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American Wrestling Alliance 
Proudly Presents 
THE MAIN EVENT!

Live from the Crockett Coliseum 
Dallas, Texas 
March 26th, 2011
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[As the closing notes to the Andy Griffith Show theme fades into
nothing, the viewing audience is greeted by a quick but subtle
synthisized drumbeat in the background as a shot fills the screen.  The
backdrop: an AWA Main Event logo.

The foreground? A swath of reddish-brown and white, as the
bisht-and-kaffiyeh clad Sultan Azam Sharif stands front and center.  His
eyes stare ahead determinedly at the camera; his weatherbeaten face with
well-groomed mustache \ conveys a very serious expression.]

SAS: OntollEgunt AmerEcuns know: Sultan Azam Shairf, Olympic shampwon,
Ahsun Games shampwon!  OntollEgunt AmerEcuns know dot Sultan Azam Sharif
is gunna get my hands on Supairnova un make him pay for dot what he done
to my managaire, Mistair Count Batwaite!

BUT REMEMBAH!  I diddunt forget vhy I come to deh AWA!  I come to vin
AWA Nashnull Shampwonship!  Dot is vhy, aftair I teach dot jehbronie
Supairnova, un his bird-vatchair friend Coorax, un dot idiyet Tylair
Lee, all about raspec!  Den I gonna throw dem all out un be deh Battail
Royal Shampwon!  Vun more step closair to deh Nashnull SHampwonship, un
vun more step to make all AmerEcun know dot... IRAN!  IRAN!  IRAN,
NUMBAH WUN!

[The pounding bassline continues as we crossfade ahead to the next
"Louisville Slugger" Tyler Lee standing in front of an AWA backdrop. Lee
is dressed in blue jeans, a black shirt and has his Louisville Slugger
ball bat in his hand.]

TK: Hey folks! Tonight I got the opportunity to claim that number 30
spot in the Memorial Day Rumble... but more importantly, I get the
chance to knock some sense into a few people! I know the Sultan of
Salami is gonna be there, I know Vladimir Velikov is gonna be there, and
those are two people who really need some sense knocked into them... and
in the Sultan's case, a punch right in the mouth that may shut him up
for good! And I know I may have to go through Supernova and Corax to
come away with the win, but that's what I'll have to do and I'm sure
they'll understand... as for the rest of you, friend or foe, whether I
know you or not, whether I like you or not, I'm gonna do my best to go
through everybody, win this thing and then ride that win to a win in the
Memorial Day Rumble... big boy!
 
[Fade to the next competitor... or in this case, competitors as Ivan
Kostovich stands between Vladimir Velikov and Kolya Sudakov, both
dressed for action.]

IK:  The AWA's birthday party.  And I can not think of a better gift
than to re-establish the Russians as the TRUE power of the American
Wrestling Alliance with one swift stroke.  

The plan is simple - win the battle royal, move on to Memorial Day
Mayhem and win the Rumble, and then put the National Title BACK where it
belongs - in our hands.

[Kostovich grins, rubbing his hands together with an evil intent as we
fade to the next shot - this one of three masked luchadors, the
SouthWest Lucha Libre trio of El Corazon Negro, El Caliente, and Super
Solar.]

ECN:  Hola, muchachos!  It has been a while since the stars of SouthWest
Lucha Libre have come to the AWA but this was too big of an opportunity
to pass up.  A shot at the #30 slot in the annual Rumble?  

SS:  Yeah, but, there can only be one winner!  You'd both do well to
remember that.

EC:  I remember it, Solar!  I know there can only be one winner - and
it's gonna be me!

[The three masked men are arguing incoherently as we fade to the next
shot.  It is the face-painted wrestler, Supernova, as he is shown
standing in the locker room. His face is already painted, he already has
his wrestling gear on... and the cast that was on his hand is no longer
there. Looks like he's ready to go... and now he's ready to speak.]

S: Sharif! You and I now both know that, sooner or later, we'll be
meeting up one on one... but tonight, I'm still gonna find a way to get
my hands on you! You thought you had an advantage when you and Velikov
broke my wrist... you complained about me using the cast as a weapon...
well, you don't need to worry about the cast any longer.

