’re fully capable of doing until you try it. [Phoenix laughs to himself as he turns around on Tony, slamming the door in his face, Bisc and Claire giggling in the background. Our camera cuts to another location as Kyle Solomon is seen walking towards a door labelled "Chris Davison/Tempest lockeroom"] Jeff: Finally he's getting someone who deserves it! I knew that damned handshake from his match with Tempest was a work! [Kyle walks into the dressing room where Tempest is sitting beside Chris Davison; both of them prepping folr their upcoming matches. Upon seeing Kyle enter the room, Tempest stands up defensively, with Chris backing her up, standing strongly up against her back.] Solomon: Relax Tempest I'm not here for you. [Solomon reaches out his hand and kind of puts Tempest off to the side as she steps to the side with a puzzled look on her face.] Chris: I don't know what yo- Solomon: Enough. I created the Kiss the Bride match, and I won it against a man in your predicament. [With that, Kyle leans forward and whispers a few short sentences in Davison's ear as Davison nods his head with a serious look on his face. Solomon takes a step back as Chris slaps him on the shoulder in thanks.] Solomon: I just thought it'd be fair to even the odds. Silky's known me for a long time, he knows what I've told you... the shortcuts. [Solomon then turns to Tempest and smirks.] Solomon: Good luck in your match eh? [With that, Kyle backs up out of the door with a skip as he runs back to his lockeroom.] Jeff: You know Tim, after a while, you think the hate would die down... you really would. Tim: Does it? Jeff: No! It doesn't! It increases! I hate that guy! [The camera cuts once again to the back, interrupting Jeff once again as Kyle Solomon is seen on the ground of his lockerroom holding his left knee in immense pain with a steel chair is laying on the ground beside him!] Jeff: What the hell happened!?!? WE MISSED THE ONLY GOOD THING TO HAPPEN TO THAT LITTLE BASTARD ALL NIGHT! Solomon: AAHHHHHHHHHH! [HWF Staff flood Solomon's lockeroom as he begins to get questioned as to what happened.] Solomon: That BASTARD nailed me in my FUCKING knee... Attendant: Well you know what thi- Solomon: I'm NOT wearing that FUCKING brace. FORGET ABOUT IT, there's NO WAY. Attendant: Look Kyle, I'm sick and tired of you wrestlers giving me the heroic routine of how tyou won't do this and that because of your pride. Well listen and listen good. I don't care how much you want to forget your past or the SWF or the Kosan Death Match. We have strict orders from staff to treat you for any injury to your knee. You're an HWF investment Kyle. You do what we say or you don't wrestle at all. Got it? Solomon: Fine. Tim: Kyle's got to wear his knee brace again! How's he going to last a half hour with his old bum knee!?!?! Jeff: tut tut Tim. hush hush. When a professional wrestler suffers a major injury, he's supposed to have the ligament or appendage healed and trained back to 125%. If anything, he should put MORE stress on the limb so that it doesn't get reinjured. Two weeks ago with Blackjack and now our chairshot-and-run this week... Solomon just doesn't heal his injuries properly. He doesn't take proper care of his body. Tim: Well that's all nice and well, but the wrestlers are about to hit the ring for this upcoming ENVY match on the Seven card... and it's going to start with or without Solomon! [The low electronic hum that begins the Lo-Fideltiy All-Stars' "Battle Flag wafts over the arena as the lights go out, but for a few blue strobes, flickering over the crowd in time. A thunderous cheer nearly drowns out the softer part of the song as the heavier beat kicks in and blue spot lights scans the entrance. Suddenly a strange shape hops into the entrance. It's Tempest, but with long bunny ears. She's dressed in a white PVC bodysuit complete with the Smackdown! title belt, perched precariously over a puffy whit cotton tail. She carries a basket and hops out a little further grinning at the crowd's laughter and cheers. She fishes a mic out of the basket and speaks.] Tempest: OK, I know it's corny, but someone has to keep representing fun around here! And it's not a sin thankfully. I know this match is all about Envy, but I don't have anything to envy with any of you. You may envy me my belt, but that's about all I imagine you would. Should I envy Kyle his new found "freedom"? NO... Should I envy Zakin his determination? Well, maybe, if it weren't already rivaled by my own. Should I envy Gavin his God status? Considering it's n illusion... No. And should I envy...well, anything at all about Black Jack? I think not. Not even his legendary status in his own mind. So in the spirit of doing anything but sin, I have a little present for you all. And I'm proud of the fact that I didn't eat them all myself. [She grins at the crowd and drops the mic, then hops along, tossing out what look like foil wrapped chocolate Easter eggs. They fly into the crowd and are quickly snatched up. She trots around the rings tossing out a few more, before stopped at the announce table and wiggling her nose quizzically in the direction of Tim and Jeff.] Tim: Hey, a visit from the Easter bunny! Jeff: Yeah, hehe... c'mere little bunny, I got a carrot for ya... [Tempest sauntered over and leaned over far enough for the mic to pick up her voice.] Tempest: I tell ya what Jeff. Since you always seem to find the grossest thing smart to say, I have a challenge for ya. [She plucks the bunny ears from her head and places them on Jeff's.] Tempest: You keep those on throughout the match as a reminder to keep your comments nice about me and I won't have to come ver her and break your table ok? Though personally I think I should get extra points for it. [With that she turns and pulls off the bunny tail and glances at a cheering throng of young men before getting a mischievous grin and tossing to them. Then she hops off to the ring. Suddenly "Heavy" by Collective Soul kicks over the PA System, drumming through the ears of the audience. The entire arena goes dark and blue strobe lights begin to circle throughout the crowd. The crowd recognizes the music and begins to boo and jeer just as Gavin Coens steps out from behind the curtain. He raises his arms towards the fans, completely ignoring the chorus of boos. He walks down the aisle slapping the hands of fans who are reaching out to tear off a peice of him. Gavin doesn't seem to notice at all though as he makes his way down to the ring. He slides in casually and continues to signal towards the fans. The blue strobe lights stop and the arena lights are restored. Gavin readies himself in his corner and the music stops.] Tim: Srong words from Tempest, Jeff. Jeff: Yeah, strong words for a woman... ["Fame" by DMX suddenly hits the speakers, as Blackjack appears at the top of the entrance ramp. He stops there for a minute, looking around the arena and then to the ring. Blackjack smirks a little and then takes off down the ramp. He runs and slides into the ring, where he quickly makes his way to a corner and raises his arm in the air. He hops down, as "Fame" begins to fade out.] Tim: I don't know about you Jeff, but Blackjack's my pick to win this one tonight. Jeff: No... no don't know about me... Tim: What does THAT mean!?! ["My Way" by Limp Biscuit starts up. A white smoke begins to fill the entrance way. After a few seconds Fred Durst begins to sing the lyrics.]
#Special [A huge explosion or red pyro goes off on cue and the song plays on. Jon E. Karman's whistle is faintly head for the music is absolutely blaring. David Zakin emerges from the back with a kendo stick wrapped in barbwire in hand. Zakin waits at the entrance ramp until the second verse ends and as soon as the second chorus begins he raises the kendo stick high in the air and generates a huge pop from the crowd. Zakin walks down to the ring with Jon following close behind. Zakin slides into the ring and immediately hops up on the top rope. Zakin raises both his arms high in the air generating a rather large pop. Zakin hops down and places the kendo stick in the corner. Zakin music cuts.] ["High Voltage" by Linkin Park hits the speakers as Kyle Solomon appears from the black abyss of the backstage area. With eyes opened focusedly and staring at his opponents, he limps to the center of the entrance ramp and stands still, facing the ring. Kyle looks to be painfully attempting to ignore the injury suffered to his left knee. The crowd erupts, breaking his stare as Kyle suddenly snaps his head around to see the audience applauding him. He folds his arms while cocking his head up in the air as we can see his forest green 3/4 length pants and black cut-off "Kyle Solomon" t-shirt. He wears a heavy knee brace on his left knee as Kyle now brings focus back to his opponent as he walks slowly down to ringside, biding his time so as to gather as much healing time for his knee as he can get until the bell rings. Stepping up onto the apron while holding the ropes for balance, Solomon cautiously climbs the turnbuckle, raising his hands in the air to the delight of the crowd, and then drops into the ring, wincing as his left knee hits the ground] Jeff: Now... something just don't seem right here Tim: Strangely enough, I was thinking the same thing. I coulda sworn th- Jeff: Shut up Tim, no one wants to hear your damned theories: We have a match to start! Now shut up! [Ding! Ding! Ding!]  Tempestc vs. Gavin Coens vs. Kyle Solomon vs. David Zakin vs. Blackjack Jeff: WAHOO! Tim: This is sure to be a sweet ass match. Jeff: [plays with bunny ears] Damn straight! [As soon as the bell rings, Gavin and Zakin go RIGHT after each other. They begin trading punches back and forth, equally getting in hard shots. Tempest and Solomon lock up, while Blackjack leans up against a corner turnbuckle, watching the action.] Tim: Blackjack's such a lazy bastard! Jeff: That's smart of him! He's watching the fights until he finds a place where he can step in and take over. Tim: There's a name for a person like that...... Jeff: Yeah? What is it? Tim: Lazy bastard! [ Solomon grabs Tempest's arm and whips her to the ropes, and follows her to them. When Tempest gets to the ropes, she drops down and slides under them, and pops up on the apron just as fast. Solomon gets to the ropes, just as Tempest leans back on the ropes and pulls them down, sending Kyle flipping over the ropes and landing on his back on the outside.] Tim: Quick thinking there by Tempest. [Zakin gets the advantage on Gavin, and starts laying hard punches to him with no retaliation. Gavin gets backed up the ropes, and gets whipped to the other side. He bounces off the ropes, and Zakin catches him with a strong clothesline on the way back. Tempest changes her attention from Solomon, to Blackjack, who's resting it up in the corner. Blackjack looks to her, and gets out of the corner. He reels back and swings a hard right hand at her, which she blocks. She goes to return a punch of her own, but her feet get pulled out from under her and she gets dragged to the outside by Solomon.] Jeff: I don't think Solomon's done with her! Tim: Tempest diverted her attention from him. That wasn't good. [Tempest's feet hit the outside floor, and Solomon promptly lays her out HARD with a powerful right hand. Tempest rolls onto her stomach, and pushes herself up to her knees, as Kyle grabs her by the hair and pulls her up the rest of the way. Tempest then lands a well-placed shot to his gut, making him release her hair. She grabs Kyle's head and smacks it on the side of the ring, then rolls him into the ring under the bottom rope. Tempest climbs onto the apron, and gets back in the ring through the ropes. Meanwhile, Coens is in control of Zakin now, and has him against the corner diagonal from where Blackjack is. He lays a couple punches to David, then grabs his arm and whips him across the ring, right into Blackjack. Blackjack is slightly dazed from this, and staggers out from the corner when Zakin backs off of him. Zakin grabs BJ and whips him towards Gavin, as Gavin catches him with a powerslam to the mat, and stays there for the cover.] [1!!!...2!!...Kickout!!] Jeff: I bet THAT woke his ass up. Tim: Indeed. Blackjack really needs to get into this match. [Tempest starts stomping on Solomon, then picks him up. As Gavin stands up, facing Blackjack, he gets dropped right back down by a dropkick to the back of the head by Zakin. Tempest goes to whip