<UWF>Brawl From The Mall 6 (Hour 1)

[Cygnia]

[Cut to a busy street... OK, it's Yonge Street again... here in
downtown
Toronto. We find "Hentai" Ryu Osawa standing out on the sidewalk next
to
a certain establishment, wearing a retro Blue Jays jersey and a
chagrined
look on his face.]

Ryu: Look, I said I was sorry already...

VO: BAWK!

[Pan over to find one pissed-off poullet with puffed-out plumage. Looks
like Ryu is having issues with his cock again.]

Ryu: I really had to pee--

[See what I mean? Ryu suddenly shoots the camera a dirty look.]

Ryu: --and I didn't see where it was I went into beforehand!

[And pan up to see just exactly where Ryu went to. It's a restaurant...

...called "EGGSPECTATION". Trice flutters his wings angrily.]

Trice: Bawwwwwwwk!

Ryu: Dammit, I had needs! It's not like I actually ate there!

Trice: Bok-bawk BKAWWK!

Ryu: Ok, so I bought ONE iced tea there... they weren't gonna let me
use
the facilities for free!

Trice: BKAWK! BOKBOKBAWWWWK!

Ryu: NO ONE YOU KNEW WAS AN ENTREE IN THERE, DAMMIT!

[Yeah, and it's a bit overpriced anyway for the quality of what they're
offering.

Ryu turns to the camera and glares.

So does Trice.

...what? Hey, I was hungry. I'll admit it! And two over easy eggs with
bacon, potatoes and baked beans isn't worth $7.95, even if it IS
Canadian!]

Ryu: [shaking his head] Dude...

Trice: [flutter-flutter-flutter] BAWWWWWWWK~!

[Trice suddenly charges the cam--HEY! OW! My foot! Keep that cock
controlled, Ryu... if I drop another camera, my union will have your
head! OW!

...

Fade to black, eh?

The Eagles' "Life In The Fastlane" fades in as we roll through
highlights
of all previous Brawls from the Mall, from the hellacious Caliban-Annis
falls count anywhere match to the Annis-Willis version including the
two
travelling through the Eaton Centre and even into the TTC subway
system,
to Kyle Lee's severe back injury as Erin McCoys wrapped up her first
women's championship, to Moe Owens trapped on the glass skylight atop
the
mall, to the falls count anywhere match between Michael Bonn and the
One-Winged Angel at the last event, and finally a shot of the bloody
Augustine and Scott Daniels during their First Blood Match. Then we
fade
slowly into the opening graphics:]

_______ __
| _ \----.---.-.--.--.--. |
|. 1 / _| _ | | | | |
|. _ \__| |___._|________|__|
|: 1 \
|::.. . /
___ `-------' __ __
.' _|----.-----.--------. | |_| |--.-----.
| _| _| _ | | | _| | -__|
|__| |__| |_____|__|__|__| |____|__|__|_____|

___ ___ __ __
| Y |---.-. | |
|. | _ | | |
|. \_/ |___._|__|__|
|: | |____________________
|::.|:. | !Live! |
`--- ---' August 6th, 2005 | ________
| The Eaton Centre | / _____/
| Hour One | / __ \
|____________________| \ |__\ \
\_____ /
\/

[Dissolve through the graphics into a live shot within the Toronto
Eaton
Centre. A throng of seemingly thousands of people are crowded around a
wrestling ring set up on the first floor of the mall, with a large
lighting rig erected above the ringside area and as high up as the
second
level. Several stores around the area include Smart Set, Bluenotes, the
Sony Store, Battery Plus and more. To the one end are escalators
leading
both up and down, and an aisle has been set up from the ringside area
back to makeshift locker rooms near the Calendar Club. A large 60 inch
widescreen television is set up at the mouth of the aisleway, no doubt
a
Sony brand given the store just a few feet away. Even inside the mall
here, the fans have come prepared with their homemade signs and
banners:

"I'm Uh... Here To See Nuit!" -- "Next Stop, Gold Rush!" -- "You're A
Dead Man, Daniels!" -- "Never Doubt L. Dan Dee!" -- "Bod Squad Fan
Since
'99!"

One camera angle begins to pan around and upwards, showing off even
more
fans crowded around the railings and balconies from the second level
all
trying to get a glimpse of the action. Even up all the way on the third
level of the mall fans line the bannisters, peering down to watch even
though between the height and the lighting rig obscuring their view
they're not going to see too much.]

DR: Welcome to the sixth edition of the Brawl From The Mall! There are
approximately four thousand fans crammed inside the Toronto Eaton
Centre,
all here to witness the UWF in all its glory!

[Up on the second level and just to the right of the escalators is the
broadcast announce position, giving the Holy Trio an eagle eye view of
the ring. David Rogers is dressed in a pair of dark pants and a white
UWF polo shirt, while seated next to him is Amy Marshall in a pair of
low
rise jeans and a Maple Leafs baby tee. Sam Steeley sits on the other
side of Amy, in his usual jeans, Pride t-shirt and leather jacket that
we've all become accustomed to.]

DR: Good evening everyone, welcome to Brawl From The Mall 6! I'm David
Rogers, along with the lovely Amy Marshall and the inimitable Sam
Steeley
here for what promises to be one exciting night of action.

AM: This is going to be an unforgettable night guys. We're back home,
we've got a great lineup and the Eaton Centre always makes for an
interesting atmosphere. And we're so close to Gold Rush, everyone's
going to be looking for that extra bit of momentum to carry them into
the
biggest show of the year.

DR: Indeed, we're here at the Eaton Centre and if you can show Greece
on
screen, you'll see that everyone is getting into the Brawl from the
Mall
spirit!

[The camera pans over to Greece. Now, normally, such an action would be
required to be accompanied by a TV-14 rating...or in some cases, a TV-M
rating, like the time Jenna Jameson and Brianna Banks showed up and
hung
out in Greece. If anyone remembers that Rampage...well let's just say,
it's true, Jenna loves Brianna...

Anyway, Greece is earning a TV-G rating today.

Why?

Because they're in suits and ties.

Indeed, all of Greece is dressed in business clothes. The men wear
slacks, ties, and brown or black shoes, while the girls are all wearing
blouses and skirts! Laid out among Greece are a series of long tables,
and on the tables are various papers, pens, and laptops. The Greeks are
also using cell phones and PDA's (and yes, a few iPods are present) as
well. The reason for this sanity is a banner hanging above Greece...

...CAREERBUILDER.COM.]

DR: Greece, of all people, is sponsoring a job fair today here at the
Brawl from the Mall...and apparently taking it VERY seiously, as they
also have people here in the crowd and elsewhere in the mall handing
out
fliers and taking resumes!

AM: A few weeks ago, Luke Kinsey made a comment directed towards Chris
O'Brien regarding Career Builder...and it looks like, in true
Fraternity
Boy fashion, O'Brien and Brian McKenzie decided to run with it!

SS: It doesn't bother anyone that Greece, and by extension the Frats,
are
getting CORPORATE sponsorship? For God's sake, imagine the 401K plan!
All the money would be invested in Guinness!

AM: Sam, the Frats DO have corporate sponsorship. Guinness, in fact.
Along with Coors, Miller Brewing Company, Heineken, Vivid Video, EA
Sports, Vivendi Games, Blizzard Entertainment, the Fraternal Order of
Police...

SS: The Fraternal Order of Police?!?

AM: I'm guessing it's a play on "know thy enemy."

SS: Or McKenzie and O'Brien saw the word "fraternal" and didn't read
the
other two important words...

[The venue is suddenly lit up by the sounds of a wild guitar riff for a
hot second until...]

# ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR! #

[..."Survival of the Sickest" by Saliva kicks into high gear, sending
the crowd at the Eaton Centre into a mild state of shock, as the place
is abruptly bathed in darkness. Spotlights randomly flash on and off,
strobe lights turn on and off, the arena lights flicker on and off as
the song keeps on rocking, sending the crowd into a seizure like state
of being.]

# I'm the hand in Mona Lisa's dress, #
# I'm the smile on every criminal you'll ever acquit. #
# I'm the things you've done you'll never admit. #
# 'Cause one hand is on the bible and the others in shit.#

# Right NOW! #

[At "NOW!", The Illuminati burst through the entrance way, The J~! Man
leading the way. After Joey~! comes the rest of the squad, with Andrew
Tucker and Mike Sebastian behind him, L. Dan Dee and Olivia Michaels,
and finally Luke Kinsey, flanked by Ron Martin and Jessica Marshall.
Joey~! is resplendent in a silvery sequined vest and bowtie,
Chippendale's style, and black warmup pants, holding the mahogany cane
with the marble "J" on top of it as always. He stops and turns on one
foot, pointing to Strictly Busine ss with the cane. "Money Driven" Mike
Sebastian stands just ahead of his tag team partner, clad in a black
three-piece Armani suit, his eyes shielded by a pair of dapper-looking
all black sunglasses, every piece of his short blonde hair in perfect
place. His partner, Andrew "Flash" Tucker, is clad in a pair of black
pleated slacks and a red collared shirt, tucked in at the waist. His
black dress shoes are polished immaculately. His long blonde hair is
pulled back into a tight pony tail. A casual, yet cocky smirk plays
across his face.]

# Your face is in the crowd #
# I'm shouting out loud #
# The one you counted out of the game!#

# Oh wow #
# Take a good look at me now! #
# Should have never had a doubt, #
# Is that you I hear screaming my name? #

[L. Dan Dee is wearing black dress slacks, some nice shoes, and a dark
purple button-down shirt. To complete his attire is the uchador mask
covering his face. Olivia M ichaels is wearing a bussiness skirt,
business jacket, and a pair of high heels. Olivia walks to the ring
with a smirk on her face as L. Dan Dee trails a few steps behind her.]

# I'm a roller, I'm a rider #
# Number one motherfuckin' survivor. #
# So move over, I'm the driver, #
# And I'm high and I'm gonna keep getting higher #

# Yeah, yeah, yeah #

[Bringing up the rear is the Loose Cannon himself, in blue jeans,
engineer boots and the original Ego MAX t-shirt from some three years
ago. He jumps up to high five the monstrous Ron Martin, who is
similarly
wearing blue jeans, with a black leather vest and fingerless gloves. On
Kinsey's otherside is one Jessica "Fatality" Marshall, wearing a plaid
Catholic school girl's uniform, complete with saddle shoes and knee
high
white socks, along with a red headband pushing her hair back.]

SS: Ahhh, Catholic school girl's... my biggest regret.

# I'm the one you thought tha t you could erase #
# But a predator that's faster than the food that he chased. #
# When you fall off the horse you brought to the race, #
# I'll be the one who's flying by you kickin' shit in your face #

[As a single entity, the entire Illuminati saunter down the aisle at
their own pace, nearly filling the aisle up with the sheer amount of
people. Joey~! tries to convince Fatality to skip down the aisle to no
avail, as Kinsey talks with Andrew Tucker. Martin brings up the rear,
evading the hands of the fans and keeping his eyes on the prize. Olivia
and LDD reach the ring first, and LDD slides into the ring as Fatality
smacks Joey~! upside the head, who quickly takes off down the aisle and
hops onto the apron, sitting on the middle rope to allow Olivia easy
access. Fatality is next, walking up the steps and ducking into the
ring, shooting a look at Joey~! as he tries to catch a glimpse of the
goods. Tucks and Sebby join Kinsey on the apron, and in unison they
duck into the ring. All four main men -- LDD, Tucker, Sebastian and
Kinsey -- ascend individual turnbuckles as Ron Martin throws one leg
and
then the other over the ropes.]

DR: One of the most impressive groups of talent the UWF has ever seen,
guys.

SS: And he's just talking about Fatality. I wonder what secrets that
jumper can tell.

AM: How to repel the advances of men who climax prematurely.

SS: Heh, not if she went to Catholic school.

# Right NOW! #
# Your face is in the crowd #
# I'm shouting out loud #
# The one you counted out of the game! #

# Oh wow #
# Take a good look at me now! #
# Should have never had a doubt, #
# Is that you I hear screaming my name? #

[All four men hop off the turnbuckles, then Kinsey holds his hand up to
stop the music and signals for a microphone, dutifully brought over by
Joey~!. Standing in front of the assembled troops, Luke grins at the
crowd, purpo sely delaying as they grow restless.]

LK: And the Lord said unto his Favorite son, "Behold, that which I have
bestowed upon thee."

Look around my friends, look at the greatest assemblage of talent ever
in a UWF ring. The Pride?

[Kinsey shakes his head.]

LK: A good bunch of guys. In fact, a hell of a bunch of guys. But let's
be honest here... they're mediocre at best. I mean, sure, Scott Daniels
is the World champion, but that's only because he got to Edwin Winston
before I did. Right time, right place my friend, and I applaud you for
that. But let's not confuse luck with skill. And Derek Martin? Well,
ha,
if only Derek's brains were as big as his muscles. As it is, D-Mart is
sleepwalking through his career, always on the verge of something
really,
_really_ good, but always about to wake up before he gets to the best
part. And Dan Kidd?

