January 17th, 2001 ["Clubbed To Death" blasts away while the Commissioner’s Corner opening starts as usual, but as a picture of Commish Shawn Collins comes up, the music comes to a screeching stop and the picture shudders to a freeze frame as well. BOOM! The picture of Collins explodes on your television and flames engulf the picture. The UNKLE Remix of "The World Is Not Enough" takes over, setting a heavy beat with shots of Michael Trey flashing on the screen. A final logo for "Michael Trey's Corner" flies up onto the screen, holds, and fades out. Cut to the studio, where a camera wheels around, shooting the screaming fans in the crowd. As the music hits a peak, Michael steps into the studio and around in front of the desk to greet the audience.] Michael: Welcome ladies and gentlemen to... Michael's Corner! That's right, the FCC finally wised up and got sick of Shawn's ugly Canadian mug gracing televisions each week, so he's been banned from broadcast! [Huge pop from the crowd and lots of laughter. Michael smiles wide and shakes his head.] Michael: Hehehe... no, I'm sorry, that's not quite what happened. Actually, Collins has come down with some flu again or something. I dunno. Anyways, they needed someone to come in and take the Corner this week and Drake chose me. I don't know why... my mind isn't quite on work. [Michael gets a glazed over look in his eyes for a moment; he then shakes the cobwebs out of his head and continues.] Michael: Well, anyway, the show must continue. What kind of guest host would I be if I did a job as bad as Collins?! Although it would take a pretty damn piss-poor effort to be as bad as Collins... that Canadian schmuck is probably at home, coughing like hell and eating Cheerios. I have no sympathy for him. [Michael smiles and hops up and over to the other side of the desk, landing in a turning chair. He spins once and whips his feet up and onto the desk, making himself at home.] Michael: Ah... I could get used to this. [The audience chuckles along with Michael.] Michael: For those of you who aren't in the "know", allow me to tell you about our show tonight. On this edition of "Michael's Corner", we're going to see one of the matches that was cut from Saturday Suicide. Not only that, but you will hear MY picks of the week. But wait, there's more! Due to some hectic schedules, no one was able to come on and be a guest this week; just as well, with our huge match. But I've got another little segment that I prepared, for myself as well as you viewers at home... [Michael pulls a remote control from the desk and holds it momentarily in his hand.] Michael: Now, as you all know... I lost Claire... again. Again... [Pause.] Michael: Yeah... I'll admit it. I screwed up this time. I should have been watching... I shouldn't have spun so fast. And the way she looked at me. I just saw it. She was sure that I was going to save her, until that accident a couple weeks ago. I've got to figure out who is behind all of it, before she gives up on hope... on me. [A few criers in the crowd can be heard; some fat guy blows his nose loudly. Trey wipes his eyes lightly, no tears but almost, before moving on.] Michael: I have investigated and investigated, and investigated, but it is obvious that whoever did this is a total stranger, in hiding, or a goddamn good liar. So I began asking some of the people within HWF, people who know HWF... Who do they think took Claire... and why would that person do it?! I asked wrestlers, friends, the whole deal. After review... it looks like they're about as confused as I am, but at least now I have something to think about besides pure anger. Roll it. [The lights dim in the studio and Michael points the remote towards a large projection screen... seemingly it was a wall, but I guess not. Oh well.]
[The screen goes to black, and then in fades the image of Gavin Coens, walking in the back parking lot on his way into Suicide this past week. We miss the first few seconds where Trey asks the question...] Gavin: Who do I think took your girlfriend? Trey: She's not my girlfriend. Gavin: Whatever Trey, nobody cares... much like your matches. Seriously though? I'd keep your eye on Jack Daddy. Who else could've done it? He's obviously looking for a way to make a serious impact in the HWF. Not everyone is as blessed as I am, and he feels this is the only way to do it. He's been given the label of "King Jobber" and now the only way to shake off that brand is to steal your chick. Trey: She's not my chick either. Gavin: Whatever. Now, back to my theory. If JD could make a name for himself with this big heist then he'd finally be taken seriously and be able to start a fresh career. Just think of it... Jack Daddy, "The Man Who Brought Trey to Tears". It's perfect! Plus, I think he's still pretty pissed off that someone mistook you for him. Poor guy. [Coens grins widely and reaches the door to the arena. He opens it, spins inside and slams the door shut, leaving Trey mildly pissed off. Fade to black.]
[Fade up again, this time on a hospital hallway. The view turns and pushes through a door. We see Jayson Starr, his brother, Chris Starr, Vinny Vile, and Mike Javelin.. otherwise known as The Krew, sitting inside a hospital room. They all're lounging around the hospital bed Jayson's sitting up in. He has from his forehead up heavily bandaged, and his ribs're taped up, all because of what Vic Williams did to him. The sound is cut until fading in as Jayson looks at the camera and addresses it.] Jayson: Personally, Trey.. I haven't a fuckin' clue who yoinked ya girl. But you need to keep ya eye out, jack. As far as you're concerned, EVERYONE's a suspect. From me, to Sterling, to ya brother Joshua, to Chaz, and hell.. even Vinny's dimwitted ass. Vinny: HE.. Jayson: ..da fuck up. [Vinny grits his teeth and shakes his fist at Jayson. Jayson replies by smirking and shaking his middle finger at Vinny. Everyone else laughs.] Vinny: ..bastard. [Jayson smiles, and turns back to the camera.] Jayson: Anyways.. remember what I said Trey. This is a cut-throat business we're in, man. And even though me and Lance're with ya and we make up the most unstoppable mothafuckin' stable in professional wrestlin' HISTORY... I say you trust NO ONE. Not even us. Jayson: Mind you, I'm not saying I DID it... but all I'm sayin' is that you shouldn't let ya guard down, so it's best to put every damn person on ya suspect list. Got it? [Vinny then snaps his fingers.] Vinny: I know who is was!! Mike: Really? Vinny: Yeah!! Jayson: Who? Vinny: Jessie Suicide!!! [Everyone else smacks their foreheads simultaneously and groans.] Vinny: WHAAAT?!?! Chris: Jessie Suicide's dead, stupid. Vinny: He is? Jayson: Yes. [Mike smacks Vinny upside his head.] Mike: You were the one who caused it! [Vinny smiles goofily while rubbing his head.] Vinny: Oh yeah... [Jayson shakes his head.] Jayson: Yo Trey, but like I said.. keep an eye out man. Once I get up outta this punk ass hospital, I'll have ya back one-hundred percent. Until then, good luck. [Jayson sits back on the bed smiling, the scene fading to black once more.]