Solomon again, but this time he reverses it and sends her across the ring, running right into the ladder!] Tim: THAT had to hurt! [Tempest winces in pain from the impact, but then looks up and sees the belt hanging above her. She then turns around and starts to climb the ladder pretty fast, in hopes of getting there and the belt before anyone notices. Zakin grabs Gavin and tosses him to the outside, and follows him out, while Blackjack gets to his feet. Tempest gets near the top of the ladder, and the crowd starts to cheer.] Jeff: This match is about to be over already!! Tim: I wouldn't be so sure.. [Sure enough, Blackjack's spotted her, and is quickly climbing after her. Tempest reaches up, and the tip of her finger barely touches the dangling belt. Blackjack then grabs Tempest's ankles, and she starts to try to kick him off. It doesn't work, and Blackjack gets a firmer grip, and pulls Tempest away from the belt. He then pushes her ALL the way off, and she goes falling back down to the ring, crashing onto the mat.] Tim: Oh MAN! [Solomon quickly makes his way to the ladder, as Blackjack is now climbing it. Zakin drops Gravin with a vicious chair shot, then grabs a table from under the ring and slides it into the ring. Blackjack reaches the VERY top, with one foot on the top step, just as Kyle reaches him. Blackjack grabs for the title above him, just as Solomon grabs one of his feet and pulls it out from under him!! Blackjack is caught by surprise and falls forward towards the neighboring ring, but does a complete flip forwards and smashes his back into the ladder on the way down, THEN falls face-first onto the mat!] Jeff: Holy shit!! What a FALL!! Tim: Blackjack's gonna be laying there for quite some time. [Solomon loses his balance, and falls also, but onto the mat he was previously on. Gavin slides back into the ring, and has a chair in his hand. Tempest gets to her feet, but is quickly dropped again by Gavin and his Chair o' Deth. Gavin drops the chair, then picks up the table in the ring and sets it up by the corner. He then picks up Tempest, leading her over to the corner. Coens backs up against the corner, and hops up.. sitting on the top rope. Gavin shows great strength by picking Tempest up in a powerbomb position,.then stands up straight and holds Tempest in the powerbomb position over the table. Just then, Zakin slides in out of nowhere and springboards off the ropes. Just as Gavin begins to release Tempest, Zakin catches her and delivers reverse dragonstiener through the table, with Tempest hitting a hurricanrana to Gavin off the top as well!!] Tim: OH MY GOD! Jeff: That was the sweetest shit I've even fucking SEEN! ["HWF" "HWF" "HWF"] [All three people lay there on the mat after that one, just as Blackjack finally gets to his feet in the other ring. He shakes his head, the gather himself, and makes his way to the other ring. As soon as he gets in there, he's caught by a right hand by Solomon. Kyle swings again, but it's blocked this time by BJ, and he kicks Kyle in the gut. Solomon doubles over, and Blackjack throws on a standing head scissors.] Tim: Uh oh.. [Tempest slowly props herself up with her elbows, and you can see a small trickle of blood come down from her forehead. She reaches up and wipes her forehead. Tempest sees the blood on her hand, and swears to herself.. but it doesn't look like it was in English.] Jeff: ...The fuck did she just say?? Tim: I don't know. But I think it was in Chinese. Jeff: [starts spouting off random jibberish that's SUPPOSED to sound Chinese... I guess...] Tim: Jeff, will you SHUT.. UP! Jeff: ............. [Blackjack goes to lift Kyle up for a powerbomb, but Kyle blocks it. Solomon lifts him up for a back body drop, but holds onto his legs as Blackjack hangs behind Kyle. Kyle stumbles around a little bit, but finally seems to steady himself...at least, for a second it did. Suddenly, Kyle's left knee gives out on him, and he falls down into a botched Kryptonite Krunch on Blackjack!!] Tim: OH.... Jeff: ....SHIT! [Solomon falls ontop of Blackjack for the pin.] [1!!!....2!!!....3!!!] Tim: That's three points for Kyle Solomon! Jeff: I think I saw Blackjack's head almost pop off!! [Tempest finally rises to her feet, and so does Zakin. They look at each other, and lock up. Zakin the obvious stronger of the two, applies a side headlock. Tempest pushes Zakin forward into the ropes and Zakin holds on sending Tempest into a backwards summersault. Tempest charges at Zakin and Zakin tries to back body drop Tempest over the top, but Tempest does some amazing acrobatics and is able to hold onto the ropes and stay on the apron. Zakin gets a smirk on his face for he things he has got rid of Tempest. Zakin expression immediately changes because Tempest jumps over the top and tires to bulldog Zakin. Zakin falls to one knee, but does not go down. Tempest then stands up with him in a reverse facelock, and punches him in the face a couple times. She runs to the corner, kicks off, hits a backflip while still holding him and drops him down into a Rottweiler!] Jeff: ROTTWEILER! Tim: Devestating Rottweiler by Tempest! And we're down to the twenty minute mark, everyone!! [Tempest goes for the cover, but it's quickly broken up by Kyle. Gavin gets to his feet, and goes right after Kyle's left knee. He kicks him right in it, and Kyle winces in pain and drops like a sack of potatoes.] Tim: Kyle's really favoring that knee of his... Jeff: Hmph, serves him RIGHT. He shouldn't have came up into this match all fucked up. Now he's getting just what he deserves. [Gavin walks over to the ladder, and pulls it over to the ring he's in. He folds it up, and sets it up as a bridge on the outside.. in between the ring and the guardrail. Zakin starts to stir, and finally gets to his feet. Tempest grabs him, but he catches her in the gut with a right hand. Tempest lays a strong elbow to Zakin's back, and stops his retaliation. She goes to whip him to the ropes, but he reverses it and whips her to the ropes instead. Tempest bounces off the ropes, and Zakin goes for a standing side kick, but Tempest drops down and rolls on the ground while picking up the steel chair. She quickly continues the roll and rolls back up to her feet with the chair, just as Zakin finishes the missed-kick. Tempest follows up with a HARD chair shot to David Zakin's head that resounds across the arena!] Tim: DAMN! Did you HEAR that?!? [Without hesitating, Tempest drops down onto Zakin.] [1!!!...2!!!...3!!!] Tim: Tempest scores three points! Jeff: I wish I could score with Tempest.... Tim: ANYWAY...back to the match. [Gavin looks over and sees Zakin laying there, and grins evily. He makes his way over to him, and pushes Tempest off of him. Tempest looks up at Gavin, and sneers at him, then gets up quickly. Before she could go after him though, she's attacked by Blackjack. Solomon starts to rise to his feet, with the help of the ropes. Gavin drags Zakin to the ropes, and clotheslines him over the top, but Zakin lands on his feet. Gavin gets out of the ring, and goes to advance on Zakin, but Zakin catches Gavin with a monster spear, right into the ladder!] Jeff: [marking out] SPEAR!!! SPEAR!!! [The ladder falls one side off the ring, so it's now laying up against the railing. Zakin gets up, and starts stomping on Gavin.] Tim: The time's winding down in this, pehaps the most hellacious Smackdown title match in the federation's history! Jeff: Shut up Tim! Let's talk about the real story here, that jobber Kyle Solomon's knee getting bashed to all hell around the damn ring! [Tempest grabs Kyle's head and pulls him up from the ground as Gavin Coens downs David Zakin with a standing vertical suplex. Kyle gets a second wind as he hits Tempest in the stomach numerous times, and nails her with a single arm DDT as she bends down holding her stomach. Blackjack slides in from outside of the ring and clips Kyle's left knee as the Mark gets to his feet; sending the former Smackdown Champion to the ground writhing in pain as all the punishment towards his knee has seem to have climaxed.] Jeff: Look at him! Look at him! That little Mark's on the ground. Who's on the Mark now Solomon!?!? WELL!?!?! Tim: This is NOT a healthy kind of dislike Jeff. You should seek mental help. [Blackjack runs to the ropes as Tempest gets to her feet and attempts a clothesline, but Tempest grabs him in a bulldog headlock, and runs towards the turnbuckle. She maintains the headlock while running up the turnbuckle. At the peak of her jump, Tempest spins 180 degrees around and grabs Blackjack in a front face lock with the OTHER arm. Tempest then uses her momentum to continue the tornado-movement with him and manages to drop BJ into a wild-looking inverted DDT! Tempest then slowly gets to her feet, as David bodyslams Gavin onto the mat, then looks towards Tempest.] Jeff: Looks like Zakin's got it out for Tempest! [Suddenly, Tempest's attention is diverted from the match to the Extream Screen, as it produces an image of Kyle Solomon from earlier in the night, walking to his dressing room.] Jeff: What the hell is this? Tim: This is footage of Kyle Solomon right before this very match! [Tempest stands in the ring with a puzzled look as she watches Kyle on the screen as he grabs a chair on the way to his lockerroom, and folds it up. She looks back at Solomon, who is behind her writhing in pain holding his left knee, then looks back to see Kyle on the Extream Screen walk into his dressing room, and slam the steel chair against the wall! As she watches this in confusion, Kyle kips up behind her stretching out his left knee with ease! He gets in a ready stance as Blackjack is still out from the massive inverted DDT. Extream-Screen-Solomon begins to yell in pain as he grabs his left knee in fake pain as Tempest finally realizes what's been going on, and turns around, only to be scooped into a bodyslam position, and dropped into an inverted piledriver onto Blackjack! Solomon covers them both up for the count!] [1!!!] [Zakin sees this and hops up onto the apron as fast as he can.] [2!!!] [He then slingshots himself into the ring.] [3!NO!!!!] [It's BARELY broken up, by Zakin who lands a senton splash on Solomon, Tempest, and Blackjack. Gavin is up, and slowly climbs up onto the apron. He leans against the ropes, because of exhaustion. Zakin sees this, and runs at him. Because Gavin does not see him, Zakin does a sunset flip over Coens, grabs him on the way down, and powerbombs him onto the floor!] Tim: What a powerbomb by David Zakin!! Jeff: I just noticed something. Tim: What? Jeff: Nobody's hardly even USED that other ring. Tim: Yeah, I guess you're right...... for once. Jeff: ..bastard. [Solomon and slowly gets to his feet, and starts trying to regain his composure. Gavin is stirring on the outside, as Zakin picks him up. Gavin realizes what's going on, and knocks Zakin's hands away from him. In the ring, Tempest slowly begins to stand, and gets to her feet. Solomon sees her, and approaches her. Both Zakin and Gavin, and Kyle and Tempest, begin trading furious punches with each other back and forth.] Tim: We’re at the 15-minute mark of the Smackdown Title modification match. Jeff: And all five men... err... people, are still going at it. Except for Blackjack, who is laid out by the ropes. [Tempest and Solomon are still going back and forth in the one of the rings. Blackjack is laid out in that same one. And Gavin and Zakin are trading punches on the outside with the ladder on the guardrail. Tempest brings in the ladder as Solomon is recovering from the blow to the jaw. He charges at her when she gets back in. Tempest catches Solomon in a bulldog set up and runs, but before she can plant him, he starts to shove her off into the corner. She leaps up and runs up the turnbuckles and flips back, dropping him in a Rottweiler. He staggers up and Tempest dropkicks him back into the ladder, which clatters at his weight. His arm is caught in it as he holds himself. She reaches up and yanks his head back, popping it against the ladder with a loud clang. While he's recovering, she wrenches his head back and tucks it under the rung of the ladder. His arm and head are now pinched into place. She drops down and tugs his legs out from under him so he's hanging from the ladder. He flails for a moment.] Tim: That doesn’t look very comfortable! Jeff: Well, you gotta be envious of Solomon right now. I mean, look who he’s in the ring with! Tim: You’re an ass!
