[Fade in from black to a snazzy looking AWA ACCESS logo. It looks like someone's been learnin' Illustrator! I bet it's that Jason Dane kid. He seems like a real smart cookie, a fast learner, and a go-getter with worlds of potential. It also seems like he's standing in front of a kinda cheesy looking CGI green screen backdrop with the same logo on it. He's in a black polo with the AWA logo stitched over the breast pocket and seems quite cheery for someone who is habitually verbally abused by the masses.] JD: Hello everyone and welcome to a very special edition of AWA Access! We are coming to you from our old home in the WKIK Studios for what promises to be a lot of fun. Earlier this week, the AWA rolled into San Antonio, Texas, for a special live arena event where we planned on having four big first round matches in the tournament to crown the first Longhorn Heritage Champion! We also had many other AWA superstars on hand for this big return to the road and our cameras - plus yours truly and a variety of co-hosts - were LIVE on the scene to call some of the action. Tonight, we plan to bring you highlights from that show in San Antonio with words from many AWA superstars, some live action, and who knows, we may even have a surprise or two! So, without anything further, let's head out to San Antonio where the cameras were rolling! [We crossfade to footage marked, "OCTOBER 6 - SAN ANTONIO ROSE PALACE." There is a cheering crowd roaring as the show begins. We can see the standard AWA ring in the middle of the building surrounded by rope "barricades." The aisleway has the more traditional metal railings but lacks the elevated ramp used at some AWA events. A quick fade shows Jason Dane in a similar outfit to what we just saw.] JD: WE! ARE! LIVE! AWA fans have jammed into the San Antonio Rose Palace for what is sure to be an exciting night of action and I am overjoyed to be out here on the road with THE Major League of professional wrestling. Gordon Myers and Bucky Wilde have the night off so I'll be here calling all the action - and joining me to assist with that will be a host of different people throughout the night. Of course, the big reason we're here is the Longhorn Heritage Title tournament. We'll be seeing four big showdowns from the first round here tonight but that's not the only reason we're here. We have some other matches going on as well. [We fade to graphic showing Pugnacio Supremo on the left and SWLL superstar El Caliente on the right.] JD: Now THIS is my kind of opener, fans - with two lucha libre superstars going head to head right here in San Antonio. Let's take a look at some of the highlights from this one. [We fade to a moment that is presumably a few minutes into the match as both men still look relatively fresh. Supremo locks his fingers with El Caliente, running towards the ropes where he runs right up them, backflipping off the top, and yanking Caliente down to the canvas with an armdrag!] JD: Oh yeah! Nice looking armdrag there by Supremo! Supremo really got off to a fast start in the AWA when he debuted by taking one-half of the former National Tag Team Champions Adrian Freeman to a time limit draw but has really seemed to struggle since then. His lucha libre stylings inside the ring are very different than most of the AWA superstars and he seems to have had a problem finding his stride. [With Caliente reeling, Supremo charges him, leaping into the air to hook Caliente's head with his legs in preparation for a rana... ...but Caliente holds his ground, the small highflyer pushing Supremo off into a backflip. As soon as Supremo hits the mat, Caliente pops him under the chin with a thrust kick that knocks his fellow masked man backwards, through the ropes to the floor!] JD: Supremo goes down to the floor! Right through the ropes! And look out now... [Getting a running start, Caliente hits the far ropes, rebounding back... ...and takes flight with a breathtaking corkscrew plancha dive over the ropes to the floor!] JD: PLAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNCHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! OHHH QUE MORTAL! [The crowd roars for the death-defying move that wipes out both luchadors, leaving them motionless on the floor. The referee starts his ten count... ...and we fade ahead a little deeper into the match.] JD: Supremo drags himself up on the apron but Caliente is waiting for him! [With Supremo dazed, Caliente slings himself between the ropes, catching Supremo in the gut with a shoulderblock. The high-flying luchador pulls Supremo's head between the top and middle ropes, charging to the adjacent ropes... ...and airballing on a running dropkick, crashing down to the canvas near the ropes.] JD: He missed! Caliente misses the dropkick and- [Without missing a beat, Supremo grabs the top rope, slingshotting himself over into a senton.] JD: KING! SIZED! SENTON! 165 pounds straight down on the chest! [We see the referee count to two before we fade deeper into the match... ...just as Caliente sets Supremo up on the top turnbuckle. The high flyer dashes back to the opposite corner. He leaps into the air, pointing to one side of the crowd. The few SWLL fans in the house respond, "SPICY!" He leaps again, pointing to the other side. Again, the few SWLL fans in the crowd respond, "HOT!" And then he dashes across the ring at full speed...] JD: He's going for the Spicy Hot Rana - the signature move of El Caliente! [The wildly masked luchador leaps to the second rope on the right side of the ring, springing off to the top rope on the left side of the ring, and springing off one more time to snare Supremo in a top rope rana... ...but Supremo's legs are wrapped around the middle rope, preventing the move and causing Caliente to crash down chestfirst on the canvas!] JD: HE WENT FOR IT ALL AND CAME UP SNAKE EYES!! [Supremo seizes the moment to step up to the top rope, pointing out to the cheering fans... ...and uncorks a beautiful 450 splash, crashing down across the back of Caliente! He promptly flips his opponent to his back and gains the referee's three count.] JD: Pugnacio Supremo scored a big, big win down in San Antonio by beating fellow luchador El Caliente but it remains to be seen if that will be enough to put the man from Monterey, Mexico on track here in the American Wrestling Alliance. And now, let's take a look at what happened when we caught up with Tin Can Rust back in the locker room just moments before his first round showdown with "Gentleman" Jack Holland! [Shot cuts to a plain black backdrop where Tin Can Rust stands by, alone, looking straight into the camera.] TCR: Jack Holland, tonight you and I meet. I can't say I know you much other than what I saw of you last week. [Rust pauses, sort