[The next scene: back hallway, Saturday Suicide. Michael comes walking up to The Original Prankster, JD Brady. We see Michael once again ask JD the same question as everyone else. Brady is leaning against a pop machine and before answering, he kicks behind him, hitting the machine and a can of Coke drops out. He pops it open and takes a long drink before answering.] JD Brady: Who do I think? Hmmm, that's a tough question. I'm not going with the obvious choices. It's somebody who would be twisted, not right in the head, much like I used to be. I know how people like that think. They always do things you would never suspect but as soon as you find out it was them, you say to yourself, 'Oh yeah, I knew he did it,'. [JD takes another long drink and pauses, thinking it over in his head, finally nodding.] JD Brady: And thinking back like that, I can only think of one man in the HWF sick enough to steal a woman, and that is Vic Williams. And I'm not just saying that it get Vic in trouble or anything, but he's just one sick son of a bizkit. The man needs to learn where to draw the line between what you do in the HWF and what you don't and stealing Claire Matthews is just wrong! [JD drains the last of the Coke from the can and tosses it in the trash. He pats Trey on the back as he walks off.]
[Fade up as Rykopathe is getting off a plane for some house show during the week. Trey gets off the plane as well and follows Ryko, yelling to him. Rykopathe turns, dropping his luggage. Trey tentatively asks the question from a distance. Rykopathe looks at Michael increduously.] J. Simon Rykopathe: Man, why should I give a shit about your problems? You should've delt with this when the situation arose. That's just like you Mike, always a procrastinator. Besides, if I even knew who took her, why would I help you? You're on Sterling's side. For all I know, she probably moved out of town and is banging a fireman. Don't look for me to help you in your search, sellout. [Rykopathe grabs his luggage and stomps off away from Michael, leaving him stunned and not very happy.]
[Michael walks into a bar nearby after Suicide is over... and who does he run into but the Wrecking Crew! He sits down and drinks a beer quietly, then turns and talks to the two guys. We fade in on the convo...] Rickey Williams: I think it's that chick, Tempest. I bet she's after the Trey tubesteak, so she got Claire outta the way. I mean, what was all that shit about her comin' to the fed after hearin' what Trey had to say about it? Sounds like fatal attraction to me. She's playin' Chris Davison for an Elmer Fudd while she plays her sick mind games. She must be at least a little out of whack, hell, she wrestled us last week... Wildcat: Well, if that ain't the question that's killin' everybody. Who took Claire? Who had the cajones to take Claire? Well, hoss, I'm thinkin' it's that new guy, the Saint. I mean, fucker shows up, watches a match, and just chuckles to himself the whole time? He's either up to something or he's playin' pocket pool underneath that trenchcoat. I'm thinkin' he's behind the whole thing, stealin' Claire, gettin' a little on the side...problably gonna show his true colors 'fore too long. [Michael orders to two boys a round and sits, watching two locals play pool while he talkes with Wrecking Crew a bit longer before we fade out.]
[Fade in on Teen Angst's locker room. Spike sits in a locker, head against the wall and a towel over his head while Thrilla is lacing up his boots. Trey walks in and sits down on a bench. Both Spike and Thrilla sit up and ask what Trey wants, recieving the question in reply.] Thrilla: Who kidnapped Claire? You're getting kinda desperate for answers aren't you Trey? [Michael shoots him a look that Thrilla doesn't catch.] Thrilla: I find it especially interesting that you're asking me of all people... but you want my opinion Trey? Fine. Phah Q. Dickshine kidnapped Claire. [Michael and Spike both have a "WTF?!" look on their faces.] Thrilla: I have no god damned clue as to who Dickshine is, I don't care as to any motive he may have for kidnapping Claire, I just wanted to say Phah Q. Dickshine a few times on T.V. and mislead your little pyromaniac ass. Don't get me wrong, I do care about Claire's well being. I just don't know who kidnapped her, nor do I give a fuck. So Trey, Phah Q. Dickshine... [Michael pushes a table over, incensced, on his way out. Thrilla looks at Spike, who stares back. Thrilla shrugs as if to say "What?!" as the scene fades.]