POINT UPDATE: [Zakin and Gavin have made their way into the second ring. Zakin hits a spinebuster on Gavin, and applies a sharpshooter! In the other ring, Blackjack has gotten a belly-to-back suplex on Tempest, and Kyle Solomon has managed to get out of the ladder, and is going to set it up in the middle of the rings.] Tim: Solomon is looking to take this match early! [Gavin has reversed the sharpshooter into an ankle lock, and is applying too much pressure. Zakin quickly taps out. Gavin is awarded the 3 points for a submission. He sees Kyle Solomon climbing the ladder in the middle of the rings. So does Tempest. She knows she can't climb fast enough, but leaps and springboards off the ropes. She grabs the wrung of the ladder that's across from him and swings, raising her feet to kick him square in the face and off the ladder. She looks up and realizes she's close, so she starts to climb. Suddenly Gavin jumps the ropes and climbs far enough to grab her foot. She struggles but can't get free. Then she smiles and dives through the rungs of the ladder. Gavin's arm is yanked nearly out of its socket, but Tempest grabs a lower rung before hitting the ground and flips over holding on to it. She climbs higher and looks down to see Gavin recovering. But before he can get going again, she slips through the rungs of the ladder and kicks him in the already weakened shoulder. He screams and falls backward, smashing through the last table set up between the rings. Tempest resumes her climb to the cheers of the fans. Nearing the top, the ladder bobbles. She looks down to see Solomon is up and has his hands on the ladder. With a cold smirk, he shoves the ladder and it topples. Kyle’s injured leg gets caught in the ladder rung again, and he screams in pain on the ground.] Jeff: Solomon isn’t having a good day is he? Tim: 10 minutes!
POINT UPDATE: [Zakin is in the other ring now, and tries to lariat Blackjack, but Blackjack ducks. Blackjack has Zakin in a belly to back position and tries to German suplex Zakin. Zakin is able to flip at just the right moment and avoid the deadly move. Zakin charges at Blackjack, who sends him flying over the top with a back body drop. Zakin grabs onto the ropes in midair and prevents himself from falling. Zakin’smid-back hits the apron hard and we can see the pain in Zakin’ face. Zakin basically does a backflip using the ropes to get back into the ring. Zakin tries to Shadow Kick Blackjack, but he ducks. Zakin quickly turns and nails Blackjack with a knee to the face. Zakin runs towards the turnbuckle and springboards off them. Blackjack is bent over and is caught with a massive Insider Drop. The impact is heard throughout the arena and the crowd goes nuts. Zakin quickly turns Blackjack on his back. He applies a dragon sleeper and then turns Blackjack on his stomach with the dragon sleeper still applied!] Tim: Is Blackjack going to tap? Jeff: I don’t know! Why don’t you ask him? Dammit... so stupid... Tim: Wha?! Jeff: HEY! LOOK! [Silky Palms comes running down from the aisle dressed in black jeans, boots, and a red and black "Pimp" baseball jersey that says "Silky" on the back. He runs in and attacks Zakin. Tempest in the meantime, hit a modified rana for a pin on Gavin. She’s up 6 points above the rest. Solomon is once again trying to climb the ladder to end the match.] Tim: What the hell is Silky Palms doing out here? Jeff: HELPING BLACKJACK! [Blackjack and Silky both run to the ladder and try to hit Solomon off of it. Solomon kicks down Blackjack, and Silky bounces off the ropes to try and knock Solomon off the ladder again. Instead of knocking Solomon off, Silky hits the ladder and allow Solomon to jump up and grab the Smackdown Title! Tempest looks up after pinning Gavin to see Kyle falling off the ladder with the title in his hands.] Tim: KYLE SOLOMON HAS WON BACK THE SMACKDOWN TITLE! Jeff: AND IT’S THANKS TO SILKY PALMS! [Silky and Blackjack’s eyes are wide open, and they begin to stomp outside of the ring, yelling at Solomon. Tempest is kneeled down in the ring after realizing that she had more points than anyone and still lost. Zakin is out after the attack from Silky, and Gavin is rubbing his neck after the modified rana from Tempest. “High Voltage” by Linkin Park hits the speakers.] Tim: What the hell happened?
POINT BREAKDOWN: Jeff: Tempest had the most points! But Solomon got the title! It doesn’t matter! [Jeff starts grinning.] Tim: Now, folks... For those of you who remember, Michael Trey was attacked in the back earlier tonight. Jeff, you have an update on that right? Jeff: Yeah... HWF Superstar Michael Trey was attacked it seems by someone wearing brass knuckles and then after he being knocked unconscious his arms and chest seemed to have been carved by what seems to be a exacto knife. No preeminent damage, Trey says he’ll be able to wrestle, against doctor’s orders. Tim: Thank you Jeff, especially for not adding in any smart-ass comments. Jeff: No problemo... jackhole... [We cut once again to the parking lot, where the same officer from before is talking to Lance. Both are laughing like a couple of hyenas. The officer hands Sterling a small, shiny black cube, which used to be Jonathan Storm's jeep.] Officer: There you go, Lance. Sterling: Thanks.. thanks a lot. Let's see how that scumfuck likes THESE apples. Once I get done with him tonight, I'll stuff his dead carcass into this little black cube and kick it into the damn river! That'll teach him! [Both continue to laugh as we return to ringside] Tim: Oh, god.. he had Storm's car CRUSHED into that tiny cube! And you know what else? I don't even think that cop was a cop! Jeff [laughing like.. a moron]: Yes he did! Tim: And you AGREE with him? Jeff: Of course. Tim: Oh, the wonders of being a member of the LSFC. Jeff: You damn right. The Lance Sterling Fan Club rules! Tim: Oh brother... Let's get on with the show please... [The sound of wind is heard followed by the sound of a guitar. The lights dim to a dull red color, the color of dried blood. A chill runs through crowd as a single flame appears in the center of the stage. As "Symphony of the Stalker" picks up, the flame grows and grows. Suddenly as the song picks up fully, the stage explodes in gray and black pyrotechnics. As the smoke clears, the flame remains on the stage as Night Stalker, clad in a black trenchcoat and black sunglasses, walks out. He walks to the flame and blows it out then walks down the ramp. Stalker climbs the ring steps and enters the ring. He walks to the far corner and leans against it, waiting for his opponents.] Nigel Rolston: Introducing first, from Hell's Kitchen New York... This is the man known as NIIIIIGHT STAAAAAALKEEEER!! Jeff: I'm still kind of confused as to why Night Stalker is in this match. Tim: I figured you would be... Jeff: Hey!! [Suddenly, from the entrance way, comes Shawn Collins - dragging Tempest behind him in cuffs. A few seucrity guards follow as well, along with Davison who is held back by the guards.] Jeff: What the hell is this!?! [Collins brings Tempest down to the ring, as a small cage slowly gets lowered down right next to the ring. The fans are shocked, as Collins manhandles Tempest, who still looks battered fro mthe Smackdown! Title Match, and throws her into the cage and slams the door shut. He starts to wrap a chain around the door, as guards continue to struggle holding Davison back.] Tim: I have no clue what Collins in doing... Jeff: I do... He's making Tempest an HWF cage dancer!! Tim: Jeff, please... Jeff: DANCE BABY!! SHAKE IT FAST!! WATCH YO-SELF!! Tim: Jesus Christ... [Collins finishes the chain job, and then orders the technicians to lift the cage back up. They do so, until Tempest and the cage are a good 3 feet above the ring ropes on the side of the ring with the rampway. Collins smirks up at Tempest and then pulls a mic out of his pocket. He begins tapping on it to test if it's on, as Davison now settles down a little.] Shawn Collins: *tap tap* Um... This thing on? [Collins is met with a mixed reaction, as he continues, yelling at some fans.] Shawn Collins: I don't care, I don't care what she wants... I'm the Commissioner!! [Collins settles down a little, and then addresses the entire crowd.] Shawn Collins: Well, seeing how there's a big argument over who Tempest should escort to the ring each and every week, I have devised the following stipulation to this upcoming match... As you can see, Tempest is suspended about fifteen feet in the air in her own little cage. The way we'll decide a winner in this match is this: [Pause, as Collins gathers himself.] Shawn Collins: Whoever can get to Tempest first; be it Night Stalker, Chris Davison, or Silky Palms; and plant a big wet one on her... [The crowd begins laughing a cheering, as Tempest looks appaled.] Shawn Collins: ...that's right. Whoever can plant a kiss on Tempest, will not only win the match, but also win the services of her as a valet. [The crowd cheers again, as Davison gets a pissed off look on his face.] Shawn Collins: Las Vegas... Introducing the Kiss The Bride Match!! [Small pop from the fans, as Collins starts walking to the back, still guarded by security. Davison looks torn at where to go - after Collins or after Stalker. He eventually decides to slide in the ring, while looking up at Tempest and yelling something out to her. A few technicians run from the back with a 12 foot ladder and set it down against the front apron.] Jeff: What an announcement by The Commish!! Tim: This is sure to be one interesting match now... Jeff: Yeah.. And let the aciton begin... Here comes Silk!! [Davison and Stalker pace back and forth in the ring, eyeing eachother, waiting for Silky's arrival. "Sir Psycho Sexy" hits the PA, and Davison and Stalker freeze and stare at the enterance, watching... waiting...] Jeff: It's... it's.... SILKY! Tim: Um... is it? [Stalker and Davison look at each other, then begin scanning the area surrounding the ring, waiting for a sneak-attack.... Silky's music stops and restarts, and everyone looks up to the top of the ramp again, but he still is nowhere to be seen.] Jeff: Um... maybe he's not done getting changed yet? Time: Maybe not... Or maybe he forgot... he's scheduled to be in this match! [Davison, still furious, stares up at the ramp... as Stalker rushes in and crushes him with a double axe handle!] Tim: Well, this match is underway now, with or without Silky!
