********************************************************** ********************************************************** ********************************************************** American Wrestling Alliance Proudly Presents SUPERCLASH Live from the Dallas Memorial Auditorium Dallas, Texas November 26th, 2009 ********************************************************** ********************************************************** ********************************************************** [As the end credits to "Good Times" slowly fade out, they are replaced by a blackened screen and the soft piano opening to Guns N' Roses' "November Rain." The voice of Gordon Myers is heard over the start.] "For decades, the biggest day of the calendar year for the professional wrestling business was Thanksgiving night. It was the night when all the biggest stars came out. The night when all the biggest matches were held. The night where careers were built and legends were made. And the night where the memories that last a lifetime were formed. On this night, the AWA returns to those days for the biggest event of 2009. It is SuperClash." [Slowly, a black and white shot of Rough N Ready doing battle with the Bishop Boys fades in.] "It is SuperClash where a bitter blood feud sees it's final showdown." [The shot is replaced by a slowly fading still montage of the ten men in the Steal The Spotlight Showdown.] "It is SuperClash where ten men will attempt to seize the day to become the next big thing in our industry..." [An old still photo of a bloodied Mark Langseth clinging to a golden title belt appears.] "...and one man takes the first step on a long road back to the top of the mountain." [Langseth is replaced by Raphael Rhodes with a photo of a smirking Ben Waterson nearby.] "It is SuperClash where one man must make a career-defining decision..." [The powerhouse, Gary Bright, on one side of the screen while the mighty Tumaffi stands on the other.] "...and two others battle in a career-defining clash of titans." [Kevin Slater. Shane Destiny. Pure X.] "It is SuperClash that can reveal the destiny for the past, the present, and the future of our sport." [Fade to a sneering Calisto Dufresne and Adrian Freeman - and then add in City Jack with his eye heavily bandaged.] "It is SuperClash where one man defies the doctors, the promoters, and the fans to step into the ring with two men who would like nothing more than to end his career on this Thanksgiving night." [And finally, to a shot of the AWA National Champion Stevie Scott and his top challenger, Juan Vasquez.] "It is SuperClash where a champion battles all the odds and a challenger strives to prove that HE is the best in the world. It is SuperClash where careers are made. It is SuperClash where legends are built. It is SuperClash where memories are forged in the fires of competition." [The SuperClash logo slowly fades in.] "It is SuperClash... ...and it has arrived." [The logo fades away to a shot of the screaming crowd jammed inside the Dallas Memorial Auditorium. "Run This Town" by Jay-Z feat. Rihanna is kickin' the PA as the camera pans over the fans. We can see the ring smackdab in the middle of it all - red, white, and blue ropes around a white canvas. Red aprons hang off the ring as well, dancing down to the thin padding on the floor at ringside. Steel barricades are surrounding the ring, keeping the rabid AWA faithful at bay for the moment as the patrons lean over the metal railings, screaming and shouting at the cameras as they pan across them. A small entranceway leads from the locker room area - ropes on both sides to keep the fans back along with a row of security guards. Giant sets of elevated bleachers on all sides of the ring, holding over eight thousand wild AWA fans. We cut to ringside where we see two wooden tables - one for the timekeeper and ring announcer and one for our announce team. Speaking of which...] GM: Happy Thanksgiving everyone and welcome to the Dallas Memorial Auditorium! We've been talking about it for weeks and the night has finally arrived - it is SuperClash and it is the biggest night of the year here in the AWA, fans! [The camera shot at ringside shows Gordon Myers, classy as always in a black tuxedo, white dress shirt, and red bowtie. He looks a little stuffy actually and not quite pleased to be dressed up so much. On the other hand, Mr. Buckthorn Wilde seems to have invested his money wisely in 2009 as he is sporting a shimmering and sparkling gold tuxedo along with an eye-burning pink dress shirt. His black bowtie is the only thing understated about him as he nods along with Gordon's opening words.] GM: Bucky, a Happy Thanksgiving to you as well. BW: Thanks, Gordo... it's been a great day for me so far. I went to Mama's for Thanksgiving lunch... we had turkey and ham and roast and potatoes and stuffin' and cranberries and pies and cakes and- GM: I'm not sure we have time to go down your mother's entire menu, Bucky, cause we've got an incredible night of action lined up for you whether we see that match or not! Two HUGE title matches. That big tag team grudge match. The first-ever Triangle Elimination Match. The Steal The Spotlight Showdown. The return to wrestling of Mark Langseth plus so much more. It's going to be a wild night of action here in the Dallas Memorial Auditorium and we're going to kick things off with what could be the wildest match of them all, Bucky. BW: It's Thanksgiving night and someone's gonna have a lot to be thanksful for after our opening match. We've got ten men going at it in a five on five elimination match involving competitors who have recently debuted or returned to AWA action. And to the winners? Any non-title match that they want. That's big, Gordo. GM: It certainly is because it gives the winner an immediate chance to make a big impact on the AWA. One of the ten men who will be in action tonight is standing by so for the first time tonight, let's go back to Jason Dane! [Standing by backstage is Jason Dane, with MAMMOTH Mizusawa and his manager, Louis Matsui. Matsui is holding a black briefcase in his hand.] JD: Thanks, guys, and Happy Thanksgiving to all of our fans out there. I am standing back here with MAMMOTH Mizusawa and his manager, Louis Matsui. Louis Matsui, at the last Saturday Night Wrestling, you made something of an offer to the nine other men involved in the Steal the Spotlight match. Will you now clarify what you meant for the benefit of those men and all the AWA fans? LM: What you call an offer, I simply call laying out the cards. See, like I said, some of those men coming into the match, might very well walk away from the match with nothing. Some of those men might not walk away very easily, especially considering how, in addition to my seven-foot monster, they could find themselves across the ring from the brutal Russian, Vladimir Velikov, the equally dangerous, Baron Von Klauss, and the highly-effective fighting machine that is Werewolf Gregorson. So, one way the match could go for Anderson, Fitzgerald, again, Clayton Shaw, Vernon Riley and Corey Lawson, is for them to end up beaten AND broken! [Matsui hands the briefcase over to Mizusawa, who holds it up for his manager to open and show the contents to the camera. Inside the briefcase, there appears to be bundles of ten-dollar bills.] JD: Holy cow! How much money is in there, Louis? LM: That's twenty-five thousand dollars in total, Jason, in two and three grand bundles. See, the other way the match could go for the members of the opposing team is this: walk away and I will personally hand over a two-grand stack. Now, two thousand dollars might not seem like much, but, like I said, you walk away healthy, and you walk away with the gratitude of the Matsui Corporation. Still, with nicknames like the "All-American" or "Stars and Stripes", I suspect these men will be too prideful to take up what is otherwise a very reasonable offer. We've already seen the folly of Bailey Fitzgerald, and we saw how all five men came out at the end of SNW to help out their friends. See, MAMMOTH Mizusawa understands honor, and we understand friendship, but I also want to remind you gentlemen that you don't want to make the wrong enemies. My client and I certainly do not want to be your enemies and neither does the Matsui Corporation. Nonetheless, if you gentlemen are foolhardy enough to reject this offer, allow me to up the ante. At two grand each, I still have fifteen thousand dollars to spare. This amount, I offer as a reward to Mizusawa's comrades in the Steal the Spotlight ten-men elimination match. Velikov, Von Klauss, Taylor, Gregorson, it's very simple. If you survive the match and so does Mizusawa, you get two grand each, easy. You go above and beyond your own interests to keep Mizusawa in the match, or you eliminate members of the opposing team while Mizusawa is still in the match? I throw in a thousand-dollar bonus. You do something stupid like get yourselves counted out or disqualified, you might still get something if you take someone from the opposing team out with you. You do something even stupider like cause Mizusawa to be disqualified? Then, you get nothing. And you will definitely make us enemies. Basically, gentlemen, this is some very easy money to make, and you have everything to gain with MAMMOTH Mizusawa, Louis Matsui and the Matsui Corporation on your side. With Steal the Spotlight, gentlemen on both sides of the ring, it is yours, and only yours to lose, so why wouldn't you do the right thing? Think about it. [He turns and gives a nod to Mizusawa, who snaps the briefcase shut and hands it over to Matsui as he begins to lead his charge away.] JD: Louis Matsui with an offer that just may be very difficult to refuse for some of the men in this match, guys. Let's go over to- [A voice shouts out from off-camera.] "Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoooooa." [Dane turns to the side, looking surprises as a ready-for-action "Scorchin" Shane Taylor and the lovely Kandi Kane walks in from off-camera. Taylor has a pair of cut off denim shorts and a wifebeater on - a cigarette tucked behind his ear. Kandi Kane is in a skin-tight and low-cut tanktop along with a pair of tights that are tight enough to tell if the coin in her pocket is heads or tails. She is busy stroking her man's hair and shoulders as they approach.] SST: Somethin' just ain't right 'round here, Jason Dane. JD: What do you mean? SST: I was standin' over there by the tunnel, ready to trot on out there for this big match with my main squeeze here - who, by the way, is lookin' oh...so...damn...good. [He leans in for a kiss to Miss Kane before turning back to Jason Dane who seems to be gawking a bit.] SST: Eyes up, Dane, or I'll knock yer lights out. [Dane pops his head up, holding the mic closer now.] JD: Shane Taylor, what's not right? SST: What's not right is that I'm used to not gettin' any respect in this business, Jason. Not by the announcers like yer scrawny rear end. Not by the fans. Not by the suits. Not by my own brother. Not by anyone at all. But tonight, I thought at least my own PARTNER would respect me. [Dane looks puzzled.] SST: I get it, Dane-o. You're a little confused. You're not exactly the sharpest knife in the drawer, are ya? Well, at least you know you and your sister are actually related now cause she's about as dim as you, baby. JD: Now, let's not- [Taylor interrupts.] SST: Do these words you just heard sound familiar, Dane? "They could find themselves across the ring from the brutal Russian, Vladimir Velikov, the equally dangerous, Baron Von Klauss, and the highly-effective fighting machine that is Werewolf Gregorson." [Taylor holds up five fingers.] SST: Mizusawa. [One finger comes down.] SST: Velikov. [Another finger comes down.] SST: Von Klauss. [Another finger comes down.] SST: And Gregorson. [Taylor looks at the index and middle fingers still up for a moment before smirking and slowly lowering the middle finger much to Jason Dane's relief.] SST: That leaves one man standin' the way I see it, Dane. And that man is me. So, Matsui... you offer up all the funds you want and as long as your big rice-eatin' Godzilla don't get in my way, we're kosher, ya dig? But if he steps on my path, ain't anything you got in that briefcase that'll stop me from layin' him out and stealin' that spotlight all for myself... [Kandi Kane clears her throat, glaring at Shane.] SST: Correction. For myself and my main squeeze, Kandi. [Another sickening public display of affection as they stumble off-screen together leaving Jason Dane behind.] JD: Let's go cross the arena to my colleague Mark Stegglet who I believe is standing by with another man in tonight's Steal The Spotlight Showdown. Mark? [We cut to "cross the arena" where Mark Stegglet - looking slightly less geeky than usual in his finest dress suit - is standing with "Stars And Stripes" Clayton Shaw who is dressed in a pair of black trunks and a t-shirt that strongly resembles an American flag.] MS: Thanks, Jason. The crowd is fired up. We're fired up. And Clayton Shaw, I know you're fired up! CS: Well, you've got that for a fact, Mark. There's not a doubt about it. You know, when you look around this great, great country of ours, there's a lot of people who like to push others around, tell 'em what's what and how it's gonna be. Back around my hometown, we call 'em bullies, Steggy. [Mark Stegglet actually seems to enjoy that nickname, grinning like an idiot.] CS: Well, look around the locker room here and you see the exact same thing. Guys like Stevie Scott and Gary Bright who're gonna get theirs later tonight with Juan gets his hands on 'em. [Shaw nods his head, confident in his words.] CS: Guys like Shane Destiny who like to flash a resume, talk 'bout what used to be, and act like that still means something to an old roughneck like me. [Another nod.] CS: And then you get down to the scum... the dirt of the Earth... guys like that ol' Russian bully Velikov. Me and Velikov, we ain't never seen eye to eye, Steggy, and I doubt we ever will. We come from different sides of the tracks... WAY different sides. And there ain't a doubt in my mind that he'd as soon slip a blade between my shoulders than pat me on the back. But you can rest assured the feelin' is mutual, Velikov. And I don't give two shakes of my fist who you bring with you. You go track down your nephew, you bring him. You bring this ugly German pig that you found... you bring him to me. Heck, you go right back home and bring the whole darn KGB if you wanna... [Shaw's fired up now, his voice getting louder and louder.] CS: You bring 'em all! You bring Von Klauss! You bring Taylor! You bright Mizusawa! ["Stars And Stripes" lowers his voice, shaking his head.] CS: You even bring my ol' friend the Werewolf. I don't know what he's thinkin' these days but if he's thrown in with the dogs, then he's gonna have to face me sooner or later too. You bring 'em all, Velikov. And when it's all said and done, let's just see what's left of all of ya. [Shaw steps out of the frame as Mark Stegglet grins. A moment later, Corey Lawson steps into the picture. He's wearing a black satin jacket and a pair of red leg-length tights with black tassels and fringe, along with silver boots.] MS: One man exits and another man enters. Corey, you made a big impression by taking the fight to Raphael Rhodes on Saturday Night Wrestling. How do you feel about this elimination battle you're in tonight? CL: Well, let me tell you somethin', Mark, I ain't scared of no man. I ain't scared of nobody on that other team. Sure, they may be bigger, and yeah, they may be mean and tough, but there ain't nothin' that's goin' to stop this Tennessee boy from takin' the fight to everyone. Now I know I'm an underdog... but Jason, I love bein' the underdog. And let me tell you this... all I need is these fans' cheers and I'll be just fine. [Lawson gives the sign language symbol for "I love you" to the camera.] CL: And if these people will be so kind as to root me on, I guarantee you this... if Corey Lawson goes down tonight, he's goin' to go down swingin'. Thanks! [Lawson rushes off-camera as Mark points to the camera.] MS: Back to Jason! [Cut back to the other side of the building where Jason Dane is standing alongside the 6'8" Werewolf Gregorson who is in a pair of black jeans and a sleeveless black t-shirt, his shoulder-length silver-white hair tied back with a black leather cord.] JD: Werewolf Gregorson, the question on the mind of everyone is- [Gregorson interrupts with a nod.] WG: I know the question, Jason. There seems to be some question of late as to where I stand in the AWA these days, especially in light of the fact that I've been chosen as the fifth man on Team Mizusawa in tonight's Steal The Spotlight Showdown. But the fact of the matter is this. Mammoth Mizusawa, Shane Taylor, Vladimir Velikov, and Baron Von Klauss, they mean nothing to me. Less than nothing. In fact, other than Comrade Velikov... [Gregorson spits out the Russian's name like a curse.] WG: I've never met a single one of my teammates before tonight and the only reason they *are* my teammates is because I *demanded* to be allowed into the match. [Pause.] WG: That being said, however, I also need to clarify one other thing. You see, despite my longstanding friendship with "Stars and Stripes" Clayton Shaw, tonight I can show no loyalty to my friend or his teammates because our friendship is secondary to one thing and one thing only. And, that, my faithful Werewolf Warriors, is victory. [Pause.] WG: You see, I've had a lot of time to think in the thirteen months that I've been home recovering from ACL surgery, and I realized that there's been something holding me back since I first arrived here in the AWA. And that something was *me.* Because, from the minute I first set foot in the WKIK studios and wrestled in my first match on Saturday Night Wrestling, I wasn't the Werewolf Gregorson who earned his scars the hard way by standing toe-to-toe with some of the most violent men in the history of this sport, I was Werewolf Gregorson, the crowd-pleasing tag team wrestler, or Werewolf Gregorson, the flag-waving Marine, both of whom are just a mere shadow of the man I used to be. And that, my friends, was a lie I was no longer willing to live. So, tonight, when I step through those ropes afer an absence of more than a year, it won't be as the Werewolf Gregorson whose fans are ashamed to look him in the eye anymore, but rather as Werewolf Gregorson, the man who steals the spotlight from nine other wrestlers and reestablishes himself as a force to be reckoned with in the American Wrestling Alliance. And, if that means I have to show my claws a little, then so be it. Because Werewolf Gregorson is *back* in the AWA, and Stevie Scott, Juan Vasquez, regardless of who holds the National Title at the end of tonight's show, I'll be coming... for you!! [Gregorson strides out of view, leaving Jason Dane alone.] JD: And one more time, let's go back to Mark! [We cut back to the other side of the building where we find Mark Stegglet alongside Bailey Fitzgerald. Fitzgerald is shirtless and seemingly ready for action, sporting a pair of black wrestling pants with a fluorescent green and blue pattern cascading down each leg and on the behind. His wrestling attire differs significantly from what the AWA fans have seen previously; Bailey perhaps banking on a change in attire may equate into a change in luck.] MS: I'm here with Bailey Fitzgerald just before he steps through that curtain. Bailey, some might say you've had a tough go of things thus far. The first time we saw you in live action, you fell in defeat to the towering MAMMOTH Mizusawa. And remarkably enough, you asked for an immediate rematch and while your tactics clearly worked far better in the second encounter, you once again came up short. What do you attribute to being the key to your misfortune here at the onset of your AWA career? [The grappler timidly pauses as if attempting to muster a satisfactory explanation for his shortcomings thus far, but after a few seconds, he can only offer a simple shrug of his shoulders.] BF: Not a whole lot of good fortune to speak of, Mark. You've got me there. [Fitzgerald offers a half-smile, playfully nudging the correspondent.] BF: As I've sat back licking my proverbial wounds the past few days, I've found myself reflecting often as to where things have gone awry. And it's embarrassing to say, but I haven't found a whole lot of silver lining around my blades being pinned to the boards the two times I've gone out there. [The youngster motions toward the squared circle.] BF: I've really had to ask myself if I've wandered onto the wrong stage. It's one thing to test my ability against an adversary and come out on the losing end. Be it because of insufficient conditioning, a counter-move I didn't anticipate, a mental mistake -- you know, those things are going to happen. But to be completely mauled the way I've been, especially after the amount of might and forethought I gave into the second match with Mizusawa, I can't help myself, Mark. I've go to start asking myself if I belong. [Stegglet reacts immediately as Fitzgerald places his hands upon his hips and hangs his head in a show of frustration.] MS: Don't be so hard on yourself, Bailey. You were in the ring with the largest man in the AWA. And not only that, but the man who has been running roughshod over all his opposition for months now. Obviously despite your shortcomings, your talent has impressed many - myself included - and you were included in the Steal The Spotlight Showdown we'll see here later tonight! What are you thoughts heading into the encounter? [Fitzgerald lifts his head, peering forward with seemingly a bit more optimism than moments before.] BF: My thoughts are the same they were the day I arrived, Mark. And I say that because the odds are I look at this match far more differently than the other nine men involved. [Bailey pauses as he examines Mark Stegglet's raised eyebrow.] BF: Because the simple fact is I have no interest in stealing any spotlight whatsoever. None. And as for the survivors earning non-title matches of their choosing in the weeks to come? Pffft. I could give a gee-whiz about that stipulation to boot... what would I ask for? A match with anyone not named MAMMOTH Mizusawa? [The half-smile returns now as Fitzgerald does his best to lighten the mood.] BF: My approach to tonight's showdown is that I simply don't view it as a shot to give my career a jump-start. It's certainly not my shot to garner a match of my choosing down the road. It's simply my shot at redemption. And it makes absolutely no difference to me at whose expense it comes. I'm out to prove nothing more than the fact I deserve being here. It may sound about as dull as the Thanksgiving Day butter knife, but it's something I'm yet to prove to any of these fans. To you, Mark. Or to myself. [A small pop as Fitzgerald looks about.] BF: But not only do I have to worry about the five individuals across the ring from me tonight, but I also have to question the motives of the four men I head into battle with. With the Matsui Corporation laying a hefty bounty on ANY of the participants ensuring MAMMOTH Mizusawa remains one of the survivors, I'm left to wonder whom I can rely upon. Would the "All-American" fire a proverbial dagger into my backside for the big pay day? Would Shaw? Would Riley? Would Lawson? [Fitzgerald tosses up his hands.] BF: The fact is, I'm yet to put together much of an offensive brigade against the gargantuan Mizusawa in my two opportunities to do so. Add to that the fact I'm now left with no choice but to continually be looking over my shoulder and I don't like my odds. Or our team's for that matter. Just know, fans -- I'll go to any length whatsoever to show you not one of you are being shortchanged. The first moment Von Klauss becomes distracted by someone shouting something about the V-W Bug, I'll be there waiting for him. When the Mammoth pauses to do his patented shout and arm raise, I'll be looking for my opening. If Velikov and Gregorson care to give a thought to... how you say... [Fitzgerald mockingly makes quotations with his fingers.] BF: ..."roughhouse" with one another again, I'll be across the ring looking to capitalize. And you can count on the fact that the moment Taylor takes time to blow that skirt of his a kiss at ringside, I'll be just steps away with Shane only seconds away from a return trip to the dressing room. [A bit larger pop now.] BF: I'm sorry to say I don't have a carry-on full of greenbacks to serve as my safety net to ensure my chances at stardom in the coming weeks. [Fitzgerald cocks his head back, sending an array of sweat flying behind him. He pounds his chest twice and shoots a glance at 'Ol Glory hanging from the rafters.] BF: But I've got a heart the size of this country that does. [Fitzgerald walks out of view as a grinning Stegglet points to the camera.] MS: Let's go up to the ring for our opening match! [We fade from the backstage area to the ring where Melissa Cannon is standing.] MC: Ladies and gentlemen... this is your opening match for SuperClash! [Huge cheer!] MC: And it is the STEAL THE SPOTLIGHT SHOWDOWN! [An even louder cheer!] MC: This is a five-on-five elimination match. The match will continue until all five members of one team have been eliminated. The surviving members of the winning team will receive any non-title match of their choice in the weeks to come! [Tomoyasu HoteiÕs ÒBattle Without Honor or HumanityÓ starts to play over the arena speakers. ] MC: Introducing first... at a total combined weight of 1505 pounds... the team of Werewolf Gregorson... [Gregorson is the first to walk through the curtain to a fairly mixed reaction from the crowd. He looks disappointed at the mixture of cheers and boos as he heads towards the ring.] MC: Vladimir Velikov! [The 300-hundred pound Russian walks into view, his heavy metal chain draped across his shoulders.] MC: Baron Von Klauss! [Velikov pauses, turning towards the entrance and welcoming his partner-in-crime, a lanky German with an attitude problem.] MC: "Scorchin" Shane Taylor! [Taylor steps into view alongside Kandi Kane. He struts down the aisle as she looks disgusted at the aisleside fans reaching to touch her.] MC: And MAMMOTH Mizusawa! [Louis Matsui emerges with a smirk from the entranceway. He is followed closely by the scowling seven-footer, MAMMOTH Mizusawa, dressed in a black singlet, black knee pads and a pair of black boots. Matsui points with his thumb over his shoulders at Mizusawa, who raises both his arms in the air. Both men start to make their way down the aisle.] GM: Over fifteen hundred pounds about to get in the ring for this squad... BW: And Mizusawa is about half that, Gordo. GM: Not quite but he's very intimidating nonetheless. You've gotta be impressed by this team, Bucky. We've got the giant Mizusawa... the veteran brawler Vladimir Velikov and his new henchman Baron Von Klauss. Shane Taylor's in there to add a little bit of speed and quickness to the squad. And of course, the wildcard is Werewolf Gregorson. He seems an unlikely addition to the team and I just don't know what to expect with him there, Bucky. BW: He's definitely the odd man out. I'm all in favor of anyone wanting to take out City Jack but I don't know if I believe it yet. GM: Well, it's almost time for Gregorson to show us where he stands. [As the massive fivesome steps into the ring, Melissa speaks once more.] MC: And their opponents... [The sounds of the Marine Corps anthem blasts over the PA, bringing the crowd to their feet as "Stars And Stripes" Clayton Shaw bursts through the curtain, American flag swinging back and forth through the sky.] MC: At a total combined weight of 1237 pounds... they are the team of "Stars And Stripes" Clayton Shaw! [Shaw stands right beyond the entrance, continuing to swing the flag back and forth.] MC: The All-American, Aaron Anderson! [The NCAA superstar collegiate wrestler steps through the curtain, nodding his head at the cheering crowd as he stands next to Shaw.] MC: Bailey Fitzgerald! [The lovable loser (so far) steps into view to a slightly louder cheer, pumping his fist in response.] MC: Corey Lawson! [Speaking of fist pumps, Corey Lawson is full of fist pumps as he jogs into view, reaching over to high-five all three of his introduced partners.] MC: And the final member of the team... Vernon Riley! [Another slightly larger cheer for the big man from Texas as he steps into view, shakin' his money maker to the roars of the crowd. He high-fives Corey Lawson and points to the waving flag before leading the other four men down the aisle, heading towards the ring where their opponents are waiting.] GM: Oh yeah! Now THIS is quite the team, Bucky. BW: Are you serious? A flag-waving geek along with a pot-belling hick, some wet-behind-the-ears Michaelson student, and two just flat-out losers? That's who they're puttin' in there, daddy? GM: I think you've overlooking them quite a bit, Bucky. BW: Is that a fact? We'll see 'bout that, Gordo. [The five fan favorites hit the ring, Clayton Shaw immediately setting the flag aside as he points a threatening finger squarely at Vladimir Velikov who, still holding the chain, waves for Shaw to "bring it on."] GM: Velikov's a brave, brave man when he's holding that steel chain, Bucky. BW: Shaw'll get his shot at him. Don't you worry 'bout that, daddy. [The referee throws himself between the two teams, arms spread wide to try and keep the ten men at bay. Mickey Meekly shouts orders at both teams, trying to get eight of the competitors out to the apron. Slowly, people start to exit the ring.] GM: Mickey Meekly didn't waste any time in trying to get control of this one. Obviously, he knows how important it is to stay on top of this one and just how easily it could be to lose control of these men. [With the rest of his team out of the ring, "Stars And Stripes" Clayton Shaw stays inside the squared circle to the cheers of the Dallas crowd. He paces back and forth, glaring across the ring where the rulebreakers are discussing strategy... ...but Werewolf Gregorson is having no part of it, having already stepped out to the apron.] GM: Gregorson doesn't want any part of this last-second strategy session, Bucky. BW: Maybe he's trying to lure someone into a trap. GM: From what I know of Werewolf Gregorson, that seems unlikely. On one side of the ring, Clayton Shaw will be starting off... on the other... well, that hasn't been determined yet. [At a bark from Louis Matsui, MAMMOTH Mizusawa steps over the ropes to the apron, leaving Velikov, Von Klauss, and Taylor behind. Shaw shouts across the ring at Velikov, demanding he stay and fight... ...which, of course, causes Velikov to step out to the apron. Von Klauss eyes Shaw from across the ring for a moment and then steps to the apron, leaving Shane Taylor behind.] GM: It looks like Shane Taylor's getting the nod for his squad, Bucky. BW: Well, he didn't want to be overlooked, here's his chance. [The camera cuts to the floor where the barely-dressed Kandi Kane walks along the ring apron, applauding for her man as he swings his arms back and forth to loosen up.] BW: She won't be overlooked either, Gordo. GM: I'd imagine not, yes. [With a wink to his "main squeeze", Shane Taylor slips out of the corner, moving to the middle of the ring where a disappointed Clayton Shaw is standing... ...and lunges into a collar and elbow tieup.] GM: They lock up in the middle... Shaw's definitely got a power edge in- whoa! [Shane Taylor drops down to the mat, whipping Shaw over in an armdrag takedown.] GM: I was just about to say that Shaw holds a power edge over Taylor but Shane Taylor showed off some skills there to secure the armdrag and take Shaw off his feet. BW: It's not always the biggest dog in the fight that takes it home, Gordo. GM: It's certainly not... you should remember that when you look at the five men standing in there for the fans here in the AWA. [Taylor smirks at the kneeling Shaw, running his hands through his hair before giving a sharp "Oh yeah!" in the direction of the former Marine. Shaw slowly gets back to his feet, nodding his head... ...and lunges back into a tieup. Shaw quickly spins Taylor around, powering him back against the buckles.] GM: Taylor into the neutral corner... [Shaw steps back, drilling Taylor with a right hand that knocks him off his feet. The crowd cheers as Shaw stands over him, fists balled up for a fight.] BW: Now look at that, Gordo! Those clenched fists are illegal! GM: Yes, yes they are. [Shane Taylor shouts for the referee to back off Shaw, Kandi Kane echoing his words as she slaps the ring apron a few times, gesturing wildly.] GM: Clayton Shaw takes a couple steps back, allowing Taylor to get back to his feet... [Shaw moves right back in... ...and catches a thumb right in the eye.] GM: Ohh! Cheapshot by Taylor! [Grabbing Shaw by the hair, Taylor sidesteps and HURLS Shaw through the ropes to the floor.] GM: And down to the floor goes "Stars And Stripes." [Taylor promptly exits the ring, stepping through the ropes to the apron. He pauses there, waiting for Shaw to regain his feet, and then leaps off the apron, smashing his elbow down across Shaw's skull.] GM: Elbowsmash off the apron! Oh my! [A grinning Taylor shouts out a "I told ya, baby!" in the direction of Kandi as he drags Shaw off the floor and promptly smashes his face into the ring apron.] GM: Taylor will need to be careful out there on the floor. A countout would eliminate him from the match, Bucky. BW: And take some cash out of his pocket. Louis Matsui has added an extra layer of interest to this one. Just who is gonna cash in? GM: The money from the Matsui Corporation is on the line just like that chance to make your own dream match. Imagine the possibilities, Bucky. We could see Shane Taylor taking on... perhaps Juan Vasquez. BW: Or maybe Clayton Shaw'll get his tail stomped by Raphael Rhodes. GM: Such an opportunity for all ten of these men tonight. [Out on the floor, Taylor drags Shaw near the ringside table where the ring announcer sits... ...and SMASHES Shaw's face into that wooden table, nearly knocking over a well-dressed but wild-haired man.] GM: Look out over there! Melissa Cannon scatters as does our timekeeper... and there's Dr. Bob Ponavitch, the AWA's official doctor. BW: What's he doing out here? GM: From my understanding, the Championship Committee asked him to be out here at ringside for tonight's Unsanctioned match. They're concerned about City Jack's eye injury and they want someone on the scene to be able to step in as needed. [Taylor drags Shaw back towards the ring, firing him under the ropes before rolling under them himself.] GM: Taylor back into the ring... back to his feet... [The crowd jeers as Vladimir Velikov reaches over the ropes, slapping Taylor on the shoulder to tag himself into the match. Taylor looks a little annoyed but steps aside as the Russian barrels through the ropes, promptly stomping Shaw over and over.] GM: Taylor didn't look too happy there, Bucky. BW: Shane said he wanted to prove something tonight and Velikov took that away from him for the moment. He's a hot-headed kid so you just never know how he'll react to something. GM: And Velikov took the chance to go to work on his rival who had already been weakened a bit. [Velikov hauls Shaw off the mat by the hair, throwing him back into the corner... ...where Mizusawa promptly wraps his massive arm under the chin and across the throat of Shaw.] GM: That's a choke! Come on, referee! [Mickey Meekly rushes to the corner, shouting at Mizusawa to break the hold. The count reaches four before the giant shoves Shaw away into a clubbing forearm across the back of the neck by Velikov, knocking the former Marine down to the mat. The Russian reaches over to slap the hand of Baron Von Klauss, tagging him into the match.] GM: Here comes the German! One of the most unique individuals I've ever seen in this business making his AWA in-ring debut right here. [Von Klauss promptly throws kick after kick to the ribs of Shaw, causing him to roll away... ...and then topples over in a sloppy dive, smashing his skull into the ribcage of Shaw. Down on his knees, Von Klauss throws a series of right hands to the ribs before applying a lateral press.] GM: That's our first cover of the match... but Shaw is up at two... [Outside the ring, Vernon Riley gives up a "Come on, Clay!" that brings some cheers from the crowd as Riley stretches his arm over the ropes, trying to get a tag as Von Klauss gets to his feet... ...and slaps the arm of Riley!] GM: Ohh! [The crowd roars as Vernon Riley steps into the ring, trying to get at the German... ...but Mickey Meekly intervenes, stepping in his path as he shakes his head, ordering a fired-up Riley out of the ring.] GM: And you can tell how badly Vernon Riley wants to get a shot at the German and the Russian. Riley came to the aid of Clayton Shaw a couple of weeks ago, saving him from Von Klauss and Velikov. We know that a tag match between those two squads is on the schedule for as soon as possible but tonight, we're getting a sneak preview of that one for sure. [Riley steps back to the apron reluctantly as Von Klauss glares at him, holding up that clawhold hand in a threatening fashion. A few more kicks to the body of Shaw forces him to roll to the ropes where the German hauls him to his feet. Holding him by the hair, he fires Shaw to the ropes, doubling him up with a boot to the gut... ...and then SNAPS him back down to the mat with a running kneelift. The German stalks to the corner and slaps the hand of Werewolf Gregorson, ordering him to continue the fight.] GM: And this should prove very interesting, Bucky. BW: These two used to be friends. It was Clayton Shaw who was the flagbearer for Gregorson and Despair well over a year ago in a match against the Russians so these two are not strangers. GM: Gregorson steps in... what's he gonna do? [Hands on hips, Gregorson looks around at the crowd buzzing with confusion in his direction. He looks at his partners who are imploring him to continue the attack... ...and then moves to act.] GM: I guess we have our answer. Gregorson hauls Shaw to his feet by the hair and- [Gregorson pauses for a moment, looking around at the crowd again... ...and shoves Shaw back into the corner of his team where Corey Lawson slaps him on the shoulder, tagging himself into the match.] GM: How 'bout that, Bucky Wilde? BW: I can't believe he did that! Shaw was softened up by his entire team and then he... he just let him out! [Corey Lawson nods his head in Gregorson's direction as he enters the ring, pumping a fist at the cheering crowd... ...but the two men never get to square off as MAMMOTH Mizusawa reaches a massive arm over the ropes, slapping Gregorson hard on the shoulder before stepping over the ropes.] GM: Uh oh! BW: I think Gregorson just made the biggest mistake of- [The crowd gasps as Mizusawa promptly wraps his hands around the throat of Werewolf Gregorson... ...and THROWS him back into their own corner. He points a threatening finger at the former Marine before turning back towards Corey Lawson who charges forward, throwing a dropkick into the chest of the seven foot giant!] GM: Ohh! Lawson with a textbook dropkick on Mizusawa! [The dropkick seems to catch Mizusawa off-guard, knocking him back to the corner where Lawson promptly races up the buckles, taking the second rope with a fist pump... ...and drives said fist into the skull of the giant!] "ONE!" "TWO!" "THREE!" "FOUR!" "FIV-" [But the count deflates to a buzz as Mizusawa reaches his tree-like arms up, shoving Lawson down onto the mat. But the spunky Southerner pops back up to his feet, charging forward... ...into a crushing knife-edge chop that takes Lawson off his feet and down to the mat!] GM: Ohh! What a chop by Mizusawa! [The giant steps out of the corner, pointing across the ring to the other four men on the apron... ...which prompts Bailey Fitzgerald to charge the ring, nudging past the official and blasting Mizusawa with a right hand to the skull!] GM: Fitzgerald charges the giant! BW: Are you kidding me? Hasn't this guy had enough of the big man? GM: Apparently not! [Fitzgerald continues to let the fists fly with the crowd screaming for more and the referee screaming for him to stop. Mizusawa stumbles back, surprised by the assault... ...and then knocked back into the corner when both Fitzgerald and Lawson charge forward with a leaping double shoulderblock! Huge cheer!] GM: Oh yeah! Fitz and Lawson are takin' it to the giant! [The two fan favorites pop to their feet, each grabbing a wrist on the big man, attempting a double whip... ...but the giant straightens up, refusing to move. Outside the ring, Louis Matsui shouts instructions to his charge.] GM: What is he going to- OHHHH! [The crowd ROARS as Mizusawa yanks hard on both of his tree-like arms, yanking both men towards him and through the ropes to the floor!] GM: The giant floors them both! Incredible! [The shot cuts outside the ring where both Fitzgerald and Lawson are laid out on the floor, trying to recover from the hard fall through the ropes. From inside the ring, Mizusawa leans over the ropes, waving for the two men to rise.] GM: Mizusawa wants them up and in the ring. BW: Good luck with that one. [Outside the ring, Kandi Kane drifts nearby, taunting the two men on the floor as Vladimir Velikov drops off the apron. The Russian pulls Lawson off the barely-padded floor, firing him under the ropes into the ring where the giant leans over, dragging Lawson up by the throat.] GM: That's another choke, ref. BW: He's counting. What more do you want? [Mizusawa holds Lawson close by the throat, glaring at the much-smaller man before shoving him back to the buckles.] GM: Corey Lawson is in the wrong part of town, Bucky... [Lifting that massive hand high, Mizusawa SMASHES it down across the chest in an overhand chop that knocks Lawson down to his knees. A quick camera cut shows a grinning Louis Matsui on the floor before Mizusawa slaps the waiting hand of Vladimir Velikov who steps into the ring and delivers a hard kick to the mush of Lawson, knocking him flat on his back on the mat.] GM: Velikov with the heavy shots on Lawson... [With Lawson down on the mat, Velikov lets loose a roar as he leaps up, smashing his knee down on the chest of Lawson before applying a lateral press.] GM: One! Two! Lawson's out at two. [Velikov pushes off Lawson to his feet before dragging the Southerner up by the wrist. He promptly fires him towards the ropes, racing after him with a clothesline attempt...] GM: Lawson ducks the clothesline... [And gets shoved aside by an incoming Werewolf Gregorson who charges across the ring towards Velikov... ...and OBLITERATES him with a spear tackle!] GM: SILVER BULLET! SILVER BULLET! BW: On his own partner! I knew Gregorson couldn't be trusted! [The crowd roars for Gregorson as he gets to his feet, staring at Velikov's prone form... ...and simply steps aside as Corey Lawson dives across the chest of the downed Russian, reaching back to hook a leg.] GM: There's one! There's two! And there's three! "DING! DING! DING!" MC: Ladies and gentlemen... Vladimir Velikov has been ELIMINATED! [Big cheer from the crowd!] GM: And we're down to five on four, Bucky! BW: This was a conspiracy by the Championship Committee, Gordo. They knew this guy couldn't be trusted. They knew he'd pull something like this. Vladimir Velikov just got robbed of his chance to face whoever he wanted to face! [Gregorson turns towards the rulebreaker corner, moving to join them when suddenly Bailey Fitzgerald comes charging in, pushing past Gregorson to throw a leaping right hand into the skull of Mizusawa!] GM: Ohhh! Where on Earth did HE come from, Bucky? BW: I have no idea but he's not the legal man! GM: Corey Lawson is legal for his team but who is taking Velikov's place in the match? [Shane Taylor slips through the ropes into the ring, ignoring Bailey Fitzgerald as the referee tries to haul him out of the ring. The Arizona youngster catches Corey Lawson with a knee to the gut, shoving him back to the corner and drilling him with a pair of chops.] GM: Taylor's got Lawson in the corner... [Moving to the ropes, Taylor fires him across the ring.] GM: Irish whip... big right han- baseball slide through the