[Fade in again. The Canadian Kid, Kyle Corman, is taping up his wrists backstage at a house show, when Michael approaches, calmly reciting the question and recieving the answer...] Corman: Who do I think kidnapped Claire? Well, I think it's pretty obvious, don't you? Sure, you could go and guess who everyone figures it to be, like Collins, Bisc, or whoever. But I believe it's a guy who isn't showing his face much. He's keeping a low profile, making appearances only when it's right. That's a smart thing to do when you've got someone like yourself hunting you down. But this guy is smart, and has power. [Michael nods his head while Corman continues to wrap his wrists, only glancing up to meet eyes with Trey on the next sentence.] Corman: That's why, I think the man is Chaz. [Michael's face is a bit shocked, as if he'd never thought of that.] Corman: You got to look at it this way. The man is the most powerful man in the business. He can do as he pleases whenever he wants and has control of everything. Now as for a motive against you? I don't know, maybe some sort of secret bullshit happened and Chaz is taking it out on ya. He hasn't been seen for awhile, and this is making big big news in the HWF. It's a huge way to get his face back in the picture, and sounds like the work of our owner... but hey, I could be wrong. [Corman smiles and continues to wrap, walking away slowly leaving Trey once again dumbfounded.]
[Fade back in. Jin and Tatsumi, the Warriors of the Rising Sun, are sitting on a bus next to each other... apparently riding from the airport to a house show early this week. Michael comes to the back and sits down across the aisle from them and leans over, asking them what they think about Claire's kidnapping.] Jin: The very idea of such a thing is appalling to me. We come from a country of honesty and honor. I cannot even begin to dream of a man who could do such a thing. Tatsumi: Kokushibyou Sen Fugiri, we live our lives by those words... it means Death before Dishonor. Whoever did this is not a man of honor... and in our country that would make him marked for death. [Michael nods his head and waits for them to say who they think it is... but no answer. He mumbles as he goes back to the front of the bus.]
[We fade in at Michael's home! He walks in and... hot damn, it's Howitzer and Shrapnel, the old team of Espionage!] Howitzer: Whoa, HWF Camera's.... Shrapnel: Why are you here anyway Trey? I thought you said we didn't have to come back after that bullshit booking job that was done when we lost to the fucking STARR JAMMERZ. Fuck, that was the low point of our life. Howitzer: Just shut up man! Michael: Nah, don't worry guys. I just wanted to get your take on Claire's kidnapping, who you think did it and such. Where's my bro at, by the way? I want him out here too. Howitzer: Oh, Frost? He's on the shitter. Anyway... we're thinking it's probably someone that hates your guts. Well, seeing how we're still friends with Bisc at least, we know it's not him, because we actually visited him, unlike you. No problems or anything. SO it's not him. He's in a coma or something too. Michael: I can't believe you're sti- [Shrapnel cuts Trey off before he can bring up Bisc.] Shrapnel: Well, I think it's gotta be someone that hates your f'n guts. Did you notice who was in the crowd on Suicide? Pretty fishy, the guy that Brother Frost hates the most, the person that hates all, the person that hates YOU. Saint? Take a good 2 minute think man, it's the f'n Saint, he want's to mind-fuck you like a pornstar. Michael: Ugh. Nice image, Shrap. Howitzer: Well, I sorta think the same. But if it wasn't him, it's gotta be Sterling. I've never trusted that poor excuse for a Pornstar, I reckon he's stabbing you in the back Trey. And you're too shallow to realise it. You're being played for a fool, wake up, smell the roses, you've changed, it's not good. You're gettin' fucked over. Wake up! Sorry man, someone had to say it. Michael: Come on guys, give me a little more cred- [Toilet flush. Out walks Frost... without skipping a beat...] Frost: It's Goings. Michael: HAHAHA... very funny bro. Howitzer: Anyway, we got shit too do around this place... you've let the castle really slide man. Get outta here, we'll see ya later. [Trey almost argues, but just decides to leave. He grabs an apple and munches on it on his way out.]
[We fade in... only this time, only audio fades in. We hear Michael's voice over a crackly cell phone, it seems. He askes the common question, and silence meets him momentarily, until...] Lost Soul: What the hell are you asking me for Trey? Don't you have some of your little buddies to bother - shouldn't you be checking all of the dark alleys and the sleazy bars for some little serial rapist who probably has her all nice and tied up in his apartment - bound and gagged spread eagle on the floor? Michael: That's abo- [Lost Soul goes right over him.] Lost Soul: HUH TREY? What do you care about what I think - I'm just a washed up has been right? RIGHT? RIGHT? I don't even fucking know half of these people - you just think I can give you a nice little answer? Gee - I think it's Shawn Collins because he always has that stupid little look on his face like he just raped a goat! Or maybe it's someone close to you - like that idiot Lance Sterling who keeps looking at your ass each time you two have an interview together. How the fuck should I know? [Click.]
[Fade in. This scene is at HWF headquarters, where Michael tracks down ex-wrestler Blackjack. Apparently Blackjack is in the building to settle something about copyrights and licensing for the Blackjack name or something. Anyways, once Trey convinces Blackjack that he's not looking for a fight, he asks him about Claire.] Blackjack: Claire Mathews, that chick. Gee, well Mikey I guess I am going out of character here... but between me and you, I'm real sorry bout that broad. I mean, I can't believe some one took her from you. That was pretty dirty. I know how much you love her. Michael: As a friend... Blackjack (rolling eyes): Of course.... Well, who do I think? Honestly? Sterling. I mean, who else? We all know Sterling is gay. He got jelous of Claire and had to take her from you to get closer to you. Know what I am saying? That's just my opinion though. [Blackjack pats Trey on the back until a secretary calls him into an office. Fade out.]