 Chris Davison vs. Night Stalker [Stalker begins beating down on Davison. The fans begin to murmur, and turn towards the top of the ramp. In the dark, a figure can be seen emerging from the curtains leading to the back. It moves forward, and appears to hold something in it's hand. A spotlight slowly moves to the stage, and we now see a man, standing well over 6 feet tall. He's wearing a pair of black jeans, a red t-shirt, some sunglasses, and covering him is a long black trenchcoat. He has shoulder length brown, and is holding the familiar black steel chair in his hand. He unfolds the chair, and takes a seat right above the ramp, staring into the ring. The fans seem puzzled as to his presence, while he begins to stroke his full brown goatee.] Tim: Wait, who the hell is this guy? [The man at the top of the ramp reaches into his coat pocket, and pulls out a notepad. He flips it open, and turns to a clean page. He reaches back in his pocket, and takes out a pen. He opens the cap, and begins to write something, seemingly taking notes.] Jeff: I have no clue, but it's looks like he's studying these two in the ring... [The man stays at the top of the ramp, as the fighting continues in the ring. Stalker gains the advantage on Davison and throws him into a corner. He starts booting Davison hard in the midsection, and then pulls him out of the corner and into a standing head scissors. Stalker locks Davison around the waist and lifts him up vertical. Stalker lets the blood rush down into Davison's skull for about 30 seconds and then spikes him down to the mat with a piledriver.] Jeff: Nice Stalling Piledriver. Tim: Night Stalker is looking good here tonight, but does he really want Tempest as a valet? Jeff: I dunno... [Stalker picks up Davison and levels him with a few blows to the head. Davison reels back towards the ropes and then runs out at Stalker. Davison ducks a Stalker clothesline and then bounces off the opposite ropes. Stalker tries a backhand, but Davison ducks again. Davison tries a springboard moonsault from the other side of the ring, but Stalker catches him in mid air and drives him down to the mat with a tombstone.] Tim: TOMBSTONE PILEDRIVER!! Jeff: Davison is just getting over-powered right now. [Stalker looks up at Tempest and then slides to the outside of the ring. Davison begins getting up, as Stalker gets his hands on the 12 foot ladder. He brings it over underneath the cage, as Davison slides out to the apron nearest Stalker. Stalker tries to hit him, but is caught with a mule kick from Davison. Stalker drops the ladder and stumbles back, as Davison takes flight. In great form, Davison springs off the second rope with a twisting moonsault. In mid-air, he catches Stalker in DDT and drives him down on the entrance way with a tornado DDT!!] Tim: WHAT A MOVE!! Jeff: That was the most incredible thing I've seen all night!! And that's saying a lot after that Hardcore Title Match!! ["HO-LY-SHIT, HO-LY-SHIT"] Tim: Davison needs to take advantage now!! [Davison is slow to get up, but eventually does. He goes right for the ladder and sets it up directly underneath the cage and starts to climb up for Tempest. Tempest roots him on, as he reaches the halfway point. Stalker starts to get up, as Davison suddenly halts. Stalker turns towards Davison, just as Davison dives off the ladder and flips him to the ground with a flying hurricanrana.] Tim: OH MY GOD!! Jeff: Davison has REALLY come back in this one!! [Davison is quick to his feet, and starts digging underneath the apron. The fans are going nuts, as the man at the top of the entrance way just continues to take notes. Davison doesn't even notice him, as he pulls out a table and sets it up next to the ladder. Davison turns back towards Stalker, but gets low blow'ed in the process. Stalker quickly grabs Davison by the hair and throws him back into the ring. He slides in himself and LEVELS Davison with a running big boot. Davison flips over onto his neck, as Stalker stands over him plotting his next move.] Tim: Man, this one is just back and forth... Both men seem hell-bent on getting Tempest. Jeff: I'm stil wondering where The Sexmachine is... We just saw him!! [Stalker lifts up Davison and signals the cut-throat sign. He proceeds to whip Davison into the corner and locks him in a front chancery as he stumbles out. The fans start to make noise, but Davison quickly turns the hold into a hammerlock. Stalker instincively reaches behind his head for a snapmare, but Davison locks him in an inverted facelock instead. Davison yells something out, and then drops Stalker with an inverted swinging neckbreaker.] Tim: MY GOD!! We haven't seen that one yet... Jeff: That was an impressive looking Inverted Swinging Neckbreaker by Davison. [Davison quickly kips up and points over to the table on the outside. The man at the top of the ramp now takes particular notice, as Davison drags Stalker over to the buckles by the table. Davison lifts up Stalker onto the top rope, and throws his legs over to the outside of the ring. Davison proceeds to hop onto the apron, and starts climbing up the outside apron himself.] Jeff: What's that little guy doing now!?! [Davison hops up to the top rope, where Stalker sits. Davison jumps onto his shoulders and tries to throw him over with a hurricanrana. Stalker doesn't budge though, but still holds on to Davison. Stalker pulls him back into powerbomb position, stands up, and dives off - DRIVING Davison thorugh the table with a super sitdown powerbomb.] Tim: POWERBOMB FROM THE HEAVENS!! POWEROMB FROM THE HEAVENS!! ["H-W-F, H-W-F, H-W-F, H-W-F"] Jeff: Davison is dead, he's just DEAD!! [The man at the top of the ramp chuckles, and adamantly writes on his notes as Stalker slowly pulls himself up to a standing base. Stalker stomps Davison's motionless body and then grabs onto the ladder. Tempest starts furiously trying to break free. Stalker reaches near the top of the ladder, when Tempest begins swinging the cage back and forth. The fans cheer in anticipation, as Stalker tries to grab the swinging steel.] Tim: What is Tempest doing!?! Jeff: Yeah, what is that crazy bit- Tim: JEFF!! [Tempest has the cage swinging about 8 feet in each direction. Suddenly, the cable holding the cage SNAPS and the cage with Tempest flies into the ring and LANDS hard - doorside down. Tempest looks completely knocked out, as Stalker just startes over at her. The fans start chanting again, as Stalker begins descending the ladder.] Jeff: HOLY SHIT, DUDE!! ["HO-LY-SHIT, HO-LY-SHIT"] Tim: Tempest just snapped that cable holding the cage!! Jeff: Well, DUH! And she knocked herself out cold in the process. [Stalker gets to the bottom of the ladder, and then hops into the ring. He goes right for Tempest, but he can't reach her through the bars of the cage. Stalker becomes irrate, and starts tugging on the chain, which is pinned between the cage and the mat. Davison now struggles into the ring, as Stalker amazingly yanks the chain right off of the cage. Tempest still look knocked out, as Stalker drops the chain behind him - and right into the arms of Davison. Stalker continues fiddling with the cage, as Davison wraps the chain around his hand. Stalker almost has the cage turned over, when he gets BLASTED in the back of the head with Davison's chain-wrapped fist.] Tim: OH, DAMN!! Jeff: I dunno if that was a smart move, I doubt Davison could even lift that cage up himself... [Davison drops the chain in the middle of the ring, and then lifts Night Stalker back to his feet. Davison locks Stalker in suplex position and then lifts him up into the air. He stalls the big man for a few seconds and then drives him down into the mat with a brainbuster.] Tim: LETHAL INJECTION!! [Davison gains his breath and then goes to the cage. He tests the thickness of the bars and then goes back to Stalker. He grabs Stalker by the hair, and brings him on top of the small cage. Davison bend Stalker over and double underhooks him from the front, while standing away from him. Stalker tries to get free, but Davisondrops to his knees - dropping Stalker face first on the metal bars.] Tim & Jeff: OH MY GOD!! [The impact of the move, actually flips the cage over, as Davison and Stalker both get sent through the bottom and middle ropes.] Tim: Stalker just got hit with The Backlash!! Jeff: All Davison has to do is kiss Tempest... which mey be his biggest challenge because the word in the back is that he's a little... y'know... Tim: Stupid. Jeff: No, I was gonna say gay. Tim: No, I meant you wer- Jeff: I know what you meant, and it's alright. There are classes for homophobia. Tim: HOMOPHOBIA!?! [Davison crawls into the ring and slowly heads towards Tempest, who is sitll knocked out. Suddenly, Silky Palms, still in street clothes, dives into the ring with a fire extinguisher. Davison has Tempest in his reach, when Palms blasts Davison right in the back of the head with the extinguisher. Davison collapses on impact, and Silky throws him out of the ring.] Jeff: SILKY PALMS IS HERE!! HE'S HERE!! [The man at the top of the ramp watches on, as Silky proceeds to blow Tempest a kiss and then spray her unconcious body with the extinguisher.] Jeff: Yeah, get 'em Silk!! Tim: Are you kidding me!?! He can't join the match now... [Silky finishes his spray job and then throws the fire extinguisher to the outside of the ring, by Davison. Stalker now struggles into the ring, as Silky exits it and makes his way through the crowd.] Tim: Palms just pulled a deadly hit and run... Jeff: And it looks like Stalker has this one in the bag now. [Stalker gets to his feet, as Tempest now regains conciousness from the extinguisher attack. She slowly gets to her feet as Stalker goes in for the kiss. Suddenly, Tempest plants a low blow on Stalker - who doubles over.] Jeff: Aw, c'mon... Let him kiss ya!! [Tempest gains some life and whips Stalker to the ropes. She leap frogs him on the way back, and then goes for a back body drop. Stalker puts the breaks on, however, and drops her rudely with an impant evenflow DDT.] Tim: LIGHT OF DAWN!! [Stalker quickly rolls Tempest over and gives her a kiss of the cheek. The bell rings, as Stalker slowly gets to his feet.] Tim: Stalker won it!! Jeff: *laughing* Tempest has to escort Stalker from now on!! That's great!! [As if finished with his job, the man at the entrance way stands up, places the notepad and the pen back in his pocket, and turns his back to the ring. He grabs the chair, and simply walks off into the back. Stalker's theme begins to play, as he starts of to the back. A ring attendant now helps Davison back up, as Davion watches a replay of the action on the Extream Screen.] Jeff: Oh, this is the best part!! [At the sight of the Light of Dawn, and the kiss, Davison pounds his fist on the mat. He then watches as Stalker leaves, while checking on Tempest. Technicians begin running out to clean everything up.] Tim: What an exciting night so far. Jeff: And it's nowhere NEAR over yet... Seeing how Michael Trey is about to get his ass handed to him. Tim: Well, that's gonna be harder done than sad in the Hell on Earth Match. Jeff: What are the stips for this match anyway? Tim: Well, I'm glad you ask... Here's what's on my format sheet... This match takes place in an abandoned church, with the competitors fighting inside. After fifteen minutes, the entire building is set on fire trapping the competitors in a firey prison. There are no pinfalls and no submissions. The only way for this match to end is for one person to leave the building, forfeitting the match. The winner is the last person left in the building. Jeff: Man, that's insane!! Tim: I know, so let's cut to location. We have procured a nearby abandoned church just outside Las Vegas city limits, which is only a 10 minute helicopter ride away from the arena. Both competitors have arrived and should be entering the church from opposite ends soon... [The television image cuts to a sweeping view of the outside parking lots of the church. It is a