 March 25th, 2001 WARNING!! - The following program contains scenes of unedited vulgarity, and mature content. The HWF, Shawn Collins or any of his guests are not responsible for any disturbing images or comments you may be viewing or hearing. Please be advised that by continuing to watch this program, you are agreeing to this statement. Please also be advised that by continuing to watch this program, you are confessing to the world that you have been castrated 3 times, lived in a box for half your childhood, and ate elephant eggs for breakfast yesterday. Yes – ELEPHANT EGGS. So even if you are a three headed, homosexual, blind, disfigured, fire-breathing monkey... please enjoy the show, and don’t sue me... cause I’m beautiful! Commissioner’s Corner – Las Vegas, Nevada – Sunday, March 25, 2001. [The lights in CC Headquarters all go out as the show starts. Even the ‘On Air’ signals have gone out. The beginning soft notes of ‘Clubbed To Death’ by Rob D begin to play. The sound of thunder is heard, and then the ominous voice: “YOU GET ME CLOSER TO GOD!” ‘Clubbed To Death’ hits its climax, and the lights come on. Shawn Collins is sitting in his desk, wearing a navy blue suit.] Shawn: This is it, ladies and gentlemen. Tonight is the night. Sinners will be redeemed. Titles will be on the line. Lives will be at stake! Tonight is Seven! The biggest PPV the HWF has had since Holy Night! But to start off the pre-show tonight, most of you know of the problem the HWF had with its distributor - Tripod. Some of the wrestlers gave their thoughts on the happenings, and we’re giving you them here on CC! [The scene cuts to Mayhem on a video monitor.] Mayhem: Hell, what can I say when it comes to Tripod...several words come to mind. In no particular order...sh-theads, @ssholes, morons, bad landlords, dumber then a convention of politicians and hermaphrodites. I think the world would be a much friendlier place if a large mass of horney escape convicts would invade the tripod headquarters and perform demeaning sexual acts on those who work there. Then in order to contain the prisoners and workers we should drop a large quantity to biological weapons on the building; then in order to contain the bioweapons we need to firebomb the building to eradicate the viruses. Then to put out the flames we should get all those who were screwed by tripod to come and piss the flames out. Hmmm, that might be too extreme but IT'S FUNNY WHEN YOU PROCESS THE IMAGE!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAH HEHEHEHAHAHAHAHA! This may be the first time Tripod's burned the HWF but when I've worked with Tripod before I got screwed so much I though I was trapped in a prison shower room. I don't know what their problems are but if they want to keep their sites open they need to get their sh-t together. BIG TIME!!! [It now cuts to Phoenix.] Phoenix: Hell, let's face it, Tripod flat out is the personification of contradictions. Now being a living lie is bad enough, but they were able to take it one step farther, not even seeing a truth in their actions. When Michael Trey turns himself into a walking contradiction, no matter how wrong he is, he always sees a glimmer of truth in his actions. But this Tripod thing is going too damn far. They sign on with the Hardcore Wrestling Federation and we bring them hardcore action. We give them blood and violence. And then, without warning, they go and cut us off. And what reason do they have? Why would they take something as big as the HWF and completely shut people off to it? What are they trying to prove? And what excuse do they give us? None. So as we sit here and wonder why, the answer is too simple. It's not over a grudge with ownership and it's not over copyright issues. Everything we've worked for is now staring us right back in our collective face. Why was our TV deal snapped? The answer, it's because we're hard to the fucking core. Censors make the WWF tone down their sex and violence. TNN neuters, guts, and rapes ECW by making them get rid of the violence that gave that company its name. And where do we stand in all this? They tell us to watch our actions. They tell us to get rid of the unnecessary violence. They want us to stop showing things like me lighting Trey's ass on fire. They want the sexual things to leave. They see an HWF without Bisc white misting anyone or an HWF without anyone having the name "Silky Palms." And through this, we don't change. We bring the violence each and every week. We raise the bar for hardcore to levels not meant to be seen on TV. Tripod can't change us, so what do they do? They use their corporate power to the best of their ability to bring us to our