[We open at the last Suicide, after Tempest vs. Nightstalker. 'stalker comes backstage and takes a seat, calming himself down. Michael tentatively comes up to him.] Nightstalker: First of all my friend, who are you? Michael: Michael Trey... I was wondering what your view is on Claire's kidnapping? [Stalker ignores Michael almost completely.] Nightstalker: Second of all, why do you ask me such questions? I do not know this Claire you speak of nor do I really care if she is kidnapped or not. I have been here three short weeks and already you come here and accuse me of these things! Listen here pretty boy, you may think you are top dog around here and can run around making stupid assumptions about someone you do not know. You seem to be tangled up in a web of love, and that will only hinder you down the road. This is the only advice I shall ever give to you. As to knowing who took your darling Claire, I do not know, do not care, get out of my face. Good day... [Stalker throws an elbow pad in Trey's face and walks to his dressing room.]
[The next scene is in the tXa's locker room after the main event on Suicide. Renegade is also there, all three men just sort of chilling out and munching on some food, enjoying the win. Michael finally brings up Claire.] Sterling: Well...you know, I really have no idea who would do something like that. But...you know, I never trusted Rykopathe at all. Guy just seems like a shady sort of character to me. Besides, we all know what a dirtbag he can be. Seems like something he would do....but who knows. Just, Michael, when you find out who...give him a good swift ass kicking, Sterling-style. Michael: Will do, Sterling. [Sterling flashes the Sterling smile.] Renegade: I'm sure there are plenty of suspects. Hell, around a year ago, I could myself have been eligible for something like that. But not now. After tagging up with you, I have gained a respect, and I have my own theories. I would have to say Rykopathe. He's done some sick things in the past. Maybe if you recall a while ago, when I turned on him and put his ass out of action at May Mayhem, and he was in the hospital, he went crazy. His buddy Jesse tried to console him, but he was totally insane. How do any of us HWF wrestlers know that he is mentally stable now? I have a feeling he's the same old fucked up bastard he was... Michael: Could be... could be... [They continue in silence for a moment, before finally Sterling starts talking about one of his movies or something or other. Fade out.]
[Fade up... backstage creative meeting. Michael leans across the table and whispers to Phoenix, who glares at Michael harshly when he hears what Michael is asking about.] Phoenix: You know what, Trey? I really don't have the slightest clue who took Claire. And honestly, I don't even care. Hell, whatever is going on between Claire at the kidnapper is none of my business and it really shouldn't be any of yours either. Michael: Bu- Phoenix: I didn't take her, none of the Anti-Heroes took her, and that's all I care about. That's all you should care about. It's obvious she's happier with that guy since you damn near tried to take her head off. Michael: I didn- Phoenix: So I'm not going to lose sleep over this and neither should you. It's obvious she can get away from that guy so if she wants to come back to you for some God foresaken reason, then she can do it. Just let her live her life rather than trying to control her. You have too many other things to focus on right now with your match against Lost Soul this week and keeping your tag titles with that self-glorifying jackass of a partner that you have. So for the betterment of you, me, Claire, and the whole federation, just let this die. Michael: ... [Phoenix returns his attention to the meeting and Michael sits, half-pouting and half-contemplatively through the rest of the meeting.]
[Open up backstage on Suicide. John Justice has come back, since he visited on last week's Commish's Corner! He's talking with someone when Michael comes up and asks him about the kidnapping.] Justice: Somebody kidnapped her? Fa real? Michael: Yeah. Justice: You playin' wit' me? Michael: Do I play? Justice: Well damn man, I don't like ya all that much but hate ta see that shit... um... I got no idea my man, but I can tell ya it wasn't me. If I see or hear anything, I gotcha though. [Trey nods and slaps Justice on the back. JJ returns to his convo as Michael stalks away.]
[Fade in, right before Chris Styles vs. Chris Thrilla on Suicide. Styles is getting stretched in the hallway as Michael approaches him, asking his opinion on the Claire kidnapping.] Styles: Who kidnapped Claire? Fuck man, my guess is as good as yours but if I had to lay a guess on someone that is CURRENTLY in the HWF I would have to say Phoenix. Why Phoenix you ask? Well, Phoenix is one of the most talented guys on the HWF roster but hasn't been able to break into the World Title hunt. Michael: True... Styles: So how could he do this? Simple, becomes immersed in a personal rivalry with yourself, Michael Trey. One of the main men in the hunt. Also, there is the fact he is a member of the Anti-Heroes, arch rivals of the X-Treme Alliance which you happen to be a member of. [Michael nods his head, almost seeming to agree.] Styles: But... yes there is a but. I don't actual think Phoenix is the perpetrator, though he seems to be the most likely on the roster. I believe your perpetrator is a former member of the HWF, someone from your past. I don't know much about the early days but if you look back I think you will find your Clair-napper. Heh, sorry bout' that, I couldn't help myself. Anyway, I don't know for sure. [Styles hears some commotion near the curtain, signalling that he has to get ready for his match. He jumps up and leaves, nodding as he exits.]
[Michael enters a gym. It's Friday, and it's a local gym near to Tom's River, where Suicide is taking place the next day. He spots Mayhem and quickly makes him the next victim, asking what his opinion is. Mayhem stops working his triceps and looks down for a second. He thinks. The mask covering his face doesn't allow any change to read his emotions. He glances up once more.] Mayhem: Who kidnapped Claire? Man...damned if I know. Believe me, I wish I did, this whole situation reeks. I don't like a thing about it and if there was something I could do or try to find out I wish I could. I know one thing though, this may sound cliche, but I feel sorry for the SOB who did kidnap her. Michael: I don't. Mayhem: Well, I watched what happened on Suicide a few weeks back, when she did escape and I saw what happened and my blood boiled watching that shit. If Claire is somehow watching this I hope you can understand what did happen and try to escape again, cause this time if I see it I'll be there to help you. Trey, good luck man... I gotta go check into the hotel. [Mayhem drops the weight and heads out while Trey continues lifting when he's not even thinking about weights...]