of shaking his head at the "Gentleman"'s words.] TCR: I ain't going to go about saying what I'm going to do tonight or threaten you none - I'll let my actions tell those words. [The Kentuckian nods.] TCR: So the only real thing I do have to say to you is... you're standing in my way. In my road to the Longhorn Heritage Title. And no tough talker's going to prevent me from continuing on. [With that, Rust brings up his hand and clenches it to a fist before the shot cuts out and back to the ring where we see Tin Can Rust cornering Holland and teeing off with right hands in the buckles.] JD: The first Longhorn Heritage Tournament match of the night was off to a very quick start. Tin Can Rust obviously wanted to get the match done in a hurry and was letting Holland know just how tough of an individual he is inside that squared circle. [Grabbing Holland by the arm, Rust fires him from corner to corner, following him in with a running clothesline. A second whip follows suit but this time, when he charges in, he catches a boot to the midsection that doubles him up... ...and Holland ROCKS Rust with a running kneelift that knocks the veteran flat!] JD: LOOK AT THAT KNEELIFT! Good grief, Charlie Brown! His jaw may be in the third row after that one! [Holland leans against the ropes, obviously pleased with his handiwork as we fade to later in the match... ...where Holland has Rust trapped in the corner, teeing off with rights and lefts to the midsection. A few chops across the chest follow before Holland connects with a knife-edge chop to the temple that makes the crowd groan as Rust slumps down to the mat.] JD: Some brutal striking on display by "Gentleman" Jack Holland. He drags Rust out of the corner by the back of the head - a little bit of trash talking going on now... [And Holland's mouth gets him in trouble as Rust CREAMS him with a right hand, knocking him several steps back. Holland is trying to clear the cobwebs when a big boot to the side of the kneeling Gentleman's face sends him through the ropes to the floor!] JD: Mercy! Tin Can Rust is on a mission here tonight in San Antonio. And now he's going out after Holland! [Out on the floor, Rust pulls Holland to his feet, grabbing him by the arm... ...and WHIPPING him spinefirst into the ring apron! Rust continues to pummel him with haymakers as we fade to later in the match where Rust is on the middle rope, battering him with ten count punches!] JD: These fans are solidly behind Tin Can Rust here in San Antonio! They're counting off the punches as he delivers big shots to the skull of Holland! [But at the count of seven, Holland somehow manages to wriggle out from under Rust, standing up behind him to hook the back of the trunks and YANKS him down off his perch, sending him crashing backfirst down to the canvas.] JD: OHHH! RUST GOES DOWN! RUST GOES DOWN! [Trying to seize the moment, Holland approaches the downed Rust, yanking him up to his feet and immediately going for the half nelson.] JD: Holland is going for the half nelson suplex! If he hits this, he'll move right into the Razorwire Blues and it'll be all over for Rust! [With the half nelson sunk in, Holland goes for the suplex but Rust is ready for it, throwing his free elbow back into the side of Holland's head a few times to loosen the grip... ...and DRIVES his body backwards to break the hold but ends up squashing the ref between Holland's body and the buckles!] JD: THE REF GOT IN THE WAY!! Bad in-ring positioning by the official and he just got the hammer laid down on him right there! [The referee crumples to the canvas as Rust turns around, yanking Holland out by the arm and firing him into the ropes.] JD: Irish whip off the ropes... [And when Holland rebounds, Rust scoops him up under his arm, spinning around, and DRIVING him down to the canvas!] JD: CAN CRUSHER! CAN CRUSHER! HE GOT ALL OF THAT!! [Rust drops down in a lateral press, reaching back to hook a leg for the three count... ...but the three count does not come thanks to a badly-shaken Marty Meekly who is still down in the corner.] JD: There's no referee! Rust has the pin but there's no referee! [After a few moments, Tin Can Rust gets up, shaking his head at the sight of the downed official. He slowly approaches, shaking the referee to try to revive him... ...and fails to notice Calisto Dufresne hurdle the barricade, rolling under the ropes in street clothes.] JD: DUFRESNE'S IN THE RING! CALISTO DUFRESNE'S IN THE RING!! [And just as Rust turns around, Dufresne buries a boot in the midsection, pulling him into a front facelock. He hoists him up off the mat and DRIVES him down with a thunderous lifting DDT!] JD: WHAM, BAM, THANK YOU MA'AM!!! [With Rust absolutely dead to the world, Dufresne throws the arm of the downed Holland across the chest. He walks to the corner, violently shaking the official and shoving him out to the middle of the ring before dropping down to the mat and rolling out to the floor.] JD: No, no! Not like this! [But the referee's arm goes up and down three times before he calls for the bell.] JD: "Gentleman" Jack Holland is moving on in the tournament thanks to Calisto Dufresne! Come on! [The camera catches the smirking face of Calisto Dufresne as he backpedals up the aisle, shaking his head as Jack Holland celebrates his victory. JD: Jack Holland is your winner - he'll move on to face either Robert Donovan or Jesse Ewiak. We'll find out the winner of that one later tonight but for right now, let's go back to the locker room area where we caught up with "Playboy" Johnny Casanova! [Backstage, Mark Stegglet is once again struggling to say anything as the Playboy Johnny Casanova is in full flow.] JC: Scotty Mayhem, ya tried once more, and ya couldn't get the job done! Because at the end of the day, Johnny C and Big Mama here... [He breaks off for a second to plant a kiss on Big Mama's cheek, allowing Stegglet to dive in with a question.] MS: Some people would say that you took the cheap way out, Johnny, when your manager here laid her hands on poor Miss Amanda! JC: Cheap way out? Are ya kidding me, Steggles baby? As I was saying, the Playboy and Big Mama thought long and hard about how we could show poor Scotty the error of his ways, and we saw our chance. So Big Mama decided to have a little talk with Miss Amanda... and just because she brought her out to take a look at the sight of her boyfriend being taught a wrestling lesson by Johnny Cas, Scotty Mayhem goes crazy! So at the end of the day, it's an L for Scotty Mayhem, and Johnny Casanova is taking his rightful place in the Longhorn title tournament! And Mark - ya gotta see how good I look in gold! [Cut back to the ring where we see a young man walking back and forth, being introduced as Brody