What's in a name? That which we call a Kidd by any name would suck as
bad. It must suck having a brother like Alex Kidd, who was good a
billion
years ago but is pretty much a total f[BLEEP!]in' Melvin, and you still
can't get out of his shadow. And Tom Landis? Well, Colby Greene's a
good
kid, I'll give you that.

But still, good guys all the same.

And the Youngbloods? Hey, Mikey Aug, I love the schtick and all, and
Ivey's got the grunge-goth thing going on that The J~! Man loves so
much,
but we're defined by the company we keep. Papa Legba? Are you kidding
me?
I know I stormed the mansion and took over as Big Fish in the UWF pond,
but I've heard so much about the Psycho and yet you never come out and
play. Do us a favor Mike, show that hacked up face of yours around
people
who really matter, it might get you somewhere.

I didn't really come out here to talk about the other people in UWF,
because everyone knows my favorite thing in the world is talking about
myself... but it seems as though Alex Kidd just isn't that quick on the
uptake. The last time _we_ saw Alex Kidd...

[Luke motions to the entire crew.]

LK: ...we asked of him a favor. Y'see we've got places to go, people to
see and goals to attain. Frankly, we just don't have the time to get to
every little detail. Christ Almighty, I've got to hire people to hand
out random ass kickings and talk s[BLEEP!], because my calendar is
pretty filled when it comes to being an obnoxious dick. And yet there's
so much more to do. So we asked Alex Kidd to do a little bargaining for
us, a little in good faith negotiations in return for not killing him
altogether, and what do we get?

Disobedience. Open defiance. And stupidity.

First you call me out, and then you compound the situation by calling
the entire Illuminati out?

[Kinsey sighs and shakes his head.]

LK: I'll never back down from a fight, but I won't sign your death
warrant al l the same. I'll let someone us sentence you to the gallows.

[Kinsey tosses his microphone over to Tucker. He shakes his head a bit
before beginning.]

AT: While Luke may not wanna take the job o' judge, jury and
executioner... I'd be happy to oblige.

[A smirk.]

AT: I ain't quite so sure some people runnin' around backstage realize
exactly how serious we are. This isn't some fly-by-night group that's
here today, gone tomorrow. We've all been in this business a _long_
time an' we've hurt a _lot_ o' people. An' though we're awfully busy
spending the millions of dollars we've made over the years, and though
I
don't really think you fellas are worth the two or three beads of sweat
we have to give up take you all out to the woodshed...

...I guess we'll make time.

[Tucker paces around for a few moments.]

AT: An' while we're quoting scripture... "Do not judge an' criticize
an'
condemn others, so that you may not be judged an' criticized an'
condemned yourselves. For just as you judge an' criticize an' condemn
others, you will be judged an' criticized and condemned, an' in
accordance with the measure you deal out to others, it will be dealt
out again to you." Matthew 7:1-2.

While you boys sit on your high horses making us out to be...

[Tucker makes the quotation marks with his middle and index fingers.]

AT:... the "bad guys", you should realize that everything we stand for
in
this organization... In this business... is for the better. We are the
ultimate good. Consider us a cleansin' fire o' the corruption an' greed
that has engulfed this organization. This business.

An' should you continue to condemn us while we attempt to do what is
right... Right not just for us, but for everyone else affiliated with
this sport...

...It will be dealt out again to you.

_An' then some._

[Olivia Michaels gets the mic.]

OM: I'll keep this short and sweet. What happened last Saturday was a
joke. It was ludicrous and nothing more than a fluke. It won't happen
again. _Trust me_. As for anyone else that thinks the Illuminati is a
here today, gone tomorrow organization, get that thought out of your
head.

[Olivia turns and looks at L. Dan Dee.]

OM: I'm afraid _your_ [looks at LDD] was quite underpar last week, Mr.
Dee. We can't have that if we're going to get to the top of the
mountain. Do I make myself clear?

[Olivia turns back to face the crowd. We see LDD lean into Kinsey, and
Kinsey with a puzzled look on his face that slowly turns into a knowing
smile.]

OM: Look around you. This is the very personification of greatness.
I'll keep it short. We have a surprise in store later this evening.

[Olivia hands the mic back to Kinsey.]

LK: You know, I'm glad we all came out here in agreement, because
there's
something on my chest... one of us here hasn't been holding up their--

AK: Blah blah blah.

[The crown in the Eaton Centre start cheering, as they turn to the
entrance aisle, where the three time World champion Alex Kidd stands,
mic in hand.]

SS: Woah. What's this idiot doing out here?

[Kidd is clad in his Wonderkid jersey and jeans, and staring right at
The
Illuminati with an odd smile on his face. Kinsey isn't smiling though,
because he doesn't much appreciate the interruption.]

AK: It seems that all the Illuminati are good for is talking for long
extensive periods of time, and for being lousy barbers.

[Kidd runs a hand through his clean shaven head as a reminder.]

AK: Never in my life have I seen a group dance around a subject as much
you chaps do. "We are the ultimate good". What a load of crock Tucker,
and you know it.

[The Strictly Business member mutt ers some threats and is held back by
Mike Sebastian.]

AK: I have news for you Illuminati. You aren?t the superfaction of the
future. You four are together more as matter of convenience so that you
each have someone to laugh at your jobs and rub your ego when you need
it. And you Kinsey, you have the henchmen you so desperately want. But
whatever your reasons for being together are, the whole lot of you has
managed to get under my skin just a little too much for my liking.
Literally.

[Once again, he runs a hand through his hair, reminding us all of the
welts and cuts he received from their assault several weeks back.]

AK: You see we do things a little differently around these parts.
Before you brag about being the best, you have to earn the right to it.
And what have we seen out of the lot of you? Not bloody much I'd say.

I am dead serious when I say I want the lot of you at Gold Rush. I am
dead serious when I say I?ll step into the ring alone if I have to.
I'll
do whatever it takes. And win or lose Kinsey, mark my words, your ass
will be kicked from pillar to post and there isn?t a damned thing that
your goons can do about it.

LK: Oh there isn't?

[Kidd doesn?t give Luke time to finish the sentence.]

AK: No Luke, that's enough out of you because your time for talk is
over.
And I'll tell you blokes what. Since you all enjoy a good five on one
beating, I'll give you another shot at it.

[Kidd starts moving towards the ring.]

AK: But this time, I?m ready for it. I expect it. And I want it.
Because
I'll be damned if no one stands up to you blokes, and if I have to do
it
on my own tonight? and if I have to do it alone at Gold Rush, then so
be
it?

["Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeah!"

Da-DUNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN..."KICK IT!"

And the mall erupts.

Alex Kidd stops his advance towards the ring, turning his eyes back
towards the entrance area. In the ring, the Illuminati, who were
stealing themselves for a beatdown, look around in confusion. Not at
who's coming out. But at what that person is going to do.]

DR: That music can only mean one thing...here comes trouble! And
their names are Chris O'Brien and Brian McKenzie!

[As "Fight For Your Right" plays over the PA system, the crowd near the
Careerbuilder.com Job Fair begins to part, like water from the Red Sea
or the sanitary from the unwashed. Making their way to the ring are
none other then the Fraternity Boys.

Plus one.]

AM: Oh God...oh God, no, don't do it!

[Indeed, Keith Marshall, wearing a business suit and holding a
briefcase,
leads the way for "The Drunken Icon" Chris O'Brien and "Still Trying to
Find a Name to Trademark" Brian McKenzie. McKenzie looks his usual
dapper self, in brown penny loafers, black slacks, and a dark blue
button-up shirt, along with his wire-rimmed glasses.

O'Brien?

Black combat boots, blue jeans, and a long sleeved black t-shirt with
the
words "I DRAW AGGRO" on the front.]

SS: I think your kid brother is about to get his ass kicked, Red. I
told
you he shouldn't be hanging out with the Frats!

DR: Sam, your exact words were, and I quote, "I love your brother
hanging
out with the Frats, Red. It's good to see him get out more often."

SS: I never said that!

DR: We have it on DVD, Sam, "The Worst of the Fraternity Boys, Volume
2."

SS: The Frats have a DVD? Of their WORST moments? And they have TWO of
them?

DR: They pop quarter hours. What else can I say?

AM: Guys, forget DVD's and my imminent kicking of Sam's ass for a
moment!

[O'Brien one-hops the guard rail...barely managing to land on his feet
as
he catches the edge on his way over. McKenzie and Marshall climb the
guard rail like civilized wrestler and non-wrestler, as the fans along
the railing do the standard "cheer because your idol is close and we
could be on camera" routine. Alex Kidd has elected to stay in the
aisleway, watching the developments with a bemused smirk.

In the ring, Strictly Business is being held back by Olivia and LDD,
Tucker and Sebastian jawjacking at the Fraternity Boys who have climbed
onto the ring apron. The main man, Kinsey, is hanging back, a smirk on
his face as well as O'Brien, McKenzie, and Marshall climb into the ring
the ropes as "Fight For Your Right" fades, though it takes a little
longer for the cheers from the Toronto faithful to die down. Keith
Marshall uses that time to open the briefcase in his hand, and he
removes
two microphones from inside. One is handed to each Fraternity Boys, and
it's McKenzie who chooses to speak first.]

BM: Okay, okay, gentlemen. Let's calm down here. It's five-on-one, and
those odds just aren't fair to the Illuminati. Alex, you really have
to keep yourself in check. With great power comes great responsability,
you know.

[Alex Kidd chuckles, while the Illuminati, simply, looks less then
amused.]

BM: With that said, we have a couple of things we, the Fraternity Boys
have something we need to say to these gentlemen and lady standing here
in the ring right now. First off...Keith, Joey. Joey, Keith.

KM: Hello.

Joey~!: Wassap?

KM: Not much, just standing in the ring, watch the Frats.

Joey~!: True.

BM: Now that we've all been properly introduced, let's get to the heart
of the matter. Now, as you all have hopefully noticed, over to our
left here, the Fraternity Boys are sponsoring a job fair, sponsored by
none other than Careerbuilder.com...

COB: Careerbuilder.com, the only dot.com company NOT using their stock
certificates as toilet paper!

BM: ...because we feel it's time to give something back to our fans.
Now, for years, we have encouraged our fans to partake of the college
lifestyle. Eat. Drink. Do drugs. Sleep with women. Play Playstation
all day long. Watch TV.

[Pause.]

BM: Wait, Chris, why are we giving something back to our fans? I mean,
that lifestyle does sound pretty good.

[O'Brien leans into McKenzie's ear and whispers. The microphones catch
up a few words, namely "money," "health," and "Donna."]

BM: Oh, yeah. Well, for whatever reasons, Chris and I have taken it
upon
ourselves to help our fans up to the next level. Mainly, a level that
doesn't involve as much bad health food, less drugs, less TV, and in
the
end, more hot women willing to sleep with you and top-shelf booze. A
level that says "I can function in polite society until it's time for
Happy Hour, at which point Tummafi has better social skills then I do."
And a level that says "your mortgage has been approved."

Namely, we want our fans to get real jobs.

DR: Well, I guess that the Frats are growing up...somewhat...

BM: And this has all been brought about...by you.

[McKenzie points to Luke Kinsey when he says this. Kinsey, who was
mocking the Boys by pretending to nod off onto Olivia's shoulder, now
raises his head, and stares at the former "First American Badass".]

BM: See, Luke, a few weeks ago, you made a comment about
Careerbuilder.com and how certain wrestlers around here needed to use
it. I forget the exact context you used the statement in, because I
was busy licking body shots off of Donna Tetreault's stomach. Man,
she's
got some nice abs...

[To O'Brien.]

COB: True.

[To Kinsey.]

LK: True.

[To Joey~!]

J: Yay for objectifying women!

[To Sam.]

SS: True.

[To Dave.]

DR: True.

[To Amy.]

AM: True.

DR: ...

SS: ...

COB: ...

AM: What, I can't call it like I see? Nice abs, but she's still a
bitch.

BM: ...but luckily, Chris here was into his fifth fifth of Absolut and
recalled the statement through a haze. A couple of fifths later, Chris
and I came up with the idea for this job fair. Now, so far, it's going
pretty well. We've placed some people, and we've got leads for everyone
else, and once this is all said and done, we're all going to Wayne
Greztky's restaurant to get hammered and watch the Leafs kick a little
Senator ass.

[Cheap hometown pop!]

COB: I still hate Eric Lindros...

BM: Hush you. Anyway, now, because you, Luke, were the inspiration for
this little bout of non-insanity, we went ahead, and we found the ideal
jobs for every single person here in the Illuminati!

[A 'oh damn' pop from the crowd, and now every single person the
Illuminati has peaked up and is interested in what the Fraternity Boys
have to say.]

BM: Now, we took everything we knew about you guys and ran it through
Careerbuilder.com. And we found out what YOUR ideal jobs would be if
you weren't wrestlers! We have it all right here in this
briefcase...Chris?

