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[IIWF Saturday Night] 1 March 1997 (3/3)

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Daniel Spreadbury

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Mar 3, 1997, 3:00:00 AM3/3/97

TD: It looks as though there's no way out for Warnett here... the
Sandman has that hold locked on tight!

SR: I'm telling you, Dross, Warnett is done!

[In the ring, Warnett tries to roll the hold onto the side, but the
Sandman refuses to let him go anywhere. The referee check for the
submission again as Warnett reaches out towards the ropes...]

SR: Not a chance, Warnett, you're too far away. Give it up while you've
still got a neck!

[Warnett tries to reach back, but is unable to reach the Sandman, who
pulls back on the hold hard! Big heel pop as Warnett yells out in pain!
Lord Byron casually walks up to the ring apron as Warnett tries to drag
himself towards the ropes...]

TD: And look at the look of disdain Byron is giving Warnett! Warnett is
practically being forced to look at Byron's face, and Byron is
loving every second of it!

[Warnett pushes drags himself, and the Sandman, inch by inch closer
towards the ropes. Byron turns away from Warnett with a sneer, and
walks across to the timekeeper's table....]

TD: At last, Warnett is receiving some sort of mercy...

SR: I don't think so, Dross, Byron's got the Intercontinental Title!
Hah!

[Byron snatches the title off the timekeeper and casually walks back
across to Warnett with a sneer, before goading him with it! Heel pop!
Warnett's face contorts in anger, and he fights his way across to the
ropes, finally reaching them! The Sandman holds on for a few more
seconds as Byron applauds sarcastically, and then the referee forces the
Sandman to release the hold... the Sandman starts to pull Warnett back
to his feet....]

TD: Oh my! Warnett is a house on fire here, folks!

[Warnett nails the Sandman with a fast series of punches to the
midsection, then a kick, then a headbutt, then he comes off the ropes
and nails him with a flying clothesline! Big pop! The Sandman springs
back to his feet, and Warnett doubles him over with a swift kick to the
midsection, before running to the ropes again, this time nailing the
Sandman with a bulldog! Another big pop! Warnett stands up and looks
quickly around...]

TD: What's he doing? Pin him Marty!

[Warnett sees Byron at the head of the aisle, still holding the
Intercontinental Title, and vaults over the top rope, quickly running
towards the sneering aristocrat! Big pop! Warnett and Byron start
jawing as the referee starts counting him out... Byron starts to back
off up the aisle and Warnett follows, passing a camera crew...]

MW: I'm warning you Byron, you stay out of my business!

LB: Like you stayed out of mine? Stay away from DeWinter, fool...

MW: What's the matter, Byron? Can't handle that she's attracted to me
more than you? [Big crowd pop!]

LB: You? [Byron laughs] The only thing that she's attracted to you by
is this!

[Byron holds up the title to a big heel pop. In the ring, the Sandman
throws the referee out of the way, breaking the count, and charges down
the aisle after Warnett.. Warnett balls his fists and leaps at Byron,
but is cut short by an axehandle from the Sandman! Big heel pop! Byron
nails Warnett with the title, then drops it and heads back with a sneer,
and the Sandman grabs Warnett by the hair and runs him back towards the
ring, sending him headfirst into the ring apron before throwing him back
inside..]

TD: Wow! What a scene we just saw there! The Sandman just barely
managed to beat the count back to the ring!

SR: He wants this title bad, Dross, and he's gonna get it! Warnett is
out cold!

[The Sandman pulls Warnett up into position for a piledriver... and
nails it! Big heel pop! Instead of making the cover, however, the
Sandman pulls him up again, and hits him with another piledriver!
Another heel pop! The Sandman pulls Warnett up again, backing him into
the ropes, grinning at the crowd, before whipping him across the ring,
and catching him in a clawhold on the rebound...]

TD: This could be it... this could be the Nightmare coming up....

[The Sandman grins, and lifts Warnett up into the air... and Warnett
swings both feet up and dropkicks the Sandman in the face! Big crowd
pop as both men go down!]

TD: Warnett countered the Nightmare! How did he manage to do that?

[The Sandman staggers back up to his feet, as does Warnett... the
Sandman goes for a doubles axehandle, and Warnett catches him with a
shot to the stomach! Pop! Warnett kicks the Sandman in the stomach
again, and takes him over with a gutwrench suplex! Warnett makes the
cover... - 1 - 2 - kickout by the Sandman! Warnett pulls him up again,
Irish whips him into the ropes and catches him with a belly-to-belly
waistlock..]

TD: Northern lights suplex, and Warnett's bridged well, this could do
it... One! Two! Thr...

SR: No! No! The Sandman kicked out!

TD: Warnett pulls the Sandman up again... thumb to the eye by the
Sandman!

[The Sandman nails Warnett with a series of hard blows to the back of
the neck, before whipping him into the ropes... Warnett reverses, and
leaps up, catching the Sandman on the rebound with a Thesz press... The
sandman swings his legs up, catching Warnett's arms and trying to pull
him back, but Warnett leans forwards, powering the Sandman's legs
down... the referee counts... - 1 - 2 - ]

TD: Three! He got him!

[Ding! Ding! Ding!]

SR: No way! The Sandman kicked out!

[The Sandman rolls to his knees angrily, yelling at the referee as
Warnett staggers back into the ropes...]

RA: Here is your winner by result of a pinfall... and _still_ IIWF
Intercontinental Champion... Maaaaaarrty Waaaaaarrrneett!!

[Huge crowd pop as "Cold Gin" by Kiss starts up over the p.a. system,
and Warnett flips out of the ring, walking back up to retrieve the
Intercontinental title from where it was left lying in the aisle...
inside the ring, the Sandman pushes the referee back, holding up to
fingers...]

TD: It certainly was a close call, but it looks as though the referee is
adamantly standing by his decision... personally, I'm sure that the
Sandman kicked out after the three count...

SR: Not a chance, Dross. The Sandman had Warnett beat all the way
through that match. He kicked out.

TD: Hang on, Steve -- I understand there's a fire back in the locker
room area. Steve Summers is on the scene.

