<UWF> Saturday Night Rampage Hour 2 5-27-06
Cygnia
Specifically, a hallway. But a hallway unlike most others in that it
happens to have a huge man in a dark business suit, reflective
sunglasses, and black leather gloves standing right in the middle of
it.
As the camera approaches, the man reaches out and points toward the end
of a dimmed hallway, not saying a word. Naturally, the cameraman
complies....eventually coming to a stop right in front of a glowing red
neon sign affixed to the wall. As if the blaring dance music and
squealing teenage girls weren't already enough of a clue, the huge sign
reads "Trey's Lounge." At that moment, a man-child clad in nothing but
the finest designer clothing steps out from behind a metal door and
into
clear view of the camera. He pauses a moment to flash his baby blues,
which elicits a small shriek from the handful of underage female fans
and
perverted old women in the D.C. crowd, but a backlash of deep boos from
the rest of those in attendance. Unfazed, unappreciative, and
unabashed,
Trey DaMann takes a breath and looks to the sky, or in this case, the
ceiling.]
TD: The star...
[booo!]
TD: Of the show...
[Booo!]
TD: HAS ARRIVED!
[BOOO!]
TD: Saturday Night Amateur Hour is now over, and it is time for the
greatest to take center stage.
[Trey takes a moment to appreciate his own words. The crowd does not,
continuing to let him hear it.]
TD: Of course you know me. I'm Trey DaMann, God-Given Miracle, and the
next UWF World Heavyweight champion.
[The Verizon Center crowd, sick to death of Trey always repeating
himself, starts a "Shut The F*** Up!" chant.]
TD: But there's someone here that just doesn't get it. As my millions
of
sycophants already know, there is an old...and I mean escaping the Grim
Reaper by mere inches...decrepit, feeble, senile, pathetic waste of
space
here in _MY UWF_. He's not good for anything, certainly not wrestling.
He
probably only made a living for himself by hanging around the right
people.
[A small "PRIDE" chant, no doubt led by Sam Steeley at ringside, pops
up.]
TD: But here he is, delaying all those Early Bird specials and
shuffleboard tournaments back in his tiny Florida condo, trying to
resurrect whatever career he may have had. Not only that, but
challenging
for _MY UWF World Heavyweight Championship_. The fact that he hopes to
hold what is rightfully mine is disgusting to me in every way possible.
[A "Like We Care What You Think" heel pop.]
TD: And so here I am tonight, hoping to impart some wisdom onto Brett
Greene.
[Pop at the name mention!!]
TD: Brett, just because you might have been relevant a decade ago does
not mean that you can come back and recapture whatever glory you
thought
you had. You're 42 years old. I just turned 21, so that makes me half
your age and at least twice the man you are. I am stronger, faster,
smarter, richer, more capable, and certainly more deserving.
[This only fuels the crowd's profanity-laced chants.]
TD: Old man, you should not be competing in a wrestling ring. You
should
be in some "retirement community" by the man-made gravel lake
appreciating the fact that you're not dead like most of your friends,
you
aren't yet forced to crap in a bag attached to you, your teeth don't
sit
in a cup at night, and you don't smell like rotting vomit. You should
thank God for the fact that despite being blind, deaf, and slow-moving,
you still have a valid driver's license with which you can run down to
the local Wal-Mart and stock up on all the adult diapers,
multivitamins,
denture creams, walkers, and Viagra you can carry.
[Who doesn't have a Viagra-induced pop?]
TD: But no, Brett Greene....I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this,
but
there is no Viagra you can take to resurrect your sorry ass career.
There
is nothing you can do to stop me from beating your
broken-hip-waiting-to-happen barely-alive corpse into the ground.
Because
you see, people of YOUR age have nothing on people MY age. Youth will
be
served. Youth is king. And no, I'm not talking about that other
dinosaur
still hanging around here who had one shining moment 10 years ago. I
was
in fifth grade then, so you all should just give it up already.
[The defiant crowd appreciatively cheers all of the older UWF stars, a
group that not only includes Brett Greene and Youth Gone Wild, but Alex
Kidd, Tom Landis, and Scott Daniels.]
TD: I'm sure that when you asked the powers-that-wannabe for a tag
match,
you hoped that you could maybe escape from this little issue between us
without being hurt too badly. I mean, why else would you opt out of a
potential one-on-one match in favor of hiding on the apron and hoping
someone else can do your job for you? But a fat guy in a flowered dress
can't save you.
[This prompts a very vocal "Tumaffi's gonna kill you!" chant. A few
wiseasses start saying "Tumaffi's gonna EAT you" in response.]
TD: Nothing can save you. Because I can't live in a world where a
42-year-old has-been even thinks for a moment that he's in my league.
Or
worse, someone who thinks he can beat me. You're not on my level and
you
have no chance of winning, Brett. Reality will be brutally beaten into
your head tonight. This is _MY UWF_ and nobody gets one over on ME.
[The irony of this line is not lost on the sniggering D.C. crowd.]
TD: Brett, someone like you does not beat someone like me. Someone like
you should bow down to the present and future of this sport. Someone
like
you should step aside for someone like me. And no, I'm not asking you
to
pass a proverbial torch to me.
[Trey looks right into the camera and displays a look of pure
confidence.]
TD: Because I was born with the torch. And now I want you to get the
hell
out of my way.
[Trey adjusts the collar of his suit jacket.]
TD: Your little dream of a comeback ends tonight at the hands of the
most
gifted athlete this world has ever seen. Greene, you're either going to
step aside...
[His baby blues sparkle into the camera.]
TD: ....or get carried out. Either way, my meteoric rise to the top of
this sport continues, and THAT is reason to celebrate.
[DaMann walks back to the side, presumably to rejoin his locker room
party. Fade to the opening credits.]
_______ __ __
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|_____|
________ __ __ ____
| ___ \ ______ | \ / || _ \ ______ _____ _____
\ \__| \ / ___ || \/ || | \ \ / ___ | / ___ \ | ___|
\ __ // /___| || |\ /| || |_/ // /___| | / / /_/ | |_
\ \ \ \ \ ___ || | \/ |_|| __/ \ ___ || | ___ | _|
\_\ \ \ \ \ | ||_| | | \ \ | || | |_ || |_______
\_\ \_\ |_| |_| \_\ |_| \ \___| ||_________\
\_____/ 05-27-2006
Hour Two
DR: Welcome back folks, after a hellacious first hour we're getting set
for the second half of tonight's show. With a series of tag team
encounters, beginning with our next match as Brett Greene teams up with
the Unified Television Champion, Tumaffi, to face the man you just saw,
Trey DaMann, and his partner from the Pride, "Dead End" Derek Martin.
AM: There's a ton of bad blood surrounding that match. Greene and
DaMann. Tumaffi and Martin. Greene and Martin.
SS: Don't forget Tumaffi and the english language.
[SCENE: A dead end road, in mid-afternoon. Grassland is on all sides.
A
familiar voice speaks, though noone is in sight.]
Tumaffi: DEREK MARTIN! YOU FOOL! Did you think that you had utterly
destroyed Tumaffi?! Why, then, did you leave Tumaffi in the ring?!
[We briefly cut to a black-and-white replay of last Rampage, wherein
"Dead End" Derek Martin attacked Tumaffi with a steel chair postmatch.]
(video clip) DR: Across the back of the neck and shoulders this time!
[Back to the dead end in the road.]
Tumaffi: Did you think Tumaffi defeated? Did you think Tumaffi would
not
surely find you and make you pay for your iniquity?!
[Back to the replay, and yet another chairshot.]
(video clip) DR: And again!
[Back to the dead end.]
Tumaffi: What madness has invaded your mind, that you expect to survive
the wrath of Tumaffi?! Has Tumaffi not left many men crumpled in
broken
heaps without being provoked?! What, then, do you expect Tumaffi to do
now that I have been provoked as noone has dared provoke me before?!
[Back to the replay, and the chairshot that knocked Tumaffi to his
knees.]
(video clip) DR: TUMAFFI'S BEEN KNOCKED DOWN TO HIS KNEES!
[Back to the dead end.]
Tumaffi: Somehow, Derek Martin, you gained an advantage against the
great
Tumaffi. You used solid steel and put Tumaffi down. Yet that was not
your mistake. It was indeed shrewd of you to use a weapon, so
hopelessly
overmatched as you were. Your mistake was that you did not finish
what
you began.
[Back to the replay, and a hail of chairshots. Martin smashes Tumaffi
with the chair over and over and over... until finally the behemoth
falls.]
(video clip) AM: This isn't a wrestling match! This is a mugging!
(video clip) SS: Woohoo! I knew you could do it, Derek!
[Back to the dead end. There is the sound of a vehicle in the
distance.]
Tumaffi: Do you not remember the line of stretchers that have left UWF
buildings since Rise To Power? Do you not recall the fate of the
insect
Miguel QUesada, who was the last man to provoke me? What makes you
believe, Derek Martin, that you shall not suffer a worse fate than
they?
Your worthless stablemates are as nothing to me! Your own abilities
are
woefully inadequate to stop me! And you have the unmitigated gall to
do
THIS?!
[Back to the replay, and Martin hammering Tumaffi with the chair after
he
has fallen.]
(video clip) DR: AND HE'S STILL GOING!
[Back to the dead end. The rumbling of an approaching vehicle is quite
evident now.]
Tumaffi: FOOL! This very week, you will suffer as never before! The
insolent termite DaMann is useless even as a speed bump to slow Tumaffi
down! The mainlander Greene will surely be of no impediment to the
mighty Tumaffi! There is nothing that can save you, and noone capable
of
helping you! If you are so witless as to not understand that, fool,
then
listen to the masses... for they knew immediately who would prevail
after
you made your fatal error!
[Back to the replay one more time, and the aftermath of the attack.]
(video clip) Crowd: TU-MAF-FI! TU-MAF-FI! TU-MAF-FI!
(video clip) DR: Wow, listen to that!
[And back to the dead end, where the sound of the vehicle is coming
very
near.]
Tumaffi: Do you think that Tumaffi will be stopped by a Dead End?!
[And with a loud crunching sound, the dead end is flattened by a
steamroller, piloted by a very big Samoan wearing dark-green baggy silk
florals. The voice-over continues.]
Tumaffi: TUMAFFI NEEDS NO ROADS TO GO WHEREVER HE PLEASES! Dead Ends
have no meaning to the great Tumaffi! The only Dead End that Derek
Martin need be concerned with is the end of his career, should he not
survive the inexhaustable onslaught of the mighty Tumaffi! If he is
fortunate, he will only suffer a Live End due to crippling injury when
Tumaffi breaks his bones and consumes the marrow within! And one can
only be considered so fortunate when one is wheelchair-bound! Have you
not yet understood, mainlander scum? TUMAFFI CAN NOT BE STOPPED! The
fearsome Tumaffi will run over the mewling DaMann with ridiculous ease,
and crush you into powder, which he will then mix with water and Cherry
Kool-Aid and drink! HEAR THESE WORDS AND DESPAIR! For once Tumaffi
has
finished with you, despair shall surely be all that you will have left
to
your name!
[One last time, we cut to the video clip... where Tumaffi is beginning
to
stir on the mat.]
(video clip) DR: Martin just might have bitten off more than he can
chew
against Tumaffi, Pride or not.
(video clip) AM: The big man's already proven when you irritate him,
you
get hurt badly.
[And with that, we cut.]
DR: Here we go, down to ringside for this big tag team war.
____ ___ __ _____________
| | \/ \ / \_ _____/
S | | /\ \/\/ /| __) SATURDAY NIGHT RAMPAGE
N | | / \ / | \.........................
R |______/ \__/\ / \___ / Writer: Mike Beeby
\/ \/
TAG TEAM CONTEST:
Trey DaMann & "Dead End" Derek Martin versus Tumaffi & Brett Greene
......................................................
[All the lights in the arena immediately shut off, with the exception
of
one solitary gold spotlight that focuses on the entranceway. A few
ear-piercing shrieks break the silence before a loud synthesizer chord
echoes throughout the building...the soon-to-be most well-known first
note in UWF history, that of "Lovin' Every Minute of It" by Loverboy.
A continuous wall of gold sparks falls from the base of the Unitron to
the floor as the music goes full blast. Upon hearing the first words
spoken in the song, the pyro ceases and bathed in gold spotlight is a
large figure with his arms spread wide and head tilted towards the sky.
Dozens of gold spotlights all convene on the center of the entranceway.
This individual is positively glowing as he emerges from the back,
slowly
lowering his head to reveal the trademark TRILLION DOLLAR TREY DAMANN
SMILE!]
DH: Ladies and gentlemen, introducing from sunny and beautiful Southern
California....
[The Unitron jumps back to life, showing various slow-motion clips of
Trey and his famous facial expression, interspersed with some of his
signature moves in action and fly-overs of the picturesque region he
calls home.]
DH: He stands at six foot five inches, and weighing in at two hundred
and
sixty-five pounds....
[Trey DaMann, wearing black-with-gold-streaks long tights, specially
made
for tonight's broadcast, pauses to bask in the crowd's reaction.
Positive, negative, neutral, or apathetic, it doesn't matter. His
dazzling baby blue eyes lead the way as the 21-year-old UWF soon-to-be
uber-super-mega-gigantostar makes his slow journey towards the ring
bathed in gold light.]
DH: Here is TRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEYYYYYYY
DAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMAAAAAAAAANNNNNNN!
[The "Star Of The Show" adjusts his black kneepads, elbowpads, and
boots
before climbing the steps to the apron. He finally goes through the
ropes
with the huge obnoxious grin that never left his face. Trey runs his
fingers through his short black hair before climbing to the second
turnbuckle and displaying the TRILLION DOLLAR TREY DAMANN SMILE! for
all
the world to see. After one more chorus, the song begins to fade out
and
as the opening strands of "The Garden of Allah" by Don Henley kick in
over the speakers as the arena lights dim and the Unitron shows a
black-and-white shot of a long road zipping by, and then just as the
drums to the song kick in, the shot zooms in on a sign at the end of
the
road:
"DEAD END."
And then, a light goes up by the entrance portal and smoke starts to
rise
up as the music plays. A figure then steps into the light, but the hazy
smoke prevents us from seeing the features of the man who stands there.
And then, the figure moves forward so we can see his features, and
indeed, it's "Dead End" Derek Martin. He wears a standard wrestling
singlet, black in color, with a yellow "DEAD END" sign with the letters
in black lettering on the front of the singlet, plus black kneepads and
black wrestling boots. And he has a dark, cold, sinister look in his
eyes.]
DH: And his partner! Representing the Pride, and weighing in at two
hundred and sixty-five pounds...
"DEEEEEEEEEEAD ENNNNNNNNND" DERRRRRRRREEEEK
MAAAAAAAARTIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNN!
[A lone spotlight now begins to follow Martin as he walks down the
aisle.
About halfway down, he gets a very slight, wicked smile on his face,
but
it goes away just as quickly as he continues to ringside, never once
paying attention to any of the fans. Martin, upon reaching the ring,
does
not lose that sinister look on his face as he slowly makes his way up
the
stairs, the spotlight following his ascent.
Martin ducks between the ropes, entering the ring, where he simply
stands
in the corner, that dark look still in his eyes, another very slight,
wicked smile crossing his face, but that goes away just as quickly as
before. The music slowly dies down and the lights slowly come back to
normal, but Martin's cold demeanor does not change a bit.]
SS: Boy, now here's a dream team for you.
AM: I'd take my chances with their opponents tonight.
DH: And their opponents! Introducing first...
[Aerosmith's "Walk On Water" hits the PA to a loud pop!]
DH: From Baton Rouge, Louisiana, weighing in two hundred and sixty-five
pounds...
BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRREEETT GRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEENE!
[Brett emerges from the locker rooms as DaMann and Martin pace around
the
ring. Dressed in his customary less-is-more wrestling gear along with
a
black knee brace on his right knee, Brett marches down to ringside and
turns as his music fades away, a smirk crossing his face as a small,
bass
drumbeat is heard over the PA. The fans go crazy as three more follow,
each more intense than the last.]
AM: You look worried, Sam.
SS: Huh? Who? Me?! No!
[* B O O O O O O O O M M !*
The crowd pops as an incredibly loud thunderclap sound echoes from the
speakers, accompanied by a single, blindingly-bright, jagged electric
flash flaring from the wall nearest the arena entrance! Immediately,
the
big screen shows scenic panoramas of an island during a storm, and
hollow-sounding drumbeats and reedy-toned woodwinds form an ominous
tune
(amongst the backdrop of the thunderstorm) over the PA. HUGE POP!]
SS: Come on, Derek! I've got a chair over here if you need it!
AM: The very picture of confidence, Sam Steeley.
[The behemoth form of Tumaffi steps forth from the curtain to the
delight
of both the crowd and Brett Greene. The monstrous Samoan pays the fans
little mind as he marches down the aisle, faster than usual. A
mountain
of muscle and fat, the dark-toned Tumaffi has massive shoulders, thick
limbs, and a big round gut. His hair is nearly as mountainous as his
physique, as he sports a wild black mane that would make a lion
envious!
His long, cascading hair and beard seem connected in a way that leaves
little visible determining point as to where one ends and the other
begins. So hairy is the man that it is difficult to make out his
brown-eyed, big-nosed face.]
DH: And his partner!
>From the Island of Samoa, weighing in at four hundred and five pounds,
he
is the Unified Television Champion...
TUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUMAAAAAAAAAAFFIIIIIIIII!
[Clad in a loose flowing black silk robe with a dark-colored floral
design, with the UWF Unified Television Championship draped over a
shoulder, Tumaffi strides up the ring steps and onto the apron. He
straight-away steps through the ropes to another pop, and as Brett
rolls
into the ring DaMann flees to the outside. Shedding his robe to reveal
full-length black trunks with metallic copper outlined patterns on it
(depicting a beachfront storm), and taped bare feet, Tumaffi marches
right up to Derek Martin and attacks!]
DR: And we're already underway before the bell! Martin and Tumaffi are
waging a war inside the ring, but look at Trey DaMann!
AM: He wants no part of Brett Greene whatsoever!
[Brett stands by the ropes and points at DaMann, daring him to get in
the
ring as behind him Martin is hammered by Tumaffi to the corner and
levelled with overhand chops. Derek fights back with a couple of
closed
fists and then a forearm, but it doesn't budge the big man. Brett
turns
and shrugs at the referee before climbing out to the apron, and the
bell
rings to officially begin the match.]
DR: I guess it's legally Martin and Tumaffi to begin.
AM: You try telling Tumaffi to get out of the ring right now.
[Martin gets a thumb into Tumaffi's eye, getting him to stagger
backwards
and Derek escapes from the corner. As Martin drives a knee into his
gut,
DaMann climbs back onto the ring apron and holds out his hand for the
tag. It's retracted as Tumaffi comes back and rocks Martin with a
cross-chop to the throat, and once Derek is doubled up a rain of
forearms
to the back leaves him pounded down to his knees.]
DR: It's not pretty, but it sure is effective.
SS: Being in there with that fat slob is like a permanent handicap
match,
how is a guy supposed to withstand that?
[Tumaffi picks Derek up across his back for what appears to be a Samoan
Drop, but as he does Trey sneaks in and attempts to clothesline the big
man. Tumaffi simply ducks underneath the clothesline and manages to
grab
DaMann atop Martin, the weight of both men shouldered by the
champion...
BOOM!]
AM: DEAR GOD, A DOUBLE SAMOAN DROP! Incredible!
DR: This building has gone crazy!
[DaMann rolls back to the ropes, and as soon as he gets up Brett Greene
roars across the ring and sends him flying out of the ring to the
floor!
Brett returns to the corner at the insistence of the official, as
Tumaffi
peppers Martin with more clubbing blows on the mat. Martin manages to
disengage himself from Tumaffi and slows him with a hard shot to the
side
of the head, and then gets back to his feet. A kick to the head again
slows Tumaffi, then a legdrop smashes him facefirst to the mat.
Brett cringes, and Martin rolls on top of Tumaffi and tries for the
first
pin attempt of the match.
1!
2!
Kickout!]
DR: No! Tumaffi gets right out of the pinfall much to the dismay of
Derek Martin!
SS: Oh, rub it in.
[Martin gets up and walks to the corner, shoves Trey in the chest and
turns to the referee: "That's a tag." DaMann comes in and hits a
standing dropkick into the back of Tumaffi's head as the Samoan gets
back
to his feet...
...unfortunately it seems to have zero damage whatsoever as Trey gets
back up with huge grin that dissapears when he realizes his best shot
has
all the effect of a collision with a butterfly. Tumaffi looks
irritated
at Trey before chopping him out of the way to go after Martin again!]
AM: Talk about a one track mind, Tumaffi's ignoring the legal man to
get
his hands on Martin!
DR: Trey's got him by the arm, here's an irish whip across the ring...
and Brett Greene tags into the match!
SS: Eep!
[Tumaffi's interest in the match drops as Brett enters the ring off the
blind tag, and though he steps out to the apron his eyes remain fixed
on
Derek. In the ring Brett comes after DaMann and blasts him with a
running clothesline to the corner, then starts to hammer away on him
with
a series of mounted punches. DaMann shudders with each shot, until
Martin reaches in with the ref's back momentarily turned and yanks
Greene
all the way to the mat by the waistband of his tights. Martin sneers
at
his partner: "That's how you beat Brett Greene."
DaMann immediately drops an elbow into the sternum of Greene, and pulls
him up by the arm for a side headlock. He turns it into a short-arm
clothesline, except Brett counters with a duck into a go-behind and a
belly-to-back suplex on the mat. Brett floats over and uses a lateral
press for the pin attempt...
1!
2!
Shoulder up! DaMann argues with the ref over the quickness of the
count
until Brett grabs his wrist and yanks the younger wrestler to his feet,
tying him up with a hammerlock and staying just out of reach of a
backwards elbow.
In the meantime, Tumaffi has grown bored of the match and makes his way
down the outside apron to go after Martin once again!]
DR: Action on the outside again, Tumaffi's coming after his nemesis
even
while he's not the legal man in the match! Martin stuns him with a
kick
to the stomach there on the floor, and a big boot to the face now!
AM: Tumaffi stands his ground! Grabs Derek, short-arm lariat knocks
him
off the apron!
[Martin lands on the floor hard, and before he can move out of the way
Tumaffi launches himself off the elevated edge of the ring with a body
attack!
"AIR TU-MAF-FI! *clap clap clapclapclap*!"
"AIR TU-MAF-FI! *clap clap clapclapclap*!"
The arena explodes into cheers as the official tries to order Martin
and
Tumaffi to separate, just as DaMann rolls Brett up with an inside
cradle.
When no pin is counted, Trey releases it and gets up, screaming at the
referee! Brett gets up and grabs DaMann, slings him into the ropes and
lowers his head for a backdrop. A vicious jumping knee to the back of
the head from Trey flattens Brett, and DaMann physically grabs the
referee and spins him around. A warning from the official doesn't do
anything to calm Trey down, but Brett manages to grab him by the tights
and send him through the ropes to the outside.
Martin meanwhile on the outside buys a bit of time with a low blow on
Tumaffi, then rolls into the ring and grabs him by his giant head.
Repeated knees and elbow strikes leave him reeling, and Derek rises to
his feet. He motions for Tumaffi to stagger back up, then as soon as
he
does Derek grabs Tumaffi with a 3/4 bulldog headlock and tries to snap
him to the mat with his patented Ace Crusher, but The End backfires as
Tumaffi plants his feet, stands his ground, and Martin hits the mat
without his opponent! Tumaffi follows this up by simply falling
backwards on top of Martin, then as the crowd cheers he tries to dig
Derek's eyeballs out of his skull.]
SS: Come on, get that savage out of there!
AM: Greco-Samoan wrestling at its finest, Sam.
[Trey climbs back onto the ring apron and is greeted by a hard closed
fist from Brett, who tries a suplex to bring him back into the ring.
Trey holds the ropes and blocks it, then goes for a suplex on Brett to
the outside. Brett's turn to use the ropes to save himself, and a
kneelift through the ropes allows him to hiptoss Trey much to the
billionaire's shock. The ref meanwhile manages to pull Tumaffi off of
Martin, and Derek rolls to the floor to get a moment's rest. The
samoan
wildman comes right after him though and renews the fight on the
outside,
the two men exchanging chops and fists!
Trey pops up and tries a low blow on Greene, but Brett blocks it with
his
knee and doubles his foe up into powerbomb position. The former Pride
charter member hoists DaMann up over his head, and with fluid movement
slams him into the canvas with tremendous force as the Brett Bomb draws
a
pop! Brett rolls over and hooks a leg...
1!
2!
3!]
AM: GOT HIM!
SS: NO!
["Walk On Water" hits the PA system, while on the outside Tumaffi
continues to go after Martin without cessation. Brett sits up with a
smile on his face and then rises to his feet moments later, raises his
arm in victory and mounts the turnbuckles. Trey lays staring up at the
lights, almost frozen in shock. The camera gets in close on DaMann's
expression, as he remains flat on his back with his eyes wide open and
mouth hanging open.]
DH: Here are your winners...
THE TEAM OF TUMAFFIIIIIIIII AND BRRRRRRRREEEEEEETT
GREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEENE!
[Brett is the first to leave the ringside area, after attempting to
celebrate with Tumaffi but them deciding to give up. Martin and
Tumaffi
continue to throw punches at each other and brawl up the aisle with
security trying to pull them apart. DaMann is the last to leave, still
in abject disbelief over the match decision, shellshocked as he
staggers
out.]
DR: I'd say Trey DaMann's perfect world just got shattered.
AM: He looked right past Brett Greene, and it bit him in the ass
tonight.
SS: He's resilient, he'll be back.
AM: Of course he will, I'm not that lucky.
["Listen Up" by the Misfits fires up over the PA system and the crowd
starts booing immediately. The curtains part and Indigo Browne backs
her way out first, the video camera rolling. The Unitron feed cuts to
images from Indigo's camera as she makes her way down the aisle. The
REC telltale flashes across the screen as first Marissa Monet makes her
way between the curtains and stops and then Dalbello Rage issues out.
Marissa is decked out in a very brief floral print miniskirt that
dances
with every step, displaying the unending length of her hyper muscular
legs. She wears a midriff-baring baby T to complete the outfit.
Dalbello minces down the aisle in a bikini top and square cut
bottom-hugging hoochie shorts. She rolls along in casual flip flop
sandals, maybe a tribute to her Canadian laissez-faireness. As she
passes the Unitron captures a good number of the men in the aisles
ogling as she hip-rolls her way down the aisle. She cradles Mr. Boo
Boo
in the crook of her right arm, scratching him behind the ears with her
left. Mr. Boo Boo seems remarkably at ease with her.