COB: Thank you, Brian. Keith?

[Keith Marshall opens the briefcase again, and after a little
rummaging,
he removes a couple of papers from the container. He hands it over to
O'Brien, who nods.]

COB: Thanks, Keith. Okay...

[O'Brien shuffles the papers importantly, before looking up at Joey~!]

COB: First...Joey~!, your skills and talents all point you in the
direction of a beloved and much maligned administrative assistant. You
do have Microsoft Office experience, right?

[Before Joey~! can, thankfully, respond, O'Brien turns in place to face
Olivia Michaels.]

COB: Let's see, Olivia...Olivia...ah, here we go. Miss Michaels, it
says here you are visabily suited to be the CEO of a major corporation.

[Michaels, who looked as if she was expecting a sexist or gutter
remark,
seems to brighten a bit as O'Brien speaks.]

COB: Yep, says here, your ability to deep with [MEEP]holes and idiots
on a daily basis and still manage to wring any little bit of success
from
them shows condirable talent!

[Cue the glare now, not just from Olivia, but from Andrew Tucker...who
is next on O'Brien's list.]

COB: Okay, Mr. Tucker...Tucker. Is that with an 'F' or a 'T?' Never
mind, it's not important. Ok...well, Andrew, your best bet would be an
exciting career in the field of financial consulting.

[Pause.]

COB: Alright, moving on here...Mike Sebastian. Ah, Mike. Yours was
easy. We just typed your name into the career builder, and we
accidentally hit 'Enter,' but this came up right away. Watermelon
farmer!

[Sebastian takes a step foward as the crowd explodes into
laughter...Alex
Kidd among them. It takes LDD to hold him back as Sebastian screams
insults at O'Brien, who just ignores them...or doesn't hear them...or
doesn't understand them...probably the third.]

COB: And now, Mr. Dan Dee, or is it Mr. Dee? Doesn't matter, really.
Well, good news. You're qualified...very well qualified
apparently...for
the adult film industry as an actor.

[Mr. Dee stops trying to hold back Sebastian, and turns to face
O'Brien,
the 'huh' factor eminent in his body language. But wait for it...]

COB: You're comfortable around farm animals, right?

[...and there it was.]

COB: And finally, Luke Kinsey...see, you were the hardest to find
anything for, Mr Kinsey. You see, you've bounced from job to
job...well,
I don't think we can call them "jobs"...from place to place. Yeah, from
place to place, and once you've been there, they're never quite the
same.
So, needless to say, your references sucked and your past employers all
seem to be unwilling to recommend you. So, we had to do a bit of
digging...um...

[O'Brien shuffles the paper again, this time looking through all of
them
with a quizzical look on his face.]

COB: ...um...Brian, do you have Luke's thing?

BM: Nope. Keith?

KM: Um...I think it's still in the briefcase...

[O'Brien steps over to the briefcase as Kinsey watches, some amusement
on
his face. O'Brien begins to dig in the briefcase as Marshall holds it,
and we can hear him muttering.]

COB: Dammit Keith I know it's in here...we had it in our hands
earlier...

BM: Let me look, dude.

[McKenzie comes over, and he starts rummaging in the briefcase as
well.]

BM: Dammit, man...

COB: Quit...

BM: Come on, I saw you...

COB: Wait...

BM: Ah...

COB: Luke, you are totally a perfect candidate...FOR GETTING YOUR ASS
KICKED BY THE FRATERNITY BOYS!

[And with that, O'Brien and McKenzie pull two objects from the depths
of the briefcase.

Two bottle of Killian's Red Lager.

*SMASH*

*SMASH*]

DR: OH MY! Chris O'Brien and Brian McKenzie just shattered beer
bottles over the heads of Luke Kinsey and El Dan Dee!

SS: Those morons!

DR: Morons they may be, but Kinsey and Dan Dee are staggered...and now
the Fraternity Boys throw themselves at Strictly Business!

AM: Get out of there, Keith!

[All of the hangers on make their way out of the ring -- that's Keith
Marshall, Joey~!, Fatality and Olivia for those counting at home -- as
Alex Kidd slides into the ring, now throwing punches with his new found
allies. Mike Sebastian gets tossed out of the ring and the Frat Boys
turn
their attention to Andrew Tucker, O'Brien bull rushing him into the
corner. The First American Badass peels off the attack and throws a
forearm shiver that catches LDD in the small of the back. In another
corner, The Wonderkid and the Loose Cannon exchange right hands, Kidd
on
the offensive, then Kinsey, back and forth until the now clean shaven
scalp of the Englishmen is driven across the bridge of Kinsey's nose,
stunning the Illuminati front man. Kinsey goes between the ropes and
whistles, getting the attention of the monstrous Ron Martin, who snaps
his head up as if he were in a deep sleep and then storms his way into
the ring.]

DR: There's just too many of them! Between the actual wrestlers in the
Illuminati and all their accumulated lackies, it's too much for The
Frat
Boys and Alex Kidd!

SS: Simple mathematics, David! There's three of them and a billion of
the
Illuminati! It's like trying to fight the Russian Red Army! There's
always another infantry somewhere in Siberia sticking a straw in a
potato, sucking the vodka out and waiting for their turn.

[Martin cleans house, grabbing McKenzie with one hand and propelling
him across the ring, away from L. Dan Dee. Alex Kidd is next in line,
eating a Mafia kick that sends him staggering against the turnbuckles.
Next in line?

Why yes, the Drunken Icon.

The Insurance Policy pulls O'Brien by his hair, away from Andrew
Tucker, and then grabs him in a chokehold.]

SS: Nice knowin' ya, O'Brien!

DR: Ron Martin has got that paw wrapped around the throat of Chris
O'Brien and lifts him up in the air, parading him ar ound the ring with
one hand! What a show of power!

[What he doesn't know is that Alex Kidd and Brian McKenzie are back to
their feet and armed with weapons -- kinda. Kidd's got the briefcase
previously vacated by Keith, McKenzie's got another beer bottle...
emptied of course. Brian tosses the beer bottle in the air, and
O'Brien,
in his heightened sense of alertness, catches it...

"CRAAAAAAAAAAAACK!"

...and crushes it. Right across Martin's head!]

DR: Chris O'Brien shattered another beer bottle, this time over the
head of Ron Martin, who drops the Drunken Icon and is staggered! Kidd
--

"WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!"

DR: -- plasters Martin with that briefcase, right across his face!
Martin's on the ropes... and gets double clotheslined up and over to
the floor!

[LDD is next, rushing at Alex Kidd and getting backdropped out of the
ring, landing on a just no w recovering Ron Martin as the Frat Boys
make
a b-line for Andrew Tucker, rifling fists at him in the corner.]

AM: Someone is _finally_ taking it to the Illuminati, I love it!

DR: The Fraternity Boys are all over Andrew Tucker! Rights, lefts,
upstairs, downstairs, forearms and elbows, Tucker's getting the ass
kicking of a lifetime!

SS: Look, in the far corner there! Never let your guard down, boyscout!

[As the Frat Boys work over Andrew Tucker, Alex Kidd gets a briefcase
across the back from Luke Kinsey, who throws him into the corner. On
the
otherside of the ring, Tucker lands hard from a double flapjack and
crawls out of the ring on impact... leaving an unknowing Luke Kinsey on
the wrong end of a 3 on 1 disadvantage. Palming the bald head of Alex
Kidd, Kinsey pushes the former World champ into the corner and
flamboyantly winds up his right hand ala Muhammad Ali... until it gets
caught by Brian McKenzie, who turns the Loose Cannon right into a Chris
O'Brien boot.

To the nuts, of course.]

SS: Uh oh, uh oh, Whitney Houston we have a problem!

DR: Kinsey's on the short end of the stick for once and he doesn't like
it one bit!

[Luke eyeballs all three men, trying to keep things under control...
until he gets shoved by Chris O'Brien, right into a waiting Alex Kidd,
who grabs him around the waist, then lifts and separates...

"OOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"]

DR: German suplex into the corner by Alex Kidd, and Kinsey hit that
buckle neckfirst! The Englishmen may have put Kinsey out with one move!

[Kinsey lays motionless on the mat, as Kidd and the Frat Boys loom over
him. The Drunken Icon has a brainstorm, though, with a surefire way to
see if Kinsey's dead...

...by kicking him in the nuts again.]

AM: Eh, he's okay.

DR: Stomp-a-thon by all three men! Kinsey's finally getting a little
payback for his actions! Kidd lifts Kinsey to his feet and whips him to
the ropes- DAMMIT!

SS: Ha!

DR: Ron Martin, that massive Insurance Policy, pulled Kinsey out of the
ring before any more damage could be done!

[The crowd boos like nuts as Ron Martin throws the Loose Cannon over
his
shoulder and walks back up the ramp, the rest of the Illuminati already
gone. The Frats and Alex remain in the ring, and a huge pop rains down
from the crowd on all levels as we cut back to the announcers.]

DR: My god, what a way to start off tonight's show! The Illuminati were
pushed back by the trio standing triumphant in the ring, that's got to
get under the skin of Luke Kinsey and company.

SS: It's not gonna last. Kidd, they shaved your head last time. Next
time they'll end your damn career. And if the best backup you've got
are
those drunks down there, you're in a hell of a lot of trouble.

DR: Alex reiterated his claim that he wants all four of the Illuminati
at
Gold Rush, and from where things stand I'd say we're looking at a four
on
three handicap match in Detroit!

AM: This pay-per-view just keeps getting larger and larger, incredible!

DR: Folks, last time on Rampage we saw the Sons of Cacophony, former
tag
team champions at the world, kidnap a member of the Hands of Death to
issue a challenge for Gold Rush. The Grimssons had set up the Descent
into Hell cage structure outside the arena and left Caliban strung up
inside it. Well now we've got footage from after the show, you could
say
it's an answer to that challenge. Take a look.

[Cut to a scene from some time after the last edition of Rampage. We
are
out in the parking lot area of the Bradley Center. It must be pretty
late, because it is well after Rampage went off the air, and most of
the
crowd has gone home. There are still a few onlookers, getting a good
glimpse at one of UWF's most historic and demonic structures ever, the
Descent Into Hell cage structure that has been assembled by The Sons of
Cacaphony. The camera slowly pans away from the crowd, to show "The
Epitome of Evil" Serge Annis standing atop the glassed in Hell
Structure.
The man known as Evil Incarnate is clad in black pants, and is wearing
a
black leather jacket overtop a black ribbed tanktop. He peers around at
the structure, and then up at the cages above.]

SA: Descent Into Hell... What a night it was. With a single match,
Caliban and I forever scarred the UWF faithful and showed the rest of
the
world the one true meaning of the word violence. It was within the
confines of this very structure that we together wrote history.

[Annis begins to walk.]

SA: And whether history chooses to be kind to us or not, the bloodshed
that happened within these walls was true... Caliban and Serge Annis,
battling for their very survival. Some say neither one of us has been
the
same ever since...

They are right.

For it was that night that the definition of the word violence was
pushed
to an all new level. Hate, rage, blood all interwoven together, like a
symphony of destruction as these two men combated one another... And
for
what?

It was that night that The Hands of Death were created. That was when I
ripped apart Cameron Black's soul... His very existence... And I found
the beast, Caliban. On that night, Cameron Black ceased to exist, and
the
Caliban entity was reborn. It took years for Caliban to shatter through
the empty shell of Cameron Black, but when it did, things changed. You
didn't even need to see it. You could feel it. The black cloud of evil
gave way to the light. Why? Because it didn't have to hide in the
shadows
any more. Oh no... The Hands of Death are above that now.

All of the screams, all of the pain that we have inflicted... The
carnage. That is what we feed on. Fear is a powerful ally, and the UWF
has provided us no shortage of that... Heh heh...

[Serge stops and glances around the structure again.]

SA: October, two thousand and one shall forever go down in history as
the
blackest day in UWF history...

[Annis stops as he reaches a hole in the glass pit.]

SA: And now... two ingrates wish to open Pandora's Box and bring it all
back again.

Grimssons, have you any idea the death sentence you two have bestowed
upon yourself by breaking out this structure? You surely have no idea
what it's contents will do to a person... And I'm not talking
physically.
I mean mentally.

[Annis kneels down and grabs a hold of the edge. Using his strength, he
slowly lowers himself down into the pits of Hell section.]

SA: You seek vengeance... But what you have unwillingly done is signed
your death sentences... You two do not have what it takes to combat us
in
the ring, let alone in here.

[There is suddenly a loud howl of pain and anger... Annis slowly
grins.]

SA: And you certainly haven't made nice with Caliban tonight... Heh
heh...

We accept your challenge Grimssons, but it doesn't start at Gold Rush.
It
starts the moment I walk over there and unchain The Freak from the
confines you put him in.

Cali: GEEETTTT MEEEE DOOOOWWWWWNNNNNN!