[Then he raises his hands and clenches them into fists.]
 
S: But you sure gotta worry about these two weapons coming right for
you! I don't care who I have to get through or who stands in my way,
because I'm going to see to it that, tonight, in this battle royale,
that you are going to feel the heat from Supernova!

[He then lowers his hands.]
 
S: As for the rest of you, I'll just say this... once I've taken care of
Sharif, you can bet the heat will really be turned up as I go on to win
this match and get that final draw for the Rumble!

[He raises his hands once more, only to cup them to his mouth and howl.
Fade as the synth drums kick up and explode into the sounds of
Animotion's "Obsession."  As the music starts, three words pop up in
red, white, and blue font on the screen.

THE

MAIN

EVENT!

The title image fades away to a barrage of still photo shots of the
participants in the night's matches into one giant collage of photos
that freeze for a moment before shattering into pieces.

As the pieces fall apart to reveal a screaming giant crowd jammed into
the Crockett Coliseum as the voice of Gordon Myers is heard over the
cheers.]

GM:  Hello everybody and welcome to Dallas, Texas!  We are live in the
Crockett where we've got a jam-packed house tonight along with some
friends down the road in the WKIK Studios watching as well for another
great AWA event.  It's our Third Anniversary Show - and that means it's
time for THE MAIN EVENT, Bucky! 

[The camera shot dissolves to reveal Gordon and Bucky standing on a
raised announce platform quite a distance away from the wrestling ring
that can be seen in the background sporting red, white, and blue ropes. 
Gordon's in a traditional black suit with red tie and Bucky... well,
Bucky's quite non-traditional in a red sportcoat with silver glittery
text on the back that reads, "THREE-TIME AOTY!"]

BW:  It's The Main Event and it's a show like only the AWA can do,
daddy!  And it is your great honor, I'm sure, to be calling this match
with the three-time Announcer of the Year, Buckthorn Wilde, Gordo.

GM:  Of course.  Now, let's talk about this fantastic lineup tonight. 
It is so jammed with talent that we're busting at the seams.  We've got
three big title matches, Bucky.

BW:  Nenshou defending the Longhorn Heritage Title against Brian Von
Braun.  The National Tag Team Titles on the line with Rough N Ready
meeting the #1 contenders, Violence Unlimited.  And don't forget THE
Main Event with Juan Vasquez putting the big gold, the National Title,
on the line against the giant MAMMOTH Mizusawa.

GM:  And you've gone on record - you think the National Title changes
hands tonight.

BW:  Unless Juan Vasquez has sixteen rabbit feet, a horseshoe hangin'
'round his neck, and chowed down on some magic beans, that belt is goin'
home with the Matsui Corporation tonight!

GM:  That remains to be seen.  In addition to the huge title matches,
we've got a STEEL CAGE SHOWDOWN over one year in the making, Bucky, when
Calisto Dufresne FINALLY has to pay for his sins when he steps inside a
steel HELL with City Jack.

BW:  It's been a storybook comeback for City Jack - the kind of return
that movies are made of, daddy.  But there's one big difference.  There
will be NO happy ending for City Jack here tonight.  Dufresne's out for
two things inside that cage - Jack's eye and his career - and I'd wager
he takes them both here tonight in Dallas.

GM:  Plus the first women's match in AWA history... what promises to be
a brutal brawl between Alex Martinez and James Monosso... two very
different tag team matches with The Aces meeting the Rockstars and the
Moonshiners meeting Eric Preston and... who the heck is gonna team with
Preston?  We've heard absolutely nothing on that front!

BW:  It's like tying yourself to a sinking ship, Gordo.  Not a lot of
people gettin' in line for that.

GM:  Finally, we've got that big open invitational battle royal that
will go down to find out who will hold the #30 slot in the annual Rumble
coming up in two months' time.  That's a big one, Bucky.

BW:  It is, Gordo, because coming in last for the Rumble puts you in
prime position to walk out as the top challenger for the AWA National
Title.  And if you're in this business, that's what it's all about.