The Misfits take the ring, strolling around the four corners as if they
are putting themselves on casual display for the fans.]
SS: That's the baby mama stroll!
DR: The what?
SS: Yeah, the baby mama stroll. You gotta get down to the projects
sometime and see how these girls strut around the basketball courts.
You'll be praying to God that you have money for some Similac in your
pockets.
AM: You're a pig, Steeley.
DR: (whispering) Let's talk after show.
AM: DAVE!!!!
SS: Hey, a man's a man!
[In the ring, Dalbello and Marissa pause midring, Dalbello's got one
hip
jutting out, Mr. Boo Boo perched on it as if he were a human baby.
(Blasted lucky cat.)]
Dalbello: The Misfits have come down here tonight to clear up a little
misconception. For some reason people think we're bad girls. We're
not
bad girls. We just don't play nice. We play rough. But it's not like
we're too rough.
MM: No, I mean, we might like to throw our fists around a little bit
and
put a foot up an ass here and there, but other than that, you know
what,
we're a pair of [beep]ing ladies.
Dalbello: (smiling) Oh yeah, see, we talk so pretty. We're dainty.
Marissa's scared of spiders.
[At that Marissa makes a show of cringing at the sight of an
eight-legged creepy crawly.]
Dalbello: We're just a couple of fine girls looking for a good time in
the ring. That's it. And all we want is someone to give it to us.
SS: I'll give it to you, Dalbello. Turn around and I'll give it to
you.
AM: Sam, stop it!
SS: Don't bother with me. Hey, why don't you check where Rogers' hand
is right now.
AM: DAVE!
SS: Ha! I'm not the only one!
MM: The funny thing about the UWF is that it is a place of such
extremes. I mean you have the pretty Love sisters on one hand who are
genuinely sweet and nice people. And then you have a pair of
psychopaths like the Kindred running around trying to self-mutilate and
mutilate anybody who crosses their path. They have an unhealthy
obsession with blood. It really isn't normal.
Dalbello: And then you have us. Just a pair of average, normal girls.
There was a time when the Misfits were considered too brash, too bad
and
too mean to be normal girls. I mean because we liked fighting and
scratching and getting a little drunk every once in a while the people
thought we were just too much and poor examples of womanhood. But now
look at the alternative. The Misfits are everything that's good about
femininity right now. We obviously keep ourselves in good shape.
[She gestures towards Marissa Monet who flourishes for Indigo's camera.
She strikes a few poses, showing off her musculature and her glamour at
the same time.]
MM: We cook.
Dalbello: Marissa can throw down in the kitchen, believe me. My
brother
loves eating by her every night.
[Marissa pauses, biting her lip in embarrassment. She leans down
towards Dalbello and whispers.]
MM: He didn't say 'by.'
Dalbello: Oh? OH! OH!!!! Well, excuse me, I guess I put a
preposition
where it didn't belong. Anyway, whatever she's feeding my brother he's
extremely happy.
[At that Marissa winks.]
Dalbello: What is your secret, Marissa?
MM: Fresh pineapple and mango.
Dalbello: See, the Misfits teach you something new everyday.
AM: Actually, they do. Fresh pineapple and mango, huh?
SS: What are you talking about?
AM: Hush.
MM: We're women who like sports. You know you can kick back and watch
basketball with us, watch wrestling, boxing, World Cup football,
American football. And if you have a beer or something in hand well,
Lady D, here has somewhere you can rest your head or set down your
beer.
[She eyes Dalbello's backside suggestively.]
"SHE'S A BRICKHOUSE!" "SHE'S A BRICKHOUSE!" "SHE'S A BRICKHOUSE!"
Dalbello: As if you haven't carried a few beers yourself, 'riss.
MM: Shadoe's a rum drinker. I've given him a few places on my back to
take shots.
[Did she just say back shots? Well, the crowd seems to think she did
because the men are cheering.]
Dalbello: You nasty ... Anyway, you see, we're out here to
rehabilitate
our image. We are good girls. We are fine women. We're about
something. See, I'm even nice to small furry animals.
[Dalbello lifts Mr. Boo Boo off her hip and holds him up to the crowd.]
Dalbello: See this little cat right here? This cat has been the source
of several violent encounters in the UWF. Lolita Love actually took a
sword to a woman because of this cat. What kind of woman does
something
like that?
DR: What is she even doing with Lolita's cat, in the first place?
[Suddenly, Nikka Costa's "Like a Feather" cues and the crowd cheers.]
AM: It looks like we're about to find out.
[All eyes turn to the entrance ramp, where The Love Sisters exit the
curtains, both of their expressions solemn. Leanna wears a black, tank
top, grey sweats, and tennis, her blonde hair in a ponytail. Meanwhile,
Lolita wears a cropped, blue T-shirt and jeans, completing the look
with
tennis. Her blonde hair falls straight down her back and is parted in
the
middle. As expected, both women are bandaged and brusied, following
their
match with The Kindred. But that doesn't seem to distract them as they
stalk to ringside, gazes focused squarely on the Misfits.]
SS: Ah, man. Things are about to get hot.
[Glaring at The Misfits, The Loves enter the ring, careful to keep
their
eyes on the women's tag team champions. Leanna motions for a microphone
and is handed one by a ringside attendant. She immediately hands it off
to Lolita, who speaks once the noise quiets.]
Lolita: Honestly, I'm beginning to wonder if we have to beat every
bitch's ass in here before they learn to leave my [Bleep]ing cat alone.
[There's a shocked pop from the crowd.]
AM: Wow. That's some language from Lolita Love.
DR: After their encounter with The Kindred, I think it would be safe to
say that the Love Sisters the fans remembered are a distant memory.
That's especially the case with Lolita.
SS: Yeah, she's a little spitfire now. Hmmm. Wonder if she's finally
started putting out for One-Winged Angel yet.
AM: Just when I think you can't get any more crass.
SS: What can I say, Red? It's a gift.
Lolita: I guess we didn't quite get the message across, when we were
dealing with the Kindred, huh?
[Lolita shakes her head.]
Lolita: Whatever. Listen, I don't know why you're out here, skanking it
up, Dalbello. And truthfully? I don't care. All I do know is that I
don't
want my cat anywhere near any of this. He's been traumatized enough.
So,
if you will kindly hand him over, we can be on our way and leave you
here
to drop it like it's hot or whatever the Hell you called yourself
doing.
[Lolita holds out her hand.]
Lolita: And we're only asking once.
[As the crowd holds its collective breath Dalbello Rage looks
nonplussed.
She looks at Marissa, Mr. Boo Boo and finally at Lolita Love. She
scratches her head with her free hand as she passes the cat to
Marissa.]
Dalbello: Hold on, are you trying to swell up on me?
Lolita: I didn't stutter.
Dalbello: No seriously. Are you trying to swell up on _me?_
[Leanna and Lolita exchange looks, rolling their eyes, before returning
bored gazes Dalbello's way.]
Dalbello: (turning to Marissa) No, really. Is this little bitch
trying
to swell up on me?
[She spins to face Lolita Love, sliding out of her flip flops to stand
barefoot on the canvas.]
Dalbello: (stabbing her index finger into Lolita's forehead) Little
girl,
don't you dare try to get big on me just because you danced with that
twisted pair of freaks in the Kindred. Listen to me, they are not
tough.
Tough is not cutting people up with swords. Tough is not waxing bad
poetics about the dark nature of man and the joy of blood. That's just
sick. That's all that is. And I'll tell you something little girl,
you
ain't tough, either. Get me?
Lolita: Spare me. Tough also isn't being a nearly forty-something year
old woman, running around like a teenager, shaking an ass that's too
flat
and boobs to her knees.
[Dalbello's eyes open wide at the disrespect. She stares at Leanna.]
Dalbello: You know what, you should really control her. [And now to
Lolita.] Little girl, you want to play tough? Let's play tough.
'Riss.
[Marissa steps forward, holding Mr. Boo Boo by the scruff of the neck.]
Dalbello: Give the lady her cat back.
[Lolita flashes Leanna a quick, wary look.]
HUH?
[Marissa extends Mr. Boo Boo to Lolita Love.]
Dalbello: THe hard way.
[Marissa's eyes roll over white as she smiles that sick smile. She
drops
Mr. Boo Boo. Cats of course land on their feet. That's when Dalbello
makes her move. She steps forward, right leg leading. The action? A
kick. The target? Not Lolita Love. Not Leanna Love. Not Marissa.
Not
Indigo.
The foot aims right for Mr. Boo Boo. At the very last possible moment,
Lolita dives in the way of Dalbello's strike and takes a nasty kick
right
in the abdomen, but the sudden action frightens Mr. Boo Boo and the
frazzled feline jumps out of the ring and scampers into the crowd!
MEEEEEOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWW!
The scream from the cat is almost human as it flees from the ring,
leaving everyone behind.]
AM: Oh my God! Of all the despicable acts I've seen here, this takes
the
cake!
[Lolita, bruised and angered, pounces on Dalbello, spearing her to the
mat. Meanwhile, Leanna eludes a charge from Marissa, lashing out with a
kick that catches Monet in the midsection, doubling her over. She whips
Marissa to the ropes but it's obvious that Monet is stronger, reversing
the whip. As Leanna rebounds, Monet closes her hand over Leanna's
skull.
With a sharp jerk upward she lifts Leanna off her feet and steps
through
her, smashing her to the canvas with the Hand of God!]
SS: Marissa just scored the extra point!
["CATFIGHT! CATFIGHT! CATFIGHT!"
"CATFIGHT! CATFIGHT! CATFIGHT!"
"CATFIGHT! CATFIGHT! CATFIGHT!"
Dalbello and Leanna roll around on the mat with Lolita getting on top.
She rains fists down on Dalbello Rage who shields herself as best she
can
until Lolita raises up to stand over her. Dalbello takes quick
advantage
of the opening. Her leg jerks upwards.]
DR: Dalbello Rage with a blatant low blow.
SS: Ha ha! That's the second pussy she's gone after tonight!
AM & DR: SAM!
SS: What?
[The hunched over Lolita Love is perfect prey for a Perfect Punch. She
staggers backswards, eyes glassy and collapses in a heap as Dalbello
rolls to her feet. The Canadian collects her flip flops. She stands
over Lolita, commanding Indigo to get a tight shot of the anguished
little Love.]
Dalbello: Bitch, that's tough!
[With that said the Misfits hit the aisle. The crowd is booing hotly
now
and garbage flies at the Misfits as they storm to the back. The Loves
leave shortly after this, bruised and limping but the crowd cheering
them.]
AM: What a disgusting ploy by the women's tag team champions! The
Loves
just came out here to get their cat back, they had no reason to try and
maim their pet!
SS: Well I hope that bimbo learned her lesson finally... LEAVE THE CAT
AT
HOME.
DR: [disgusted tone in his voice] Let's head back down to the ring for
the next match.
____ ___ __ _____________
| | \/ \ / \_ _____/
S | | /\ \/\/ /| __) SATURDAY NIGHT RAMPAGE
N | | / \ / | \.........................
R |______/ \__/\ / \___ / Writer: Mike Sonby
\/ \/
SIX MAN TAG TEAM CONTEST:
The Cornerstones & Madison J. Valentine
versus Don't Go There & Colby Greene
......................................................
DH: The following contest is a six man tag team contest, scheduled for
one fall! Introducing first...
# Holy Calamity! Scream Insanity! #
[And a loud heel pop rises, with a hardcore minority relishing the joys
to be had chanting "Em Jiggy Vee! Em Jiggy Vee!" The man himself is
rather mirthless by comparison as he blows through the curtain, on to
the
stage, striding down the aisle with all but the ring -- including the
outreached hands of young fans -- excluded from his vision by the
lowering of a furrowed brow.]
DH: From Ottawa, Ontario, Canada, weighing two-hundred and fifteen
pounds...
MADISON! J! VAAAAAAAAAAAAAALEEEEEEEEEENTIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINE!
And his partners, representing the Pride here is the team of
"HELLRAISER"
TOM LANDIS... DANIEL KIDD...
THE COOOOOOOOORRRRRRRNEEEEEEEEEEEEERSTOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONESSSS!
[Kidd and Landis emerge from the back after Valentine is about halfway
down the aisle, and the finely-muscled, 31-year-old former RCW star
wears
his traditional ring attire of patent black trunks and kneesavers with
white boots. The duo catches up to Valentine, and while a slight bit
of
friction is apparent in this team, they slide into the ring together.]
SS: Here's a well oiled machine. Dan and Tom will take Madison under
their wing and carry him to victory.
DH: And their opponents! Introducing first...
[The house lights dim and "Superstar II" by Saliva kicks off on the
speakers. A smoke machine goes off around the entrance portal and a
strobe light flashes while the second-generational wrestler emerges
from
the back to a decent sized pop from the crowd. ]
DH: From Baton Rouge, Louisiana, he weighs in at two hundred and
sixty-one pounds... THE BABY BULL...
"THE BAYOUUUUUUU BADBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOYYYY" COOOOOLLLLLLLLBYYYYY
GRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEENNNE!
And his partners, the team of "NIGHTHAWK" MICHAEL BONN... "HENTAI" RYU
OSAWA...
DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOON'T GOOOOOOOOOOO THERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRE!
[Colby enters the arena, flanked by Ryu and Bonn on either side of him.
The threesome marches down the aisle as around them the fans cheer
loudly.]
DR: I think we're about to see an absolute war. Greene and Valentine
may
be newcomers to UWF viewers but they have a long and storied history
between one another. And Valentine's betrayal last week has just
poured
gasoline on a still smouldering fire.
[A six-man brawl imemdiately breaks out, as Colby Greene charges at
Madison J. Valentine, pummeling him with forearms. As Colby attack
Madison, Ryu Osawa and Tom Landis fight in one corner, while Michael
Bonn
and Daniel Kidd fight in another. The Cornerstones take control and
signal to each other for a double Irish whip... but Don't Go There
reverse the Irish whip, and the Cornerstones run into each other. A
double dropkick by Bonn and Ryu send Kidd and Landis tumbling over the
top rope, while a Colby Greene bodyslam sends Madison J. Valentine
scurrying out of the ring, leaving the faces in the ring, getting
cheers
from the crowd.]
AM: Colby Greene and Don't Go There with an early lead.
SS: Doesn't matter. Valentine and the Cornerstones are letting them
wear themselves out.
AM: Yeah- I'm sure Colby Greene is going to wear out his arms hitting
Valentine over and over.
[The heels demand that the referee order Colby Greene and Don't Go
There
back, and they reluctantly do so. The heels re-enter the ring, and
Daniel Kidd motions for Colby Greene. As Greene turns to face Kidd,
Madison J. Valentine catches Greene with a shot to the back of the
head,
stunning Greene. He bounces off the ropes and catches Greene with a
high-cross bodyblock that sends both men over the ropes onto the floor.
Meanwhile, Ryu bounces off the ropes and is caught by a standing
dropkick
from Daniel Kidd. Michael Bonn catches Tom Landis with an axehandle
shot
to the head, driving Landis to the mat. Kidd picks up Osawa by the
hair
and whips him to the ropes, and attempts a clothesline on the rebound.
Ryu ducks underneath and catches Daniel Kidd with an enzuigiri, sending
Kidd sprawling over. While Colby chases MJV around the ring, Ryu joins
Bonn in grabbing one of Tom Landis' legs and...]
AM: Make-a-wish!
SS: Ow.
[Ryu and Bonn hit Landis with a double elbowdrop. As Bonn signals for
another wishbone, Daniel Kidd comes flying off the second rope and
hitting Bonn on the top of his head with an elbow. Ryu starts to go
over, but is tripped up by Landis, who grabs Ryu by the back of his
head
and begins rubbing his face into the mat. Daniel Kidd pokes Michael
Bonn
in the eyes then begins blatantly choking him out.]
DR: These two teams have been fighting for several months, and have no
like or respect for each other.
[The referee goes to separate Landis and Ryu- giving Michael Bonn a
chance to deliver a low blow to Daniel Kidd. Kidd doubles over in
pain,
and Bonn leaps over, delivering an axe handle shot to Landis.]
SS: You know, I can't stand to see what a wuss Michael Bonn has
become.
Especially since, every once in a great while, he still shows signs of
promise.
[The referee is finally able to spearate the teams, and the tag teams
go
back towards their corners as Colby Greene throws MJV back under the
ropes, then climbs in himself. He greets Valentine with a kneedrop to
the top of his head, then begins pummeling away at Valentine.]
DR: Em Jiggy Vee is not getting a warm welcome for this match.
SS: Dave, you're a great guy and a fantastic announcer, but I'm begging
you... don't ever say the phrase "Em Jiggy Vee" again. It's like Amy
singing the praises of Tumaffi- it doesn't work.
[Greene covers Valentine, but MJV kicks out at one. Greene picks up
Valentine and whips him to the ropes, and on the rebound goes for a
clothesline. But Valentine ducks underneath and takes Greene down with
a
Russian Legsweep. He reaches over and tags in Daniel Kidd, who hops
off
the second rope to greet Colby Green with an elbowdrop to the head,
then
covers for a one count.]
DR: Daniel Kidd picks up Colby Greene... and takes him down with an
enzuigiri!
SS: Such a shame. Colby could have been learning under Kidd, if he
wasn't as pigheaded as Brett. *lamentable sigh*
[Kidd tags in Landis, and they whip Greene into the ropes, delivering a
double elbow on the rebound. Landis makes a cover, but Greene kicks
out
at one. Landis tags in Kidd, and the two pick up Greene for a double
atomic drop. Landis and Kidd whip Greene to the ropes again...]
AM: Clothesline by Colby Greene on both Landis and Kidd! He takes
both
of the Cornerstones down!
DR: And Greene tags in Michael Bonn... the Cornerstones show their
ring
smarts, though. By staying on their side of the ring, Tom Landis is
able
to tag in Madison J. Valentine before Bonn can reach them.
[Bonn and MJV lock up, with Bonn taking Valentine over in a headlock.
MJV lifts Bonn up, but Bonn flips over and lands on his feet. Bonn
delivers a standing dropkick to the back of Valentine, sending him into
the ropes. On the rebound, Bonn goes for a high-cross bodyblock, but
Valentine ducks underneath, and Bonn crashes into the mat. MJV grabs
Bonn and delivers a side salto suplex, then runs to the ropes for an
Asai
Moonsault- that misses as Bonn rolls over. Both men get to their
feet-
and think alike, each attempting to deliver a leg lariat that misses,
sending them both to the mat. They get up again slowly, eyeing each
other warily.]
AM: Michael Bonn held the cruiserweight title longer than any man in
UWF
history. A singles match between him and Valentine could be a classic.
SS: The old, cutthroat Michael Bonn? Sure. This new wave, happy to
hang around with a dorky Japanese guy? No way.
[Valentine reaches over and tags in Daniel Kidd. Kidd enters slowly,
pointing at Bonn's partner. Ryu hops up, begging to be tagged in.
Michael Bonn reaches over and tags in Ryu, letting Osawa enter the
ring.
He and Kidd go to lock up...]
DR: Thumb to the eye blinds Osawa! And Kidd fires off a series of
punches, bringing Osawa to his knees.
SS: Classic ring strategy by Kidd. Any wannabe wrestlers should be
taking notes.
[Kidd smashes a forearm into Osawa's head, then runs to the ropes. As
he
rebounds, Osawa leaps up, and takes Kidd over with a hurricanrana!
Osawa
quickly hops up to the second rope and legdrops Kidd, then covers for a
two count.]
AM: At 180 pounds, Ryu Osawa is one the lightest male wrestler in the
UWF. But he's also the quickest, and showing it off here.
SS: And he's going to get pounded in a minute.
[The fans, led by Greece, start up a "We Want Trice!" chant. Ryu gets
a
goofy grin on his face as he grabs Kidd from behind and...]
DR: Cross-Face Chicken Wing! Osawa trying to get a submission hold!
SS: Oh great... now the fans are calling out the moves.
[Or calling out something, as the new chant is "BIG BUCKING CHICKEN!"
The referee asks for a submission, but instead Ryu Osawa is greeted
with
a boot to the head by Tom Landis. This brings Bonn into the ring, as
well as Colby Greene and MJV. As Colby Greene muscles Valentine into a
corner, Landis and Bonn trade punches. Ryu gets back to his feet,
picks
up Kidd and throws him out of the ring. Landis' Irish Whip is reversed
by Bonn, and on the rebound Bonn picks him up in a tilt-a-whirl
backbreaker. As Bonn holds Landis over his knee...]
AM: Flying elbowdrop by Ryu Osawa! Excellent teamwork by Don't Go
There. Despite their differences, they have really formed a good tag
team.
[Bonn covers Landis...
1...
2...]
DR: Madison Valentine breaks the count!
[Bonn and Valentine start trading shots, while a rising Landis is
greeted
by Osawa. Colby Greene starts to stand back up...
CRACK!]
DR: Daniel Kidd, from outside the ring, just clobbered Colby Greene
with
a chair!
AM: And the referee's back was turned- he missed that shot by Kidd.
[Kidd re-enters the ring and begins choking out Greene in the corner.
Landis grabs Ryu and throws him out of the ring, then joins over with
Kidd to begin pummeling Greene. The referee finally separates Bonn and
Valentine, ordering Bonn back to his corner. Valentine goes to his
corner as well- and joins the Cornerstones in hammering away at Greene.
DR: It's a three on one attack on Colby Greene!
SS: Yeah- ain't it great?
[The referee tries to stop the assault, but is ignored as all three
heels
continue to attack Greene. With a growl, Greene charges forward,
knocking Kidd and Valentine to the ground as Greene grabs Tom Landis
and
slams him to the mat with a uranage chokeslam!]
AM: You're right, Sam... that is great!
SS: No! I mean, not when Colby... ack!
[Greene stomps away at Landis before pulling him up and taking him down
with a gutwrench powerbomb. He covers...
1...
2...
KICKOUT!]
DR: Greene reaches over and tags in Michael Bonn, who comes off the
ropes with an elbowdrop to Landis.
[Bonn covers for another two count, then grabs Landis and whips him to
the corner. Bonn charges in and Landis moves to the left, causing
Bonn
to hit the turnbuckle. Landis boots Bonn to the stomach and DDTs him,
then tags in Kidd. The duo deliver a double suplex to Bonn with Kidd
covering Bonn...
1...
2...
KICKOUT!
Kidd throws Bonn into his corner, where Madison Valentine grabs Bonn
and
necksnaps him over the top rope. As Bonn flies backwards, Kidd grabs
him
in a neckbreaker, then covers again...
1...
2...
KICKOUT!]
DR: The Cornerstones and MJV have taken control of the match, working
over Michael Bonn with double-team moves.
SS: The fans might be booing, but you know what? Kidd and Landis are
Pride. They don't care.
[Kidd tags in MJV and holds down Bonn's legs as Valentine climbs up the
turnbuckle and leaps off with a moonsault. Instead of covering,
Valentine tags in Landis, who grabs Bonn in a fisherman's suplex and
plants him to the mat, holding on...
1...
2...
KICKOUT!
Landis grabs Bonn in a front facelock, and Bonn tries to tag out to
Colby
Greene. The larger Landis holds him back, and Bonn struggles... then
shifts direction and lifts up Tom Landis...]
AM: Reverse atomic drop! That breaks the facelock and Bonn leaps over
to...
SS: Madison Valentine enters the ring! The referee orders him to go
back to his corner...
AM: Tag! Bonn tags Greene and...
SS: The referee didn't see it! He's ordering Greene back!
DR: Colby Greene is protesting, but referee Scott Ingraham is not
backing down.
AM: And while the referee is arguing with Colby Greene, all three of
Landis, Kidd, and Valentine are working over Bonn.
SS: It's a thing of beauty, seeing them in action.
[Greene finally goes back as Landis and Kidd hold down Bonn's legs and
Madison Valentine leaps off with a top rope elbowdrop...]
DR: It connects! Here's the cover!
1...
2...
...
KICKOUT!
DR: Only by half a count, by Michael Bonn lives on!
[Valentine delivers a spinning bootscrape to the face of Bonn, and tags
Landis back in. Landis grabs Bonn and lifts him up...]
DR: High-angle powerbom.... REVERSED INTO A HURRICANRANA by Bonn!
AM: Bonn's been in the ring a long time. He needs to tag out quickly.
SS: After the beat's he's taking, I don't think he'll be able to.
[Bonn lies on the mat, near Landis, neither man able to get up. The
referee starts a double count, with Landis sitting up at four. He
rolls
over onto Bonn's legs and reaches out to tag in Madison J. Valentine.]
SS: OK, typical Pride Ring Smarts. You're hurt and need to tag out,
but
you can't risk Bonn tagging out. Well, in this case you can because
all
he can bring in is Birdbrain Osawa or Brett's illegitimate dumb nephew.
But it's good practice to stop him from tagging, so Landis trapped
Bonn's
leg as he did so. The Pride at work... it's like watching
Michaelangelo
paint.
[Amy rolls her eyes as Valentine enters the ring and Landis exits.
Valentine makes the cover...
1...
2...
KICKOUT!
Valentine stands up, runs to the side, bounces off the ropes...]
DR: Asai moonsault... to Bonn's knees! Valentine clutches his ribs in
pain, and Bonn survives another assault!
[As Valentine recovers, Bonn rolls over. Valentine leaps forward,
trying
to grab Bonn before he...]
DR: TAGS! Here comes Colby Greene!
SS: Ah, dammit.
[Greene enters, pointing a finger at Valentine. MJV gets back to his
feet, still clutching his ribs, staring at Greene. Greene cracks his
knuckles as he takes a step towards Valentine...]
DR: HERE COMES KIDD AND LANDIS! The Cornerstones enter the ring and
jump Greene from behind!
AM: And Ryu Osawa jumps in to help out Greene- this match has broken
down again!
[Osawa leaps at Daniel Kidd, tackling him. Greene is able to shove Tom
Landis out of the ring, but Valentine grabs Greene by the neck and
begins
choking him. Greene pushes himself backwards, sandwiching MJV between
himself and the corner, and starts hammering Valentine. A rake of the
face slows Greene down, and gives Valentine a chance to slip through
the
ropes.]
DR: MJV outside the ring, with Colby Greene following him! They start
to brawl outside the ring.