[The voice is almost feral...]

SA: Are you two truly prepared for what you think you seek?

Either way, it doesn't matter. The chain of events has begun, and now I
will destroy you two as I did Cameron Black and KK...

[A cold smile.]

SA: Those were the days.

Cali: ANNNNNNNIIIIISSSSSSS!

SA: Only problem is Grimssons, there was a beast within Black worth
destroying him for... This time, I'll do it to you two just for the fun
of it... And since there's nothing inside worth saving, there's nothing
not worth destroying... Heh heh heh... We'll be seeing you Grimssons...
Sooner than you think.

[Annis steps towards the snarling sound of Caliban's voice, and out of
frame. Cut back to a live shot inside the Eaton Centre.]

DR: Gold Rush, Descent into Hell. The Hands of Death against the Sons
of
Cacophony, in maybe one of the most violent contests we'll ever
witness.

AM: The first one damn near ended Caliban's career, and did end his
manager's. Why on earth would any of them agree to go through another
one?

SS: One simple reason, Amy. To end it. Maybe to end everything.

DR: Let's head to the ring for the first match tonight.
_______ ___ __
| _ \' _| |_.--------.
|. 1 / _| _| |
......................|. _ \__| |____|__|__|__|......................
|: 1 \ Writer: MB
|::.. . /
'-------'

OPENING SINGLES MATCH:
The Mercenary versus Paul Wong
........................................................................

DH: The first contest of the evening is scheduled for one fall!
Introducing first...

["Peter Gunn" starts up to a loud pop, as the familiar music brings out
a
large man dressed in knee-length trunks and white boots, along with a
white jacket and grey fedora hat. Black Ray-Bans complete the look, as
he steps out from the backstage area and into the spotlight.]

DH: From Denver, Colorado, weighing in at two hundred and seventy-six
pounds...

PAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUL WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONG!

[Wong begins to walk to the ring, slapping hands with people in the
crowd
along both sides of the smaller-than-usual aisleway. All around him,
fans cheer heartily for the former member of the Machines and after he
steps through the ropes into the ring his music begins to fade out.]

SS: No Harper here I see.

AM: And you can thank Brian McKenzie for that.

SS: Next time I see him, I will.

DR: You realize he was just out here a couple of minutes ago right?

[The crowd quiets down as the sound of helicopters flying overhead
comes
over the PA system, and then after just a few seconds they fade away,
replaced by machine-gun bursts and then a whistling sound. Four loud
booming sounds gives way to "Some Heads Are Gonna Roll" by Judas
Priest,
and as smoke begins to fill the entranceway a figure slowly steps
through
the portal.]

DH: And his opponent! From the Bunker, weighing in at two hundred and
sixty-five pounds...

THE MMMMMMEEEEEEEEEEEERCENAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!

[Merc makes his way right through the smoke and starts down the aisle
to
the ring but stops to look over the crowd, soaking in their reaction.
Getting his fill, he makes his way down to the ring, ignoring the fans
that reach out to him, focused totally on the task at hand. He slowly
climbs the ring steps, and gets into the ring. Wong and Merc exchange
looks at one another, neither one all that impressed.]

DR: Well this should be an interesting way to start off the matches
here
at the Eaton Centre, this is going to be far from a technical showdown
but there may not be two other wrestlers on the roster with the sheer
with as much intensity and straight-on brawling skills.

[As the bell rings, Wong moves towards the Mercenary and tries to lock
up
with him, but an immediate thumb to the eye stops him and allows Merc
to
drive an elbow into Wong's nose. With a second and third shot Merc
sends
Wong to the corner and tries to run in with a kneelift, but Paul
sidesteps it and catches his opponent with a shoulderblock of his own.
He tries to pick Merc up and slam him to the mat, but a headbutt causes
him to fall against the ropes and the Mercenary flips him over the top
rope to the floor. Heel pop!]

SS: Looks like Merc's trying to send a message to a certain little punk
with a chip on his shoulder.

AM: I wasn't aware you and he had spoken.

SS: I'm talking about Marley!

DR: Merc to the floor, drives a knee into Wong's thigh, and backs him
up
into the dasher boards. Wong with an elbowsmash of his own!

[The two men pound away with fists back and forth at each other,
neither
one getting a lot of momentum until Wong blocks a clothesline and sends
Merc into the ringsteps and he goes crashing over them. Wong comes
after
him and pulls Merc up, throwing him back into the ring and then follows
just beating out the ten count from the ref.

The crowd cheers as Wong sets Merc up and catapults him to the
turnbuckles in the corner, with a schoolboy rollup following as he
staggered backwards...

1!

2!

Kickout!

Merc escapes and rolls to the corner, as Wong gets up and tries to run
in
with an avalanche Merc stuns him with a foot to the gut and after
swinging behind him lifts Wong up across the top rope, facing out to
the
crowd.]

AM: What on earth is Merc doing? Neither of these guys are what you'd
call high risk daredevils, but he's actually climbing to the second
rope...

DR: I don't know, but whatever it is I think... Oh no.

[Merc, standing on the second rope, powerlifts Wong up as if for a back
superplex. But to the shock of the crowd, he instead hits an atomic
drop
on Paul... RIGHT ON TOP OF THE RINGPOST!]

OH NO!

SS: ENEMA!

[The crowd gasps, and some with sympathetic groans as Wong shuts his
eyes
and collapses back into the ring after Merc hops down. The Mercenary,
not concerned with the growing dislike by the audience, drops a knee
into
Paul's throat. As he gasps for breath Merc hooks a leg...

1!

2!

KICKOUT!]

DR: Escape by Wong, Mercenary now with a chinlock applied, dragging
Paul
back to his feet.

AM: I'm amazed he can stand after that atomic ringpost drop... that
just
wasn't right.

[Merc pulls Wong back on his feet and drives a knee into the small of
his
back before throwing him into the ropes and catching Paul with a
clothesline. He goes for a headbutt, but Wong greets him with a forearm
instead and a whip to the ropes himself. Off the rebound, Wong nails a
tilt-a-whirl powerslam that draws a loud pop, but he can't bring
himself
to make the cover and instead rolls to the ropes and stands up.]

SS: Wong's too soft to go for the killing blow.

AM: Well given that Merc is using everything but the kitchen sink in
this
match, you can't exactly blame Paul for being a little off his game.

SS: No, you can thank Brian McKenzie for that.

AM: Seriously, when did you start getting warm fuzzies for Brian
McKenzie?

SS: Who the hell told you that?!?

DR: This is indeed a dark turn we've taken.

[Wong grabs Merc and sets up a piledriver, but Merc has other ideas as
he
drops to his knees and swings low, catching Wong with a low blow that
brings a howl of pain and a mall-ful of sympathetic groans. Merc stuns
Wong even more with a devastating headbutt, and Paul collapses to his
knees.]

AM: Brutal! Absolutely brutal! What's going on inside the Mercenary's
head tonight?

DR: I think Sam had it right earlier, he's trying to send a message to
Rick Marley tonight.

[The Mercenary unleashes another headbutt, this time to the back of
Wong's head and with him dazed, hooks him and hoists the former tag
team
wrestler up into the air upside down, holds him for a moment...

And drives him to the mat with a brainbuster suplex!]

DR: The Payoff! Merc just used his patented brainbuster on Wong and-
wait, he's not finished!

AM: Oh my god, Merc's setting up for a second Payoff! Come on, you've
already knocked him senseless!

[Merc isn't listening to anyone as he lifts Wong upside down again, and
once again drops him straight down on the top of his skull with a
brainbuster suplex that leaves Wong motionless. Now Merc drapes an arm
across Paul and hooks the leg...

1!

2!

3!

"Some Heads Are Gonna Roll" comes over the PA system again and the
crowd
delivers a rather mixed response for the winner of the match, and the
Mercenary rolls from the ring without haste.]

DH: Here is your winner... THE MEEEEEEEEEEEEERCENAAAAAAAAARYYYYYYYYYY!

[Merc heads up the aisle towards the back, satisfied look crossing his
face as Wong starts to sit up, obviously shellshocked and still dazed
from the pair of brainbusters. Merc dissapears quickly to the backstage
area, and we cut to footage from earlier today.

We open to Level 1 of the Eaton Centre, more specifically, right in
front
of the Orange Julius stand in the food court on that level. We pan out
slightly to see Brett Greene, seated at a table near the Orange Julius.
Across the table from him is a pretty blonde girl in her early teens,
polishing off a juice. Brett smiles at the young girl as she takes the
last few sips of her drink.]

BG: Is there anything else I can get you, Susan?

[Susan rolls her eyes slightly, and takes a while to respond. When she
does, there is clearly a little twinge of sarcasm in her voice, along
with more than a twinge of a Southern accent.]

SG: Dad, I sure do appreciate the drink an' all, and I wanna thank ya
for
bringin' me here to Canada on vacation, but... ah'm a fourteen year old
girl in a giant shoppin' mall. I figure ah'll manage.

BG: Heh, I suppose you will, Susan, I suppose you will. All right then,
how 'bout you come backstage with me, and then while I'm gettin' ready
for the Greene Room, you can shop to your heart's content. All by
yourself.

[Susan smiles at her father, a disarmingly cute smile that we can be
sure
has got her out of trouble on many occasions.]

SG: It's a deal.

[Brett and his daughter then stand up, Brett collecting the empty cup
and
used napkin on the table so he can take them to a waste basket. The two
start walking away from the food court, when Brett stops cold for some
reason.]

BG: Susan... stand behind me.

[Susan stops a step later, and looks back at her father, a questioning
look in her eye. In return, Brett gives her a look of concern, silently
imploring her to back up. She turns her head the other way, and sees
why...

...standing right in front of her, glaring at the elder Greene, is the
imposing form of "Dead End" Derek Martin.]

DM: Well, well, if it isn't Brett Greene... the man whose ass is mine
at
Gold Rush.

[Brett sets his jaw firmly, and puts out an arm in between his rival
and
his young daughter.]

BG: Derek, I don't want any trouble from you. This isn't the time or
the
place.

[Martin's angry glare changes, and he smiles slightly instead, which
seems only to worry Greene even more.]

DM: Perhaps you're right... besides, I'm not the type to jump somebody
when the woman in his life is in his presence. Just ask Alex Kidd.

[A slight chuckle.]

DM: But you damn well better believe that, at Gold Rush, I'll have free
reign on you, Brett.

[Greene continues to maintain a defensive posture, as he had throughout
Martin's speech, but it turns out to be unnecessary. A smiling Martin
first waves to young Susan, then turns around and walks briskly away,
leaving a shaken Brett Greene and his daughter standing on the edge of
the food court, with dozens of patrons looking on at the recent
commotion. Greene notices all the eyes on him, and seems a bit
embarrassed to have caused a scene. He puts his hand on Susan's back,
and
urges her to walk forward.]

BG: Let's go, Susie... I think it'd be best if maybe I went backstage
and
you found your mother.

[Greene walks off quite quickly, his daughter just matching his pace.
The
camera remains in place, and the two walk out of the scene as we end
with
a wide shot of activity in the food court getting back to normal. Cut
back to the announce position.]

AM: Boy, it takes a real lowlife to threaten a man and his teenage
daughter like that. And Derek Martin has become such a lowlife, ever
since he joined up with the Pride.

SS: Woah there, that's dangerously close to slander, Red.

AM: Slander be damned, Martin didn't have any reason to approach the
Greenes, he's got Brett signed in a match at Gold Rush.

DR: We'll see Brett later tonight as well, as he's got Alex Martinez as
his special guest on the Greene Room. With any luck though, we won't
see
Derek Martin.

SS: Speak for yourself. This show could use a bit of Pride.

DR: Coming up later tonight, the Women's Tag Team Champions the
Psychommunity will be facing the Misfits in a championship match. We've
got Moe Owens standing by though with the challengers.

[On the ground floor of the Eaton's Centre Moe Owens catches up with
the
Misfits at the foodcourt bounded by Movenpick, McDonalds and Sportchek.
The gang is all there: Marissa, Dalbello, Derek, Pizzazz and Shadoe.
Although they have a title match coming up they look focussed but
relaxed
as they pass around juice bottles, fruit and little finger sandwiches.
Dalbello eyes the sushi stand near the bottom of the escalator
speculatively. She shakes her head, thinking better of the
carbohydrates
and the possible upset stomach.]

MO: Misfits, in a little while you'll have the opportunity to face the
Psychommunity for the Women's Tag Team Titles. Can I get a few words
with you about your thoughts and feelings about this upcoming match?