[Cut backstage to a corridor deep in the IIWF Coliseum. The camera
follows IIWF intern Steve Summers to the door of the White Phoenix's
locker room. Around the door is seeping very foul smelling smoke.]

SS: Guys, I'm here outside the locker room of the White Phoenix. [slight
cough] The fire staff are on their way here because of this smoke...
but I guess I ought to try and find out what's going on.

[Summers kicks the door open, to reveal Sun Tsi branding Chow on the
chest, the brand shaped like a flame. Chow is screaming "ENIGMA! THIS IS
FOR YOU!" in a maddened, pained voice. Sun Tsi, startled, swings the
red-hot brand at Summers, who dodges and ducks back out the door.]

SS: I don't get paid enough to deal with this!

[Summers throws his microphone down and stalks off down the hallway as a
fire team arrives, regarding the locker room with confusion. Cut back to
ringside.]

SR: Boy, I guess the White Phoenix takes losing awfully hard, huh?

TD: What a strange scene. I have no idea what that ritual is supposed to
achieve. Anyway, we must move on. The match we've got coming up now
has all the potential to be a classic. One of the IIWF's greatest
ever superstars, the Subway Psycho, gearing up for a World Title
shot at Ring Wars III, takes on the man some believe is the herald
of a new age in the IIWF, Creed.

SR: Yeah, sure. If Creed's such a "hot prospect", then why's he wasting
his time with the Sewer Rat?

TD: There's really no pleasing some people, is there?

SR: What, me? Just give me some blood and I'll be fine.

TD: [sighing] Let's go over to ringside...

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Subway Psycho vs. Creed
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
WRITER: MP

RA: This next contest is scheduled for one fall, with a thirty-minute
time limit. Introducing first, weighing in at 276lbs and hailing
from Oakland, California, accompanied to the ring by the "CEO" Jack
York Montgomery, here is.... Creeeeeeed!!

[The arena lights dim and Creed's voice plays out over the PA system...]

PA: Anyone, anytime, anywhere...

[Huge awed pop as Creed steps out into the aisle to the strains of
Beethoven's "Ode to Joy". Creed strides quickly towards the ring, eyes
focused, as the CEO walks in front of him, giving last minute advice and
instructions...]

TD: Creed's looking incredibly focused here tonight... this man is
_intense_!

[A fan in the crowd takes the awed silence as a chance to yell out
"Who's your daddy?" at the top of his lungs, and the crowd catches on,
yelling out "Mad Dog! Mad Dog!" The CEO looks around irritated, but not
a flicker of emotion crosses Creed's face...]

SR: I'm suddenly getting that deja vu feeling again...

[Creed steps into the ring, raising his gloved left fist into the air,
his face remaining completely impassive, before backing into his corner.
The CEO walks along the ring apron, and Creed nods his head as the CEO
shouts final words of encouragement at him.]

RA: And his opponent... [big crowd pop] weighing in at 255lbs and
hailing from the subways of New York city, accompanied to the ring
by Tiger Claw, here is "The People's Champion"... The Subwaaaay
Psyyyyyyychooooooo!!

[Huge crowd pop as 'Crazy Train' by Ozzy Ozbourne starts up over the PA
system, the lights dim and The Subway Psycho enters the aisle arms
raised. He turns around, beckoning Tiger Claw forward, who is hobbling
forward on his crutches, and turns to look around at the cheering fans,
before running up the aisle, slapping the fans' hands as he goes...]

TD: Well, Creed is definitely going to have to be focused on the Psycho
here tonight. This may be his biggest test to date.

SR: Nah...

TD: The Psycho's a wily veteran of the IIWF and you can bet that he
won't be fazed by Creed's intimidation tactics...

SR: Nah...

[The Psycho steps into the men, and Creed immediately launches into an
attack on him, clubbing away at the Psycho with a series of punishing
forearm shots as he steps between the ropes...]

TD: And a big uppercut sends the Psycho staggering back! Kick to the
midsection by Creed, Irish whip into the ropes, the Psycho drops his
shoulder... uh oh...

SR: Now that looks like a train wreck to me...

TD: You are _not_ going to take Creed down with a shoulderblock.

[The Psycho pushes himself up, as Creed invites him to try again. The
Psycho does so, and Creed brings his foot up, doubling the Psycho over
before hitting him with another uppercut that sends the Psycho
staggering back again, and he falls on the ropes, tying his arms up...]

TD: The Psycho's trapped! What's Creed going to do now?

SR: Easy. Nail him, and hard. I would.

[To the surprise of the crowd, Creed does exactly that, raining
axehandle blows down on the trapped Psycho! Big mixed pop! The Psycho
lashes out with a foot at Creed's midsection, Creed catches it, and
lashes out with a clothesline that flips the Psycho out of the ring!
The Psycho dangles from the ropes for a second, before falling to the
floor outside...]

TD: I think the ropes took most of that blow away, the Psycho landed on
his feet...

[The Psycho pulls himself back onto the ring apron, and Creed lashes out
with another big punch... The Psycho ducks, ramming his shoulder into
Creed's midsection, doubling him over, and then flipping over the top
rope, catching Creed in a sunset flip! Big pop! Creed fights to keep
his balance, then balls his left fist and sends it driving down at the
Psycho's head...]

TD: The Psycho moved out of the way at the last second! And he catches
Creed in a reverse cradle..!

[The referee dives into position and counts... - 1 - Creed's kickout
almost sends the Psycho flying into the ref! Both men roll to their
feet, and Creed launches himself forward, catching the Psycho with a
huge diving clothesline! Big pop! Creed pulls the Psycho to his feet,
and slips him into a bulldog headlock, twisting the hold in tight...]

TD: Creed, maybe looking to try and slow the pace of the match down now.

[The CEO slams his hand down on the ring apron, and yells instructions
at Creed as the Psycho waistlocks him and tries to push him forwards and
across the ring. It looks like he's trying to push a block of granite.
Creed responds by twisting the hold even tighter, and the Psycho drops
to one knee... big crowd pop!]