[Fade in on a long buffet bar. A man reaches down and grabs some bread and sets it beside the rest of his food... it's David Zakin. Right behind him in the line is Michael Trey; apparently this is a buffet table along the way to Tom's River and Suicide this past week. Michael leans to Zakin and whispers to him the question about Claire.] Zakin: I honestly think it was Phoenix. The bastard has absolutely no regard for anyone but himself. He beat the shit out of me for quite a while and acted like nothing happen. I know you two had something going on...and you might have done something to piss him off, so I guess this could be a way of getting back at you. And if it was him, I'll help you beat his ass down. Michael: Thanks man... hey, you want your cornbread? [Zakin gives Trey a strange look and hustles down the line, leaving Michael all alone. Fade out.]
[Fade in. Michael is watching Jack Daddy's True Life MTV Promo with him backstage in Trey's lockerroom. Both men are laughing a little bit and oddly talking about the past couple months... the party at Trey's house, the True Life promo, the Christmas Story "Yes You Can Win Another Match, Jack Daddy", the confusion by Spike. An odd connection between the two, but Michael breaks it by asking Jack Daddy about Claire...] Jack Daddy: Trey, man, all I can tell you it wasn't me. You may be right. I think I am too stupid to pull off such a ruse. But I know who isn't. Who is the man... who... um... I dunno... but it wasn't me! I'm too stupid. Promise. Michael: Alright JD, I believe ya. [They both smile and Trey fast forwards through some commercials to get to another chunk of the True Life promo. Fade...]
[Fade in. We're out on the set of CC, just before the show. Kyle Solomon is out, talking to Trey a little bit before the show, and inevitably, Michael gets around to asking about the kidnapping.] Solomon: I believe its pretty obvious. The only person that would kidnap Claire would be the one person who would never get accused: Claire's kidnapper is... [Pause for effect.] Solomon: The Saint. He's one sick bastard and he claimed he wanted to "save" Claire AND you, but you refused. How'd you refuse? By not succumbing to the pressures of evil and by maintaining you respect, courtesy, and pride. Michael: Aww... thanks Solomon. Solomon: So, because he couldn't get you, Saint took Claire instead. He reappeared at Holy Night as a foreshadowing of what's to come. Saint always does everything for a reason, and that's why he took Claire. Michael: So you think The Saint? Solomon: The One Man Show's only other guess wouldn't be a man, no. It'd be a woman. That's right, the Mark is pointing his finger... [Kyle slowly points his finger directly into the face of Trey, keeping it there in a fixed steady state.] Solomon: ... at Tempest. Michael: What? Solomon: She's a hell of a competitor, but she's all about women's lib. She said she wants to "protect" Claire. From what? From being your slave. Everyone knows Tempest has a history with being part of the slavery train after she was won in a bet by a wrestling promoter. She just doesn't want the same thing to happen to Claire that happened to her. Now if you'll excuse me... [He whips his finger away.] Solomon: The Mark has a match to prepare for. Michael: Hey... good luck man. Whip Silk's ass for me. [Solomon smiles and heads to the backstage area, while Michael just smiles while he leans against the desk.]
[Tempest taps her finger against her lips and peers off to the side thoughtfully. We're seated at her kitchen table, as Michael has been invited over for dinner... the main dish? Hot wings.] Tempest: Well, who be cruel enough to take Claire? I can hardly fathom it. It’s scary! But the one person who seems to me to hate you that much is Commish Collins. I’m not sure I understand why, but he does. Of course he’s got an alibi right? Michael: Sadly... yes, he does. He was busy getting run down by Sterling when Claire got kidnapped. Of course, he might still be involved... [Tempest nods gravely.] Tempest: And Collins seems to have a new best friend who could help him with this sort of thing... [She wrinkles her nose.] Tempest: Silky Palms.
[Fade back in to the studio, where Michael sits quietly... he's not even paying attention to the audience or the show. He's so deep in thought, so wrapped up with his concern for Claire, that the show cuts to commercials without him saying a word...] [COMMERCIALS] [The last commercial fades out and the logo for "Michael's Corner" comes up on the screen. The crowd applaudes and stands up, cheering loudly while the cameras swoop widely to show the ring that was set up for the matches during the commercial break and finally centers on Michael Trey, half-sitting on the desk onstage.] Michael: Welcome back everyone. Didn't the crew do a fantastic job with this set, bringing in the ring right into the Corner's studio? I tell ya, this isn't something you'd see on just ANY Commish's Corner... only the ones hosted by people who do a better job than Collins, that's for sure. [A few loud cheers and whistles.] Michael: Moving on, the match tonight was ordered because of some unfortunate time cut-backs on Suicide this past week. And.. it is of personal interest to me for numerous reasons... the least of which being that two of these guys used to be my employees. But more importantly, I'd like Chris Davidson and Tempest to come on down here a little earlier... guys? ["Indestructible" blares out over the crowd and they respond with a loud round of cheers as Chris Davison and Tempest come out. Tempest skips ahead and waves while Chris comes out with a broad smile and waves to the crowd. Then he takes Tempest's hand and they step over to Trey's desk area. Chris holds out his hand.] Chris: Trey, great show you got here man. How's it going? Michael: It's going pretty well Chris... I think... as well as can be expected anyway, with