[The question stops activity amongst the Rage family. Derek and Shadoe
glare at Owens until he turns a slightly uncomfortable shade of pink.
Pizzazz snorts in disgust. She reaches into her purse and pulls out a
cigarette. She fits it into its long holder and waits patiently with it
poised between her lips. Without looking Derek Rage lights it for her.
The Zippo snaps shut. It is loud in the uncomfortable silence. Marissa
and Dalbello? Their expressions are blank. They look from each other to
Moe and then back again. Their behaviour is strange considering Moe
asked a fair question and usually wrestlers love camera time. Finally,
Dalbello and Marissa unfold themselves from their seats and take up
position. Dalbello leans back against Marissa, the top of her head
coming up just below Marissa's breastbone. The visual is shocking as it
displays not only Marissa's size but her breadth and musculature.
Dalbello Rage is a solid woman at a well-muscled 150lbs but Marissa is
in
another class altogether. Both are dressed in the Misfits traditional
ring attire: black choker collar connected by three links of chain to a
black bandeau top that screams for a wardrobe malfunction (yet never
does) connected by three links of chain to their tights. In Marissa's
case they are long tights. In Dalbello's case they are boy cut shorts
designed to show off the legs and her infamous ass. They look almost
like sisters. Their hair is braided up in the same swooping pattern.
Dalbello is far fairer than Marissa, but they have the same coloured
eyes
and both glow with a palpable hunger. No question about it, the
Misfits,
the greatest women's tag-team of all time, is back.]

DR: What are our feelings about the World Title match? We're the
Misfits. We like our chances. I've been a Misfit nearly since the team
started. I've tagged up with my sister Godiva, my little sister,
Lauryn,
Sierra ... and I've got to say that I like my chances to continue being
a
dominant tag-team with the big woman, Marissa Monet. Sierra and Lauryn
were fliers. They'd bounce all around the ring. Godiva was a pure
impact wrestler. The style clash between us made it harder for teams to
prepare but it also made us less cohesive as a team. I'm not going to
be
bombing you with moonsaults off the top rope like Sierra. I wasn't
going
to be powerbombing you through the mat like Godiva was. I was going to
take you down on the mat and twist you apart. With Marissa, I've got a
partner who will continue what I started. And with her strength she can
make those moves hurt so much more. When we lock in on you and start
fixing to tear one of your limbs off, believe me, it's going to come
off.
And yet, Marissa's still versatile enough to use high impact moves and
she can jump. So we're not losing anything. What the Misfits gained was
a 220lbs intelligent athlete. Do you know how invaluable that is? I
mean, she nearly equals the Psychocommunity's weight by herself. And I
know they can't hang in the gym with her.

MO: And Marissa? How do you feel about your chances teaming with
Dalbello Rage?

MM: [smirking] If you jackasses at the UWF would realise what you have
here. This woman is a living legend. She's the best of us. She's the
most respected wrestler in the Rage family. When I first started
wrestling I was training with Medusa. Medusa was no slouch. But she
told me that if I wanted to get to the next level I had to go through
Dalbello right here. There isn't a style she hasn't mastered. There
isn't a match she hasn't wrestled. Why are the Misfits infamous? This
woman right here. [Marissa slaps Dalbello on the shoulder.] And that's
the reason why we are going to win tonight.

DR: You saw us around the horn trying to work our stuff out. It takes
time for a tag-team to gel. You've got to know your partner intimately,
learn their signs. You've got to know when it's time to tag in and tag
out. You've got to understand when they're in trouble, when they're
blown up, when they're clicking and you've got to be able to predict
their next move before they make it. Tag teaming is about less than a
second. Because everything can turn around in a tag match in a second.
It took us a while to get that timing down and you saw us lose some
matches, but now that we've worked our way up to this shot, trust me,
we
won't blow it.

MO: So wouldn't the Psychommunity have an innate advantage being that
they're the champions and that they're sisters?

DR: They would normally, but you're talking about the Misfits now, Moe.
We're just at a higher level. So when we gel, we're something more than
just sisters. I mean the Misfits are tag-team specialists. The
Psychocommunity are lightweight strong style wrestlers and high fliers.
We're heavyweights. Trust me. This is about intelligence, skill and
determination versus recklessness. The Psychocommunity have to come at
us. They have to keep the pace fast and try to overwhelm us. [She
smiles.] You think that will happen?

[The challenge is laid out clearly. Moe Owens wisely doesn't bite.]

MM: We made a commitment we will wear the gold, Owens. The Misfits will
be the Women's tag team champions. The Prophets of Rage will wear the
tag-team gold and Sierra Browne is the women's champion. You understand
what's happening here? It's a takeover. A proper takeover. The family
is all together and focussed. This is the Intelligent Violence
movement.
And the Psychocommunity will be the Misfits victim. And to top it all
of
we're the home team. This is Canada. Dalbello is the queen here.

MO: But will she be the champion, tonight? Speaking of the women's
champion, where is she? I haven't seen her with you.

[The question causes the first crack in the Misfits armour. Dalbello
looks up to Marissa and Marissa frowns.]

MM: She'll be here when it counts, Owens. She's probably just upstairs
shopping at Zara's or Nine West or something. Now get out my face.

[Fade out with the Misfits storming out of camera range.

The scene opens to Starbucks, where we find "Twilight Angel" Sonya
Benedict. Dressed in her gear for the approaching match, Sonya's long
black hair, small pink streak and all, hangs straight down her back. A
bag with the De Ritz Leather store label on it lays on the table to her
side. She's looking at the menu, when Leanna Love approaches. Leanna is
clad in her wrestling attire, a solemn expression on her face.]

LL: Hi, Sonya. I was hoping that I could speak with you before our
match
tonight.

[Sonya greets the other woman with a warm smile.]

SB: Sure, have a seat.

[Leanna pulls out a chair and sits down across from her partner for the
night.]

SB: So, what's on your mind?

LL: [sighs] I just wanted to let you know that Lolita won't be
wrestling
with us tonight. After the Kindred decided to show off their little
torture footage, I'm sure that I don't have to explain why. She's still
very traumtatized by it all.

[Sonya shakes her head "no".]

SB: Myra's gone too far this time.

LL: I just wanted to let you know because I'm still going to fight
tonight and I didn't want to put you in a handicapped situation. So,
I'll
understand if you want to back out now. But I'm still going out there.
Three on one or not, I'm going to make those two pay.

[A note of stern determination enters Sonya's voice.]

SB: No. You may not know me very well, Leanna, but no way I'm backing
out.

LL: I'm glad to hear that. It seems your problems with Angel are almost
as bad as the problems that my sister and I are having with the
Kindred.

[And Sonya's eyes quickly narrow at the mention of her rival's name.]

SB: In a sense, sure. But I'm certain Angel will be there in the ring,
and believe me, there's no way I'm done with her yet. She's been trying
everything under the sun to get me mad. I wonder if she realizes what
she's gotten herself into, but either way it doesn't matter. One way or
another, she's going to suffer for what she's done. So there's no doubt
about it, Leanna; I'll definitely be out there tonight.

LL: Well, I'm happy to have you by my side. But I wanted to warn you
about something else. I know that Myra's your family but I'm not going
to
take any pity on her. She systemtically dismantled and tortured my
sister. For that, I'm going to make her hurt.

[Sonya chuckles.]

SB: Yeah she's my family. And as much as I love my cousins, Myra's had
it coming for a long time. So as long as you stay out of my way when it
comes to Angel, I'll stay out of yours.

LL: I understand. You don't need to worry. Angel's all yours. I just
wanted to be up front with you, so that you know what to expect.

[Sonya nods, her smile returning just a bit.]

SB: I appreciate it. But after what she's done to you and your sister,
I
know where you're coming from. We both have a score to settle,
afterall.

LL: Look, I'd better run. I have some last minute preparations to make.
I'll see you soon.

[Sonya nods once again.]

SB: Alright, see you out there.

LL: Goodbye, Sonya. And thank you.

[The scene fades as Leanna walks off.]

DR: Well, I suppose this is going to be a handicap match now if Lolita
Love is unable to take part.

AM: Yeah, exactly what Benedict and her sick friends wanted.
_______ ___ __
| _ \' _| |_.--------.
|. 1 / _| _| |
......................|. _ \__| |____|__|__|__|......................
|: 1 \ Writer: MB
|::.. . /
'-------'

SIX WOMAN TAG MATCH:
Angel & The Kindred versus Sonya Benedict & The Love Sisters
........................................................................

[The crowd begins to murmur as "One Last Sunset" by Killswitch Engage
comes over the PA system, and as the ominous sounding piece of music
wafts through the building it becomes apparent that this is signalling
the entrance of the Kindred.]

DH: Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one
fall, and is a six person tag team contest! Introducing first, on their
way to the ring at this time, the team of MOIRA FAITH... MYRA
BENEDICT...

THE KIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINDRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEED!

[The Kindred makes their way out from the back and down the aisle with
little fanfare, but a whole lotta booing from the crowd. As they reach
the ring their music is replaced with "Witching Hour" by Midnight
Syndicate. Angel emerges from the back, dressed in her trademark hooded
robe. After reaching the ring she removes it, revealing black one-piece
tights decorated with red and white flames on her thighs, and slowly
fade
into a dark purple halter top. The outfit is completed by blood-crimson
boots, gloves, and elbow pads. Angel stands a few feet away from the
Kindred, close enough to show a united front but with enough distance
to
give them some space.]

AM: Those two make me sick, what they've done to Lolita Love.

SS: War of Attrition.

DH: And their opponents!

[The lights dim down as turquoise strobes come on. Fast drums cue up
and
lead into the opening guitar riffs of Megadeth's "Addicted to Chaos".]

DH: From Miami, Florida, weighing in at one hundred and thirty-three
pounds... SSSSSOOOOOOONYAAAAAAAAAAAAAA BENEDIIIIIIIIIIIICT!

[Sonya Benedict steps out into the mall and raises both fists in the
air
to a big crowd pop. The music rages on as the "Twilight Angel" heads
down the aisle, working the crowd all the way. She is dressed in a
turquoise sports bra with black patterns, black wrestling tights with
turquoise patterns, black wrestling boots with turquoise trim, and fine
fishnets covering her arms and upper torso, leaving her well defined
abs
uncovered. Upon arriving at ringside, she stops and turns to face the
entrance...]

DH: And her partner! Hailing from San Antonio, Texas, weighing in at
one
hundred and forty pounds...

LLLLLLLEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAANNAAAA LLLLLLLLLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOVE!

["Survivor" by Destiny's Child comes over the PA next, as Sonya grins
and
Leanna Love steps from behind the curtains. She wears a white, sports
bra
with a sprinkling of red and blue stars adorning the chest, and white
tights, decorated with red and blue stars along the legs. Leanna
completes the outfit with white, kicking pads and matching, Asics,
tennis
shoes. Her long, blonde hair falls straight down her back. She stalks
to
ringside and joins Sonya, then together they rush the ring and engage
immediately into a brawl with their three opponents! HUGE POP!]

DR: Here we go! The Kindred attacking Leanna Love as Angel and Sonya
Benedict go toe to toe here, the ref's trying to get involved here but
these women aren't about to let him!

[Angel drives a quick forearm into Sonya's forehead and knocks her
off-balance to the ropes, but as she tries to come at her with a lunge
Sonya takes her up and over, all the way to the arena floor where she
lands with a thud. As Angel rises, Sonya propels herself out of the
ring
with a headfirst tope through the ropes, smashing right into the former
Coven member and launching both of them right into the guardrails! In
the ring meanwhile, Leanna is thrown to the ropes with a double irish
whip by the Kindred, and ducks under a standing dropkick from Moira
Faith
to charge straight at Myra with a spear tackle into the near
turnbuckles.

Leanna gets up and spins around, rushes at Moira and catches her with a
spinning heel kick that catches her on the jaw! The crowd roars as
Leanna wraps her hands around Moira's throat, only to be pulled by Myra
hair-first. Myra slings her over with a snapmare and latches on with
bodyscissors as Leanna struggles to breathe, and Moira returns to her
feet, bounces off the ropes and goes low with a devastating dropkick to
the face. Leanna is rescued by Sonya Benedict though, who returns to
the
match with a moonsault dive that catches Myra Benedict by surprise.]

DR: Wow, this is non-stop action here to start off the handicap match!
Here comes the official though, he's finally restoring order in
there...

AM: Angel just tripped Sonya from the floor! The numbers game is
already
playing in their favor, the ref was busy sending Myra to the corner and
Moira Faith dropped a knee into the back of Sonya's head!

[Soon all parties in the match are in their proper corners, except for
Moira Faith who keeps Sonya Benedict down with choking headscissors
designed to wear her out. Sonya fights to the ropes and is able to pull
free, but a standing senton splash only gets her to crash down across
Faith's pulled-up knees. From there Moira applies a reverse facelock,
pulling Sonya up into a dragon sleeper-hold and after a few seconds
drags
her along to the Kindred-Angel corner looking to tag out. Angel gets
the
tag and comes in with a knife-like elbow into the solar plexus of Sonya
Benedict and takes over from Moira with an atomic drop followed into a
mandible claw takeover.]

DR: Angel already pulling out the trademark here tonight, first cover
of
the match! One!

Two!

Shoulder up off the mat!

AM: Come on Sonya, push them back!