TD: Creed certainly is an awesome physical specimen... He puts me in
mind of a panther.. 275lbs of wickedly co-ordinated muscle...

SR: [sarcastically] You what?

TD: Sorry, was I talking out loud?

[The Psycho pushes himself up to his feet again, and braces himself,
pushing into Creed and swinging forearm blows into his lower back.
Creed staggers forwards, and is pushed into the ropes. The referee
calls for the clean break, and Creed responds by sticking his thumb in
the Psycho's eye, and then switching into a facelock, using his weight
to push the Psycho down to his knees on the canvas... heel pop!]

TD: Despite the measured approach, Creed's showing an aggressive streak
here as well! The referee had better monitor that facelock closely,
and make sure there isn't a choke...

[Creed twists the hold in tight, and the Psycho recovers slightly,
pushing himself up to one knee. Creed responds by bringing his right
hand crashing down across the Psycho's back, repeatedly smashing him
back down to the canvas... The Subway Psycho slaps the mat in
frustration, and yells out angrily when the referee asks for the
submission... Creed twist the hold in again, and the Psycho pushes
himself back up, responding to Creed's clubbing blow with a fist to the
midsection! Big pop! Creed steps backwards slightly, and nails the
Psycho with another forearm! The Psycho responds by slamming a series of
punches into Creed's gut, and then lifting him up into the air, bringing
him crashing down across his knee in an inverted atomic drop! Big pop!
Creed staggers backwards, and the Psycho dives forwards, catching him
with a hard running clothesline that knocks him off his feet! Another
big pop! Creed flips to his feet as the Psycho comes off the ropes, and
gets hit by a flying shoulderblock from the Psycho! The Psycho drops
down into a pin, hooking the leg... - 1 - 2 - Creed throws him off!
Creed rolls to his feet, and is immediately taken down by another
running clothesline! Creed quickly responds by rolling out of the ring,
and the crowd goes wild!]

TD: Creed's bailed out, it looks as though he doesn't want any part of
the Psycho here...

SR: Hah! And look at the referee trying to hold the Psycho back!

[Creed starts to walk around the ring, and is met by the CEO, who starts
to give instructions again... Creed nods, and steps up onto the ring
apron, to be met by a big fist from the Psycho! Big pop! The Psycho
grabs him in a facelock, and sends him back into the ring with a
vertical suplex! Another big pop! Creed rolls to his feet, and is sent
straight back down by a bodyslam from the Psycho! The Psycho runs to
the ropes...]

TD: Oh come on ref, the CEO just caught the Psycho's leg!

[The Psycho looks down at the CEO, and the distraction is enough for
Creed to send him spinning over the top rope with a clothesline to the
floor outside! Big mixed pop! Creed wastes no time, stepping through
the ropes to the ring apron, before leaping off with an axehandle blow
that sends the Psycho crashing into the guard-rail! Creed picks him up
quickly, and rolls him back into the ring...]

SR: You know, Dross, I'm starting to like Creed's attitude here
tonight...

[Creed picks the Psycho up, and sends him into the ropes with an Irish
whip, before sending a hard kick into his stomach on the rebound, and
quickly locking in an abdominal stretch, twisting the Psycho over his
hip.]

TD: Another submission hold from Creed. I don't think that he'll get a
submission from the Psycho, but he's methodically wearing him down
and we've already seen the Psycho's frustration show through...

[Creed twists the Psycho in the hold, and with the free hand sends a
clubbing blow crashing down across the Psycho's ribcage. In the crowd,
the Mad Dog fan, deciding it's got too quiet, once again screams out
'Whose your daddy?' the crowd responds loudly with the Mad Dog chants.
Creed remains unmoved. The Psycho however, reacts as though it was his
name called, and starts fighting the hold, trying to reverse it. Creed
raises his arm to slam another punch into the Psycho's ribs, and the
Psycho manages to twist around, reversing it into an abdominal stretch
of his own! Big crowd pop...]

TD: But Creed cuts the Psycho off short with a hiptoss! And an axehandle
to the neck! Here's a cover...

[The referee counts as Creed hooks the leg... - 1 - 2 - kickout by the
Psycho. Creed pulls the Psycho up again, backing him into the corner,
before whipping him into the opposite turnbuckles with tremendous
velocity! The Psycho staggers back out, and Creed catches him, lifting
him up in the air and whipping him around 180 degrees into a
spinebuster! Big heel pop!]

TD: Wow! What a move! Did you see the power he got behind that, Steve?
He almost drove the Psycho through the canvas!

[Instead of making the pin, Creed springs up and to the second
turnbuckle, before leaping off and placing a hue elbowdrop down across
the Psycho's throat... He covers and hooks the leg... - 1 - 2 - The
Psycho gets his foot on the ropes!]

SR: Come on ref, that was three!

TD: The Psycho had his foot on the ropes, Steve...

SR: Where? I didn't see it...

[Creed rolls to his knees, adjusting the blood-red glove, before
hoisting the Subway Psycho up to his feet... and getting stunned by a
quick blow to the midsection! Crowd pop! Creed sends an axehandle into
the Psycho's back, and the Psycho sends a shot straight back! Creed
hits him with another axehandle, and then pulls the Psycho up by the
hair, whipping him cross-ring! Creed drops his shoulders...]

TD: Kick by the Psycho sends Creed staggering back! And a kick to the
head! And another kick doubles Creed over! Faceslam by the Psycho!
And Creed rolls to the outside again!

SR: Since when did the Sewer Rat start kicking people in the head?

TD: Since he started training with Tiger Claw, maybe...

[The Psycho quickly climbs to the top turnbuckle as Creed staggers on
the outside, and comes off with a flying axehandle down onto the back of
Creed's head, sending him crashing into the retaining barriers! Huge
crowd pop! The Psycho pulls Creed up to his feet, and sends him
crashing headfirst into the ringsteps! Another huge pop!]

TD: Uh oh, The Psycho's on fire here now!