AM: And Ryu Osawa is greeting Daniel Kidd with a series of spinkicks,
stunning the Pridesman with his speed.
SS: And here comes Tom Landis to put an end to that.
[Landis enters the ring and levels Osawa with a clothesline. He helps
Kidd up, and the duo grab Osawa for a double suplex...]
DR: They lift... Michael Bonn with a diving tackle to take out Landis,
and Osawa rolls up Kidd in a small package!
1...
2...
...
KICKOUT!
[Bonn throws Landis out of the ring, and he and Osawa whip Kidd to the
ropes. On the rebound, a double superkick nearly takes Kidd's head
off.
Ryu Osawa grabs Daniel Kidd's arm and locks in an armwringer/heel kick
combination... letting go as Bonn nails a floatover DDT on Kidd.]
AM: Fatality has taken away their manager, their cameraman, and their
mascot...
SS: Or as I like to call them, "the old broad, the loudmouth union
gal,
and lunch."
AM: ... but Don't Go There was developed into a very good tag team.
[Outside the ring, Colby Greene tackles MJV on the aisleway. He starts
pummeling MJV in the face, until a low blow doubles Greene over.
Valentine grabs Greene and lifts the big man up in a snap suplex, then
begins blatantly choking him out. Greene stands up, grabs Valentine by
the legs, and delivers a standing spinebuster to break the chokehold.]
DR: The referee is trying to bring Greene and Valentine back into the
ring, but it seems to be a lost cause. Inside the ring, Don't Go There
is putting Daniel Kidd on the top turnbuckle...
[Ryu Osawa climbs one of the neutral corners, signaling for the Rainbow
Ass Inverter. Bonn hooks Kidd in a front facelock as Osawa climbs the
ropes..]
DR: Daniel Kidd fighting back, exchanging shots with Michael Bonn.
And...
[CRACK! Ryu Osawa falls off the turnbuckle, clutching his back.]
AM: Tom Landis just smashed a chair over Osawa's back!
SS: Yes! Pride at their best!
[Landis enters the ring, chair in hand, as Bonn and Kidd continue to
fight on the top turnbuckle. Landis raises the chair and aims for
Bonn...]
DR: Bonn back somersaults off the turnbuckle!
[CRACK!]
AM: Tom Landis just hit Daniel Kidd with the chair!
SS: NO!
DR: He was aiming for Bonn, but Michael Bonn backflipped off the
turnbuckle and Landis hit Kidd by mistake!
[Landis starts to turn around, but a superkick by Osawa takes Landis
over
the ropes. The referee has given up on Greene and Valentine and comes
back to the ring. Kidd sits on the top turnbuckle, wobbly, as Michael
Bonn hooks him in a front facelock sets Kidd's legs on the top
turnbuckle, and hits a DDT.]
AM: DEADFALL! Here's the cover....
1...
2...
...
3!
AM: They did it!
SS: Dammit!
DR: Colby Greene and Madison J. Valentine continue their war outside.
Inside the ring, Don't Go There managed to get a win- and some revenge-
over the Cornerstones.
DH: The winners of this match... COLBY GREENE AND DON'T GO THERE!
DR: A big win for Don't Go There and Colby, but I'm being told we've
got
something big brewing in the back!
[We cut backstage, where we see Scott Daniels wandering the backstage
area. He has his favorite weapon, a lead pipe in his hand.]
SD: Oh Luke... Where are you hiding...
["Hotspot" approaches the UWF Interview set, where Moe Owens is going
over notes with a production assistant.]
SD: Hey Moe. You seen Kinsey around here?
MO: Yeah, a little while ago he was...
[Moe looks up from his clipboard, eyes widening once he sees that pipe
in
Scott's hand.]
MO: He was... just over there... went through those doors.
[Smirking, Scott pats Moe on the shoulder.]
SD: Good man. Thank you Moe.
[Like a madman, Scott grips his lead pipe and turns in the direction
Moe
pointed to. He doesn't get very far however, because he runs right into
the World champion, Alex Martinez who towers over the Pride leader.
Scott
is surprised, and looks right up at Alex. Martinez reaches out and
grabs
the pipe, pulling it out of Scott's grip, and drops it on the floor.]
AM: Present for me Scotty? Ya shouldn't have. Now I gotta get ya
somethin'.
[Martinez raises a hand, and slowly closes his fingers into a fist.
Its
obvious what sort of present he has in mind for the former champ.]
AM: But just so we're clear? The first coupla teeth I knock out are for
what ya did to Samantha. Puttin' out there to get killed? Your own
damn
flesh and blood... That's low Hotspot, even for you.
SD: Okay you know what, spare me your lecture Alex. You think I should
feel bad about putting Samantha in that position. I know I should.
But I don't.
[The champion rolls his eyes in disgust.]
SD: You see Sammie made the decision to be a competitor here in the UWF
on her own. She willingly stepped into this lion's den. You take the
good
times with the bad times, and that is how you progress yourself in this
business.
For yet another year I will be forced to decline any nominations for
Father of the Year, but at least she is toughening up Alex. Injuries
will
heal, but Pride... That is a different beast altogether. And now that
Sammie knows exactly how cut throat this business is, maybe she won't
be
so eager to please all those dumb fans and instead will focus on
achieving success.
AM: You lecturin' me on what it takes to make it? Cut the crap. What ya
did, ya did to save your own ass, not to teach no damn lessons.
Ya wanna teach your kid 'bout pride? Act like ya got some in
yourself.
Everythin' that kid sees ya do? That's what she'll be doin'. Ya ain't
teachin' her to be tough, you're teachin' her how to be a snake.
[Daniels ponders Alex's words for a moment, but shrugs it off.]
SD: You and I have issues Alex. Always have, always will. But as much
as
I love interacting with you, I just don't have the time for you right
now. I'm busy trying to find Kinsey. And when I do, bad things are
going
to happen. Ugly things that that camera right there probably shouldn't
pick up because I might go to jail for what I am about to do. So if you
won't get out of my way, think of poor Sammie and do it for her Alex.
Trust me. She wants it this way.
[Cut to a wild shot, outside in the parking lot. A hustling camera man
catches a grainy shot of Luke Kinsey, red faced and cursing up a storm
stomping around in the parking lot.]
LK: So you take out my personal bodyguard in retaliation? Well played
Daniels, nice job. But something about seeing my good friend Ron get
carted off in an ambulance flicked a switch, so I'm saying the hell
with
it. I'm out here in the parking lot, Daniels, and if you want a piece
of
me then look no further. I'm standing right here in the parking lot,
and
my feet won't move until they're shoved down your throat.
And Martinez, I know you're watching and I know you're just dying to
get
your hands on me because of some misplaced chivalry about Underage
Whore
Head Dropping Gate '06. If you have an itch, why don't you tag along
with
Spotwood. But bring your lunch, Frankenstein, because there ain't no
refs, there ain't no rules and there ain't no one to stop us. It's just
the mud, the blood and the beer, boys, it's man...
[Kinsey points at the camera.]
LK: ...to Superman.
[He hooks a thumb at himself, BVB style.]
LK: It's as simple as it'll ever be. If you want some...some get some.
[Cut back to backstage, where Daniels and Martinez both see Luke on the
interview set monitor. It dissolves back to the standard UWF logo. Both
men appear to be seething.]
SD: Well. Looks like I know where I have to go.
AM: Ya know it's a trap, right?
SD: Well obviously. I expect nothing less from Invader-Luke. But a
man's
gotta do what a man's gotta do.
AM: Well hell, the day I stand by and let you kick an ass I oughta be
kickin' is a day I don't wanna live to see.
Let's do this.
[The two rivals exchange an uneasy glance at one another, but there is
a
nod between the two of them. With that they both turn and head for that
door that leads out into the parking lot.]
AM: Oh my god, we're going to have a rumble in the parking lot! We
need
to get a camera out there!
[The scene fades again backstage to a battered and bruised Love
Sisters.
Leanna is sitting on a wooden bench, holding an ice pack to the back of
her head, while Lolita angrily paces back and forth.]
Lolita: I can't believe Dalbello and Marissa would do something like
this! I know that what Moira and Myra did was horrible but even they
didn't go as far as _hurting_ Mr. Boo Boo. Scaring the heck out of him?
Yes. But even they weren't cruel enough to attack a defenseless
creature!
The Misfits had better pray that he's okay.
Leanna: Calm down, 'Lita.
Lolita: No! I'm not going to calm down! Those two deserve to pay for
what
they've done. You know, Lara Leigh always said that Dalbello was a
nasty
bitch, from dealing with her in the IGA, and I always thought that she
was exaggerating. I'll have to call her to apologize.
[Lolita stops, folding her arms across her chest.]
Lolita: I just...
[Suddenly, a UWF attendant comes rushing over to them.]
Attendant: Lolita, they found your cat!
[Lolita lets out a relieved sigh.]
Lolita: What? Thank God! Is he okay?
Attendant: He's being checked on now. He seems kinda shook up, but they
think he'll be fine. Apparently, some dude in the audience managed to
catch him.
[Leanna stands to her feet as a relieved smile crosses Lolita's lips.]
Lolita: That's great!
Leanna: Where is he now?
Attendant: At the back entrance. And don't worry. I made sure to leave
security watching him, so Dalbello and Marissa can't get to him this
time.
Lolita: Thanks so much, Donnie.
Donnie: [grins] My pleasure, Lolita. I've got a cat of my own. So, I
know
how you feel. I just hope you two get the Misfits for what they did.
They
shouldn't be allowed to get away with hurting defenseless critters.
Lolita: Don't worry. Dalbello and Marissa have no idea what they just
started. Come on, Leanna. Let's go get my baby.
[Lolita and Leanna head off as Donnie waves good-bye. As they leave, we
can pick up snatches of their conversation.]
Leanna: This is so the last time that damned thing leaves home...
[Cut outside the building now as Alex Martinez and Scott Daniels stand
side by side in the parking lot, facing Luke Kinsey...]
AM: This doesn't look too bad.
[...and as the camera pans around, it's revealed that the rest of the
Illuminati has surrounded the odd pairing...]
AM: Oh [meep].
[Kinsey grins at Daniels and the camera catches him offering one word
to
the pair: "Congratulations." And with that, the Outlaws, BVB and
Kinsey
rush them and begin to kick and punch at Hotspot and Alex! The numbers
quickly overwhelm them, and the Outlaws send Martinez crashing into a
stack of wooden pallets as Kinsey holds Scott in a facelock while Von
Braun repeatedly knees him in the kidneys. Together they send Scott
headfirst into the metal garage door with a loud crash, and as Scott
tries to grab at Kinsey's leg a bevy of kicks to the head leaves him
laying.]
SS: Dammit, where's the Pride? Where's Scott's backup?!?
AM: We just saw the Cornerstones in the ring, they may not even know
what
Scott was up to out here. The Sons of Cacophony aren't here tonight
either, and Alex Extreme is off preparing for the main event!
DR: The Illuminati are taking advantage of both Scott Daniels and Alex
Martinez when they're vulnerable and easy prey! They're like vultures!
[Maverick holds a bloody Alex Martinez in a full nelson-style hold as
Doc
Holliday peppers him with repeated shots to the face with his mahogany
cane. Kinsey orders Von Braun to pick a half-conscious Scott Daniels
back up, and as the crowd screams in horror Luke picks Scott up and
piledrives him on the parking lot pavement! Hotspot is left in a heap,
and they drag him over to the lifeless world champion's body, leaving
the
pair side by side.
"C'mon boys, the fun's over."
And with that, Kinsey and the Illuminati head back inside the building.
Cut back to the arena, where the crowd sits in shock.]
AM: That wasn't a fight, that was a mugging, a damn mugging. Scott and
Alex went out there and put their own animosity aside for the time
being,
and were picked apart by the Illuminati!
SS: That wouldn't have happened if Scott had waited to get some real
backup.
AM: Oh please, that was a calculated attack set up by Kinsey and the
rest
of his group and nothing more than that.
DR: Well with that, it's about time for our Main Event. Jessica
Marshall
is once again trying to ruin Alex Extreme, but this time, I'm not so
sure
that she's got the right idea. We're going to see Extreme forced to
team
up with his bitter rival Jason Keening against one of the most
dangerous
tag teams of the past decade, as we just saw, The Outlaws. And the one
thing I wonder when I hear this matchup is this: who hates who more?
AM: Yeah, if anyone could pull Extreme and Keening on the same side,
it's
Doc Holliday. He's only one-half of the Outlaws, but during his
singles
career, suffice to say he's really earned the hatred of both Alex and
Jason. This is one match where these two really might be able to work
together for a while!
SS: I don't think that's going to happen, for three reasons. One, the
hate between Keening and Extreme is in the here and now. Their issues
with Holliday were years ago. Two, Extreme isn't one-hundred percent
physically and Keening isn't one-hundred percent emotionally. And
three,
even if they were the best of friends and on top of their game, they'd
still get destroyed. Brent Maverick and Doc Holliday used to be the
greatest tag team never to step foot in the UWF. Now, they're stepping
into the strongest tag team division in wrestling today, and I don't
think they're going to let a pair of singles wrestlers, no matter how
good, stop them. Fatality knows exactly what she's doing.
AM: Fatality has a habit of overestimating herself. It's going to take
a
lot more than this to ruin Alex Extreme, and I still don't think Jason
Keening is going to let himself be played along by my sister for very
long. Sooner or later, this is all going to come to an end.