compact, two level building with a flat roof. In front, there is an expansive parking lot that is empty at the moment. A shelter extends out to the sidewalk at the front doors, which are set many feet away from the curb. These four large doors are open, allowing a view inside; a reception desk is at the front, a hallway runs to the left, and to the right lies the actual sanctuary. The view swings to the back of the building, which has a wide spread of flat, green grassy area and a smaller paved lot. There are two doors which lead into the hallways mentioned earlier.] Tim: That... is the old building for United New Lutheran Church of Nevada. They've since left the area, but left the building for sale at a cheap rate. So the HWF snapped it up and it has been outfitted to be lit on fire from the arena by remote transmission. Jeff: Doesn't matter, I'm willing to bet that Trey will walk in before the fire even starts... fuckin' crybaby ho. Tim: Yeah, I'd almost bet that he'll do that. Jeff: He will... besides, no matter what, I'm not going to be happy... if Trey gets stuck in the inferno, that probably means that Phoenix quit and lost. But I know Phoenix... he'll outlast Michael. Besides, Trey alright is banged up pretty bad from the attack earlier tonight. [We cut back to the church. Now the scene is dark, only illuminated by the light streaming from inside the church and from assorted parking lights. The screen splits in half. The left side shows Michael, striding towards the front doors while an HWF 'copter takes off to leave behind him. His face is badly bruised and still a little bloody from the earlier attack, but bandages hide the superficial damage for the most part. On the right side, the screen is following Phoenix, as he walks across the back parking lot, where another helicopter is leaving. Back in the Las Vegas arena, the bell rings to signal the start of the match.] [T-Minus 15:00]
 Michael Trey vs. Phoenix Tim: And this match is underway... Jeff: The two men have to find each other first. [As each man enters the building, we cut back and forth to the numerous cameras the HWF has installed in the church hallways and chambers. Only a couple cameramen are in the building and they are both in the sanctuary: one in the front and one in the balcony. Michael and Phoenix both curve into the back hallways. On the left half of the screen, Michael slowly and silently opens each door, mostly running into empty Sunday School rooms. On the right half, Phoenix is sprinting through the hallways in an attempt to find Michael ASAP.] Jeff: Shouldn't be long... Phoenix is on the fuckin' warpath I think. Tim: I'm not so sure whether that's ambition or just a lack of experience compared to Michael. Jeff: Trust me, Michael better get his ass in gear. [Back on the left, Michael enters a storage room. He clicks on the light and sees many stacks of thin mattresses. He smiles and shuts the light off again, leaving the door open a crack.] Jeff: What the hell is that pyro-ho doing?! Tim: I dunno. [Phoenix sprints down more hallways, grabbing a broom that is standing in a corner on his way. As he rounds a corner, the hallway is recognizable as the one Michael was just in. Phoenix blows by the door, and the rush of air makes it creak open. Phoenix stops and spins back.] Jeff: No... PHOENIX! [Phoenix is unaware of Jeff's warning, opening the door slowly. He flips the switch, the room once again bathed in light. At this moment, Michael leaps forward, holding several mattresses. He knocks Phoenix back through the door and smacks him against the wall of the corridor. The mattresses drop as Phoenix reaches to cradle his head. Michael uppercuts him hard and grabs his head, leading him back through the halls. The view now reforms as one screen of both men. Michael slams Phoenix against the walls from time to time until they reach the main entrance lobby. Trey grabs a dilapidated computer monitor and whips it at Phoenix's head, but Phoenix sidesteps it and grabs a vase from the desk, slamming it right onto Michael's skull. Trey's eyes roll up into his head a little, but he quickly regains equilibrium.] Tim: Slow start but both men are getting it going now... Jeff: Don't worry... don't worry.... the right man will win. Tim: What? Jeff: Bisc Li told me not to worry... Tim: Ah fuck. [T-Minus 12:00] [Phoenix grabs Michael's long black hair and swings him around, dragging Trey into the sanctuary. Phoenix tosses Michael onto the floor in an aisle. Phoenix pauses and checks out what he's dealing with. He spots a few metal folding chairs that are leaning against the back wall. He quickly snags one and pulls it up. As 'Nix turns, Michael is right there, superkicking the chair back into his face. The chair drops and Phoenix stumbles to his right, around a column supporting the balcony above them. Michael picks the chair up and stalks him, slamming the steel hard onto Phoenix's back, who drops to his knees.] Tim: Take him to the woodshed, Michael! Jeff: Ok... JR.... *rolls eyes* Tim: I hate you, Jeff... I hate you... so very... very much. [Trey drops the chair and grabs a metal acolyte's lighter from it's hook. For those who haven't seen them, they are about 3 feet long, gold-colored metal rods that are used to light candles. Michael grabs one and spins; Phoenix has just gotten to his feet. Trey swings the rod baseball style at 'Nix's head, but Phoenix grabs it with two hands. They grapple over the rod and finally Phoenix pushes Trey backwards, right into a colored glass window. This stuns Michael for a moment and Phoenix slams the rod down onto Trey's shoulder. It shatters the moment it hits, leaving bits on and in Michael. Phoenix drops the lighter and grabs Michael in a powerbomb position. He lifts Trey up, spins, and runs right back towards the aisle on the left side of the sanctuary, farthest from where they originally entered. As he nears the front part of the church, where the pulpit is, he releases Michael and sends him flying through the small railing.] [T-Minus 10:00] Tim: Come on Trey! Get back up! Jeff: It's pointless... Bisc Li assured me... Tim: Bisc Li doesn't know how to operate small motor vehicles, let alone how to help Phoenix right now. Jeff: Oh really? Then... then... what is he doing right NOW?! [Jeff points to the Extream Screen, which cuts to some backstage action in the arena! In the parking lot of the Las Vegas arena, one of the helicopters lands after dropping the wrestlers off. From behind the camera, three people run out to the copter and hop in. The cameraman follows them and hops on board too. One man who is dressed in total fireman's garb moves towards the pilot's chair and kicks the pilot out. The other two are Bisc Li and Claire Matthews. They sit down in the passenger area and wait for the aircraft to lift off. Some groaning and grinding of mechanical parts interrupts. It sounds horrible, and Bisc Li climbs into the co-pilot's chair to check.] Bisc Li: You know how to run this muthafuckin' thing, right?! [The fireman turns his face and reveals... SHAWN COLLINS!] Shawn Collins: Hell yeah, I learned it from playing The Sims.... FUCK NO, I can't fly a damn helicopter! Bisc Li: It's just fuckin' lift, drag, and yaw, muthafucka.... Shawn Collins: Well, whore, I'd read the manual but the thing isn't even in English... it's in whorehouse Thai! Bisc Li: YOU CAN SPEAK WHOREHOUSE THAI, BIATCH! Shawn Collins: I can scream the shit.... doesn't mean I can read it! Bisc Li: Fujifoo! Fujifoo! Now just get us off... THE GROUND! And quick... or you'll get the white mist in the eye. Shawn Collins: All right... here goes... [Collins yanks a few levers and twists a dial. Finally, he gets the machine purring and starts to take off.] Tim: WHAT ARE THEY DOING?! Jeff: Like Bisc said... the best man WILL win this match... Tim: CHEATING BASTARDS! [Bisc climbs back into the passenger compartment with Claire and pulls a small electronic device out of his pocket. As the copter lifts off, Bisc yanks a small electronic device from his pocket and mashes a red button down. The scene cuts back to the sanctuary of the church. Michael and Phoenix are brawling in the first few rows of pews. At the front, a long banner about 40 feet tall hangs. The bottom corner sparks and suddenly the entire banner flames up!] Tim: He lit the church early?! Jeff: Why not? Tim: BECAUSE THAT'S NOT FAIR! Jeff: Whiner. Tim: ... I'm gonna BITCH SMACK YOU. [Meanwhile, Phoenix cracks Michael across the face with a hymnal. Trey staggers back into the aisle, but Phoenix follows and grabs him in a front facelock. 'Nix lifts Trey up for a front suplex, turns toward the center rows of pews, and drops Trey down in a front suplex. However, it is lined up perfectly, crotching Michael on the second row. Phoenix hops up, running down the third pew. He turns once he reaches the other end and runs back, grabbing Michael in a bulldog. He viciously slams Trey onto the floor.] Jeff: NICE MOVE! Tim: Not half bad. Jeff: THE FUTURE OF HARDCORE, right there buddy! Tim: He's not the damn future of hardcore! Jeff: You're in denial. It's OK. [Phoenix turns Michael onto his back and tries to mount him in a Lou Thesz type position. Michael pushes him off, however, and gets to his feet. Phoenix angrily attacks, but Trey reflexively grabs Phoenix's arms and nails a Flash of Pain double armed DDT!] Tim: FLASH OF PAIN!! [Phoenix rolls around a bit, his hands to his face. Michael staggers to his feet momentarily and grabs Phoenix. They walk to the back and find a winding stairwell that leads to the balcony. Meanwhile, the entire front of the sanctuary is in flames and it is now spreading along the sides of this section of the building. The two men emerge in the balcony, battling punch for punch. Michael backs Phoenix against another colored glass window. Trey tries to jab at Phoenix but misses. 'Nix uses Trey's momentum by grabbing his arm, slamming Michael face first into the glass. Trey whips an elbow back behind him in self defense, but Phoenix just steps back, out of the way.] Jeff: GO PHOENIX! Tim: That glass has to hurt... [Michael kicks behind him, nailing Phoenix in the gut. He doubles over and Michael quickly grabs him, spitting glass from his cut up mouth. Trey turns and whips Phoenix viciously down the aisle of stairs that leads through the balcony. Phoenix rolls, thumping hard on each step, until he hits the barrier at the edge of the balcony. Michael, still at the top, grabs a rope used to close off the balcony. He drags it down to where Phoenix landed and wraps it tight around 'Nix's throat, screaming loudly.] Michael: YOU HEAR THIS, YOU INSANE ASSHOLE?! YOU HEAR ME THIS TIME?! Phoenix [choked]: Yea... yeah... Michael: I TOLD YOU BEFORE.... I will fucking BREAK you if you think you can just get rid of me! Phoenix [choked]: I... I... [Michael tightens the rope, Phoenix nearly blue. Trey speaks as he moves closer to the damaged railing, threatening to push Phoenix over to the floor, still hanging by the rope.] Michael: What is it?! Phoenix [choked]: I.... do... don't.... think so... [On those last words, Phoenix kicks Michael in the groin. This loosens the rope grip instantly. Phoenix grabs Michael by the jeans and throws him over and through the railing! Michael falls through the air and lands back first onto a music mixing board for the church sound system! The table holding the system up crumbles and Michael sits, rolling and holding his back. Phoenix smiles down at Trey evily and turns to face away.] Jeff: Do it... do it Phoenix! Tim: NO PHOENIX!!! ['Nix pauses for only a second.] Phoenix: LIGHTS OUT!!! [No lights go out, but Phoenix dives back in an awkward moonsault, landing on Michael very poorly but still hitting him hard. The crunch of Michael's body and the electronic equipment are loud and Phoenix holds his rib as well. They both lie very still for several minutes, until Phoenix rolls to the side and stands, dragging Michael too.] Jeff: THAT IS HARD F'N CORE SHIT, Tim! Tim: That was