[The Psycho rolls Creed back into the ring, and leaps to the ring apron,
and then to the top rope! Creed staggers up to his feet, and turns
around to be met by another axehandle blow from the Psycho! Big pop!
The Psycho covers... - 1 - 2 - kickout by Creed! The Psycho pulls Creed
up, slips him into a waistlock and sends him crashing back into the
canvas with a belly-to-back suplex... another cover, hooking the leg...
- 1 - 2 - kickout by Creed! The Psycho pulls Creed to his feet again,
backing him into the ropes before sending him across the ring with an
Irish whip... The Psycho runs forward for a clothesline...]

TD: Creed with a cruci... no! Creed locks the Psycho into a full
nelson!

SR: And look at him drop all his weight across the Sewer Rat's
shoulders! Just like I used to do 'em!

TD: Yeah, right. Creed does have that locked on very well though, he's
practically powering the Psycho down to his knees...

[The referee asks the Subway Psycho for the submission, and the Psycho
shakes his head as much as he's able. Creed focuses all his strength
down on the Psycho's neck, the muscles in his arms bulging... The
Psycho's face contorts in pain...]

TD: That hold must really be sapping the Psycho's strength out of him...
I can't believe he can hold on much longer, Creed is putting
tremendous force behind it...

SR: He may not have to give in, Dross, it looks like he's fading to
me...

[The referee does indeed seem concerned about the Psycho, who is showing
little sign of fight... the referee raises the Psycho's arm, and it
stays in place, although weakly. Spurred on, Creed exerts more
pressure.]

TD: The Psycho's been in that hold upwards of three minutes now, and he
looks as though he's having difficulty breathing... but he simply
will not give in here!

SR: Okay, show's over. Anyone for suffocated rat? Thought not...

[The referee raises the Psycho's arm again, and this time it falls! A
worried murmur passes through the crowd, and chants of "PSY-CHO!
PSY-CHO!" start to echo throughout the arena. The referee raises the
Subway Psycho's arm again.... and it falls again! The chants increase
in volume, and Tiger Claw tries his hardest to rally the Psycho... the
referee reaches out for the Psycho's arm a third time... and the Psycho
snatches it away! Huge crowd pop!]

TD: The Psycho's starting to fight to his feet! And the crowd's one
hundred percent behind him! Look at this Steve, this is incredible!

SR: You're telling me. These peons actually know how to say words of
two syllables...

[The Psycho battles to his feet, and then, to everyone's surprise, but
mostly Creed's, drops straight back down to the canvas! As Creed's head
is jerked down, the Psycho leans back and whips his foot over his head,
kicking Creed hard in the face! Big crowd pop! Creed releases the
hold, and staggers back, clutching his nose...]

SR: Something else he learnt from Tiger Claw?

TD: I don't know Steve, I've never seen a full nelson escaped like that
before...

SR: Really? I used to do it all the time!

TD: Really? Didn't the feather boas get in the way?

[The Psycho rolls to his feet as Creed staggers forward again, and nails
Creed with a hard side kick to the midsection! Big pop! The Psycho runs
up behind Creed, driving him face first into the canvas with a bulldog!
Big crowd pop, followed by a big heel pop as a figure comes running down
to ringside... swiftly followed by another...]

TD: Here comes Casey James... and Mad Dog Watkins as well... we could
really do without this...

SR: Really? I was just getting bored! Who's your daddy?

[The Psycho whips Creed into the ropes, and nails him with a big
powerslam on the rebound! The Psycho points to the top rope, and starts
to climb just as Casey James hits the ring and nails him from behind...]

TD: We really don't need this sort of thing. This was shaping up to be a
terrific match...

SR: Hey, come on! Let Mad Dog and Casey James express themselves! It's
like... it's like... artistic license!

TD: You really make me sick sometimes, Steve, you know that?

[James starts pounding on The Psycho in the corner, just as Watkins
rolls in behind the staggering Creed and nails him with a chair! Big
heel pop! Brian Lau saunters down to ringside, a satisfied smirk on his
face as he watches James work over the Psycho... Satisfied that Creed is
down, Watkins walks over towards the brawling pair just as the Subway
Psycho takes the initiative with a swift kick to the stomach...]

TD: Oh no... Watkins has locked the Subway Psycho's arms...

SR: Oh _dear_. Looks like it's field day on Sewer Rats... Go Casey!

[Casey James rubs his chin thoughtfully and walks out of the corner,
before slapping the Subway Psycho hard across the face with the back of
his hand! The Psycho lashes out with his foot, catching James in the
stomach, and James flies at him, raining blow after blow down on the
Psycho's head! Heel pop! Behind the three, Creed starts to stir
again...]

TD: This is terrible. Casey James has The Subway Psycho at his mercy
here...

SR: Yeah. And he's going to teach him a lesson he won't forget in a
hurry: don't mess with the Syndicate.

[James lifts the Psycho's chin up and slaps him across the face again,
just as Creed staggers to his feet. Creed looks around, and sees what
is happening, and walks over towards the trio just as Casey James starts
to wind up for a Blackheart Punch... Huge crowd pop!]

TD: Creed just dragged Watkins off the Psycho, and he James hit nothing
but air! And look at the Psycho go to work on James!

[The Psycho goes wild on Casey James, smashing blow after blow down on
him... on the other side of the ring, Watkins is backing away from Creed
who pushes him hard in the chest... The Psycho whips Casey James into
the ropes, and follows through with a clothesline that sends James all
the way to the outside, and Brian Lau quickly rushes over, only to find
himself facing a crutch wielding Tiger Claw... Watkins, realising that
he's outnumbered, beats a hasty retreat, and is quickly followed by
first Lau and James, and then the duo of Creed and the Subway Psycho...]

TD: What a confrontation we've just had here... and you have to think
that Creed, whether he meant to or not, has just narrowly avoided
disaster for the Subway Psycho...

SR: Spoilsport.

TD: This one looks as though it's going to carry on back in the dressing
room area... we'll have more news on events as and when they
happen.. In the meantime, it looks as though this has been ruled a
no-contest. Fans, we're now just three weeks away from Ring Wars
III, and the card just continues to get better and better. Top to
bottom, there's never been an IIWF event with such an incredible
lineup. Right now, Larry Morton is backstage with the IIWF President
to announce more incredible... hey!