DR: Will it be here tonight? Let's find out.
____ ___ __ _____________
| | \/ \ / \_ _____/
S | | /\ \/\/ /| __) SATURDAY NIGHT RAMPAGE
N | | / \ / | \.........................
R |______/ \__/\ / \___ / Writer: Jeremy Steigerwald
\/ \/
MAIN EVENT TAG TEAM CONTEST:
The Outlaws versus Alex Extreme & Jason Keening
......................................................
DH: THE FOLLOWING TAG TEAM CONTEST, SET FOR ONE FALL WITH TV TIME
REMAINING, IS OUR MAIN EVENT FOR THE EVENING!
[The fans give the excited "main event" buzz, which amplifies many
times
as the electric grating opening to "Cowboys From Hell" by Pantera
plays.
The Unitron starts showing an entrance video matching various Outlaws
highspots and promo shots to the tempo of the music.]
DH: ABOUT TO ENTER THE ARENA... HAILING FROM TOMBSTONE, ARIZONA... AT A
TOTAL COMBINED WEIGHT OF FOUR HUNDRED AND SEVENTY POUNDS...
...BRENT MAVERICK AND DOC HOLLIDAY...
...T H E O U T L A W S ! !
[The introduction gets a bit of a mixed reaction, as the majority of
boos
are ringed with a few cheers for the simple fact that this is their old
stomping grounds. The scene cuts backstage where we get an old-school
camera shot of Maverick and Holliday heading down the hallway towards
the
"gorilla position". Holliday smirks and wipes some of the blood left
from his assault on Alex Martinez on the hallway wall.]
AM: Ugh, disgusting.
[Both men are clad in black dusters and 'cowboy' hats, with white
leather
gun belts (complete with guns) around their waists. They wear rust-red
knee-length trunks with five playing cards running down each leg (four
aces and the 21 of Spades, and reddish brown leather 'western' style
boots with an engraved eagle motif along the front sides. Holliday is
twirling one of his shiny silver revolvers around his index finger, and
seems to be asking his partner "please, can't I shoot them just a
little
bit?". Brent snatches the firearm away from his partner and throws it
at
a road agent, yelling "Hold this." He then drags Doc through the
curtain
to the aisleway.]
AM: Thank you, Brent. The last thing we need is Doc Holliday running
around with a firearm in the same crowded area as Alex Extreme and
Jason
Keening.
SS: His gunbelt has two holsters on it.
AM: Can't we pass some sort of rule against them having those?
SS: Second amendment. Maybe in Canada.
AM: ...can we please go back to Ontario for the next, oh, couple years?
[The Outlaws march down the aisle, as the lyric part of the song
starts.
Taking the lead is Brent Maverick, who storms directly towards the
ring.
Doc Holliday, limping a bit and using his mahogany hand-carved cane for
support, follows behind, taking the time to interact with the fans on
either side of the aisle.]
# Under the lights where we stand tall
# Nobody touches us at all
# Showdown, shootout, spread fear within, without
# We're gonna take what's ours to have
# Spread the word throughout the land
# They say the bad guys wear black
# We're tagged and can't turn back
[Holliday catches up to Maverick in time for both Outlaws to enter the
ring in unison, Maverick going under the bottom rope and Holliday
jumping
over the top rope. The fans (**INSERT APPROPRIATE REACTION HERE**) as
The Outlaws take center stage, going to opposite sides of the ring to
play to the crowd. Maverick quickly goes to his corner, now focused
entirely on the match, while Holliday continues to showboat and play to
the crowd.]
#You see us coming
#And you all together run for cover
#We're taking over this town
DR: The Outlaws are looking like they're ready for this. It's an
important point to note that they haven't had top-calibre competition
in
quite some time, though. Since the closure of River City Wrestling,
they've had quite a layoff. They've only had these past few weeks to
get
the rust knocked off, and they've mainly faced Rising Stars Division
competitors in house shows. That really doesn't prepare you to face
the
likes of a Keening or an Extreme.
SS: And the invasion continues while we meekly do nothing...
AM: If it makes you feel better Sam, there'd be nothing that you could
do
about it anyway.
SS: I could buy another rival organization. I hear they're having
trouble in Los Angeles.
AM: Ugh.
#Here we come reach for your gun
#And you better listen my friend, you see
#It's been slow down below,
#Aimed at you we're the cowboys from hell
#Deed is done again, we've won
#Ain't talking no tall tales friend
#Cause high noon, your doom
#Coming for you we're the cowboys from hell
DH: AND THEIR OPPONENTS...
[And then, the music cuts. The lights drop down to a very dim purple
as
"The Way I Am" by Eminem starts over the PA. As it does, we again cut
backstage. This time, it's Alex Extreme walking down the hallway.
Extreme is wearing a black and neon blue leather jacket, a black
t-shirt
with a big huge clumsly splashed big X in neon purple on it, Ray Ban
wafer shades and a pair of neon blue and black swirled spandex pants.
As
he arrives at the "gorilla position", he suddenly and abruptly comes
nose
to nose with his tag team partner, Jason Keening. Keening glares at
Extreme, raising a finger to his chest as if to let him know that he'll
be watching him. Extreme angrily slaps the hand away and shouts out,
"Just do your job!", and heads for the curtain. He stops at the
curtain
for a moment, to see if Keening will follow, but the Native American
grappler simply stands aloof with folded arms. And so, Extreme turns
in
a huff and goes through the curtain alone.]
SS: I give it three minutes tops before they try and kill one another.
DR: It is not a good sign when a tag team partner doesn't even trust
you
enough to come to the ring with you.
AM: Jason's straight-laced to a fault. Sometimes I think he really has
forgotten how to forgive and to trust.
[Back in the arena, strobe lights randomly flash through the darkness
and
surging hazy purple smoke as Eminem's "The Way I Am" continues to blast
through the speakers at full tilt...]
***FFFFFFFFFFFFFFSSSSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!***
[A white light blinds the the crowd, and the arena then goes pitch
black.]
(KAABOOM!!!)
(KAABOOM!!!)
(KAABOOM!!!)
(KAABOOM!!!)
[Through the smoky purple haze and pyro walks "Mr. Excitement" Alex
Extreme . The spotlights converge on the Mr. Excitement as they
alternate
between white, blue, pink, and purple. Extreme glistens in the arena
lights as he throws a few lefts and rights into the air and heads to
ringside.]
DH: INTRODUCING FIRST, COMING DOWN THE AISLE... FROM CHICAGO,
ILLINOIS...
WEIGHING IN AT TWO-HUNDRED AND THIRTY-THREE POUNDS...
..."M I S T E R E X C I T E M E N T" A L E X E X T R E M E !
!
DR: Alex Extreme is STILL not at one-hundred percent. We're told the
injuries suffered at the hands of Serge Annis were more extensive than
at
first feared, and For the past two months, Extreme has maintained most
of
his normal house show schedule against physician's advice. He's down
from his normal ring weight because he hasn't been able to train as
extensively as he usually does due to the injuries.
AM: He hates to disappoint the fans.
SS: That can't be true. He showed up, didn't he?
[Extreme walks up the steps, glares furiously at Doc Holliday, who is
leaning in the corner, and then jumps into the ring. He then hops upon
the top turnbuckle and throws his arms in the air to a mixed reaction.
"The Way I Am" cuts out in mid-pose, which seems to annoy Extreme a
bit.]
DH: AND HIS TAG TEAM PARTNER...
[The crowd surges to its feet and begins to cheer in recognition as
the opening chords to Audioslave's "Your Time Has Come" begin playing
over the P.A. loudspeakers. As yet, noone comes out of the curtain.]
# Now one fell asleep in the street and he never woke up #
# And now one died in pieces in his bed with a mouth full of bones #
# And one threatened me long ago #
# I saw him melt in the bright light of day #
# And one laid to rest in a field under stories and clones #
DR: I'm not sure that the usual delayed entrance that Jason Keening
uses
is a good idea here. Even though Maverick and Extreme are ostensiably
friends, that doesn't change what The Outlaws will do in the ring.
Which
is anything they want. They are definitely not above taking a
two-on-one
advantage right here.
SS: How is that a BAD idea? Keening wants to get rid of Extreme, deep
down. That sounds like a good way to do it to me.
DH: ...HAILING FROM LOS ANGELES CALIFORNIA...
[As Chris Cornell's howling vocals transition into the chorus,
brilliant fireballs erupt on either side of the entrance curtains as
a squat powerful figure steps into view. Upon sighting the familiar
silhouette, the fans cheering grows louder.]
# I've been wanderin sideways #
# I've stared straight into the sun #
# Still I don't know why you're dying #
# Long before your time has come #
# Your time has come #
DH: ...WEIGHING IN AT TWO-HUNDRED AND SEVENTY-TWO POUNDS...
[The brawny figure is wearing buckskin pants with leather fringes
along the outside of the legs along with black-dyed tall moccasins.
A simple brown leather strap with Paiute beadwork sewn into it
circles his head as long, straight black hair cascades down around
his shoulders.]
DH: ...HERE IS...
...J A S O N K E E N I N G ! ! !
[Another duo of fireballs detonate on either side of the man revealing
him to be the former "Screaming Drillbit" and ex-member of The Ghost
Dancers, Jason Keening. Keening acknowledges the cheering crowd with
a
grin and a wave but the smile vanishes as he looks toward the ring and
begins marching down the aisle with a purposeful gait.]
# Now one took some bullets in the chest in a deal gone wrong #
# And one got a little too depressed and he went and jumped the gun #
# One got shot right in the face and he somehow survived #
# But he doesn't know my name or who I am and I'm not surprised #
[The music begins to fade out as Keening rolls underneath the bottom
rope into the ring and quickly rolls back out of the ring courtesy of
a Doc Holliday baseball-slide dropkick that sends Keening
unceremoniously
out of the ring and onto his butt. The fans protest vehemently.]
*DING*DING*DING*
DR: And we're underway in a hurry!
[Doc's sliding dropkick left him open, and Extreme pounces on the
opening
with a fury, jumping on the smaller Outlaw and pounding on his face
with
fists, until a stiff kick to the face from Brent Maverick's leather
boot
sends Extreme flying off of him. Maverick follows in with an elbow
drop,
then another, then a third. Holliday regains his feet, and ignores
referee George Driscoll's request to get out of the ring in favor for
running over and holding Extreme down so Maverick can stomp him. The
crowd boos the blatant double-team. This lasts until Keening gets up,
and in a fit of embarrassed anger, yanks Holliday out of the ring and
to
the floor! Since Doc was holding onto Extreme at the time, Alex
follows
suit, also landing on the concrete.]
DR: It's chaos early! Jason Keening ripped Holliday out of the ring,
and
he did it so hard that he took Extreme out there with him!
SS: HE JUST DUMPED YOU ON THE FLOOR, EXTREME! KICK HIS ASS!
AM: That's the last thing they need right now.
[But they have it, as Extreme storms to his feet and shoves Keening.
Keening angrily shoves Extreme back sending him to the floor... and out
of the way of a Maverick slingshot plancha! Brent hits the floor
instead
of Extreme, and upon seeing that Keening's shove made that move miss,
Extreme seems to pause to wonder whether or not that was Keening's
intent. For his part, Jason starts kicking Holliday in the head and
paying his partner no further attention.]
AM: Whoa. Did Keening save Extreme intentionally... or was that a
coincidence?
SS: Had to be a coincidence. No way Keening cares about Extreme at
this
point. See, he just went right after Holliday.
DR: It's hard to say, but Maverick flying down did seem to startle
Keening. But it doesn't matter, as Keening and Extreme have the
advantage now.
[Keening whips Holliday into the ring, and both he and Extreme slide
in.
Both men go after Holliday, and after a short period of gang-stomping,
Keening tries to motion Extreme out of the ring. Alex is rabid,
however,
punching and choking Doc Holliday with abandon. Driscoll finally makes
a
decision, and orders Keening out of the ring. Jason looks none too
happy, but complies.]
AM: There is approximately zero communication there.
DR: Extreme hates Holliday more than Keening does, and that's an
accomplishment. But considering his physical condition... I mean, how
long ago was that Annis match and he's STILL not healed? He really
should let Keening take the bulk of the work in the matchup.
AM: Alex listens to his heart, not his head.
SS: It's not like he has much to choose from, anyway.
[Extreme drags Holliday to his feet, and starts biting his forehead!
After a short time, he rears back and socks Holliday a good one in the
same spot, sending Doc back into the ropes. A rushing snap-kick
underneath the chin rattles Holliday all the way back into the
turnbuckles.]
DR: Extreme going on sheer hate right now! Those are brutal blows, and
one wonders whether or not surviving Serge Annis' assault may have
rubbed
off on Extreme somewhat.
[Alex charges, but Holliday still has his presence of mind, and the
attempted shoulderblock misses as Doc uses the top turnbuckles to lift
his body over Extreme's! Alex hits the buckles, thankfully not doing a
header into the post. Doc brings himself down on Extreme's back, wraps
his legs as if going for the sunset flip out of the corner... but
instead
of that, he pulls himself over using the top rope, and applies a
ropehang
Boston Crab. That move is usually known by another name, though...]
SS: TARANTULA!
DR: I don't think Holliday's got it hooked all the way!
AM: I don't think he's using the Tarantula as a submission hold
perse...
look at Maverick!
SS: No way they're gonna do what I think...