legs by Lawson! [Popping up to his feet, the Southerner leaps into the air, snaring the head of Taylor between his legs, and dragging him down to the mat in a rana!] GM: Ohh! Big headscissors takedown by Lawson! [Back up, Lawson backs towards the rulebreakers' corner... ...and spins around to throw a right hand at Mizusawa.] GM: What's he- caught! [The crowd jeers as Mizusawa, standing on the apron, holds Lawson by the throat... ...which causes Bailey Fitzgerald to charge across the ring again, leaping up with a flying kneesmash to the upper body, actually breaking the grip on Lawson.] GM: Fitzgerald's out of control! The referee can't keep him out of the ring! BW: Then he needs to disqualify him, Gordo. This can't go on like this! [Fitzgerald and Lawson get to their feet again, ready for another double team attempt... ...which allows Shane Taylor to drill Lawson in the back of the head, promptly hooking him around the waist.] GM: Belly to baaaaa- whoa my! [The crowd cheers as Lawson backflips out of the lift, landing on his feet... ...and stumbling back to the corner where he slaps the hand of Aaron Anderson!] GM: In comes the rookie! [The Minnesota native barrels across the ring, arm outstretched... ...but Shane Taylor ducks right under the clothesline attempt, allowing Anderson to rampage into the corner where Mizusawa drills him with an overhead chop to the skull.] GM: Oh! Big chop! That'll stagger you. [With Anderson dazed, Taylor pulls him down into a schoolboy rollup, complete with a handful of tights.] GM: He's got the tights! He's got the tights! BW: One! Two! Th- GM: Kicked out! Even the tights weren't enough to keep Anderson down. [With Anderson still dazed, Taylor throws a barrage of short right hands to the side of the head before shoving him back down to the mat. With a smirk, Taylor hops up on the middle rope, holding up the right hand... ...and leaps off the midbuckle, smashing his fist down on the skull of Anderson!] GM: Fistdrop! On the money! One! Two! Thr- ohh! Fitzgerald with a save there! BW: Get him out of there, ref! This kid is startin' to get on my nerves, Gordo. GM: The referee is reprimanding Fitzgerald again... [Which gives Taylor the chance to drag Anderson near the ropes, pushing his throat down on the middle rope.] GM: The referee is distracted and Aaron Anderson is paying for it! [The ref spins around, shouting at Taylor who breaks at a count of four, backing away as Anderson stays leaning over the ropes... ...and EATS a slap across the face from Kandi Kane!] GM: Oh, come on! There's no call for that! BW: No? You should have heard what he said to her! GM: Give me a break, Bucky. He didn't say a word in her direction. Fans, we've got to take a quick break. If there are any eliminations that happen during the break, we'll bring them to you when we get back. Don't you dare go away! [The camera holds on the ring where Shane Taylor is dragging Aaron Anderson to his feet before fading to black. After a moment, we fade back up on a very long shot of the exterior of a pretty dingy looking building.] "Have you ever dreamed of fame?" [Cut a little closer.] "Of glory?" [A little closer.] "Of your friends and family seeing you on television?" [And just a little closer, revealing a red, white, and blue sign that reads "AWA Combat Corner."] "Well, now you can make all your dreams come true by signing up today at the AWA Combat Corner - the official training school for the American Wrestling Alliance!" [We cut to the interior of the building where we can see lots of standard gym equipment surrounding a very basic wrestling ring. There are people lifting weights, running on treadmills, and of course, working out in the ring.] "With the very best trainers in the business, the AWA Combat Corner is the most-equipped training facility to get you in shape and get you in the ring in the shortest amount of time!" [Cut into the ring where Todd Michaelson is barking out instructions.] "With former World Champion Todd Michaelson leading the classes, you can guarantee that you will be prepared for in-ring action upon graduation and with the AWA expanding by the day, you will have a place to work on Day One!" [Two young students are grappling on the canvas.] "So, stop by the Combat Corner today... call our offices... visit our website... and let them know that you want to be the next AWA Superstar! You want to be the future of the business! You want to wrestle!" [Fade to a graphic that has all the info on the AWA Combat Corner. We freeze there for a moment... ...and then back to live action where Taylor and Von Klauss are double whipping Anderson to the ropes and taking him down with a double backdrop.] GM: Ohhh! Welcome back, fans... and Aaron Anderson has taken an absolute pounding during our break by all four of his remaining opponents. BW: This kid desperately needs a tag to get out of there but maybe he's a gloryhog like his teacher. Maybe Michaelson didn't teach him to tag out when you need to. GM: I highly doubt that. [Von Klauss peels Anderson off the mat, throwing awkward rights and lefts to the body that push Anderson to the ropes. A hard boot to the gut follows.] GM: The German with the whip... [He attempts a big boot but Anderson sidesteps it, hitting the ropes... ...where Clayton Shaw slaps the shoulder of the rookie, tagging himself in as Anderson runs right back into a side slam!] GM: Anderson gets PLANTED with that slam and- [BIG CHEER!] GM: STARS AND STRIPES! HE HOOKS THE SLEEPER! [The crowd roars as Clayton Shaw sinks in the cobra clutch and starts spinning his body around. After several rotations, he's able to get Von Klauss off the mat as well, spining round and round... ...before slinging him down to the mat and diving across his chest in a cover.] GM: ONE!! TWO!! THR- WHAT THE?!? [The crowd jeers as Clayton Shaw is yanked out of the lateral press and nearly under the ropes to the floor... ...by a sneering Vladimir Velikov.] GM: Oh, come on! Velikov just yanked Shaw out of the ring! He broke up that pin! I didn't even know he was still out here! I think he was hiding under the ring apron! [An irate Shaw gets up, lunging through the ropes to get his hands around the throat of Velikov... ...who responds by SMASHING Shaw in the head with the steel chain!] GM: OHHH! [The crowd buzzes with confusion when the bell doesn't sound and the referee instead dives down to count as Von Klauss throws an arm over Shaw's chest.] GM: Wait a second! No! [But the ref's arm goes up and down once... twice... and three times.] "DING! DING! DING!" MC: Clayton Shaw has been ELIMINATED! [The crowd jeers the announcement as a weary Baron Von Klauss rolls off the downed Shaw.] GM: The ref... I guess the ref didn't see Velikov hit Shaw with the chain! BW: Of course he didn't! He was blocked out by Shaw trying to choke Velikov! I love it, Gordo! GM: I don't. This is disgusting. We're down to four on four but I don't like this one bit. [With Von Klauss stunned on the mat, Corey Lawson seizes the moment to scale the ropes... ...and takes flight as the German rises, knocking him flat with a cross body block!] GM: ONE!! TWO!! THREEEEEEE!!! "DING! DING! DING!" MC: Baron Von Klauss has been ELIMINATED! GM: Oh yeah! How 'bout that, Bucky? BW: The German wasn't ready! That's not fair! GM: We're back down to four on three. Anderson, Fitzgerald, Riley, and Lawson taking on Mizusawa, Taylor, and Werewolf Gregorson... [With Lawson getting off the mat, Shane Taylor rushes in again, lashing out with a boot to the gut, doubling up the Southerner... ...and then THROWS Lawson through the ropes to the floor!] GM: Whoa! Lawson's out on the floor again... [But Lawson manages to land on a knee, avoiding the bulk of the impact as he gets to his feet... ...and EATS a baseball slide dropkick to the chin, sending Lawson sailing backwards into the steel railing!] GM: Ohhh! [Taylor rolls under the ropes, approaching Lawson who is kneeling on the floor by the railing.] GM: Taylor's moving in on him on the floor... [Pushing Lawson back over the railing, Taylor snaps a hooking right hand into the ribcage. He promptly hooks a front facelock, hoisting Lawson into the air... ...and dropping him ribsfirst on the steel railing!] GM: OHHHH! [Taylor refuses to take the countout though as he drags Lawson off the railing, throwing him under the ropes into the ring before rolling in behind him. With a smirk, Taylor regains his feet to the jeers of the crowd... ...and leaps up, SMASHING both feet down into the midsection of Lawson!] GM: Ohh! Double stomp connects... and there's a cover... [The count comes down once... twice... but a lunging save from Bailey Fitzgerald keeps the third slap of the mat from happening. Fitzgerald abandons the ring as an irate Shane Taylor gets up, hauling Lawson up by the hair.] GM: Lawson backed into the wrong part of town... [And Taylor steps back, uncorking a right hand.] GM: Right han- blocked by Lawson! [The fiery Southerner throws a right of his own to the cheers of the crowd! A second blow sends Taylor staggering back.] GM: Taylor's rocked off that one... [Lawson drops down to all fours, crawling through the legs of Taylor to make his way across the ring... ...and makes a LUNGING tag to the outstretched hand of Vernon Riley which sends the crowd over the edge!] GM: TAG! [The hefty Texan steps through the ropes, moving in on Taylor with a snapping jab to the jaw. A second jab connects as well... ...and a big winding elbowsmash to the skull puts Taylor down on the mat. Quickly spinning to his right, Riley smashes an elbow onto Gregorson as well, knocking him down on the apron.] GM: Elbow on Taylor! Elbow on Gregorson! Elbo-ohhhhh! [Riley steps up to the middle rope, attempting an elbowsmash on Mizusawa but a CRUSHING headbutt from the giant sends Riley sailing off the ropes, smashing down to the canvas.] GM: What a shot that one was! [A hurting Taylor reaches up to slap the hand of the giant... ...but has it slapped by Werewolf Gregorson instead.] GM: Gregorson tags himself in and- [The former Marine charges in, fire in his eyes as he stomps the downed Vernon Riley to a mixed reaction from the crowd.] GM: I think Vernon Riley upset the former Marine, Bucky. BW: No one likes to eat an elbowsmash. [Gregorson throws a few more stomps to the chunky chest of the Texan before leaping up and dropping a leg across the chest, staying on the mat as he orders a pin count.] GM: We've got one! We've got two! No! Riley fires a shoulder up! [The former Marine gets to his feet, hauling Riley to his feet and hooking him around the head and neck before hoisting Riley off the mat, pivoting... ...and DRIVING Vernon Riley into the canvas with a thunderous uranage slam!] GM: Good grief! [Gregorson is about to make another pin attempt when MAMMOTH Mizusawa leans over the ropes, slapping Gregorson on the shoulder, and then stepping over the ropes into the ring.] GM: Can he do that? BW: Can anyone stop him if he wants to? GM: Good point. [Once inside the ring, the giant pulls Riley off the mat, hooking him around the throat with both hands, powering him up into the air... ...and SMASHING him down to the mat with a double armed chokeslam!] GM: TUSK CRUSHER! That's it. [And Gordon proves to be correct as the referee quickly makes a three count.] MC: Vernon Riley has been ELIMINATED! GM: And that puts us down to a three on three. Bailey Fitzgerald, Corey Lawson, and Aaron Anderson taking on MAMMOTH Mizusawa, Werewolf Gregorson, and Shane Taylor in the Steal The Spotlight Showdown! BW: Which means that the good guys have lost two of the strongest men on the team. They've got nothing left. GM: They've got heart, Bucky. BW: Like I said... GM: I like the odds facing Anderson, Fitz, and Lawson. That's three guys who might be the future of this company, Bucky. BW: If they're the future, someone build me a DeLorean cause I'm goin' back to the good ol' days with guys like Cold Spell. [The giant straightens up, staring across the ring at Anderson, Fitzgerald, and Lawson who have taken a moment to huddle up, plotting strategy... ...something that does not amuse Mizusawa who stalks across the ring towards the fan favorite trio.] GM: Look out! [Mizusawa reaches out and grabs Anderson by the hair, connecting with a headbutt that sends the Minnesota rookie falling back into the buckles. Corey Lawson immediately lashes out with a pair of right hands. Bailey Fitzgerald follows up with the same, both men battering Mizusawa back to the middle of the ring.] GM: Lawson to the ropes... [As he approaches, Fitzgerald gets in his path and executes a backdrop, throwing Lawson into a front flip that smashes into the giant, knocking him back towards the ropes... ...where a rampaging Aaron Anderson clothesline smashes him a step closer to the ropes.] GM: The giant is dazed! [The All-American ducks down, wrapping his arms around one of the giant's tree-trunk legs...] GM: No way... absolutely no way... [The crowd cheers Anderson's efforts to power the giant off the mat in a single leg takedown... ...but a crushing elbow down across the back of Anderson's skull cuts him off and allows Mizusawa to hoist Anderson up in a gorilla press.] GM: Wait! Wait a second! [Mizusawa steps off the ropes, DRIVING Anderson out of the military press and into a crushing spinebuster!] GM: MAMMOTH SLAM! One. Two. And that's three. "DING! DING! DING!" MC: Aaron Anderson has been ELIMINATED! [The crowd buzzes with concern as Lawson and Fitzgerald back away, huddling up to look across the ring at their opponents.] BW: And NOW the tide has turned, Gordo. All match long, Fitzgerald, Lawson, and those punks have held the edge... now the big boys have the edge and this just got a lot more interesting to me, daddy. [Fitzgerald and Lawson stand near their corner, speaking to one another as they eye Mizusawa as he walks to the middle of the ring, simply gesturing with both hands for the two competitors to attack... ...and attack they do! The crowd breaks into a roar - as does the referee - as Fitzgerald and Lawson connect with a double haymaker on the giant.] GM: Oh yeah! These two are showing no fear, Bucky! BW: Then they're dumber than I thought they were. [The duo throws double haymakers over and over and over, causing Mizusawa to stumble back a bit towards the corner... ...where Shane Taylor slaps the giant's arm, charging into the ring.] GM: Taylor's in and- [And he runs right into a big double hiptoss down to the mat!] GM: Down goes Shane Taylor! BW: This is illegal, Gordo! Say something! GM: Well, uhhh... you're right. [Taylor pops back to his feet, charging in again... ...and eating a big double back elbowsmash to the chest, knocking the Phoenix native down to the mat... ...and then the duo charges across the ring, drilling a leaning-in-the-corner Mizusawa with another big double haymaker to the jaw!] GM: These two are on fire and- [Shane Taylor gets back to his feet, shaking his head to clear the cobwebs as he stumbles forward... ...and catches a double boot to the gut, doubling him up.] GM: Fitz and Corey hook Taylor by the arms... [With an arm slung over each man's neck, they power Taylor up into the air, taking him down in a big double suplex! Big cheer!] GM: Some great doubleteam work on display by Bailey Fitzgerald and Corey Lawson... maybe a sign of things to come... you know we've got that big million dollar tag team tournament coming up in about a month. But we'll have more on that later, Bucky... take a look at this! [The giant stumbles from the corner, showing some fire as he reaches out with both arms... ...and hooks his hands around the throats of both men!] GM: Uh oh! BW: So much for the spunky underdogs! They're going straight to- GM: No! Double boot to the gut breaks it up... oh my stars... BW: There's no way, Gordo! GM: They're going for that double suplex on MAMMOTH Mizusawa! They're gonna try and power that big giant up into the air like they just did to Shane Taylor! [But there seems to be little chance of that happening as Mizusawa refuses to move... ...and simply stands up, double backdropping both men down to the canvas to a disappointed buzz from the crowd.] GM: Ohhh! No dice for Fitz and Lawson and they just hit the canvas hard. BW: I told ya, Gordo. No way they're gettin' the big man off his feet like that. GM: Mizusawa is standing tall in the middle of the ring... [Shane Taylor slowly gets to his feet, patting the big man on the back as he staggers towards the two downed competitors.] GM: Taylor is the legal man... so he's going right back into the fray... [Pulling Lawson to his feet, Taylor snaps off an uppercut that knocks him back into the buckles. He lunges in, wrapping his hands around the throat of the Southerner, blatantly choking him down to his knees where a hard kick to the chest knocks him into a seated position against the buckles.] GM: Shane Taylor is no stranger to bending or out and out breaking the rules, Bucky. BW: Unlike his do-gooder brother, Shane knows he has to do whatever it takes if he wants to succeed in this sport. [A few hard stomps to the chest keep Lawson on the mat and allow Taylor to slowly back across the ring. He points with both hands at Lawson before charging across the ring, dropping into a baseball slide style dropkick to the face!] GM: Ohhh! That might be it for Corey Lawson, Bucky. [Taylor grabs him by the foot, hauling him out of the corner and applying a lateral press.] GM: One! Two! Thr- shoulder up! Lawson fires the shoulder up! [And Bailey Fitzgerald re-takes his spot in the corner as Lawson kicks out, clapping for his partner as the crowd cheers.] GM: It's not over for Corey Lawson. BW: Yet. Give Taylor some more time. GM: Taylor back to his feet... glaring at the referee... and Kandi Kane is out here on the floor screaming at the official as well. That's a little ridiculous if you ask me. BW: Nobody asked you, Gordo. She's standing by her man. I like that. GM: I see. [The Scorchin' One hauls Lawson off the canvas, rocking him across the chest with a big chop in the corner. He grabs Lawson's wrist, firing him across to the neutral corner... ...where Lawson leaps up to the middle rope, backspringing off with a cross body!] GM: ONE!!! TWO!!! THRE- OHHHH! [Shane Taylor rolls away, having just narrowly escaped defeat... ...and DRILLS a recovering Lawson with a double axehandle to the back of the skull!] GM: And Taylor catches him coming up! [Taylor promptly pulls Lawson up, kicking him squarely in the gut to double him up. The Phoenix native is all grins as he backs away and moves into a slow strut... ...before abruptly dropping down to his knees, lashing out with an uppercut that snaps Lawson's head back, dropping him to the canvas.] GM: Good grief! What a shot! [Taylor crawls across the ring, applying another lateral press.] GM: ONE!! TWO!! THRE- no! Shoulder up again! [A frustrated Taylor grabs Lawson by the hair, throwing fist after fist after fist into the side of the head before pulling him off the mat, shoving him into the corner.] GM: Taylor moves to the corner... and there's the tag to Mizusawa! [Gregorson looks a little agitated at Taylor having had his hand outstretched as well. He shares a few words with the Phoenix native as the giant steps over the ropes into the ring again.] GM: The giant's back in... [Mizusawa turns his back to the corner, backing into Corey Lawson's prone form... ...and THROWS his body backwards, smashing Lawson against the buckles!] GM: OHHHH! BW: If he keeps that up, we may need to hose down the ring to get Lawson out of here. [The giant turns out of the corner, reaching out to hook the Southerner around the throat, dragging him to the middle of the ring... ...and points at Bailey Fitzgerald before hoisting Lawson into the air!] GM: CHOOOOOOKESLAAAAAA- [But at the peak of the lift, Lawson snaps his knee up, catching Mizusawa in the bridge of the nose and causing him to drop the Southerner who promptly crawls, crawls, crawls, and LUNGES to slap the hand of Bailey Fitzgerald! BIG CHEER!] GM: OH YEAH! HERE WE GO! [Fitzgerald slingshots into the ring, charging across and drilling a stunned Mizusawa with a dropkick to the chest. He gets right back up, staring at the still-standing giant... ...and drops down with a dropkick to the knee that causes Mizusawa to stumble backwards!] GM: He's trying to chop the giant down! BW: Wait a second! Is that legal? GM: It's totally legal, Bucky! [With a grin, Fitzgerald starts throwing low kicks to the knee of the giant.] GM: Kick! Kick! Kick! It's working! It's working, Bucky! [Fitzgerald hits the ropes, charging back... ...and dropping into a baseball slide where he raises a leg at the last moment to drive it into the kneecap, actually dropping Mizusawa down to a knee!] GM: HE'S GOT HIM DOWN TO A KNEE! [The crowd is absolutely roaring as Fitzgerald pops to his feet, pumping his fists in the air. He races to the ropes again, charging back across the ring... ...and DRILLING a kneeling Mizusawa with a clothesline!] GM: BIG running clothesline by Fitz! BW: No effect! No effect! GM: I don't know about that but he didn't manage to take the big man down! [Fitzgerald looks a bit surprised before hitting the ropes again... ...and this time DRIVING both feet squarely in the jaw of the giant!] GM: Another dropkick! The big man is staggered! He's- [Popping to his feet, Fitzgerald is screaming at Mizusawa to fall... ...and then waves Corey Lawson into the ring. Lawson and Fitzgerald team up, throwing punch after punch after punch to the kneeling giant.] GM: They're gonna take him down even if takes them both to do it! [Lawson slaps his partner on the shoulder, pointing to the ropes.] GM: To the ropes... CAUGHT! [The crowd roars as Mizusawa hooks both men around the throats from his knees. He climbs to his feet, keeping the choke applied... ...but before he can chokeslam them to the mat, they both lash out with kicks to the knee, causing him to let go. They immediately leap into the air, connecting with a double dropkick that sends the giant stumbling back towards the ropes where...] GM: TAG! Gregorson makes the tag! BW: A blind tag! Mizusawa wasn't looking for the tag and he looks hot! [A furious giant spins around, glaring at Gregorson... ...and then reaches over the ropes, grabbing him under the arm and around the head before HURLING Gregorson over the ropes and down to the mat with a biel throw.] GM: OHHH! That's his own partner! BW: Who needs him? [Mizusawa turns away from Gregorson, advancing on the two men on the other side of the ring... ...and running into a barrage of punches and kicks designed to topple the giant.] GM: They're giving it everything they've got but they just can't seem to bring him down and- [Suddenly, Gregorson gets back to his feet, charging to the far ropes, rebounding back...] GM: Wait a second... what's he- [Fitzgerald and Lawson step aside as Gregorson charges towards them... ...and DRILLS Mizusawa with a spear tackle that sends the giant falling back to the ropes where he lands sitting on the middle rope with his arms draped over the top!] GM: SILVER BULLET! GREGORSON SPEARS HIS OWN TEAMMATE! BW: AGAIN! GM: I can't believe it but Mizusawa had it comin'! He's bullied the Werewolf for this entire match and [But as the legal man, Werewolf Gregorson, turns around... ...Bailey Fitzgerald pulls him down in an inside cradle!] GM: ONE!! TWO!! THREEEEEE!!! MC: Werewolf Gregorson has been ELIMINATED! [The crowd roars with surprise as Werewolf Gregorson pops up to his knees, looking on in shock at Fitzgerald who is celebrating the elimination. Shaking his head, Gregorson simply rolls from the ring, moving to walk back down the aisle.] GM: And we're down to two on two! Fitzgerald and Lawson against Mizusawa and Taylor! And the Fitz is going right back after the giant again! [With Mizusawa seated in the ropes, Fitzgerald approaches with a steamrollin' back elbow smash into the jaw. He squares up, throwing blows to the head of the giant who seems unable to defend himself. Outside the ring, Louis Matsui is SCREAMING at his charge.] GM: Gregorson's Silver Bullet may have slayed the giant! He's helpless in there! [Fitzgerald breaks off the assault, racing to the ropes... ...and runs RIGHT into a big boot to the jaw from the giant!] GM: OHHHH! [The giant stumbles back to his corner, slapping the hand of Shane Taylor who charges in, leaping up with a kneedrop and hooking the leg.] GM: One! Two! Thr- no! Fitzgerald gets the shoulder off the mat. [Taylor hauls the New Yorker off the mat, cracking him with a right hand that knocks Fitzgerald into the corner. A few more punches follow up before Taylor hooks a side headlock.] GM: Wait a second! Look at this... [Taylor charges out of the corner, leaving his feet... ...and DRIVING Fitzgerald facefirst into the canvas with a bulldog headlock!] GM: OHHHH! ONE!! TWO!! THRE- [But Corey Lawson makes a DIVING save of his partner to break up the three count.] GM: And in a complete opposite from the other team, Lawson and Fitzgerald continue to show incredible teamwork in here. I've gotta think the Championship Committee may be filling out an invitiation for this duo for the tag team tournament as we speak. [The Phoenix native fires a few choice words at Corey Lawson as he exits the ring. He climbs to his feet, dropping a few stomps on Bailey Fitzgerald before dragging him up off the mat.] GM: Irish whip by Taylor... [Setting for a backdrop, Taylor doubles up... ...just a bit too early as Fitzgerald hooks him in a front facelock, quickly reaching back to hook the rear leg.] GM: What's he- OHHHH! BW: Cradle suplex! GM: ONE!! TWO!! THRE- OHHHHH! [The crowd gasps as Taylor just BARELY gets a shoulder off the mat in time.] BW: That was three! That referee is... he's wrong, Gordo! GM: It looked very close but it was a two count, Bucky. The referee's repeating that to Bailey Fitzgerald right- now, wait a second! [The crowd jeers as Kandi Kane climbs up on the apron, shouting at the referee.] GM: What in the world is she doing? Get her down from there! [With Kandi Kane providing the distraction to the referee and a protesting Corey Lawson, Shane Taylor sinks down into his trunks, pulling out a black leather glove with glittering diamond studs across it. He slips it onto his hand while on all fours as Fitzgerald leans down to pick him up... ...and CRACKS Fitzgerald squarely in the jaw with the glove, knocking the New Yorker down to the mat.] GM: Ohhh! BW: What a right hand! GM: He had something on his hand, Bucky! He had a glove of some kind on his hand! Look! Look! [The camera catches Taylor removing the glove, stuffing it down the front of his tights as he crawls to apply a lateral press... ...which a shrieking point from Kandi Kane draws it to the referee's attention.] GM: No! Not like this! [The referee drops down to count. Corey Lawson attempts to get in to help but Kandi Kane reaches in, grabbing him around the ankle and providing just enough time for the referee to slap the canvas three times.] GM: Ohhh, come on! MC: Bailey Fitzgerald has been ELIMINATED! [Finally free of Kandi Kane's grip, Corey Lawson charges into the ring again, yanking Taylor off the mat and rocking him over and over with wild haymakers.] GM: He fires Taylor to the ropes... ohhh! Right hand to the midsection! [Lawson charges back the other way, CRACKING Taylor under the chin with a running kneelift!] GM: DOWN GOES TAYLOR!! [The Southerner pumps a fist, nodding his head as Taylor slowly gets back to his feet and EATS a right hand that knocks the Outlaw's little brother back into the buckles. Pumping that right hand again, Lawson steps up to the middle rope.] GM: Corey Lawson is full of fire right now! "ONE!" "TWO!" "THREE!" "FOUR!" "FIVE!" "SIX!" "SEVEN!" "EIGHT!" "NINE!" "TEN!" [With the haymakers unleashed, Lawson leaps down off the buckles, grabbing Taylor by the wrist to fire him across the ring into his own corner.] GM: Taylor hits the corner hard and... HERE COMES LAWSON! [The Southerner rampages across the ring, leaping up with his feet squarely in the gut of Taylor as he grabs him behind the head.] GM: Monkeyflip out of the corn- OHHHH! [The crowd groans as Lawson throws himself backwards where he crashes down to the canvas.] GM: Lawson just hit the mat hard and- I think Mizusawa caused that! Can we get another look at- [A quick split-screen replay comes up where we indeed see the giant hook Taylor by the back of the trunks, preventing him from being taken out and down with the monkey flip... ...and as we come back to live action, we see Mizusawa slap Taylor on the shoulder to bring himself into the ring.] GM: In comes the giant! [And the 420 pounder takes three giant steps across the ring, pushing off the mat... ...and CRUSHES Corey Lawson with a MAMMOTH splash!] GM: OHHHHH! That's it. One. Two. And there's three. "DING! DING! DING!" MC: Ladies and gentlemen... Corey Lawson has been ELIMINATED! Therefore your winners and survivors... "Scorchin" Shaaaane Taylor and MAMMOTH Mizusaaaaawa! [The jeers pour down on the Southerner and the giant as they celebrate their victories alongside Louis Matsui and Kandi Kane in the middle of the ring.] GM: Those two are your winners but... well, you just have to wonder how things would have turned out with a few more breaks for the good guys. Corey Lawson, Bailey Fitzgerald, all the rest... they've got nothing to be ashamed of. BW: Sure they do! They lost! GM: Taylor and Mizusawa are your winners and as a result, they will receive ANY non-title match of their choosing in the weeks to come. That should be very interesting. Fans, we need to take a quick break. We'll be right back! [The camera holds on the foursome in the ring celebrating their big win and we fade to black... After a moment, we fade back up on a shot of Jason Dane and Mark Stegglet in an apparently moving car.] JD: Hey, AWA fans - so much of our lives are now spent on-the-go, wouldn't you love to be able to keep track of your favorite AWA superstars when you're away from home? MS: I know I would, Jason! And I'd also love to have a place to put out all those rumors we hear during the week that never make AWA Saturday Night Wrestling. JD: You've got that right. Wouldn't it be great if we could combine both of those ideas into one? [Suddenly, a giant graphic of an iPhone appears between them!] JD & MS: NOW WE CAN! [A voiceover takes over - thank God.] VO: Starting today, you can download AWA Access - a great new application for your iPhone where you can get all the AWA news, rumors, and happenings before the rest of the world. And don't forget to check out the "exclusive" section for matches that never aired! AWA Access - coming to an iPhone near you! [Fade back to black... ...and then back up to a shot inside a darkly lit workshop. Standing before us is the #1 contender to the AWA National title, Juan Vasquez. He's rocking a black and gray argyle sweater vest with a white dress shirt underneath. His sleeves are rolled up and he appears to be admiring a steel cage prison large enough to fit...one person. He turns to the camera with a smirk on his face.] JV: I'm still standing, Stevie. [Juan grins and shouts those words just a bit louder.] JV: I'M STILL STANDING! [He chuckles.] JV: I'm not gonna' lie...you almost had me, man. You almost dropped me on my ol' cabeza with that piledriver and ya' almost put me outta' commission for good. _Almost._ [Juan holds his thumb and finger apart slightly. "Missed it by thaaat much!"] JV: But ya' know what? When those five men ran down to save me, the smile couldn't be any bigger on my face...'cause when those five decided to take a stand against you? That's when I knew that things are gonna' be different 'round here. That's when I knew that my words weren't just falling on deaf ears. That's when I knew the AWA wasn't gonna' be yours to abuse no more. [He shakes his head sadly.] JV: It's just a damn shame we couldn't band together sooner. It's a damn shame we had to lose Sweet Daddy, Broussard, Houston, Rogers and heck...even Comrade Sudakov, before we decided to stop putting up with your garbage. But you better believe it, amigo, the revolution is upon us. [A grin.] JV: Like the song goes..."the times, they are a' changin'." [He sighs happily.] JV: And really...that's just too bad for you. [He wags his finger at the camera like a disapproving parent scolding their child.] JV: For too long, you've been allowed to do whatever ya' pleased. For too long, we've had to suffer in silence and watch you turn the AWA into your own personal little playground. Well, newsflash, Stevie... ...play time's over. [Juan makes a hitchhiker's motion over his shoulder, pointing to the steel cage behind him.] JV: You see this thing behind me? You know what it is, right? [He waits approximately half a second before his excitement gets the better of him.] JV: That's Waterson's cage, Stevie! That's where we're gonna lock him away! That's where we're gonna bound and gag him, toss him in, and hoist him twenty feet into the air and away from your impressionable mind! [For effect, Juan slams his fist against the cage a few times.] *CLANK!* *CLANK!* *CLANK!* JV: See? Nice and sturdy! [Ben Waterson is relieved, we're sure. Meanwhile, Juan digs through his back pocket and produces...a pair of handcuffs. He dangles them in front of the camera with a big smile on his face.] JV: You see these shackles? Well, Gary Bright might got more muscles than a California governor and the Bishop Boys might got the brain, stench and strength of an ox...but the only way any of them are getting outta' these things... [He rummages through his pockets with his free hand, before producing a small item.] JV: ...is with this key! [Curiously, after saying that, Juan tosses both handcuff and key over his shoulders and proceeds to ramble on.] JV: I took 'em away from you, Stevie. I took the strongest man in the AWA and I made him powerless! I dared to challenge the "greatest mind" in all of wrestling and I outsmarted him! I did all this, because I know...I _KNOW_ just how far you're willing to go to keep that title. I risked it all...on that night in September, I put my ego, my reputation and my pride on the line for this one shot. I risked the things most important to me, just to get the chance to take your weapons away from ya', Stevie. So maybe...just *maybe*...now you realize just how far I'm willing to go to _take_ that title from you. [He shrugs.] JV: I could've chosen any type of match I wanted. I could've chosen a dozen different ways to find an excuse to bloody and maim...but believe me, people...this is the last thing that Stevie Scott ever wanted. [Smirk.] JV: A fair fight. [Juan raises his hands into the air and gasps in mock shock.] JV: There ain't no planning and there ain't no plotting to be done. There ain't an army to fear or a betrayal to look out for. I made sure...I made *damn* sure, that the only way anyone's walking out of Dallas with the title...the only way Stevie's keeping that title...the only way I'm _taking_ that title... ...is by winning this match fair and square. [He says this happily, enthusiastically, almost as if he welcomes this challenge.] JV: In other words, Stevie... [Juan pauses and smiles wide. There's really no doubt who he's thinking of when he delivers this next line.] JV: ...may the best man win. [We fade away from Juan Vasquez to the locker room area where Jason Dane and Mark Stegglet are standing side by side.] JD: We just heard from Juan Vasquez, the man who will challenge later tonight for the National Title against "Hotshot" Stevie Scott. That's going to be an outstanding matchup, Mark. MS: It is, it is! I've been waiting for that ever since Juan made the challenge for it. And when they hang Ben Waterson above the ring in a cage... bound? Gagged? Let's just say that a lot of us have been looking for ways to shut that guy up and we've got Juan Vasquez to thank for making it happen. JD: That's right... but that's not the only big match still to come tonight. A little bit later, we've got that big grudge match... the Final Showdown... between Rough N Ready and the Bishop Boys. These guys have been at war for MONTHS and the Championship Committee finally decided to let it happen here tonight. MS: And to make it even better... there MUST be a winner. JD: You'd better believe it. And at this time, I'd like to welcome one of the teams who'll be in that match... accompanied by their manager Sarah Sharpe... Dave Cooper and Eric Matthew Somers... Rough N Ready! [The trio steps into view. Dave Cooper and Eric Matthew Somers are already in their wrestling attire. Sarah Sharpe is in her usual attire.] JD: There must be a winner tonight in tonight's match featuring The Bishop Boys taking on these two men, Dave Cooper and Eric Matthew Somes, Rough N Ready. Sarah, it was Cousin Bo who issued the challenge and you did accept it... do you believe your men will get the job done tonight? SS: Jason, first of all, let me address something I really need to get off my mind. I'm usually patient when it comes to wrestling matters, and hey, I understand that remarks about how women have no place in a man's world comes with the territory. But that being said, for as much as Cousin Bo talks about how I have no business being anywhere but in the kitchen, he sure seems content to putting his nose into the business of his team when they are wrestling matches. You'd think he'd leave matters to Cletus Lee and Duane Henry, but the fact is, he's proven to be a little uncertain about just how good his team really is. I don't mind my own business when Dave and Eric are wrestling because I don't think I have a place in a man's world... I do it because I know that Dave and Eric have what it takes to get it done and I don't need to insert myself there. These two men beside me have proven many times over they have what it takes to get the job done in the ring. People can joke about Dave's age, about Eric's demeanor and about the fact I'm the opposite sex all they want, but it comes down to proving what you can do in that ring... and I absolutely believe that, tonight, Dave and Eric will prove just who is the better team. JD: Eric, you've heard Cousin Bo pretty much dismiss what you've had to say about how crazy you can be... EMS: [interrupting] Jason, you already heard Sarah point out one of Cousin Bo's deficiencies and now I'm about to point out another. Let me ask you, Jason, do you have any children? JD: Well... not yet. EMS: Let me tell you something about children, Jason... you'll sometimes get those children who will do something they are told not to do. But then, those children just don't listen. They turn around and keep doing what you tell them not to do. And no matter how many times you discipline these children, they just keep doing it. And they'll tell you to your face that, yeah yeah, I know what's gonna happen to me, but they still do it anyway. For those children, you end up having to do things the hard way to get the message through. Well, tonight is the night we do things the hard way. Sure, some people are gonna say that this plays right into the Bishop Boys' strengths... after all, they dropped my partner here on his head with a gourdbuster. They live for the double team... they'll use anything that isn't bolted down to their advantage. [His face hardens into an intense stare.] EMS: But you see, I'm very much capable of that... the only reason you don't see it that often is because Dave here is restraining me. Tonight, though, Dave will tell you this himself... all bets are off... and tonight, Cousin Bo, you and your boys get to find out what I've been saying to you... and you get to find out the hard way! [And this time around, Dave makes no attempt to calm his partner down. Instead, he just goes right to speaking.] DC: Jason, I'm not gonna deny that I don't have the same energy level I had when I was starting out in this sport, or during the years they would call my prime. But sometimes, when you take a man who has been through it all in his wrestling career and really test his patience, you suddenly find out that a man may not have the same energy level when he was younger, but he'll still have that fire burning inside him. And right now, that fire is turning into a raging inferno. [He looks square into the camera, pointing a finger at it at times.] DC: And Bishop Boys, the two of you are standing right in the path of that inferno... an inferno you aren't going to be able to withstand. My hands might get that touch of arthritis, but it's not gonna stop me from knocking you upside the head with them. My heart may have seen better days, but the blood is certainly gonna be pumping the more I dish out the punishment. And I may be accused of having bad knees, but they are still good enough to allow me to kick your rear ends but good. So bring it on, Cletus Lee and Duane Henry... and the two of you and that cousin of yours are gonna find out not only what it's like to lose to the better team, on its way to the final point for a National tag team title shot and a top spot in the upcoming tag team tournament, but also what it's like to be on the receiving end of one helluva payback! JD: Well, there you have it... Rough N Ready is certainly ready to... well, get rough... with the Bishop Boys! Let's go back to the ring! [The familiar pulsing intro of "Save Yourself" by Stabbing Westward fills the Dallas Memorial Auditorium, eliciting a huge crowd pop as the fans rise to their feet to see the legend himself, Mark Langseth.] GM: The fans tonight as ready to see the Hall of Famer Mark Langseth make his AWA debut tonight! BW: And just remember that it was me who broke the story of his return first, Gordo. GM: Somehow I don't think I'll forget. [After a bit of cycle of the music, the fans let out another huge cheer as Mark Langseth finally steps out of the entrance. Langseth's dressed unlike his his usual attire from years ago - gone are the jeans and instead he wears a pair of black exercise pants with silver and blue streaks down the legs. As well, he wears a plain black t-shirt and holds a microphone in his hand. His dirty blond hair's down around his neck, with some strand of gray popping out here and there. Like we've seen in his past promos, Langseth's face is mostly the same, but there are some signs of age showing as he hits the 40 mark.] GM: Even though we've been promoting this match for the past month, it still seems surprising to see Mark Langseth here in the AWA, wrestling. BW: Same, Gordo. I thought he was done with it all, but I guess none of us really can totally let go. [As Langseth stands atop the aisle, he looks on the crowd and smiles, taking in the whole experience. Finally, Langseth starts to make his way down the aisle, nodding to the fans and shaking a hand here and there as he passes by. Mark takes a moment again as he stands before the ring, breathing in a deep breath, before sliding under the bottom rope and bounding back to his feet. As Langseth stands and looks around once again, he brings the mic up to his face.] ML: Now - [Before Mark can really say anything, the fans start to let out another round of cheers and applause. Langseth smiles and laughs to himself before attempting to speak again.] ML: Now I just wanted to say - [Again, the fans interrupt with another round of cheers, bringing Mark to laugh again and shake his head, knowing this old bit from before but usually with boos than cheers. Finally, Mark makes a motion to the fans to quiet down, which they eventually do.] ML: Thank you, thank you... You know, I just wanted to say that it means the world to me to be here, in this ring. The AWA, they didn't really need to give me this opportunity, but they were open and accepting to me trying to satisfy my urge of a comeback, so... Again, thank AWA AND you fans. Cause, without you guys? [Langseth shakes his head again.] ML: Through the good and bad, you guys made me. So thank you. Really. [The crowd applauds as Langseth paces around the ring.] ML: Now! With that said, I really want to get down to business here and start this match. So, Melissa, if you'll allow me, I'd like to speak before the introductions? [Melissa Cannon nods and steps back for a moment.] ML: When I was thinking of who I should have this comeback debut against, I had a ton of names run through my mind. You know, I thought maybe some of my most bitter enemies or good friends