[The crowd has suddenly erupted in a torrent of jeers once more. Mr.
Robinson reappears from the crowd, decked out in the latex, just like
last time, and enters into the ring.]

TD: [over the headset] I can't believe this. Didn't security throw this
guy out?

SR: [over the headset] If it wasn't for my back, I'd get up there and
eject this guy the hard way myself.

MR: [with a fake crying face] Ahhh... I'm sorry, did I rub you guys up
the wrong way? [smirking again] Well, I live in a place... the
"loop"... That's a bit different than the IIWF... I come from a
place where...

Men don't wear pink...

Bitch slapping is illegal...

And you're man enough to step up and back up what you say...

I know someone who understands what it's like to be awesome in his
own right, and especially in comparison to... [looking at one fat
ass in the crowd.] _you_. Hell, what do I know? [smirking] You might
be great in your own right...

The IIWF might be great in its own right...

BUT... The IIWF will never seem great, when it has...

THE "LOOP"... The PCW... The DPW... The EWA... In comparison.

The IIWF will never seem great when its biggest star, Dan Kauffman,
resembles a f'n' prostitute, doing his best work on his back... Ask
him how many lights are on the ceiling, he could probably tell
you...

The stars of the IIWF will never be great, when they have to stand
side by side with the _legends_ like... Mister Robinson...

and...

SUUUUUPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPEEEEEEEEEEERRRRRRRRRRRRR!!

[Mr. Robinson hushes up after saying the word "Super"... He looks out to
the aisleway...]

The _man_, the _myth_, the _legend_...

SUPPPEEEERRRRRRRRRRR....

[Quietly] Scott!

TD: [over the headset] Super Scott?!

SR: [over the headset] That guy's got a mouth like a trucker, Dross! Get
the censors on danger money right now!

[The crowd stands in shock. The arena is dead silent... Then, the crowd
gets a first hand look at the "anti-Christ" of wrestling, Super Scott,
as he appears in the aisleway. Super Scott stops, and looks over the
vast arena... The crowd begins to boo louder and louder as their shock
wears off. Super Scott is actually smiling, a sadistic smile, as he
walks slowly to the ring...

After every few steps, Super stops and looks over the audience. Super
is looking rather casual tonight, wearing a t-shirt that simply says,
"LOOP," as well as some Levi's. After a couple minutes, the Most Hated
Man in wrestling and 6th best wrestler in the world according to the
RSPWF 200, makes it into the ring where he is greeted by Mister
Robinson. Super takes the mic...]

SS: Well, well, well... [pause] The RSPWF's Best League in the World,
eh? I just _HAD_ to check this out first hand.

[Super pauses, licks his lips, continues scanning the crowd, and finally
takes a deep breath...]

SS: I've changed a lot over the past year. Up until May of last year,
_I_ was the talk of the wrestling world. I was the EWA World
Champion, and later PCW Champion, which meant I was the BEST
wrestler in the world at the time. I also had more people want me
_DEAD_ than anyone else. You all know the story, so I'll spare you
the damn details. So why am I here? Well, you all know me as the man
that gave the "LOOP" a bad name. You all hate my guts, and my
feelings for you aren't much different. RSPWF, land of the SHITFEDS,
voted YOU GUYS, the IIWF, as the BEST league out there. That must
make you guys the best pile of SHIT in the world, and I'm SURE
you're very proud. WOO HOO! WAY TO GO, GUYS! Y'all made mommy and
daddy proud. You guys are the best, but think about THIS before you
celebrate...some shit may be better than other shit, but the fact
REMAINS... it's _STILL_ shit.

[Crowd boos some, but Super keeps on talking...]

SS: You guys were voted number one because everyone HATES me, so they
HATE what they see me as representing. They HATE the "LOOP" because
of _ME_, so the IIWF has _ONE_ man to THANK for being voted #1...
and that's _ME_!

[Crowd begins to throw objects at the ring...]

SS: For almost a year, it's been the "LOOP" against the world. Last year
we had an event called Superstar Summit, which in many ways is where
the "LOOP" was born. Well, this year, Superstar Summit isn't just
for the "LOOP." You see, the IIWF was invited...

[Crowd cheers like crazy and a few chants of "IIWF" are heard.]

SS: Yeah. KEEP ON CHANTING, dammit. You people have done a LOT of
talking the last few months, but up until now, you haven't done a
DAMN thing to back it up. NEXT WEEK, why don't you send ONE of your
men, ANY man, to take on Mister Robinson. Hell, WE'LL come here, we
don't care. NEXT WEEK, one of you assholes take on Mister Robinson,
a man who has NEVER lost a match in the "LOOP", and at Superstar
Summit II, I am ALL YOURS!

[A security guard charges the ring, but Mister Robinson stomps on
him...]

SS: You know, I haven't been myself lately. And as I look over this
capacity crowd, the more I realize something. The more things
change, the more it stays the same and yet, the more it gets
different. It's odd, but true. And that is the thought I'll leave
with everyone this week. Next week, I'll give you a WHOLE lot more
to think about. NEXT WEEK, I will be back.

[Super Scott spikes the microphone into the mat as his music begins to
play. The crowd boos like crazy... Mr. Robinson and Super Scott smirk at
each other and Mr. Robinson crawls to the outside and swats at an ugly
ass fan's nose. He smirks and watches Super Scott getting amusement out
of it. Mr. Robinson stands up on a table playing to the crowd, as he
starts to unbutton his rubber latex t-shirt, revealing a "LOOP" T-Shirt
underneath.]

TD: [over the headset] This is disgusting! These men can't just come
here, verbally attack the IIWF, physically attack both security
staff _and_ the fans, and just get away with it!

SR: [over the headset] Call the cops, Dross! This is ridiculous!

MR: Scotty... You _know_ that _I_ have fought _20_ professional fights
in my lifetime, giving me a lifetime record of _20_ wins, and well,
"0" is undefined, so I have an undefined amount of losses... Numbers
like "1", or "2", have values, "0" doesn't...