knees. They stand on their pedestal and they look down on us. And with looks of shock in their eyes, awe tattooed on their faces, we stand together as one. We are not another faceless watered down federation. We are the Hard to the Mother Fucking Core Wrestling Federation. If Tripod thinks this will stop us going on as we are, they're right. The nooses and restraints won't be around our necks any longer. For when, not if, but when we get the next TV deal, they will know what they are getting, pure violence. As we are allowed to do things our way instead of being force fed some faceless corporation's idea of hardcore, this will change us forever. A new evolution in hardcore begins now with us going on to become even bigger than we already are while Tripod sits in the corner trying to find out where they went wrong. [Then it cuts to Tempest and Chris Davison with Tony Bradshaw.] Tempest folded her arms and said, "Well, those Tripod execs really need to pull their heads out of their collective butt! We’re the hottest thing they have going!" Davison nodded his agreement. "The ratings were right up there, people watched and liked it. It's hard not to like what we do; we put everything we have into it." Tempest continued, "I dunno, it’s gotta be some kinda conspiracy or something. I think it’s the government myself. Them and the cows." There was a pause as Tony Bradshaw and Chris just blinked, trying to comprehend. Bradshaw spoke up. "Uh... the cows?" Tempest nodded earnestly and said, "Yeah, it was the Cow Palace show that first got knocked off the air, so I think it’s obvious the cows were worried about their ratings plummeting in their home venue. I mean, we might start doing those Milk mustache commercials next and then where would they be? They’d be forgotten as the all time icons of dairy. They’d be exposed as the one note wonders they are with all that Mooooooo stuff. I mean who can watch that?" Bradshaw fumbled mentally as Davison laughed. "Well, you can't really argue with that logic." Discreetly in a low tone, he added to the camera, "After all, you can't argue what doesn't make sense in the first place, right?" Tempest tapped her foot as she leaned close and overheard the comment. "It does too make sense! Wouldn't you be worried about your popularity if you were something as boring as a cow?" "If I were a cow," Davison said patiently, "I doubt I'd care much about anything besides my next meal." Tempest grinned and said "Which is exactly why you'd be worried if someone was gonna take your show." Chris laughed. "I think the cows will rest easy." Tempest shrugged with an innocent look and said, "Hey, there's no good rational reason, so I hadda think of something." He laughed and kissed her cheek. "Well, it's stretching, even for you." "Stretching? Oh yeah I guess I should do some of that too." She giggled and hugged Chris as they both laughed. Shawn: We’ll be back after this break. [Commercials.] [Suddenly, "Lakini's Juice" hits as the camera pans over and we see the side door being kicked open. Out come the Wrecking Crew, all dressed up in blue jeans and cut-off Wrecking Crew T-shirts, and carrying a beer cooler. Rickey Williams gives a silent glare to a security guard, while Wildcat Williams plops down in the seat next to Collins' desk and opens another can of beer. Big Texas follows, and eases into the seat next to Wildcat. Both are quickly downing the drinks in hand. ] Collins: What are you guys doing here? Wildcat: Hell, we thought we could make at least one personal appearance before Seven. We've never been on your show, so we thought it would be a damn blast. [ Collins looks on angrily as Wrecking Crew tosses their empty cans around the set, then dig in the cooler for new ones. ] Collins: You guys drink too much of that, man. Rickey: Hell, we've been cutting down for the big PPV. See? It's light beer! [Collins holds up his Dunhills.] Collins: Yeah, and these are light cigarettes. Rickey: How's Jason Roberts' wife, Collins? I hear you two are close. Collins: What? What are you talking about? I’m closer to this desk than I am with his wife. Wildcat: Well, Collins, if your gonna cover up your little side action with Roberts' wife [ winks at Collins ] Then you should probably give us an interview. Collins: I should probably kick you off my set. Rickey: C'mon, puss. Do the damn interview. If you don't we'll tear up your whole set. You don't want that now, do ya? Collins: Ugh.. I have nothing better to do, so what the f*ck! Wildcat: Smart boy. [ The Wrecking Crew quickly toss their empty cans again, and grab more from the cooler.] Collins: I can see alcohol poisoning in your near futures. Anyways, how