the way my mind is lately. Ready for your match? [Chris grins.] Chris: Beyond ready, I've been antsy ever since Saturday. Michael: Good, good. And Tempest... how are you? [Temepst shrugs, but smiles a little.] Tempest: Been better. I lost that match on Saturday and now I'm not booked. But then I suppose there's always paintball and a few well placed firecrackers to make my displeasure clear to people. [She grins and a few laughs and cheers erupt from the crowd.] Michael: True... very true. I suppose you guys are wondering why I specifically called both of ya out here, hunh? Tempest: Yeah! [Tempest looks up at the rafters nervously as she huddles close to Chris. He smiles and holds her as the crowd laughs.] Tempest: Don't mind me, just looking for pianos up there. [Michael shakes his head, amused. Tempest seperates from Chris and they both look at Michael.] Chris: So... really, why are we out here? Michael: I just wanted to say... [Michael sticks out his hand to Davison this time.] Michael: Congratulations, you two. I can't believe it... I didn't even know you were a couple when I pointed you towards the HWF, and now you're getting MARRIED?! It's incredible. [Chris smiles wide and shakes Trey's hand. Michael then turns and hugs his friend Tempest warmly.] Michael: I just can't believe it. I'm really excited for the wedding... it'll be beautiful! [Tempest grins happily as she hugs Trey.] Tempest: Oh I know! I can't wait. Well, I guess I can till we set a date anyway. [Chris smiles and she gazes at him adoringly. A small 'awwwww' goes up from the crowd.] Michael: Of course... I'm speechless. I just can't believe it happened so QUICKLY too! [Both Tempest and Chris chuckle.] Chris: Well, it's not as quick as it looks. You haven't seen the last year that we've bene through together, but it's been worth it. Thanks for the congratulations man, it means a lot. Michael: No problem Chris... I'm happy for both of you. [Tempest smiles and nods enthusiastically.] Tempest: I'm happy for us too! [The crowd laughs as she and Chris hug, then Tempest steps back and straightens up.] Tempest: But you've got a match, and I guess I better get going. Michael... [She turns to Trey and takes his hand.] Tempest: Thanks for having me on. Michael: It was a pleasure.... [She stretches up and gives him a little peck on the cheek. Michael blushes and begins to mumble.] Michael: We'll... be... right back, or something... [Davison and Tempest hook arms and walk backstage again as we cut to commercials.] [COMMERCIALS] [Fade back in on Michael, sitting in the desk which is on the side now, making room for the ring.] Michael: And... here specially for this match... TIM AND JEFF, the HWF ANNOUNCE TEAM! [The crowd goes nuts as Tim and Jeff stand at their mini-announce table, holding microphones.] Tim: Thanks Michael... and welcome everyone to COMMISH'S CORNER!!! I'm Tim Miller, along with the man who's pimping skills belong on SportsCenter: You can't stop him, You can only hope to contain him... [Cheers, until Jeff raises the mike.] Jeff: That's right... I am Jeff... "My sole purpose in life is to rub vasoline on some of the most incredible babes you've ever seen" Robinson! [Huge pop as the two men settle into the booth and get ready to go. Michael kicks back and watches from the stage.] Tim: This matchup WAS scheduled as a special referee match for last Saturday’s edition of Suicide.... Jeff: But, due to illness, Commisioner Collins was unable to make an appearance, and therefore, Mayhem was also banned from the match. Tim: As such, Harry Sullivan was called in to ref instead. A former wrestler himself, Harry should be quite up to the task. Jeff: I dunno... after what we saw during the break... Tim: Oh, will you... Ladies and gentlemen... what my colleague here is refering to is this footage of Kyle Solomon and Chris Davison earlier this evening... [The scene opens on Kyle wrapping his feet. There’s a knock at his locker room door.] Kyle: Come in! [Chris Davison steps into view, and the girls in the audience squeel over the sight of both these young men on the big screen at once. Kyle stands up fast, a guarded expression on his young face.] Chris: Hey, easy guy... I just wanted to let you know... I don’t wanna help Silky get a shot at anything he hasn’t earned... I’m only in this for my shot at Storm. Anything between you and me... that’s just business.... alright? [Kyle looks down as Chris extends his hand. Kyle takes it.] Kyle: Alright. Hopefully Storm will feel the same way. You just let Silky get in the ring with me first... Then you and Storm can finish your little war. Chris: Alright. [A smile lights Chris’ face before Kyle pulls him back...] Kyle: One more thing... stay the hell out of my way. [The crowd howls as Kyle walks out.] Jeff: They’re in cahoots! They’re tryin’ ta screw the Silk! Tim: Oh, STOP!!! Let’s take you to the ring, where Kyle and Jonathan Storm just came in and are awaiting their opponents... [Solomon paces the ring like a tiger awaiting live prey. Storm has stepped onto the apron. As agreed he’ll leave Solomon and Silky to their business, so long as he gets his pound of flesh from Davison.] Tim: Solomon is in RARE form tonight folks! I hope Palms is prepared for this fight! Jeff: Blah-blah-blah! Solomon is tryin’ to cash in on this whole bad boy image he got from palin’ around with the Silk Assassin back in the EPWA! He looks like that little hootch that sings that "Most Girls" song! Tim: He does not look like Pink! [Chris Davison’s music, "Indestructible" hits, and then stops abruptly just as he steps through the curtain. The lights go spastic, in a multi-layered strobe effect. A familiar delayed power chord riff rips through the air as the lights fall into time with the sound, and Silky Palms image appears on the projection screen from earlier, as the life-size version appears beside Davison, in the same pose. Water dripping from