Maybe if me and Super Scott show up here once in a while, people
will start paying attention to the the little IIWF... _But_ until
then, [Mr. Robinson smacks the "LOOP" logo on Super Scott's chest.]
_Everyone_ will continue watching the "loop"...

Maybe even the "LOOP" can give the IIWF a little bit of a help...
Maybe the loop can give _wrestling_ a little bit of help... If I
could give wrestling an enema, i'd shove the needle into the IIWF...
Obviously a couple people in here think that they're a little
good... Maybe so, but who here is _great_ ? You all heard Scott's
challenge, and you see _the_ _man_...

["What's f'n' wrong with your head" by Orange 9mm blasts over the PA
system. With every hard power chord hit, Mr. Robinson flexes into the
cameras with Super Scott as they walk on down the aisle to disappear
under a torrent of boos. Security swarm into the backstage area after
them. Cut back to the announcers' table.]

TD: I'm shocked, Steve Roberts.

SR: So am I, Dross. So am I. But let me say one thing: those two inbreds
can come in here and exercise their little schoolboy fantasies about
coming from the big leagues, but listen here, assholes. It doesn't
get any bigger than the IIWF. This here _is_ the big league. You'd
better be sure that all your little nepotistic friends in the
"loop", your own private fan club, are going to help you back those
words up. Come the Summit, we'll see who the big league is. We'll
see.

TD: I understand Larry Morton is still backstage with the IIWF
President, who has been watching these events on a monitor. Larry?

[Cut to backstage. Larry Morton stands beside the IIWF President, who
turns from a video monitor showing the live broadcast.]

LM: Yes, Tim, I'm here, and I must confess that I am just as shocked as
you are. Mr. President, what do you make of all this?

DS: [looking very angry] I'm shocked that the Coliseum's security has
been undermined in such degrading fashion, for one thing. I don't
wish to make a statement on the two incidents we've seen here
tonight at this time. I'm going to review this incident and confer
with the IIWF's legal advisers to see what action can be taken
against these two men.

LM: Will you be allowing them to return next week to meet their
challenge?

DS: Under no circumstances will those two individuals set foot in
the IIWF Coliseum ever again. Mark my words. I guarantee that
tonight's incursion was a one-off aberration.

LM: Is the issue of the IIWF's participation in the Superstar Summit now
brought into question?

DS: I'm reluctant to pull the IIWF out of an event as extremely
prestigious as the Summit, but I shall be taking this issue into
advisement. The IIWF will make some kind of formal protest to the
so-called "loop" federations, rest assured. I have no further
comment on the matter, except to apologise to the worldwide
television audience which has been forced to sit through some of the
most excruciating moments of broadcasting I have ever had the
misfortune of witnessing. The IIWF remains committed to
entertainment of the highest order, and what we have seen tonight
from these two intruders by no means qualifies as such.

LM: Very well, Mr. President. Any further announcements regarding Ring
Wars III?

DS: Briefly, Larry, I can announce that following the events we have
seen here tonight, two more matches will be added to the card for
Ring Wars III: Nightwing will battle Cheshire one-on-one -- and
Cheshire has asked that this be made a "tar and feathers" match. I
have no idea what these stipulations involve, and I will be
investigating this forthwith. Additionally, "Sychosys" Joe Petrow
will battle Dirt Dog Unique Allah in a match with stipulations yet
to be named, when rules are established which are agreeable to both
parties. These are two volatile athletes, and a match between them
will be geared suitably.

LM: That's great news, Mr. President. What...

DS: [interrupting] I'm sorry, Larry. I have to leave you now -- there
are some more pressing matters to attend to.

[The IIWF President leaves the shot.]

LM: The feathers of the IIWF President well and truly ruffled. Back to
you at ringside.

[Cut back to the announcers' table.]

TD: Thanks, Larry. Two more matches added to that incredible Ring Wars
III lineup.

SR: Dross, I still can't believe that...

TD: [interrupting] Steve, you heard the producer. No more talk on-air
about that incident. It's time for tonight's main event. It's been a
long time coming, but both of the competitors in this next matchup
have been eagerly awaiting the day they stepped into the ring
against each other one more time.

SR: And it's a day Dan Kauffman will long regret. Retirement may come
early for the "Flash in the Pan" when Annis gets finished with him.

TD: I wouldn't be too sure about that, Steve. These two had an
incredible match in the tournament known as the WCeW, with
Annis taking the win under somewhat controversial circumstances.

SR: Hey, Dross, a win is a win. Any time you have your hand raised after
a match, it goes down in the books as a victory.

TD: You can bet Dan Kauffman hasn't forgotten that match -- Serge Annis
certainly hasn't:

[Cut to backstage. Serge Annis stands, missing his usual ring attire.
Instead, he wears red ring pants with black arm bands and wrist bands.
The word "HATE" is written down the side in black. Annis's face has a
white smudge of face paint on his right cheek, mixed with a bit of red.
Annis looks into the camera slowly.]

SA: Tonight, is Dan Kauffman. He is the entire reason I came to the
IIWF... so I could have my chance at wrestling Dan Kauffman once
more. You can forget about Deathbringer, forget about the Phoenix
and even Unique. Dan Kauffman, when I came ot this federation, you
were the IIWF World Heavyweight Champion. I knew I couldn't get a
match with you as long as you were champion. So I waited... and
waited... untill finally the day came that you lost your title to
Casey James... that was the day that you really became a marked man.
I beat you in the WCeW a long time ago, Kauffman... but you cried
wolf... and made my victory look cheap. I will not go as far as to
deny that I was just as beat as you were... it was a purely equal
match, but luck was with me, DK, and your shoulders were pinned to
the mat, not mine. Then you whined and cried about it, Kauffman. In
WCeW, and in the Ringlord. Well, tonight is your chance... see...
competition may be what has driven you through the IIWF... well, the
thought of wrestling you once more has been my only vision... and I
will finish you where I left off... and I will snap your neck in
vain with a chokeslam... but Kauffman... you have always...and
always will, have Serge Annis's complete respect... a first for the
Epitome of Evil. I will see you in the ring soon... and settle it
for eternity...

[Cut back to ringside.]