Reed.] JD: Joining me on commentary on this match is the one and only Eric Preston. Eric, welcome to San Antonio! EP: Thanks, Jason. JD: And if you heard that competitor get introduced - his name is Brody Reed and he is the younger brother of the man, James Reed, who was brutally beaten on the last Saturday Night Wrestling by James Monosso. And I have to say, his name is quite unfortunate for this young man from New Mexico considering he's about to- [The sounds of the theme to Halloween fill the air - as do a crapload of boos.] JD: Here. Comes. Trouble. [The crowd's jeers grow louder as James Monosso emerges from the entryway, trailed by the devious-looking Percy Childes. Childes angrily shouts at ringside fans, jabbing the air with his cane as Monosso stomps down the aisle, pointing at the ring. He rolls under the ropes upon reaching the ring, climbing to his feet... ...and stampedes across, barreling over the surprised Reed with a running double axehandle, knocking him down to the mat!] JD: Monosso's right on him! Not wasting a moment! EP: This is the kind of fight you have to expect from James Monosso. He comes right at you a million miles an hour and you have to be ready to fight as soon as he shows up. Heck, before that even. I'm ready to fight him when I wake up in the morning. [A pair of boots to the ribs puts Reed out to the floor as we cut to footage later in the match... ...which sees Monosso repeatedly stomping the face of Reed on the mat. The back of Reed's head is resting against the bottom turnbuckle as the big man stomps the face again and again and again.] JD: A savage assault by James Monosso, just battering this young man into the canvas. EP: Get in there, ref. There's no call for that. [The big man grabs Reed by the feet, dragging him out to the middle of the ring where he backs into the ropes, leaping sky high, and dropping all his weight down in a King Kong kneedrop across the chest!] JD: OHHHHH! DID YOU SEE THAT?! EP: I saw it. That's an easy way to pop a lung like a balloon, Jason. JD: It certainly is. [Still kneeling on the chest, Monosso glares out at ringside. He points right at Preston as he hauls the young man to his feet. Holding him by the trunks with one hand, the big man HURLS him through the ropes into the steel post!] JD: Shoulderfirst into the steel goes Brody Reed - and you know what's coming after that, Eric. EP: I'm afraid I do. [Monosso steps out on the apron, glaring down at Preston who is just a few feet away at this point... ...and charges down the length of the apron, raising his foot, and SMASHING Reed's skull into the steel post!] JD: Gaaaaah. That's just a horrific thing to see. EP: Even worse to feel. I'll tell you that. JD: The referee's really letting him have it for that one. Warning him against it. That's totally illegal. EP: Monosso couldn't give a damn, Jason. And listen to Childes! He's telling this nutjob to do it again! JD: If he does it again, he might get disqualified! EP: Like I said, he couldn't give a damn. [Monosso backs away, turning to stare at Preston again... ...and breaks into a sprint, delivering the boot to the skull again, smashing Brody Reed's skull into the ringpost!] JD: OHHHHHHH! "DING! DING! DING!" JD: The bell has rung. The referee is putting a stop to this carnage! EP: It's about time. [With Reed hanging lifelessly between the ropes, Monosso retreats backwards, throwing his arms apart with a scream.] JD: James Monosso is a man completely unhinged, Eric. He has been disqualified for excessive brutality and a deliberate attempt to injure his opponent and he doesn't even acknowledge that. And to make matters worse, I'm not sure his manager, Percy Childes, is upset either! EP: This guy is completely out of control and at some time in some place, somebody's going to have to stop him. JD: Is that someone you? EP: I can't think of a better choice, Jason. [Monosso steps back into the ring, shoving down the official who tries to block his path.] JD: Now, wait a second! There's no call for that! [The big man approaches the corner, dragging Reed from the buckles by the back of the trunks into a side waistlock...] JD: Oh no! [Suddenly, a "THUNK!" is heard from the announce table. The camera cuts to ringside where Eric Preston has abandoned the announce desk, stepping up on it, and climbing through the ropes where he blasts Monosso from the blind side with a running forearm smash, knocking Reed free from the former Happy Valley resident's grasp. Preston spins Monosso around, throwing haymaker after haymaker to the skull, battering him back into the ropes.] JD: Eric Preston is putting a stop to this savage assault right now! Listen to these fans! [The San Antonio crowd is roaring as Preston throws punch after punch after punch up against the ropes. Suddenly, he breaks into a sprint, hitting the opposite ropes where he rebounds off... ...and leaps up into the air, catching Monosso under the chin with a back elbowsmash!] JD: OHHHH! HE CAUGHT HIM!! [The blow sends Monosso stumbling through the ropes to the floor. Preston leaps to his feet, pumping a fist as the crowd roars their approval... ...but Preston's not done, slingshotting himself over the ropes onto Monosso as soon as the big man regains his feet! Preston stays on top of him, throwing fist after fist after fist with the crowd roaring as we fade back to the locker room area... ...where "Superstar" Kevin Slater is standing alongside Mark Stegglet.] MS: Joining me at this time is the man formerly known as the Wild Thing, Kevin Sla- KS: The Wild Thing is dead and buried, Marky Mark. What you people are looking at now is the Superstar... the Outlaw if you will... the two-time former World Champion and the man who in just five short weeks is gonna beat Bobby Taylor at his own game. MS: Speaking of which, Bobby Taylor made quite the surprising announcement last weekend when he challenged you to Outlaw Rules at SuperClash 2! KS: Surprising? Surprising to who? MS: Well, you looked surpris- KS: I knew what was coming, Stegglet. When you've known a man as long as I've known Taylor... when you've spent vacations and holidays with a man's family... when you've traveled coast to coast and around the world in planes, trains, and automobiles like I have with Bobby Taylor, you know what they're going to do before they do it. And anyone who knows Bobby Taylor knows that he can't help himself but dredge up Hardin's memory whenever the hell he gets a chance. [Slater grins.] KS: But that's fine, Bobby. You tell your sob stories about good ol' Jay Dubba and how much he meant to you. I'm sure the geeks on the Internet will love hearing about it. Hell, the people in the cheap seats might love it too 'cause Percy Childes is right. The only thing these