are you two doing? Wildcat: We're doing pretty good. Got a title match at Seven, we're the best tag team in the HWF, what more could we ask for? Collins: Teen Angst are the tag team champions! Rickey: Not for too much longer. Collins: No offence, but you guys don’t have the best record against them do you? What is it? 10,432 1/2 times to none? Wildcat: The past is the past. I don't care how many times I lose as long as I lay it all out and get the job done when the titles on the line. At Seven all that shit will be put behind us and we'll take our place at the top. That's all we ever wanted when we came here, to compete against the best with the belts on the line, and we're gonna get it. Collins: Well, what do you think about the other matches at Seven? Rickey: Well, I think Sterling will pull something out his ass to win the main event. The Trey vs. Phoenix should be a great match, not sure who'll win that one. I think Silky will take it to Davison, and Zakin should win the other match. Collins: And the Canadian Title match? Wildcat: Who gives a rat's ass? They’re Canadians! It doesn't matter who wins! Collins: I have the right mind to kick you both off my set right now! Rickey: Shit Collins, don't get all worked up. Save that energy for Robert's wife later. Hell, you'll need it to ride that seadonkey. Collins: You know what? You weren’t supposed to be here! Get the f*ck off my show! Wildcat: Dammit, Big Texas. I told you keep it under your hat. [ Wrecking grab their beer and tip the couch over, giving Collins an evil grin before walking calmly off the stage, leaving beer cans in their wake. Collins gives them the finger, then smiles at the camera as assistants move the couch back in place. ] [Commercials.] Shawn: Please welcome our guest tonight, the HWF Champion, and an HWF legend - J. Simon Rykopathe!! Rykopathe: Is this where I'm supposed to say glad to be here? Cause I'm really not.... Shawn: Oh come on Simon, why wouldn't you be glad to be here?! I mean, it's MY show! Rykopathe: Well, when you have the World Title around the waist, then it'll be your show. Until then, you're just a reporter. Don't get me wrong or anything, you are good at what you do. But while I'm the guest, it's my show. Shawn: But you just said you're the guest... doesn't that totally defeat the fact that it's your show? [Collins smirks.] Rykopathe: Listen jerky....don't get techincal. You know what I meant Shawn: Speaking of jerky... Now, really... what does that J. stand for? I heard many different rumors from many different people - Jerk, John, Jessica, "Jungle Fever"... what does it really mean, Rykopathe? Rykopathe: Let's just think about that for a few moments, Commish. If I really wanted people to know what it meant, then why would I abbreviate it? Besides, it doesn't really matter what it means. You all know who I am, so let's just leave it at that. It's bad enough that you know about my past and present. Why do you have to know every little detail? [Shoots a snot rocket on the floor] Shawn: [Shawn looks at his floor, dumbfounded. Some jerk from the back comes out and cleans it up.] Ye-ah... and you are the HWF Champion. In your opinion, what does that mean to you? Rykopathe: What does it mean to me? Personally, the title doesn't mean as much to me as the fact that I knocked Sterling off of the top. I surgically removed the cancer. The only reason I'm still holding it is just to piss him off. We all know how much I can't stand him, and this is just another way to prove to him that he's not the god he thinks he is. Shawn: Finally! A topic we both agree on! Sterling, god?! HA! Everyone know that I'm the only god in the HWF... and Gavin could be considered a semi-god... but to tell you the truth, Simon... you did good, kid! You did good! I loved that HH3 scene... it brought tears to my eyes... [Collins blows his nose, and wipes his fake tears.] Rykopathe: Wow, that's really pathetic. I dunno, most people might laugh at that. But I just don't find you too amusing. So stop screwing around and kissing the asses of people that I don't like, and maybe we can have an adult conversation. You know, something like porn. I like porn. How about you? Shawn: [Shawn's jaw drops, and he turns to look at the camera. While looking at it, he whispers...] This is the HWF Champion? What has the world come to?! [Shawn turns back to Rykopathe and smiles.] That topic is a little too... "hardcore" for this show. So, let's just skip to the next one - Why Lance Sterling sucks cock. Rykopathe: You see, here's my point. I'm so nonchalant about this pay-per view, that I could have a whole discussion on porno. You know, the crazy shit they do