[Leanna Love pleads with her partner from the opposite side of the ring
as Angel picks Sonya up and drops her throat-first across the top rope,
and on the rebound a russian legsweep snaps her right back to the mat.
Another quick tag out brings in Myra to do the damage on her cousin.
And
damage she does, grabbing an arm on Sonya and dropping a leg to the
back
of her neck, then locks in the Morbid Sting triangle choke!

It's only on for a few seconds as Leanna rushes in and breaks it up
with
a hard stomp on Myra's face, but as the referee ushers her back out
Moira
sneaks into the ring and lifts Sonya up into a fireman's carry, swings
her over and drives her into a backbreaker. Faith scurries from the
ring
before she's seen, although the chorus of boos tips the ref off that
something must have occured. Myra gets back up and drags Sonya back to
the corner, tagging out to Moira and after setting her up against the
turnbuckles they take turns with knife-edge chops laced into Sonya's
upper chest. Then as the Kindred distract the referee, Angel reaches in
and traps Sonya in an underhook facelock, choking her out once more for
a
few seconds. Coughing and gasping for air, Sonya is whipped out of the
corner by Myra right into a standing dropkick by Moira Faith, this time
connecting with picture-perfect accuracy. A pin attempt follows...

1!

2!

Kickout!]

AM: Yes! I thought Sonya was done for sure there, she desperately needs
to tag out of the match though.

DR: Moira Faith applying pressure with a headlock as she drags Sonya
back
to her feet... Sonya Benedict shoves her off to the ropes! Sleeperhold
on Moira- who's driven headfirst into the mat!

[The crowd pops loud as Sonya tries to lunge for her partner, who's
likewise trying to reach as far in as possible for the tag. But she's
stopped just short as Faith grabs her by the leg, pulling Sonya back to
the mat and latching on like a bulldog. Sonya replies with several
kicks
square to the face and finally frees herself, but when she reaches the
corner she's too late as Angel yanks Leanna down off the apron and
starts
to brawl with her. As the referee tries to separate them, the Kindred
grabs Sonya and lift her up for the Absolution. But before they can hit
it, Leanna climbs into the ring and tackles Moira, causing her to drop
Sonya. Leanna begins to fire off kicks and punches at anything that
moves, and hits an axe kick across the back of Moira's head as Angel
comes back into the ring.]

DR: We've got anarchy here! Everyone's getting in on the act and- wait,
where on earth did Sonya Benedict get that steel chair from?!?

SS: Look out!

[Sonya swings the chair at Angel's head with as much force as she can
muster...

CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!

And instead knocks her cousin out flat! HUGE POP!

Angel ducks out of the ring as Sonya stares at Myra for a moment,
sneers
and turns to look back at Angel. Sonya, still holding the chair,
follows
Angel out of the ring and all the way up the aisle to the back. The two
dissapear backstage as the bell rings, called on account of the chair
to
Myra. But the bell continues to ring as Leanna and Moira keep battling,
until Leanna is able to daze her with a DDT into the mat.]

AM: The match might be over, but try telling that to Leanna!

DR: We've lost sight of both Sonya Benedict and Angel, and Myra
Benedict
hasn't moved since she got nailed in the head with the chair. And now
Leanna Love is... she's pulled a pair of brass knuckles out of her
boot!

SHE JUST NAILED MOIRA FAITH IN THE SKULL WITH THEM!

[Moira sinks to her knees, not completely unconscious but she's soon
out
on her feet as Leanna drags her from the ring and locks on a chicken
wing
submission hold! Leanna heads to the back, with Moira trapped and
unable
to free herself as "Survivor" plays again.]

SS: What the hell's with that?!? Faith just got kidnapped!

AM: I'd say under the circumstances, turnabout is fair play.

DR: Fans, we have absolutely no idea what's going on now but any
information we get we'll pass along to you. Suffice to say that
situation is not going to resolve itself anytime soon though, my god.
We'll be back in a moment, I'm told Moe Owens is standing by once
again.

[The camera cuts to the Eaton Center Mall's backstage area. It is here
that we find UWF reporter Moe Owens. Moe, dressed in a pair of khakis,
a
black UWF polo shirt, and brown leather shoes, carries a microphone in
his right hand. With him is one of his favorite interview targets,
women's division competitor, "Mockingbird" Nina Grimsson. Dressed in a
pair of ripped and faded blue jeans, a black "Slayer- Root of All Evil"
t-shirt, black Nike amateur wrestling shoes, and a black leather biker
jacket adorned with chains and studs, Nina brushes her long, straight
black air out of her face. She then gives Moe a nod, signaling that
she's
ready.]

Moe: Greetings, UWF fans. Moe Owens here and welcome to UWF Saturday
Night Rampage, Brawl From the Mall. With me in this segment is
"Mockingbird" Nina Grimsson, women's division competitor and one of the
top contenders for the UWF women's title. As always, Nina, thank you
for
taking time out of your schedule to answer a few questions.

Nina: [Nodding] No problem, Moe. Always happy to provide a few sound
bytes. So, go ahead and fire away with the questions.

Moe: For starters, Sierra Browne has been extremely vocal about a lack
of
challengers for her title. She has named you specifically on several
occassions. What is your response to that?

Nina: Well, Moe, Sierra's really left me at a loss for words. Afterall,
she's the champion of our division as well as a top veteran. So why the
hell is she letting me get into her head so much? Why would she be
giving
me this big of an advantage for when we finally do meet? Right now, I'm
a
non-factor for her belt, and on top of that, Marissa seems to have made
it pretty clear that I have to go through both her and Dalbello before
I
get a shot at Sierra now. So, I guess all I can say is that Sierra just
needs to keep her shirt on and be a little patient. Because she'll have
plenty of time as well as plenty of reason to worry about me when the
time comes for our match to happen.

Moe: I see. Well, are there any plans set up for a match between you
and
either Marissa or Dalbello?

[Nina shakes her head.]

Nina: Nothing yet, but hopefully there will be something soon. I'd be
thrilled to get my hands on either one of those no good [MEEP]s. But
until that happens, Sierra had better get her mind off of me and start
focusing on the women who will be in her immediate future. Otherwise,
she
won't have a title to defend against me.

[Moe chuckles at this a bit.]

Moe: Well, I'm sure you won't have to worry about that too much. Sierra
seems to be pretty focused about defending her title against you. Now,
if
you could elaborate a little bit on...

SA: Ahem...

[Moe's face suddenly turns white as death and his focus has shifted
completely. Nina sees this and turns her attention too see what has
stricken him with fear. What she sees is none other then "The Epitome
of
Evil" Serge Annis and Caliban, the Hands of Death dressed in black.
Caliban has a leather trenchcoat while Annis opts for a black
sleeveless
ribbed top, and both have black leather pants.]

Nina: And what, may I ask, brings you two here?

SA: Oh Nina...

[Annis flashes that evil smile...]

SA: I think you know.

[Caliban cracks his knuckles and chuckles to himself.

SA: Your brothers have been very, very bad...

[Annis leans in close to her and takes a whiff of air... as if smelling
her scent.]

SA: And unfortunately for you... The sins of your family won't go
unpunished.

[That evil smile breaks into a sadistic sneer.]

SA: That means unfortunate things for you Miss Grimsson...

[She takes a glance at both men and drops her jacket to the floor and
gets into a fighting stance.]

Nina: I see how this is going to go. Can't say I'm too surprised to
hear
that. Take your best shot, you two.

[Nina now turns back to the petrified Moe Owens.]

Nina: Get out of here, Moe. No reason for you to be caught in the
middle
of this.

[Moe does as he is asked as Annis and Caliban now converge on Nina.
Nina
stands her ground as the tag champs approach. Caliban quickly turns and
glares at the cameraman. With one swift swipe, Caliban reaches out and
grabs the camera from him, knocking it loose and falling to the floor.
We
hear Nina scream just before the feed is lost and we get a quick shot
of
television snow until we switch back to ringside.]

AM: OH MY GOD, GET HELP BACK THERE! Nina Grimsson may be one of the
stellar women's wrestlers of our day but she's up against two monsters
back there!

DR: We're going to go to pre-recorded footage with some participants of
the next match, but I hope to god we can get security backstage to help
Nina Grimsson!

[Fade to "backstage" somewhere in the mall, where we find UWF reporter
Moe Owens standing in front of The Garage Clothing Co. store with The
Wind Walkers and "British Bad Girl" Lisa Drake. Lisa wears a white
windbreaker over her traditional wrestling attire. Powers wears her
glasses and is dressed in her new gear consisting of a deep purple
tight
top with a "Wind Walkers" logo on the chest, and black tights. Tara is
wearing identical gear to Powers but without the glasses.Shoppers
walk by in the background, and a small crowd is gathered around the
competitors.]

MO: Tonight the three of you have the opportunity to face The Bod
Squad,
who has given all three of you problems during the past few months...
but interestingly, they will have to team with John DeWolfe tonight.
What are your thoughts about this?

[Lisa looks over at the Wind Walkers and gets a slight smile on her
face.]

LD: I think it's bloody well appropriate that DeWolfe is stuck in this
match. He was the one who spent his time running his mouth about how
wrestlers like us don't provide what he wants to see from women... now
he gets to find out firsthand what it's like to be in the ring with
them.

AP: My only fear about John DeWolfe competing is that the creep might
enjoy getting roughed up by three women. Lucky for us, contact will be
short and sweet because we're not intent on simply wrestling DeWolfe. I
think I speak for all of the women of the UWF when I say DeWolfe is
going to get paid back big time for the way he treats us.

TTS: Maybe he'll enjoy it, but I'll do whatever I can to make sure
tonight is the most unpleasent night of his life. This is every woman's
dream come true. What woman hasn't dreamed of beating up and
humiliating
a sexist pig?

MO: But surely you must know The Bod Squad can cause some trouble for
you.

LD: [chuckles] Yes, that's about all they're good for... causing
trouble. We're not concerned, though. Tara and Alicia have had no
problem dealing with The Bod Squad before and, considering they have
that dead weight on their side now, I'd say the Squad is in an even
worse situation.

AP: The Bod Squad are probably too busy shopping here tonight to be
concerned about our match. I know Tara Marshall and what she is capable
of. No one knows the Unicorn better than I do. Tonight, it's time to
put
the Unicorn out to pasture, give Brianna a serious lesson in reality,
and shut DeWolfe up once and for all.

TTS: The Bod Squad has been a thorn in my side since I first came to
UWF.
However, they are at their weakest. Marshall has let her ego get
ridiculously out of control and Brianna Landis is simply her sycophant.
She is to Marshall what Jamie Underpants was to Eddie Munster IV. I can
already hear the so-called Unicorn's excuses for tonight..

MO: But how do you three think you'll fare working together? After all,
Lisa, you have never teamed with Tara or Alicia before.

LD: Moe, the three of us share a common goal and that's to prove to
DeWolfe and the Squad what women's wrestling is bloody well all about.
When you have a common goal, you tend to work well together. It's how
it
was when I teamed with Nina Grimsson, and it's how it will be tonight,
I
promise you that.

MO: A strong message from three strong women here in the UWF. Ladies,
thank you.

[Cut back to the ring.]

SS: How can this be fair? John DeWolfe has to team up with the Bod
Squad
tonight?

AM: He shot his mouth off and couldn't back up his words, Sam. Becky
Byers offered him the chance to try and find a third partner, but
DeWolfe
had to screw it up at every opportunity. He's made his bed, now he's
got
to lay in it.

SS: Well, at least he gets to lay in it with Bri-

AM: Oh shut up.
_______ ___ __
| _ \' _| |_.--------.
|. 1 / _| _| |
......................|. _ \__| |____|__|__|__|......................
|: 1 \ Writer: BM
|::.. . /
'-------'

SIX WOMAN TAG MATCH:
Lisa Drake & The Wind Walkers versus The Bod Squad & ???
........................................................................

DH: The following contest is scheduled for one fall, and is the six
woman
tag team contest!

[The opening drum beats of Tears For Fears' "Break It Down Again" kick
in
over the speakers, and the British flag flashes onto the big screen TV
with the word "BRITISH BAD GIRL" over it in big black cursive-style
lettering drawing a loud pop from the crowd.]

DH: From London, England, weighing in at one hundred and thirty
pounds...

"THE BRIIIIIITIIIISH BADGIIIIIIIIRRRRRRRL" LLLLLLIIIIISA DRAAAAAAAAAKE!

[As Lisa Drake steps out from behind the curtain, wearing a white
jacket
with a British flag on the back with the words "British Bad Girl" over
the flag in black lettering the crowd lets loose a loud pop! Drake
walks
down the aisle to the ring and climbs onto the apron, steps between the
ropes and while looking out to the crowd the music changes to "Stand"
by
Motorhead.]

DH: And her partners... The team of "TORNADO" TARA SMITH... ALICIA
POWERS...

THE WIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIND WALLLLLLLLLLLLKERSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!