people care about anymore is nostalgia. We hear about how great Hardin was. We hear about great Temple was. Reed, James, Annis, whatever. We even have to hear people drool over the LWC like it was some holy ground for wrestling. [He shakes his head.] KS: It was a backwater territory that ran rodeogrounds and bingo halls. Am I supposed to be impressed, Stegglet? Me, Kevin Slater, a man who was two-time World Champion in a promotion that truly traveled the whole world. I went by private jets and limousines and I'm supposed to be impressed by the LWC. To hell with the LWC. To me, the LWC represents everything that's wrong with Bobby Taylor. It's old, useless, and was never as good as people claimed. [He laughs as Stegglet shakes his head.] KS: So, Bobby, if you're that determined to take me to hell in Outlaw Rules, so be it. But just remember, I've been to hell and I've come back better than ever each and every time. You want nostalgia, Bobby? Remember December of '97 in Toronto? [Slater nudges Stegglet.] KS: Of course he does, right? He never lets anyone forget it. Well, Bobby, what that parade of has-beens and never-weres did to you that night ain't nothing to what this man's gonna do to you at SuperClash. [One more smirk.] KS: Ain't life grand? [And Slater walks out of sight, leaving a disgusted Mark Stegglet behind... ...and we fade back to live action inside the ring where Vladimir Velikov fires Supernova into the ropes, flooring him with a side slam on the rebound.] JD: We're back to tournament action where the winner of this one moves on to face either Vernon Riley or Nenshou and either of those could prove to be very interesting. Joining me right now at ringside to keep an eye out on this match is Kolya Sudakov. Kolya, thank you for being out here. KS: I came to watch Uncle Vladimir. No more. JD: I see. Well, Kolya, you have a big match yourself next Saturday night when you meet former Olympian Sultan Azam Sharif. Your thoughts on that one? KS: Sharif is very good wrestler. Sharif is very good AMATEUR wrestler. Kolya is former AWA National Champion PROFESSIONAL wrestler. I think that say enough, Jason Dane. [Velikov is stomping and kicking Supernova on the canvas as we fade to footage deeper into the match.] JD: Velikov continues to work over Supernova in the corner, showing off that veteran instinct as he chokes him until four, breaks, and then chokes again. Are these the kind of tactics your Uncle used to teach you? KS: Uncle Vladimir teach Kolya many, many things. But when Uncle Vladimir gets in ring with Kolya, it's Kolya who will be the teacher. JD: Kind of like Darth Vader and Ben Kenobi? KS: You are... how you say... big geek. JD: Well put. [Velikov drags Supernova to his feet, flinging him towards the opposite corner. The big Russian charges in with a battle cry... ...but smashes chestfirst into the corner as Supernova lunges out of the way!] JD: Supernova avoids the charge and- KS: Uncle Vladimir in trouble now. Supernova strike very hard and very fast. [Grabbing Velikov by the arm, Supernova rockets him from corner to corner. Backing across the ring and delivering a howl, the Californian rampages across the ring, leaping high into the air... ...and CRASHES into the chest of a stunned Velikov!] JD: HEAT WAVE!! [With the Russian dazed, Supernova throws him down to the mat. He lifts Velikov's legs, crossing them up and then turning him over to his stomach.] JD: SOLAR FLARE!! HE'S GOT IT LOCKED!! [And it's not long at all before Vladimir Velikov submits to the Texas Cloverleaf to the cheers of the crowd.] JD: Supernova with a win by submission and he's moving on to the second round! KS: He is fine competitor. It would be great honor for Kolya to face him in the ring someday. JD: Or perhaps team with him in the Stampede Cup coming up in December? KS: I would be honored for that as well. JD: Kolya, thanks for joining me out here and good luck next weekend! [We fade from a celebrating Supernova to footage from backstage where Mark Stegglet is standing alongside the Moonshiners. Jug and Zeke are their usual wild-haired and wild-eyed selves but Mange seems more subdued. He's eyeing Stegglet like a piece of meat. Mark does not look pleased.] MS: Joining me at this time is- Mange: Hush, pretty. [Mange strokes Stegglet's hair. Ew.] Mange: You know what a pretty lil' fella like yourself can get into back 'round my parts? [We can only hope he means "where I live" from that last part.] Mange: Lots and lots of trouble, pretty. Lots of it. And if you ever get liquored up on a Friday night like my boys here and punch Mr. J.P. Lawdog square in the nose, you'll find yourself reeeeeeal popular down in the drunk tank. [Stegglet looks really uneasy now. More uneasy than before. Yes, it's possible.] MS: Gentlemen, I scheduled this time with you so you could talk about your match here in just a few moments against Juan Vasquez and Marcus Broussard! These two are two of the most- Mange: Shhhhh. [Mange puts his index finger up to Stegglet's lips.] Mange: You want to know how I feel about Vasquez and Broussard? [Mange chuckles deeply.] Mange: May as well ask me how I feel about those rats that keep crawlin' under my front porch back home, chewin' their way into the house where they keep tryin' to eat my dinner. You know what I hate most about Vasquez and Broussard? [Stegglet shakes his head silently.] Mange: They's what my mama would call "too big for their britches." [Jug howls at the sound of that and catches a hard cuff to the back of the head from Zeke.] Mange: They believes they own hype, pretty. They get all those stories written about 'em on the computers. They get their pretty faces on the magazine covers. And just 'cause the AWA and all those halfwit idiots in the crowd tell 'em that they leave the toilet smellin' like sunshine and roses, they think it so. I'm here to tell 'em it ain't. And I'm here to tell 'em that when my boys get through with 'em tonight, they might not look so pretty no more. Les' go, boys. [And Mange pats Stegglet softly on the cheek before the trio walks off camera leaving a frozen Mark Stegglet behind as we fade back to live action where we find Juan Vasquez and Marcus Broussard trading wild haymakers with the Moonshiners!] JD: Whoo boy! And awaaaaaay we go! It's a hot night here in San Antonio, Texas, and one of the top contenders to the AWA National Tag Team Titles is doing battle with two former National Champions! And joining me at this time is a tag team very interested in seeing how this turns out - Scotty Storm and Marty Morgan - the Rockstar Express! SS: Thanks for having us out here, JD. This is gonna be a fun one. MM: This is exactly why we love the AWA so much, baby. You've got a top flight tag team taking