[As Doc hangs Extreme up on the ropes, Brent Maverick re-enters the
ring
on the opposite side, and charges at his partner and opponent. Doc
lets
go at just the right moment, and quickly flips to the side as his burly
partner spears Extreme right through the ropes and to the floor! The
crowd explodes for the nasty double-team move!]
SS: HOLY CRAP!
DR: SPEAR THROUGH THE ROPES TO THE OUTSIDE! THAT WAS VICIOUS!
AM: You can count the number of teams with timing THAT good on one
hand.
SS: Maybe one finger.
[Holliday, who is still on the apron, gets to his feet and looks down
at
his fallen partner and enemy. He then backs up, gets a running start
of
a few feet, and jumps down on Extreme with a senton bomb off the
apron!]
DR: And Doc Holliday follows in with a suicidal move! He'd have broken
his neck if he'd have missed that!
SS: If he doesn't stop showboating, the "Career Killer" is going to
break
his neck for him!
[Indeed, as Holliday prances about like a jackass, Jason Keening moves
in
behind him. As Holliday raises both arms in celebration, Keening takes
the opportunity to slap on a full nelson, and straightforwardly swing
Doc's head into the ringpost with a loud CLONK. As the fans react to
the
loud shot, Jason rolls him into the ring and follows him in.]
SS: Jason Keening just tried to end Doc Holliday's career right there!
AM: What?!
SS: Remember Ethan de Sade?
AM: Not very well.
[Keening scoops Holliday off of the mat, and cinches him up for the
piledriver. Jason hooks his arms in the position for his one-time
finishing move, the Drilldown (one-man spike piledriver), but before he
can execute this particular blast from the past (and inflict the
accompanying concussion), George Driscoll gets in his face and orders
him
out of the ring! The crowd seems less than enthused with this
decision.]
DR: Alex Extreme is the legal man! Keening is going to have to get out
of there.
SS: A real man would piledrive Holliday anyway. And you can see that
the
so-called Boy Scout really, really wants to. He's hesitating and
asking
the fans what he should do. Yeah, as if you don't know.
AM: He better decide fast, because Holliday won't stay stunned for...
[Not long enough to finish the thought, as Doc pulls Jason's legs out
from underneath him with a double-leg takedown. Holliday checks his
back, and sees Alex Extreme starting to climb up on the apron. Moving
quickly, the slender Outlaw positions Keening for a slingshot, and
drops
back, executing a slingshot right into the ropes. Keening collides
with
his tag team partner and Extreme sprawls back down to the floor.]
DR: Head-on collision between Keening and Extreme, and you just have to
know what Holliday was trying to do there.
SS: What are you talking about?! Keening forearmed Extreme in the
head!
AM: He was trying to keep from smashing his own head into Extreme's!
SS: Suuuuure. You just keep believing that.
[Maverick now slides in the ring, and the Outlaws utterly ignore George
Driscoll's complaints as they double bodyslam Keening. Holliday
proudly
skips on over to the nearest turnbuckle as Maverick applies a camel
clutch on Keening. Doc then proceeds to spring up to the top rope,
then
jump backwards back in towards the ring, twisting to dropkick Keening
in
the face with a loud SMACK. The beleaguered referee then finally
manages
to get Maverick out of the ring, as Holliday does a victory dance... on
Keening's back.]
DR: The Outlaws are completely ignoring the referee; they're just doing
whatever they want to in there!
AM: Yeah, that's par for the course. Even if you didn't know anything
else about them, they ARE Illuminati members.
SS: That, and if that bell rings for a DQ, it may as well go ahead and
ring nine more times in memory of the late George Driscoll.
DR: Alex Extreme is the legal man, and he's finally returning to the
ring.
[Extreme blindsides Holliday, hitting him in the back of the head with
a
hard forearm, which knocks him off of Keening. Doc stumbles into the
ropes, and Extreme rushes after him. Holliday throws a big left cross
to
catch him coming in, but it gets nothing but air as Alex ducks, jumps
through the ropes, hooks them on the way out, and swings his feet in a
wide arc all the way back around into a Sayama Feint Kick into the
small
of Doc Holliday's back! The crowd cheers the creative maneuvering as
Alex touches back down into the ring... immediately ducking a
clothesline
attempt by Maverick, who has charged down the apron. Extreme dropkicks
Maverick off the apron, and the larger Outlaw hits the ringside floor
with a THUD.]
DR: Not too many two-hundred thirty-five pounders can pull that off!
Extreme is injured, but far from beaten!
SS: If he were only smart enough to know when he is beaten, we wouldn't
be going through this whole process. He'd be groveling at Fatality's
feet like he should have done from the start!
[Holliday takes advantage of the momentarily distracted Extreme,
hooking
him in a waistlock. But before he can suplex his long-time rival,
Jason
Keening decides to fight fire with fire by coming up behind Holliday
and
German Suplexing him! Since Doc wouldn't let go of the waistlock,
Keening ends up suplexing both men, though Doc clearly gets the worst
of
it as Alex lands right on him! The fans scream excitedly at the
reversal
of momentum.]
SS: HEY! Keening cheated! I knew it; he's reverting to his "Career
Killer" persona! Look out, Doc and Brent!
AM: There's only so much of the Outlaws' crap you can take before you
fight back on their terms! I hope Jason realizes that's what they
want.
SS: What, to get suplexeds with another guy landing on you? Why would
anyone want that?!
DR: In any case, Keeing and Extreme are back in this... well, they
would
be if this didn't happen!
[At this point, Extreme has been on the recieving end of too many
accidental impacts from his tag team partner, and he shoves Keening
while
screaming angrily at him. The crowd cheers dissolve into that 'uh, oh'
gasp that usually occurs right before disaster strikes. And for a
moment, it seems that disaster will, in fact, strike. The two men who
will face at Luck Of The Draw seem more than eager to have at it, when
providence interrupts in the form of a groggy Doc Holliday, who
staggers
to his feet between them, not really sure where he is. Keening and
Extreme, who hate him more than most people hate taxes, both decide
that
it'd be more productive to slug him than each other, and so they do.
HARD. The double punch sends Holliday flying over the top rope and
onto
his partner, who is just getting up from the nasty spill to the floor
he'd just taken!]
DR: What a shot! Extreme and Keening used all of that pent-up anger at
each other, and they may have just knocked Doc Holliday out!
SS: What?! No, they can't do that! They're supposed to be hitting
each
other, dammit!
AM: Look out... I think Alex is going to try something crazy!
[As the crowd cheers wildly, Extreme climbs the turnbuckles on the
inside. He wastes no time in diving off the top rope with a flying
elbow
into both Outlaws on the floor, bouncing off of them and landing a few
feet away. The crowd cheers the death-defying move and starts chanting
something.]
DR: Well, considering we're on the East Coast and considering who is
wrestling, I guess a 'UEW' chant shouldn't be too shocking.
SS: It's been five years, people. Move on, please.
[Seeing that his partner has really hurt his already-really-hurt body
with that move, Jason Keening rolls outside, gathers up Extreme, slides
him in the ring, gets up in the corner, and tags himself in.]
DR: And a good decision by Keening, as Extreme is really in no shape to
be trying that sort of suicidal offense.
SS: Just like Jason Keening to make decisions for everyone else.
[Keening steps off the apron, yanks up Holliday by the hair, and
launches
him into the ring much less gingerly than he did for his tag team
partner. Doc rolls up to his feet with the momentum from this throw,
however, and is already running off the ropes when Keening gets to his
feet in the ring. Holliday knocks Keening onto his back with an
impressive flying forearm before quickly rolling to his feet and
clambering up onto the top turnbuckle in a neutral corner. As Extreme
looks on, scowling, Holliday waits for Keening to rise before launching
himself into the air. But when Holliday lands with his legs around
Keening's neck in an attempted top rope flying headscissors, Keening
reacts with surprising speed as he grabs the smaller man's legs and
pulls
him up high into the air before planting him onto his back with a
devastating spinning powerbomb! The fans go wild! Holliday is briefly
stunned and unable to resist as Keening rolls on top of him for the
pin.
But when the referee reaches a two-count, Maverick intervenes by
charging
in and pulling Keening off of Holliday which also draws Extreme into
the
ring.]
DR: ALMOST GOT HIM!
SS: Yeah, just wait until Maverick gets in. Doc's been technically
legal
all match!
AM: If they'd bother tagging, they might not have that problem!
[Extreme knees Brent in the head, then goes after a downed Holliday
with
an elbow drop, which misses because Keening was picking Doc up to hit
him
with a move. This distracts Keening long enough for Doc to poke him in
the eye, setting him up for a spear by Maverick. Both Outlaws roll
towards the corner, where Brent tags in while Extreme shouts at
Keening.]
AM: Bad judgement by Extreme there, but it's hard to blame him. He
doesn't want to fight Maverick. He wants to fight Holliday.
SS: It's not hard to blame him at all. But it's more fun to blame
Keening for deliberately pulling Doc out of the way. GET HIM, ALEX!
[Taking advantage of the heated communication between the
Extreme-Keening
duo, Maverick rushes up behind Keening, hooks him in a head-and-arm,
and
despite Keening's attempts to break free, dumps his heavier opponent
onto
his head with a head-and-arm suplex! The crowd gives one of those
head-ropping "OUCH" pops.]
DR: HANGMAN'S SUPLEX! One of Maverick's trademark moves, and that one
dropped Keening right on his head!
SS: Not gonna do much damage that way.
[A frustrated Extreme lashes out, nailing Maverick with a standing
dropkick before leaving the ring. That, however, distracts Driscoll
long
enough for a still-smarting Holliday to slink back in the ring. Doc
plants his elbow into Keening's head with a powerdrive elbowdrop. In a
double-team maneuver, Holliday and Maverick send Keening into the ropes
with a double Irish whip. As Keening hits the ropes, Extreme slaps one
of
his shoulders to tag himself in but the Paiute wrestler doesn't
register
this as he ducks underneath an attempted clothesline by The Outlaws.
While Keening bounces off the ropes on the opposite side of the ring,
Extreme climbs up onto the top turnbuckle in his corner. But when
Keening
charges the Outlaws with an attempted double clothesline of his own,
they
dodge the maneuver and re-direct him, sending him into his own corner
with a curving Irish whip. When Keening slams into his own corner, he
inadvertently knocks Extreme off his perch and "Mr. Excitement" slips
downward to straddle the top turnbuckle in a very painful fashion!]
DR: Oh, no!
SS: Didn't Annis already more or less spay and neuter him?
AM: That was the last thing this team needed!
[The crowd is on edge as Maverick climbs to the second turnbuckle to
superplex Extreme as Holliday snapmares Keening down into the path of
the
move. But the referee has finally had enough of this, and he
physically
shoves Doc away from Keening, yelling at him to get out of the ring and
stay there. Irate, the slender Outlaw threatens to deck Driscoll, but
as
he does, a familiar camoflauge-clad figure reaches up into the ring and
yanks Maverick's leg, causing the burly Outlaw to fall to the canvas!]
DR: HEY! THAT'S THE MERCENARY!
SS: Oh, no! Fatality forgot to ban him from ringside this week!
DR: That oversight might prove costly! EXTREME JUMPS... AND HITS __THE
EXTREME__! HE PLANTED THE MOONSAULT LEGDROP ONTO BRENT MAVERICK!
[The fans are going crazy, as Merc scampers out of sight. Holliday
points and screams various death threats at him, and Extreme gingerly
rolls out of the ring as landing that move knocked a lot out of him.
Keening gets up, glares at Merc, and puts his hands on his hips as if
refusing to go for a pin after that.]
AM: Not now, Jason! All Merc did was even it up... the Outlaws have
been
blatantly cheating all match!
SS: This is the only chance you're gonna get, Captain Wheatbread!
AM: I thought he was Captain Whitebread?
SS: Wheatbread is even more healthy and wholesome. Come on, where's
the
guy that snapped de Sade in two like a twig?!
[Seated on the apron, and wincing in pain, Extreme furiously points at
the downed Maverick, imploring Keening to pin him. Jason shakes his
head
'no'. He reaches down, picks up Maverick, and shoots underneath
him...]
DR: He's going for the __DRILLBIT DRIVER__!
SS: Oh, yeah, THAT'LL make it a clean pin.
[However, one move really isn't enough to stop Brent Maverick, who
counters the Drillbit Driver by kicking his legs out and landing behind
Keening. Maverick takes two hands full of hair, rares back, and
smashes
Keening's face into the canvas!]
DR: That's about as unrefined of a maneuver as you'll ever see, but
Brent
Maverick just got himself out of a jam with raw power.
AM: Noone in that ring can out-wrestle Jason Keening. The roughneck
stuff is going to have to do.
[Maverick picks up Keening, goes for a vertical suplex, but is blocked.
Keening wastes no time in reversing the suplex, holding Maverick up in
the air for several moments before letting the Outlaw collapse into a
horizontal position on his shoulders... at which point Keening goes
stright down with him, careening forward and dumping all of his weight
onto Maverick, rolling right over him in the process! The Roller
Coaster
Suplex draws a roar from the crowd, as once more the Keening-Extreme
team
is in control.]
DR: ROLLER COASTER SUPLEX! Jason Keening smashed his man stright into
the mat! Maverick went for a wrestling move, and paid the price!
SS: There are plenty of steel chairs and tables sitting around, guys!
DR: I didn't mean that like it was a bad thing, Sam.