these days. The only thing I'm thankful for is that Lance Sterling hasn't made a cameo appearance. That would just ruin the world of porn. Actually, it just might work. He's got a mullet, can't act....he's perfect! Somebody sign him up! Sterling: [As soon as he finish speaking, the familiar sounds of Dope's "Debonaire" starts to play. Of course, this means only one thing: Lance Sterling is here! Collins and Rykopathe both look around, with Rykopathe getting up out of his seat. From the corner, no pun intended, Sterling walks out, his eyes focused on both men. As if he was an invited guest, Sterling takes a seat across from Rykopathe] Sterling: THE MAN... HAS ARRIVED! Rykopathe: I knew I smelled something funny....how ya doing, oh fond friend of mine? [Rykopathe gives a totally sarcastic smile.] Shawn: STERLING? WHAT THE F*CK ARE YOU DOING HERE... AGAIN?! Sterling: I ain't no friend of yours, bitch. For your information, I'm doing pretty good. In fact I can't wait to get the chance to beat the living daylights outta you tomorrow at Seven! Quiet down you monkey! Rykopathe: Oh, kinda like the way you beat me last time? The way you defended your World Title? [Ryko jumps back and looks down to the World Title around his waist. Looking back up, he's totally surprised.] Wait a minute...what's that doing there? I thought you.....oh, no. I BEAT YOU! Don't talk smack unless you can back it up. [Collins smiles at that comment.] Sterling: I CAN back it up, and you know it. That's why I got a score to settle with that punk Jonathan Storm first, THEN I'm coming for you! Rykopathe: Hey Collins, can you get this guy a mint? He's standing a bit too close, and I'd like for his breath to smell nice when I send him to the emergency room in a few minutes..... Sterling: What?!? You rotten, no good...arrrgh... [Sterling clenches a fist and starts breathing heavily] Shawn: [Security guards hold back Sterling.] Hey...dumb ass! You want a repeat of last week? And... WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE!? Sterling: Anything I want to, Collins! You should know by now that I go where I please, and do what I want. Rykopathe: Well, I think he's just in withdrawls from not being in the spotlight anymore. Sterling: Go the F*CK to hell, you son of a bitch! I'll slit your throat! Rykopathe: Uh oh...do I smell some resentment? Don't let that vein burst in that mullet-covered head of yours. Or maybe...just maybe...you can keep talking shit, and I'll burst it for you! [Rykopathe stands closer to Sterling, covering his nose] Shawn: [Collins combs his hair with his hand.] Enough with the threats, or Doyle and Barney are going to have to take you Downtown. Sterling: Grrrr.... Shawn: Okay, since you're both here... let me ask you some questions. Ready? Rykopathe: [sits down, and rests his feet on the table, lounging back] I'm ready....so long as Sterling doesn't blow up at eveything I say. Sterling: Oh, I won't blow up at what you say. I'll just KILL YOU! Yeah monkey, get on with it. Rykopathe: [motions to behind the camera] Make sure you get him some Mylanta. Forcing him to be quiet for a good 5 seconds might cause something to come out of other oraphuses of his body, and I just don't want that. [J. Simon blows a kiss to Sterling, and then laughs] Sterling: Just like we wouldn't want your brains to be splattered all over this studio. And do that again, and you're gonna be kissing the end of my fist! Shawn: [Collins slaps his head, and takes out a pack of Dunhills, he opens it up and lights a smoke.] Would you guys shut up for a second? Sterling: Why, you got something worth saying? Rykopathe: [in a child-like voice] He started it! You big meanie. Sterling: Sometimes I wonder about you... Rykopathe: As long as you're gonna bitch like a little child all the time, I might as well treat you like one. Shawn: SHUT.... UP!! [Ryko mysteriously pulls a baby bottle out from under the table, and slides it over to Sterling.] Rykopathe: Maybe that'll keep you from crying all night. Sterling: If you ain't careful, I'm gonna take this bottle and... well, I think you can figure out the rest. Now SHUT UP BEFORE I SHUT YOU UP! Shawn: [Shawn throws his Dunhill on the ground, and slams his fist on his desk.] Both of you SIT THE F*CK DOWN! AND SHUT THE F*CK UP! Rykopathe: [Ryko motions to zip his mouth shut and sits back down.] [Sterling relaxes and crosses one leg over the other, folding his hands behind his head] Shawn: Now... Seven... you two, and Storm as the third man. But your match is the World Title match. I just want to hear the facts from both your mouths. Why is the World Title so important to you, personally. [Shawn looks at his