[Smith and Powers emerge from the back next, each dressed in their
usual
ring attire and tag fans as they run down to the ring to join Drake.
The
trio stands in the ring, awaiting their rivals as the crowd starts to
chant loudly:

"BOD SQUAD SUCKS! BOD SQUAD SUCKS!"]

SS: That's slander!

[Veruca Salt's "Born Entertainer" hits the PA system as the boos
intensify, and soon three figures stand in the entranceway. Two are
female, dressed in matching silver hotpants and crop tops. The third
has
on a pair of old-fashioned tights, a big terrycloth headband and a
white
t-shirt that seems to be a size or two too small.]

DH: Their opponents... First, from Halifax, Nova Scotia and weighing in
at two hundred and five pounds...

JOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHNNNNNNNNNNNN DEEEEEEWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOLLLLLLFE!

And his partners, the team of "THE NEW BLONDE BOMBSHELL" TARA
MARSHALL...
BRIANNA LANDIS...

THE BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD SSSSSSSSSSSSQUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAD!

[Marshall takes the lead, strutting her stuff down the aisle and lets
Brianna and DeWolfe follow. Brianna looks unsure as she glances over
her
shoulder back at the portly manager, who stops halfway down the aisle
to
do a few jumping jacks.]

AM: Would you look at that idiot? He doesn't have a clue what he's in
for.

SS: I think he's deceptively conning the other side.

DR: Yeah... you go ahead and think that Sam. We've got a war of words
here already, Marshall and Smith are trading barbs.

[The Unicorn tries to climb up onto the apron but the second she tries
TTS attempts to grab her, and Marshall steps back, demanding the
referee
send all three fan favorites to the opposite side of the ring. After a
game of cat and mouse goes on for a bit, the Bod Squad finally make it
into the ring while DeWolfe immediately goes for the corner.]

DR: The bell has rung... looks like Tara Marshall and Alicia Powers
will
start this off.

[Marshall and Powers circle, Marshall going for a swing, but Powers
ducks
it, then goes behind and traps Marshall in a waistlock. The Bod Squad
member looks for leverage, but unable to find any, drives an elbow back
into Powers' jaw. Spinning around, Marshall nails a pair of forearm
blows
before trapping Powers in a side headlock, only for Powers to back
Marshall into a corner.

The referee calls for a break, but as Marshall releases the headlock,
she
quickly raises he knee up and drives it into Powers' chest. She then
shoves Powers back into the corner, firing off a chop, only for Powers
to
retaliate with one of her own.

Stunned, Marshall falls victim to a kick to the midsection by Powers,
who
then slaps on a front facelock, drags Marshall to her corner and tags
in
Smith. Smith ducks between the ropes, firing off a kick to Marshall's
ribs, before Powers releases the facelock and exits the ring.]

DR: Tara Smith sends Marshall into the ropes... roundhouse kick on the
rebound!

AM: Cover!

ONE...

No, just a one count! Too soon to be getting a pinfall on Tara
Marshall.

SS: What I can't wait for is to see DeWolfe get into the ring.

AM: That's a joke. DeWolfe can't possibly match up in terms of
wrestling
with any of the other three on the opposing team.

SS: That's not the matchup I'm thinking about.

[SLAP!

Smith pulls Marshall off the mat, firing a kick to the midsection, then
taking her opponent down with a swinging neckbreaker. POP!

A quick legdrop follows, and Smith goes for another cover...

ONE...

And that's all Smith gets. The Tornado pulls Marshall up to her feet,
dragging her to the corner, then tagging in Lisa Drake. Holding
Marshall's arm behind her, Smith leaves the Bod Squad member open for a
shot to the midsection by Lisa. Smith exits the ring as Lisa snap
suplexes Marshall to the canvas, then comes off the ropes for an
elbowdrop...

...but Marshall is able to roll out of the way. HEEL POP!

Lisa rises to her feet, but Marshall meets her with a quick dropkick
before going to her corner to tag in Brianna Landis.]

DR: Landis dragging Lisa up and bodyslamming her to the canvas!

AM: And look at DeWolfe just standing there smirking... I can't wait
for
either Tara Smith, Alicia or Lisa to wipe that smirk off his face.

SS: Considering he knows he'll get to roll on the canvas with hot
women,
you'll never get that smirk off his face!

[SLAP!]

DR: Sam, just how many more times are you going to make Amy do that
during this match?

[Brianna drags Lisa off the canvas and sends her into the ropes, then
meets her with a flying forearm on the rebound. She then rolls on top
for
a cover...

ONE...

But only gets a one count. Brianna brings Lisa to her feet again, once
more sending her into the ropes and then leaping for an attempted
huracanrana...

...but she crashes to the canvas as Lisa sees the move coming and grabs
the ropes. POP!

Dazed, Brianna gets to her feet, only to be met with a quick
clothesline
by Lisa Drake. Moving in on her opponent, Lisa brings Brianna back up,
going behind her and dropping her to the canvas with a Russian
legsweep.
POP!

Lisa comes off the ropes and drops a corkscrew elbowdrop, then goes for
the cover...

ONE...

Brianna kicks out at one. Grabbing her opponent, Lisa drags Brianna to
the corner, tagging Smith back into the match.]

DR: Double Irish whip to the ropes... and there's a double back body
drop!

[POP!]

AM: Tara Smith, Alicia and Lisa have stayed in control so far... the
Bod
Squad is at a definite disadvantage.

SS: Wouldn't have happened if more women had been sympathetic to
DeWolfe's cause!

AM: Exactly why would any woman on this roster want to be sympathetic
to
DeWolfe.

SS: Well, for one thing, he's never cheap on a date.

AM: Oh God.

[Tara Smith drags Brianna up and takes her down with a belly to belly
suplex, then goes for a cover...

ONE...

TW...

Brianna kicks out before two. Smith brings Landis up to her feet again,
sending her into the ropes and takes her down with a Thesz press and
covers...

ONE...

TWO...

But Landis then rolls her legs up, hooking Smith's shoulders and
bringing
her to the canvas in a pinning predicament!

ONE...

TWO...

Smith kicks out! Both women get to their feet, Brianna ducking a
forearm
blow by Smith, then turning around to surprise the Tornado with a
spinning uppercut! HEEL POP!

Brianna capitalizes by hooking Smith's wrist, clutching it and pulling
her forward into a monkey flip, sending Smith sprawling to the canvas.
As
Smith rises, Brianna leaps to her shoulders, able to get her with a
rana
into a rollup...

ONE...

TWO...

Smith kicks out!]

DR: Brianna Landis turning the tide for her team... now she tags in
Tara
Marshall.

AM: A double whip to the ropes... double dropkick by The Bod Squad!

[DeWolfe smiles as Marshall now goes to work on Smith, stomping her in
the midsection twice before bringing her rival to her feet. Marshall
hooks Smith's arms and a double underhook suplex takes Smith to the
canvas, after which Marshall goes for a cover...

ONE...

TWO...

Kickout by Smith! Marshall drags Smith up by the hair, whipping her
into
a neutral corner, then rushing in after her...

...only for Marshall to run right into a boot to the gut by Smith, who
then mounts the second rope as Marshall is doubled over, then leaps off
to sunset flip Marshall to the canvas...

ONE..

TWO...

Kickout by Marshall! Smith is to her feet first, catching Marshall with
a
quick chop as the Bod Squad member rises to her knees, then dragging
her
up, cinching on a front facelock and DDTing Marshall to the canvas.
POP!

Smith reaches to her corner to tag in Powers, and another double Irish
whip is followed by a double elbow to the face by the Wind Walkers!
POP!]

DR: Powers with a cover!

ONE...

TWO...

No, Marshall with another kickout!

AM: And just like that, it's the Wind Walkers and Lisa in control of
the
match!

SS: Get DeWolfe in there and he'll show you control of another kind...
hehehe.

[SLAP!

Powers brings Marshall to her feet, a gutwrench suplex taking her down
to
the canvas, then Powers goes to the corner, climbing to the second
rope.

As she does, though, DeWolfe moves towards her, reaching over to slap
Powers on the thigh, drawing the attention of the wife of Alex Kidd!
HEEL
POP!]

AM: Come on! DeWolfe is deliberately distracting Powers!

DR: Marshall getting up...

SHE DROPKICKS POWERS FROM BEHIND!

[HEEL POP!]

AM: That sent Powers over the top rope! Dammit!

SS: Pure genius. See what I mean about control?

[Powers holds her head as Brianna Landis hops down from the ring apron,
grabbing Powers and sending her back into the ring, where Marshall is
there to greet her with a kick to the ribs. Dragging Powers up, she
sends
her to the ropes and nails her with a flying elbow, then getting up,
runs
to the ropes and hits a springboard moonsault, then goes for a cover...

ONE...

TWO...

Powers kicks out! Marshall straddles Powers and rains several blows to
her head, before looking to the corner, a cocky grin on her face...

...and tagging in John DeWolfe. HEEL POP!]

AM: Oh sure... NOW he wants in the match!

DR: DeWolfe doing some shadow boxing...

SS: Love those moves, champ!

[DeWolfe casually strolls over to Powers, stomping her twice...

...before strolling back to the corner and tagging in Landis. HEEL
POP!]

DR: As one would expect, DeWolfe does not want to stay in the ring very
long.

AM: Just disgusting.

SS: Hey, he's a gentlemen. Why should he have all the fun when Brianna
Landis wants to get in there?

[Brianna enters the ring as Powers gets to her knees, but Powers is
taken
down by a running neckbreaker, after which Landis clamps on a kneeling
dragon sleeper. Powers struggles to find leverage, only for Landis to
cinch in the hold tighter.

The referee checks for a submission, but Powers refuses to do so,
frustrating Brianna, who releases the hold and drives a hard fist into
the bridge of Alicia's nose. Dragging her to her feet, Landis whips
Powers hard into the Bod Squad's corner, then reaches over to tag in
DeWolfe again.

DeWolfe's stay again doesn't last long, as Brianna holds Powers in the
corner long enough to let DeWolfe deliver a pair of closed fists, after
which he promptly tags in Tara Marshall. HEEL POP!]

DR: Once again, DeWolfe not wanting to be in the ring for long.

AM: Sooner or later, it will catch up to him, and I'll be smiling when
it
happens.

SS: Sooner or later, DeWolfe will _really_ get the action going, and
_I'll_ be smiling when it happens!

[SLAP!

Marshall hoists Alicia onto her shoulders and then delivers a Samoan
drop, going for a cover afterward...

ONE...

TWO...

THR...

Powers kicks out! Marshall gets to her feet, kicking Powers in the ribs
again, before bringing her off the canvas and sending her to the ropes,
leaping into the air and taking her down with a headscissors on the
rebound.

Marshall then runs to the ropes, springboarding off and connecting with
an elbowdrop, before rolling to her corner and tagging in Brianna.]

DR: Look at this... Tara Marshall and Brianna Landis going to opposite
corners...

STEREO FROG SPLASHES!

[HEEL POP!]

AM: Cover... no, wait! They're both getting up!

SS: And they're gonna bring in DeWolfe!

[DeWolfe does take the tag and he climbs to the top rope, with Marshall
and Landis both standing in front of the corner, reaching up toward
DeWolfe...

...and then tossing DeWolfe off the top rope for a Rocket Launcher,
then
ducking between the ropes...

...not noticing that Alicia Powers raised up her knees and DeWolfe
landed
right across them! HUGE POP!]

DR: The Bod Squad's tactics have backfired on him!

SS: Get out of there, DeWolfe!

AM: Alicia is rolling to her corner...

...she tags Tara Smith!

[BIG POP! DeWolfe is dazed as Smith straddles him and rains a series of
punches down on his head, before yanking him to his feet and picking
him
up for a bodyslam! Running to the corner, Smith leaps to the second
rope,
leaping back at DeWolfe with a moonsault. POP!

Smith then pulls DeWolfe off the canvas again, pulling him to a
standing
position, only to leap up for an enzuigiri to the back of the head,
sending DeWolfe down again! Smith then quickly grabs DeWolfe by the leg
and locks the Achilles tendon hold, DeWolfe wincing in pain on the
canvas...

...only for Brianna Landis to rush the ring and dropkick Tara in the
back
of the head to break it up! HEEL POP!]

DR: Brianna trying to help DeWolfe... but here comes Lisa Drake..
dropkick sends Brianna back out of the ring!

AM: Tara's got DeWolfe.. front facelock...

SHE HIT THE RATTLER DDT!

[HUGE POP! Tara Marshall now rushes the ring, but Smith spots Marshall
and nails her with a hard superkick to stop her in her tracks! Turning
to
her own corner, Smith reaches in to tag Alicia Powers and the two both
go
to opposite corners, Lisa pulling DeWolfe to his feet as they do...

...and then Lisa quickly rolls out of the ring as a dazed DeWolfe falls
victim to a pair of second-rope clotheslines from both Smith and Powers
on opposite sides! HUGE POP!]

DR: They call that The Crosswinds!