[Now Keening runs over, and shoves Holliday off the apron to the floor.
He then returns to a now-standing Maverick, applies an armwringer, and
bends him backwards. The crowd stands, knowing where this one is
going.
But apparently, Maverick knows it too, because he twists himself out of
Black-And-Decker Drop position, reversing the armwringer and turning
his
body into Keening's. Maverick nails Keening with a quick inverted
atomic
drop, without letting go of the arm. And then, in a mirror of what
Keening had planned, Maverick bends Keening over backwards, swings his
leg up over Keening's neck, and with a loud THUD plants him with his
own
move! The crowd reacts with a "wait, HE just did WHAT?!" sort of pop.]
SS: HOLY CRAP!
DR: That's the last thing I'd have expected out of Brent Maverick! He
countered the Black-And-Decker Drop WITH the Black-And-Decker Drop!
AM: And guess who's probably kicking himself mentally for teaching
Maverick that move when Brent was running the KSGA branch in Tucson.
SS: I love karma.
[Maverick gathers himself up, picks up Keening, and tags his partner
in.
Brent then scoops up Keening in a bear hug, then lays him out
horizontally as Holliday climbs the turnbuckles...]
AM: Uh, oh!
SS: Anyone up for some blackjack?
DR: Twenty-One Of Spades coming online, and noone has ever kicked out
of
this!
[Knowing quite well just how dangerous that move is, Alex Extreme runs
in
the ring, but Holliday sees him coming and jumps over Maverick to catch
him offguard with a missile dropkick! Maverick thusly tries to turn
this
hold into a Hotshot, but Keening boxes his ears, and escapes the hold.
Keening then quickly twists Maverick's arm, and plants him with the
original...]
**THUD!**
DR: BLACK-AND-DECKER DROP!
SS: Maverick's was better.
AM: Like hell.
[Caught up in his own cleverness, Holliday fails to notice that his
partner's been felled, despite the fans' loud cheers. He yanks Extreme
off the mat and into a pumphandle position, but long before he can go
for
his own finisher, Jason Keening hammers Holliday between the
shoulderblades with a double axehandle! Extreme quickly rolls out to
the
apron, as Keening presses his advantage. The Native American grappler
hooks both arms between Holliday's legs and teardrop suplexes Holliday
up
and over, and Doc lands in a heap near the opposing corner!]
DR: The pendulum has shifted again, and the Outlaws are in trouble!
Can
Keening and Extreme keep it together long enough to finish this?!
SS: You jinxed them. You KNOW you just jinxed them.
[Maybe, maybe not. Keening backs up, and goes for a Polish Hammer, but
Holliday uses the drop-toehold to plant him face first into the second
turnbuckle. Extreme immediately slaps Keening in the back to tag
himself
in, and propels himself over the top rope at Holliday, who is is quite
ready for this.]
[**WHACK!**]
SS: HE JUST PUNCHED HIS FACE OFF!
DR: Left jab by Doc Holliday, and that's probably the loudest punch in
wrestling! When he uncorks that one, you know about it!
SS: I don't think Extreme knows his own name after that! He was in
mid-air! Darn near went right back out the same way he came in, too!
[Too proud of himself to let the moment pass, Doc struts around the
ring
like a jerk before randomly rushing over and kicking the Mercenary in
the
face. Merc, who was pounding on the apron to try and rally Extreme,
bolts up angrily onto the apron... and is then blindsided by an
onrushing
Maverick, who bulldogs the grizzled veteran off of the ring apron onto
the floor! This gets a pop from the crowd.]
DR: WHAT A MOVE TO TAKE MERC OUT OF THE EQUATION!
AM: But Maverick took himself out of the equation doing it! And
Extreme
is getting up!
[Extreme and Holliday start going toe-to-toe, but as Extreme is still
groggy from the big left jab by Holliday, he's losing ground. That
puts
him with an arm's length of Keening, who reaches over the top rope and
slaps Extreme on the shoulder, tagging himself in. Extreme angrily
yells
at Keening who responds with irate shouting of his own as Holliday
looks
on in amusement. Thoroughly infuriated, Extreme turns and charges
Holliday with an attempted lariat but this is ducked. Keening steps
forward and grabs Holliday by the shoulder, spinning him around. But
the
crafty Outlaw seemingly has eyes in the back of his head as he drops
down
to the canvas just as Extreme rebounds off the ropes behind him.
Extreme's running dropkick misses its intended target and Keening
eats it
instead, the force of the blow knocking him between the ropes and out
of
the ring to the arena floor! That "uh, oh!" pop hits the crowd again.]
SS: YEAH! That'll show Keening a thing or two.
AM: Keening has accidentally hit Extreme several times now, but now
Extreme has accidentally hit Keening as well!
DR: And Holliday's taking advantage!
[Doc grabs Extreme from behind as he gets up to survey the damage he's
caused, and hooks him backwards! But before he can use his inverted
swinging neckbreaker, with which he's beaten Extreme in the past, he
finds that Alex won't be taken the same way twice. Extreme counters
with
an Ace Crusher, impacting Holliday's jaw and planting him on the
canvas!
The fans roar, kicking off an adrenaline surge in Extreme!]
DR: EXTREME COUNTERS THE BLACKJACK, AND HOLLIDAY'S IN TROUBLE!
SS: Not as much trouble as Extreme is in! Keening's PISSED!
AM: Oh, no! Not now!
[Extreme yells "E! D! D!" to the crowd as he pulls back Holliday for a
dragon sleeper, but is himself spun around by Jason Keening. Probably
believing that Brent Maverick is the one interrupting the move, Extreme
spins with an overhand right that connects with Keening's nose. You
can
see Extreme mouth out "Oops" a moment before Keening headbutts him
down,
and starts pummelling him with forearms! The fans roar as the fight is
on!]
DR: IT FINALLY BROKE DOWN! EXTREME PUNCHED KEENING, AND NOW KEENING IS
ALL OVER EXTREME!
AM: No...
SS: YES, YES, AND YES!
[Blood is drawn as elbow after elbow slams into Extreme's face, the
same
forearm shivers Keening took out Titanicus with at Gold Rush. But this
opponent has far more drive and is far less easily beaten, and Extreme
rolls Keening right back over and unloads on Keening with both hands,
savagely punching away at his bitter rival. It isn't long before
Keening
is also bloodied, a broken nose the source of his laceration. The fans
are up and explosively loud, every one cheering on his favorite. A
"KICK-HIS-ASS-AL-EX, KICK-HIS-ASS!" chant starts, but is met head on
with
a "LET'S GO JA-SON!" chant!]
DR: THIS PLACE HAS EXPLODED, AS JASON KEENING AND ALEX EXTREME WILL NOT
WAIT UNTIL LUCK OF THE DRAW!
SS: How much you want to bet the Outlaws kill whoever wins this fight?
AM: Considering who just jumped the barricade, I'll take that bet. Ten
grand.
SS: You're on... hey! Never mind!
AM: Too late!
[The crowd gets even louder, as The Outlaws, who are just watching the
fight (Holliday seems amused, Maverick just seems interested)
completely
miss the fact that Team Canada has just hit the ring behind them. They
do not remain oblivious for long, as both Trevor Hextall and Bobby
Jablonski have both brought Canadian flags with them to the US nation's
capital to express their national pride in a violent manner... and
deliver a loud double-flagpoleshot that you could probably hear across
the street.]
**CRAASH!**
DR: TEAM CANADA HAS AMBUSHED THE OUTLAWS!
SS: WHAT?! I THOUGHT WE'D NEVER SEE THEM AGAIN!
AM: What, because the Outlaws SAID so? How DID someone so gullible get
all that money?!
**DING*DING*DING*DING*DING*DING*DING***
DR: AND NOW EVERYONE IS BRAWLING! TEAM CANADA SAVAGELY BEATING THE
OUTLAWS! EXTREME AND KEENING GOING BACK AND FORTH!
SS: THOSE DUMB GOONS! THEY RUINED MY MOMENT!
[Keening gets to his feet and kicks Extreme in the gut. He tries to
use
a Drillbit Driver on Extreme, who stops this by punching him in the
head
a dozen times. Extreme then grabs Keening's hair and starts rubbing
his
face in the canvas. Meanwhile, Jablonski and Hextall, who have had the
upper hand since the ambush, Irish-whip both Outlaws into the ropes,
trying to clothesline them both with the largest intact flagpole
fragment. However, the Arizona natives grab the ropes and slide out of
the ring to the temporary disappointment of the fans. The double tope
that Team Canada performs erases that, for what it lacks in grace it
makes up for in enthusiasm and impact.]
DR: IT'S SPILLING OUTSIDE! I CAN BARELY HEAR MYSELF!
[Left in the ring is Extreme and Keening, and not for long, because
Keening gets underneath Extreme, and stands up. He thus has Extreme up
in the air on his shoulders, and he runs to the ropes and throws him
out
over the top rope!]
DH: THE WINNERS OF THIS MATCH, BY DISQUALIFICATION... __THE
OUTLAAAAAHHH!
[**SMASH**!]
[The fans go even more ballistic as Alex Extreme ends up sailing right
through the timekeeper's table! Debbie Henshall bails as table scraps
and limbs spill in all directions!]
SS: KEENING'S DONE IT AGAIN! THE "CAREER KILLER" LIVES!
AM: I think that's what he's afraid of! He wasn't trying to throw
Extreme that far, not through a table!
[Immediately horrified by what he's done, Keening rolls out to check on
Extreme, to see if he's once again crossed the line of no return.
He should have known better.]
[**DING**!]
DR: EXTREME HITS KEENING WITH THE RING BELL! FROM HIS BACK, AND IN
OBVIOUSLY NO CONDITION TO GO ON, ALEX EXTREME IS STILL LASHING OUT!
[Over on the other side of the ring, Team Canada sets up a double
cross-check on Doc Holliday, but this is interrupted as Brent Maverick
rips part of the steel barricade from it's mooring, and flings it in
the
path of Team Canada, who end up running into it and falling over it.
This gives the Outlaws a chance to catch their breath, and when the two
teams collide a moment later, it's to go toe-to-toe. Even now, though,
Team Canada is much fresher and are able to get the upper hand.]
AM: THIS IS CRAZY! WE NEED SECURITY!
SS: They don't pay rent-a-cops enough for this!
[Hextall and Jablonski grab Maverick and double biel-throw him into the
crowd! They follow in after him, and procure a tray of soda from a
vendor. Hextall grabs Maverick by the hair, yanks back, and hurls his
head forward into a soda-tray shot by Jablonski! Soda splashes all
over
the place as Maverick drops like a rock! The Canadians then stomp
away,
until they're smashed into by Doc Holliday, who has used the barricade
as
a springboard for a tumbling body attack on both men! Everyone lands
in
a pile!]
DR: Someone in the crowd is going to get hurt!
SS: Relax, this is Washington DC. Nobody lives in DC that couldn't use
a
good beating!
AM: The police are here! The police are actually having to break up
the
fight between the Outlaws and Team Canada!
SS: All four of them are probably wanted anyway!
[Back at ringside, nothing has cooled down, as Extreme tries to hit
Keening with the bell again. But he's pushing himself too hard after
his
table collision, and his body falters, making it easy for Keening to
rip
the bell out of his hands and headbutt him down. Keening then winds up
the ringbell... and pauses! He's clearly tempted to smash Extreme in
the
head, and is actually talking to himself, trying to talk himself out of
it... or perhaps into it?]
DR: KEENING'S GOING TO USE THE RING BELL!
SS: GET HIM, "CAREER KILLER"!
[The fans are split, with half chanting "GO! GO! GO! GO!" and half
chanting "NO! NO! NO! NO!". It's an almost surreal atmosphere, and
Keening makes his decision. He takes a step towards Extreme... and a
weapon is indeed swung!]
[**CLANG!**]
[Unfortunately, we'll never know if Keening was going to go ahead and
swing, because the swung weapon was a Haliburton briefcase! The
Mercenary clobbers Keening from behind with the infamous weapon, picks
up
Extreme, and starts carrying him out of the arena! Half the crowd pops
for this, the other half boos.]
DR: THE DECISION JUST GOT TAKEN OUT OF KEENING'S HANDS! THE MERCENARY
STEPPED IN TO PROTECT EXTREME!
SS: DAMN IT! Couldn't you wait until AFTER Keening caused himself
weeks
of torment and self-loathing! He was definitely swinging!
AM: The scary thing is... I'm not sure! He actually MIGHT have been
going after Extreme! Merc stopped him before he could do anything!
DR: Goodnight fans, we'll see you next week!
[Extreme fights to get out of Merc's arms, to get back at the man he so
bitterly hates. Hate and rage is clearly evident in Extreme's
blood-splattered visage, but the Mercenary does not relent. He drags
Extreme to the back, as Keening gets up, an equally hateful glare in
his
eyes. Clutching his head with one arm, he points at Extreme with the
other, audibly yelling "Your career ends in Vegas!". The police are
carting Hextall, Jablonski, Maverick, and Holliday out, but the four
men
are still hot to get at each other. The fans are chanting "LET THEM
FIGHT! LET THEM FIGHT!"... directed at everyone... but that is the
scene
as the copyright notice pops up, and we fade to credits. The audio
from
the event, and therefore the "LET THEM FIGHT!" chant, goes on in the
background as one more screen shows advertising Luck Of The Draw. Then
we fade to black.]