cigarette pack, and at the smoke on the floor. Then yells out to an assistant...] Would someone get me a F*CKING PACK OF MARLEY'S? [An assistant nods, and runs off.] Now answer the question. Rykopathe: [Ryko just stares at Sterling, waiting for him to answer first] Sterling: The world title ISN'T important to me. Whats important to me is putting THIS jackass [motions to Rykopathe] in his place. The man has been after me since I debuted in the HWF. And thanks to Storm he's now claiming to do what he KNOWS he couldn't do before: Take me down. So Seven is my chance to shut him up once and for all. My chance to not only regain the HWF title but to prove that he did NOT beat me, and that he CANNOT beat me. Rykopathe: [with a total shocked look on his face] So you mean to say that this is more than just winning another accolade? It means more to you to beat me than it does to win the title? Sterling: Of course! Winning the HWF title is just another in a long string of accomplishments. But what I want... is REVENGE. Not just on you, but on Storm as well. Him moreso. He is the REASON for this. And for that... he... will... PAY! Rykopathe: Wow, I feel so honored. For once, Sterling isn't thinking about his career. Sterling: Thanks to Storm... my career was almost ruined. You think I'd just sit back and not look for some revenge? Rykopathe: [Ryko puts his hand up towards Sterling, motioning for his silence] Now that we've heard your novel, I think it's my turn. Sterling: Fair enough... Rykopathe: I finally beat you at your own game. I finally outsmarted you. You can't accept that. You see, I used your own assets against you. Sterling: The hell you did. You paid that scumbag Storm to cheat for you! Rykopathe: Those $100,000 that I borrowed from you....that's now in the bank of Storm. I took your own assets, your own source of power, and I beat you with it! You just can't accept it. [Ryko stands up and leans against the table.] Rykopathe: And now, I'm finally going to shut you up once and for all! And you know, if I can't do that...if I can't beat you at my own game, then I might as well not be in the HWF. So I'll make you an offer. You ready? Sterling: I'm ALWAYS ready. Rykopathe: If I can beat you at Se7en, then you have to shut the fuck up. Quit whining that I'm a fake champion. Quit going on about how you're better than me. This is it. If I win, it's done. And if I lose.....then I walk out of the HWF. And I'm not talking a day...a week...a month...if I lose to you, then I'm gone FOREVER! Sterling: Hahaha then start planning your retirement, Rykopathe. I'll beat you all right.. I'll beat you, and so much more. I'll send you home in a goddamn BODYBAG! Shawn: Wait... wait... I got a better idea. Rykopathe: But bodybags don't match my purse! Looks like you won't be able to beat me, thanks to my trusty purse! [he pulls a purse out from under the table..again mysteriously] Shawn: [Shawn hits his desk again.] You gonna listen? Sterling: So say something! Rykopathe: Listen jerky...this isn't between me and you. So get your words in fast, cause there's about to be a fucking rumble in here. Sterling: You mean you're about to get your ass KICKED! Rykopathe: Can you NOT always get the last word in? God, you are like a fucking three year old. Shawn: Oh God... you know what? Do whatever the f*ck you want! Sterling: Thats better! [Ryko pulls out a dodgeball from under the table, and lightly throws it at Sterling's head] Sterling: ... The F*CK?!? Rykopathe: You're it, you immature fucking wench! Sterling: You think this is some kinda GAME?!? Rykopathe: The only kind of game that's going to be played around here is "Pin Ryko's Foot on Sterling's Tail" Sterling: Oh please... Hey, you know something? I think poor Collins is pissed off cuz we're stealing "his" show Rykopathe: Well, in that case...let him interview us! [sits down] [Again Sterling leans back and folds both hands behind his head] Shawn: Oh I'm done interviewing. I was waiting for you two to kick the shit out of each other so I could signal the security. And maybe I could get in another shot on Sterling like I did last week. So, please! By all means, continue! Sterling: I haven't forgotten that either.... Rykopathe: No, no, no....it's your show, isn't it? [Shawn takes another long draw from his smoke, exhales, and shrugs.] Sterling: Careful Shawn, old buddy old pal, that'll give ya cancer! Shawn: I hear second hand smoke is a lot worse. [Shawn blows another puff into Sterling's face.] Old buddy old pal. [Sterling starts to get up from his seat, but instead gives Collins a dirty look and sits back down] Rykopathe: C'mon....you're supposed to be a host! So let's see