on two top flight singles wrestlers in a tag throwdown. And this is EXACTLY the kind of action you can expect to see in a few months at the Stampede Cup! JD: You guys are lookin' ahead to the Cup already? SS: You know it, JD. A million dollars and the chance to call yourself the best tag team walkin' God's green Earth? That's something that's right up the Rockstars' alley. [The crowd cheers for a running dropkick by Vasquez that sends Jug out to the floor and leaves Zeke prey for a double team.] JD: Double whip by Vasquez and Broussard... [A double back elbow puts Zeke down on the mat. At a shout, Vasquez hits the ropes, charging back... ...and jumps right into a hiptoss takeover by Broussard which sends Vasquez up and over into a senton splash on the downed Moonshiner!] JD: Ohhh! MM: Can I call that one, JD? JD: Sure. MM: SHADES OF TOMMY STEPHENS!! SS: Heheh... he's always wanted to do that. [Vasquez rolls off the downed Zeke, smirking at the cheers from the crowd, and takes off like a bullet... ...and DIVES THROUGH THE ROPES onto Jug!] JD: OHHHHHH QUE MORTAL!! A TOPE DIVE THROUGH THE ROPES!! SS: Ol' Juan Vasquez looked like someone shot him out of a pistol right there, baby. And that's exactly what he's gonna look like at SuperClash 2 when he gets in there with Sleazy Stevie Scott. JD: You're no fan of the National Champ, Scotty? SS: Oh, don't get me wrong. He's a heck of a wrestler. It's his attitude we don't care for. MM: That's right. Reminds us of those no good Blonde Bombers. SS: He's got a lot in common with 'em, that's true. Both talented cheaters who rely on some loudmouth outside the ring to get 'em to the next level. [We fade ahead a few minutes into the match where we find Zeke and Jug firing Vasquez into the ropes before taking him down to the mat with a high double backdrop!] JD: DOWN TO THE MAT GOES VASQUEZ!! MM: Come on, Juan. Take it to these turkeys. JD: Juan Vasquez needs to be very careful between now and Thanksgiving night, guys. Right now, he's got one last shot at the National Title within his reach and he can't afford to do anything to cost him that opportunity. SS: You know, that's exactly right, JD. He needs to be one hundred and ten percent going into SuperClash if he's gonna beat Scott, Waterson, and rest of those jackals. MM: If they even show up. I wouldn't show up and help Waterson if he ran me down like he did Dufresne and Freeman last week, no sir. JD: Another good point. [With Vasquez trying to recover, the Moonshiners ignore the referee's count and take turns delivering clubbing forearm smashes across the head of the rising Vasquez... ...and then switch to simultaneous double axehandle blows, raining them down over and over and over across the back and neck of the Number One contender.] JD: They're all over Juan Vasquez tonight! SS: Well, they should be, JD. If the 'Shiners can beat these two big names here in San Antone, they just might find themselves in a National Tag Team Title match before you know it. JD: Speaking of which, you guys find yourselves out in the cold at SuperClash. The Blonde Bombers have landed that shot at the champions, Rough N Ready, at the big event. MM: You don't need to remind us of that, JD. Those no good polecats cheated us at Battle On The Bayou with the help of that Menace character and now somehow the Championship Committee says they get the shot. Go figure. SS: That's right. We don't like to question the Committee but I think some of 'em might have been listening to too much Bob Marley when they made that call if you catch my meaning. JD: I certainly do. [The Moonshiners continue to hammer Juan Vasquez into the canvas, a move that finally brings Marcus Broussard into the fray, fists a flyin'. The referee steps in, forcing him out... ...which allows Vasquez to be violently hurled over the top rope by both 'Shiners, sending him crashing down to the floor below!] JD: OHHH! DOWN TO THE FLOOR GOES VASQUEZ! [Out on the floor, Mange promptly pulls Vasquez up by the hair... ...and RAMS his skull into the ringpost, dropping him like a rock!] JD: Mange attacks Vasquez on the floor! There's no call for that, guys! Absolutely no call for that! MM: Man, I tell ya I can't wait for the War Pigs to get a hold of these jokers. [Broussard quickly makes his way around the ring, chasing off Mange as he kneels down over his partner and we fade to later in the match... ...where Vasquez is getting double whipped into the ropes again.] JD: Off the far side... [A joined-hands double clothesline is easily ducked by Vasquez, allowing him to bounce off the far ropes, leaving his feet, and catching each 'Shiner square on the jaw with a split-legged dropkick to a big cheer from the crowd!] SS: Yeah! That's the ticket, brother! Get over there and make that tag! [A dazed Vasquez begins the crawl to the corner where a fired-up and waiting Marcus Broussard is waiting...] JD: TAG!! [The San Jose Shark charges into the ring to a big roar from the crowd. A barrage of punches on a surprised Zeke ends with him being hurled into the ropes.] JD: Zeke off the ropes... boot to the gut... and now Broussard to the ropes... [A rebounding Broussard hooks a loose facelock, snapping Zeke down to the mat with a swinging neckbreaker!] JD: Ohh! That'll put that big man down! [Popping back to his feet, Broussard charges the turned back of Jug, leaping up to plant a knee squarely between the shoulderblades, a blow that sends Jug over the ropes to the floor!] MM: Hook him, Shark! [The San Jose Shark pauses, turning back towards Zeke who is trying to struggle to his feet... ...and grabs him in a bearhug, popping the hips as he propels Zeke into a twisting belly to belly suplex, driving him down to the canvas!] JD: BELLY TO BELLY!! THAT'LL DO IT!! ONE!! TWO!! THRE- [The crowd jeers wildly as Mange grabs the ankle of the official, pulling him out to the floor... ...and catches both feet in the face from a suddenly baseball sliding Juan Vasquez!] JD: DOWN GOES MANGE!! [Broussard pulls Zeke off the mat, hooking him for a suplex. He hoists the brawler into the air, dropping him down on the top rope. The San Jose Shark quickly turns so that Zeke's jaw is braced against his shoulder... ...and DROPS straight down in an Ace Crusher!] JD: OHHHH! He jacked his jaw on that one! [The first AWA National Champion rolls Zeke to his back as he applies a lateral press for one... two... but a returning Jug dives on top of the pile, breaking up the pin attempt!] JD: So close! If Jug hadn't made the save there, this one would be over. MM: I'm gettin' fixed to get up there and stop this madness myself, JD. JD: Please stay right here, Marty. [Jug pulls Broussard off his partner by the hair, blasting him with a standing clothesline that knocks the