through my career... Gabriel Whitecross! [The fans cheer the mention, but Langseth waves them off.] ML: But he's busy up North. Then I thought maybe... The Gremlin! [Again, the fans cheer.] ML: But, you know, I really doubt he'd be inclined to do me any favors. Then I thought, what about my most hated? What about the man who calls Dallas his home anyway? [The audience gives out a mix of boos and cheers at the thought of who Langseth's hinting towards.] ML: Then I remembered that Courtade's probably walking around with the aid of a walker, so that's out of the picture. So I thought, you know, I debuted as a cruiserweight early in my career... An a-typical cruiserweight, sure, cause I had no business leaping from any heights. [Langseth chuckles to himself.] ML: But I'm still in that weight class, so why not have my match against... A cruiser specialist? What better way to have this restart than to compete against one of the best cruiserweights I've personally encountered... but never fought? [The crowd buzzes a bit, trying to figure out who Mark's talking about.] ML: So, I made some calls and he was eager at the chance. So, without any further delay... [With that said, the PA begins to play Cirrus's "Stop & Panic" as the crowd lets out a loud pop for the surprise opponent stepping out of the entrance.] GM: That's Macht Kraftwerk! The German cruiser legend is here in the AWA to face Mark Langseth! BW: This match just got all that much better, Gordo! Here I thought we'd get another local found out by the back of the bar. [Kraftwerk wears the same attire he has his whole career - pair of green wrestling tights with a black band around the wait and a gold line running down each leg; black boots with gold bands around the top; black t-shirt; green & yellow striped armbands. And his distinctive mask: a tight fitting black mask that covers around his head with green trim around the orifices that stops at the brow with a gold band so Macht's bald dome can be seen.] GM: Unlike Mark Langseth, Macht Kraftwerk has been competing recently, but mostly overseas in Europe and Japan. BW: But Gordo, remember Kraftwerk was out for about three years with a back injury. GM: At the hands of the AWA's Shane Destiny, no less. [Macht Kraftwerk shakes the fans' hands as he walks down the aisle, but then stops and backs up a little bit... and then takes off, speeding towards the ring until making a full body slide under the bottom rope into the center of the ring. Macht immediately pops up to his feet and outstretches his arms as the fans cheer a little more for the fan friendly cruiserweight.] MC: This match is scheduled for one fall and has a fifteen minute time limit. Introducing first, weighing in at nintey point three-six kilograms, originally from Oberammergau, Germany but currently residing in Osaka, Japan... MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACHT KRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAFTWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEERK!!! [Another cheer from the fans as Macht raises his hand to the crowd.] MC: And his opponent... [The fans let out a bit bigger cheer now.] MC: Weighing in tonight at two hundred and thirty two pounds, from Pittsburgh, PA... MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARK LAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANGSEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEETH!!! [Mark nods to the fans as they continue to cheer.] GM: Langseth and Kraftwerk meet in the center of the ring as the ref talks to both men. These two have never faced off against each other, despite working together for all those years in EMWC. BW: And two different styles, that's for sure. Whereas Langseth works on the ground, Kraftwerk's all over the ring with quick hits and aerial moves. [Langseth and Kraftwerk exchange some words before shaking hands.] "DING! DING! DING!" GM: There's the bell and we're finally starting this match up between the returning Mark Langseth and Macht Kraftwerk. [Langseth and Kraftwerk circle each other in the ring, sizing each other up... before Kraftwerk breaks the standoff with a quick snap kick that connects to the thigh of Langseth. Before Mark can react, Macht uncorks another hard snap kick to the other thigh, backing up Langseth.] GM: Vicious kicks from Kraftwerk backs up Langseth early. [Another quick kick, this time to the ribs, sends Langseth back into the ropes. Macht doesn't miss a beat as he connects with a left and then a right punch. Langseth tries to cover up, but Macht sends him into the corner with another pair of lefts and rights, this time to the ribs. With Langseth's hands down, Macht finishes off the chain with a headbutt that sends Langseth slumping in the corner.] GM: Kraftwerk quickly in control here. Is this a case of ring rust? BW: Ring rust? Sure. Langseth's been out of the ring competitively for three or four years. [Macht backs up a bit and sizes up the dazed Mark Langseth as he attempts to get back on his feet solidly. Kraftwerk turns to his side and shoots his leg for his Superstoss superkick, but Mark ducks out to the right just in time. As Langseth dodges, he grabs a hold of Kraftwerk's leg and trips out the other leg, causing the German to fall to the mat as Langseth still clutches Macht's foot.] GM: He's got him! Mark's got the leg and... And it's in! Mark Langseth has his famed "Greatness Personified" anklelock on Macht Kraftwerk! BW: Wow, that was quick. Maybe there isn't any ring rust, Gordo? [The crowd cheers as Langseth locks on the standing anklelock to Kraftwerk. However, before the move can be sunk in any further, the German cruiser alertly grabs the nearby bottom rope.] GM: Kraftwerk wisely clutching that rope to break the ever dangerous Greatness Personified hold. BW: That'll be a problem now for Macht Kraftwerk - he lives on his feet in the ring and those kicks are his bread & butter. But with Langseth showing he can slap on the anklelock whenever Kraftwerk goes for a risk, it might get in the mind of Kraftwerk. [Mark Langseth backs up as Macht Kraftwerk gets to his feet, shaking his right leg from the affects of the anklelock applied. However, Macht quickly recovers and runs full steam at Langseth, knocking him down with a big clothesline.] GM: Clothesline connects! Kraftwerk now dragging Langseth up to his feet... [Macht peppers Langseth with some more open-fist shots before Irish whipping the Hall of Famer into the opposite corner. Macht quickly follows, launching himself as he approaches and connects with a leaping forearm/elbow shot to the jaw of Langseth.] GM: Huge flying elbow hits and Langseth's in trouble! BW: Aside from the anklelock, this has been all Kraftwerk, Gordo. Maybe it wasn't so wise to pick a guy who's been active at a high level to debut against? [Macht snaps a couple kicks to the sides of Langseth, bringing the former World Champion to slump down to the mat with his back up against the turnbuckle. Macht quickly brings a swift knee that connects to the forehead of Langseth, whipping his head back.] GM: Oh! That knee caught all of Langseth's skull! This match has quickly turned from a match showcasing the debut of Mark Langseth to one showcasing Macht Kraftwerk! BW: Don't forget that Kraftwerk's had an ability to knockout people with those quick strikes of his. Looks like Langseth could be one more hit to the head away from that, Gordo. [Langseth tries to get back to two feet, but his feet fail him as he slumps back down to the mat. Kraftwerk, meanwhile, runs towards the opposite corner, rebounds and leaps with a picture perfect dropkick to the side of Langseth's head.] GM: Dropkick connects! Macht Kraftwerk is running this match and ruining this debut for Mark Langseth! BW: He wanted a challenge and he's getting one, daddy! [Macht repositions Langseth, sprawling him just under past the corner, and then motions to the fans that he's going up top. The crowd - torn between the two - give out a half-hearted cheer.] GM: Macht going up to the top now. BW: Unneeded risk, if you ask me. GM: He's always been a showman, Bucky. Playing it safe isn't in his book. [Kraftwerk holds his hands up in the air before flying down for a frog splash... but just at the last second, Langseth rolls out of the way to a big cheer from the fans!] GM: Langseth moved! Kraftwerk ate all canvas on that would be frog splash! [With both men downed, the ref starts a count. At the count of four, both men stir, with Kraftwerk up first and then Langseth - with the assist from the ropes.] GM: Both men back to two feet. [Kraftwerk immediately rushes at Langseth, but Mark sidesteps the onrush. Macht rebounds on the ropes and ducks an attempted clothesline from Langseth. Macht then rebounds once more and leaps, but this time Langseth sees it and catches Kraftwerk around the waist and falls backwards in one motion as the crowd pops!] GM: Langseth dumps Kraftwerk on his head! BW: Saito Suplex! Wow, Gordo! I wasn't expecting that! GM: Langseth down with the cover... One, two, thr - no! Kraftwerk gets an arm up at the last second! [Langseth stomps on Kraftwerk's right ankle before dropping down, taking a hold of Kraftwerk's legs, forming a figure four and then locking in a regular cloverleaf hold.] GM: Cloverleaf applied on Kraftwerk. BW: And we've seen this before with Langseth - weaken the target to setup for the Greatness Personified. GM: Indeed, that same right leg caught in the anklelock before is being impacted right now. [Macht writhes in pain and Langseth bears down on the right leg as the fans cheer on. Kraftwerk bends up and shoots Langseth a couple wild chops to the face. Having enough of that, Langseth turns Kraftwerk over onto his stomach.] GM: Turned into a Texas cloverleaf now and Langseth's got it really locked in! [The ref asks Kraftwerk if he wants to give up, but Macht quickly shakes his head before making an effort to get to the ropes.] GM: Kraftwerk inching his way to the ropes! And... No! Langseth drags him back to the center! BW: And this is why he changed it to this version of the cloverleaf - much easier to move the opponent away from the ropes and control the hold. [The ref again asks Kraftwerk if he wants to give up, but the German again says no as he tries to rock back and forth, but to no avail.] GM: The longer Kraftwerk's in this hold, the more damage that ankle takes. BW: Don't forget the back, too, Gordo. Kraftwerk has a history of back injuries, so this move really can be a dangerous one for him. [Kraftwerk struggles his way again towards the ropes, clawing into the mat as he inches closer and closer to the ropes again. Some strain can be see on the face of Langseth to keep the hold in as his opponent moves the action towards the side.] GM: Macht's going for the ropes again! BW: Every inch he moves, though, really takes a toll on the German. GM: He's almost there! He's... He's got it! [The ref puts on a count, which Langseth abides by the three count, letting Kraftwerk go and backing away. Macht gingerly gets to his feet and shakes his right leg.] GM: And with that chain of cloverleaf holds, Langseth might have taken out much of Macht Kraftwerk's offense. BW: Absolutely, Gordo. Sure, the German has a decent ground game, but that's not how he wins. If he can't throw those kicks and hit those aerial moves, he won't win this match. [Langseth goes over to Kraftwerk and delivers a couple shots to the back before hooking in a rear waistlock. Macht shoots a couple back elbows to the face of Langseth, which stuns him back off. Macht quickly shakes his right leg, pivots, and then shoots the right leg up, connecting square to Langseth's jaw!] GM: SUPERSTOSS! KRAFTWERK HIT THAT SUPERKICK AND LANGSETH'S OUT! BW: Whoo, daddy, out of nowhere! [Langseth's fallen to the mat, out cold, but so has Kraftwerk as he clutches the lower part of his leg.] GM: Kraftwerk can't make the cover! He's in too much pain after that superkick. BW: Thanks to Langseth's working over that right ankle, he's bought himself some time here. If Kraftwerk could make the cover, he'd win this match. [Macht grits his teeth and snakes over to the still downed Langseth. He finally gets there and makes a lateral press.] GM: Cover by Kraftwerk - one, two, three! NO! [The crowd cheers as Langseth gets his arm up right before the three count. Macht looks at the ref, who holds up two fingers. Kraftwerk slumps his shoulders a bit before very gingerly getting to his feet.] BW: That was as good a chance as any, Gordo. He ain't going to be able to uncork those sort of moves with that leg much any more. GM: He may still have some bullets in the chamber, but they sure are dwindling in number as that right leg looks worse for wear. [Macht limps about the ring as he gets to the corner, leaning on the turnbuckle to alleviate the pressure on the right leg. Meanwhile, Langseth gets to one knee, shaking his head.] GM: Langseth now back to his feet as he tries to get back into this contest. BW: Even after taking that superkick, Gordo, I still have to think Langseth has this match in hand. Macht's in trouble with an injured right leg and that anklelock looming. GM: Maybe, but Kraftwerk's wrestled hurt and shown he can dig deep past the pain. [As Myers finishes, Kraftwerk does indeed show that fighting spirit and runs towards Langseth and leaps up in a headscissors that sends Langseth spinning!] GM: Spinning headscissors sends Langseth reeling! [Langseth stumbles about, disoriented, as Kraftwerk comes firing out from the ropes and clutches the back of Langseth's head and leaps!] GM: OH! FLYING BULLDOG BY MACHT KRAFTWERK! Another cover - one, two, th- NO! Langseth kicks out in time! BW: How is he able to still move like that? He shouldn't be able to put any pressure on that right leg. GM: Like I said, he fights with heart. BW: Yeah, well, heart only you gets you so far, Gordo. [Langseth sits up, but he doesn't see the oncoming knee that connects to the side of his head.] GM: Vicious knee strike by the German junior wrestler! Kraftwerk drops down for another cover - one, two, thre - NO! Again, Langseth breaks the count. [Kraftwerk gets back up, shaking his right leg a bit as he drags a dazed Langseth back up with him in a front facelock. Macht then lifts Langseth up in the air, hooking the leg as he does so and slams Langseth head first into the mat!] GM: THE COVER - ONE, TWO, THREE - NO! BW: Wow, Gordo, that was close! He almost got him with the fishermanbuster! [Macht's eyes have a look of disbelief as the ref holds up two fingers.] GM: Langseth has always been reliant, but he also has a history of neck injuries. That fishermanbuster suplex didn't help. BW: And while Langseth's been going after Kraftwerk's ankle, Kraftwerk's been targeting Langseth's head. Great strategy on both men's parts. [Kraftwerk gets up and makes his way up to the top, wobbles slightly, but then gains his balance before leaping into the air, flipping over and then hitting down on a prone Mark Langseth to a big cheer from the crowd!] GM: MOONSAULT CONNECTS! High risk pays off! [Instead of a cover, Kraftwerk takes a moment to grab at his right leg again.] BW: It did, but that landing put some more pain on that injured leg. GM: Kraftwerk with another cover - one, two, thr - no! Again, Langseth breaks up the count! [Kraftwerk gets back to his feet and drags Langseth up with him. Kraftwerk applies a rear waistlock and attempts to lift for a German Suplex.] GM: Suplex attempt blocked by Langseth - standing switch and now Langseth has the waistlock! [Instead of a German, though, Langseth switches to the side, hooks the back of Macht's head and near leg. But before Langseth can go for the side Russian legsweep, Kraftwerk shoots a couple elbows back.] GM: Side Russian legsweep blocked as Langseth staggers back from those elbow shots. BW: His head still has to be ringing, Gordo. [As Langseth shakes his head, Kraftwerk's already in attack mode as his swings his leg around.] GM: Spinning heel kick attempt, but Langseth caught it! BW: Wasn't a crisp form, Gordo. [Langseth holds onto the leg, but Kraftwerk tries for the backup plan of an enziguri. However, Langseth ducks under the attempt and twist the right leg around in a rapid, vicious motion.] GM: Enziguri countered with that devastating dragon screw leg whip! BW: Kraftwerk's in some serious pain, Gordo! That move alone can cause a tear or sprain, but on top of what Kraftwerk's already gone through tonight? He's done. [Kraftwerk groans in agony as he clutches his leg, but he still has the presence of mind to clutch the bottom rope.] GM: He may be in some serious pain, but Kraftwerk knows that as long as he's near the ropes, he can avoid the Greatness Personified. BW: For now, Gordo. For now. [Langseth stomps away on the right leg of Kraftwerk, but is soon pushed away by the referee as Macht holds onto the bottom rope. Langseth, a bit annoyed, puts his hands on his hips as he waits.] GM: It's still a little odd to see Langseth abide by the rules here - for so long, he relied on cheating and underhanded tactics to get ahead. BW: Yeah, I kind of liked that version of Langseth than this nice guy routine. GM: Routine? BW: Gordo, you can never tell if it's an act or not with this guy. He's an opportunist and a manipulator at heart. GM: Maybe, but he's always shown to be a fighter. [Langseth takes in a couple deep breaths as Kraftwerk finally gets to his feet, heavily favoring his right side as the fans cheer on both men.] MC: TEN MINUTES HAVE EXPIRED - FIVE MINUTES REMAIN! GM: Five minutes left in this hard fought match between the debuting Mark Langseth and the journeyman cruiserweight Macht Kraftwerk. BW: It's been a good one, Gordo! [With Langseth waiting, Kraftwerk lets go of the ropes and charges at the Hall of Famer with a clothesline attempt, but Langseth ducks it, turns, and clips out the right leg.] GM: Desperation attempt by Kraftwerk turns into a knee clip by Mark Langseth. It almost seemed like he was waiting for Kraftwerk to initiate the action. BW: Langseth knew going into this match that Kraftwerk's an offensive minded sort and likes to create action. He's letting the German create the opportunities. [Langseth drops down and hooks Macht's ankle with his leg and then attempts to lock in the facelock.] GM: STF attempt by Langseth, but Kraftwerk contorts his body enough to grab onto the nearby rope! BW: He's lucky that wasn't in the center or else he surely would have tapped there. [A frustrated Mark Langseth gets up and again waits on Kraftwerk to get up and away from the ropes. Macht takes his time, learning from the last attempt.] GM: Macht being careful and it looks like Langseth's a bit antsy in the ring. BW: He wants this win, Gordo, and he knows the time's running out on this match. [Langseth watches like a hawk and once Kraftwerk does let go, he rushes in and locks in a full nelson.] GM: Full nelson applied as Langseth tries to take the action to the center of the ring. [Once in the center, Langseth starts to let go of the hold... however, Kraftwerk quickly switches back and applied a three-quarter nelson and then falls back, slamming the Hall of Famer on his head!] BW: DAS STEIGEN! OUT OF NOWHERE! GM: BRIDGED - ONE, TWO - no! His legs gave out and broke up the bridging pin. BW: Wow, Gordo! Where is he getting this from? GM: He's a world-class competitor, Bucky, and determined to win tonight in front of these AWA fans. BW: After that suplex, I'm not surprised that Langseth's still yet to get up. He got his noggin rocked again. GM: Some injuries never go away, certainly not head and neck ones. I know he's been concussed before, most notably early in his career against fellow Hall of Famer Tiger Claw. BW: And Kraftwerk's a similar style to Tiger Claw - knockout striking capability. MC: TWO MINUTES REMAIN! GM: Two minute warning and it's getting down to the wire now for these two men. [Kraftwerk again shakes out the leg as he shakes his head in disappointment in not being able to hold the bridge. Langseth, meanwhile, finally stirs.] GM: Langseth moving now, but I don't think he sees Macht Kraftwerk perched behind him! BW: He looks ready to knockout Langseth with that deadly snap kick of his. If he connects, I can't see Mark Langseth sustaining another blow and getting back up. [Langseth gets to one knee, shaking his head for a moment. The German cruiser then gets in position to strike, snapping out his right leg to the temple of Langseth... However, this time, Langseth catches the oncoming strike and grasps the foot and ankle of Kraftwerk right leg!] GM: LANGSETH HAS THE RIGHT LEG! HE HAS IT HOOKED! [Langseth gets to two feet, tripping out and downing Kraftwerk as he applies his finisher.] GM: HE HAS THE GREATNESS PERSONIFIED HOOKED IN! BW: Kraftwerk has nowhere to go! He's in the center of the ring, Gordo, and he's in agony! [Kraftwerk howls in pain as Langseth vigorously clamps down and twists the ankle of Macht Kraftwerk. The ref asks Kraftwerk if he wants to give up, but the German spits out a "NEIN!" through his clenched teeth.] GM: Macht Kraftwerk refusing to give up! Despite all the pain that leg has sustained, he refuses to quit here tonight! [Kraftwerk again tries to creep his way towards the ropes, making it about halfway before the former World Champion yanks the action back to the center of the ring.] GM: Langseth's determined to get the victory as he stretches that leg of Kraftwerk moreso than before! How long can the German superstar withstand this pain? BW: He knows there's not much time left on the clock, Gordo! He's thinking maybe if he can just gut out another thirty seconds, he can escape with a tie. [The ref again asks Kraftwerk if he wants to give up. The German cruiser doesn't immediately answer, bringing the ref to ask him again - louder, more forceful - which brings out another "NEIN!", but weaker in tone.] GM: Kraftwerk's fading - the pain's just too much for him! [Langseth, meanwhile, digs back further, impacting the ankle with his forearm which brings out a shot of pain to the German that he just can't bear any further!] GM: KRAFTWERK TAPS! MACHT KRAFTWERK HAS TAPPED OUT TO THE GREATNESS PERSONIFIED! [The crowd explodes as Mark Langseth raises his arms, briefly, before hunching over and getting in some air to recover.] BW: With only about ten or twenty seconds to spare, Gordo! That was just too much time for Kraftwerk to spend further in that hold before something even more serious happened. MC: Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of the match via submission... MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARK LAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANGSEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEETH!!! [The referee raises the arm of an exhausted Mark Langseth as the fans cheer again.] GM: Big win in Mark Langseth debut tonight against a tough competitor. BW: I'll say - this was a risk, though, Gordo. By going up against Macht Kraftwerk, Langseth exposed some weaknesses. But for tonight, it's a great win. [Macht Kraftwerk stirs, rolling towards the ropes slowly, showing he's still in deep pain from being in the Greatness Personified for so long. The referee checks on him, but the German cruiser waves him off and climbs up the ring ropes with his arms. He then leans against the turnbuckle, totally spent of all energy.] GM: And you have to give it to Macht Kraftwerk for coming here tonight to wrestle Mark Langseth. He's always had problems against technicians, but he still made it out here for the fans. [Langseth approaches Kraftwerk and extends a hand. The German nods and accepts the gesture, his hand meekly shaking Langseth's. Mark then holds up Kraftwerk's arm as the fans give another round of applause as we fade to black. ...and then back up. It's a shot of a few kids standing outside of a classroom. A fourth kid walks up to them, carrying his backpack over his shoulder.] 4th Kid: Hey guys... wait til you see what I got from AWAShop.com! [He whips open the backpack and produces... ...a JUAN VASQUEZ BOBBLEHEAD!] "Whoa!" "Wow!" "That rocks!" "I want one... now!" [The 4th kid looks pleased with himself... ...until a fifth kid walks up.] 5th Kid: Juan Vasquez, huh? That's not bad... but check this out! [The 5th kid opens his backpack and reveals... ...a CITY JACK BOBBLEHEAD!] "WHOA!" "WOWER!" "THAT ROCKS MORE!" "I WANT ONE... NOW!" [The fifth kid looks proud as the fourth kid looks sad at his Vasquez bobblehead and we fade to black... And then fade back to the ring where Jason Dane is standing.] JD: Ladies and gentlemen... at this time... please welcome the man who serves as the Chairman of the AWA Championship Commitee... Mr. Stephen Ross! [There's a mixed reaction from the crowd as Stephen Ross steps into the frame, shaking the hand of Dane.] JD: Mr. Ross, thank you for joining us here tonight at SuperClash! SR: It's my pleasure, Jason... and what a night this has been so far, fans! [Big cheer!] JD: Now, Mr. Ross... the reason we asked you out here tonight was to talk about the AWA's next major event. Coming up on December 25th and 26th, we've got this huge tag team tournament that's been announced. Can you tell us some more about this event? SR: Absolutely and the key word you just said there was "huge." Because that's exactly what this tournament is going to be. We aimed for having the biggest tag team tournament in wrestling history and I think we're going to accomplish that. Everyone already knows the stakes - a shot at the AWA National Tag Team Titles... and ONE... MILLION... DOLLARS! [HUGE CHEER!] SR: December 25th and 26th in Laredo, Texas... And here's some new info for you... we are inviting 16 teams to participate! We know that the winners of Kentucky's Pride and Dufresne and Freeman will earn the #1 seed. We know that the winners of Rough N Ready and the Bishops will receive the #2 seed. [Ross nods.] SR: But let's talk about some of the teams that we've secured for this tournament. The Right Proper Thugs are in due to their top contender status. That makes three teams in... thirteen to go. The War Pigs will be back from Japan... they're coming back from Japan specifically for the tournament. Twelve teams left to name. Due to their impressive showings against one another a few weeks back, both Simply The Best and the Fabulous Falcons have been invited to compete. That leaves ten spots. [Ross waits for some cheers to die down.] SR: But we not only wanted to bring you the best tag teams currently in wrestling... we also wanted to go out and find some tag teams from the sport's past. And when you dangle a million dollars in the air, a lot of teams are willing to step up and reunite for one event like this. After some tough negotiations, we have reunited a tag team that held the EMWC World Tag Team Titles on TWO occasions. Back in their day, they were widely considered one of the best teams in the sport and on December 25th, they will reunite for the first time in several years to try and win one million dollars... [Dramatic pause.] SR: Andrew "Flash" Tucker... "Money Driven" Mike Sebastian... STRICTLY BUSINESS! [BIG CHEER from the capacity crowd! Stephen Ross nods and smiles proudly.] SR: Nine spots left. I'm gonna give you one more here tonight. Earlier today, the latest members of the Pro Wrestling Hall of Fame were inducted. Congrats to those gentlemen. But someone who was missing from that induction is a team that many consider to be a surefire Hall of Fame team as soon as they hang up the boots. They are a team that are known throughout the industry and have competed all over the world. And they are a team who just couldn't resist comin' to town with a million dollars on the line... [Dramatic pause!] SR: Doc Holliday! Brent Maverick! THE OUTLAWS ARE COMIN'! [HUUUUUUUUGE CHEER!] SR: So, that leaves eight teams to announce which we will do in the days and weeks to come. Which really only leaves me with one thing left to announce... ...the name of the event. [Wait for it... wait for it...] SR: In honor of the promotion that continues to inspire us to be all that we are capable of, the American Wrestling Alliance will proudly present on December 25th and 26th... THE STAMPEDE CUP! [A respectful cheer goes up from the crowd.] JD: The Stampede Cup Tournament is coming up in just a few short weeks, fans... and speaking of tag teams, let's go back to the locker room area where The Bishop Boys are standing by with Mark Stegglet! [Cut to backstage, where, indeed, Mark Stegglet stands with three imposing individuals. The well-dressed man with the gift of gab, Cousin Bo. And the two menacing rednecks behind him, Cletus Lee and Duane Henry, The Bishop Boys. Duane Henry checks his wrists as Mark raises the mic.] MS: Thanks, Jason. Mr. Allan, tonight's the night you and your cousins have long been waiting for. There must be a winner, and not only does the winning team gain that third point, but they also earn the second seed in The Stampede Cup tournament! [Bo nods.] CB: Indeed, Stegglet. But let's forget about that tournament for now. [Bo waves an index finger at the camera.] CB: You see, all that extraneous stuff doesn't matter right now. This... [Bo looks to the sky.] CB ...this isn't about tournaments, this isn't about who's right and wrong, the main event, none of that is our concern right now. [Bo shakes his head disdainfully.] CB: This is all about The Bishop Boys versus Rough N Ready. Like you said, Stegglet, there MUST be a winner. And I'll guarantee you something right now. One team will stand tall. The other? [Bo makes it obvious who he's talking about, as he points right at the camera.] CB: The other doesn't leave this building without some serious professional medical care. [Bo turns to Mark.] CB: Now let me turn the tables and ask _you_ a question. MS [nervously]: Um, okay. CB: You've been watching this feud from the very start, right? MS: Yes. CB: So I assume you'll recall that it was Rough N Ready that started this, when they came out and interfered in OUR business. MS: Well, yes, but you were complaining about a lack of competi... CB [interrupting]: Not the point. I'll also assume that you remember how Rough N Ready made a big stink about us not underestimating them, correct? MS: Yes, I do. CB: Okay, so since you're up to speed on what's been happening, maybe you can inform me why, ever since Rough N Ready FORCIBLY got Ben Waterson and his boys into the equation, it's gone completely the other way. MS: Huh? I don't understand. CB [sarcastically]: Well, Mr. Broadcast Journalist... [Bo rolls his eyes.] CB: Ever since Stevie Scott reached the top of the food chain, all we've heard is... [Bo clears his throat.] CB: "Grrrrr, we're Rough N Ready and we don't think you're a nice man, Waterson. We want to make sure you don't run the show, even though YOU ALREADY DO! Look at us, we're friends with two other guys that used to be just like Stevie, before they got left in the dust by bigger, better men and went soft!" [Bo gives a mocking wide grin and double thumbs up. Suddenly, he scratches his head, as if he's forgotten something. Cletus Lee leans over and whispers something to Bo.] CB: "Oh, and The Bishop Boys aren't nice, either. I guess we'll fight them if we absolutely HAVE to. We don't wanna, but Mr. Ross says otherwise, and we're good corporate suckups, so we'll do as we're told." [Bo spits right at Mark's feet, then looks him right in the eyes.] CB: NOW who's overlooking who?! [Mark backs off, surprised by the venom in Bo's voice.] CB: Every week now, all we hear from them is the same cliched do-gooder Batman and Robin BS. And ALL of it is directed at three men. Ben Waterson, Stevie Scott, and Gary Bright. BIG MISTAKE! [Bo gestures to himself and his cousins.] CB: The three men you better be worried about are on your TV screen right now. If you're looking to royally piss us off, congratulations, mission accomplished. In case you've forgotten, rules are out the window in this match. Until there's a pinfall or submission, we're free to bash what's left of your brains out for as long as we want. [Bo grimaces.] CB: But don't worry. We'll put you out of your misery. [Duane Henry yanks the mic out of Stegglet's hand.] DHB: Eventually. [Duane Henry shoves the mic right back into Stegglet's gut before leaving with Cletus Lee.] MS: Gah! CB: Tonight, the old cornerstone of the AWA's tag division crumbles. And gets replaced by the Redneck Wrecking Crew themselves, The Bishop Boys. Soon to be National Tag Team Champions. [Bo looks at the winded Stegglet and mutters something under his breath before walking away. Mark gestures to cut back to ringside. We fade to the ring where Melissa Cannon is already standing.] MC: The following contest is a tag team match scheduled for one fall and there MUST be a winner! [Big cheer!] MC: The winner of this match will receive their third point and a shot at the National Tag Team Champions as well as the #2 seed in the Stampede Cup Tournament! Introducing first... ["Trashville" by Hank Williams III kicks in to a raucous negative reaction from the crowd.] MC: From Kingsland, Arkansas... at a total combined weight of 568 pounds... accompanied to the ring by Cousin Bo... Duane Henry... Cletus Lee... THE BISHOP BOOOOOOOOOOYS! [The curtain is ripped open by Duane Henry as he marches into the Dallas Memorial Auditorium... ...and promptly leaps right over the small rope diving the entrance aisle from the crowd. He immediately gets in the face of a large man sporting a cowboy hat.] GM: Whoa! Whoa! [Duane Henry is screaming and shouting at the man, spit flying everywhere as he roars. He promptly picks up the steel chair that the man was standing on, flinging it over his shoulder into the aisleway. Cousin Bo stalks through the curtain next, a wide smile on his face as he watches his cousin go nuts. After a moment, big Cletus Lee brings up the rear, staring out over the rabid crowd.] GM: Can we get some security back there? [Duane Henry continues to scream at the large fan who starts to look a little irritated. The smaller Bishop rips the cowboy hat off the man, throwing it down to the floor as he jabs a finger into the man's chest. Cletus Lee steps over the ropes as well, kicking over a row of seats as he marches right next to his brother, joining him in staring at the now-outnumbered fan. Spinning away from the fan, Duane Henry starts to walk towards the ring... ...through the crowd.] GM: These are nuts, Bucky! BW: Nobody ever accused them of sanity. [Stalking through the crowd, Duane Henry pauses every few moments to shout at a ringside fan, threatening a backhand in the direction of a few of them. He tosses a few more chairs as he stomps through the fans, actually shoving a guy selling beers, knocking him down to the floor before hurdling the ringside barricade. The camera cuts back up the aisle where Cletus Lee is still staring dead in the eye of the former-cowboy hat wearing fan who raises his hands defensively, shrinking back down into a seat. Shaking his head, Cletus Lee turns away, walking down the aisle with Cousin Bo trailing behind him, also shouting at anyone giving him a hard time along the aisleway.] GM: This is out of control already and the match hasn't even started yet. BW: Just remember... there must be a clear winner, Gordo. In my mind, that means no DQ... no countout... GM: I'm not sure if that's official but... [Reaching the ring, Cousin Bo climbs up on the apron as Cletus Lee steps into the ring. Bo immediately starts shouting at Michael Meekly, screaming at him "NO DQ! NO COUNTOUT! DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT!"] BW: I think that makes it official, Gordo. Even Michael Meekly wouldn't be dumb enough to call for a DQ in this one. They'll tear his head clean off his shoulders. GM: AWA Senior Official Michael Meekly will do whatever he needs to do, Bucky. [The Bishops pull back to their corner, looking fit to be tied as Melissa continues her introductions.] MC: And their opponents... [The opening strands of Deep Purple's "Knocking At Your Back Door" kick in, the chords seemingly building anticipation for what is to come. And once the chords reach their crescendo and the drums kick in, that's when Rough N Ready emerges from the entranceway.] MC: From Albuquerque, New Mexico... weighing in at 615 pounds... accompanied by Sarah Sharpe... Dave Cooper... Eric Matthew Somers... ROUGH! N! REAAAAADY! [Dave Cooper wears black wrestling trunks, matching kneepads and white wrestling boots, and also wears a black T-shirt that says "Rough N Ready" in white lettering. Eric Matthew Somers wears a black singlet and white wrestling boots. Standing in between them is their manager, Sarah Sharpe, dressed in black pants and matching jacket and a white T-shirt. The trio wastes no time in heading straight for the ring in a beeline. Cooper and Somers are all business, Somers repeatedly pointing at the ring at the three men waiting for them. As they reach the ring, Sarah Sharpe stays outside as Somers and Cooper roll under the ropes into the ring... ...and get immediately attacked by Cletus Lee and Duane Henry as Cousin Bo drops off the apron to the floor!] GM: Here we go! Here we go! "DING! DING! DING!" GM: We've got a fight on our hands in this one! [Duane Henry Bishop wastes no time in throttling Eric Matthew Somers back against the buckles, swinging wildly with both arms, raining them down all over the big man from Rough N Ready. In the opposite corner, Cletus Lee is taking hooking blows to the body from veteran Dave Cooper.] GM: All four men are inside the ring... Michael Meekly's trying to get people outside the ring but I don't know if he can do anything about it, Bucky. BW: He can't! It's fantastic! There's no way for him to get two men in and two men out unless they want to do it on their own! GM: Cooper's working over the big man in one corner... and shockingly, Duane Henry's doing the same in the other! BW: Why is it shocking? If Cooper can corner Cletus Lee, Duane Henry can certainly do the same to Eric Matthew Som- [A big clubbing forearm to the back of the neck knocks Duane Henry down to his knees where a punt kick to the ribs rolls him out to the middle of the ring.] GM: You were saying? BW: Shaddup, Myers. [Shaking his head to clear the cobwebs from the early assault, Somers drags Duane Henry off the mat by the hair... ...and HURLS him over the top rope to the floor!] GM: OHHHHH! Eric Matthew Somers is wasting no time in showing the entire world exactly what he was talking about! He's unleashing a dark side here tonight and- BW: He's going out after him! [The big man steps out to the apron before dropping down to the floor where a recovering Duane Henry is waiting for him, throwing a right hand into the throat area, causing Somers to stagger away clutching his windpipe. Grabbing Somers by the back of the head, Duane Henry SLAMS his face into the ring apron, knocking Somers down to a knee on the floor.] GM: Ohhh! Facefirst to the apron! [With Somers dazed, Duane Henry climbs up on the apron. He backs all the way to the ringpost before charging the length of the apron, throwing his body off in a somersault tackle that knocks Somers off his feet and down to the floor!] GM: OHHHHH! Big dive off the apron by Duane Henry! [Duane Henry shakes his head as he gets to his feet, delivering a few hard stomps to the body before rolling under the ropes into the ring... ...and charges across the ring, throwing both knees into the back of Dave Cooper, breaking up the veteran's assault on Cletus Lee who promptly hooks Cooper's arms, delivering crushing headbutt after headbutt after headbutt.] GM: Trapped headbutts by Cletus Lee! Duane Henry gave him the opportunity he needed to take the edge. BW: And if I was managing these wild rednecks... the Redneck Wrecking Crew... then I'd go with this exact strategy. You take out Eric Matthew Somers, you isolate Dave Cooper, and you beat that old man until he coughs up his Social Security checks! GM: Would you stop? [Cletus Lee throws Cooper backwards out of the corner to Duane Henry who spins him around, turning him into the ropes where he throws him off with a whip.] GM: Off the ropes... [As Cooper rebounds, Cletus Lee and Duane Henry wind up and knock the veteran flat with a double chop!] GM: Good grief! BW: That'll crack a sternum right there, daddy! Getting hit by the Bishops is like getting hit by a bus! GM: I don't know about that but they're definitely some hard hitters. [At a shout from Cousin Bo, Duane Henry races to the ropes as Cletus Lee catches him on the rebound, tossing him over in a back body drop that sends Duane Henry crashing down across the prone Dave Cooper!] GM: Backdrop! He backdrops Duane Henry on top of Cooper! [Stunned from using his own body as a battering ram, Duane Henry rolls over into a lateral press.] GM: We've got one! We've got two! But that's it. Dave Cooper's not going down in this one without a fight. There's too much on the line, Bucky! BW: The third point and a shot at the gold! The #2 seed in the Stampede Cup! Not to mention the bragging rights to say you bested the other team! There's a ton on the line here tonight, Gordo. GM: Wait a second! Here comes Eric Matthew Somers! [Somers climbs up on the apron, looking to get into the ring to help his partner... ...but a rushing shoulderblock from Cletus Lee Bishop sends Somers sprawling off the apron, crashing down to the floor once again!] GM: OHHHHH! [The camera cuts to outside the ring where the massive man is sprawled out on the thin-padding, Sarah Sharpe rushing to his side to try and get him back to his feet. Several feet away, Cousin Bo circles the ring, shouting in the direction of Sarah Sharpe something about her "being on her knees."] GM: I don't think I care to repeat what he just said, fans. What a disgusting human being that man is. BW: He's just keepin' it real, yo. [Back inside the ring, Duane Henry hauls Cooper off the mat, shoving him back into the corner where he promptly wraps his hands around the veteran's throat.] GM: Choke! He's choking Cooper! [The crowd jeers and the referee counts as a rabid Duane Henry tries to strangle the life out of Dave Cooper. Pulling Cooper out of the corner, Duane Henry snapmares him down to the mat and dashes to the ropes that Cooper is facing.] GM: Duane Henry off the ropes... here he comes... [And drops into a baseball slide, connecting with a smacking clothesline across the throat of Cooper.] GM: Ohh! What a unique offensive maneuver that was! [With Cooper laid out from the sliding clothesline, Cletus Lee leaves his feet with a thunderous legdrop across the same throat that just ate the clothesline!] GM: LEGDROP! And now it's Cletus Lee going for a cover... [The referee orders Duane Henry to back away as he drops down to count.] GM: One! Two! Cooper fires up a shoulder again and- "OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" [The crowd ERUPTS as Duane Henry Bishop charges across the ring, throwing himself through the ropes in a baseball slide dropkick that sends Somers falling back into the steel barricade!] GM: What a shot that- wait a second! [With Somers dazed, Cousin Bo slides up... ...and POPS Somers with a right hand of his own! The crowd jeers as a smirking Cousin Bo beats a quick retreat, Sarah Sharpe racing to her man's side.] GM: Come on, referee! BW: Not so fast, Gordo. There MUST be a winner! GM: But at what cost? [Cletus Lee drags Cooper off the mat, hooking him in a side waistlock before hoisting the veteran in the air... ...and dumping him down in a back suplex!] GM: Ohh! Right down on the back of the head and neck... wait a- OHHH MY! [The crowd echoes Gordon's cry as Cletus Lee hoists Duane Henry up in a press slam, dropping him down across Dave Cooper's heavy-breathing chest!] GM: That might do it right there! There's one! There's two! [But the veteran fires his shoulder off the mat at the count of two... a little bit slower this time though.] GM: Dave Cooper is out at two again but he's gotta be growing weary taking doubleteam after doubleteam from the Bishop Boys. He needs his partner in there... he needs Eric Matthew Somers inside that ring with him! BW: Or maybe the Bishops'll take Cooper out to his partner! [Duane Henry seems to be doing exactly that as he hauls Cooper off the mat, throwing him through the ropes to the floor where he climbs out after him.] GM: Uh oh - Duane Henry sends Cooper to the