your hosting skills. I'm tired of watching you smoke. Sterling: You know, for ONCE, I agree with you! Rykopathe: Don't say that! People might think you are growing fond of me.... Sterling: For some reason the way you said that makes me want to vomit... Shawn: Oh I love how things have turned around. Rykopathe begins the show by calling this 'his' show, Sterling interupts - he's not even supposed to be here. And half this segment is you two immature f*cks... sad excuses for enemies - BICKERING at each other. Now, you know what these people came to see... and I know what makes ratings. So, go ahead. Let it all out. Sound good? [Shawn outs his smoke on the desk, and spits on the ground.] Shawn: You want questions? Is that what you're waiting for? Rykopathe: Oh yes! Give it to me baby! [bites his lip] Shawn: All right. Rykopathe. Why are you such a God-damn hypocrite for? Sterling, why do you think that you hide behind fake ideals? We know what Seven is about. It's about you two men and the world title. Whether you like it or not, that's what you're out there for. So, please, answer me that question. Then think again, about your anger for each other, and your reasons for going into Seven... into that main event. Rykopathe: And how am I being a hypocrite? For all I care, Sterling can have this title right now. [He pulls the belt off from around his waist, and throws it on the middle of the table.] Shawn: So then what are you fighting for? Rykopathe: To shut up Sterling! Because I hate Sterling! Because I cringe at the thought of Sterling! Sterling: I answered this bullshit already. The HWF title is secondary to plain, good-old VENGEANCE. Of course, that's not to say that I'm not influenced by the chance at being the HWF's ONLY four-time World Heavyweight Champion. Rykopathe: Oh, another accoldade? I'm surprised.... Sterling: Would you do any different if YOU had the chance? I didn't think so.. Rykopathe: I wouldn't parade around stating it every five seconds. I'm the only person to hold both the World and Hardcore Title at the same time, but how often do I state that fact? Hell, this is the first time that I have! Sterling: And it goes to show you who cares about it. The point, Rykopathe, is just what I told you earlier. Revenge is what matters to me. The title is just the spoils that come with the bargain. Rykopathe: Hey, isn't somebody else in this match? Sterling: Yeah, and rest assured that he'll die first. Rykopathe: We'll just get him out of the way, so we can deal with our own little soap opera. Sterling: Fair enough... as long as I get to avenge the loss. You know, you're more of a cutthroat than I expected. Shawn: You know that extra man is your partner, don't you, Ryko? Sterling: He'll be a dead man first! Rykopathe: I could care less what he is! He's no use to me. For all I care, I'll beat his ass myself... Shawn: Really? Well... that should be a great reassurance for him, and Sterling... huh? Sterling: I don't care one way or another. I knew when I challenged the two of them that I was setting myself up for a probable double-team. But do I care? Hell no! If Rykopathe wants to ally with me and eliminate Storm, let him. If he wants to help Storm to weaken me, LET HIM. Hell if he wants to go for popcorn and a soda and WATCH the f*cking match from ringside, let him! Rykopathe: Sterling, you're starting to bore me. I'm leaving. Sterling: Good, get out of here! I'll see your ass tomorrow night, and I'll be sure to end your pathetic career once and for all! Shawn: What? That's it? What about my ratings? Sterling: Collins, your ratings skyrocketed the second I arrived! Shawn: Well, come on! This isn't my Toronto office! It's Vegas! Break anything you want! Sterling: Why the hell not? [Sterling grins] [Sterling gets up and kicks over the table.] Shawn: [Collins smacks his head, and lights another Marlboro.] Folks... we'll see you next week... [He looks at the table.] Someone clean this shit up!! [The scene fades to commercials.] Shawn: Well folks, keep watching HWF-TV, and order Seven tonight on Pay Per View! If you haven’t ordered it yet, call your local cable company and do so! If you need more information on the Pay Per View, and How To Order, go online to THE SE7EN SITE! That’s all we have on the Corner tonight. We’re going to finish the show off with the “Of The Week’s” of some of the wrestlers participating in the Pay Per View tonight!
Tempest:
JD Brady:
Chris Davison:
David Zakin: [The sins come up on the screen, one by one, Greed, Gluttony, Envy, Sloth, Lust, Wrath and Pride. Then the Seven logo, and it fades to the HWF logo. Then we cut.]
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