Shark back into the corner. A few more standing clotheslines follow as Zeke gets back up off the mat.] JD: The Moonshiners on the attack - double whip by the brawlers... [As Broussard rebounds, he gets turned inside out and dumped down to the mat with a giant double boot to the jaw!] JD: OH MY GOD! MM: Eeesh. I'd hate eatin' that one. JD: That could be it right there! [Zeke applies a lateral press as his partner stands lookout.] JD: ONE!! TWO!! THRE- [The crowd cheers as Juan Vasquez slings himself back into the ring using the bottom rope, breaking up the pin attempt!] JD: Another close call right there! [Vasquez immediately gets to his feet, leaping straight up and popping a surprised Jug in the back of the head with a kick!] JD: ENZUGIRI! RIGHT ON TARGET!! [With Jug dazed from the headkick, Vasquez grabs him by his wild blonde hair and HURLS him over the ropes to the floor!] JD: Jug's outta there... [Vasquez shakes Broussard hard, trying to revive his partner.] JD: He's got Broussard back up... what in the world are they doing now? [The San Jose Shark and Vasquez work to get Zeke back to his feet. Broussard picks him up, setting him down on the top rope as Vasquez heads to the adjacent corner.] JD: What are- Broussard's going for a superplex! [Reaching the top rope, the San Jose Shark loops Zeke's arm across the back of his neck as Vasquez steps up to the middle rope. With a shout to fall into rhythm, Broussard hoists Zeke up into the air as Vasquez steps up top, springing backwards...] JD: MOONSAULT! [The San Jose Shark brings Zeke CRASHING down to the canvas just before Vasquez SMASHES down across the chest with a moonsault!] JD: OHHHHHH! MM: Good gravy! I've never seen nothin' like that! JD: ONE!! TWO!! THREEEEEEEE!!! "DING! DING! DING!" [The crowd cheers an obviously exhausted and battered Juan Vasquez and Marcus Broussard as they slowly get to their feet, raising their arms in triumph.] JD: Juan Vasquez and Marcus Broussard score the win in this one but it took EVERYTHING they had. The Moonshiners really brought the fight to these two men, gentlemen. MM: The 'Shiners proved their two tough hombres and when they finally tussle with the Pigs, it's gonna be one heck of a throwdown. SS: But you gotta be impressed by Vasquez and Broussard too. They just put down a team that has been working together a long, long time. It took all they had in their games but they pulled it off. Great match, JD. JD: It certainly was. And gentlemen, I'd like to thank you both once again for helping me out here tonight. MM: Ain't no thang, JD. Now, if you'll excuse us, we've got some lovely young San Antonio ladies waiting for us back down the street at the Hyatt! SS: Woooo, baby! [And as Vasquez and Broussard celebrate, we fade to later in the show where we find Jesse Ewiak in the ring, just before his first round tournament match with the house mic in hand.] JE: Don't worry, I'll make this quick. I realize you're used to guys like Stevie Scott out here talking all night but I'll say what I need and get this fight started up. [Pause as Ewiak looks down for a moment, then out to the crowd.] JE: Ya' know Rob, we're not that much different. We're both taller than even the average wrestler, we're both older than a whole lot other damn locker room, and we've both been out of the spotlight for a while. [Beat.] JE: Of course, some may argue if I was ever truly in the spotlight. But, here's the thing. You think ya' deserve this title because you wrestled for the LWC a decade back. Well, I'm here to tell ya' you don't deserve a damn thing. I'm not going to be your stepping stone bub, so let's get this thing going. It ain't gonna' be pretty, it won't have any planchas or great chain wrestling, but you're about to see two big SOB's go after each other like bulls for one last shot at gold. Hell, this just might be fun. [He tosses the mic back to the ring announcer as we fade to later in the match... ...where Robert Donovan is laying a big time beating on him outside the ring, smashing him with several haymakers before hurling him down the aisle to the floor.] JD: Robert Donovan is taking the fight to Jesse Ewiak right now! These two men are battling to see who will move to the second round where "Gentleman" Jack Holland is awaiting the winner. Remember, Robert Donovan entered himself into this tournament because he competed in the Longhorn Wrestling Council many years ago and he wants to make sure the legacy of that promotion is done proud with this title belt! [In the aisle, Donovan pulls Ewiak off the floor, hooking him around the head and neck... ...and BIEL THROWS HIM INTO THE RAILING!!] JD: OHHHHHH! Well, if there was ever something to live up to the legacy of the LWC, that was it! The LWC was known for it's wild brawling and Robert Donovan is bringing that to San Antonio right now at this special live event! [Pulling Ewiak off the floor again, Donovan drapes his throat over the steel barricade, leaning his 345 pounds down on the back of the neck, strangling the air of the Last Good Man as we fade to later in the show where the action is back inside the ring.] JD: Ewiak is tearing into him with right hands! He's fighting back, trying to get back on track here for the first time in this match. In all honesty, Ewiak has had a hard time getting on track here in the AWA at all! He comes into this tournament with practically no momentum and needs a good showing here tonight. [With Donovan staggered and breathing heavily, Ewiak ducks in, scooping the 345 pounder into the air... ...and somehow powering him up over his shoulder!] JD: HE'S GOT HIM UP!! MY GOD, HOW DID HE- [Ewiak lets loose a big roar as he stampedes out of the corner, DRIVING Donovan down to the canvas with a running powerslam!] JD: OH MY GOD!! [He pops to his feet, hitting the closest ropes to rebound back, leaping high into the air to bury an elbow down into the heart of Donovan before applying a quick cover.] JD: ONE!! TWO!! THR- DONOVAN KICKS OUT!! [But the big man is visibly sucking wind as he rolls away from Ewiak, right out on the ring apron as we fade to later in the match where the two men are brawling on the floor once again.] JD: Donovan has brought this fight back outside the ring! [The seven footer sneaks a knee into the midsection of the fiery Ewiak, stopping his offensive flurry short. He seizes the opportunity to grab Ewiak by the wrist... ...and YANKS him into a short-arm clothesline!] JD: Donovan floors him with the short-arm clothesline and- [The big man promptly leaps into the air, dropping a leg across the chest of the downed Ewiak!] JD: Good grief! A legdrop out on the floor! [Donovan rolls off Ewiak, wincing as he clutches his tailbone in pain. He shakes his head as he pulls Ewiak