floor and now they're both there, Bucky. BW: This is bad news for the old man. GM: How do you know that? [Duane Henry leans over, grabbing the thin padding out on the floor.] GM: Wait a second! He's pulling back the padding! Duane Henry Bishop is pulling back that padding on the floor! [With the padding leaning against the barricade, Duane Henry grabs Cooper, pulling him into a front facelock.] GM: Whoa! Whoa! Somebody stop this! BW: He's gonna put Cooper out like he did all those months ago! He's going for the gourdbuster on the floor that put Dave Cooper on the shelf for weeks! GM: Duane Henry's got him hooked! He's gonna do exactly that and- [The crowd cheers as Eric Matthew Somers staggers around the corner, BLASTING Duane Henry on the back of the head with a double axehandle that breaks up the move... ...which brings Cletus Lee Bishop over the ropes, standing on the apron looking to help...] GM: Cletus Lee is coming out here as well and- [Seizing the moment, Somers reaches up and hooks the front of Cletus Lee's tights... ...and YANKS him off the apron, sending him crashing chestfirst to the steel barricade!] GM: OHHHHHH! Chestfirst to the steel! BW: But you notice... not even THAT took Cletus Lee off his feet! [Out on the floor, Eric Matthew Somers snatches Duane Henry up by the hair, hoisting him up in a gorilla press... ...and HURLS him at Cletus Lee, causing Duane Henry to fall down to the floor!] GM: Good grief! [Inside the ring, the referee is shouting at both teams to get under control and back inside the squared circle as Somers winds up and POPS Cletus Lee across the chest with a forearm smash. Somers winds up again and delivers another one, trying to knock Cletus Lee off his feet... ...and then smashes home a double axehandle blow to the forehead, giving a set of glassy eyes to the big redneck!] GM: Come on, Eric! Put him down! BW: You're the most biased announcer this sport has ever seen, Gordon Myers! Try to be impartial out here! Try to be a professional! GM: Another shot by Somers! And another! And anoth- [With Somers' arms drawn back for another hammer blow, Cousin Bo races into the fray, leaping onto the back of Eric Matthew Somers, preventing another blow from falling... ...and a LEAPING European uppercut from Duane Henry catches Somers under the chin, knocking him back from Cletus Lee.] GM: Duane Henry is pounding on Somers... and so is Cousin Bo! BW: This is great! Cousin Bo's been waiting MONTHS to get his hands on these two old fossils! GM: This isn't right... this isn't- [The crowd ROARS as Dave Cooper grabs Cousin Bo and throws him down to the floor before pasting Duane Henry with a right hook that sends him falling back. A fired-up Cooper grabs Duane Henry by the hair, hurling him back under the ropes inside the ring.] GM: Cooper's heading back inside the squared circle. You can't win the match out on the floor so this has gotta be considered a smart move by the veteran. [Cooper climbs up on the apron, trying to get back into the ring... ...but Cousin Bo grabs his attention by shouting in his direction. The momentary distraction is all it takes for Duane Henry to rake the eyes of Cooper, blinding the veteran before hiptossing him over the ropes into the ring.] GM: Duane Henry brings Cooper over the ropes... the veteran is temporarily blinded and Duane Henry's trying to take advantage of that. Right hand! Right hand! Right hand! [Grabbing Cooper by the head, Duane Henry slams the back of his skull over and over into the canvas before applying a lateral press.] GM: ONE!! TWO!! NO!! [Cooper again fires a shoulder up... each time getting closer and closer to a three count. Duane Henry drives a few stomps to the chest before leaping up in a kneedrop!] GM: Dave Cooper has taken an absolute pounding in this match so far. They've done an excellent job of isolating him whenever possible, Bucky. BW: Absolutely. GM: With Cooper down, Duane Henry's heading to the corner... hopping up to the middle rope now... [Leaping from his perch, Duane Henry tucks his legs, attempting a senton splash... ...where Cooper tucks his legs himself, causing Duane Henry to land squarely on Cooper's knees!] GM: OHHHHH! WHAT A COUNTER! [With Duane Henry clutching his spine and Cooper still trying to get back to his feet, we cut to the floor where Eric Matthew Somers has Cletus Lee pushed up against the ringpost, repeatedly driving shouiders into his gut which smashes the big Bishop's spine into the ringpost.] GM: Look at that! Innovative offense by the big man from Rough N Ready! [Grabbing Cletus Lee by the head, Somers hauls him away from the ringpost near the timekeeper's table where Melissa Cannon and Dr. Ponavitch get the heck out of town... ...just before Somers smashes Cletus Lee's head into the wooden table!] GM: Ohhh! Cletus Lee's face meets the table! [A nervous-looking Cousin Bo stands a few feet away, shouting at Cletus Lee while Sarah Sharpe does the same from the other side of the ring, trying to encourage her men.] GM: Cletus Lee is staggered... Somers props him up... [And UNCORKS a wild, swinging lariat that Cletus Lee somehow manages to avoid, ducking under the blow... ...and delivering a clothesline of his own to the back of Somers' head, knocking him over the railing and into the crowd!] GM: Good grief! What a shot! [With Somers in the crowd, Cletus Lee slings a leg over the railing, climbing into the ringside area where the fans are absolutely roaring at the fight being brought to them. The bigger Bishop Boy throws a few kicks to the ribs of Somers while the Rough N Ready member lays spread out on the floor...] GM: Wait a second... what is he- [A snarl from Cletus Lee gets a ringside fan out of their seat - a steel chair that Bishop quickly picks up.] GM: He's got a chair! He's got a chair! BW: It's totally legal in this one! [Winding up with that steel chair, Cletus Lee prepares to DRILL Somers over the skull with it as the big man pushes off the floor, taking a knee... ...and takes a HUUUUUUGE swing at Somers with it that the big man somehow avoids, causing Cletus Lee to slam the metal chair down on the steel barricade, sending a jolt through his arms and the rest of his body!] GM: HE MISSED! HE MISSED! [We cut back inside the ring where Cooper has Duane Henry in the corner, having mounted the middle rope where he's raining down punches as the crowd counts along.] GM: A barrage of right hands by Dave Cooper... hops down off the midbuckle... [Grabbing Duane Henry by the arm, he fires him across the ring to the opposite corner where he smashes hard spinefirst to the buckles, staggering out... ...into the waiting arms of Dave Cooper who hoists Duane Henry off the mat, pivoting, and DRIVING Duane Henry into the canvas with a thunderous spinebuster slam!] GM: SPINEBUSTER! SPINEBUSTER! [With the crowd roaring, Dave Cooper crosses the legs of Duane Henry Bishop, flipping him onto his stomach in a Texas Cloverleaf!] GM: Cloverleaf! Cooper hooks the Cloverleaf! This could be it! [A frantic Cousin Bo is shouting and screaming at Duane Henry to fight the hold... then shouting and screaming at Cletus Lee to get inside the ring.] BW: Cletus Lee is comin'! [The larger Bishop brother quickly leaves the crowd, climbing over the railing and moving towards the ring... ...and he ain't comin' alone.] GM: Cletus Lee's got the chair! He's got that steel chair! [Sliding into the ring behind Dave Cooper, steel chair in hand, Cletus Lee winds waaaaaaaay back...] GM: NO! NO! NOOOOOO! "WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!" [The THUNDEROUS chairshot connects with the back of Cooper's skull, breaking the Cloverleaf and knocking Dave Cooper flat on his face on the canvas.] GM: Good God, Bucky Wilde! A sickening, vile shot with that steel chair puts Dave Cooper flat on his face! He might have busted his skull open... he might have given him a concussion... who knows? [Out on the floor, Cousin Bo is shouting "COVER HIM!" repeatedly. Cletus Lee drops to his knees, flipping Cooper to his back before applying a sloppy lateral press.] GM: ONE!!! TWO!!! THRE- [BIG CHEER!] GM: SOMERS PULLS CLETUS LEE OUT OF THE RING!! [The crowd EXPLODES as Cletus Lee and Eric Matthew Somers THROW DOWN on the floor once more, each man throwing heavy right hands as hard as they can, trying to topple their opponents.] GM: We've got a fight on the floor but Dave Cooper is- [A wincing Duane Henry rolls under the ropes to the floor, dropping to his knees... ...where he BURIES a right hand into the Somers family jewels!] GM: Ohhh! Cheapshot! Low blow by Duane Henry! [The blow brings Somers down to a knee where Duane Henry quickly hooks a front facelock and executes a short DDT on the barely-padded concrete floor!] GM: Good grief! [With Somers down and Cousin Bo shouting instructions, both members of the Bishops get back inside the squared circle where a barely moving Dave Cooper is back on his stomach, crawling towards the corner. The two Bishops exchange a high five before they move to cut off Cooper's crawl. The maniacal Duane Henry blocks Cooper's path, the veteran wrapping his hands around the legs of Duane Henry, trying to get past him.] GM: Cletus Lee yanks Cooper up by the back of the trunks, holding his arms now for Duane Henry... ohhh! Hard shot to the jaw! The Bishops have all the momentum on their side right now, Bucky. BW: You sound surprised, Gordo. I told you the Bishops had this one wrapped up. GM: Cletus Lee spins Cooper around... [Duane Henry grabs the now-dented chair, throwing it down on the canvas as he gestures to Cletus Lee who fires Cooper into the ropes with an Irish whip.] GM: Fires Cooper to the ropes... LIFTS! [Cletus Lee hoists him up in a flapjack, starting to fall backwards as Duane Henry hooks a front facelock... ...and DRIVES Cooper's skull into the canvas!] GM: DDT! DDT! BW: What happened to the chair?! [The only thing saving Dave Cooper from a concussion at this point is Sarah Sharpe, having reached into the ring to pull the steel chair out of the ring just before the DDT landed. She now grips the chair against her chest... ...and then holds it in her hands in a threatening fashion as both Duane Henry and Cousin Bo start towards her! Big cheer!] GM: Oh yeah! You want some now, Cousin Bo?! You want to take her on when she's got a chair in her hands?! [Cousin Bo looks to be thinking twice about it, holding up... ...and then waving Duane Henry back into the ring, screaming "FINISH IT!"] GM: Cousin Bo is calling off Duane Henry but he just told him to finish Dave Cooper! BW: You honestly think Dave Cooper's not already finished? GM: Cousin Bo just slid another chair into the ring! [With Cooper barely moving, Duane Henry takes the steel chair and throws it down on the chest of the veteran. Cletus Lee has moved to the corner, now stepping up to sit down on the top turnbuckle with his feet on the middle rope.] GM: What in the world? [Nodding his head, Duane Henry exits the ring, slowly climbing the turnbuckles where Cletus Lee is seated. The crowd starts to buzz with anticipation, wondering just what in the world is coming up next.] GM: Wait one second! What in the- WHERE IS HE GOING?! [The buzz grows louder as Duane Henry steps up to the top rope, looking out over the ring... ...and with a nod of his head, he steps up with one foot on the shoulder of his mammoth brother!] GM: OH MY GOD!! OH MY GOD!! DUANE HENRY BISHOP IS STANDING ON THE SHOULDERS OF HIS BROTHER WHO IS SITTING ON THE TOP ROPE! BW: He's gotta be ten feet in the air, Gordo! He's gotta be! GM: I think you're right! But what in the world is he going to- [With the crowd whipped into a frenzy, Duane Henry Bishop leaps from his perch, tucking into a front somersault, flipping through the air in a breathtaking 450 splash... ...that hits nothing... NOTHING... but the abandoned steel chair that Dave Cooper left behind when he rolled out of the way!] GM: HE HITS THE STEEL! DUANE HENRY HITS THE STEEL! [The crowd roars at the impact as Duane Henry rolls aside clutching his ribcage, screaming in agony... ...and then gets louder as a fired-up Cletus Lee stands tall.] GM: Cletus Lee's on the middle rope! He's standing tall! He's- [The big man hurls himself from the middle rope with his mammoth skull aimed squarely at Dave Cooper... ...who TUGS the chair over his body, causing Cletus Lee's skull to CRUSH the steel!] GM: OHHHHHHHHH! [The crowd EXPLODES as Cletus Lee rolls to the side, hands on his head from hitting the steel. Outside the ring, Cousin Bo has absolutely LOST HIS MIND!] GM: Dave Cooper showing those veteran ringsmarts! He outsmarted both members of the Bishops right there! BW: Let's not get too excited. The man already took a shot to the head with that chair and I gotta think it's naptime for him soon, Gordo! GM: Cooper rolls to the floor... what's he- [There's a big roar as Cooper reaches under the ropes, dragging Duane Henry out to the floor. He spins Duane Henry around so that Cooper is staring directly at Cousin Bo as he pulls the Bishop into a front facelock...] GM: Oh my stars... is he going to- he's standing on the exposed concrete floor! BW: No! GM: He's got Duane Henry hooked! He's gonna- [The crowd EXPLODES as Cooper hoists Duane Henry into the air, holding him horizontal for a moment... ...and then DRIVES him down on the exposed concrete floor with the gourdbuster!] GM: GOURDBUSTER! GOURDBUSTER! GOURDBUSTER ON THE FLOOR! [The roar of the crowd is absolutely deafening as Dave Cooper stays kneeling on the concrete, staring dead in the eyes of a stunned Cousin Bo... ...and slowly dragging his thumb across his throat.] GM: Dave Cooper's on a mission! All the pain... all the suffering... everything that he and Eric and Sarah have been through for the past few months! Dave Cooper says it ends tonight! [Getting back to his feet, Cooper hauls the limp form of Duane Henry off the floor, firing him under the ropes.] GM: Duane Henry's in the ring... Cooper's in as well... [Walking across the ring, Cooper leans over to pick up Duane Henry for the finishing blow... ...when suddenly Cletus Lee storms forward, leaping high with one leg lifted, and SNAPS the leg down across the back of the neck!] GM: AXE KICK! AXE KICK! [Cletus Lee promptly flips Cooper to his back, throwing himself over him in a lateral press.] GM: ONE!! TWO!!! THRE- [HUUUUUUGE CHEER!] GM: SOMERS! ERIC MATTHEW SOMERS IS IN AND HE MAKES THE SAVE! [Having just barely made a diving save, a fired-up but dazed Somers hauls Cletus Lee up to his feet. He drills him with a right hand that staggers Cletus Lee but does not bring him down.] GM: Come on, Eric! Pour it on! [Another right hand connects... and another... and another... and another... and another... ...all of which stagger but do not floor the big man!] GM: What in the world does it take, Bucky? What do you need to do to bring this man down to the mat? [Somers steps forward, spreading both arms... ...and SMASHING them together on the skull in a bellringer!] GM: Ohhh! That'll make you dizzy! BW: But Cletus Lee won't fall! [Shaking his head, Somers throws another double axehandle blow... and another... and another... and another... ...before grabbing Cletus Lee by the arm, firing him to the corner where he charges in with a thunderous clothesline in the buckles!] GM: SOMERS CRUNCHES HIM IN THE CORNER! [Cletus Lee hooks both arms over the top rope, keeping himself on his feet... ...which causes Somers to charge back in, SMASHING Cletus Lee under the jaw with a running big boot!] GM: OHHHHHHH! BW: BUT HE STILL WON'T FALL! GM: Somers is throwing everything he's got at him but he can't bring him down! [An irate Somers yanks Cletus Lee out of the corner, spinning him around facing the buckles... ...and this time, it's the massive form of Eric Matthew Somers that steps up to the middle rope!] GM: Wait a second! 6'9! 350 pounds! The middle rope! [And with a giant leap, Somers throws his body into the air, sailing through the sky... ...and CONNECTING with a massive flying shoulderblock that finally... FINALLLY... knocks Cletus Lee Bishop off his feet and down to the canvas!] GM: OH YEAH!! OH YEAH!! HE FLOORED CLETUS LEE BISHOP! [Dave Cooper gets to his feet just in time to see the big Bishop hit the canvas and with a big pump of his fist, he celebrates his partner's big move... ...and then grabs the dented steel chair off the canvas, holding it high to a big cheer from the crowd.] GM: Cooper's got the chair... and spikes it down to the mat... [A weary Eric Matthew Somers regains his feet, moving to his partner's side as Cooper backs to the turnbuckles, hopping up to the midbuckle as Somers drags a limp Duane Henry Bishop off the canvas, hooking him around the head and arm.] GM: He's got him hooked! He's got Duane Henry set! [With a big lift, Duane Henry gets hoisted as high as Eric Matthew Somers can manage... ...and gets DRIVEN down onto the steel chair as hard as he can manage as well!] GM: THUNDEROUS SLAM!! [As Duane Henry lies motionless on the steel chair, Dave Cooper leaps from his perch... ...and SMASHES his knee down across the skull of Duane Henry Bishop, driving his head into the chair one more time!] GM: ROUGH HOUSING! [Cooper collapses into a cover, reaching back to hook both legs as Eric Matthew Somers stands guard.] GM: ONE!!! TWO!!! THREEEEEEEE!!!! "DING! DING! DING!" [The crowd EXPLODES at the bell, collectively leaping to their feet as Dave Cooper gets yanked up by Eric Matthew Somers, the two partners falling into a big embrace in the middle of the ring as their two longtime enemies lay defeated before them.] MC: Your winners of the match... ROUGH! N! REAAAAAAAADYYYYYYY!! [The crowd somehow gets louder for the announcement and for the sight of Sarah Sharpe joining her men in the ring, celebrating their triumph as a stunned Cousin Bo stands outside the ring, jaw dropped in shock as he looks on at what just happened.] GM: Cousin Bo can't believe it but it happened! Rough N Ready have defeated The Bishop Boys here at SuperClash! What a battle! What a fight! What a war! Dave Cooper and Eric Matthew Somers have done it and have earned that elusive third point so they can challenge for the National Tag Team Titles! They have earned the #2 seed in the Stampede Cup Tournament! These fans are going nuts and who can blame them? What a night! [And with the celebration continuing inside the ring, we fade to black. ...and then back up. It's a shot of a few kids standing outside of a classroom. A fourth kid walks up to them, carrying his backpack over his shoulder.] 4th Kid: Hey guys... wait til you see what I got from AWAShop.com! [He whips open the backpack and produces... ...a JUAN VASQUEZ BOBBLEHEAD!] "Whoa!" "Wow!" "That rocks!" "I want one... now!" [The 4th kid looks pleased with himself... ...until a fifth kid walks up.] 5th Kid: Juan Vasquez, huh? That's not bad... but check this out! [The 5th kid opens his backpack and reveals... ...a CITY JACK BOBBLEHEAD!] "WHOA!" "WOWER!" "THAT ROCKS MORE!" "I WANT ONE... NOW!" [The fifth kid looks proud as the fourth kid looks sad at his Vasquez bobblehead and we fade to black... ...and then fade back up to the backstage area, where Jason Dane is struggling to catch up to The Bishop Boys, who appear to be leaving the building.] JD: WAIT! Mr. Allan, where are you going?! [All three turn around to look at the approaching Dane. Cletus Lee has a visible red mark on his skull from the missed flying headbutt while Duane Henry is being supported by his brother's massive arm.] CB: What the hell are you talking about? We're done here! JD: No, you can't go anywhere. CB: WHY NOT?! JD: Don't you remember? The Bishop Boys are to be handcuffed to one of the ringposts in the main event! [Bo rolls his eyes.] CB: Aw hell, that's right, Vasquez's little fetish demands. [Cletus Lee and Duane Henry look at each other uneasily. Bo turns to look at his cousins apologetically and sighs.] CB: Guys, I'm really sorry. This is out of my hands. That idiot Vasquez is power hungry. Just... [Bo looks around, visibly agitated as a team of rather large security guards arrive.] CB: ...just do what these guys tell you to do, and everything will be fine. [The Bishop Boys look disgusted as security forces them back towards the locker room. Jason turns around to catch Bo about to leave again.] JD: Hey! Where are you going? You have to... CB: _I_ don't have to do a thing, Dane. Read the contract. It specifically states that The Bishop Boys have to be handcuffed. JD: Yes, I know. CB: And my last name is what again? [Bo looks on expectantly as Jason figures out where he's going with this.] JD: Allan! Of course! CB: Correct. So, if you have no further questions, I'd really like to go now. I don't want any part of this blatant mockery of the rules. [Jason shakes his head, so Bo straightens out his suit and walks right out the door in the back of the arena.] JD: Guys, I don't know what to say! Cousin Bo has just left the building! [Jason looks on in astonishment as we cut back to another part of the building where Mark Stegglet is standing alongside two of the most despised men in all of the AWA, ÒLadykillerÓ Calisto Dufresne and ÒSubzeroÓ Adrian Freeman.] MS: Fans, I've been joined here in the locker room area by the two men who will challenge for the National Tag Team Titles later tonight - Calisto Dufresne... [Dufresne looks completely disinterested in Mark Stegglet.] MS: And Adrian Freeman. [Who looks a little less annoyed.] MS: Guys, to what do we owe the, uhhÉ pleasure? AF: Don't pretend you're happy to see us, Stegglet. Callisto and I are doing some charitable work... giving back to our community, as it were. In the true spirit of Thanksgiving. MS: I think that's more Christmas. AF: Who really cares? [Dufresne finally appears to notice Mark Stegglet and stares intently (we think) at him through the pair of glasses.] MS: Calisto, is it a little too bright in here for you? CD: Are you crazy, Stegglet? Calisto Dufresne is the perfect specimen of a man. My eyesight is 20/2. For reference, Steggers, thatÕs the same eyesight as a hawk. The perfect predator. Which is fitting, considering the skills that Adrian and I bring to the table. But I digress. I actually came here to bring these glassesÉ [Dufresne pulls the ridiculous glasses off of his face.] CD: Éas a gift to my good friend City Jack. A little birdie told me that oleÕ City Hack is suffering from a bit of a vision issue. What a _terrible_ turn of events! [Heel pop.] MS: HeÕs suffering from a vision issue that he received at the hands of you two!! AF: It's an occupational hazard, Mark. If it weren't for us, someone else would have done it. If you're going to put two people in the ring and tell them to fight, someone can and sometimes does get hurt, and it doesn't make the other guy "evil". [Dufresne nods in agreement.] CD: IÕm not here to mince words, Steggers. The fact of the matter is, IÕm tired of City Jack. HeÕs been chasing me around for too long now and this infatuation with me has got to stop! WeÕve been going at this for years and years and in all this time, _nobody_ has ever pinned these broad, statuesque shoulders to the mat. And that certainly isnÕt going to start at SuperClash, the biggest event of the year. MS: DonÕt either of you think that youÕve stuck your hand in the hornetÕs nest one too many times? AF: It's interesting that you choose that analogy, because it sums up exactly what City Jack and Tin Can Rust are to us... insects. And we're not the ones tempting fate here. Callisto and I are the very image of health. On the other hand, not only are Kentucky's Pride as banged up as all the old clunkers sitting in the parking lot right now, but they're deteriorating mentally as well. They're even starting to turn on each other. CD: Adrian, as usual, is right on the money. You see, Stegglet, part of being the perfect wrestling specimen is being an expert tactician. Know your opponentÕs next move before he even does. And we can see the cracks forming between Rust and City Hack. We can see what the strain of our repeated victories over them has done to their relationship. We have broken their spirits. And a little while from now, weÕll break much more than that. [A confident smirk creeps over DufresneÕs face.] MS: Do you have any last words for KentuckyÕs Pride before this showdown happens at SuperClash? AF: I think I've said more than enough. The time for words is over. Callisto? CD: Just this, Stegglet: I pledge to our throngs of adoring fans all around the world that Adrian and I will do what is necessary to bring the gold home with us tonight. You fans deserve champions you can be proud of. And weÕre going to give you that. And to City Jack, my old friendÉ donÕt worry about us going after that injured eye of yours. We would never stoop so low. After allÉ [A nod. A wink. And a smile.] CD: ÉWe want you to be able to watch us walk off with your belts. [Dufresne and Freeman walk away from a disgusted Mark Stegglet.] MS: Back to you, Jason. [We fade back to another part of the building where Jason Dane is standing alongside the mass of humanity known as Tumaffi. Tumaffi, wearing a dark orange robe with green and silver florals, nods at the question behind his shaggy black mane of hair and beard.] JD: Thanks, Mark. Tumaffi, the question I have to answer for all these fans - are you fully prepared to face Gary Bright? [Tumaffi takes a deep breath and slowly exhales.] Tumaffi: Jason Dane, no preparation is required for Tumaffi to face such an unworthy adversary. Gary Bright is an automaton, doing the will of his masters! He possesses no will of his own, and therefore is no threat to the great Tumaffi. But allow me to explain in detail, Gary Bright, about what this night is. Tonight is the night for giving thanks. It is neither about turkey nor stuffing; it is neither about glory or victory. It is about simple gratitude, whether you believe in a higher power or merely the whims of blind chance. What do you have, Gary Bright, to be grateful for? Tonight, the man to whom you have entrusted your future has led you to face a foe far beyond you. You must enter combat with the mighty Tumaffi, who will neither be kind nor merciful. Tumaffi has come to eliminate you from my path, Gary Bright, that the National Title may return to the possession of those who are worthy of the honor. For this you should not be thankful, Gary Bright. Tonight, you will surely be removed from the ring under power that is not your own. Perhaps you may be able to exit with merely a helping shoulder. Perhaps you will require a stretcher. Perhaps you will require a rather large sponge. Tumaffi cares little; you have brought your fate upon yourself. After this night, you will have many medical expenses. Tumaffi finds it unlikely that the man who has pushed you in front of the proverbial bus will have any interest in paying for those expenses. You are a disposable man, and those in whom you trust will surely betray you once you are of no use to them. For this you should not be thankful, Gary Bright. Tonight, when many families are gathering to give thanks and to share their lives with one another, you will be alone. Alone in a white, antiseptic room, wondering where the men you have leaned on for support are. They will either be taking the title and running like thieves in the night, or they will be consumed by their own petty loss. You will have no comfort in your pain, and your only companion will be the slow beeping of a soulless machine. For this you should not be thankful, Gary Bright. So what do you have to be thankful for? Simply this: suffering produces character. You are welcome, Gary Bright. [Tumaffi walks towards the entrance curtain.] JD: Guys, let's go back to the ring for this big, big showdown! [We fade to the ring where Melissa Cannon is standing... ...but she's not alone. "Agent To The Stars" Ben Waterson is already in the ring, steel briefcase in hand, standing alongside the "Gold Bomber" Gary Bright. But that's not the biggest news. Bright is in street clothes with his arm in a sling.] GM: Thanks, Jason... what in the world is going on out here, Bucky? BW: Earlier tonight, I talked to Ben and he told me this was going down. But he swore me to secrecy, daddy. GM: Mr. Waterson has the mic... let's see what's going on here... [Waterson, having snatched the mic from Melissa Cannon, is walking around the ring.] ATTSBW: It is a sad night for the American Wrestling Alliance. [Waterson soaks up some boos for just speaking.] ATTSBW: It is a sad night because for weeks and weeks now, the entire AWA has been looking forward to this night... looking forward to the night where the... "mighty Tumaffi"... [Yeah, finger quotes.] ATTSBW: ...was revealed to be nothing more than an overhyped sloth by the Gold Bomber here. Gary Bright was going to beat Tumaffi down. Gary Bright was going to beat Tumaffi up. Gary Bright was going to beat Tumaffi all around the building. And in the end, Gary Bright was going to hoist that fat piece of trash in the air, slam him down through the mat, and plant his foot in his flabby chest for a one... two... three. [Waterson nods as Bright looks on.] ATTSBW: It is a sad night for the AWA because tonight, that just won't happen. [Cheers!] ATTSBW: Earlier this week, the Bomber was pressing enormous amounts of weight in preparation for this match... and suffered an arm injury. He wanted to fight... he did! But I wouldn't let him. I am not willing to risk his future in this business over some worthless garbage like Tumaffi. So, I called the Committee... I informed them of the issue. They told me the Bomber would need to forfeit. [Big cheer! Waterson and Bright look irritated.] ATTSBW: I didn't have a choice. I fought and fought but they had a contract. So, tonight... Tumaffi will have a victory over Gary Bright marked in the record books. [Big cheer again!] ATTSBW: But that's not all. I've got a little surprise for the... "mighty Tumaffi." [Yeah, more finger quotes.] ATTSBW: Tumaffi, get yourself out here to accept your win over the Bomber before we go any further. [And with that, a single deep bass drum beats... BOOM. Then again, a little louder. And again. With the sound of rain in the background, the drum beats resound throughout the arena, like the approaching footsteps of some terrible monster. Upon their climax, the crackling BOOM of a thunderbolt is heard over the PA.] GM: Ask and you shall receive, Ben Waterson! [Hollow-sounding drumbeats and reedy-toned woodwinds form an ominous tune (amongst the backdrop of the thunderstorm) over the PA, as the behemoth form of Tumaffi steps forth from the curtain a HUUUUGE roar from the crowd. The monstrous Samoan pays the fans little mind as he marches down the aisle. 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!] GM: The mighty Tumaffi is on his way down the aisle towards the ring... and I don't know at all what is going to happen here, fans. We know that Gary Bright is injured. We know he won't be competing in this match tonight. But Waterson says he's got a surprise for Tumaffi! BW: I know what it is. GM: Sure you do. BW: I do! GM: Then tell us. BW: Nah, I only spill scoops on The Call Of The Wilde. [Tumaffi slowly walks up the steps, seemingly on guard in case of a trick. He climbs through the ropes, glaring at Waterson and Bright from across the ring.] ATTSBW: Alright... let's get this over with... [Waterson hands the mic to Melissa Cannon.] MC: Ladies and gentlemen... due to injury, Gary Bright will be UNABLE to compete tonight. Therefore, the winner of this match... as a result of a forfeit... TUUUUUUUMAAAAAAFFI! [There's a moderate amount of cheers for Tumaffi's win but the crowd seems pretty disappointed to lose the much-hyped showdown with the Gold Bomber. Waterson snatches the mic away.] ATTSBW: Alright, alright... so... fine. You win. Happy? [A closeup on Tumaffi reveals he looks just about anything BUT happy.] ATTSBW: So, I told the Championship Committee that if we had to forfeit, they had to give me a chance to make it up... [Waterson smirks.] ATTSBW: To all these fans! I ripped open my phone book and I called everyone I knew... everyone who owed me a favor... everyone I've ever met in this business. I knew I could find someone but it had to be the right choice. It had to be someone who could beat you as badly as the Bomber was going to. And the Committee told me I had until bell time to announce it. [Waterson looks out at ringside.] ATTSBW: And to me, it looks like the timekeeper is getting antsy to ring that bell so at this time - let me show you how this is done, sister... [An annoyed Melissa exits the ring.] ATTSBW: Allow me to introduce to you... the man who will be facing Tumaffi tonight... the man who is going to not only steal the spotlight tonight but shatter the damn thing as well in his bare hands... he is the ONLY man in the AWA bigger than Tumaffi... On loan from the Matsui Corporation for one night only... MAMMOTH! MIZUSAWA! [Tomoyasu HoteiÕs ÒBattle Without Honor or HumanityÓ starts to play over the arena speakers.] GM: WHAT?! BW: Yes! What a coup! Mizusawa already beat the heck out of five guys earlier tonight and he's gonna beat up another few right now! [Louis Matsui emerges with a smirk from the entranceway. He is followed closely by the scowling seven-footer, MAMMOTH Mizusawa, dressed in a black singlet, black knee pads and a pair of black boots. Matsui points with his thumb over his shoulders at Mizusawa, who raises both his arms in the air. Both men start to make their way down the aisle.] GM: I can't believe this! MAMMOTH Mizusawa, like you said, already did battle tonight... with FIVE men in that huge elimination tag team match. How in the world can he possibly take on Tumaffi tonight as well? [Mizusawa steps up on the ring apron - glaring at Tumaffi for a moment. The mighty Samoan lets loose a bellow that clears the ring as he charges towards the giant who is still standing out on the apron.] GM: HERE WE GO! [Referee Marty Meekly calls for the bell as Mizusawa slings one leg over the top rope. As he swings the other one over, he throws it into the face of the oncoming Tumaffi and the fight is on.] GM: Good grief! What a shot! [Grabbing Tumaffi around the head, the seven footer delivers a hammering forearm blow to the back of the neck, knocking Tumaffi back against the buckles. The Samoan moves back out, looking to attack again... ...but the giant wraps his hands around Tumaffi's neck, winding up...] GM: Oh no! [And delivers a headbutt to the Samoan skull of Tumaffi... ...which predictably causes Mizusawa to stagger backwards, clutching his own skull. Seizing the moment, Tumaffi throws a big chop across the chest of Mizusawa, stumbling him backwards. He raises his knee into the gut of the giant, doubling him up.] GM: We've got a seven foot 420 pounder in there against a 6'6 405 pounder! Two titans... two monsters... two mammoth beasts colliding in the middle of the squared circle and this is one heck of a bonus match for our fans watching SuperClash! [Tumaffi bends the giant over, smashing an elbow down on the back of the neck. Another hard chop sends the giant stumbling back, falling against the buckles.] GM: This isn't the match Tumaffi was expecting but you can bet he'll take it! He doesn't back down from any challenge! BW: That may be true but he might want to back down from this one, daddy! Tumaffi has never... NEVER... faced anyone that's actually bigger than he is! [Grabbing Mizusawa by the wrist, Tumaffi powers him into an Irish whip that sends the giant across the ring and crashing into the corner. With the giant staggered, Tumaffi marches across the ring, ready to strike once more... ...and catches yet another thrown boot up in the jaw!] GM: Most guys can't even come close to kicking a 6'6 monster in the jaw but for Mizusawa, it's almost easy! BW: Tumaffi got rocked with that one too, Gordo. GM: He certainly did... it didn't floor him but- [The crowd roars as Tumaffi stumbles towards the corner and gets caught with a knife-edge chop from Mizusawa. The giant then reaches forward, hooking his hands around the throat of the Samoan.] GM: Double choke! He may be looking for the Tusk Crusher here! [Tumaffi responds with a clubbing blow across the neck that prevents any attempt at a lift. A second blow seems to loosen the grip held by Mizusawa and gains a few shouts into the ring from Matsui who is slapping the apron at ringside. The camera cuts outside the ring to show Waterson and Bright in a huddle.] GM: What are THEY still doing out here? They've got no business out there anymore, Bucky! BW: Waterson's a manager. GM: Not for Mizusawa! [Still trapped in the double choke, Tumaffi throws another clubbing forearm... and another, trying to break the grip.] GM: He's trying to battle out of this choke and- [A big cheer goes up as Tumaffi BLASTS Mizusawa with another headbutt, actually knocking the giant down to a knee as Tumaffi stumbles back into the ropes.] GM: We're just moments into this one and they both look like they've been through a war. [Moving off the ropes, Tumaffi delivers a big kick to the upper body of Mizusawa, trying to topple the big man.] GM: Trying to take the big man off his feet... [With Mizusawa still kneeling, Tumaffi winds up with both arms... ...and CHOPS down across the shoulders and neck with a thunderous double Mongolian chop!] GM: Good grief! What a blow to the neck! Tumaffi's trying to chop the giant down! [Grabbing him by the arm, Tumaffi yanks the giant to his feet.] GM: Irish whi- reversed! [Mizusawa reverses the whip attempt, sending Tumaffi crashing into the buckles and allowing Mizusawa to charge towards him...] GM: AVALANNNN- [But at the last moment, Tumaffi sidesteps the charge, causing Mizusawa to SLAM into the buckles with a sickening amount of impact.] GM: They MOVED the ring! Did you see that?! The impact of Mizusawa hitting the buckles actually MOVED the ring! [Mizusawa stumbles out of the corner, falling down to a knee where he rolls through the ropes and out to the floor.] GM: And I think the giant wants a breather! BW: He's already fought five men tonight! Of course he's tired! [But the giant ignores his manager trying to keep him outside the ring for a bit, quickly climbing back up on the apron... ...where he greets the incoming Tumaffi with a chop across the chest before stepping into the ring.] GM: Mizusawa's in and- ohhhhhhh! [The crowd buzzes as the giant dips down, attempting to hoist Tumaffi up in a bodyslam.] GM: He's trying to get him up! Trying to power Tumaffi up for a slam! [But Tumaffi's rain of forearms and elbows breaks up the slam attempt, sending Mizusawa stumbling back a couple of feet. The mighty Samoan hits the ropes behind him, charging forward... ...and getting caught with an enormous standing clothesline that knocks Tumaffi backwards, clinging to the ropes to stay on his feet.] GM: What a shot from the giant! [Winding up with both arms, Mizusawa slams a double axehandle down across the broad back of the Samoan, trying to knock him off his feet.] BW: Matsui just told him to do it again! [The giant obliges, slamming home another double axehandle, this one actually knocking Tumaffi down to a knee. Mizusawa steps back and lashes out with a boot to the face, knocking Tumaffi down to the mat.] GM: My stars in heaven - Tumaffi's been taken down by this monster! [With Tumaffi down, Mizusawa approaches, holding his arm high in the air... ...and pushing up, cocking the arm for an elbowdrop!] GM: ELLLLLBOOOO- OHHHHH! [The Samoan rolls out of the way, causing Mizusawa to smash down on the canvas.] GM: He missed the elbow! Tumaffi got out of the way just in time! [With a momentary breather, Tumaffi gets back to his feet, looking around at the roaring crowd... ...and lashes out with a thrust kick to the jaw of the seated Mizusawa!] GM: OHHHH! What a kick to the mush! [Now it's Tumaffi's turn to hit the ropes, slowly walking back, and leaping into the air...] GM: LEGDROP! [A thunderous "BOOM!" echoes through the building as the massive leg smashes down on the chest of Mizusawa.] GM: We've got a cover for one... for two... but that's all. [Rolling off of the giant, Tumaffi slowly gets to his feet, barking a few choice words at Waterson and Bright as he turns to pull Mizusawa off the mat... ...and catches a headbutt driven into his mammoth midsection.] GM: Ohh! Mizusawa caught him while he was getting up! [And immediately ducks down, trying for the bodyslam again.] GM: He's going for the slam! But Tumaffi's fighting it! [The Samoan throws blows all over the giant, forearms, elbows, chops, finally freeing himself as he bounces off the ropes... ...and gets hoisted up under the big arm of Mizusawa, DRIVEN into the mat with a thunderous side slam!] GM: OHHHHHHHHH! BW: Unbelievable! Did you SEE that, Gordon Myers?! Did you?! GM: Of course I did! What a slam! Mizusawa caught him coming in and DROVE him into the canvas... almost THROUGH the canvas by my estimation. [Mizusawa stays down on the mat, applying a lateral press.] GM: ONE!! TWO!! THRE- [The crowd roars as Tumaffi fires a shoulder off the canvas just before the three count comes down. Mizusawa shoots a glare at the referee while Louis Matsui REALLY lets the official have it verball as his giant gets back to his feet.] GM: He almost had him there, Bucky. That side slam was enormous and now the giant's dragging Tumaffi by the hair... just hauling him up to his feet... [Back to a standing position, Mizusawa grabs Tumaffi by the arm, hurling him into the corner with an Irish whip...] GM: Tumaffi hits the buckles and... uh oh... [Mizusawa barrels across the ring at a lumbering charge...] GM: MIZUSAWA CHARGES! [And Tumaffi turns to the side, LASHING out with a superkick style kick to the upper body of the giant!] GM: OHHHH! HE CAUGHT HIM COMING IN! [Grabbing the stunned Mizusawa under the arms, he spins him back into the corner... ...and LIGHTS him up with a thunderous chop across the chest!] GM: OHHH! What a chop! [Tumaffi pauses, nodding his head at the roaring crowd... ...and then UNCORKS another big chop across the chest to the cheers of the Dallas fans!] GM: He's gonna cave his chest in with those chops... [Grabbing the wrist of Mizusawa, Tumaffi fires him across the ring from corner to corner... ...and with his back in his own corner, Tumaffi lets loose a bellow and charges across the ring!] GM: AAAAAAAVAAAAAALAAAAAAANNNNCHE! [The crowd ERUPTS as all 405 pounds of Tumaffi squashes the giant against the buckles!] GM: GOOD GOD ALMIGHTY!! HE CAUGHT ALL OF THAT!! [Tumaffi steps back out of the corner, glaring at Mizusawa who is hanging onto the ropes to stay on his feet... ...and with a mighty bellow, he unleashes a fierce barrage on his victim! First, a pair of knife-edge chops across the chest that leave bright red welts in their wake. An overhead chop follows, cracking the giant over the skull. Grabbing Mizusawa by the back of the head, Tumaffi yanks his head back to expose the throat...] GM: What's he gonna do here? [A stiff-fingered thrust to the throat leaves the giant down on a knee, gasping for air. With the big man down a bit, Tumaffi SLAMS a knee up into the jaw, trying to knock him the rest of the way down to the mat. Reaching down, Tumaffi yanks the giant off the mat, shoving him back to the corner... ...and does a full 180 spin, CRACKING the giant in the side of the face with a spinning backfist!] GM: OHHHHHH! BW: Someone in the third row nearly caught Mizusawa's head! GM: Tumaffi drags him out of the corner... [Pushing the big man over, Tumaffi executes a knife-edge chop to the back of the head while bringing a kneelift up at the same time, smacking Mizusawa back to a staggered standing position.] GM: He's got the big man rocked! The giant is staggered! [With another loud bellow, Tumaffi UNLOADS a massive lariat across the throat of the giant, knocking him down to the mat where he IMMEDIATELY leaps into the air, dropping all 405 pounds down across the chest of the Japanese giant!] GM: POLYNESIAN BURIAL!! THAT'S IT!! [The referee drops down to count.] GM: ONE!!! TWO!!! THRE- [The crowd falls silent as the referee breaks the count, stunned at the sight of MAMMOTH Mizusawa's shoulder off the canvas.] GM: Did he... did he just kick out of the Polynesian Burial?! BW: He did! Mizusawa escapes the splash! He got 405 pounds dropped on his chest and he kicked out of it! GM: I don't... have you