AM: Powers covers!

ONE...

TWO...

THREE...

NO, BRIANNA LANDIS BREAKS IT UP!

SS: Ah, Brianna Landis, faithful and loyal to the end!

DR: This may be the end of DeWolfe, though... Smith tackling Landis and
they roll out of the ring!

[Lisa Drake is back at her corner, where Powers now reaches over to tag
her in! As Marshall gets to her feet, Powers cuts her off with a spear
tackle, and they both roll out of the ring. Outside the ring, Smith has
Brianna in a headlock, but Brianna shoves her into the steel ringsteps,
as in the ring, Lisa pulls DeWolfe up...

...then hoists him upside down behind her back! HUGE POP!]

DR: VERTEBREAKER! DEWOLFE IS FINISHED!

AM: COVER!

ONE...

TWO...

THREE...

[Unfortunately, no, because Brianna Landis again rolls into the ring to
break up the pinfall! HEEL POP!]

AM: Dammit! Just when it looks like Lisa and the Wind Walkers have the
match, Brianna's breaking up the pinfall!

SS: She won't let her one and only DeWolfe down!

DR: Smith is down after being sent into the ringsteps... but now Lisa
is
going after Brianna!

[A hard right hand dazes Brianna, and Lisa then drops Brianna with an
Evenflow DDT! Landis ends up rolling outside the ring, where Powers and
Marshall are still fighting, Marshall now sending Powers into the
dasher
boards, only to be met by Smith, who flies off the apron with a cross
body block! POP!

And in the ring, Lisa has DeWolfe pulled to his knees, looks to the
corner, then gets a small smile on her face as she drags him over.]

AM: Oh my God... Lisa could be going for that top-rope backdrop driver!

SS: That's not fair! Assault and battery on a UWF employee, that's what
it is!

DR: Like it or not, Sam, DeWolfe had no choice but to wrestle this
match,
and now, he has no choice but to take the punishment like any other
wrestler would!

[Lisa drags DeWolfe to the corner, but the referee has now gone outside
the ring to break up Smith and Powers, who are double-teaming Marshall.

As Lisa sets DeWolfe on the top rope, Brianna gets to her feet,
grabbing
the ring bell from the timekeeper's table, then hiding it as best she
can
as she goes to the corner...

...and as Lisa climbs onto the top rope, Brianna gets to the corner
and...

___CLANG!___]

AM: DAMMIT! Brianna just handed DeWolfe the ring bell and he caught
Lisa
with it!

DR: The referee is still outside the ring... Lisa just fell to the
canvas
and DeWolfe is still sitting on the top rope.

[Not for long, though, as a dazed DeWolfe does his best to get his
balance and get to the top rope, leaping off for a top-rope elbowdrop!
HEEL POP!

Landis then grabs the referee's attention, pointing to the ring where
DeWolfe is covering an unconscious Lisa Drake!]

AM: NO! DON'T COUNT THAT PINFALL!

[The referee rolls in and...

ONE...

TWO...

THREE!

HUGE HEEL POP as a dazed DeWolfe is dragged out of the ring by Brianna
Landis, and Smith and Powers stop outside the ring, then quickly roll
into the ring to check on Lisa as Tara Marshall regroups with Brianna
and
DeWolfe outside the ring.]

DH: Here are your winners.. the team of THE BOOOODDDD SQUAAAADDD AND
JOOOOHHHNNN DEWOOOOLLLLFE!!!

[Landis is half-dragging DeWolfe up the aisle, giddly shouting "WE
WON!"
as Marshall is just snickering and DeWolfe... well, he's trying to
smirk,
although he's also holding his head.

In the ring, Powers is knelt beside Lisa, who holds her head in pain as
Smith argues with the referee and the fans let their feeling be know.

"BULL-SHIT! BULL-SHIT! BULL-SHIT!"

"BULL-SHIT! BULL-SHIT! BULL-SHIT!"

"BULL-SHIT! BULL-SHIT! BULL-SHIT!"]

DR: I can't believe this... The Wind Walkers and Lisa Drake had DeWolfe
down for the count, and he wins it?!

AM: Thanks in part to Brianna Landis giving DeWolfe the ring bell!

SS: Hey, as long as DeWolfe returns the favor for Brianna, which I'm
sure
he'll gladly do at the nearest Motel 6!

[SLAP!]

DR: Alicia Powers, Tara Smith and Lisa Drake were robbed of a victory,
although I can imagine their issues with John DeWolfe are not finished
yet! We'll be back in a few minutes with the second hour!

[The cameras cut to the backstage area as Alex Extreme walking into the
mall to the sounds of cheers from the fans. Extreme, wearing a black
Armani suit jacket and pants, red mock t-shirt, and shades, saunters
over
to the concessions table and pours himself a cup of coffee. As he does
so, the cameras zoom out revealing Jessica Marshall walking over toward
him. Extreme sips at his coffee and shakes his head at Marshall.]

AE: Oh goody, it's the wicked witch of the west. What do you want now?

JFM: Nothing, just looking at a man who's time is short. One way or
another, I'm putting you out of this federation for good.

AE: Look, you might have gotten that match with Keening and put me at a
disadvantage with those other two twits but you ain't even close to
stopping me. You may have suckered Erik and Chad into doing things like
title matches when they shouldn't have but you won't get me to. I have
nothing to fear from you.

JFM: Actually that's not true Alex. You should fear me a great deal.
You
should fear me because I know what you fear. And its possible one day
your greatest fear may just confront it when you least expect it.

AE: Let me make this clear to you: there ain't nothing or nobody that
I... I...

[Extreme trails off, as another figure approaches. Walking up behind
Jessica Marshall, The Epitome of Evil looms over the co-president.
Annis
is still in his black street cloths, and in a very disturbing image,
blood is still on his hands and face from the assault on Nina Grimson.
Marshall doesn't even have to look back behind her, she can see it in
Alex Extreme's eyes.]

JFM: Like I said Alex, you never know when your one fear will show up
when you least expect it.

[Extreme ignores the snarky comment from Fatality, because there is a
much bigger issue on the table right now... Annis sneers, apparently
not
in the jovial mood that Jessica is in. Running a hand through his hair,
Alex lets in a deep breath of air. Jessica, being the opportunist
reaches
out and pulls the shades off of Alex's face. And unbelievably, he
doesn't
do anything to stop her. Putting on her new pair of shades, Fatality
gets
one last parting shot in...]

JFM: Now you two boys play nice now... And I'll see you at Gold Rush
Alex. If you survive...

[And with that, Jessica walks away with an extra bounce in her step,
whistling to herself. Annis steps up to Extreme, so he is peering down
at
him.]

SA: You don't like me very much, do you Alex?

[Alex clenches his fist, but unable to respond verbally.]

SA: That's okay Alex. I don't like you either.

[Nothing.]

SA: You are the one that tried to prevent Caliban and myself from
challenging the Grimssons for the World Tag Titles. You're the one that
warned them all about Evil Incarnate, aren't you Alex?

[Alex peers into the eyes of Annis.]

SA: But it goes deeper than that Alex. It's fear. You reek of fear
right
now, I can sense it. What are you afraid of Alex?

Are you afraid that I will destroy your two close friends at Gold Rush
inside of Descent Into Hell?

No, that's not it. You're too selfish for it to be that simple...

[Annis begins to sidestep Extreme, but staring right at him. Alex looks
flustered, and focuses his eyes in front of him.]

SA: Perhaps it a fear of what I am capable of doing...

[Annis leans in and grins as he whispers into Alex's ear.]

SA: You know that I can destroy you... Both mentally and physically...

[Annis leans back and laughs.]

SA: Heh heh... Something that no one else has ever done to you.

[Annis continues to sidestep Alex, and is now behind him.]

SA: Something... that I would take great pleasure in doing... Putting
an
end to the myth of the unstoppable Alex Extreme.

[Serge shakes his head.]

SA: But it's not about you or I tonight Alex. It's about the Grimssons.

[With that, the pre-bloodied Epitome of Evil strikes. The 6'8 monster
clubs Extreme across the back of the neck with a forearm that sends
Alex
clamoring forwards. Serge charges after Extreme and collides into him
with a kneelift as he pulls his head down to connect directly into the
kneecap. The crowd in the Eaton Centre boo, despite Annis being a
hometown boy.]

DR: Someone get security back there!

[The Epitome of Evil grabs a hold of Extreme with two hands around the
throat and starts choking him.]

DR: Annis is on a rampage tonight! This is sick!

AM: First Nina Grimsson, and now Alex Extreme! No one is safe!

[Annis laughs in Extreme's helpless face as he chokes the life out of
him. Extreme has little to do, except the one ticket out of this
predicament... Male sympathy pop!]

SS: HE KICKED HIM IN THE JUBBILIES!

[Even Evil feels that pain. Annis relinquishes his hold on Alex
Extreme.
Extreme moves into Annis and fires off a fist of his own but is met
with
a quick thrust to the throat that derails Extreme. Sucking up the
man-pain, Annis charges at Alex and the two collide and slam into a set
of metal doors that fly open.]

DR: Dear God they're in the mall! Someone separate those men right now!

[Mall shoppers scream and scurry out of the way as Annis and Extreme
race
back to a vertical position, with Evil Incarnate rising first. Serge
winds up and punts a field goal kick into Extreme's ribcage as a mall
security cop tries to hold back the curious onlookers and the people
who
are fleeing for their lives.]

SS: Remember when Annis went on a brawl like this one time? He threw
his
opponent down the trash compactor! So just think what he'll do to Alex
Extreme.

AM: And all to send a message to the Sons of Cacaphony. He is sick and
twisted.

SS: And he is home Amy. These people love it!

[Sam is right for once, as Serge's hometown crowd start cheering him on
chanting "EVIL! EVIL! EVIL!". The hometown boy however doesn't even
give
them a glance as he climbs on top of Alex Extreme and begins hammering
him in the face with fists]

DR: He is an animal! A bloody Serge Annis is unrelenting in his attack
here on Alex Extreme!

SS: And that's not even his blood. It belongs to Nina Grimsson, and now
Alex Extreme.

[Extreme has in fact been busted open at the nose by one of Serge's
UFC'like clubbing blows. Finally more mall security arrive on the scene
as Annis continues his assault in front of the Sears store.]

DR: Finally, they are trying to tear Annis apart from Alex Extreme.
Look
at Serge's eyes! It's like he's in a trance! This is too much. Alex
Extreme didn't deserve this.

[It takes five gaurds to pry Annis off of his prey. The Epitome of Evil
doesn't go willingly and puts up a large struggle. A dazed Alex Extreme
rises to his feet with the assistance of UWF official Tim Vexton and a
mall cop. They start escorting Alex away while Annis continues to
wrestle
with his captors.]

AM: Annis must have clocked Alex Extreme good, because if I know Alex,
he'd never back down from a fight. Not even against Serge Annis.

SS: Unless he is afraid of Sergey, ever think of that Red? And who can
blame him?

DR: Well hopefully some order will be restored now that Serge has been
cont?LOOK OUT!

[As they attempt to drag him away, Annis is able to slip out of the
grip
of the security staff and manages to clobber several of them before he
charges at Alex from behind.]

DR: Not again! Someone step in there and make this stop!

[Serge rams a forearm shot into the back of Extreme's head and gives
Vexton a quick shove to the ground. As Alex clutches at his neck Serge
moves in behind and grabs Alex Extreme in a belly to back bearhug
position and begins looking around.]

DR: What is he doing now?!?

SS: It looks like he's looking for a place to... INCOMING!

DR: Don't do it! Don't do it!

[Using his raw strength, Annis lifts Extreme off of his feet and with
one
giant swoop, tosses Alex Extreme backwards in a german belly to back
release suplex, releasing it right when Alex is flying backwards
through
the air and crashing into the giant glass display wall of Sears!

____________________CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAASH!____________________

The giant panes of glass shatter as Extreme is tossed upside down and
crashing into and through the window! Glass flies everywhere as Extreme
lands with a sickening thud, taking out several of the display
mannequins
that were occupying the window space! Luckily no one was in the way as
security had done well enough to keep people back at a safe distance.]

DR: There's glass everywhere!

SS: Wooo! Go Serge!

DR: What a horrific and cowardly attack! He got him from behind!

AM: That surprises you Dave? We've already seen him assault Nina
Grimsson
for god sakes! Alex Extreme has been busted open big time after that!

[Annis is tackled by six security cops now. The Epitome of Evil has
decided not to resist this time, and he laughs as he stands over top
the
fallen Extreme.]

SA: When you wake up Alex, ask your friends The Grimssons who's to
blame
for all of this... Heh heh heh...

[As is pulled away as a medical team arrives to check on the condition
of
Alex Extreme, who is laying in a clump of women's clothes and broken
mannequin parts, surrounded by shards of glass.]

AM: It's amazing that we're ever allowed back here after some of the
stuff that goes down at Brawl From The Mall.

[Fade to black.]