the short ringlets of hair on his head, his arms at his side as he brings his head up slowly. He sprays water from his mouth, creating an intermittent stream of clouds in the strobes. Davison glares at the entranceway, with his hands on his hips.] ["Rock the Party" by P.O.D. thumps from the P.A. as Silky, quickly flanked by Spryte and Cokey, with Big Poppa Pimp bringing up the rear, marches out. He brings a hand up to hush the crowd, and signal for them to cut the music as Spryte hands him a mic. Davison turns back to the ring just long enough to stare down Storm before returning his angered gaze toward Silky. He takes a step closer to him, just enough to be uncomfortable.] Silky: Yeah, Davison, thanks for showin’ up guy! You’re a champ! Now, I just wanna set the record straight here, ‘fore I walk the rest of the way down this ramp. Kyle, lil’ buddy? This match is set up in order to determine whether or not I ‘get a shot’ at the SWF title. Buddy, I don’t NEED a shot at it! It’s MY belt. People here seem to have overlooked the fact that I am the one that BROUGHT the title here. I am the last officially recognized holder of the Smackdown Wrestling Federation’s flagship title. You just ran off with it like a thief in the night, or like the little punk you’re tryin’ so hard to look like with your flamin’ hair. [During the speech Davison rolls his eyes and then focuses on Storm, not leaving any room for Silky's words.] Jeff: ‘Nother point for the Silkster! And another dig at Solomon’s new hair! Tim: And they call Kyle "The Mark"... Silky: So Kyle, you hold onto that little knick-knack, and I’ll come down there to that ring! [Silky begins to waltz down to the ring.] Silky: And I’ll climb in there and wrestle... NOT for that meaningless scrap of leather and gold, a throwback to a failed promotion... but just for the JOY of beating your ASS!!! [And with that, Silky tears ass to the ring and slides in. He meets a right from Solomon, which he immediately returns. They go back and forth, Silky’s glasses flying off, his jacket sliding off his shoulders. Silky begins to get the upper hand, thanks to his training and greater arm strength.] Jeff: You don’t go toe-to-toe with the Sexmachine! Tim: I can’t argue with that one. Silky’s boxing skills are unparralelled here in the HWF. [Silky drives Kyle back, nearly to the corner, when Kyle slips beneath a left cross and lands a reverse neckbreaker. Silky rolls out of the ring and pulls off his trenchcoat, immediately throwing himself back into the ring. He’s met with a boot to the gut, and an attempted flowing DDT, but Silky holds tight as Kyle lifts his legs, and powers back into an incredible release Northern Lights Suplex. Kyle hits, bouncing into a bridge, but Silky also holds his back as he staggers forward.] Tim: BEAUTIFUL reversal, but he’s paying for it! Jeff: He’s just playing! Nothing can hurt the Silk! Tim: Kyle may be lighter than Silky, but 200lbs is by no means a light strain on your back... [Storm blind tags Kyle as he uses the ropes to lift himself. He rushes in, clotheslining Silky from behind, sending him sprawling. He continues to run, jumping forward and landing in a seated position on the second rope. Davison had dropped back off the apron, but not fast enough, as both Storm’s feet hit him square in the chest. Davison crashes to the floor as Silky regains his feet. Storm irish whips him to the corner, and hops onto him, locking on a front chancery, and attempting a tornado DDT. Incredibly enough, Silky slows Storm’s momentum by grabbing around his waist and left thigh, and just as Storm’s forced-out leg touches the ground; Silky reverses the move into a T-bone DDT! Both men are laid out!] Tim: Amazing! Jeff: The "mark" of a TRUE champion! Tim: I wouldn’t go THAT far! [Storm blinks himself awake and begins to sit up, as Silky rolls over, brushing the outstretched fingertips of Davison. Silky leaps to the top turnbuckle and hits a missile drop kick on the recovering Storm.] Tim: Float over... [1... 2... Solomon makes the save with a slingshot leg-drop onto the top of the pile.] [The referee begins to try and get Solomon out of the ring when Silky runs over and hits a German Suplex, holding the bridge for the pin.] Tim: I don’t think Silky realizes Solomon tagged out earlier! Jeff: Solomon’s just lucky the ref does, elsewise, I think this one would be over! [The referee nudges Silky to inform him that neither he nor Solomon is the legal man. Silky releases Solomon and begins to scream at the ref. As this happens, Storm rolls his arm onto the dazed Davison, and Kyle locks the unsuspecting Silky in a full nelson and hits a textbook Dragon Suplex, holding for the pin.] Jeff: Hah hah! Dumb ass! Tim: Oh for Go... That’s the same damn thing Silky just did!!! Jeff: No, no, no... Jesus, why isn’t the ref doin’ his job! Davison’s covered! [Kyle holds the move ‘til he notices that the ref turns, as if on cue, to count for Storm’s cover. Davison kicks out, nearly in synch with Silky.] Jeff: Let’s see. That’s like a seven for Silky and Davison’s side, and ten for Solomon and Storm. Tim: What? Jeff: I’m keeping track of how many counts the incompetent referee has missed. Come on, Silk! Close the gap! [A second referee slides into the ring, separating Silky and Solomon. It almost works.] Jeff: Greeee-aat! Now it’s a three way tag-dance... the two teams that started the match, and now a team of refs. This is degenerating fast. Tim: It’s the animosity between these men and the fact that there isn’t an arena big enough to contain these guys’ egos! [Silky takes the referee by the head, walking him toward the ropes as though pleading his case, before throwing him to the outside. Before he can collect himself, Big Daddy scoops him onto his shoulders and hits his "Magic Ride" (rack-neckbreaker). Silky and Solomon immediately re-engage in their brawling. Solomon irish whips Silky, and hits