EVER seen that happen before, Bucky? BW: I don't know but Tumaffi looks stunned! [The usually focused Samoan does look quite surprised, staring at the official as Louis Matsui screams instructions from outside the ring. Tumaffi is slow to get up.] GM: Tumaffi's gotta be wondering what else he can do. BW: I'll tell you what he can do... drop the splash again! GM: Not a bad idea there, Gordo. [Tumaffi leans over, dragging Mizusawa up off the mat by the head... ...and ducks down, trying to position the giant up on his shoulders for a fireman's carry!] GM: Oh my stars! He's trying to get him up on his shoulders! BW: If he hits the Samoan Drop, this could be- [But Tumaffi can't hold the weight, allowing Mizusawa to slip off the broad frame. And when the mighty Samoan turns around, he gets two hands wrapped around his throat... ...which leads to him being powered off the canvas and DRIVEN into the mat!] GM: TUSK CRUSHER! TUSK CRUSHER! [Mizusawa throws himself across Tumaffi as the referee drops down.] GM: ONE!! TWO!! THREEEEEEEE!!! "DING! DING! DING!" MC: Ladies and gentlemen... here is your winner... MAMMOTH MIZUUUUSAAAAWAAAA! [The Japanese giant slowly gets to his feet, glaring down at the motionless Tumaffi... ...and then steps aside as Ben Waterson, Louis Matsui, and Gary Bright enter the ring.] GM: Mizusawa beats Tumaffi! BW: What a night for the Matsui Corporation! They stole the spotlight and now they've beaten the mighty Tumaffi! GM: And I've got a bad feeling this isn't over, Bucky. [That bad feeling proves to be true as Waterson SLAMS the metal briefcase down on the face of Tumaffi as Matsui and Bright put the boots to the big Samoan.] GM: Come on! There's no call for this! [Another big swinging suitcase smashes down on the face of Tumaffi!] GM: Waterson... like a damn jackal! BW: Watch your language, Gordo. GM: I can't help it! There's absolutely no reason for this - the match is over! [Another big briefcase shot to the face... ...and Waterson starts directing traffic, ordering the Gold Bomber to come join him.] GM: What is Bright doing? What's he- [And a HARD stomp of the briefcase drives the metal into the face of Tumaffi!] GM: Ohh! BW: I hope you enjoyed this match, Gordo! This may be the last time you ever see Tumaffi in the ring! [Matsui takes his turn, stomping the metal briefcase into Tumaffi's face... ...and then gesturing for the big man to take his shot. With a slight gesture, Mizusawa clears the path.] GM: Oh no. NO! [The giant takes two big steps and LEAPS into the air... ...and drops 420 pounds in a legdrop right down on the metal briefcase, SMASHING the face and skull of Tumaffi underneath it! Tumaffi's legs go limp at the impact of the legdrop and the crowd falls silent.] GM: Oh... oh my stars, Bucky. BW: We're gonna need a forklift out here to carry him out of the ring! GM: Tumaffi may be very seriously injured out here... he's not mov- [A big cheer rings out as Juan Vasquez, Bailey Fitzgerald, Corey Lawson, Vernon Riley, Clayton Shaw, and Aaron Anderson race down the aisle, clearing the ring of the Japanese giant, the Gold Bomber, and the two managers.] GM: Finally, we get some help to clear the ring... but it may be too late. BW: Oh, it's absolutely too late, daddy! Tumaffi's career was just ended tonight at SuperClash by the Japanese giant! GM: Fans... we need to get some medical help in the ring for Tumaffi. Don't go away... we'll be right back! [The camera holds in the ring where ringside doctor Dr. Bob Ponavitch enters the ring with his medical bag in hand, moving to check on the downed Samoan as we fade to black. ...and then back up on a shot of the AWA National Title belt. The super-excited voice of Mark Stegglet is heard over it.] "You've seen it on Saturday Night Wrestling!" [A shot of Marcus Broussard with the belt over his shoulder.] "You've seen it on AWA supercards like Memorial Day Mayhem and The Last Stampede!" [A shot of Ron Houston wearing the belt in a promo picture.] "You've seen the best the AWA has to offer wearing it!" [Now a shot of Kolya Sudakov in a fighting pose with the belt hanging over his shoulder.] "And now, it can be yours!" [A shot of Stevie Scott holding the belt high in the air fades into a shot of a young fan doing the same.] "Available NOW on AWAShop.com, get the official replica of the AWA National Title belt that only the best and brightest of the AWA superstars have held!" [A closeup of the AWA National Title slowly fades to black... ...and then fades back up to live action where Gordon Myers is standing by.] GM: Welcome back to SuperClash, fans. It's been an exciting night of action here in the Dallas Memorial Auditorium and we've still got three big matches to come. But before we get into that, let's talk about what we just saw - an absolutely brutal assault on Tumaffi by Ben Waterson, by Gary Bright, by Louis Matsui, and of course, by MAMMOTH Mizusawa! During the break, fans, Tumaffi had to be helped from the ring and an early exam by Dr. Bob Ponavitch said that Tumaffi appears to have suffered a major facial injury - perhaps a broke nose? Maybe a broken orbital bone? It's difficult to speculate at this point but what we do now, it looks like it may be quite some time before we see Tumaffi back inside an AWA ring. BW: The man stuck his nose into Ben Waterson's business and when you do that, you end up getting carried out of a building. The list is far too long to deny that, Gordo. GM: But don't look past the role that MAMMOTH Mizusawa had in that one. During the opening tonight, we talked about SuperClash being the place where careers are made. On a night where he won the Steal The Spotlight Showdown and then BEAT Tumaffi? Can there be any doubt that MAMMOTH Mizusawa has just cemented himself in the upper ranks of the AWA right now? BW: My question is - if the mighty Tumaffi got laid out by this guy, who CAN stop him? GM: That, my friend, remains to be seen. Fans, the National Tag Team Title match and the National Title match will be up later tonight but before we get to that we've got this very unique Triangle Elimination Match! All three participants are standing by with comments as is Jason Dane with an explanation of the rules in this one. Jason? [We fade to the locker room area where Jason Dane is standing.] JD: Thanks, Gordon. Indeed, the Triangle Elimination Match is a first here in the AWA and is quite the interesting concept. Three men are in the match - "Superstar" Kevin Slater, Shane Destiny, and Pure X. Those three men will walk to the ring in a few moments and each man will flip a coin. The two men whose coins match will start off. After a decision is reached... pinfall, submission, countout, whatever... the third man will enter. Then those two men will compete until a decision is reached. The other men will get back into the match and this will continue until one participant has defeated BOTH of his opponents. That participant will then be declared both the winner of the match and the #6 contender to the National Title! [Dane turns to the side.] JD: Kevin Slater, come on in here... [After a moment, Slater does indeed do so. He's dressed for action with the exception of a gaudy gold necklace and a pair of dark sunglasses.] KS: "Superstar" Kevin Slater, Dane. Get it straight. JD: My apologies. Mr. Slater, you're about to step into the ring for a match we've never seen in the AWA - the Triangle Elimination Match. Your thoughts? [Slater scratches his head.] KS: My thoughts are that I don't have a single clue how I got involved in this mess, Dane. I thought I had my intentions very clear in the AWA since I came back at Memorial Day Mayhem. If not, let me spell it out for you people one more time... I. Want. Bobby. Taylor. [Slater throws his arms apart in a "that's it" gesture.] KS: That so hard, Dane? JD: Well, no, it's not but that's not who you're facing tonight. KS: Don't you think I know that, Dane? Do you think I'm so addled from all my years chasin' my demons that I can't even think straight? Well, I'm not, okay? It's very clear that I'm not facing Bobby Taylor tonight. You know how I know that? [Dane looks confused.] KS: Because Pure X... this wet-behind-the-ears rookie... this kid who thinks he's something special cause he's trying to beat everyone in the Top 10 before he takes a shot at the title... this punk who thinks he can trash-talk me and run me down because I like to have some fun out here... He's no Bobby Taylor. Because Taylor, as yellow of a dog as he is, he wouldn't stand around and whine and cry about how everyone wants to fight and hurt each other and how we're all sportsmen and should wrestle clean and all that. Pure X... you're some great technician, that's fine with me. But your wristlocks won't mean a thing when I punch you in the mouth... your armlocks won't mean a thing when I Lariat your damn teeth out of your head... and your leglocks won't mean a thing when I dropkick your nose into a bloody pile. [Slater smirks.] KS: And Shane Destiny... I don't know what his problem is. I had no issues with Destiny. I thought he's a good guy... a tough competitor... someone that I had a lot in common with. But apparently, I was wrong because he stabbed me in the back as soon as he got a chance... [Pause.] KS: On second thought, maybe we do have a lot in common. [Slater shakes his head.] KS: But it doesn't matter, Dane, because I know Shane Destiny isn't Bobby Taylor either. Shane Destiny who walked into the AWA crying about his wife leaving him... crying about his demons... talking about how he wanted a shot at a comeback to become what he once was... [Slater pauses.] KS: Damn, maybe we have a LOT in common. [He shakes his head again.] KS: But he's no Bobby Taylor either because he'd rather put me in a headlock than smash my skull with a steel chair. And that's fine... that's fine with me. Cause I think I've got a commercial shoot next week... don't I, intern Jack? [A frazzled-looking Maniac Jack appears from off-camera carrying an iPhone that he frantically is typing into. He's also wearing a "Superstar" Kevin Slater windbreaker.] MJ: I'm not... I think... I don't... KS: Of course you don't. JD: Now, wait a second... what is this all about, "Superstar?" KS: I gave him a job. JD: And he took it? After what you did to him? KS: Of course he took it. And you know why? [Dane shakes his head.] KS: Because he needs a job. And because in typical Bobby Taylor fashion, he couldn't find a place of employment for someone who he USED to call a friend. [A smirk from the "Superstar."] KS: Let's do this. [And Slater walks out of view, Maniac Jack racing to keep pace behind him, leaving Jason Dane behind.] JD: Let's go to Mark with Shane Destiny! [We fade to another area backstage, where Mark Stegglet is standing by with Shane Destiny. Destiny is sporting a black and blue robe, and he has a giant smile spread across his face.] MS: Shane Destiny, tonight, you are putting your spot in the top ten on the line, and you'll have to beat two very formidable challengers to retain it. SD: Formidable? Kevin Slater and Pure X? Formidable? On what planet... in what realm are those two men considered anywhere within the same league as Shane Destiny? What you're dealing with here tonight is a simple case of the want-to-bes. That's right! Kevin Slater wants to be a top-level star in this sport. He wants the money, he wants the fame, he wants the glory... he just doesn't want to work for it. You see, I gave Kevin Slater a golden opportunity to raise his stock by _allowing_ him to be within the same space as me, and he threw it down the drain just like he has with every single chance he's ever gotten in his life. [Destiny scoffs to himself.] SD: I'm a winner, Stegglet. Born to be a winner, bred to be a champion, and live to be the best thing walking today. And Kevin Slater was satisfied with merely wrestling someone beneath him to a draw? I knew I was making a mistake by letting him try and prove himself, because his history is enough of an indicator of what he is... a loser. And speaking of losers, that brings me to you, Pure X. [Destiny's smile vanishes, his eyes now fixed to the camera.] SD: Pure X, I've seen guys like you dozens of times. Guys who think that because they are intense and picked up a few classes down at the local wrestling school, it means they are a world-caliber athlete. You don't have the pedigree I have, Pure X. You don't have the skill, you don't have the guts, and you don't have the heart. You may think you're hot stuff because of how you distracted me against Soup Bone Samson. Let me make something clear to you... I eat scrubs like you for breakfast. I make my living off of taking guys like you and making you look like I ran you through a razor blade factory. You think because you have a couple of wins against washed-up talent, that makes you something? [Destiny points at the camera lens.] SD: Tonight, I prove to you and to Kevin Slater that you are _nothing_, and you always will be. Pack a lunch, boys, you're going to school in that ring tonight. [Destiny walks away leaving Mark Stegglet behind... ...Shot cuts to the backstage area where Jason Dane stands by with #8 contender for the AWA National Title, Pure X. The young technician is dressed in his ring gear as he awaits the beginning of the first ever flip the coin match.] JD: Jason Dane here with Pure X as he prepares for his unprecedented Triangle Elimination Match with Shane Destiny and Kevin Slater with the sixth ranking on the line. Pure X, you have been uncharacteristically quiet the past month after the attack you received from Destiny and Slater. What are your thoughts going into this match? [X, after brushing his hair away, lets out a sigh.] PX: You know, Dane, I've been asking myself how this all came about. Like I've said before, my intention coming into the AWA was to be a competitor. I was going to leave my speaking for the ring and any statements that I did make? Have it be backed up by my performance. My intentions were to professional, respectful, and abide by the rules of the ring. Far too often, Dane, I've seen great wrestlers get mired into all this show - the back talking, the backstage antics, the unimportant - and never recover. [Pure X shakes his head.] PX: I vowed not to let that happen to me. I wanted to be remembered for how I plied my craft in the ring, not how smoothly I talked or who I backstabbed. I'm not a talker and I'm not a schemer. I'm a wrestler. And Dane? [For once, X cracks a smile.] PX: I consider myself a damn good wrestler. A great wrestler. One of the best in the AWA. But... [X shakes his head as he chuckles to himself.] PX: But it's those two things that put me where I'm at now. On one hand, you've got a man who's held some World Titles and used to be a great, respected wrestler. But now? He's a joke tumbling around the ring with chickens while calling out a man who hasn't seen the ring in a year. And Slater? Don't be so cocky about that tie cause if there was just one more second on that clock, your hand would've tapped that mat. I dominated that match with you, proved what a shell of a man you really are. [Pure X pauses, a bit of a sneer on his face as he faces the fact that he didn't beat Slater outright.] PX: Tonight, Slater, it may not be a submission, but you WILL fall to me finally. I can't allow myself to lose to a man who thinks of the ring as more of his stage for being a buffoon, cycling through your newest late-career crisis. JD: And Destiny? For weeks you have refused to even acknowledge him even after all he's attempted and done to you. [Pure X looks away for a moment and shakes his head again before looking back at the camera.] PX: Shane Destiny... Yeah, I guess he's finally got my attention, right? [X pauses, trying to think of the right words.] PX: I don't get it with you, Destiny. You came here, talking about how you were and are the best wrestler to ever lace 'em up. You bragged on and on about who you put down in your career and all the titles you strapped around your waist. But... I just don't see that man. [X shakes his hand towards the camera.] PX: Don't get me wrong, you were once considered the best - I don't doubt that. You were feared and fearless. But so far in AWA? I just don't see the same man I saw before you let your personal problems get in the way of your profession. Shoot, the last time I saw you actually wrestling in the ring, it took a dented briefcase for you to win. Hardly the hallmark of the best, right? [X pauses again, letting the question get some air before continuing on.] PX: But you trumpeted that win around here like you actually accomplished something. You tried using that win over Tumaffi as proof that you're still a talented wrestler. [Pure X shakes his head again.] PX: No, Destiny. You're no wrestler in my book - garbage fighter, maybe, but wrestler? No. Not when you can't beat a man using nothing else but your own skill. Not when you have to rely on trickery and scheming to get a win - or cost someone a win, like what you've tried with me. And not when you have to resort to attacking me and Slater when there was no business of you being out there. [Pure X rubs the back of his head, still feeling the effects of that Teardrop Suplex of Destiny's.] PX: You know, Dane, maybe that's why I was absent all these weeks... JD: Because of the Teardrop Suplex? Destiny's attacks? PX: No, no, no... [Pure X shakes his head some more.] PX: No, rather maybe I stayed away cause I couldn't bear to see two once-great wrestlers act like this... Fools. Cowards. As-uh... [X stops himself, remembering it's a family show.] PX: Basically, not the men I grew up watching. Not the men these fans came here tonight to see. [Pure X looks back at Dane.] PX: Tonight, Dane? My thoughts going into tonight are that I'm not facing Kevin Slater or Shane Destiny. Rather? I'm facing two men who only continue to do a disservice to their legacy. And they're just two ordinary men that signify two steps in the way of me ascending to MY purpose of being her in the AWA - a purpose these two men forgot... To be the absolute best in the ring, bar none. [With that, the camera cuts out back to the ring where Melissa Cannon is standing...] MC: The following contest is a TRIANGLE ELIMINATION MATCH! [Big cheer!] MC: Introducing first... ["Rock Superstar" by Cypress Hill starts up to a large shower of jeers.] MC: From Boston, Massachusetts... weighing in at 260 pounds... accompanied to the ring by his intern Maniac Jack... "SUPERSTAR" KEVIN SLAAAAATER! [Slater walks into view, Maniac Jack a few steps behind, trying to keep up. The former two time World Champion strides down the aisle with purpose, eyes locked on the ring. He pauses in mid-aisle to do a spin, arms spread wide as he looks out over the crowd.] GM: A former two time World Champion who has no qualms about reminding everyone of that fact... but to me, Bucky, it sounded like Kevin Slater didn't even CARE about being in this match! BW: He does seem a little preoccupied, Gordo. I mean, he's made it clear what he wants, right? He wants the match with "Outlaw" Bobby Taylor and he's going to do whatever it takes to get it. GM: Even if it means tormenting a poor innocent soul like Maniac Jack. [Slater climbs into the ring, pulling his sunglasses off and going into another spin before handing off the glasses to Maniac Jack.] MC: And his opponent... ["True Faith" begins to play over the public address as Shane Destiny strides confidently from the entrance, sporting a black and blue robe.] MC: From Las Vegas, Nevada... weighing in at 252 pounds... SHAAAAAAANE DESTINY! [He has a wide smile on his face as he approaches the ringside area, opting to remove his robe in the aisle, revealing a pair of blue trunks, black kneepads, and blue wrestling boots, opting to be ready to fight in case he wins the coin toss.] GM: Shane Destiny was one of the biggest free agent signings in AWA history - perhaps topped only by Mark Langseth a few weeks ago. Since then, he defeated Tumaffi a few months ago but has struggled in getting some momentum. BW: That all changes tonight, Gordo. He beats Slater. He beats Pure X. And as the #6 contender, he's suddenly within striking distance of the AWA National Title. GM: It's a big win if he gets it but he's facing two very tough challengers. [As Destiny gets into the ring, the music dies out.] MC: And their opponent... ["The Thing I Hate" by Stabbing Westward starts up to a big cheer from the crowd.] MC: From Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania... weighing in at 227 pounds... PUUUUUUUURE X! [The technician walks through the curtain, staring down the aisle towards the ring clad in dark green baggy pants with two cross swords on each leg in the form of an X. He also wears a black T-shirt and black wrestling boots. With a steely-eyed focus, he marches down the aisle towards the ring, rolling under the ropes when he gets there to join his two opponents.] GM: Perhaps the finest in-ring wrestler in the entire AWA, Pure X believes he is the future of this company... of this business... and who can blame him? BW: I don't know if he's the future or not, Gordo... but this match could go a long way to proving it if he is. GM: Alright, now the referee Mickey Meekly will call all three of them in for the coin toss... [Pure X, Destiny, and Slater all move to the middle of the ring, accepting coins from the referee.] GM: Okay... Slater with the toss... [The referee calls out "HEADS!" as the coin comes to rest.] GM: Destiny's turn... [Destiny tosses the coin... and the referee cries "TAILS!"] GM: And it all comes down to Pure X... whoever he matches, he faces in the first round... [The coin goes up...] GM: HEADS! It'll be Pure X vs Kevin Slater to start the match off! [And with that announcement, Kevin Slater rushes Pure X, assaulting him as the referee orders Shane Destiny out of the ring.] GM: Kevin Slater is wasting no time in this one. Remember, these two men battled to a time limit draw not very long ago but there's no time limits in this one to my understanding. BW: No time limits? These guys could go all night! [Slater bullrushes Pure X back to the corner, leaning over to grab the middle rope. He lunges forward, smashing his shoulder into the midsection of the technician...] GM: Shoulder drive to the gut... and another... and another... [Straightening up, Slater grabs X by the wrist, firing him across the ring.] GM: Here comes the "Superstar!" [Slater rushes across the ring, looking for a clothesline... ...but Pure X sidesteps the attack, hooking a full nelson.] GM: Whoa! [Planting his feet, Pure X hoists Slater up into the air, DUMPING him on the back of his head and neck with a full nelson suplex. The technician holds the bridge as the referee dives down to count.] GM: ONE!! TWO!! THREE!! "DING! DING! DING!" MC: Your winner of the first fall... PURE X! By the rules of the match, Shane Destiny will now replace Kevin Slater in the match. If Pure X defeats Destiny, he will be declared the winner! [Pure X quickly scampers to his feet, at the ready as Shane Destiny slides into the ring, looking for a shortcut.] GM: And holllllld your horses! Destiny was looking for a cheapshot but Pure X was ready for him, striking a defensive posture... BW: He knew Destiny was coming for him and he was waiting for him! He may be smarter than I thought! [The referee forces Slater out to the floor, the "Superstar" clutching the back of his neck as he kneels on the barely-padded concrete... ...and then signals for the match to start once more!] GM: Alright! It's Pure X vs Shane Destiny and we just saw how quickly this match can turn. If Pure X can bottle that magic and beat Shane Destiny just like that, he'll be the winner of this match, Bucky. BW: He may have gotten one over on Slater but that ain't happening with Destiny... ain't no way... [The two competitors slowly edge out of the corners towards one another...] GM: Both of these men are great ring technicians and will be looking to get an advantage early in this one. [Pure X shows a little bit more aggression, moving towards Destiny who tries to backpedal and runs out of room, ducking his head between the ropes and ordering the referee to back off Pure X.] GM: Destiny was trying to back up and ran out of real estate, Bucky. BW: He saw what happened to Slater just moments ago and he's not going to make the same mistake. He's going to take his time... take it easy... and let the match come to him. Don't force the issue. [Destiny moves out from the ropes and promptly lunges into a collar and elbow tieup that Pure X quickly turns into a side headlock.] GM: Side headlock applied by Pure X, cranking on the head and neck of Destiny... maybe thinking ahead to having another chance to use Pure Impact, that full nelson suplex we saw a little earlier with Slater... [Popping his hip, Pure X throws Destiny up, over, and down to the mat with a headlock takedown... ...but Destiny quickly bucks his legs up, hooking a headscissors on X that pulls the technician down to the mat before he also bucks his hips up, slipping out of the counterhold.] GM: Nice exchange there to start this one off... and X takes him right back down with another headlock! [This time, X's weight shifts to push Destiny's shoulders to the mat, forcing the referee to drop down and slap the canvas once before Destiny rolls his shoulder off the mat.] GM: Quick one count there for Pure X... [X cranks down on the headlock but allows Destiny to wrap his arms around his torso, rolling him onto his shoulders.] GM: One! Two! [But X rolls back the other way, shaking his head at Destiny's countermove... ...to which Destiny responds by yanking the hair of Pure X, forcing him down to the mat where Destiny pushes him into the canvas, climbing to his feet.] GM: That's a yank of the hair there, the ref calling for the break... [On the break, Destiny promptly drops an elbow... ...onto nothing but canvas as Pure X rolls to the side.] GM: Nothing doing on that one! [X quickly dives onto the downed Destiny, reapplying the headlock but Destiny pushes back to his feet, turning into X to push him back against the ropes.] GM: Back to the ropes... we need another break here... [Destiny waits until X releases the headlock and then pops up with a right hand to the jaw... ...and catches one just as hard to the jaw for his efforts!] GM: Oh yeah! Pure X is showing he's not about to be bullied around by Shane Destiny! If Destiny wants to throw, X will throw... it's not his strong suit but he'll do it if he has to! [The haymaker causes a surprised Destiny to scoot backwards across the ring to the ropes where he rolls out to the floor, looking up at Pure X who waves him back into the squared circle.] GM: And I don't think Shane Destiny was expecting that right hand from Pure X, Bucky. BW: I don't think he was. Pure X has always prided himself on being a ring technician... a technicial wrestler with few peers... but right there, it was a hard right hand that did the damage. [Destiny walks back and forth on the floor, pacing a bit. He pauses to trade words with a couple of irate fans at ringside, pointing a warning finger at them before turning back to the ring.] GM: Remember, there's no time limit in any of these matches so Destiny can waste all the time he wants out on the floor. BW: This is a mind game, I think, Gordo. He wants to lure Pure X out to the floor where he's completely overmatched. GM: That's right. I talked to Pure X earlier today and he told me that part of his strategy was to keep the match inside the ring with both men. He knows he's at a serious disadvantage on the floor with either of them. [Destiny slowly climbs the ringsteps, pausing as Pure X takes a step towards him. He orders the referee to back Pure X off as he climbs through the ropes... ...and immediately gets trapped in another side headlock, X cranking up the pressure.] GM: Back to the headlock goes X... and look at Destiny, pushing him back to the ropes... [On the ropes this time, Destiny shoves Pure X off in an Irish whip... ...and completely whiffs on a thrown knife-edge chop that Pure X ducks, spinning around...] GM: Dropkick! Right on target! [The crowd roars as Destiny hits the canvas from the impact of the dropkick, quickly scrambling to his feet... ...and ending up right back in the headlock!] GM: Pure X is in complete control of this match so far! He made short work of Kevin Slater and he is countering Shane Destiny's every move in the second fall of this one. [Destiny spins out of the headlock, moving behind in a rear waistlock before promptly dropping down, yanking both legs out from under Pure X to dump him chestfirst on the mat... ...where Destiny promptly grabs the left leg of X, pushing up on the ankle to bend the leg in an almost Boston Crab like position.] GM: Nice counter by Destiny... BW: Don't sound so surprised, Gordo. You said it yourself - these are two of the best in-ring technicians walking the Earth. GM: Destiny's pushing on that leg, trying to weaken a limb on X... [With the leg bent, Destiny reaches up and paintbrushes Pure X across the back of the head to the jeers of the crowd. He slaps him again to even more boos as he arrogantly sneers at the fans' reaction.] GM: Oh, come on! There's no need for that, Bucky. BW: Maybe not but it's more mind games with Pure X... trying to set the kid off to make a mistake. GM: He's too smart for that, I think. [Pure X pushes himself off the mat, pulling his leg free from Destiny's grip as he climbs to his feet... ...and pops the reaching Destiny with a forearm shot! A second one follows that knocks Destiny back to the corner where X quickly grabs the wrist, firing him across the ring...] GM: Corner to corner whip... Destiny stumbles out... ohhh! Big right hand to the midsection of Shane Destiny takes him down! [Destiny hits the canvas... ...and promptly rolls right under the ropes to the floor again, this time dropping to a knee to look up at Pure X who is getting a little fired up now. He's pacing back and forth, waving his arms to try to rally the crowd as he glares at Destiny.] GM: Pure X wants him back in there, Bucky. BW: Can't blame him for that... [The camera cuts to Kevin Slater who simply watches from a seated position at ringside.] GM: And all Kevin Slater can do at this point is watch and hope Destiny can win this fall to keep Slater in it. [Destiny stays kneeling on the floor for a moment, regrouping his thoughts as he climbs to his feet. He pulls on the second rope, stepping up on the apron before entering the ring... ...where he promptly walks over to Pure X and shoves him hard in the chest with both hands!] GM: Uh oh. [X proudly returns the favor with a hard shove of his own.] GM: Tempers are starting to flare in this one, Bucky. BW: You didn't think they'd be trading holds all night, didja? GM: I suppose not. [An irate Destiny rushes forward, wrapping up Pure X and shoving him back into the corner where he promptly straightens up and throws a big chop across the chest!] GM: Ohh! What a chop! [He sets for a second... ...but Pure X reaches out, spinning Destiny back to the buckles, and takes him out and over with a big hiptoss!] GM: Oh my! Destiny's right back up though and- [The crowd roars for an overhead armdrag takedown!] GM: Big armdrag by Pure X! Fans, we need to take a quick break but we'll be right back with more action here at SuperClash! [The camera holds on a scrambling Shane Destiny for just a moment before we fade to black... After a moment, we fade back up on a very long shot of the exterior of a pretty dingy looking building.] "Have you ever dreamed of fame?" [Cut a little closer.] "Of glory?" [A little closer.] "Of your friends and family seeing you on television?" [And just a little closer, revealing a red, white, and blue sign that reads "AWA Combat Corner."] "Well, now you can make all your dreams come true by signing up today at the AWA Combat Corner - the official training school for the American Wrestling Alliance!" [We cut to the interior of the building where we can see lots of standard gym equipment surrounding a very basic wrestling ring. There are people lifting weights, running on treadmills, and of course, working out in the ring.] "With the very best trainers in the business, the AWA Combat Corner is the most-equipped training facility to get you in shape and get you in the ring in the shortest amount of time!" [Cut into the ring where Todd Michaelson is barking out instructions.] "With former World Champion Todd Michaelson leading the classes, you can guarantee that you will be prepared for in-ring action upon graduation and with the AWA expanding by the day, you will have a place to work on Day One!" [Two young students are grappling on the canvas.] "So, stop by the Combat Corner today... call our offices... visit our website... and let them know that you want to be the next AWA Superstar! You want to be the future of the business! You want to wrestle!" [Fade to a graphic that has all the info on the AWA Combat Corner. We freeze there for a moment... ...and then back up to the ring where Pure X has Shane Destiny on his stomach, pushing up on the leg into a Boston Crab type position just as Destiny did to him earlier in the match.] GM: Welcome back, fans, where we're still in the second fall of this Triangle Elimination Match. Kevin Slater has one strike against him. If Pure X beats Destiny in this fall, the match is over. But if Destiny wins, the match will continue. [The crowd jeers as Destiny reaches out, wrapping his hands around the bottom rope. Pure X gets up, still holding the leg... ...and drags Destiny away from the ropes before leaping up, smashing his knee down on the injured leg of Destiny!] GM: Ohh! Big kneedrop on the leg of Destiny! Pure X is showing off what brought him to the dance, Bucky. The man thinks he is the future of the sport and right now, we're seeing evidence to support that. BW: So far, it's Pure X's night but it's still early. [Kneeling on the leg, Pure X pulls up on the ankle trying to further do damage to the knee of Destiny. X breaks the hold, pinning the ankle to the mat... ...and then leaps up, dropping a knee down on the leg again before pulling up on the foot, bending the leg into an awkward position.] GM: Pure X is doing a number on the left leg of Shane Destiny! BW: The leg just isn't supposed to bend that way. GM: It certainly isn't. BW: But Destiny gets to the ropes again! He's not giving up on this fall without a fight. He knows what's at stake in this one - climbing that ever-important ladder of title contention. GM: All three men are neck and neck in the Top 10 and this match will go a long way towards sorting all that out... [With the referee counting, Pure X gets to his feet, still holding the leg... ...and then jerks hard, pulling Destiny off the canvas into the air, and dropping him down on the back of his head on the mat to the cheers of the crowd!] GM: Ohhh! Pure X is staying right on the leg and- [Still holding the leg, Pure X stretches it out and then leaps up, dropping an elbow down across the knee!] GM: And right back to the knee, scissoring Destiny's ankle between his legs and applying pressure to it... [Destiny throws a vicious right hand to the side of the face from behind Pure X. A second one is right behind it and a third as well. The referee reprimands him for the clenched fists... ...to which Destiny replies by opening his fists and RAKING the eyes of Pure X!] GM: Oh, come on! [Destiny quickly climbs to his feet, visibly hurting as he steps down on the leg. He drags the blinded Pure X off the mat, turning around, and HURLING him through the ropes to the floor.] GM: Ohhh! And this is NOT where Pure X wants to be, Bucky! BW: It's certainly not. Shane Destiny's at his best inside the ring but he's wrestled in places that you couldn't survive in unless you can mix it up on the floor. GM: The technician is out to the floor... Destiny's coming out after him... [Standing on the apron, Destiny raises his hands over his head, leaping off with a double axehandle that smashes down over the skull of Pure X, knocking him back down to the floor.] GM: Shane Destiny with a big sledge off the apron... taunting these ringside fans. They do not like Shane Destiny... not one bit. BW: And he couldn't possibly care less about that. Maybe once upon a time he did but Shane Destiny now cares about money, titles, and glory... that's it. GM: Destiny drags X off the floor by the hair... [Grabbing him by the arm, Destiny whips X into the steel barricade!] GM: Ohhh! Spinefirst into the steel... [Slapping his arm, Destiny charges towards Pure X... ...who rests his arms over the railing, kicking up so that Destiny runs facefirst into his boots!] GM: Facefirst to the boots! [Stepping away from the rail, X grabs Destiny, firing him under the ropes into the ring and rolling right back in.] GM: And that's exactly what we were talking about. Pure X wants to stay off that floor at all costs. He does not want this to turn into a fight. [With Destiny stunned, Pure X gets to his feet, crouching a bit as he tries to stay behind the recovering Las Vegas native...] GM: Pure X is measuring him... trying to find something... [And as Destiny gets to his feet, X rushes towards him, leaping into the air with a cross body press!] GM: Crossbody! One!! Two!! Shoulder out at two! [The crowd cheers the nearfall as Pure X pushes up to his knees, cradling the head of Destiny as he throws forearm after forearm after forearm into the side of his face!] GM: Pure X has got this Dallas crowd whipped into a frenzy! [Getting to his feet, he grabs the injured leg of Shane Destiny, leaning over with it... ...and EATS a viciously thrown upkick to the jaw!] GM: Ohh! BW: Destiny caught him! Pure X got a little sloppy and Destiny caught him! [X falls to the mat, clutching his jaw as Shane Destiny rolls to all fours, desperate to get to his feet before Pure X does.] GM: Destiny is up first... [Pure X is to his knees when Destiny yanks him up by the hair, burying an elbowsmash into the back of X's neck. Still holding the hair, Destiny connects with a kneelift to the body... ...and X BURSTS forward with a forearm smash that knocks Destiny off his feet and down to his rear on the canvas!] GM: What a shot! X clocked him with that forearm and- OHHHHH! [The crowd buzzes after Destiny hooks X by the front of the trunks and YANKS him facefirst into the buckles!] BW: Big time leverage move by Shane Destiny! He caught Pure X off-balance and he made him pay for it right there! GM: Pure X's chest and face hit the corner hard and that might be the opportunity that Shane Destiny needs to get this match back on track for himself. [Destiny uses the ropes to pull himself to his feet, reaching down to clutch his knee before trying to shake some life into it. Approaching the corner, he turns Pure X around and CREAMS him with a European uppercut that snaps X's head back, sending him falling back into the buckles again.] GM: Man... what an uppercut that was. Destiny really caught him with that one. BW: He may be eating Thanksgiving dinner through a straw after that. GM: A hard elbowsmash to the back of the neck now as well and you have to think that Shane Destiny may be thinking about that Teardrop Suplex. If he can soften up the neck enough, that Teardrop Suplex could get him a win over Pure X in this one. BW: And on Pure X's mind is the thought that if a man can't stand up, he can't throw that Teardrop Suplex. He wants to get Destiny back down and work that leg some more. GM: Fans, we've got to take another quick break as Shane Destiny continues to work Pure X over in the corner... we'll be right back! [Destiny uncorks another big chop across the chest of Pure X as we fade to black. After a moment, we fade back up on a shot of Jason Dane and Mark Stegglet in an apparently moving car.] JD: Hey, AWA fans - so much of our lives are now spent on-the-go, wouldn't you love to be able to keep track of your favorite AWA superstars when you're away from home? MS: I know I would, Jason! And I'd also love to have a place to put out all those rumors we hear during the week that never make AWA Saturday Night Wrestling. JD: You've got that right. Wouldn't it be great if we could combine both of those ideas into one? [Suddenly, a giant graphic of an iPhone appears between them!] JD & MS: NOW WE CAN! [A voiceover takes over - thank God.] VO: Starting today, you can download AWA Access - a great new application for your iPhone where you can get all the AWA news, rumors, and happenings before the rest of the world. And don't forget to check out the "exclusive" section for matches that never aired! AWA Access - coming to an iPhone near you! [Fade back to black... ...and as we fade back up, Pure X is trying to climb back into the ring where Shane Destiny delivers a hard kick to the sternum, keeping X out on the apron!] GM: Welcome back, fans... and Shane Destiny with a cheapshot as Pure X was trying to get back inside the ring right there! [A few more stomps and kicks to the body of Pure X keep him on the apron until Destiny leans through the ropes, pulling X's upper body between the top and middle ropes where he delivers an elbowsmash to the back of the neck.] GM: Pure X is trying to get back inside the ring. He knows he can't win this thing on the outside and- [Suddenly, Pure X lunges forward with a shoulder driven into the midsection of Shane Destiny... ...and then SLINGSHOTS over the top of Destiny, pulling him down in a sunset flip!] GM: HE MAY HAVE HIM!! ONE!! TWO!! THR- OHHHH! [Pure X slaps the canvas in frustration as Destiny kicks out of the sunset flip in time... ...and then PASTES the rising Destiny with a forearm, knocking him right back down to the mat where X applies another lateral press for a two count before Destiny fires the shoulder up.] GM: Two very near falls in a row right there for Pure X. He's close and he knows it... he's close to knocking off the #7 and #6 contenders in the same match! And when he does that, he's even closer to finally earning his shot at the National Title! [The Pittsburgh native drags Destiny off the canvas again... ...but Destiny slaps his hand away, popping him with a right hand!] GM: Ohh! Destiny caught him! [X spins away from the impact of the right hand, turning his back to Destiny... ...which allows the Vegas native the opportunity to lock his hands between the legs of Pure X, hoisting him up into the air!] GM: TEARDROP! [But at the peak of the lift, Pure X flips clear over the top, landing on his feet behind Destiny where he promptly secures a waistlock, and drops back in a rolling reverse cradle!] GM: CRADLE! ONE!! TWO!! THR- BW: REVERSED!! [And Shane Destiny hooks two handsful of trunks as the referee starts to count again.] GM: ONE!!! TWO!!! THREEEE!! [Pure X pops up off the mat, immediately telling the referee that he had his trunks pulled but the referee pleads ignorance, shrugging his shoulders and waving it off.] "DING! DING! DING!" MC: Your winner of this fall... SHANE DESTINY! Kevin Slater will now replace Pure X in the ring and if Shane Destiny defeats Kevin Slater, he will win this match! [The crowd jeers as Slater rolls in... ...but cheers a little bit as he blindsides a surprised Shane Destiny with a running right forearm, knocking Destiny down to the mat. Slater immediately stomps and kicks at the injured knee as a frustrated Pure X exits the ring.] GM: Pure X was robbed! He was robbed by Shane Destiny and now all he can do is sit outside the ring and wait! BW: Not just wait. He has to now root for Kevin Slater because if Destiny beats Slater, this match is over. GM: What a weird twist in this one. Pure X is now rooting for the man he beat in just moments earlier in this match. This is the third fall in this Triangle Elimination Match and what a wild one this is turning out to be! [Slater reaches down to grab the injured leg, tucking it under his arm, and turns him over into a half Boston Crab!] GM: Half crab applied by Slater! BW: Now submission wrestling is NOT Slater's strong suit. He's got that double arm submission we've seen him use lately to taunt Bobby Taylor but I can't remember the last time he's gone after someone's legs. Slater's a high impact style wrestler and this isn't his bread and butter. GM: But if he can apply the hold correctly, this is a smart move on his part. [Outside the ring, Pure