one fucked up moonsault, is what that was... that... ugh... that was not pretty. [The flames are now starting to fill the church up with smoke and a beam has fallen from the ceiling. Phoenix drags Michael over to the beam and tries to force his face into the flaming wood, but Michael resists, swinging his arms away. Phoenix staggers back and Michael ducks down, sweeping the legs out from under his opponent. Phoenix hits the ground hard and Trey grabs the end of the flaming beam, tipping it right onto Phoenix's face!] Tim: YES! Amazing use of the beam by Trey! Jeff: That is just messed up. Tim: Wait... he's not done... [Trey turns to his left and sees a good stretch of wall. He backs up and in almost Matrix fashion, he runs towards the wall and runs UP it, getting 2 solid steps on it and then pushing off with the third. This push off is enough for him to land on the end of the beam and BUST IT IN HALF over Phoenix's face!!] Jeff: New from Mattel - Matrix Trey. We've seen Dragonball Trey, Superman Trey and now - complete with Trenchcoat and wall climbin' action - it's MATRIX TREY! Tim: INCREDIBLE! Jeff: Goddamn fake martial arts wannabe cheap shot artist hobag... Tim: INCREDIBLE! [Michael clears the wreckage and gets down into Phoenix's face, screaming at him to quit. Phoenix just grins madly, blood pouring down both Michael and Phoenix's faces. The heat and smoke now flow through the entire building and it is becoming a little more difficult to see what is happening. Michael coughs repeatedly but kicks Phoenix along the floor, nailing his busted rib hard and finally stopping back in the main entryway. Michael walks towards a chair and picks it up. Phoenix stands to his feet but ducks the incoming chair, thrown right at his chest. Phoenix dropkicks Trey to the floor and chokes him with his foot. 'Nix looks at the walls and manages to grab a painting which is now flaming in the middle. Phoenix bides his time and when Trey gets to his feet, Phoenix slams the painting down on Michael's head, busting a hole straight through! Michael falls to the ground, exhausted. Phoenix tries to stay on his feet, but he too drops from smoke inhalation.] Tim: Both men are DOWN! Jeff: COME ON PHOENIX! MAKE HIM GIVE UP! [Trey is the first to his feet. Michael grabs a busted chair leg from the previously thrown chair. As debris and flames envelop the scene, he uses it to choke the last life out of Phoenix. The only thing that stops him is the sound of a chopper overhead. It's Collins, Bisc Li, and Claire! The copter sets down in the parking lot, and a camera shot shows the huge inferno throwing flames high into the air outside. Bisc and Collins remain in the chopper, but Claire sprints out towards the doors, standing just outside.] Tim: What is that little whore doing?! Jeff: Don't call that wonderful woman that name! Tim: She IS a WHORE! Jeff: Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?! Tim: No, but I kissed your mother with this mouth last night! Jeff: Damnit Tim, that's my line! Tim: Actually, you stole it off Saturday Ni- Jeff: WHAT IS CLAIRE DOING?! [Claire stands near the doorway. A camera view from outside shows that Michael is kneeling, choking the life out of Phoenix right behind the main doors. Claire screams in to Michael.] Claire: MICHAEL! STOP IT! COME OUT! [Trey looks up for only a second, then resumes the deathlock on Phoenix's throat.] Claire: MICHAEL! I changed my mind! I made a MISTAKE! Please, for the love of God, Michael... come out here before you kill yourself and come back to me! [Michael's head whips up again, still holding the bar to Phoenix's throat. A deep longing rises into Trey's eyes... wanting it to be true. He glances down at the unconscious Phoenix, then back at Claire.] Michael: WHY SHOULD I BELIEVE YOU?! Claire: Because... because... because I'm telling the truth! I NEVER STOPPED LOVING YOU... I just made a mistake! [Trey slowly rises to his feet, Phoenix no longer posing a threat. He stares out at Claire, only glancing back at Phoenix a little. Michael moves closer and closer to the door. The fans in the arena scream loudly, some in support of Claire now and others telling Michael not to do it.] Tim: Trey, don't do it! Don't flush this match down the drain for her traps! Jeff: DO IT, GOLDEN BOY! DO IT! Tim: No... please no... Don't buy into this sob act! [Michael inches closer and closer, eventually standing right at the doorway. Smoke billows out from behind him eerily and flames lick up the walls farther back. Phoenix still lies motionless. Claire stretches a hand out, and somehow... some way... in the palm of her hand is the ring Michael gave to her originally. At the sight of this, Trey breaks down completely, only shooting one final glance back at Phoenix before running out to Claire, grabbing her hand. He slides the ring back onto her finger and hugs her tightly.] Tim: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO- Jeff: YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSS- Tim: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! [DING DING DING!] Jeff: PHOENIX WINS! PHOENIX FINALLY PROVED HIMSELF! Tim: No... that's not what happened at all! Jeff: Just admit it for once, damnit! Phoenix bested Trey! [Michael and Claire kiss outside the church. The short kiss breaks and Michael gazes lovingly into Claire's eyes... he is met with a smile that slowly turns into a sneer. Claire knees Michael square in the junk, toppling him to the ground. He tries to get to his knees, but she kicks him in the ribs.] Claire: You pathetic sap... I can't believe you. Michael: Clai- Claire: Shut up, Michael... I'm just doing my job. [Trey gets to his feet slowly. He stares at Claire harshly. She turns to walk away... Michael's eyes gape wide and he tries to say something, but suddenly a HUGE creamy thick wad of white mist spurts onto him, knocking him backwards. Bisc Li comes into the picture, grabbing Claire and dipping her into a huge kiss.] Bisc Li: Wow... it seems like you ate chicken last night babe... [Bisc wipes his mouth and Jeff laughs loudly back in the studio. Bisc Li takes his gaze off of Claire and turns to Michael, who is still staggering and dripping from the thick White Mist.] Bisc Li: Hey Trey! Does THAT taste like Sterling? HAHAHAHA! ...oh and Trey, before you answer yes, just realize... I've got your Woman, I've got your Career, I've got your Friends and I've got your LIFE. When I want to break you, you'll be broken. I'm just havin' fun for the moment.... see ya Treyie-poohs. [Bisc steps aside, revealing Shawn Collins behind him. The Commish, in full fireman's garb, has rigged up a fire hose! After landing, he apparently ran it from the hydrant all the way into the copter and has had it ready and waiting. Michael's mouth gapes wide open as Collins opens the valve FULL FORCE. The water explodes from the hose in a direct line on Michael. Bisc and Claire laugh as Michael is driven back THROUGH the doors to the church and right into the reception desk, knocking it into bits. Collins turns the water off and climbs back into the pilot's chair. Meanwhile, Michael is barely conscious. He turns... and runs right into the momentarily-revived Phoenix! Phoenix delivers a NFL-Type PUNT kick to Trey's SORE Junk. Trey drops to his knees... Phoenix grabs him in a front facelock, before bringing him up again, he then spins around into an inverted facelock. He then lifts Trey up to about 70 degrees and buckles under the immense tiredness delivering a very BOTCHED Into the Ashes at a very violent angle onto the busted receptionist's table!] Jeff: INTO THE ASHES!!! YES! [Phoenix just lies there in the rubble until Claire and Bisc Li run in and grab him. They lift Phoenix up to his feet and drag him out of the building. They help him to the copter and all three climb into it, motioning for Collins to take off quickly.] Tim: NO! They're just going to leave Michael there! [The flames have really started to tear things apart... the building is falling down. Michael is still unconscious from the botched Into The Ashes onto the broken table. More beams and tiles start to fall, making it impossible to see if Michael is still OK. Suddenly, just when it looks like Michael is starting to stir... a huge-ass glass chandelier falls from the high ceiling, partially smashing into Michael’s skull! Glass shatters everywhere!] Jeff: It's the end of Trey as we know it... it's the end of Trey as we know it... Tim: Shut up Jeff! GET SOME EMTs OUT THERE NOW! Jeff: It's the end of Trey as we know it... and I feel FINE! Tim: DAMNIT! NO! [The smoke and flames completely envelop any last view of Michael and the scene fades to black.] Tim: Wait, what just happe- Tim is cut-off, as the cameras sut backstage. Lance Sterling is seen walking up to Jonathan Storm's locker room very casually. This time Sterling is wearing his full ring attire, as its just moments before the main event. He looks around, then places the cube that used to be Storm's jeep directly in front of the locker room. Attached to the cube is a note, which reads simply: "HOPE YOU ENJOY YOUR JEEP..I MEAN CUBE, MOTHERFUCKER!"] Sterling: Won't you be in for a surprise, you stuck up son of a bitch. Hope you like the long walk back to wherever-the-fuck you come from... [Sterling spits on the door to the locker room and quickly runs out of sight, back to his own locker room. The door to Storm's locker room opens, and Storm, also wearing his wrestling attire, walks out. He stops for a second and looks down, seeing both the cube and the note] Storm: ...WHAT THE FUCK?!?! [Cut back to ringside] Jeff: Looks like HE got a nice surprise didn't he? Thanks to Sterling-Clause. Tim: Sterling-Clause? You have problems. That was SICK. Storm's going to be itching for some revenge now. Jeff: Too bad he won't get it! Tim: Well, we're about to find out; that match is NEXT! [The lights go black through the arena, and only strobes light the way. As the opening sounds of guitar chords plow through, the fans jeer, knowing what happens next.]
There's no money [BAM!! Two straight shots of pyro shoot straight up as Jonathan Storm walks out to the ring! With a smirk on his face and his new "Define" t-shirt on, Storm walks out and rolls into the ring, ready for battle.] Tim: Finally, the main event at hand!! Nigel Rolston: It is now time for our MAIN EVENT!! [Pop from the crowd.] Nigel Rolston: ...Introducing first, for this Pyramid Match... It's Pop Perfection... JONATHAAAAAN STOOOOOOOORM!! [The crowd cheers, as some laugh at what just happened in the back.] Jeff: Man, that was great... I'd be hell-a-pissed if I were Jon Storm right now, though. Tim: Well, I'm sure he is... [The opening to Debonaire's "Dope" plays over the speakers, and the arena lights begin to flash with the "cosmic lighting" (all different colored strobe lights) as the beat starts to kick in. The crowd literally erupts with cheers. Very slowly, Lance Sterling steps out and stands at the top of the entrance ramp. His stunning physique shimmers eerily under the lighting, his wet hair slicked back behind his head. He wears simple black trunks with gold lightning bolts, black kneepads and boots, and white wristbands. He slowly walks down the aisle and climbs up the stairs that lead to the ring. He climbs in and raises both arms in the air as both music and lighting end.] Nigel Rolston: Introducing next, the challnger for the World Title... Two-time HWF Tag Team Champion, and Three-time former HWF World Champion... He is the Greatest... LAAAAAANCE STEEEEEERLIIIIING!! Jeff: And there's our next World Champion!! Tim: Of course you'd say that... Jeff: Well, it's the truth... I predicted the win in that Hardcore Title Match. Tim: That you did Jeff... Jeff: I should start my own 1-900 number. Tim: Ugh.. too easy. [Before anything else happens, Storm runs across the ring and spears Sterling to the ground. The two start brawling as the referee signals for the bell.] Jeff: They're starting, even before Rykopathe gets out here...