SR: "Settle it for eternity"?! Give me a break! Hello, Serge?!

TD: It appears we're about ready to get this match underway, so let's go
up to the ring and Sparkplug Lee.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Dan Kauffman vs. Serge Annis
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
WRITER: SO

[The spotlight falls on Sparkplug picking something out of his ear. He
quickly catches himself as "Some Days It's Dark" begins to blare over
the PA system.

SL: Ladies and gentlemen, this contest is scheduled for one fall.
Introducing first, hailing from Oakville, Ontario, Canada, and
weighing in at 293 pounds, here is the "Epitome of Evil"... Serge
Annis!

[Big heel pop as Annis strolls slowly into the Coliseum, a single
spotlight following him down the aisle. The word "HATE" can still
clearly be seen on his cheek and he sticks his face in the nearest
camera and chants "Kauffffmaaaan... Kauffffmaaaan..." almost like a
human serpent. A fan attempts to reach over the railing and grab Annis,
but a quick flick of Serge's trusty Zippo lighter sends the fan falling
back into the crowd. Annis fixes a steely gaze on the fan before
continuing to the ring. As he stands in the ring, the lights flicker,
and the voice of Deathbringer booms out over the PA:]

TD: Not again...

DB: Annis... Prepare to feel my power at Ring Wars III... The dead man
will rise and you will feel the fire that burns within him... Three
men down... and the Reaper rules the land...

[Annis simply shakes his head and shouts, calling Deathbringer out. The
lights stop flickering, and the referee tries to calm Annis down.]

TD: Serge Annis doesn't appear impressed by Deathbringer's message,
Steve.

SR: Wait until he receives it in person, Dross. Then he'll be impressed
right into the mat.

SL: And his opponent, about to make his way to the ring, is a former
IIWF World Heavyweight Champion. Hailing from Hagerstown, Maryland,
and weighing in at 230 pounds, please welcome Dan "Flash" Kauffman!

[Big face pop as the lights drops and Kauffman enters the Coliseum. A
small group of fans wear matching "Kauffman-iacs" t-shirts and begin a
"Kauff-man... Kauff-man" chant. Suddenly, Kauffman stops in the aisle
and looks at Annis standing in the ring. A smile crosses his face as he
points at Serge.]

TD: Uh-oh, Kauffman has gotten his first glimpse of Annis here. What
could be running through his mind?

SR: The words to "Baa, Baa, Black Sheep"?

[Kauffman slowly produces a Zippo lighter and mocks Annis as he flicks a
flame in the aisle. The crowd goes wild as Kauffman holds the lighter
high above his head. Annis is clearly seething in the ring.]

TD: Dan Kauffman certainly got Serge's attention.

SR: Why would Kauffman want to hear "Freebird" before a big match?

[Kauffman's flame is quickly extinguished as three fans wearing "I'm a
Sychopath" t-shirts take big swigs of their beer and then spit the beer
like a fountain at Kauffman. The former champ walks toward the three as
one of them yells, "If you don't fight Petrow, you're gonna retire as a
coward!" Security rushes to the scene to prevent any altercation. One
guard hands Kauffman a towel, who wipes it over his face before
continuing to the ring.]

SR: Ha! Those Sychopaths are everywhere! I'll bet the Man of Steel
wishes they would have spit beer on him before he retired.

[Kauffman jumps up onto the ring apron, but as he steps between the
ropes, Annis charges him and knocks him to the arena floor. The referee
signals for the start of the match as Serge climbs out of the ring and
stomps away on Kauffman, then drags him to his feet. Big heel pop as
Annis puts Kauffman's head between his legs and prepares for a
piledriver, but Kauffman powers out of the hold and backdrops Annis onto
the arena floor. Big face pop.]

TD: These men are taking it outside early on, which is pretty much what
we expected. There's no love lost between these two.

SR: There's no love at all between them! C'mon Annis, let's see Kauffman
bleed!

[Kauffman rolls under the bottom rope to break Referee Earl Alfonso's
count, then rolls back out to the arena floor. He grabs Serge's head
and rams it into the ring post, then whips him into the steel crowd
barrier. Annis goes down quickly. Again, Kauffman climbs into the ring
to break the count, but begins to climb the turnbuckles.]

TD: Kauffman is going up top! What in the world is he...?

SR: This'll be great! Kauffman isn't an aerialist. He'll get killed
trying a move like this!

[As Annis staggers to his feet, Kauffman launches himself in a moonsault
from the top turnbuckle. He hits Annis squarely in the chest and both
men crash to the Coliseum floor. Huge face pop.]

TD: A moonsault from the top turnbuckle. I've never seen Dan Kauffman do
anything like that!

SR: When you lose as many matches as he has lately, you're desperate to
try anything.

[Alfonso's count reaches seven before Kauffman rolls Annis into the ring
and then climbs into the ring himself. Kauffman stomps on his opponent's
knee. He nods to himself and then applies a falcon leglock and Annis
grunts in pain as Kauffman locks it on tightly. Alfonso drops to the
mat and asks Annis if he wants to submit.]

TD: Dan Kauffman has hit the ring on fire tonight. He's trying to put
Annis away early with this submission hold.

SR: You can't make someone like Annis submit. He's one of those guys
who seems to thrive on pain.

[Alfonso keeps checking Annis, who slowly makes his way to the ropes,
forcing Kauffman to break the hold. Both men are quickly to their feet,
although Annis seems to be favoring his leg. Kauffman dives at the leg,
but Annis skillfully puts a boot to Dan's face, then presses his boot
against Kauffman's throat, using the top rope for extra leverage.
Alfonso finally gets Annis to break the choke, only to see Annis drop to
the mat and begin pummeling Kauffman with right hands.]

TD: Annis seems to have lost his composure here. He's firing away on
Kauffman.

SR: It doesn't take much to trip Serge's trigger and it looks like
Kauffman has done it now.