X looks on with concern as he eyes the action.] GM: Slater's cranking back on that leg... boy, can you imagine the size of his ego if he gets Shane Destiny to submit tonight? [After a bit, Slater seems to get tired of using the Crab, simply walking away from it and delivering a few stomps to the leg. He reaches down, hauling Destiny to his feet, and popping him with a forearm smash that knocks him back to the buckles.] GM: Slater puts Destiny in the corner... [A few more hard elbow shots to the temple connect before Slater leans over, hoisting Destiny up and depositing him on the top rope. After a moment of gloating, Slater climbs up to the middle rope, slinging Destiny's arm over his neck... ...and powers him up, taking him down in a thunderous superplex!] GM: Ohhh! That might be it right there! [Slater floats over perfectly into a lateral press as the referee drops down to count.] GM: We've got one! We've got two! We've got- no! [Slater pushes up off of Destiny, a little surprised at the kickout. But he simply grins as he climbs to his feet, delivering a pair of punt kicks to the ribs of the technician, knocking him out to the ring apron.] GM: Destiny rolls out to the apron... and Kevin Slater is going out there with him! [The "Superstar" steps out on the apron, leaning over to pull Destiny up off the mat... ...where he pops Destiny in the ear with a forearm smash.] GM: Ooof! What a shot! Now... wait... wait a second! [The crowd buzzes as Slater turns Destiny into the ropes and then steps around him so that he has a foot on either side of his opponent, reaching around to hook a waistlock!] GM: Has he lost his mind?! BW: Slater thinks he's back in Los Angeles again! GM: He's trying to suplex Destiny off the apron! He's trying to- BW: And I don't know if Destiny can fight it! [The Vegas native clings to the top rope, wrapping his arms around them to try and stay on the apron as Slater pulls, tugs, struggles, and strains to hoist Destiny into the air with an off-the-apron German suplex!] GM: Destiny's hanging on! Destiny's trying to fight it! [But with one leg barely able to support his weight, Destiny seems to be fighting a losing battle as his arms slip on the ropes.] GM: Oh my god... he could end Destiny's career! BW: Maybe this is how he'll finally get Taylor in the ring! He's going to show Bobby Taylor EXACTLY what he's driven him to do! Shane Destiny's blood is going to be on Bobby Taylor's hands! [Slater re-adjusts his grip, trying for another lift... ...and gets closer than he has so far, almost prying Destiny's arms from the ropes!] GM: Fans... fans, this is bad. This is very, very bad! BW: Gordo, not even Shane Destiny, as much as you dislike him, deserves this! GM: No one deserves this! Absolutely no one! [The "Superstar" hooks the waistlock again, this time almost sure to be able to get Destiny into the air... ...until a desperate Shane Destiny does the only thing that can possibly save him, swinging his injured leg backwards...] "OHHHHHHHHHHH!" [...right into the groin of Kevin Slater!] GM: Low blow! Low blow! BW: But Shane Destiny just saved himself with that low blow! "DING! DING! DING!" MC: Ladies and gentlemen... due to the low blow, Shane Destiny has been DISQUALIFIED! Therefore, your winner of the fall is Kevin Slater! Pure X will now replace Shane Destiny inside the ring. [A badly-hurting Slater lies on the barely-padded concrete floor clutching his groin as a relieved Shane Destiny slumps down to the floor, hobbling over to grab a chair from the timekeeper's table to sit on.] GM: Shane Destiny is looking to rest the leg... and Kevin Slater may be looking to rest... well, he may have just had any post-show plans put on ice, Bucky. BW: That puts Pure X back in the ring with Kevin Slater again for the second time in this match. But this becomes a very interesting scenario, Gordo. GM: How so? BW: If Kevin Slater beats Pure X, the match is over and Slater wins, right? GM: Correct. BW: But if Pure X beats Slater, it doesn't matter! He already beat Slater! So, for him to win the match, he needs to beat Slater... and then beat Shane Destiny! Pure X will have to win two more falls to win this thing! GM: Wow... uh... everybody got that? [Yep. We get it.] GM: Pure X is back inside the ring... he's ready to go... but Kevin Slater is still out on the floor with that injured groin thanks to Shane Destiny! [Realizing the advantage he has, Pure X rolls to the floor, yanking a hurting Kevin Slater to his feet and shoving him back into the ring. X rolls in right behind him, quickly applying a lateral press and reaching back to hook both legs.] GM: ONE!! TWO!! THRE- NO! NO! HE KICKED OUT! [The crowd buzzes as Slater just barely avoided the three count much to the dismay of Pure X. The Pittsburgh grappler quickly gets to his feet, grabbing the leg of Slater...] GM: THE X! THE- NO! Slater grabs the ropes! [Pure X struggles against Slater, trying to pull him away from the ropes, dragging him all the way to his feet with Slater still holding onto the top rope... ...where he kicks up, lashing out with both feet squarely to the chest of Pure X, knocking him away from the "Superstar."] GM: Slater kicks him off... not much on that kick though and Pure X is- [As the technician moves back in, Kevin Slater EXPLODES with a crazily thrown Lariat, using his entire body to deliver the blow that floors both men!] GM: OHHH! MY GOD! WHAT A LARIAT! WHAT A LARIAT!! [Still hurting, Slater stays down on his stomach, throwing an arm across Pure X.] GM: ONE!! TWO!! THRE- [A big cheer goes up as the referee breaks the count, pointing to Pure X's foot on the bottom rope.] GM: X got a foot on the ropes! BW: I think this match was over if he hadn't. I've seen Kevin Slater do a lot of damage with a Lariat like that over the years and that move just completely upset Pure X's apple cart, daddy! [Slater pushes off the canvas, still wincing with every movement as he leans over to drag Pure X back to his feet... ...and hoists him up across his shoulders in a fireman's carry!] GM: Slater's calling for the Death Valley Driver! He's gonna spike Pure X's skull into the canvas and finish this off right here and now! [Nodding his head, Slater walks out to the middle of the ring, pausing to point at Shane Destiny... ...and the slight hesitation is all Pure X needs to drag Slater down to the mat in a crucifix!] GM: ONE!! TWO!! THREEEEEEE!!! "DING! DING! DING!" MC: Your winner of the fall... PURE X! Shane Destiny will now replace Kevin Slater inside the ring to continue the match! [Destiny is slow to oblige that order, climbing from his ringside chair to stare into the ring where Pure X has quickly taken up a defensive stance yet again...] GM: That means Destiny and Pure X have to go at it again! BW: And if Pure X wins, the match is over. If Destiny wins, he'll face Kevin Slater with the match on the line! This is the last stand for Pure X! GM: Pure X is waiting for Destiny... waiting for him to- [The crowd gasps in shock as Kevin Slater regains his feet after being pinned and DRILLS Pure X from behind with a Lariat to the back of the head!] GM: OHHH! Come on! What's this all about?! BW: Kevin Slater's not an idiot! He figured out exactly what I just said. If he wants any shot of winning this thing, he needs Shane Destiny to beat Pure X and I think he just decided to help that chance along! [Pulling Pure X off the mat by the back of the trunks, Slater spins him around and shoves him into the ropes. Rebounding out, Pure X gets hoisted up in a high bearhug as Slater pivots and DRIVES Pure X into the canvas with a spinebuster!] GM: OHHHH! This is ridiculous! Get in there, referee! [A smirking Slater abandons the ring, shouting at Destiny to get inside and finish off Pure X. Destiny, seizing the moment, dives under the ropes where he crawls across the ring, throwing himself into a lateral press on Pure X!] GM: No! Not like this! [The referee drops down to count.] GM: One! Two! Thre- NO! NO! I can't believe it! [Pure X's lift of a shoulder at the moment has the crowd roaring and Shane Destiny (and Kevin Slater) absolutely livid. Destiny pushes up out of the lateral press, showing three fingers to Mickey Meekly who shakes him off, holding up two. Destiny promptly pulls Pure X up by the back of the head, cradling the skull as he drives right hand after right hand into the head.] GM: Come on, ref! Those are clenched fists! [Dragging Pure X off the mat, Destiny slaps him hard across the face, causing X to stumble back into the ropes where the Las Vegas native grabs him by the wrist, firing him off to the ropes... ...and hobbles forward with a clothesline that Pure X ducks under before leaping up to hook one arm with his arms and one arm with his legs, pulling Destiny down in a crucifix!] GM: Crucifix rollup for one! TWO!! THRE- [Destiny kicks out of the rollup attempt, scrambling to get to his feet before Pure X does... ...and DRILLS X with a forearm smash to the side of the face. Grabbing him by the hair, Destiny slams his face into the buckles before spinning him back into the corner.] GM: X backed to the buckles... [With the technician in the corner, Destiny winds up... ...and POPS Pure X across the chest with knife-edge chop!] GM: Ohh! What a chop! [Grabbing X by the wrist, Destiny fires him from corner to corner... ...and then stumbles across the ring again, this time connecting with a running clothesline in the buckles!] GM: Clothesline in the corner... X staggers out... [Right into a hoist and drop with an inverted atomic drop... ...and immediately into another lunging lariat!] GM: Good grief! What a series of assaults by Shane Destiny! [Dragging X out of the corner, Destiny lunges across him with a lateral press.] GM: We've got one! We've got two! We've got- [Pure X fires the shoulder off the canvas at two once more. An irate Destiny gets to his feet, stomping the lifted shoulder repeatedly... ...and then delivering a punt kick to the ribs that forces Pure X to roll under the ropes to the floor.] GM: Uh oh... look at Slater... ["Superstar" Kevin Slater rises out of his seat, slowly moving towards the downed Pure X... ...only to have Shane Destiny drop down to the mat, rolling under the ropes and taking up a defensive spot by Pure X!] GM: What in the world...? BW: He didn't have a choice! If Slater attacks Pure X in front of the referee, the ref will have to DQ Destiny and that would give Pure X the win in the match! [Destiny seems to be trying to explain this to Kevin Slater out on the floor... ...all the while giving Pure X time to recover.] GM: Destiny pulls Pure X off the floor... he's got him by the arm... [Destiny attempts another whip to the railing... ...but Pure X reverses, sending Destiny spinefirst to the steel!] GM: OHHH! [Grabbing Destiny by the hair, Pure X fires him under the ropes into the ring and rolls in right behind him.] GM: Both men back inside the ring... [Destiny is on his rear, scooting backwards across the ring, pleading from mercy from Pure X who is slowly approaching his prey.] GM: Destiny is down... Destiny is hurting... and Pure X is looking to finish him off! [In the corner, Destiny runs out of room, leaning against the buckles as Pure X leans in, dragging him up... ...and getting his eyes raked by Destiny!] GM: Ohh! Another cheapshot! [Destiny moves in behind a blinded Pure X again, reaching between the legs to secure the Teardrop Suplex... ...but this time, as Destiny hoists him off the mat, X switches positions just enough in mid-air to hook the crucifix, yanking Destiny down to the mat.] GM: CRUCIFIX! CRUCIFIX!! ONE!! TWO!! THREEEE!!!! "DING! DING! DING!" MC: Ladies and gentlemen, here is your winner... PURRRRRRE X! [X slowly rolls to his knees, pumping both fists in the air in triumph...] GM: He did it! He did it! Pure X has beaten both Kevin Slater and Shane Destiny! He is the Number Six Contender to the National Title! BW: I can't believe it. GM: Believe it or not... on this night at SuperClash, Pure X is walkin' on air! [Pure X slowly pulls himself up using the ropes, leaning in the corner to suck some wind into his body as he celebrates his victory with the roaring crowd.] GM: Fans, we'll be right back - don't you dare go away! [The camera holds on a triumphant Pure X still overjoyed at his victory before fading to black. ...and then back up. It's a shot of a few kids standing outside of a classroom. A fourth kid walks up to them, carrying his backpack over his shoulder.] 4th Kid: Hey guys... wait til you see what I got from AWAShop.com! [He whips open the backpack and produces... ...a JUAN VASQUEZ BOBBLEHEAD!] "Whoa!" "Wow!" "That rocks!" "I want one... now!" [The 4th kid looks pleased with himself... ...until a fifth kid walks up.] 5th Kid: Juan Vasquez, huh? That's not bad... but check this out! [The 5th kid opens his backpack and reveals... ...a CITY JACK BOBBLEHEAD!] "WHOA!" "WOWER!" "THAT ROCKS MORE!" "I WANT ONE... NOW!" [The fifth kid looks proud as the fourth kid looks sad at his Vasquez bobblehead and we fade to black... ...and then fade back up on a shot backstage of Jason Dane standing in the middle of a large area where various stage crew can be seen moving back and forth and carrying various pieces of equipment. Beside him stands a familiar squat, powerful figure.] JD: SuperClash is underway and here with us tonight as a special guest is a man who is definitely no stranger to professional wrestling fans. Joining us tonight to watch the event unfold is a veteran of the EMWC, UWF, UEW, SCRA and other great companies... ladies and gentlemen... JASON KEENING! [In the arena, a cheer rises from the crowd as the broad-shouldered man with shoulder-length black hair smiles at the camera.] JK: I'm really glad I could be here to see SuperClash in person... and I've gotta say from what I've seen so far... the AWA rocks!! [This sparks another cheer from the AWA faithful as Dane grins widely.] JD: Jason, we're really glad you could be here tonight. If you don't mind, I'd like to ask... you've been retired from wrestling for several years now. Is there any truth to the rumors that you're considering coming out of retirement to wrestle again? [Keening chuckles.] JK: I'm... uhhh... I'm actually working behind the scenes these days, helping out where I can. But I... [Suddenly the camera pans to the right, where Raphael Rhodes stands, looking right at Keening.] RR: You want to help out where you can, right? Well... I have a pretty big decision to announce tonight. I was wonderin' if you and I could have a quick chat about it. [Keening looks a little surprised at the request but quickly nods.] JK: Sure. I'd be happy to help. RR: ... away from the camera, that is. JK: Excuse me... [And with that, Rhodes and Keening walk off-camera leaving Dane behind.] JD: I'm not quite sure what to make of this, folks! Gordon, Bucky... back to you! [Cut back to ringside where Gordon and Bucky look flat out puzzled by what they just saw.] GM: What in the world was that all about? What on Earth would Raphael Rhodes and Jason Keening have to discuss? BW: Why is Jason Keening even HERE?! Don't we have enough do-gooders filling up the locker room? Do we need the ultimate Boy Scout here as well? GM: Raphael Rhodes has stated he'll announce his decision tonight - whether or not he'll be joining up with the Hotshot, the Bomber, and the Agent To The Stars. Perhaps he's looking for some guidance from Jason Keening. BW: That's disgusting. Raphael Rhodes used to be a warrior... a fighter... now he's asking a Keening for advice? Ugh. GM: More on that as the night progresses but now, fans, we've got what can only be described as the ultimate grudge match - Kentucky's Pride - Dufresne and Freeman - UNSANCTIONED... for the National Tag Team Titles. We heard from the challengers earlier tonight so let's go backstage where the champs are standing by! [Shot comes to a simple black backdrop where the two men who make up the AWA National Tag Team Champions Kentucky's Pride stand by. One the left side stands Tin Can Rust, proud with his tag title adorned around his waist and a stoic look on his aged face. He wears a pair of black jeans and a black T-shirt with the outline oif the state of Kentucky in green on it. On the right stands the more rotund figure of City Jack. He wears a pair of blue jeans and a black "Give Me Liberty Or Give Me Death" T-shirt. His half of the tag titles is slung over his shoulder and held by his right hand. His face still wears a bandage around the top for the damaged right eye of Jack, leaving the left eye uncovered.] CJ: It's time... [Jack throws out those words before settling in a long pause.] CJ: It's time, it's time, it's time. I know that what ya'll been thinkin' up some. I know that what them there announcers have been sayin'. And I know dang-on well it's what those two backslidin' yellow snakes've thinkin'. This here SuperClash... [Jack looks to his partner Rust, who shakes his head in reply.] CJ: Could be the last time the two of us are seen with these here AWA Na-tion-al Tag Team titles. And I gotta say, if I was watchin' us? I too may be havin' my doubts about if we could beat them two cowardly little boys. TCR: Jack, there's no way - NO WAY - I'm giving up these titles. [Rust, a bit too amped, fails to catch on to his partner's sarcasm.] TCR: We came here to reform and show all of them - the critics, the fans, the wrestlers - that there's none better! We came here to fight and fight we have! And for Calisto Dufresne and Adrian Freeman?! For them to even think they can pry these titles from from grip? [Rust narrows his eyes, steaming at the mere notion of someone taking away the long-held tag titles.] TCR: It's not happening... No. No, Jack, it's not happening. [City Jack cracks a smile and puts his hand up, trying to calm his partner.] CJ: Naw, naw, Rust... I was just sayin'... We've got here two old men, slow a-foot and a couple pounds over the acceptable... [Jack pats his much larger belly as he lets out a smile.] CJ: Or in my case, a little more than a couple ol' pounds over. Rust here, he got dinged up takin' on them two alone and myself? Well... [Jack turns a bit more towards the camera so that his bandaged eye is in full view.] CJ: This here white gauze ain't helpin' me see none better when I'm tusslin' it in the ring. So sure, I can understand the doubt. I can understand what people may be thinkin' when going into this here match. That's what all's been talked about when it comes to us two... [Rust shakes his head, not agreeing with the sentiment.] TCR: Let 'em talk and let 'em doubt. I'll fight those two ants myself and punch right through their noggins if I have to, Jack. There's no way we're losing, Jack. [Rust looks down at the title locked around his waist, taps it a couple times, and then comes back up with a dead cold stare.] TCR: No way. [City Jack kind of shakes his head.] CJ: You know what, Rust? You certainly sure do drive a hard line, my man! You certainly do! [Rust nods, still breathing hard from that bit of rage.] CJ: I done been here before... I remember times when I had my arm casted on and everythin' and I still fought. Now, sure, I did lose it that once down in the Grand Isle and all while my arm was a-broke, but that was a different time and different circumstance. See, I done got a man to turn to when in a time o' trouble now. [Jack slaps the shoulder of Rust.] CJ: A man who - [Jack stands back a moment to take a gander at his cooling off partner.] CJ: Who, well, I sure wouldn't want to be in the ring 'gainst none now, I see. And me? Sure, I got only one good peeper here, but that ain't goin' make me fear none and it's goin' to stop me wrestlin' like I've always done did, ya hear? [Jack nods.] CJ: And that there's the answer as to why I accepted this here match - why I let it go what my man here the Can Crusher agreed to before. I'm... I'm a man who ain't a afraid to put it all on the line, 'specially when my honor's on the line. 'Specially when I see what this here match means to Rust - a man I call a friend to the end. And, well... [The Liberty, KY native lets out a sigh.] CJ: You know, when my pops... When was done in his final days and I was with him there and all.. He said, "Son, when you're at where I am now, make sure you have no regrets. Make sure you did all you had to do when you had to do it. Cause when you're 'bout to meet the Maker? There's no goin' back for any second chances. And there's no feelin' or pain worse than that regret." [Rust nods as Jack puts his head down for a moment.] CJ: I've... I've taken that to heart my whole career now. To have seen it in my pops eyes then, he needn't said none further. I could see what what the pain of his regrets was doin' to him and I vowed, for sure, never to have one more moment of second guessin' none. [City Jack pauses again before bringing his head back up.] CJ: So this here's what I HAVE to do! This here is my life - MY life! I ain't gonna run none like Cal-is-to Du-fresne's done from me for the past five on years. I ain't gonna hide behind no setbacks, little or big! This is NO regrets! [Jack gets an angry look on his face, almost like Rust's.] CJ: And I'm willin', boys, to put it ALL on the line! All of it - the titles, my health, our pride, my future, this here whole team... Just to make sure this ends here at SuperClash... [Jack pauses, his good, non-bandaged eye narrowing.] CJ: Just to make sure you two never see the light o' day ever again when it comes to these here championships you've been salivatin' over. This IS the end, boys... The absolutely end... [And with that, the two members of Kentucky's Pride glare intensely into the camera before the shot cuts out to the ring where Melissa Cannon is standing.] MC: The following contest is scheduled for one fall and it is for the AWA National Tag Team Titles! There will be no countouts... no disqualifications... no time limit... and it is UNSANCTIONED! [Big cheer!] MC: Introducing first... they are the challengers... [ZZ Top's "Sharp Dressed Man" kicks in over the PA to a major explosion of boos.] MC: At a total combined weight of 435 pounds... they are the team of "Ladykiller" Calisto Dufresne and "Subzero" Adrian Freeman! [The jeers intensify as Dufresne and Freeman make their way through the curtain. Freeman is all business as he strides towards the ring ignoring the very same fans that Dufresne is taking the time to mock from the aisle.] GM: The arrogant challengers are on the way to the ring... having bullied their way into getting this title shot tonight. They don't have the three points and they used Kentucky Pride's emotions in getting this match. BW: Brilliant, isn't it? GM: Disgusting if you ask me. BW: That's why you've never been a champion in this sport, Gordo, or even managed a champion. You don't have the killer instinct. These two do and they will do absolutely ANYTHING tonight to become the National Tag Team Champions... anything. [Freeman walks up the ringsteps, climbing through the ropes. He points a warning finger at the official before moving back to the corner to warm up. Dufresne is a few feet behind him, standing on the apron and swiveling his hips in the direction of a few ringside fans before stepping into the ring with a cackle.] GM: They look ready for this one and I believe you're right, Bucky. I believe they will do anything to become the tag team champions here tonight. [The music starts to fade out as Melissa speaks again.] MC: And their opponents... ["My Old Kentucky Home" by Stephen Foster plays over the PA as the fans in the Dallas Memorial Auditorium get to their feet and let out a huge cheer. ] MC: At a total combined weight of 583 pounds... City Jack and Tin Can Rust... KENTUCKY'S PRIIIIIIDE! [The cheers get louder as Tin Can Rust and City Jack steps out from the entrance. Both men have a look of business tonight, ready for a fight in this Unsanctioned match. Rust is dressed as usual in his black wrestling tights and boots, with a simple "Kentucky's Pride" black t-shirt. He also wears his half of the AWA tag titles around his waist. Jack wears his normal wrestling garb of a dark brown wrestling singlet, black boots, sweatbands around his forearms, and a black "Give Me Liberty or Give Me Death" t-shirt. His has his title belt over his shoulder - for a moment - before shooting it up into the sky as he and Rust walk down to the ring.] GM: Now these two men look ready for a fight! BW: Are you kidding me? Rust looks like a man who had his Jello stolen at the old folks' home. And City Jack is a right hand to the eyeball away from being half the man that Stevie Wonder is! GM: Give me a break! That's disgusting! [When the two finally get to the ring, they look at each other and nod, before finally ascending the step and making their way through the ropes.] GM: Listen to these fans... to this crowd... this place is going nuts for Kentucky's Pride! What an atmosphere we've got going on here tonight in Dallas for SuperClash! This truly is the biggest night of the year! [City Jack stands in the corner, glaring across the ring at Dufresne and Freeman before handing his title belt over to the official... ...and then SPRINTING across the ring, cocking his arm back for a Metropill and taking a full swing at Calisto Dufresne who throws himself through the ropes to the floor alongside his partner!] GM: Oh yeah! Oh yeah! Injured eye or not - City Jack is ready for a fight! He wants Dufresne... he wants him so badly! These two have had a blood feud raging for YEARS and tonight, we may finally see it come to an end, Bucky. BW: It has to end, Gordo. I don't think either of these two men can truly be happy in this business until they put the other on the shelf for good. That's how much these two men hate one another. GM: The referee is forcing City Jack back... trying to keep him at bay so the challengers can get back inside the ring... [Referee Marty Meekly gets Jack to retreat back to his own corner where a surprisingly calm Tin Can Rust talks to his partner, trying to settle him down a little bit. Rust huddles up with Jack, talking softly to him to which Jack replies with a nod but keeps his eyes locked across the ring where Dufresne and Freeman are getting back to their corner.] GM: It looks like Adrian Freeman's going to start it off for his squad... and yes, Tin Can Rust has managed to get City Jack out of the ring so he can start the match. BW: That's the smart way to do it. City Jack's injured, he's hurt, and he can't be the usual contributor in there. BUT... at some point, Rust will have to tag him in and who knows what'll happen then. GM: That's for sure. [Marty Meekly signals for the bell as Tin Can Rust marches out of the corner to the middle of the ring, glaring at Adrian Freeman who is taking a few last words from Dufresne before walking out to the middle as well.] GM: We've got ourselves a staredown! Right in the middle of the ring! BW: Adrian Freeman has no fear of a man bigger than him. Everyone he's ever fought has been bigger than him... [The Australian is full of fire, running his mouth in the direction of the champ... ...and then makes the mistake of jabbing a finger in the chest of Tin Can Rust, eating a hooking haymaker to the jaw that knocks him flat in response!] GM: Ohh! What a right hand by Tin Can Rust! [Freeman scoots back to the corner, hands raised in defense as Rust stalks over him, waiting to take another shot... ...and then lunges forward in a double leg takedown, fighting for it, and then managing to trip Rust, knocking him down to the mat where Freeman crawls across him, frantically throwing fists at the face of the veteran.] GM: Freeman showing some of those technicial skills. We saw Shane Destiny and Pure X out here a little earlier and we talked about them perhaps being the best technicians in the game. Well, this is the other man in that argument. [Scrambling to his feet, Freeman throws stomp after stomp after stomp down on Tin Can Rust. He reaches down, hauling Rust to his feet and blasting him with a back elbow to put TCR against the ropes.] GM: Whip by the challenger... no, reversed! [The Australian hits the ropes, rebounding off the other side... ...and a BIIIIIIIIG backdrop sends Freeman flying through the air before he crashes down to the canvas in a heap!] GM: Ohhh my! Freeman was up in the lights on that one! [Freeman staggers up to his feet by the ropes... ...and a running clothesline takes the Australian over the ropes and down to the floor! Huge cheer!] GM: Oh yeah! Tin Can Rust dumps him over the top to the floor! BW: And this is Unsanctioned... so Rust could follow him out there and wallop him with a chair, choke him with a camera cable, smash him with the ring bell... anything goes in this one! GM: It looks like Rust is staying in the ring though. He's glaring out over the ropes at Freeman but he's not following him out there for the fight. Not yet at least. [Out on the apron, City Jack drops down to the floor, quickly moving around the corner to where Freeman is down on the barely-padded concrete... ...and snatches Freeman off the floor, cracking him with a right hand to a big cheer!] GM: Whoa! City Jack's taking the fight to Freeman on the floor! [He grabs Freeman by the hair, slamming his face into the ring apron as Marty Meekly shouts for Jack to get back to his corner. An angry Jack shoves Freeman under the ropes where Tin Can Rust is waiting with a series of stomps to the body.] GM: Rust dragging Freeman up off the mat, shoving him back into a neutral corner... [Rust steps back, throwing a hooking punch to the body. A second one lands as well, causing a dull "SMACK!" to echo through the building before Rust throws a back elbow into the corner.] GM: Good grief! Rust is all over him and Adrian Freeman may be regretting getting into this match right now. Rust drags him out of the corner... [The veteran hoists Freeman into the air, slamming him down on the mat... ...and points a warning finger at Calisto Dufresne before stomping down hard on the head of Freeman.] GM: He's sending a message to Dufresne... telling him this is coming for him too... [With Freeman on the mat, Rust hops up, dropping an elbow down across the chest before rolling over into a lateral press.] GM: There's one! Two! [Freeman fires a shoulder off the mat at two. City Jack shouts a few words from the corner at his partner who looks over, shaking his head at the master of the Metroboom.] GM: I think Jack just told Rust not to cover him yet. We know how much Tin Can Rust loves those tag titles and how much he wants to keep them. They've held those titles for close to a full year now, Bucky, and Tin Can Rust wants to keep them even longer. BW: Yeah, but City Jack wants to punish these guys. He wants to hurt them like they hurt him. Can you really blame him? GM: I can understand his feelings but at the end of the day, they need to keep the titles so Rust is doing the right thing. [Rust drags Freeman off the mat, shoving him back to the neutral corner... ...and POPS Freeman across the chest with a big chop!] GM: Ohh! Big chop by the champ... [Grabbing Freeman by the hair, Rust hauls him out of the corner, firing him across the ring...] GM: The Australian off the ropes... ducks the clothesline... [And gets CREAMED with a right hand from City Jack to a big cheer!] GM: Jack caught him! Haha! And these fans are loving it! BW: Who cares what the fans think?! Freeman needs to make the tag to the Ladykiller! Get him out of there! [The camera catches Rust shaking his head at his partner again as Jack extends his hand, calling for the tag.] GM: City Jack wants the tag but I think... it looks like Tin Can Rust isn't so willing to do that. He's trying to protect his partner from further injury and who can blame him for that, Bucky? BW: How much longer is Jack going to tolerate being handled though? [Rust drags Freeman off the mat again, firing him into the neutral corner. City Jack shouts in Rust's direction, actually drawing TCR's attention for a moment before he charges in... ...and runs RIGHT into the buckles as Freeman sidesteps the charge!] GM: Ohh! Rust hits the buckles! BW: That was City Jack's fault! Jack caused him to hesitate on the charge to the corner and Rust paid the price for it! GM: Rust is dazed and... [Freeman THROWS himself into a huge Lariat that knocks Rust off his feet, taking him down to the mat. The Australian pushes up to his knees, shaking his head before crawling over to slap the hand of Calisto Dufresne to the jeers of the crowd.] GM: And for the first time in this one, here comes the Ladykiller. [Dufresne immediately goes to work with kicks to the ribs of Rust, over and over to the right side of the body. He winds up and drops a knee in the same spot, pressing his weight down on the knee into the ribcage.] GM: Dufresne's going after the ribs of the champion. BW: He's trying to take the air out of him... trying to force him to bring City Jack into the match... GM: The Ladykiller's back to his feet... [A hard stomp to the ribs sends a shout up from Tin Can Rust. Dufresne smirks as he stalks around his downed prey, circling him... ...and then drives another hard stomp into the ribs. City Jack shouts encouragement to his partner from across the ring, clapping his hands to try to rally his friend.] GM: Jack's trying to get his partner up... trying to rally him and- [And Dufresne takes the opportunity to mock City Jack, clapping his hands just like Jack did a moment prior... ...which brings City Jack into the ring, full of fire as he tries to get to Dufresne.] GM: Here comes Jack! Here comes- no! The referee cut him off! BW: Let him go! This is Unsanctioned! [Marty Meekly manages to get between Jack and Dufresne, wrapping his arms around Jack's waist and trying to keep him at bay. A grinning Dufresne waves "goodbye" to Jack before leaping up and dropping another knee down into the ribcage of Tin Can Rust.] GM: Dufresne is such a pompous jerk, Bucky. I'm sorry but it's true. BW: He never denied that, Gordo. GM: Kneeling on the ribs now... [Balling up his fist, Dufresne slams down hammerfist blows into the ribcage over and over... and then a straight punch to the ribs to polish off the attack. The Ladykiller gets back to his feet, smirking at City Jack who has been removed from the ring.] "This one's for you, Jack!" [And delivers a PUNISHING punt kick to the ribcage that causes Rust to roll under the ropes to the ring apron.] GM: Rust is out on the apron now... [Dufresne quickly dashes to the ropes, bouncing off, and dropping down into a baseball slide that connects with the same injured ribs, knocking Rust off the apron and down to the floor where Adrian Freeman quickly joins him, stomping and kicking the ribs as well.] GM: Come on, referee! BW: Unsanctioned! GM: I know, but, there's gotta be some enforcement of the rules, doesn't there? [Out on the floor, Freeman hauls Rust off the barely-padded concrete, wrapping his arms around the waist... ...and DRIVES Rust spinefirst into the ring apron!] GM: Ohhh! [With Rust leaning against the apron, Calisto Dufresne unravels a strip of white tape from his wrist, leaning through the ropes to loop it around Rust's throat!] GM: Oh, come on! [The referee protests as Dufresne pulls up on the tape, effectively strangling Tin Can Rust while Freeman continues to throw forearm smashes to the body of the veteran.] GM: Rust is being doubleteamed with a vicious assault by Dufresne and Freeman! The challengers have come to fight as well! [After a bit, Dufresne releases the tape allowing Rust to slump down to his knees on the floor. Across the ring, City Jack pleads with his partner to get back to his feet.] GM: Freeman's still out on the floor with Rust, dragging him up now... [He grabs Rust by the wrist, FIRING him into the steel barricade with an Irish whip!] GM: Ohhh! Rust hits the steel right there! [Freeman climbs back up on the apron as Dufresne steps through the ropes, dropping down to the floor... ...and kicking a wide open Rust in the ribs!] GM: Good grief! This is an out and out assault on the ribs and back of Tin Can Rust by the challengers and City Jack is living and dying with every blow in the corner! [Dufresne strikes a boxer pose, bobbing and weaving to mock the crowd as he throws looping hooks to the injured ribs over and over and over. After a bit, he pulls Rust off the railing by the hair, dragging him over to the ringpost and shoving him back against it.] GM: What in the world is he doing now? [Leaning over, Dufresne rushes in and DRIVES his shoulder into the ribs of Rust, smashing him back against the steel!] GM: Ohhh! BW: He's gonna break Rust in half... and then count his rings to see how old he REALLY is! GM: Would you stop? [Dufresne backs off, ready to strike again but Rust is doubled up. He waves his hand, shouting "Get up!" to the man who is one-half of the National Tag Team Titles but Rust stays down, actually falling to a knee.] GM: Rust can't even stand up out there on the floor right now... [A disgusted Dufresne moves in, yanking Rust off the mat by the hair... ...and EATING a right hand for his efforts, getting knocked down to the thin padding! Big cheer!] GM: And I think Tin Can Rust might have been playing a little bit of possum, Bucky! [Stepping forward, Rust grabs the legs of Dufresne under his arms and falls back with them, catapulting Dufresne up... ...and RIGHT into the steel ringpost!] GM: OHHH! DUFRESNE TO THE STEEL!! [The Ladykiller is stunned, clinging to the ringpost to stay on his feet as Rust slowly gets up, clutching his ribs. Grabbing Dufresne by the trunks, he fires him under the ropes before climbing back up on the apron.] GM: Rust is on the apron... [But before he can get back in, Freeman races down the apron and clubs him with a forearm to the back of the head. A couple more blows follow before Freeman grabs the top rope and jerks back on it, snapping Rust off the apron... ...and down into a heap on the floor!] GM: OHHHHHHHHH! BW: I love it! Kentucky's Pride, even in an Unsanctioned match seem to have trouble breaking the rules but Freeman and Dufresne... this is like a new level of freedom for them! Dufresne was in trouble but Freeman just saved him and put Rust down and down HARD, daddy! GM: Tin Can Rust got snapped back off the ring apron and hit that thinly-padded concrete VERY hard! And the National Tag Team Champions are in some serious trouble at this stage in the match. [Freeman drops down to the floor, dragging Rust to his feet and rolling him under the ropes where he shouts at Dufresne to make a cover. A dazed Dufresne dives across Rust in a lateral press.] GM: ONE!! TWO!! [The crowd breathes a collective sigh of relief as City Jack slips in and buries a forearm on the back of Dufresne's neck to break the pin... ...and sticks around to throw a few more right hands at the Ladykiller before Marty Meekly intervenes once more, forcing City Jack away from Dufresne and back to the corner... ...which allows Adrian Freeman to illegally enter the match, kicking Rust repeatedly in the ribs before making his exit again.] GM: The referee was distracted and that allowed Freeman to do some damage... [Pushing off the mat, Dufresne delivers a few kicks of his own before dragging Rust by the foot to the corner where he slaps the hand of Freeman.] GM: There's the tag by the challengers... Freeman back into the match legally now... [A hard kick to the ribs forces Rust to roll over to his stomach where Freeman drops a knee down in the spine. Kneeling on the lower back, he reaches over to grab a handful of Rust's face, yanking back into a modified surfboard.] GM: Ohh! This is a very painful hold for Rust to be in - especially with the injuries to the ribs and back he's suffered in this match so far. BW: Listen to him screaming at Rust to quit... demanding he give it up... GM: There's no way... no chance that Kentucky's Pride submit to these jackals... [After a few more moments, Freeman climbs to his feet, glaring at Rust who finally starts to try and crawl to his corner where City Jack is waiting.] GM: And for the first time, we see Tin Can Rust looking to his corner, knowing he needs to make a tag to City Jack... [City Jack slaps the top turnbuckle, shouting encouragement to his partner as Rust continues to crawl... ...until a leaping elbowdrive to the kidneys cuts him off!] GM: Ohh! Another hard shot to the lower back by Adrian Freeman! [And with Rust already on his belly, Freeman straddles him facing away, reaching down to grab the legs and crank back in a Boston Crab!] GM: Boston Crab! The Boston Crab is applied by Freeman! And if he drops down to a knee, putting even more pressure on the spine, it'll be the Deep Freeze - something we've seen him finish off a lot of opponents with. BW: If he slaps on the Deep Freeze, we've got new National Tag Team Champions, daddy! GM: You could be right about that! [Freeman cranks back, screaming with effort as he tries to wrench the back even more but Rust is fighting it every step of the way, using his powerful legs to push back, avoiding giving Freeman enough leverage to drop down to a knee and sink in the Deep Freeze!] GM: Rust is fighting it... this veteran... this warrior... he's fighting the Boston Crab! BW: Freeman continues to scream at him to quit... ordering him to give it up... GM: But Rust isn't doing it! Rust is crawling... inching closer to his partner! [The crowd roars as Rust drags Freeman across the ring, his fingernails digging into the canvas as he pulls his body closer and closer to his waiting friend and partner...] GM: These fans are on their feet, cheering him on... trying to inspire him to get there... [But when he gets too close, Freeman simply turns the Crab over... ...and drags him by both legs across the ring towards their own corner where he slaps the hand of Calisto Dufresne.] GM: Well, there's a tag but it's not the tag these fans wanted to see. [Freeman pulls Rust off the mat, blasting him with a forearm to the jaw that knocks him back to the buckles as Dufresne comes in. The Ladykiller pulls Rust out of the corner and into a double underhook.] GM: What's he going for here...? [Dufresne hoists Rust into the air, flipping him over, and dropping him DOWN across a bent knee!] GM: Ohhh! Some kind of double underhook into a backbreaker! BW: That might do it! GM: We've got one! We've got two! And ohhhh so close but Rust gets the shoulder up at two! [An angry Dufresne throws a few clenched fists to the jaw before climbing back to his feet. He points at City Jack before leaning down to drag Rust back to his feet, whipping him into the neutral corner. With a pump of his fist, Dufresne charges across the ring, hopping up to the midbuckle where he mocking pumps his fist again before throwing right hands at the skull of Rust.] BW: Haha! Dufresne is counting off his punches in the corner! GM: He's the only one. He thinks this is funny but he's the only one laughing. BW: I thought it was funny. GM: Why am I not surprised by that? [At the count of ten, he pauses, mockingly trying to rally the fans... ...which allows Rust just a heartbeat of time to duck out from under Dufresne, reaching up to grab the back of the trunks, and HURL him down off the ropes and onto the back of his head on the canvas!] GM: Oh yeah! Oh yeah! Rust puts him down hard! BW: He pulled the tights! GM: Whatever it takes in this one, Bucky... whatever it takes.... BW: I'll remember you said that! [Rust immediately falls to all fours, looking up at his friend and partner who still has his hand outstretched. With the crowd roaring for the exchange, Rust starts to crawl across the ring once more. On the other side of the ring, Dufresne rolls over to his stomach, also trying to crawl across the ring and make the tag.] GM: And we've got a race on our hands! Who can make the tag first? BW: Dufresne's closer to the corner! GM: But these fans are solidly behind Kentucky's Pride! They want to see City Jack in there so badly! They want to see him exact some payback on these two jackals! [With the roaring crowd on their feet, Rust draws closer and closer...] GM: TAG! Dufresne brings in Freeman! [The Australian stumbles coming through the ropes in a hurry, sprinting across the ring to... ...an ENORMOUS CHEER as Tin Can Rust makes a DIVING tag!] GM: HEEEEEEERE WE GO! [City Jack enters the ring, fire in his eyes. Adrian Freeman immediately throws on the