 J. Simon Rykopathec vs. Lance Sterling vs. Jonathan Storm [Storm levels Sterling a few times and then lifts him up into the corner. With rage, Storm lays in some fierce bodyshots on Sterling. Sterling tries to cover up, and eventually turns Storm around in the corner. Sterling now starts unloading with a fury of punches and chops. Just as he's finished, you hear "'CAUSE I'M ONE STEP CLOSER..." ... With that, "One Step Closer" by Linkin Park erupts through the speakers, as J. Simon Rykopathe emerges from the back, walking to the ring. Rykopathe has his belt draped over his shoulder, and he throws it to a ring attendant before going to dig underneath the apron.] Jeff: *sarcastic* J. Simon Rykopathe, so good of you to finally join us... Tim: Why don't you say that to his face? Jeff: I will!! [Rykopathe glares over at Jeff, and Jeff points at Tim.] Tim: HEY!! [Inside of the ring, Sterling whips Storm to the opposite turnbuckle. Storm lfies into the buckles hard, and reels out towards Lance. Lance goes for a standing side kick, but Storm sidesteps it. Sterling turns around, only to be kicked in the abdomen and bent into a standing head scissors. Storm lifts up Sterling, and drops him hard with a cradle piledriver. Suddenly, the crowd erupts as Rykopathe comes out from the apron with a 8 foot steel ladder.] Tim: Nicely executed Cradle Piledriver by Jonathan Storm. Jeff: Who cares about the Piledriver? .. It's all about the ladder, baby!! Tim: I despise you... [Rykopathe climbs onto the apron with the ladde,r not really making any moves. Storm looks as if for a pin, but has second thoughts. Instead, he lifts up Sterling to his feet and backs him to the ropes. Storm wrings out Sterling's right arm a couple times, and then whips him to the ropes. Sterling reverses, and sends Storm into the cables. Storm bounces back, and ducks a leapfrog. As Storm bounces Back, Sterling catches him underneath his arm and drops him over his head with a modified olympic slam.] Jeff: BOX OFFICE SMASH!! [Sterling looks down at Storm, and then bounces off the opposite ropes as Rykopathe is by. Suddenly, a ladder flies into the shot from Rykopathe, knocking Sterling to the mat hard. Sterling clutches his head, as Storm slowly rises to his feet to start stomping on him. Rykopathe enters the ring now, and takes a seat on the top turnbuckle. Storm manhandles Sterling to his feet and throws him into a neutral corner. Storm proceeds to pick up the ladder and starts slamming it into Lance's sturnum.] Jeff: Foul play there by Rykopathe. Tim: How was it foul!?! This match is no DQ, and all three men are in it. Jeff: It's foul because he's foul... Tim: *sarcastic* Yeah, that made sense. [Storm stops slamming the ladder into him, and leans it up against him vertically in the corner. Storm backs up a little, and then dropkicks the ladder right into Sterling's face. To make matters worse, Sterling falls forward and lands on the ladder. The crowd groans a little, as Sterling bounces off the steel and onto the ring mat. Storm quickly dives in and goes for a pin.] Tim: He could have him here... [One... ...Two... ...Th.. KICKOUT!!] Jeff: No way. [Storm grabs Sterling by the hair and hoists him up to his feet. He tries to lock Sterling in his Pop Perfection (franchiser) but Sterling plants a questionably low kick. The fans cheer a little, as Sterling breaks free and bounces off the back ropes. Storm tries to get his hands up, but Sterling drives him down to the mat with a high knee. Storm quickly gets up, only to have Sterling catch him under the arm. Sterling hops forward a little, and then throws Storm over his head with a bridging northern lights suplex. Sterling tries to pin with the hold.] Jeff: Sterling-Plex!! [One... ...Two... Rykopathe breaks it up!!] Jeff: Dammit Rykopathe!! Why is he even out here!?! Tim: Because he's in the match... Remember, it has those Pyramid Stipulations? Jeff: Oh yeah, who's idea was it to book this? [Sterling quickly gets to his feet and dashes at Rykopathe. Sterling goes for a clothesline, but Rykopathe ducks it. Sterling turns around, but immediately gets planted on the mat with the Cry For Help (Faarooq-style spinebuster). The crowd boo's as Rykopathe steps back and smirks at the crowd. Storm stays down, as Rykopathe leaps out onto the apron and starts climbing up the ropes. Sterling's still down, as Rykopathe dives off the top rope with a HUGE frogsplash. Sterling gets his knees up, however, and Rykopathe gets the wind knocked out of him HARD. Rykopathe's body bounces off of Sterling's knees and flops to the outside of the ring.] Tim & Jeff: OUUUUUUCH!! [Storm slowly begins getting up, along with Sterling.] Tim: Rykopathe couldn't land Vindiction!! Jeff: Of course he couldn't, Lance has 20-20 vision, even when he's knocked out!! Tim: What the hell are you talking about!?! [Storm slowly runs at Sterling for a clothesline, only to be caught for a uranage. The fans cheer for an apparent Attitude Adjuster, but Storm quickly reverses the hold into a front chancery. He forces Sterling into an inverted facelock now, but Sterling immediately pulls him over with a snapmare. Sterling lays a hard boot into Storm's back, and then bounces off the back ropes. Sterling runs over the laying Storm once, and then twice off the other set of ropes. Storm kips up to his feet now, and take Sterling over with a japanese arm drag. Sterling quickly gets up, only to be japanese arm dragged over again. Sterling gets up a third time, but this time block the arm drag. He keeps hold of Storm's arm though, and throws him to the ropes. As Storm bounces off, Sterling LEVELS him with a superkick.] Tim: OH SHIT!! Jeff: HOLLWYWOOD HANGOVER!! PIN HIM LANCE!! Tim: Storm almost got the upperhand on Sterling there in pure wrestling, that can't make Lance happy. [Lance throws the hair out of his eyes, and then hops tp the outside where Rykopathe in. He knocks down the rising Rykopathe with a stiff right hand, and then starts reaching under the apron. After a moment of fiddling under the apron, Sterling comes out with a table.] Tim: Sterling has wood!! Jeff: Yeah, there you go Lance... Take it to him HWF-Style!! [Sterling throws the chair into the ring, and gets up on the apron. He tries to get back into the ring, but is held up by Rykopathe on the outside. Sterling tries to kick free, as Storm gets to his feet in the ring. Storm wastes no time and runs towards the ropes adjacent to Sterling. Storm leaps onto the top rope, and springs off. Storm amazingly delivers a springboard dropkick to Sterling, sending him flying back towards the announce table!!] Tim: INCOMING!! [Sterling crashes through the announce table, as Rykopathe collapses on the outside. Storm drops to the mat in the ring, to take a little breather.] ["H-W-F, H-W-F, H-W-F, H-W-F"] Tim: What a move by Jonathan Storm!! Wouldn't you say, Jeff? [Jeff doesn't answer, as he tries his darndest to help Lance to his feet.] Tim: Why don't you just lick his balls and get it over with!?! [Jeff glares up at Tim.] Jeff: Hey, just becausee I'm not responding doesn't mean I can't hear you!! [Jeff slowly gives up his effort, as Rykopathe steps over and pulls up Sterling with one arm. Looking rather easy, Rykopathe throws Sterling's body back into the ring. Storm has the ladder setup in the corner now, and he begins setting up the table about 5 feet away from the ladder. Sterling struggles to his feet, but gets knocked down again by a spinning clothesline from Storm. Storm quickly follows up by throwing Sterling onto the prone table. Storm quickly hops to the outside and up the turnbuckles near the ladder. Storm doesn't just stop at the top rope though, as he begins walking up the rungs of the 8 footer.] Jeff: Wait, where's he going!?! [Storm gets to the top of the ladder, and signals down towards Sterling. Without hesitation, Storm dives off the top of the ladder with a shooting star press. He AMAZINGLY twists during the shooting star press and DRIVES Sterling through the table.] Jeff: NO!! ["HO-LY-SHIT, HO-LY-SHIT"] Tim: RISING STAR PRESS PUTS STERLING THROUGH THE TABLE!! [Rykopathe begins clapping for the move as the chant continues. Storm lays next to Sterling though - not pinning him. Storm clutches at his right leg, as both men stay down. Rykopathe waits for them to move, but neither man does so. He hasitly runs over to the two and pulls up Sterling to his feet again. Rykopathe hoists Sterling with a gorilla press, but Sterling slips out the backdoor. He pushes Rykopathe against the ropes, and catches him in a gorilla press of his own. The momentum of Rykopathe sends both men backwards though, and Lance ends up dropping Rykopathe over the back ropes and all the way to the arena floor!!] Tim: OH MY GOD!! I don't even know if that was intentional!! Jeff: Of course it was... what are you thinking!?! [Sterling quickly spills out to the floor as well, where he quickly gets up and grabs a steel chair. Storm is now up in the ring, and hobbling around on his leg. Sterling quickly gets into the ring and swings for that bad leg. Storm hops over the first swing, but gets slammed in the leg on the way back. Sterling smiles as Storm drops to the mat HARD. Sterling proceeds to fold the chair over Storm's right kneeand begins stomping the top of it.] Tim: Oh... What a sadistic attack!! [Sterling stomps his leg a good five or six times, and then drops a HARD knee across it. Stelring parades around the ring a bit, only to have Storm force the chair off of his leg. Sterling comes back and stomps on his right leg a little more. Just then, Sterling grabs Storm's right leg and gives the twirling finger signal.] Jeff: Yes!! He's going for the Hollywood and Vine Leglock!! [Sterling steps over Storm's leg and tries to hook his other for a reverse figure four. Storm uses all his strength to trip Sterling, however, senidng Sterling throat-first across the second rope. Sterling flops onto his back, as Storm slowly tries to pull himself up.] Tim: Man, this match has been going back and forth the entire time!! Jeff: No, Lance has been dominating!! I'm sure of it!! [Storm gets to his feet, as Rykopathe rolls into the ring and pulls himself up as well. Both men await Sterling, but Storm slowly walks over and gets him first. Storm grabs sterling's near arm and tries to whip him to the turnbuckle. Sterling, however, reverses the hold and sends Storm in to the buckles HARD. Storm slouches over, breathing heavily, while Sterling gives Rykopathe an evil stare that seems to say "You're next!". Sterling begins to walk towards Storm, but Rykopathe interjects himself. This gives Storm enough time to recuperate. Sterling and Rykopathe get into a shouting argument, and Sterling shoves Rykopathe. Ryko turns away for a second, secretly reaching into his tights and pulling out a chain. He turns around quickly, socking Sterling right in the jaw with the chain. As Sterling falls backwards, Storm is waiting to roll him up.] Tim: Storm with a small package! Jeff: THE CROOK! [One... ...Two... ...THREE!!] Tim: Storm wins!! Storm wins!! Jeff: Bah. He cheated and we all saw it. RYKOPATHE cost Sterling that match, and you know it Tim!