a frankensteiner on the return. He shoots overtoward Silky, who recovers enough to pull him to the ground and into a variation of the crippler crossface. The original ref squeezes his way between them, as Silky appears to be attempting to tear out one of Kyle’s eyes.] Jeff: This mess wouldn’t be happening if Commissioner Collins were officiating this match like he was supposed to be! Tim: Um, we’re not supposed to be discussing backstage politics out here. Did you get the memo? Jeff: Yeah, but I just said... Tim: I’ll make sure you get another copy of that memo. [Silky finally steps away and goes to the other side of the ring, while Kyle returns to his own corner, nearest their fallen partners. Storm manages to tag in Kyle as Davison begins to rise to his feet. Davison glances at Silky, then back at Kyle. Kyle points past Davison to Silky. Davison just waves Kyle on. They lock up, and Kyle breaks the lock with a European uppercut. He lifts Davison up and attempts an Irish whip, but is reversed. Kyle is fired off at the ropes, but rebounds with a stiff springboard elbow. Kyle pulls Davison up by the hair and locks on a Dragon sleeper.] Tim: He’s gonna put him out! [... and drags him to Silky’s side of the ring! He holds out Davison's hand toward Silky, who eagerly tags in as Davison pulls away, fury in his eyes. Kyle drop toe-hold’s Silky, and goes into the near ropes. Silky rolls clear as Kyle drops the elbow, then pounces on him, locking on a Buffalo Sleeper. Solomon gets to his feet, hits an elbow in Silky’s bread basket, and twists out of the sleeper, short arm clotheslining Silky. Kyle goes for an arm bar, to which Silky responds by grabbing Kyle’s wrist and raising his arm fast into Solomon’s groin. He stands and attempts a pumphandle into his infamous super-shoulderbreaker/tombstone combo. Kyle is too fast, and slides free, shoving Silky at the ropes from behind. Silky rebounds, stops short, and kicks Kyle in the mouth before Irish whipping him into the ropes.] Jeff: Here it comes! [He presses Kyle into the air, but Kyle holds onto Silky’s wrists, turning his body and landing behind Silky while bending Silky backward and lifting him!] Tim: He’s gonna put him... [Silky wraps his arms around Kyle’s head as he’s lifted, and raises his legs faster than Kyle expected, kicking them out away from his body. His greater weight causes them to fall forward, turning Kyle’s "Right on the Mark" piledriver into...] Jeff: The Silk Streem!!! He hit the Silk Streem!!! Tim: He landed awkwardly himself though! Can he make the cover?!? [Precious seconds pass as Silky rolls an arm over Solomon.] [1... 2... Th-] Jeff: What the fuck is he smoking?!? Tim: Chris Davison just pulled Silky out of the ring by his foot! He’s climbing in himself! Jeff: That wasn’t a legal tag! He wasn’t on the apron! [Davison stands Solomon up and whips him to his corner, taunting Storm to get back in the ring. They fume at each other for a moment, and then Storm slaps Solomon on the shoulder and explodes into the ring, throwing fists with Davison much the same way Kyle and Silky had earlier in the bout.] Jeff: Storm! You’re the scientific champion! Don’t sink to this guy’s level! Tim: Oh shut up! That’s a damn paper title! Jeff: No! Look at the the SCIENTIFIC way he punches! Tim: You’re hopeless. [Storm finally breaks up the brawl with a thumb to the eye, and an irish whip to the far ropes, where Silky is climbing in. Without warning, Silky superkicks Davison, laying him out cold!] Tim: He just hit the "Show Stoppa" on his own partner! Was that a reflex reaction to the body coming toward him, or...? Jeff: Silky always knows where he’s at! He just knows that he can finish this match on his own! [Silky falls back against the ropes to regain his composure, and Solomon rockets across the ring and hits a flying lariat on Silky, sending them both over the top to the outside. Storm rushes over to his fallen foe.] Tim: Look at that vulture! Jeff: Opportunist. [Davison remarkably lunges forward, grabbing the ropes and jocking Storm on top turnbuckle. Meanwhile, on the outside, Silky and Solomon’s brawl has spilled inot the crowd near the barricade. Silky scores a quick throat thrust, and a drop kick to Kyles knee before rolling himself over the barricade. The referee's attention on the ring action, Big Daddy takes the opportunity to mug Solomon with his cane as he attempts to climb back onto the mats. Davison turns his attention to his ‘partner’, and slides groggily out of the ring. He runs at Silky from behind for a clothesline but Silky ducks and Davison barrels into Solomon at full tilt, knocking him back into the crowd. He turns angrily back to Silky just as Silky fires off another "Show Stoppa" superkick. Silky, seeing his opportunity, rolls into the ring. He makes his way over to Storm, who is gingerly attempting to climb down from his perch. Silky rushes in, throwing himself at the ropes next to Storm, causing Storm to fall forward into....] Jeff: "The Halo Jump"!!!! It’s gotta be over!!! [Silky makes the cover.] [1... 2... 3!!!] Jeff: And the crowd goes wild!!! Tim: Unbelievable! How in the world?! I couldn’t even FOLLOW half of that! Jeff: It doesn’t matter! All that matters is that Silky goes on to Saturday night to prove once and for all that he’s the TRUE SWF champion! Tim: Folks, we’ll be right back... we gotta have some commercials... Jeff: SONOFABITCHBASTARD! [As we go to commercial, Silky is carried from the ring atop Big Daddy’s shoulders, in the company of his entourage, leaving Davison, Storm, and Solomon laid out.] [COMMERCIALS] [We return and the ring is cleared off the studio. Michael sits on the desk, ready to close out the show. Michael: We’re back with my ‘Of The Week’ for the week of January 10, 2001.
Song Of The Week: Linkin Park's ‘Forgotten’ [The scene fades out to the HWF and CC logos.]
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