off the mat, shoving him under the ropes into the ring as we fade to later in the match.] JD: Ewiak's on the attack! Right hand! Right hand! Right hand! [Using his momentum, Ewiak dashes to the ropes behind him, rebounding off... ...and FLOORING Donovan with a massive spear tackle!] JD: HE SPEARS THE BIG MAN!! [Ewiak pops up to his feet, throwing his arms apart with a triumphant roar!] JD: Jesse Ewiak is fired up! Look at him, fans! [Seeing Donovan down and hurting, Ewiak points to the top rope.] JD: And this could be a mistake. He hit the spear but didn't go for a pin attempt. Instead, he's heading outside to climb to the top rope and very rarely does it turn out well for a 270 pounder to head up top! [Ewiak steps up to the middle rope, nodding his head at the fans before he goes the rest of the way up, looking down at a slowly rising Robert Donovan...] JD: Donovan to a knee... now all the way up... EWIAK!! [The Palm Bay, Florida native leaps from the top rope, arm outstretched.] JD: FLYING CLOTHESLI- OHHHH! HE MISSED! HE MISSED!! [Donovan, having narrowly avoided the top rope clothesline, staggers over towards the downed Ewiak. He reaches down, hooking a gutwrench... ...and deadlifts Ewiak off the mat, twisting him in the air, and DRIVING him down to the canvas with a thunderous powerbomb!] JD: GUT! WRENCH! POWERBOMB!! [Donovan drops down to a knee on the follow-through, slumping over into a lateral press.] JD: ONE!! TWO!! THREE!!!! "DING! DING! DING!" [The aging big man slowly gets back to his feet, hands on hips as he breathes heavily for a moment, looking down at Ewiak. He gives a short nod of what could possibly be respect before stepping over the ropes and making his way back down the aisle as we fade back to the locker room area where Mark Stegglet is standing with two men who look... happy?] MS: I have with me, two men who exemplify just how important becoming the first holder Longhorn Heritage title is...Jackson Haynes and Danny Morton, Violence Unlimited! Gentlemen, you two have the odd circumstance of having to wrestle _each other_ in order to advance in the Longhorn Heritage title tournament. Your thoughts going into tonight's match? DM: I...am...EXCITED, Mark Stegglet! [He holds up his hand to Stegglet's face.] DM: You see my hand? I'm...SHAKING with excitement! Literally shaking! [Morton rubs his hands together with nervous anticipation.] DM: This is like Christmas morning, an Easter Egg Hunt, and ten fist fights with Tin Can Rust rolled into one! Little buddy, I couldn't be any more ecstatic if Soup Bone Samson ran down here right now and punched me in the face! [With that, Morton proceeds to slap himself several times and scream an enthusiastic "YEEEAHHHH!" Steggy seems to be more than a bit disturbed.] MS: "Punched you in the face?" What does that even mean!? [Suddenly, he's turned around by the massive paw of Jackson Haynes.] JH: It MEANS, Stegglet...that we're always ready for a fight! It doesn't matter who's standing across the ring, because we ain't ever gonna' be... [Haynes pauses and snorts, before holding his fingers and making air quotes.] JH: ..."conflicted" about beatin' the holy hell out of _anybody!_ [Haynes rubs the back of his head and grins.] JH: Maybe a cowgirl boot-wearin' ballerina like Larry Doyle is shakin' in his skirt at the thought of his "boys" wrasslin' each other. Maybe a couple of poodle-walkin', twinkle-toed flower pickers like the Blonde Bombers would be afraid that havin' to fight each other would affect their "relationship." Maybe them Samoans would have second thoughts about bashin' each others' brains in 'cause it'll hurt someone's..."feelings." [Haynes rolls his eyes and spits on the ground as Morton pulls the microphone back towards him, cackling.] DM: Not us! [Without warning, Haynes hauls off and _chops_ Morton right in the chest! Morton comes right back and chops Haynes right back! The two then proceed to stand there and scream at each other for a few seconds before Haynes pulls the microphone close to him.] JH: You see this man??? Danny Morton is like a _brother_ to me! And I don't care! I don't give a damn what might happen to him when we step into the ring tonight! He doesn't care either! Son, I'll tell you right now...we're gonna' kick the ever-lovin' crud outta' each other for that title! DM: And if we're willing to do that to each other... [Morton chuckles.] DM: ...just imagine what we're willing to do to everyone else! [The two exchange a high-five before stalking off-camera, prepared to go to war...with each other as we fade... ...to the ring where they're actually standing, staring each other in the eye waiting for the bell.] JD: The final first round matchup of the night! One of these two men will move on to face The Masked Menace in the second round. But just who will it be? We're about to find out as referee Mickey Meekly gives the final instructions and- [As the bell rings, the two men MELT DOWN in a barrage of punches, chops, and elbows flying at one another!] JD: HOLY HELL! [With the crowd roaring at the total slugfest, Danny Morton seems to get an edge with a series of knife-edge chops coming dangerously close to the throat.] JD: Look at the American Murder Machine lettin' 'em fly! As many fans know, I have an extensive collection of wrestling matches from Japan and even as Americans, these two men are revered in the Land of the Rising Sun as being two of the toughest individuals to ever step into a ring in that country. It is such a great privilege to be able to see them compete here in the AWA! [The near-three hundred pounder continues to tee off, battering Haynes back into the corner. Once in the buckles, Morton switches up, throwing a right-handed chop and then blasting his partner with a right cross on the way back across his body before hitting another chop. The barrage continues for several moments... ...before a wild-eyed Haynes just reaches out, grabbing his partner by the ears, and flipping the advantage around, putting Morton back against the buckles. A stiff-fingered thrust into the throat leaves Morton gasping for air, clutching the top rope.] JD: Ohh! He caught him in the windpipe with that one! [A few picture perfect right hands land on the skull of the man known as Professor Pain before Haynes grabs the wrist, firing his partner from corner to corner. With a wild bellow, he marches across the ring, blasting his own tag team partner with a brutal clothesline... ...to which Morton responds by stepping out of the corner, sticking his tongue out and smacking himself in the chest repeatedly!] JD: Oh my god! Danny Morton took a fierce clothesline from Jackson Haynes and that crazy man didn't even feel it! [Haynes responds with a knee to the gut, doubling up