Tim: ....you're right. But it will go down in the record books as a win for Jonathan Storm. But just take a look at Sterling's face! I would NOT want to be J. Simon Rykopathe right now though. [As the bell rings to signal the first fall, the man in the black robe from last week steps out onto the entrance way and surveys the ring.] Tim: Wait, this mystery guy is back again!! Jeff: Maybe he's here to beat up on Sterling too!! It seems like everyone's getting their shots in tonight... Tim: But who is this guy? Jeff: I dunno... Chris Goings!?! [The man remains at the top of the entrance way as Rykopathe drops the chain to the outside, and waits for Sterling to get up. He does so, like a house of fire, and dives at Rykopathe. Sterling spears Rykopathe down to the ground and starts unloading on him with furious rights and lefts. Sterling can only get four or five shots in, when he is pulled up to his feet by Jonathon Storm. Sterling fights Storm off, however, and eventually drops him to the mat with a knee-to-face. Rykopathe rises in the backround, and lifts up Sterling in a fireman's carry as he turns around. Rykopathe yells out to the fans, as he whips Sterling around into a michinoku driver 2.] Jeff: WHAT THE FUCK!?! ICON BOMB!?! Tim: Rykopathe's gonna win it!! He's gonna hold onto his title!! [Rykopathe hooks Sterling's leg, as if for a pin, but releases it as soon as the ref hits the mat. Rykopathe slowly stands up with a sadistic grin, and looks down at Sterling. Storm rises to his feet now, and locks eyes with Rykopathe.] Jeff: NO!! Get out of there Storm!! [Rykopathe points to the corner, where the ladder is still setup. Storm nods, and then climbs to the third-to-top rung. Rykopathe drags Sterling's body over towards the ladder, and then locks him in a wheelbarrow powerbomb. Rykopathe lifts him up for a inverted powerbomb, as Storm flips off the near-top of the ladder and drives Sterling face-down with a flipping guillotine legdrop.] Tim: MY GOD!! ["HO-LY-SHIT, HO-LY-SHIT"] Jeff: Alright, this is getting out of hand!! If anybody can beat two men, it's Lance... But not like this!! [The man i nthe black robe, now, begins striding down to the ring slowly. He reaches the ring, but does not enter, he just stands by the steps. Rykopathe looks for a pin again, but then signals 'no' to the referee. Rykopathe backs up now, as Storm lifts up Sterling to his feet. Rykopathe quickly grabs the steel chair off of the ground, and hops out to the apron, as Storm lifts up and drops sTerling with a running michinoku driver 2.] Tim: There was the Skyrocket!! Jeff: No Rykopathe!! Get down from there!! [Rykopathe reaches the top turnbuckle, and stands up vertical. He takes a long look at the fans, as storm lifts up Sterling to his feet. Storm backs away now, as Rykopathe raises the the chair over his head. In one fluid motion, Rykopathe does a front flip off of the top rope and LEVELS Sterling HARD with the steel chair - causing the seat to actually fly off and lands somewhere in the third row.] Jeff: JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!! ["H-W-F, H-W-F, H-W-F, H-W-F"] Tim: RYKOPATHE JUST HIT THE 'ONE HIT WONDER'!! HE'S GONNA WIN!! [The man in the robe now slides into the ring, behind Storm and Rykopathe. Rykopathe stands up and looks down at the legs and back of the chair. He throws it aside, as Storm tells him to cover Sterling. Storm backs up a little, but is startled when he runs into this man in a robe. The focus turns to the mystery man now, as Rykopathe and storm both watch him carefully. Just then, "Chaos" by Nine Inch Nails starts playing over the speakers, and the crowd is confused.. along with Rykopathe and Storm. Jeff and Tim are equally confused, too.] Tim: What the hell is this gonna be?? [The man pushes Storm away, and Storm gets enraged and swings at him. The man quickly blocks the right hand from Storm and returns one of his own. He follows up with another hard right hand, and Storm staggers backwards then flips out and over the top rope. Rykopathe turns around and is caught with a kick to the gut, followed by a clothesline and HE goes outside the ring.] Tim: Whoever this guy is, he is cleaning house right here tonight! What a save! Jeff: But the question is... who the fuck IS he?!? [Just as Jeff said that, the man stands in the center of the ring, as the music continues to blare throughout the arena. Finally, he undoes the robe he's got on and tosses it off. Revealing it to be...] Tim: OH MY GOD!!! Jeff: It...it's... [He stands there in the center of the ring, fists clenched and staring down Storm and Rykopathe. The crowd is going NUTS as the camera pans up to his face.] Tim: IT'S JAYSON STARR!!! THE HARDCORE HERO IS BACK!!! Jeff: YES!!!! That should even the odds against those two scumbags, Storm and Rykopathe! Tim: This went from being a Pyramid Match, to a Handicap Match.. now its a tag match?!? What ELSE will happen tonight? Jeff: I dunno, but this match has just went from cool to AWESOME!! [Starr helps Sterling up to his feet, as Rykopathe and Storm become enraged on the outside. Rykopathe begins tossing any chair he can find into the ring. Storm dives into the ring now, and spears down Starr. Rykopathe runs in too, but quickly gets knocked down to the ground. Starr and Rykopathe qucikly pop up to their feets to continue the fight. All four men begin to brawl in the center of then ring, as the flashes from the cameras in the arena go crazy!!] Jeff: This is out of control!! Tim: ALL FOUR MEN ARE GIVING THEIR ALL!! [Storm plants a low blow on Starr and then backs him to the ropes. Sterling continues to beat down on Rykopathe, as Storm whips Starr to the other side. Storm goes for another spinning clothesline, but Starr catches him in a full nelson. The fans crescendo into cheers, as Starr lifts up Storm and drives him face-first into his own knee while sitting down himself.] Tim & Jeff: SHATTER STARR!! [The fans pop greatly for this, as Starr pops up to his feet and grabs Storm by the hair. He's about to throw Storm to the outside, when Sterling suddenly enters the shot - and yanks Storm away from Jayson. Starr smirks at him and then nods. Sterling starts yelling something at Storm, as Starr runs at Rykopathe in the corner. Rykopathe reacts quickly, and drop-toe-holds Starr into the middle turnbuckle. Rykopathe continues to beat on Starr, as focus turns over to Sterling and Storm.] Tim: It looks like Lance Sterling wants to re-pay Storm for that defeat earlier tonight. Jeff: YES!! DO IT LANCE!! [Sterling throws Storm into the buckles, as Rykopathe continues to work on Jayson in the opposite corner. Sterling climbs to the second turnbuckle with Storm, and places him on the TOP turnbuckle. Sterling hooks his arm under Storm's, placing his other arm across his back. Sterling lifts Storm off and literally jumps off the turnbuckle, pivoting around 90 degrees and slamming Storm's back against the ring with a SUPER Attitude Adjuster!!] Tim: Oh... my... god. ["HO-LY-SHIT, HO-LY-SHIT"] Jeff: HE DID IT! He killed him! Tim: I.. I'm speechless. That was the most HORRIFIC move I've seen Sterling do, EVER! [Sterling grabs Storm by the hair and whips him to the outside of the ring, where he hits the floor and lays there unconcious. Sterling takes a deep breath, as he walks back to Rykopathe, who is just hammering away on Starr in the corner. Stelring stands about 5 feet behind Rykopathe, and picks up one of the chairs Rykopathe threw into the ring. Rykopathe lifts up Starr in a fireman's carry from the corner, and turns around - only to be jabbed in the face with steel chair from Sterling.] Tim: OUCH!! [Starr slips out the back on Rykopathe, turns him around, and slaps on a standing head scissors. Starr and Sterling meet eyes, as Stelring bounds to the outside and quickly climbs the near ropes. Starr screams out, as he lifts up Rykopathe and holds him in a stalling powerbomb. Sterling finally reaches the top and immediately dives off. Lance catches Rykopathe in a flipping neckbreaker as Starr drives down Rykopathe with a tremendous powerbomb.] Tim: SWEET LORD!! ["H-W-F, H-W-F, H-W-F, H-W-F"] Jeff: That HAS to be it!! PIN HIM LANCE!! [Starr falls off to the side, as Lance slowly crawls over to where Rykopathe landed. Sterling throws a single arm over Rykopathe's chest, as the ref drops down for the pin. The crowd chants along with the count.] [ONE... .....TWO..... .....THREE!!!!!] Tim: HE'S DONE IT, HE'S DONE IT AGAIN!! Jeff: AND I CALLED IT AGAIN!! THIS IS THE GREATEST DAY OF MY LIFE!! [The final bell rings, and the referee hands Lance Sterling the HWF title for a fourth time in his career. The entire arena explodes with cheers, and Sterling slowly rises to his feet. As he does, he raises the belt into the air to another HUGE round of applause.] Tim: HE IS THE HWF'S ONLY FOUR-TIME CHAMPION! Jeff: And he is the greatest once again!!! [Lance Sterling parades around the ring, holding up the HWF title for all to see. He turns around and looks right at his partner and friend, Jayson Starr. The two shake hands and Jayson raises Sterling's hand, the two of them getting a defeaning round of applause and cheers from the crowd. Sterling nods to Jayson, and he climbs out of the ring. Sterling puts the belt around his waist, and his eyes fall on Rykopathe. Sterling lifts Rykopathe to his feet and helps him out of the ring before climbing out himself.] Tim: And what a show of sportsmanship by Lance Sterling! Jeff: Yeah... I wonder what's wrong with him. Tim: What's wrong with him? What the... [Sterling helps Rykopathe slowly up the ramp, finally letting him walk himself. Sterling turns back to face the crowd, and the camera zooms in on his face. Instead of a smile, Sterling's mouth is contorted in a macabre grin. He turns around, removing the HWF title, and bum rushes Rykopathe, striking him in the back of the head with the gold.] Tim: What the hell?!?? WHAT THE HELL IS HE DOING?!? Jeff: I knew it was too odd to be true!
[Sterling drops the HWF title and picks Rykopathe up by his hair. He drops to one knee and gets right in Rykopathe's face.] Sterling: You think that's all? I've only just begun... this is payback, you scum. Not just for taking the HWF title from me, but for everything. You've wanted to see my career end since day one. Now, Rykopathe, I'm going to end YOURS. [Still holding Rykopathe by the hair, Sterling drags him to the edge of the entrane ramp. Below them is nothing but concrete, and maybe a table or three. Sterling sets Rykopathe in a standing headscissors...] Tim: You gotta be kidding me! He wouldn't... he wouldn't powerbomb Rykopathe off the stage, would he? Jeff: He's Lance Sterling! He's capable of ANYTHING! [Sterling raises both arms in the air again.] Sterling [yelling]: RYKOPATHE, ITS GAME OVER! [Sterling lifts Rykopathe up, and takes three steps backwards. With a running start, Sterling stops at the very edge of the ramp, and THROWS Rykopathe down, finishing the powerbomb. There is a loud crash as Rykopathe's body collides with a table, which collapses, as well as the hard concrete.] Tim: GOOD LORD! He might have killed him! He might have just killed Rykopathe!! Jeff: Even I think that's horrible! Tim: Glad to see you HAVE A HEART. Sweet mother of god, I don't know what to say. What a night this has been. Sterling wins the HWF title for a fourth time, a first in HWF history... Jayson Starr made his return..and now this... THIS is just barbaric! We don't know what will happen to Rykopathe! This... this is insane!! Rykopathe might be dead!! Sterling could just have killed this man!!! [Paramedics have now rushed down to tend on Rykopathe. He is put on a sling and fitted with a neck brace, and an ambulance has pulled up, ready to take him to a nearby hospital. The camera focuses in on Sterling's face, illuminated by the red flashing lights from the ambulance. He shows no compassion or remorse, none. He just stares down, sweat dripping down his brow. The camera switches to show the HWF title, still lying on the entryway, and then fades entirely to black. Suddenly, however, the screen hastily cuts back on, as all you see is Vic Williams standing alone against a pitch black background. A red light reflects off his face as he glares straight into the camera. He speaks.] Vic: So you did it, Lance, your the champion once again... This was supposed to be my night, you stole a man's dream, and you have tried battering the life out of an already brutalized man... is this what you envisioned, Sterling? You are not prepared for the journey you are about to take...the line between good and evil has never been so thin... it was a night of Seven, sins that all of us exhaust... and they will plague you... the demons are clawing at the gates, I Have ENTERED...we have entered....we just haven't found eachother in the darkness of the shadows...is this what you saw? [As quickly as the shot cut to Vic Williams, it cuts straight back to black. The screen stays black as the copyright information appears on the bottom of the screen. After this, you see three letters pop up... "P"... "o"... "C"... These letters explode into the form of the number "3"... Everything goes to black now, where it stays indefinately.]
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