brakes, trying to backpedal... ...and getting MOWED over with a running clothesline from City Jack!] GM: Freeman goes down and- [Jack approaches the challengers' corner, reaching over the top rope to yank Dufresne to his feet on the apron... ...and hiptosses him over the ropes into the ring as well!] GM: He brings Dufresne in the hard way! [A fired-up City Jack leans down to slap the canvas with both hands and then points right at a kneeling, pleading Dufresne!] GM: Now you want mercy? Now you want forgiveness?! [Jack shakes his head, approaching Dufresne... ...who springs to his feet, trying to throw a right hand but has it blocked and countered with a right hand of his own!] GM: Ohh! Big haymaker by City Jack! [A series of haymakers knocks Dufresne back into the corner where Jack grabs him by the arm, whipping him from corner to corner, and charging in after him... ...where he slightly leaps at the last moment, crushing Dufresne in the corner with a big splash!] GM: OHHHH! RUNNING CORNER SPLASH!! [Pumped up, Jack does a little jig before pulling Freeman off the mat, whipping him to the opposite neutral corner, and charging right in again... ...SQUASHING Freeman in the buckles with another running splash!] GM: Dufresne and Freeman are getting rocked by City Jack and he's all over the place in there! [Jack promptly hops up to the midbuckle over Dufresne, pumping a clenched fist before raining punches down on the nefarious Ladykiller!] "ONE!" "TWO!" "THREE!" "FOUR!" "FIVE!" "SIX!" "SEVEN!" "EIGHT!" "NINE!" "TEN!" [Jack hops down off the midbuckle, leaving a dazed Dufresne in the corner... ...and then points at Freeman to the roar of the crowd. He marches across the ring, stepping up to the second rope again.] "ONE!" "TWO!" "THREE!" "FOUR!" "FIVE!" "SIX!" "SEVEN!" "EIGHT!" "NINE!" "TEN!" [And then drops back down, grinning at the reaction of the crowd. He grabs Freeman by the back of the head, dragging him out of the corner... ...and HURLING him over the top rope and down to the floor!] GM: OHHH! HE CLEARS OUT FREEMAN! [Marching across the ring, he grabs Dufresne by the hair as well... ...and HURLS him over the top rope, right out on top of his partner!] GM: The challengers have been cleared from the ring by City Jack and- BW: This could be a HUGE mistake! GM: City Jack's going out after them! [Tearing through the ropes, City Jack drops down to the barely-padded concrete. He reaches down to drag both men back to their feet... ...and SMASHES their skulls together to the cheers of the crowd! Freeman stumbles away, falling to his knees near the timekeeper's table while Dufresne falls back into the barricade.] GM: Jack's on a rampage, Bucky! BW: I may not like the man but you gotta understand his thinking tonight. These two tried to take his eye... take his vision... take his livelihood. Of course you're going to do whatever it takes to get even. [Moving over to Freeman, Jack yanks him up by the hair, and SLAMS his face into the ringside table! With Freeman laid out across the table, Jack spins around to move towards Dufresne.] GM: Jack's taking them both on at the same time! Rust is hurting and his partner is all over both of their challengers... [Jack grabs Dufresne by the wrist and with a quick gesture of his hand, he has some ringside photographers clear out before he goes for an Irish whip...] GM: Irish whi- reversed by Dufresne! [The big whip by Dufresne sends Jack smashing into the ringside steel barricade, leaning against the metal as Dufresne drops to a knee, trying to catch a breather.] GM: Jack hits the railing hard... here comes the Ladykiller! [With a head of steam, Dufresne tears across the ringside area, racing towards the stunned Jack... ...who drops his head down HURLING the Ladykiller over the barricade and down into a heap in the crowd at ringside!] GM: OHHHH! INTO THE CROWD! [The crowd continues to roar as Jack collapses to a knee inside the railing while Dufresne lies motionless just beyond the barricade, ringside fans barraging him with harsh words and more than a few beverages.] GM: City Jack dropped his head and threw Dufresne into the crowd, Bucky! BW: Well, this match is Unsanctioned so anything goes out there but I'm not too sure that City Jack wants this match to be THAT much of a street fight. He's still a badly injured competitor that becomes a lot more vulnerable outside the ring. [Getting back to his feet, Jack steps over the railing, moving in on his fallen rival... ...who POPS up, driving a balled fist into the groin of the Kentucky native!] GM: OHHH! LOW BLOW, BUCKY! BW: Anything goes! Unsanctioned, daddy! GM: That'll drop anyone in the game and City Jack is down on his knees from that one. Calisto Dufresne was waiting for him and made him pay the price for coming out after him. [The Ladykiller grabs Jack by the head, dragging him over towards a vacated steel chair... ...and SMASHES Jack's skull into the chairseat!] GM: Facefirst to the steel! Dufresne drives him to the steel! [Leaving Jack's face draped on the seat of the chair, Dufresne steps up onto the adjacent seat, looking out over the jeering crowd... ...and STOMPS on the back of the head, driving Jack's face into the steel again!] GM: Oh, come on! BW: Hey, City Jack would be doing the EXACT same thing if he had the chance, Gordo. GM: You could be right, Bucky, but right now it's Calisto Dufresne doing the damage. Two shots into that steel chair... either of which could have gone right after that injured eye. BW: All's fair when the National Tag Team Titles are on the line. [Still standing on the chair, Dufresne smirks at the reaction of the crowd and shouts out "ONE MORE TIME?"] GM: Look at this guy... trying to get under the skin of the crowd now... [The Ladykiller raises his boot again, holding it high to taunt the crowd... ...but as he brings it down, City Jack rolls over, catching the foot in his hands!] GM: Jack caught him! Jack caught the foot! [Dufresne struggles against City Jack's grip, trying to free himself... ...but Jack pushes up, shoving Dufresne off-balance and sending him spilling over the row of seats and into the next!] GM: Oh yeah! Jack upends Dufresne! [And immediately dives on top of him, throwing right hands as quickly as he can on Dufresne's skull. The Ladykiller is sprawled out over a row of seats, fans all around screaming for City Jack as he pummels his most hated enemy.] GM: Listen to these fans! They're on their feet screaming for City Jack as he feeds Dufresne a knuckle sandwich time and time again out in the crowd! [Grabbing Dufresne by the hair, Jack SLAMS the back of his head into the seat of the chair!] GM: Good grief! [Still holding the hair, Jack repeats the act, sending a loud "CLANG!" into the air from the impact. Jack climbs off the chair, pulling Dufresne up a bit, and then draping his throat across the back of the chair...] GM: He's choking Dufresne on the chair! [The camera spins around Dufresne, seeing a rapidly turning red face as the Ladykiller struggles against City Jack who continues to strangle him on top of the metal chair... ...and then DRIVES an elbow down to the back of the neck, smashing the throat against the steel.] GM: Dufresne's getting a little of his own medicine tonight at SuperClash, Bucky. BW: Well, I hope the Ladykiller was ready for a fight like this because City Jack's bringing the fight to him so far in this one. GM: Jack hauls him up by the hair again... ohh! What a right hand! [The impact of the haymaker sends Dufresne stumbling away, down the row of seats towards the entrance aisleway.] GM: Dufresne gets popped and Jack's in hot pursuit... [Another huge haymaker sends Dufresne falling backwards a few more steps, clearing the row of seats and leaning against the thin rope diving the crowd from the aisle as Jack follows him there.] GM: The Ladykiller's on his feet but he looks like he's starting to- OHHH! Another right hand! [The impact of this hooking haymaker sends Dufresne sprawling over the rope, crashing to a heap on the floor... ...where Jack yanks him to a seated position, looping the aisle rope around his neck!] GM: Whoa! City Jack has snapped! [The crowd roars as Jack pulls up hard on the rope, leaving red welts behind where the rope is rubbing against the neck and throat of Dufresne. The Ladykiller tries to slip his fingers under the rope, trying to take away some of the leverage that the big Kentuckian is putting to good use.] GM: Jack's trying to strangle Dufresne! Maybe all those attacks on City Jack aren't seeming like such a good idea to Calisto Dufresne anymore, Bucky! BW: You're probably right on that one. Where in the world is Adrian Freeman in all this?! [Jack releases the rope after a bit, pulling the gasping Dufresne back to his feet, hooking him under the arm... ...and HURLING him through the air in a hiptoss, throwing him down onto the row of steel chairs!] GM: OHHHHHH! BW: That'll send you straight to the chiropractor, daddy! GM: It certainly will and I can barely hear myself think right now, Bucky! These fans are going absolutely nuts for everything that City Jack does! [Working his way through the crowd, Jack grabs the downed Dufresne by the hair, yanking him off the chairs and into the aisle... ...where the Australian, Adrian Freeman, is waiting to blindside Jack with a lunging forearm to the back of the head!] GM: Ohhh! And you asked where Adrian Freeman is... I think we just got an answer to that... BW: We certainly did and a brilliant sense of timing for Freeman! GM: Freeman's all over Jack, stomps and kicks to the head... [After a bit of stomping, the Australian grabs Dufresne and together, they hoist Jack back to his feet, dragging him towards the ringside barricade.] GM: It looks like the challengers are trying to get Jack back in there now... [Near the railing, they both hook Jack under the arm, hiptossing him over the barricade and onto the thin padding at ringside!] GM: Ohhh! Down HARD on the back! And now the two challengers are climbing over- wait a second! [An elderly ringside fan rises from his aisle seat, screaming at Dufresne, waving his wooden cane back and forth...] BW: Hey look! Dave Cooper's out at ringside! GM: Would you stop? [The Ladykiller turns his attention away from Jack for a moment... ...and SHOVES the fan in the chest, knocking him backwards into a couple of other fans who get right up in the Ladykiller's face as well!] GM: We could have a situation out here, fans. We may need to get- [Smirking, Dufresne leans over to snatch up the fallen wooden cane, pointing it at the elderly fan before hurdling the railing, taking the cane with him.] GM: Dufresne just stole that fan's cane! BW: The old man had it coming. He's lucky that's all that happened to him. [With Dufresne trailing behind, Freeman fires City Jack under the bottom rope, rolling in behind him. The Ladykiller climbs up on the ring apron, stepping through the ropes, spinning the wooden cane round and round the jeers of the crowd.] GM: I don't like the looks of this one bit. [A quick cut reveals Tin Can Rust finally climbing back up on the ring apron, leaning over the ropes clutching his ribs as he shouts for his partner to make a tag.] GM: Tin Can Rust wants a tag but I'm not sure if that's a good idea. He doesn't look much better than Jack does, Bucky. BW: Both of these old-timers look to be a misstep away from tumbling into an open grave, daddy. GM: Wait a second... what in the world is he...? [The crowd buzzes with concern as Freeman hauls City Jack up to his feet, holding him steady by the back of the head, turning his face slightly to face Calisto Dufresne... ...who taps the cane on the canvas, imitating a blind man as he "tries to find" City Jack.] GM: Disgusting. BW: Kinda funny if you ask me. GM: Freeman's holding Jack... holding him there for- no! [Dufresne pauses, rearing back with the wooden cane... ...and SMASHES it down across the heavily bandaged eye of City Jack!] GM: OHHHHHH! BW: I think I heard that cane crack! GM: City Jack dropped like he'd been shot, Bucky! [The veteran crumples to the canvas, both arms immediately up over his face, trying to protect the eye. A smirking Calisto Dufresne walks around the downed City Jack, still clutching the cane as he glares down at his rival... ...totally oblivious as Tin Can Rust races into the ring!] GM: Rust is in! [Rust POPS an attacking Freeman with a right hand, knocking him off his feet. He spins around, hightailing it towards Dufresne... ...who bails from the ring JUST in time!] GM: That coward Dufresne bailed out of the ring... Tin Can Rust is LIVID! [Scampering to his feet, Freeman charges in again... ...and gets caught under the arm of Tin Can Rust who spins around in a full 360 before DRIVING Freeman down to the canvas with a sidewalk slam!] GM: OHHHH! CAN CRUSHER!! [Rust throws himself across Freeman, reaching back to hook the leg.] GM: ONE!! TWO!! THRE- OHHH! DUFRESNE BREAKS UP THE PIN!! [The Ladykiller immediately starts stomping and kicking the downed Tin Can Rust. He grabs Rust by the wrist, dragging him to his feet, and firing him into the ropes.] GM: Irish whip by Dufresne... boot to the gut... [Stepping into a front facelock, Dufresne sets for his finishing DDT... ...but Rust straightens up, backdropping the Ladykiller up and over!] GM: Oh my! What a counter by the champ and- [BIG CHEER!] GM: SLEEPER! RUST HOOKS THE SLEEPER! [Dufresne immediately starts firing his arms back and forth, trying to escape the tight sleeperhold applied by the tough and grizzled veteran.] GM: Rust is trying to cut off the flow of blood to the brain... trying to crimp that neck and put the Ladykiller down! BW: Dufresne needs to get out of this and he needs to do it fast! The referee has lost all sense of who is the legal man so he's counting pinfalls on Freeman one second and submissions on Dufresne the next! This is totally out of control! GM: Well, we knew it would be. This is Unsanctioned and anything and everything goes in this one! [With the crowd roaring, Rust swings Dufresne back and forth, trying to take all the wind out of his sails, trying to tighten his grip on the AWA National Tag Team Titles.] GM: Rust has him in the middle of the ring! Marty Meekly is right there to check... he's trying to check on Dufresne but Rust is swingin' him around like a rag doll! BW: This is bad! This is real bad! GM: Tin Can Rust has those big arms around the neck and- "CRAAAAAAAAAAAACK!" "OHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" GM: HE BROKE THE CANE!! HE BROKE THE CANE!! [Adrian Freeman stands tall over a downed Tin Can Rust and Calisto Dufresne, holding half of a broken wooden cane in his hand. Even the Australian looks a little surprised at the wooden cane splitting when he bashed Tin Can Rust across the back with it.] GM: Adrian Freeman broke the cane over the back of Tin Can Rust! BW: But more importantly, Gordo, he broke the sleeper as well! GM: He certainly did that and... wait a... no! [Yanking Rust back to his feet, Freeman hoists him up over his shoulder as a groggy Dufresne gets up, hooking a front facelock...] GM: NOOO! [Both men drop down, SPIKING Rust's skull into the canvas with an assisted version of the Wham Bam Thank You Ma'am!] BW: WHAM BAM THANK YOU MA'AM FOR THE NATIONAL TITLES! GM: That's it. That's gotta be it! [But before Freeman can even attempt a cover, Dufresne yanks Rust up by the arm... ...and HURLS him through the ropes to the floor!] GM: What the-?! I don't get it! [Dropping to his knees, Dufresne grabs City Jack by the back of the head, smashing his fist into the bandaged eye over and over.] GM: He's pounding that eye! The referee is right there... [A quick camera cut outside the ring shows AWA ringside doctor Dr. Bob Ponavitch taking a close interest in what's going on.] GM: The doctor is out there as well. He'll stop this if he needs to. BW: He may need to! GM: Another right hand to the eye! And another! The referee is telling him to open up his hand but he's got nothing to make Dufresne do that. BW: Freeman is just standing there and watching... I think he's a little in shock that Dufresne threw Rust to the floor. GM: If Kentucky's Pride comes back to win this, you can look back on that moment as the reason why. [Jack lifts his hands, trying to get Dufresne back... ...but the Ladykiller slams his fist down in a hammerfist motion a few times on the eye socket!] GM: Come on! [With a maddened howl, Dufresne grabs at the bandages - yanking, ripping, and tearing until the white gauze comes free. The Ladykiller gets to his feet, throwing the bandages aside.] GM: This is bad, fans. This is very, very bad. [Smirking at the jeers from the crowd, Dufresne measures the stunned City Jack... ...and STOMPS down hard on the eye!] GM: Ohh! BW: Calisto Dufresne's not gonna be happy with just the tag team titles tonight, Gordo. He wants another trophy! He wants City Jack's career! He wants City Jack's eye! [The roaring crowd is screaming bloody murder as Dufresne raises his boot again... ...and SMASHES it down on the injured eye again!] GM: Good grief! This is getting difficult to watch. BW: I think it's likely to get worse before it gets better. [Nodding to his partner, Dufresne backs off and gestures to Jack. Hands on his hips, Freeman shakes his head and then delivers a stomp of his own to the eye. A second stomp quickly follows much to the dismay of the crowd.] GM: And now it's Freeman going after the eye as well! [Backing up, Freeman takes two steps, leaps into the air... ...and DROPS his knee down solidly on the eyesocket of City Jack, a move that sends a howl of pain from the Kentucky native into the air.] GM: Ohhh! [Freeman stays on his knees, applying a lateral press.] GM: One! Two! Th- [Big cheer from the crowd as City Jack powers out of the pin attempt!] GM: City Jack's not done yet! He's not done yet! [An annoyed Freeman grabs Jack by the back of the head, holding it in place as he drives fist after fist after fist into the eye... ...and Dufresne swoops in with another hard stomp to the eye to polish off the attack.] GM: This is an absolutely brutal attack on the eye by these two men. They're torturing this man! [The camera cuts to the floor where Tin Can Rust has pushed up to all fours, clutching the back of his neck.] GM: Rust is starting to stir on the floor. That DDT took a lot out of him plus the punishment he's taken all match... I'm surprised he's even moving, Bucky. BW: You and me both, Gordo. [We cut back inside the ring where Dufresne drags City Jack by the arm to the corner. Letting go, he backs to the corner where he hops up to the second rope... ...and leaps off, DRIVING his fist down on the eye again!] GM: Middle rope fistdrop! The Ladykiller rocked him there! [Dufresne applies another lateral press as the referee drops down to count.] GM: One!! Two!! Thr- shoulder up! Shoulder up! [This time it's Dufresne who is irate at the kickout, smashing the eye again with a haymaker. Up on his knees, he lunges forward, driving the point of his elbow into the eye!] GM: Ohhh! Come on! BW: What do you want the ref to do, Gordo? It's Unsanctioned! GM: I know it's Unsanctioned but there's gotta be something... wait a second here... [A suddenly-focused Dufresne grabs the broken cane off the canvas, holding it up... ...and staring right at the splintered end.] GM: Oh no. BW: And this entire building just realized what he plans on doing! GM: He can't do this! BW: Unsanctioned! GM: I know that but... come on, Bucky... even Dufresne can't do this! BW: Oh, I think he can! [Reaching down, Dufresne hauls Jack into a seated position right in front of him. Across the ring, Tin Can Rust has pulled himself to his feet, leaning against the ropes as he tries to get into the ring as a smirking Dufresne raises the splintered cane... ...and JABS it down into the eye area!] GM: OHHHHHH! [The crowd roars with disgust as Jack flails back and forth on the mat, hands locked over his eye as he tries to get away from Dufresne. A bark from the Ladykiller gets Freeman on the mat as well, pinning Jack's arms to the mat as Dufresne raises the cane again...] "PAY ATTENTION, OLD MAN!" [And STABS the cane down into the eye area again!] GM: This has GOT to stop! We need to get someone in there to stop this! BW: It can't be done! There's no way to stop this man! This match is Unsanc- GM: Damn it, Bucky! I know it's Unsanctioned! But this isn't right. This isn't right at all, damn it! [Bucky goes silent at Gordon's shocking outburst. The crowd is buzzing with concern for City Jack as his injured eye starts to trickle blood from the corner of it as Dufresne raises the cane again... ...and this time actually DRIVES the cane into the eye, pushing it into the injured flesh as City Jack screams out in pain, crying, begging, screaming for mercy!] "QUIT! QUIT, YOU SON OF A BITCH!" [A screaming Dufresne is almost louder than City Jack as he demands that the veteran give up, submit away the National Tag Team Titles.] GM: Dufresne wants him to give up... begging for him to give up but City Jack is not about to do that. He's not about to do that, Bucky. BW: He may not have a choice, Gordo! At this point, it's the titles or the eye! Dufresne wants the titles but he'll take the eye as a consolation prize if it means driving City Jack out of this sport forever! [Still pushing the cane down, Dufresne is completely livid, screaming at Jack to quit - almost in disbelief that City Jack has yet to give it up. Finally, Dufresne gives up, throwing the cane aside. He walks away from the downed and slightly bloody Jack leaving him behind for Freeman. The Australian flips Jack to his stomach, facing him towards Tin Can Rust who has finally gotten up on the apron... ...and SMASHES the eyesocket with a crossface!] GM: Ohhh! What a shot! [Freeman shouts at Rust "QUIT FOR HIM!"] GM: The Australian wants Rust to quit FOR City Jack! BW: Interesting strategy. GM: Another crossface! And another! [Blow after blow lands on the bloodied eye as the Australian continues to pummel him, shouting at Rust after every blow... ...which finally draws Tin Can Rust into the ring!] GM: Rust is in and- [Freeman throws Jack down to the mat, rushing across to DRILL Rust with a clothesline that knocks the veteran down to the canvas again. A few stomps make sure he stays there as the Australian walks away, moving to grab City Jack again.] GM: Freeman drags City Jack off the mat... shoves him to Dufresne... [A still-fuming Dufresne slaps on the front facelock, nodding his head at the jeering crowd, preparing to spike him into the canvas.] GM: He's calling for it! BW: WHAM! BAM! THANK YOU MA- GM: OHHHHH! [The crowd EXPLODES as City Jack straightens up at the last moment, backdropping Dufresne out of the front facelock and down to the canvas before collapsing down to a knee on the mat!] GM: Jack counters the DDT... BW: Freeman's looking to put him away now as well. GM: They really wanted to force a submission out of City Jack... well, Dufresne did at least. I think Freeman would have been satisfied with being one-half of the new National Tag Team Champions but Dufresne wanted to put his rival on the shelf for good. [Freeman pulls Jack off the mat... ...and EATS a Metropill forearm that knocks him back into the buckles where Jack lunges forward CRUSHING Freeman with a clothesline!] GM: Freeman staggers out of the corner... [Into the waiting arms of City Jack who hooks him around the waist in a bearhug... ...then powers him up before bellyflopping into the Metroboom!] GM: OHHHHH! METROBOOM!! HE GOT IT!! [Jack collapses to the canvas after hitting the belly-to-belly suplex, completely exhausted and unable to make a cover of his prone opponent.] GM: City Jack can't make a cover! He hit the Metroboom but he can't make the cover on Freeman! [Staggering back to his feet, Tin Can Rust wobbles across the ring, throwing himself across the downed Freeman.] GM: ONE!! TWO!! THRE- OHHHHHH! BW: Freeman got the shoulder up! The delay in making the cover was all Adrian Freeman needed to get off the canvas in time. He broke that pin attempt and saved the challenge for the tag team titles! It's not over yet! GM: But Rust isn't done! Rust is helping his partner up off the mat, dragging City Jack to his feet. He's trying to give Jack some instructions... trying to get his partner to work with him... [A dazed City Jack nods his head at his partner, pulling Freeman off the mat... ...and applying another bearhug!] GM: Wait a second! Jack's got the bearhug... he lifts him up... [Which gives Rust the cue to hit the ropes, racing across the ring...] GM: DARK AND BLOODY GROUN-OHHHHHHH! [At the last possible moment, Adrian Freeman reaches down and RAKES the injured eye, forcing Jack to release him. The Australian pulls Jack down as well, causing Rust to race past... ...and go sailing OVER the ropes and out to the floor!] GM: OHHHHH! RUST IS OUT AGAIN!! [Freeman grins at Rust sailing over the ropes to the floor as he drags Jack back to his feet... ...and gets POPPED with a Metropill that sends Freeman sailing back to the corner where he collapses to the canvas.] GM: Down goes Freeman! BW: But Jack's going for Dufresne! [Yanking the Ladykiller off the mat, Jack cracks him with a haymaker to the jaw. A few big hooking blows follow before Jack fires Dufresne across the ring... ...and BULLDOZING him with a running clothesline in the corner!] GM: OHHHHHHH! [City Jack pumps his arm up in the air... ...and BLASTS the eye area with the Metropill!] GM: OHH! Metropill to the eye! [Grabbing Dufresne by the hair, Jack throws him down to the mat and quickly yanks him into a seated position. He slaps his elbow before dropping down to a knee... ...and SLAMS that elbow into the eye!] GM: Payback! IS! HELLLLLLL! [With a roar, Jack raises the arm up, elbow pointed down and repeats the blow... elbow to the eye... elbow to the eye... elbow to the eye... elbow to the eye...] GM: IT'S EYE FOR AN EYE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE RING AT SUPERCLASH! BW: You talk about Kentucky's Pride being old school... well, right now City Jack is going Old Testament, daddy! GM: Another one! And another! And another! And another! [Dufresne's head rolls back limply, unable to defend himself as Dr. Bob Ponavitch takes a lonnnnnng look from out on the floor... ...when suddenly a lunging Adrian Freeman breaks up the assault!] GM: Ohhh! BW: Adrian Freeman may have just saved Calisto Dufresne's career! [With Jack stunned, Freeman dashes towards the ropes... ...only to have Tin Can Rust reach up and yank the top rope down, sending Freeman toppling over the ropes and out to the barely-padded concrete floor!] GM: OHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! [Jack gets to his feet slowly, looking out over the crowd. Nodding his head to their roars, he slaps his meaty forearm one more time as he leans over to pull Calisto Dufresne back off his knees...] "WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSH!" GM: WHAT THE-?! [The crowd ERUPTS in a stunned reaction as a giant fireball lights up the Dallas Memorial Auditorium, sailing out of the hands of Calisto Dufresne and squarely into the injured eye of City Jack!] BW: FIREBALL! FIREBALL! [City Jack collapses to the canvas SCREAMING in agony as he clutches at his eye. Seizing the moment, Dufresne dives atop Jack, quickly taking the mount and in a flurry of motion, starts throwing everything he's got at the eye - fists, hammerfists, elbows - anything that will land. He's an absolute non-stop sea of activity as he continues to pound and pummel his arch-rival.] GM: He burned him! He burned City Jack and now- BW: And now he's beating the hell out of him, Gordo! He's beating that eye right out of his skull! GM: Jack's trying to cover up... Jack's trying to protect himself... he's screaming in agony... my God, I can smell the burned flesh from here and- "DING! DING! DING!" [The crowd falls silent as the referee leaps up, waving his arms back and forth. A stunned Dufresne backs off, looking down in disbelief at City Jack, fists still balled up and covered in City Jack's blood. The referee quickly moves to Melissa Cannon's side and with a nod, she raises the mic.] MC: Ladies and gentlemen... your winners of the match as a result of a submission... [Dramatic pause.] MC: Annnnnd NEW AWA NATIONAL TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS... "THE LADYKILLER" CALISTO DUFRESNE AND ADRIAN FREEEEEEEEEEMAN! [The crowd EXPLODES in jeers as Adrian Freeman rolls under the bottom rope, barely able to stand as he moves towards his partner who is still glaring at City Jack. After a moment, Marty Meekly arrives with the two title belts, handing them over to the new champions.] GM: This can't be true. It can't be! BW: It is! We've got new champions! GM: By submission?! City Jack quit?! BW: Did he have a choice? He'd been burned and was having an eye that barely works just absolutely beaten! I said it earlier - the title or your eye - and I think City Jack has chosen wisely. [Adrian Freeman is absolutely ecstatic, clinging the title belt to his chest as he hops to the midbuckle. Dufresne stays stoic, the title belt slung over his shoulder as he stares at his bloodied and burned enemy.] GM: I don't know what to say, fans. I really don't. We need to get some- [The crowd cheers a bit as Tin Can Rust dives into the ring, crawling across the ring to cover up his partner, almost as if he's anticipating further attacks from the new champions.] GM: Rust is in... but it's too late. It's too late for City Jack. It's too late for this match. And it's too late for the AWA National Tag Team Titles, fans. We've got new tag team champions. The year-long reign of Kentucky's Pride has ended in the middle of the ring tonight at SuperClash and I... well, I'm in a state of shock to be honest. Fans, we'll be right- whoa! Whoa! [The crowd goes nuts as Tin Can Rust springs to his feet, having realized what has been done to his friend, and tears after the new champions, throwing fists as fast as he can... ...but a HARD shot to the side of the head with the title belt from Adrian Freeman knocks Rust down to the mat where Dufresne starts to stomp and kick him.] GM: Oh, come on! You've got the belts! You're the new champions! What more do you want? BW: They want to finish these two once and for all. GM: Freeman joins in - both of these men are stomping and kicking Tin Can Rust now and- oh no. [Calisto Dufresne walks across the ring, picking up the discarded cigarette lighter that he used moments ago to scorch the face of his enemy... ...and holds it high.] GM: He's got the lighter! He's going to do to Tin Can Rust what he just did to City Jack! This sick son of a- BW: Easy, Gordo. GM: I can't believe what we're seeing before our eyes, Gordon. This just can't happen! This just can't- [The crowd roars in a mixed reaction as Werewolf Gregorson comes charging down the aisle, diving headfirst under the bottom rope, sending Dufresne and Freeman fleeing.] GM: Werewolf Gregorson clears the ring but... BW: You're thinking it too. He cleared the ring but what if he's just there to put the finishing touches on it? GM: I hate to say it but the thought did cross my mind. [The former member of the Dead Pool glares at the retreating new champions from inside the ring before walking back across the ring, kneeling down to check on Tin Can Rust.] GM: Fans, we need to take a quick break! The Main Event is next so don't you dare go away! [Hold on a shot of a stunned Tin Can Rust looking up at Werewolf Gregorson for a moment and then fade to black... ...and then back up on a shot of the AWA National Title belt. The super-excited voice of Mark Stegglet is heard over it.] "You've seen it on Saturday Night Wrestling!" [A shot of Marcus Broussard with the belt over his shoulder.] "You've seen it on AWA supercards like Memorial Day Mayhem and The Last Stampede!" [A shot of Ron Houston wearing the belt in a promo picture.] "You've seen the best the AWA has to offer wearing it!" [Now a shot of Kolya Sudakov in a fighting pose with the belt hanging over his shoulder.] "And now, it can be yours!" [A shot of Stevie Scott holding the belt high in the air fades into a shot of a young fan doing the same.] "Available NOW on AWAShop.com, get the official replica of the AWA National Title belt that only the best and brightest of the AWA superstars have held!" [A closeup of the AWA National Title slowly fades to black... ...and then fades back up to live action where we open to a shot backstage, where we see Jason Dane standing outside a dressing room door. Standing beside him is the #1 contender to the AWA National title, Juan Vasquez. The man who would be champion is all smiles, dressed in a hooded version of his white w/ black trim tracksuit. He stands there with his hands on his hips, looking every bit confident and self-assured as the time for the match quickly approaches. Meanwhile, Dane begins to speak...] JD: Welcome back to SuperClash, fans! I'm standing here with the man who may very well be walking out of this building tonight as our new AWA National Champion. Juan Vasquez, in just a few moments, you'll be entering the ring to take on Stevie Scott, surrounded at all sides by his allies, albeit, restrained due to stipulations that you laid out for this match. Your thoughts at this time? [Juan motions for Dane to hando ver the microphone...which he reluctantly does. Juan blows into the microphone to make sure it's working, before raising it to his lips and shouting for all to hear...] JV: HAPPY THANKSGIVING, DALLAS!!! [From inside the venue, we hear the crowd respond with a massive cheer! Juan nods happily in approval at the reaction.] JV: Ya' know, today's exactly the right time to take a step back, reflect and just be grateful for the wonderful things in your life. No matter how big or small, there's gotta' be at least one thing you're thankful for. And even if things have been tough for you, it can't all be that bad, right? I mean, you're here tonight, ain't 'cha? You've been sitting here for 'bout two hours or so, watchin' some of the greatest athletes in the world excite, amaze and astound you, right? And heck, if you think what you've seen up 'til now was good... [He pauses for a split second and smirks at Dane, before leaning in towards the camera and promising us the world.] JV: ...you ain't seen nothing yet! [A sly grin.] JV: Now then, what am *I* thankful for? Well... [Juan looks up and taps a finger to his temple, pretending to think this over.] JV: I'm thankful for over-confident, short-sighted, condescendin' champions willing to throw caution to the wind and cave in to all o' my demands 'cause I managed to bruise their little ego! [Another cheer can be heard from the crowd. This seems to inspire Juan.] JV: I'm thankful for Ben Waterson giving me all the reason in the world to bound, gag, and lock his loudmouth self inside a cage! [Another cheer!] JV: I'm thankful for Gary Bright and the Bishop Boys for being all brawn, no brains and abso-freakin'-USELESS when attached to a ringpost! [And another! Juan's pretty fired up now.] JV: Stevie! I'm taking your brains and your muscle and I'm about to make 'em into a glorified cheerleading section! I'm taking your ego and smashing it into a million pieces! I've taken your confidence and shook it all up! I'm taking the AWA that you ruled with an iron fist...the world you left without a hero...I'm putting on my cape and I'm taking it back!!! [He strikes a Superman pose. Not quite Kal-El, but it'll do.] JV: I'm taking all of that from ya' Stevie! But...I ain't done taking from ya' just yet. Oh no no no! [He shakes his head furiously. He's taking more! More more more!] JV: In just a few minutes, I'm gonna' be taking the biggest prize of them all from ya', Stevie! The only thing to you that matters! I'm gonna' take the thing most important to you in all the world! [He looks to his left...and then to his right, before staring back into the camera. He motions for the cameraman to back up as the shot widens. With a smug look on his face, Juan then moves his hands to his hips and makes the "I want the belt!" motion.] JV: I'm gonna' be taking... [Smile.] ...your title. [HUGE POP! Juan cackles, before redirecting his attention back to the cameras.] JV: And you better believe...we're _all_ thankful for that! [As the crowd roars with approval in the background, Juan flips the microphone back to Jason Dane and walks off as we fade to another part of the building where Mark Stegglet is standing with "Agent To The Stars" Ben Waterson, "Gold Bomber" Gary Bright, and, of course, the AWA National Champion, "Hotshot" Stevie Scott. [Stegglet turns from the camera to the champ.] MS: Stevie, any final thoughts before tonight's title defense? [Stevie, in his ring gear and ready to go, pauses as if he's putting together his thoughts before answering. Then he slowly and quietly begins his answer.] HSS: So this is it, isn't it? Stevie Scott. Juan Vasquez. The belt on the line. The man who everyone thinks has the best chance yet to take the title off my waist. Everything going his way going into this match. You're probably feeling pretty good about your chances tonight, aren't you, Juan Vasquez. [Stevie removes his sunglasses, then points them at the camera.] HSS: But here, Juan, is the thing...the fly in the ointment of your plan, as it were. See, I've dealt with having the deck stacked against me time, after time, after time, after time. I've been down, counted out, not given a snowball's chance in hell, and guess what? I _still_ find a way to come out on top. So if you think all the stipulations in your favor tonight worry me? You'd be wrong. [A pause, a twist o' the bottom lip, a chuckle.] HSS: No, Juan, I don't have your resume. Trust me, though, when I say that is by _choice_. You know, I know, everyone knows that I have what it takes and then some to go onto the worldwide stage and do the exact same thing I've done here. [Stevie pauses, laughing somewhat arrogantly.] HSS: So if you think your resume intimidates me? You would...once again...be wrong. Now, I know you and a lot of other people probably thing I'm just a lot of hot air. A big mouth who hides behind his friends. But before you head out to the ring tonight, take a moment to think about _this_. I want you to think back...because I know you've been listening long before you decided to bite off more than you could chew with me...think back to everything I've said would happen in the last several months. And ask yourself one...simple...question. Have I ever been wrong? [Smirkage.] HSS: I said I'd beat the unbeatable Kolya Sudakov, and I did. I said I'd put Marcus Broussard and Adam Rogers out of wrestling, and I did. I said that Ben Waterson and I would put together the finest, most dangerous collection of wrestlers that has ever been seen in the business, and we are well on our way to doing just that. So when I say, Juan Vasquez, that you will NOT walk out of SuperClash with the AWA National Title on your shoulder? You can take _that_ to the bank. [Waterson smiles smugly and nods in the background.] HSS: Even with Ben here locked in a cage like some kind of rabid animal...even with the Gold Bomber and the Bishop boys handcuffed to the ring posts...don't forget that you still have to deal with _me_. Don't forget that. [Stevie pauses again, rubbing his neck.] HSS: Don't forget who almost made sure you didn't even _get_ to SuperClash just a few days ago. And don't forget who is ALWAYS going to be one step ahead of everyone else in the AWA. Including you. So with all that now firmly in your mind, Juan, there's only one thing left to say, isn't there, Ben? [Waterson steps forward to drop his catchphrase, grinning all the way.] ATTSBW: Consider. Yourselves. Warned. [Waterson's smirk suddenly vanishes as he looks off-camera. With a discrete shift of his head, Stegglet orders the cameraman to pan where a near army of security guards have arrived. A rather burly looking man leads the pack.] Burly Looking Man: Mr. Waterson. Mr. Bright. Please come with me. [Bright sneers as he looks ready to fight them all off. Stevie puts a hand on his shoulder.] HSS: It's okay, big man. I've got this. [And with that, the Bomber and the greatest mind in the business walk out of view with the security team and Mark Stegglet points to the camera.] MS: Let's go back to ringside with Gordon and Bucky! [We fade back to the ringside area where Gordon and Bucky are standing.] GM: Thanks, Mark... and after a long, long night of action, it is Main Event time here at SuperClash, Bucky. BW: All the talk, all the hype... it ENDS in just a few moments when the challenger Juan Vasquez steps into the squared circle with the champion "Hotshot" Stevie Scott! This is going to be one for the ages. GM: And before we go up to Melissa, I'm sure you have all noticed that we are WELL past our three hour time slot here on WKIK for SuperClash. That's right, fans... we are in OVERTIME here at the biggest event of the year and on behalf of everyone here at the AWA, we want to thank WKIK for keeping us out here until the show is over. We will be right here until there's a winner, fans. Now, let's go up to the ring to Melissa Cannon! [We fade up to the ring where Melissa Cannon is standing.] MC: The following contest is scheduled for one fall with a sixty minute time limit and it is for the AWA National Title! [BIG CHEER!] MC: At this time, if you will turn your attention to the aisleway where AWA security and the Dallas Police Department are escorting The Bishop Boys, Gary Bright, and Ben Waterson to the ring. [The crowd jeers as the aforementioned four men come walking down the aisle, indeed surrounded on all sides by AWA security and armed police officers. Cletus Lee seems to be drawing a lot of attention from the armed policemen who constantly have a hand on their weapon as he looks back and forth. Ben Waterson is shouting at anyone in sight - security, AWA officials, fans, whoever is near.] GM: Here they come, Bucky... but they're certainly not coming quietly. BW: Did you expect them to? These stipulations that Vasquez has put in place... they're... they're... GM: Completely fair? BW: They're humiliating! They're degrading! They're disrespectful! Ben Waterson is one of the greatest minds our sport has ever seen and he's being treated like some kind of animal you'd find on display down at the local zoo! The Bishop Boys went to Hell and back earlier tonight and they have to be handcuffed! And Gary Bright? He's injured! The man has an injured arm! They're gonna handcuff him too?! GM: They all knew what they were getting into coming into tonight. They all knew this was how this night would end. And they all have it coming, Bucky. BW: I can't believe you'd say that. [The four men get closer to the ring, reaching the ringsteps. Waterson is the first to try and make a break for it, spinning to run back up the aisle... ...but a bulky security guard stands in his path, refusing to let him pass. That brings in the Gold Bomber who looks ready to throw down with the guard until two police officers, nightsticks in hand, step into his path.] BW: This is awful! Blatant intimidation tactics being used by these cops! What right does Dallas PD have to be out here? GM: From what I understand, the AWA requested their presence for this very reason. They knew that Waterson, Bright, and the Bishops might put up a fight and that's exactly what we're seeing... [And with all hell breaking loose, a wise security guard somehow slips a handcuff around the wrist of Duane Henry Bishop!] GM: Oh yeah! There's the first one! [Duane Henry immediately snatches his other hand away, rearing back to backhand the security officer... ...but a nightstick around the throat seems to subdue him long enough for the other handcuff to be locked in place, securing Duane Henry to the first ringpost.] GM: Duane Henry's cuffed! BW: He's backwards! They cuffed him backwards! GM: Hey, if he's going to put up a fight, he's going to get cuffed anyway they can do it. [Cletus Lee Bishop glares at the sea of security around him and marches to the adjacent corner, putting out his arms.] GM: Cletus Lee seems to think it's not worth a fight... or maybe he'd just like to be comfortable in this one. Duane Henry's probably going to have a rough night with his hands cuffed behind him. BW: Probably not his first time. [Gary Bright stands in front