Morton. He reaches back, hooking him around the head and neck and taking him over with a snap mare... ...and absolutely CREAMS him with a crossfacing forearm smash across the cheekbone, knocking Morton flat on the mat!] JD: I'm guessing he felt that one! Good grief! [As Morton rolls around in pain on the mat, we fade to later in the matchup as Haynes is hauling his partner up to his feet by the wrist. He yanks him closer and pops him with a right-armed clothesline, knocking Morton down but keeping a grip on the left arm, hauling him immediately back up for a second clothesline.] JD: A pair of short-arm clotheslines on the mark right there and it looks like we might be seeing a trio of them... [Haynes goes for a third, Morton easily ducking it before hooking his partner around the waist.] JD: WAISTLOCK!! [The big man from Oklahoma hoists Haynes into the air, dumping him down on the back of his head and neck with a high impact German suplex!] JD: GERMAN SUPLEX!! [Morton rolls back to his feet, still holding the waistlock, and then spins Haynes around into a bearhug before powering him up, throwing him down to the mat with an overhead belly to belly!] JD: GOOD GRIEF! [The 285 pounder measures his man, watching him slowly get up to his feet... ...and charges towards him, leaping into the air to connect with a running dropkick that sends Haynes sailing over the ropes and out to the floor!] JD: OVER THE TOP GOES THE HAMMER!! HE'S OUT TO THE FLOOR!! [And without a hesitation, the American Murder Machine goes right out after him, dropping off the apron next to him on the floor as we fade to later in the matchup where we find Morton holding Haynes over his head. With a roar, he powers him up into a military press...] JD: Look at the power! Danny Morton just military pressed a 310 pounder like it was absolutely nothing! [Showing off his true power, Morton lowers him down, Haynes' stomach touching the top of Morton's head... ...and pushes him RIGHT! BACK! UP!] JD: Sheer power and strength on display by Danny Morton! He's pressing him up and down like it's nothing and- [Morton hurls him down to the mat with a big thud, smashing his fists into his chest again as he shouts out to the crowd who responds with a big roar.] JD: These fans are going wild for this matchup! Violence Unlimited are quickly becoming big fan favorites here in the AWA! [Marching to the corner, Morton drops down into a three-point stance, kicking his rear foot as he waits for his opponent to rise... ...and then charges across the ring as Haynes gets to his feet, ready to smash home the shoulder tackle but Haynes deftly sidesteps, knowing it was coming...] JD: He dodges the charge! [And immediately straightens up and UNCORKS a brutal clothesline to the back of Morton's head, knocking him flat!] JD: ENZUILARIATO! MORTON GOES DOWN LIKE HE WAS HIT WITH A LOUISVILLE SLUGGER! [Haynes immediately dives upon his partner, only scoring a two count before Morton fires a shoulder up and we fade to later in the match. Haynes has him outside the ring, blasting him with alternating rights and left before snapping off a beautiful measured left hand that knocks Morton off his feet and down to a knee.] JD: Now THAT'S a left hand! [The Hammer hooks his partner in a front facelock, slamming his knee up into the upper body. A few more knees find the target before he hauls him the rest of the way up in the facelock, shoving him under the ropes into the ring. Haynes rolls in as well, popping up to his feet where he drags Morton to a vertical base as well. A few haymakers find the mark, knocking Morton back into the corner.] JD: Another whip! [Morton gets sent from corner to corner, crashing spinefirst into the buckles. With a whoop, Haynes dashes across the ring and lowers the boom as he connects with a big, big boot to the jaw!] JD: OHHHHHHHHH! [As Morton stumbles out towards him, Haynes buries a boot deep in the midsection before stepping into a standing headscissors.] JD: Oh no... oh no, watch out for this! [Haynes powers Morton all the way up into the air, pausing at the apex for a moment... ...before nearly driving Morton THROUGH the mat with a powerbomb!] JD: POWERBOMB!! THAT'S IT!! [Haynes drops down on his partner, applying a lateral press.] JD: ONE!! TWO!! THRE- ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! [The crowd roars for Danny Morton as he kicks out at two, avoiding the pinfall. Haynes sits up, shaking his head with a goofy grin on his face. He rolls to his knees, throwing a few right hands at Morton before dragging him off the mat. He shoves him back into the corner, kicking away at the lower body.] JD: Another whip across the ring... here comes the Hammer! [Jackson Haynes marches across the ring and DRILLS Morton with a running clothesline. He promptly grabs the arm, hurling Morton across the ring once again... ...and charges across the ring, connecting with another big clothesline!] JD: TWO BIG CLOTHESLINES FROM CORNER TO CORNER!! [Haynes drops back, throwing his arms back with a roar... ...and gets CREAMED as Morton throws himself out of the buckles with a KING-SIZED LARIAT!] JD: GOOOOOOD GOD ALMIGHTY!! [Morton dives across the downed Haynes, gesturing for the referee to count.] JD: ONE!! TWO!! THRE- SHOULDER UP!! SHOULDER UP!! WHAT IN THE WORLD DO THESE TWO MEN HAVE TO DO TO FINISH THE OTHER MAN OFF?! [Morton quickly gets back to his feet, shaking his head as he pulls his partner up by his dirty blond hair. He dips down, scooping him up, throwing him over his shoulder.] JD: Morton's got him up! We could see an Oklahoma Stampede here! [And that appears to be his intention as he dashes to one corner, smashing Haynes' back into the buckles, spinning around to charge out to the middle of the ring...] JD: POWERSLA- no! [At the last moment, Haynes slips out the back door, landing on his feet and rearing back his right hand. Just as Morton turns around, Haynes lets the right hand fly, thumb extended, and smashes it into the side of Morton's throat!] JD: WHISKEY LULLABY! THE ASIATIC SPIKE! [Morton collapses, hands shooting up to his throat as Haynes dives atop him, tightly hooking both legs.] JD: ONE!! TWO!! THREEEEEEE!! "DING! DING! DING!" JD: Jackson Haynes, the Hammer, is your winner and he'll advanced to the second round to take on The Masked Menace in what should a brutal, physical matchup between those two men. [And as Haynes helps his partner to his feet, the two men embrace in the middle of the ring... ...when suddenly James J. Dallas and the Samoan Hit Squad emerge from the locker room. But these three men do not rush the ring to inflict another beatdown. Dallas smiles at the scene in the ring and slowly applauds to the confusion of both Haynes and Morton as we fade to black.]