[Annis pulls Kauffman to his feet, only to floor him again with a short-
arm clothesline. He throws up his arms and roars at the crowd, only to
be met with a rain of "boos." Annis makes an obscene gesture to the
crowd as he limps to the corner and climbs the turnbuckles. As he
reaches the top, he leaps toward Kauffman and attempts to drop a knee on
Dan's head, but Kauffman sits up and the Serge's knee hits the canvas
with force. Kauffman immediately goes to work on the injured knee,
wrenching it and then adding a few stomps.]

TD: Kauffman seems intent on working on Serge's knee here -- an odd
strategy when you consider Kauffman's finishers don't involve...
hey, look who's making his way to the ring!

SR: What took "Squiggly" Quigley so long?

[A mixed pop greets Chris Quigley as he walks slowly down the aisle,
watching the action in the ring as he goes. Dressed in street clothes,
he avoids the fans as he strolls down the aisle, then stands at the ring
entrance with his arms crossed. Kauffman takes a moment to glance at
Quigley, giving Annis enough time to get to his feet and hit Kauffman
from behind with a double axhandle. Quigley shakes his head in disdain
outside the ring.]

TD: A big mistake by Kauffman right there, allowing himself to be
distracted by Chris Quigley.

SR: Squiggly is winning the mind battle. Kauffman can't keep his
concentration on the match at hand -- which is good for Serge Annis.
Besides, Kauffman _invited_ Quigley to come down and watch this
match, remember? He said he had something to show Quigley --
although it isn't like we all haven't seen Kauffman get his butt
kicked.

[Annis climbs to the second rope and drops an elbow on Kauffman's
throat, then picks him up and scrapes his face along the ropes. Big heel
pop. Annis laughs maniacally and yells something at Quigley about
Kauffman "not making it to Ring Wars". Kauffman slumps to the mat, only
to be pulled back to his feet. Annis hits him with a headbutt that
sends Kauffman back to the mat, then jumps off the bottom rope and lands
with a knee across Kauffman's throat. Outside the ring, Quigley again
throws his arms up and shakes his head.]

TD: Chris Quigley does not look impressed with Kauffman's showing right
now.

SR: Neither do I. It's hard to believe this loser ever held the belt.

TD: In all fairness, Quigley missed the early part of this match when
Kauffman was dominating Annis.

SR: And we all missed your youth when you had hair, Dross. We're
talking about what's going on right now, and Annis is dominating
Kauffman.

[Annis goes back to the ropes and yells something else at Quigley, not
realizing that Kauffman staggers behind him. Kauffman scoops Annis up in
an inside cradle - 1 - 2 - kick out!]

TD: Wow, our first near fall of this match!

SR: But Kauffman didn't... ooh!

[Roberts is cut short as Annis hits Kauffman with a crotchslam. He
pulls Kauffman to his feet, whips him into the ropes and nearly takes
his head off with a big clothesline. He picks him up and again whips
Kauffman into the ropes again, catching Alfonso out of position. The
referee is knocked from the ring and does not see Annis catch Kauffman
and hit a huge DDT on the former champ. Annis covers, but Alfonso is
not there to make the count.]

TD: Annis has Kauffman pinned, but Alfonso is out of the ring!

SR: Somebody get that weakling back in the ring. This is Serge's big
moment! Look at this, he's got him... one, two, three, four, five!
Dammit, c'mon, you lousy excuse for a referee!

TD: I'll have you know Earl Alfonso is our senior official and... hey,
look at Quigley!

[Quigley climbs into the ring behind Annis and stomps on the back of
Serge's head, breaking the pin. He pulls Annis to his feet, whips him
into the corner and follows him in for a splash. Finally, he grabs
Serge's head and leaps over the top rope, snapping Serge's neck against
the rope and slingshotting him back into the ring. Quigley then walks
and revives Alfonso before rolling him into the ring.]

TD: Chris Quigley just had his way with Serge Annis!

SR: Yeah, for a sneak attack. It's just like Quigley to jump Annis from
behind!

TD: Kauffman is getting to his feet, but Annis looks like he's out cold.

[Kauffman staggers toward Annis, then sees Quigley outside the ring,
still with a look of disdain on his face. Quigley merely shakes his
head at Kauffman and then begins to walk back up the aisle. Kauffman
yells Quigley's name and then points his index finger directly at
"Quickstrike." Kauffman quickly wraps up Annis' legs in a Scorpion
Deathlock and then leans back to increase the pressure.]

TD: It's the Quickstriker! Dan Kauffman just used Chris Quigley's
trademark finishing move!

SR: Yeah, and Quigley doesn't look happy about it.

[Alfonso signals for the bell as Annis submits to the hold, but Quigley
quickly storms the ring and pulls Kauffman from Annis. Quigley gets in
Kauffman's face and the ring mic picks up "saved your ass." Kauffman
goes chest-to-chest with Quigley and "save your own ass" can be heard
over the mic.]

TD: Uh-oh, we've got trouble with a capital "T" in the ring.

SR: Hell, this is great. Let's just have Ring Wars III here tonight!

[Kauffman shoves Quigley away and steps through the ropes as if to leave
the ring. However, Quigley grabs his hair and pulls Kauffman back into
the ring, delivering a hard right hand that sends Kauffman flying into
the corner. Kauffman wipes at his mouth and sees a trace of crimson,
then charges at Quigley and tackles him. Both men begin to exchange
blows as Alfonso attempts to separate them.]

SR: Blood! Yes! Kauffman's bleeding! Get a tight shot!

TD: Somebody get some assistance out here or these men won't make it to
Ring Wars III.

[Alfonso is knocked from the ring as the brawl continues. Kauffman
pounds away on Quigley, only to have "Quickstrike" roll and begin
punching Kauffman. The Jobber Justice Squad runs to the ring and
surrounds the men.]

TD: This is out of hand! Fans, we're out of time for tonight. Don't
forget to call the IIWF Hotline for all the news that is news in the
IIWF, and tune in to "IIWF Monday Musings" for comments on tonight's
big card.

SR: There's blood! We can't sign off now!

TD: We've got to go! For Steve Roberts, this is Tim Dross, saying: so
long, everybody!

[The Jobber Justice Squad finally separate Quigley and Kauffman, but
Kauffman breaks away and dives on Quigley as the shot fades.]

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