of Ben Waterson, shaking his head back and forth as the security tries to get to the Agent To The Stars.] GM: Look at the Bomber holding his ground! He won't let them near Waterson! BW: It's like Chewbacca trying to protect Han Solo in the Carbon Freezing Chamber! GM: ...what? Have you been hanging out with Mark Stegglet? [Bright proves Bucky right as he takes a swing at an AWA security member, throwing him down to the floor. A big haymaker knocks down a second... ...but a swarm of police manage to get Bright's arm down, bullrushing him back to the ringpost. With a struggle and Waterson screaming, "HE'S INJURED! HE'S INJURED!", they are able to get Bright handcuffed around the post, the big man wincing as his injured arm is secured in place.] GM: They're all cuffed... and you know what that means! [The crowd roars as the sea of security officers turn their attention to Waterson, moving towards him. The Agent To The Stars lifts his hands, backing away as he begs for mercy when suddenly... The lights in the Auditorium go out, as the opening horns of "They Reminisce Over You" by Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth begins to play over the PA system, bringing the crowd into a frenzy.] MC: Introducing first... he is the challenger. He hails from Los Angeles, California...standing 6'2 and weighing in at 238 pounds... JUUUUUAAAAAAAANNNNNN VAAASSSSSSQQQUUUUEEEZZZZ!!!! [BIG FACE POP! Spotlights swirl around the venue, before settling on the entrance way, where the cheers become a deafening roar, as they see Vasquez emerging from behind the curtains...with Waterson's cage being slowly wheeled out behind him! A group of about half a dozen men wearing t-shirts with "AWA COMBAT CORNER" written clearly on the front, push the steel structure towards the ring, as Vasquez stands atop the aisle with his hands on his hips and a big smile on his face. He raises an arm high into the air and bellows, as the crowd responds in kind. Satisfied by their reaction, he claps his hands and makes his way down to the ring. Juan is dressed in a hooded version of his tracksuit. The hood has been pulled over his head and he slowly jogs behind the AWA trainees pushing the cage, slapping the hands of fans along the rail and milking the reaction of the crowd for all its worth. Upon reaching ringside, Vasquez shakes the hand of each of the trainees as they make their way to the back and proceeds to climb atop the cage!] GM: What an ovation for Juan Vasquez! He looks absolutely ready for his title match tonight! BW: He should be! He pulled every underhanded trick in the book to give himself every possible advantage in this match! A shot anytime, anywhere, and anyhow he wants? That's downright criminal! And he got away with it too! GM: Those were the very terms that Stevie Scott and Ben Waterson agreed to. BW: Not that I don't condone it, but I'm just stating the facts, daddy! [Standing atop the cage, Juan pulls off his hood and motions for the crowd to cheer even louder. As chants of "JUAN!" echo throughout the audience, Vasquez removes his jacket...and tosses it into the crowd! He pulls off his track pants and tosses those into the crowd as well! Underneath his warm-ups, he wears a pair of black and white MMA-style shorts w/ a "blood-stained" splatter design on them, similar elbowpads and kneepads and heavily taped fists. Swinging the cage door open, Vasquez points squarely at Ben Waterson who is desperately searching for an escape!] GM: Waterson's got nowhere to run and nowhere to hide, Bucky! BW: This is disgraceful! [The security guards move in, grabbing Waterson by the arms and literally lifting his off the ground, carrying him towards the cage. The manager is screaming and shouting, trying to plead with anyone who might be able to help him. The crowd roars as he gets closer and closer to the cage.] GM: Let's lock him up and get this thing started! [Raising a hand to pause the security team, Vasquez moves to their side. With a grin, he raises his hand to reveal one more set of handcuffs.] GM: Oh yeah! [Chuckling, Vasquez snaps the handcuffs in place on the wrists of the struggling Waterson. A ringside AWA official reaches over to tie the gag off on the Agent as well and with one last surge by security, he's forced into the cage... ...where Vasquez slams the door shut to the roar of the crowd!] GM: Waterson's locked up! [An AWA official signals off-camera and slowly the cage begins to rise.] GM: They're raising the cage! That cage will be some fifteen to twenty feet above the ring! BW: I feel so bad for Ben Waterson. This is criminal. GM: The cage is rising... BW: And that twerp Vasquez is waving goodbye. What a jerk! [The camera cuts one by one around the ringside area, showing Duane Henry, then Cletus Lee, then Gary Bright, and then a shot of the cage holding Ben Waterson carrying him higher and higher above the ring.] GM: There you see them, fans. Gary Bright, the Bishops - handcuffed to the ringposts. Ben Waterson, bound and gagged and being raised above the ring in that metal cage. Those men have been instrumental to protecting Stevie Scott's title reign, but tonight, they're just going to have the best seats in the house for this title match! BW: Sure, it looks like he's got all his bases covered, but there's still one thing that he hasn't taken care of. GM: What's that? BW: He still has to actually win this match! GM: Well, that we can agree on. Let's go back up to Melissa! [With the sounds of a screaming Waterson in the background, Melissa Cannon begins to speak once more...] MC: And his opponent... [The sweet sounds of Freddie Mercury's voice fills the air as the sounds of Queen's "We Are The Champions" starts to play over the PA system.] GM: Are you kidding me? BW: Fitting music! [The jeers pour down as Melissa continues.] MC: He hails from St. Louis, Missouri... standing 5'11 and weighing in at 228 pounds... he is the AWA National Champion... "HOTSHOT" STEEEEEEEVIE SCOTT! [As the music hits a crescendo in the first part of the song, "Hotshot" Stevie Scott emerges from the locker room. Clad in a blue and white full-length robe glistening with jewels, he does a slow turn, revealing "HOTSHOT" written in a scripty glittering font across the back. He steps forward and pauses, slowly spreading his arms... ...as a couple small pyro explosions go off on either side of the aisle!] GM: Whoa! BW: Mr. Waterson spared no expense on the biggest night of the year! [Scott nods his head as a shower of gold and white sparks start to fall just behind the National Champion. The camera catches a wide grin on his face as he slowly starts to walk the aisle towards the ring, staring up at Juan Vasquez who is standing on the middle rope, pointing a warning finger at the Champion.] GM: The National Champion, through all the glitz and glamour, is on his way to the ring and these fans are all over him. He is not the most popular man in the AWA, Bucky. BW: Far from it... but he's the most successful which should tell you a lot about what the so-called respect of the fans means in this game. [Reaching ringside, the Hotshot slowly moves around the ring, nodding to Duane Henry and Cletus Lee. As he reaches the Bomber, he pats him on the shoulder and takes a long look up at the cage hanging above the ring before turning to the ringsteps. Scott walks up the steps, still wearing the robe as he reaches the apron. He pauses there, glaring at AWA Senior Official Michael Meekly who sighs as he holds the ropes open, allowing the Hotshot into the squared circle. He tugs at the belt holding his robe in place, revealing the shiny gold belt strapped around his waist. Removing the robe, he folds it up and hands it to a ringside attendant. Across the ring, Juan Vasquez is hopping back and forth from foot to foot, glaring at the National Champion. Unsnapping the belt, the Hotshot hands it over to the official who holds it high in the middle of the ring before handing it outside the ring as well. The referee calls both men to the middle of the ring, giving them some last minute instructions as the champion and challenger glare at one another.] GM: This is what it's all about, Bucky. If you're not in this business to be here... in this match... in this moment... on the night... fighting for the National Title... then you shouldn't be in this business. You can keep your Gold Rushes, your Ring Wars, your Showtimes and all the rest... cause tonight, it's SuperClash, and it just doesn't get any better! [Michael Meekly steps back, calling for the bell to officially start the match as neither man budges an inch.] GM: Now THIS is a staredown. Two men glaring a hole right through one another. Stevie Scott is so resentful that Vasquez has put him into this position. He would like nothing more than to rip the Number One Contender apart right here in the middle of the ring tonight... [The Hotshot runs his mouth a bit, talking up a storm as Vasquez just shakes his head in response... ...and then gets POPPED with a slap across the face!] GM: Ohh! Stevie slaps him acros- [The crowd ERUPTS as Vasquez tackles Stevie Scott, wrapping his arms around his waist and knocking him off his feet to the mat. Down on the canvas, the top contender throws big fists to the head of the Hotshot who tries to cover up and avoid the assault... ...and then somehow manages to roll Vasquez onto his back, taking his turn to throw punches from the top!] GM: We've got a fight on our hands in the early moments of this one! BW: I guess there's not going to be a feeling out process tonight. [A few more shots from Scott lands before the Hotshot reaches down and wraps his hands around the throat of Vasquez!] GM: Choke! That's a choke! [The crowd jeers as the referee starts the count on the Hotshot, forcing him to break the choke at the count of four. The National Champion gets up, holding up five fingers at the referee as he climbs to his feet.] GM: The Hotshot's letting the ref know he has a five count to break and I'm sure the AWA Senior Official knows the rules very well, Bucky. BW: I wouldn't guarantee that at all. [A few stomps to the body of Vasquez push him towards the corner where Gary Bright is standing handcuffed. He glares at the challenger as he gets closer and closer... ...and lunges forward, trying to grab the challenger!] GM: Look at that! He's trying to get at Vasquez but the handcuffs, the ringpost, they're all in the way! The Gold Bomber can't get at him! BW: Now how is that fair? GM: How is it fair that Gary Bright can't interfere? Are you serious? [The National Champion grabs Vasquez by the hair, dragging him off the mat and popping him with a chop across the chest, knocking the challenger back into the corner.] GM: Ohh! The Hotshot puts him back in the corner... [Grabbing Vasquez by the wrist, Scott fires him across the ring to the other corner, charging in right after him... ...but as Vasquez approaches the buckles, he grabs the top rope, kicking his legs up, twisting in the air, and pulling the charging Hotshot down in a sunset flip rollup!] GM: ONE!! TWO!! THR- OHHHHH! [A stunned Hotshot immediately is on the defense, hands up as he staggers backwards, dropping back into the corner. Vasquez is right back up as well, grinning at the crowd's reaction at the nearfall. Nodding his head, Vasquez holds up his hand with his thumb and forefinger just barely apart.] GM: He's telling the champion it was just that close... just that close to Juan Vasquez becoming the new AWA National Champion. We already had one title change hands here tonight and Juan Vasquez is hoping to do it again. [The Hotshot shouts up at Ben Waterson and receives a muffled scream in reply.] GM: Haha! No use for that, champ! You couldn't hear a word of advice he has for you. BW: Now how is THAT fair? That's his manager, Gordo! GM: If all he gave was advice, he wouldn't be in this situation. But I recall a metal suitcase on the 4th of July being caved over Kolya Sudakov's skull! I recall Sweet Daddy Williams getting hit with the same case! I- BW: Well, sure... if you want to bring all that up. [Easing out of the corner, the champion glares at Juan Vasquez who approaches from his corner as well.] GM: Here we go again... into a tieup... [Stevie Scott quickly goes behind Vasquez, applying a rear hammerlock and cranking up on the arm. He nods his head to the crowd, shouting "That's how we do it!".. ...and then getting caught with a back elbow to the side of the face! A second one follows close behind, breaking the hammerlock, and allowing Vasquez to spin around with a haymaker that knocks Stevie down to the mat where he promptly rolls under the ropes to the floor.] BW: This is ridiculous! GM: Stevie's out on the floor, moving over here next to the Gold Bomber. He can't help you either, buddy! BW: Stevie should just walk out of here! He should take the countout and go home! GM: I agree. He should. BW: Huh? GM: Because if he does get counted out or he does get disqualified, then Juan Vasquez is the new Champion! Don't forget that! BW: Arrrgh! [Inside the ring, Vasquez sits on the middle rope, inviting the Hotshot to get back in the ring. The National Champion shakes his head, refusing as he stands by the barricade, getting verbally assaulted by the ringside fans.] GM: Come on, champ. You can't hide out there all night. BW: He's trying to regroup! Leave him alone, Gordo! [The champion slowly approaches the ring, ordering the referee to back off Vasquez. As Michael Meekly does exactly that, the Hotshot pulls himself up on the ring apron before stepping back into the squared circle.] GM: The Hotshot's in... [Vasquez quickly moves in, tying up with the the champion who spins him around, backing him to the corner... ...and buries a knee into the gut of the challenger. Grabbing him by the hair, Stevie connects with a big kneelift to the face, knocking him back to the buckles.] GM: Stevie's got him in the corner... this is where he wants the challenger... [A big chop across the chest connects. A second chop connects as well before Scott grabs the wrist, firing Vasquez across the ring into the buckles.] GM: The challenger hits the corner hard and Scott's not letting up, immediately moving across the ring... [And goes right into a choke, drawing the referee's ire once more.] GM: Come on, ref! BW: Stevie needs to be careful. He can't get disqualified. If he does, we'll have a new champion and no one wants to see that. GM: Speak for yourself, Bucky. [Stevie breaks on the count of four again before burying a knee into the gut. Dragging Vasquez out by the hair, Stevie smashes his elbow down across the back of the neck.] GM: Big elbowsmash by the Hotshot... [Still holding the hair, the National Champion winds up and smashes an elbow down on the neck again.] GM: Stevie with a couple of elbows to the neck. He may be thinking ahead to the moment where he gets a chance to hit that piledriver. BW: I disagree, Gordo. GM: You do? BW: If he hits the piledriver, the match is over no matter how much he's worked on the neck. GM: You may be right about that. We still haven't heard from Adam Rogers, the last man to take that piledriver. It's a dangerous, dangerous move for sure. [Holding the hair with both hands, Stevie THROWS Vasquez back against the buckles, causing a whiplash like effect as Juan's head snaps forward.] GM: Ohhh! [Vasquez stays seated on the canvas, clutching his head and neck as the Hotshot stands over him, sneering at the crowd. The champion drives a stomp down on the upper body of the challenger before the referee forces him back from the buckles.] GM: The ref forces Stevie back and- [The Hotshot pushes past the referee, walking back into the corner where he delivers a trio of stomps to the chest before hauling Vasquez up by the hair, popping him with a chop to the chest before grabbing him by the wrist...] GM: Big whip by the champ... [But as he approaches the corner, Vasquez leaps to the midbuckle, blindly leaping back with a cross body that takes the champion down to the mat!] GM: ONE!! TWO!! And that's all. BW: Vasquez has already gone for two pins in this one. You can see how badly he wants to end this match early. Maybe he has some stamina issues, Gordo. GM: Perhaps. But more than likely, that just shows how badly he wants to be the AWA National Champion. [Both men quickly scamper up to their feet, Stevie sneaking in a haymaker to the jaw that knocks Vasquez backwards, falling with his upper body over the middle rope.] GM: Ohh! Stevie really caught him with that one.. [Approaching Vasquez from behind, Stevie pulls him back by the hair, shoving the challenger's throat down on the middle rope...] GM: Another choke! Come on, referee! [At the count of four, Stevie breaks again before stepping out to the apron, measuring Vasquez who is still draped over the ropes... ...and stalks down the apron, leaping into the air with an elbowsmash down across the back of the neck, smashing Vasquez' throat into the rope, snapping him back to the mat.] GM: Stevie continues to go after the neck and throat of his challenger, trying to take some of the wind out of his sails... [Rolling under the ropes, Stevie gives a thumb up to Ben Waterson who... well, doesn't return the gesture... before delivering a leaping stomp to the side of Juan's head.] GM: Good grief! That stomp was on target for sure, Bucky. [Taking a couple steps back, Stevie measures his man... ...and DRIVES the point of his elbow down into the throat of Vasquez!] GM: The champion makes his first cover of the night... we've got one... we've got two... and that's all he's going to get. [Pushing up to his knees, Stevie immediately questions the official before balling up his fist and driving a barrage of right hands to the temple, keeping Vasquez down on the mat.] GM: The champ is all over Vasquez... and quite frankly, he's been fully control of this match so far with the exception of a couple counters by Vasquez... BW: He's definitely ahead on points! GM: We're not scoring on points, Bucky. BW: We are on my scorecard. [The Hotshot gets back to his feet, dragging Vasquez up by the hair, and popping him with a right hand that sends the challenger falling back against the ropes.] GM: The Hotshot steps out to the apron... [Grabbing Vasquez by the back of the head, Scott drops down off the apron, snapping Vasquez' throat down on the top rope strand, sending him sprawling backwards to the middle of the ring!] GM: Ohhh! Another big shot to the throat... [Stevie rapidly rolls back into the ring, crawling across the squared circle, and diving across him in a lateral press.] GM: We've got one! We've got two! We've got- just the two count. [The champion pushes up to his knee, looking upward, cupping a hand to his ear to try and hear his manager... ...but the roar of the crowd prevents any chance of that!] GM: Haha! These fans are cutting off Waterson trying to scream advice to his man... [The camera cuts outside the ring where we see the Gold Bomber struggling against the handcuffs, trying to rip the metal cuffs off.] GM: Bright's trying to power out of those cuffs and- uh oh... where is Stevie going? [The National Champion delivers a few more stomps before he heads towards the corner...] GM: Stevie's going up! [The Hotshot steps to the middle rope, looking down to make sure Vasquez is still down...] GM: The champ is on the middle rope... up in the high rent district... [Vasquez rolls to his stomach, pushing up to his knees... ...which is apparently right where Stevie Scott wants him, leaping off the perch with his leg bent, knee aimed for the back of the challenger's neck!] GM: KNEEDROP!! [At the last moment, Vasquez shoves himself aside, forcing the Hotshot to smash his knee on the empty canvas!] GM: OHHHH! HE MISSED THE KNEEDROP! [Popping up to his feet, Vasquez moves over to the downed champion who is clutching his now-injured leg. The challenger quickly grabs the ankle and executes a front somersault, snapping the leg over!] GM: Ohhh! BW: And Vasquez is going after the leg! Stevie Scott just created a big opening for the challenger. That leg has to work for the Heatseeker. It has to work for the piledriver! If the leg is taken out, we've got- GM: Vasquez grabs the leg again.. and he snaps it over again! [With the crowd roaring, Vasquez scampers back to his feet, grabbing the foot... ...and twisting the leg into a spinning toehold!] GM: Spinning toehold applied! Look at the pressure on the knee! [Stevie Scott screams out in pain as Vasquez twists the leg again, trying to punish the champion.] GM: Vasquez is softening up that leg... maybe thinking abou- ohh! Cheapshot! [The crowd jeers as Stevie Scott reaches up, raking the eyes of the challenger, a move that sends him stumbling away. The Hotshot winces as he pushes up off the mat, climbing to his feet.] GM: And there's a noticeable limp on the walk of the champion as he moves in on Vasquez... [Grabbing the blinded Vasquez in a front facelock, Stevie hoists the challenger off the mat, twisting slightly... ...and DROPPING Vasquez gutfirst on the top rope!] GM: OHHH! HE HANGS HIM OUT TO DRY! [With Vasquez laid out over the ropes, the Hotshot charges parallel to the ropes, connecting with a thunderous kneelift that sends the challenger falling off the apron to the floor!] GM: Down goes Vasquez! Out to the floor he goes! [Stevie drops back, clutching the ropes as he tries to put weight on his injured leg.] GM: He caught Vasquez with the kneelift but he may have hurt his own leg in the process. That spinning toehold seems to have done a lot of damage to the champion... [Dropping down to the mat, Scott rolls under the bottom rope to the floor.] GM: And now both men are on the floor. BW: Perfect! No one said he loses the title on a double countout! GM: Well, he definitely wouldn't... and I'm sure Ben Waterson may have pointed that out to him... if he was at ringside. BW: You're loving this, aren't you? One of the biggest miscarriages of justice in wrestling history and you're loving it! [Outside the ring, the Hotshot grabs Vasquez by the hair with both hands, bringing him to his feet... ...and getting POPPED with a right hand from the challenger!] GM: Ohh! Vasquez caught him with a haymaker! [A stunned Hotshot falls back against the ring apron as Vasquez comes after him, grabbing the champ by the hair and spinning him around... ...before SMASHING his face into the ring apron!] GM: Good grief! BW: That's illegal! DQ! DQ! GM: Vasquez fires him under the ropes into the ring, rolling in behind him... [Backing away, Stevie backs all the way to the corner where Vasquez approaches... ...and the Hotshot lunges out, jabbing a thumb into the eye again!] GM: Oh, come on! [Grabbing the challenger around the waist, Scott swings him back into the corner where he starts throwing hooking blows to the ribcage of the challenger... ...who suddenly starts firing back with forearms to the face of the champ!] GM: Whoa! Whoa! [The crowd goes nuts at the barrage of shots to the face, knocking Scott to a knee where the forearms become clubbing blows across the back of the head and neck of the Hotshot!] GM: Forearm after forearm after forearm in the corner! [Grabbing the Hotshot by the hair, Vasquez spins him around and SMASHES his face into the top turnbuckle. He grabs the champion by the arm, firing him across the ring where the leg buckles, causing the champion to fall into a seated position in the corner... ...which allows Vasquez to sprint across the ring, leaving his feet, and DRIVING both feet squarely into the face of Stevie Scott in a dropkick!] GM: Good grief! What a dropkick by the challenger! [Hauling Scott out of the corner, Vasquez throws him down on his back on the mat, diving across in a lateral press.] GM: He hooks the leg for one! For two! [But the Hotshot fires a shoulder off the mat before the three count. The challenger quickly takes the mount position, letting loose a "YEAAAH!" to the crowd before he starts throwing fist after fist after fist to the skull of the champion... ...finally being physically restrained by Michael Meekly who drags Vasquez off of the Hotshot!] GM: What was that?! BW: He didn't have a choice! It was drag him off of the champ or DQ him! I think he made the wrong choice personally but... GM: The referee should NEVER put his hands on a wrestler in my opinion, Bucky. It's just asking for trouble. [Vasquez glares at the referee as he moves back in on the Hotshot, dragging him up by the hair. He grabs the wrist, firing him across the ring to the corner... ...where he rushes in with a clothesline, smashing the champ into the buckles!] GM: CLOTHESLINE IN THE CORNER!! [With the champion dazed from the clothesline, the challenger hooks him under the arm, tossing him from the corner in a hiptoss.] GM: Hiptoss out of the buckles... [A big leaping stomp to the gut makes the champion sit up straight, clutching his ribs while the challenger races to the ropes, rebounding back... ...and DRIVING his knee into the face of the seated Hotshot!] GM: RUNNING KNEE!! THAT MIGHT DO IT!! [Vasquez drops to the mat, reaching back to hook the leg.] GM: ONE!! TWO!! [The Hotshot fires a shoulder off the mat again, again causing Vasquez to roll into the mount, throwing punches from the top, just battering the National Champion.] GM: Vasquez is all over him again! [And this time, the referee opts to use a count, forcing Vasquez to break up his attack just before the four count. The challenger slowly gets up, staring down at the champion...] GM: The challenger drags him up again... ohh! Big forearm smash to the jaw knocks Stevie back to the buckles. The champ's in trouble, Bucky. BW: At this point, it certainly looks that way. GM: Irish whip by Vasquez... here he comes! [The challenger charges across the ring, looking to go for the kill... ...but Stevie Scott steps out of the buckles, ducking down to hook Vasquez around the waist, hoisting him off the mat into the air, twisting his body, and DROPPING Vasquez throatfirst across the top rope!] GM: HOTSHOT! HOTSHOT BY THE CHAMP!! [With the challenger down, the Hotshot crawls towards him, throwing himself into a lateral press.] GM: ONE!! TWO!! THR- OHHH! BW: That was a good chance to win the match right there, Gordo. You catch him with something like that, it totally knocks the wind from him and gives you a chance to steal a win. GM: But he didn't quite have enough to hold him down for a three. [Realizing he's in trouble, the challenger rolls under the ropes, clutching his throat as he drops down to the floor below, gasping for air.] GM: Vasquez is trying to catch his breath... trying to stay out from under the Hotshot for a bit... BW: But the champ's going for it all! [Moving out to the apron as well, shaking his leg as he walks down the apron, the Hotshot looks down at Vasquez... ...and then shouts something up to Waterson.] GM: Did he-? BW: He just called for a Steviesault! GM: Are you kidding me?! BW: If Waterson was out here, there's no WAY he'd be doing this! [The National Champion starts towards the corner where Gary Bright is handcuffed... ...and suddenly stops short, looking confused at his partner. The Hotshot puts a foot up on the ropes but Bright shouts at him.] GM: I think the Gold Bomber's trying to talk him out of this! BW: Smart man. GM: Bright is trying to tell Stevie this is a mistake and I think... yep, Stevie's listening to him. The Hotshot is backing away from the corner, dropping down to the floor. BW: Gary Bright may have just saved the National Title, Gordo. A Steviesault to the floor might have been disastrous. GM: I think it WOULD have been disastrous. [Now on the floor, the champion approaches his challenger who is leaning against the metal barricade, still clutching his throat when a big chop splashes across his chest.] GM: Ohh! Big shot there! [Stevie nods to the jeering crowd as he winds up and connects again.] GM: A second big chop across the chest by the Hotshot... [Grabbing Vasquez by the hair, he drags him away from the barricade... ...and THROWS him into the steel ringsteps!] GM: Ohh my! Into the steel goes the challenger... [Keeping an eye on the official, the Hotshot rolls under the ropes to break the count and then rolls back out to the floor.] GM: A fresh count started by Michael Meekly - the AWA Senior Official doing an excellent job in this one so far... [Moving in on Vasquez, Stevie throws another big chop across his chest. He wraps his hands around the challenger's throat, pushing him back over the steel steps in a choke.] GM: Another choke! Come on, referee! [Stevie backs off... ...which leaves Duane Henry Bishop with free reign to stomp and kick the downed Vasquez at his feet.] GM: Oh, come on! [The referee glares at Duane Henry, shouting a reprimand.] GM: He just threated Stevie Scott too! He told Stevie to control Duane Henry Bishop! [The National Champion glares at Duane Henry Bishop as he passes by him, dragging Vasquez by the hair with him... ...and FIRING him into the steel ringpost next to Cletus Lee Bishop!] GM: Vasquez is getting dragged around the ringside area... getting absolutely abused out there by the National Champion who is getting a little help from his friends... [With Vasquez leaning against the steel next to him, Cletus Lee can't restrain himself from uncorking a headbutt that drills Vasquez in the temple!] GM: Ohh! Give me a break, referee! [Michael Meekly actually exits the ring this time, pointing a finger of warning in Stevie Scott's face. The camera picks up the warning of, "The next time one of them interfere, I'm stopping the match!"] GM: Did you hear that, Bucky? BW: More conspiracies by the AWA Championship Committee! GM: If another one of Stevie's cronies interfere and Michael Meekly sees it, he's gonna disqualify the champion and award the title to Juan Vasquez! BW: Yeah, but with all the talk about fair play and sportsmanship and honor and all that garbage, would you really want Vasquez to win the title that way? GM: At this point, I'm willing to see whatever is necessary to get the belt away from Scott, Waterson, Bright, and everyone else who helps them! [The champion hauls Vasquez off the ringpost, dragging him up into a fireman's carry.] GM: Now what in the world does he have in mind? [Holding him across his shoulder, Stevie walks over to the timekeeper's table, shouting at Melissa Cannon and Dr. Bob Ponavitch to get out of the way. He turns slightly, smirking as he stands tall... ...and DROPS straight down, smashing Juan's face into the ringside table!] GM: Ohhh! BW: What a beautiful move! [The champion quickly drags Vasquez up, throwing him under the ropes into the ring. On the apron, Scott throws himself through the top and middle ropes into a lateral press... ...and strategically puts his feet on the middle rope for leverage!] GM: Not like this! BW: ONE!!! TWO!! THR- [But just before the three count comes down, the referee spots the feet on the ropes, breaking the count. He shakes his head as the champion gets up, shouting at the AWA's Senior Official.] GM: Scott's all over him but Michael Meekly made the right call there! [An irate Stevie Scott turns away, yanking Vasquez off the mat and burying a boot into the gut. He hits the closest ropes, rebounding back...] GM: Swinging neckbreak- BACKSLIDE! [Vasquez spun through the neckbreaker attempt, hooking Scott's arms with his own and dragging his shoulders down to the canvas as the referee dives down to count.] GM: ONE!! TWO!!! THRE- OHHH! [The crowd buzzes with disappointment as the National Champion just barely slips out of the pinning predicament in time and quickly scrambles to his feet, beating the challenger there... ...where he SNAPS Vasquez over in the swinging neckbreaker!] GM: Ohhh! He caught him with the neckbreaker anyways! [The Hotshot pushes up to his knees, about to cover... ...when he suddenly looks up.] GM: What in the world is...? BW: Do you hear that, Gordo? GM: I don't hear... wait a second! [The camera cuts to show a shot of the cage where Ben Waterson has managed to press his face against the bars of the cage, rolling the gag out of his mouth.] GM: He got the gag out! He got the gag out and- BW: He's calling for the Piledriver! He just told Stevie to deliver the piledriver on Vasquez! [Nodding his head, an almost giddy Hotshot gets to his feet, dragging Vasquez off the mat, tugging him into a standing headscissors.] GM: He's got the Piledriver hooked! If he hits this, it's over! If he hits this, it's- [Suddenly, Vasquez stands up... ...which sends Scott OVER the ropes and down to the floor!] GM: OHHHHHHHHHH! WHAT A COUNTER!! BW: He knew it! He knew it too, Gordo! He knew the Piledriver was coming and he did what he needed to do to get out of it. GM: Waterson is screaming at the Hotshot... I don't think the champ can hear him though, Bucky. BW: He hit the ground hard! I don't know if he can- GM: Vasquez is leaning against the ropes... [Grabbing the ring apron, the Hosthot drags himself off the floor, shaking his head... ...which sends Vasquez sprinting to the far ropes, racing to the other side where he turns himself into a human torpedo, diving THROUGH the top and middle ropes to completely wipe out the National Champion!] GM: OHHHHHHHHHH MY!!! [With the crowd roaring, the camera cuts to ringside where both Vasquez and Stevie Scott have been laid out on the barely-padded concrete. Both men are motionless save for their heaving chests as they try to pull body into their lungs.] GM: Both men are down! Both men are out! And can someone get that gag back in Waterson's mouth? Good grief! [The camera cuts to show Waterson screaming and shouting to his men at ringside.] GM: Is he trying to make up for lost time? That gag may have cut off some oxygen to the brain cause he's going crazy up there! BW: He's trying to even the odds a little bit. Vasquez stacked the deck but Waterson found a way to be with his man at ringside by hook or by crook! GM: Both of these men are down and... [The crowd starts to buzz with confusion at the appearance of someone else in the aisleway.] GM: Wait a second! BW: It's Raphael Rhodes! GM: It certainly is! [The crowd responds with a mixture of cheers and boos as Raphael Rhodes slowly walks down the aisle, looking towards the ring. His face is emotionless - giving no trace of why he's at ringside.] GM: The last time we saw him, he was asking Jason Keening for advice and who knows what happened there? I can't imagine THIS was Jason Keening's idea! BW: He said we'd get his decision here tonight. Whose side is he on? Did Waterson make him an offer he can't refuse? Everybody's got a price, Gordo. GM: Not everybody. I hope... I sincerely hope Raphael Rhodes has chosen wisely... [Reaching the ringside area, Rhodes ignores the cries of the official trying to get him to leave. He simply walks over to the timekeeper's table, snatching a chair and taking a seat.] GM: I don't... I don't know what to think about this. BW: This could be bad for either of them! I mean... Rhodes HATES Vasquez! GM: I'm not sure Stevie Scott's on his list of favorites either, Bucky. [Back down at ringside, a recovering Juan Vasquez is on his feet, tiredly pulling Stevie Scott off the mat and firing him under the ropes into the ring.] GM: The champ is back in... the challenger pulls himself up on the apron... [Vasquez steps through the ropes, breathing heavily as he leans against the ropes. Nodding his head at the cheering crowd, Vasquez marches away from the ropes, leaping high in the air as he tucks his legs, smashing backfirst across the chest of the Hotshot!] GM: SHADES OF TOMMY STEPHENS!! [An exhausted Vasquez rolls over into a lateral press, nodding his head as the ref drops down to count.] GM: ONE!! TWO!! THR- [Stevie Scott fires the shoulder off the canvas again, narrowly avoiding the loss.] GM: And we were just moments... seconds... maybe not even a full second away from seeing a new champion crowned! Juan Vasquez almost won the National Title right there! BW: We are almost twenty minutes into this match and Vasquez has gotta be feeling like he's back in that cage with Raphael Rhodes with what the champ's put him through. GM: Vasquez thought he had him... he thought he had him... [The challenger slowly gets back to his feet, pleading with Michael Meekly who insists it was a two count. Shaking his head, Vasquez reaches down to haul the champion off the mat... ...and AGAIN gets a thumb in the eye!] GM: Ohhh! Vasquez can't - what's going on? [A blinded Vasquez staggers back, grabbing onto Michael Meekly to stay on his feet. Meekly struggles to free himself but Vasquez is trying to stay up, rubbing at his eyes...] GM: Vasquez can't see anything! He's- [Meekly pushes hard, shoving Vasquez around... ...just as the National Champion uncorks a Heatseeker superkick!] GM: HEATSEEK- "OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" [The crowd's reaction says it all as Vasquez flattens out, causing the National Champion to connect with the superkick... ...squarely on the chin of Michael Meekly!] GM: MEEKLY'S DOWN! MEEKLY'S DOWN! [The impact of the superkick knocks Meekly flat, leaving him motionless on the mat as Stevie Scott spins around, just as Vasquez gets up.] GM: Vasquez caught him! [The challenger hoists the champion over his shoulder, reaching back to hook the head...] GM: CITY OF ANGELS! CITY OF ANGELS! [...but before Vasquez can drive him home, the champion rolls through the Air Raid Crash attempt into a sunset flip!] GM: Sunset flip but there's no one to count! Meekly's down! [The Hotshot releases the sunset flip, shoving Vasquez forward where the challenger rolls to his feet... ...and charges forward CREAMING Scott in the face with a running knee again!] GM: He caught him again! He caught the Hotshot with the knee again and- [Quickly grabbing the foot of the champion, Vasquez goes into a spinning toe hold, reaching down to grab the other leg, and falls back into a figure four leglock!] GM: FIGURE FOUR! FIGURE FOUR! VASQUEZ HAS HIM TRAPPED IN THE FIGURE FOUR! [The champion immediately screams out in pain, sitting straight up and crying out as he clutches at his own leg. Vasquez clinches his teeth, rocking back and forth to put even more pressure on the leg. The crowd is roaring for the hold, hopeful that it'll finish off the champion.] GM: This might be it! BW: But there's no referee! It might be it but we don't have a referee out here! That means no submission... no pinfalls... Meekly needs to get up and do this! GM: He's moving a bit but he's still very dazed and- [Suddenly, the crowd begins to buzz once more as Raphael Rhodes rises from his ringside seat, shoving the steel chair he was sitting on under the ropes. Stepping through the ropes, Rhodes walks to the middle of the ring, picking up the steel chair...] GM: Uh oh. BW: The moment of truth! Make your decision, Rhodes! [Clutching the chair with white-knuckled hands, Rhodes looks from Vasquez to Scott... from Vasquez to Scott... a shout from Waterson makes Rhodes looks up, glaring at the Agent To The Stars with the "offer you can't refuse."] GM: What's he gonna do? Who's it gonna be? [Rhodes looks down, closing his eyes, seemingly talking to himself for a lonnnnng moment as the crowd is roaring, trying to cheer him to make the right decision. Finally, his eyes open... ...and his decision is revealed!] "WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!" "OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" GM: NO! NO! NO! BW: He did it, Gordo! He has chosen wisely! GM: He has not! That son of a- he just sold his soul to Waterson, the Hotshot, and the Gold Bomber! [With the crowd roaring with hatred, Rhodes holds the steel chair in his hand that he just SLAMMED into the face of Juan Vasquez. Shaking his head, he throws the chair aside, looking down at the now-bleeding skull of Vasquez... ...and promptly drops down to his knees, grabbing Vasquez by the skull and delivering bone-crunching punch after punch after punch to the head by Rhodes! He drives his knuckles into Vasquez' torn flesh, trying to split the wound open even more.] GM: Rhodes has busted him open! Raphael Rhodes has split Juan Vasquez wide open and he's... he's trying to draw even more blood out of him, Bucky! BW: He's battering the challenger in the middle of the ring! [The figure four long broken, Stevie Scott hobbles to his feet, unable to put weight on the injured limb. The Hotshot is all grins while watching Raphael Rhodes batter the top challenger relentlessly. Getting to his feet, Rhodes drives stomp after stomp down onto the forehead as he glares down at him. He takes a few steps back and then swandives down, SMASHING his skull down on Juan Vasquez!] GM: OHHHH! Headbutt by Rhodes! BW: Juan Vasquez is being obliterated by these two men! And who is gonna save him tonight? Rough N Ready went through hell. Tumaffi's been taken to the hospital! His buddies are gone! GM: Juan Vasquez is- they're not done! [Sliding the chair into position, Rhodes hops up on the middle rope as Stevie Scott slides in behind Vasquez, reaching over to grab him by the legs.] GM: Wait a second... [The National Champion wheelbarrows Vasquez off the mat, hoisting him up... ...at which point Rhodes leaps off the middle rope, hooking Vasquez around the head and neck and DRIVE him skullfirst into the steel chair on the canvas!] GM: OHHHHH! BW: I know that move! GM: So do I! GM: That... that's a Syndicutter! The tag team finisher of Casey James and Tiger Claw - Hall of Famers the both of them - from years gone by! Raphael Rhodes and Stevie Scott just delivered the Syndicutter on Juan Vasquez on top of a steel chair! [With Vasquez motionless on the mat, Raphael Rhodes walks across the ring, yanking the referee off the canvas, dragging him over where the National Champion has applied a lateral press.] GM: No... please... not like this... [Rhodes throws the referee down to the mat where he comes face-to-face with the lateral press.] GM: Please. Please kick out, Juan. BW: ONE!! [A dazed Meekly is in slow motion as he lifts his arm again.] GM: Come on! Somebody stop this! This is a tragedy! BW: TWO!! [Meekly raises his hand one more time, the crowd roaring in hope that Vasquez can pull off a miracle one more time... ...and then deflating as the hand hits the canvas!] BW: THREEEEEEEEE! HE DID IT! HE DID IT! STEVIE BEAT ALL THE ODDS! GM: Unbelievable. [The crowd EXPLODES in jeers as the referee signals for the bell and Melissa Cannon makes it official.] MC: Ladies and gentlemen... here is your winner... And STILL AWA NATIONAL CHAMPION... "HOTSHOT" STEEEEEEEEEEEVIE SCOTT! [The jeers get even louder as Raphael Rhodes retrieves the title belt from the ringside attendant, slapping it down over the shoulder of the National Champion as Rhodes helps him to his feet.] GM: Stevie Scott has... he's retained the title but he's put whole new meaning to the words "by hook or by crook", Bucky Wilde. BW: He's the champ. You can't take that way from him. [The cage holding Waterson starts to lower as Stevie Scott grins at his manager, holding the belt high with a "WE DID IT! WE DID IT, BEN!" AWA security works their way around the ring, uncuffing the Bishop Boys and Gary Bright. The Bishops don't stick around, immediately heading back up the aisle while the Gold Bomber moves into the ring to join his partners-in-crime.] GM: Bright joins the celebration inside the ring... [The Gold Bomber shakes the hand of Raphael Rhodes before high-fiving the National Champion. Scott immediately leans upon the massive shoulder of Gary Bright to keep the weight off his injured leg. After a few more moments, the cage hits the ground and Ben Waterson is quickly freed from it.] GM: And here comes Waterson... I can't believe what we're seeing, fans. [Waterson joins his men in the ring, falling into an embrace with the National Champion before gratefully shaking the hand of Raphael Rhodes.] GM: There they are, fans... and for at least one more night, they rule the entire American Wrestling Alliance. It's been one heck of a night here at SuperClash, fans... again, our thanks to WKIK for letting us go into overtime. For Jason Dane, Mark Stegglet, and Bucky Wilde... I'm Gordon Myers and we'll see you next time... at the matches. [The camera holds inside the ring, sticking around for the celebrating of Bright, Rhodes, Scott, and Waterson as they taunt the jeering crowd, holding the title belt high in the air... ...as we fade to black.]