GM:  You know that's true because we've got stars here from Japan, from
Mexico, even from other promotions here in the United States, all trying
to win that Battle Royal - to get that last slot in the Rumble, and to
quite possibly walk out of Memorial Day Mayhem as the top challenger for
the AWA National Title.  It's the biggest prize in our sport and they're
coming out of the woodwork tonight for a shot at it.  It's a big, big
night, fans and-

BW:  Not so fast, Gordo.  What about The Call Of The Wilde?

GM:  What about it?  You won't tell us a single thing.

BW:  I'm tellin' ya now.  It's going to be one of the biggest moments in
AWA history bar none.  My guest on there will shock these fans, will
stun the locker room, and will change the course of AWA history...
again... daddy!

GM:  Again?  What do you mean by that?

BW:  That's the only hint you get, Gordo.

GM:  Well, I know we're looking forward to that... but we've also got
The Money Pit tonight!

BW:  Forget the Money Pit!  It's as bankrupt as Michaelson's bank
account!

GM:  The Money Pit will pay tribute to a veteran - a hero to the fans of
Texas wrestling - Blackjack Lynch tonight.  Most fans heard earlier this
week the big news that the AWA has purchased - lock, stock, and barrel -
Premier Championship Wrestling that is based right here in Dallas.  Mr.
Lynch is the owner of that company and he'll be on hand tonight in the
Money Pit to address that situation.

BW:  The Money Pit has some old decrepit dinosaur that USED to be
relevant... and then there's Blackjack Lynch!  HAH!

[Gordon shakes his head at his partner.]

GM:  Fans, let's get this night going in the right direction with some
tag team action.  We've got two of our broadcast colleagues in the back
tonight to get us interviews throughout the evening - Mark Stegglet and
Jason Dane - so take it away, gentlemen!

[Cut to Mark Stegglet standing with the Aces flanking him on either
side.  Stegglet's in his usual clothing style.  The Aces are wearing
their wrestling gear.  "Sweet" Stevie is to Stegglet's right, and
"Delicious" Danny is to his left.]

MS:  The challenge was answered by the Rockstar Express two weeks ago,
gentlemen.  What started at the Stampede Cup on Christmas Day comes full
circle tonight.  Your thoughts?

SC:  I stand here and can't help but think about Christmas Day,
Steggles.  The Aces made their debut and took the Rockstar Express to
the limit, daddy.  Our next match ended with the First Family laying the
Aces and the Rockstar Express out in front of the great fans here in
Dallas.

[A grin.]

SC:  And then the Rockstar Express come down and help restart our match
after the First Family took one by crook so that we could get our hands
raised in victory.  For the last few weeks, I've been watchin' the
Rockstar Express layout opponents with their devastating double
dropkick.  Ya know what that tells me, Steggorella?

MS:  What does that tell you, Stevie?

SC:  It tells me the Rockstar Express is primed for tonight.  No
excuses.  No distractions.  That's just the way I want it.  What started
on Christmas Day... ENDS TONIGHT!  And whether it's win or lose, daddy. 
The Aces are setting their sights on the National Tag Team
Championships.

MS:  Danny?

DT:  I had a lot of time to talk to the fans earlier today at the WKIK
studios.  It was a privilege to get the great fans here in Dallas up
close and personal.  But as I sat there and signed autographs, had my
picture taken, I thought about tonight.

[Tyler pauses.]

DT:  It was one little boy named who really got me thinking, Mark. See? 
He walked up rockin' his Rockstar Express t-shirt.  He told me, "Mr.
Tyler.  I think the Aces are a great team, but you're not as good as the
Rockstar Express."

[Tyler laughs a bit.]

DT:  You know what I wanted to do after that, Mark?

MS:  What's that, Danny?

DT:  It made me all the more inspired to come out here and not let the
fans of the Aces down tonight.  There have been some harsh words in the
past.  There have been some allegations thrown around.  Four men who
pride themselves at being the best at their craft are going to step into
that ring tonight to end something that started three months ago.

[Stevie reaches behind Stegglet and slaps Tyler on the shoulder.]

DT:  Tonight?  No excuses from the Aces.  Tonight?  We prove to the AWA,
the fans, and the Championship Committee we're worth of holding that
fifteen pounds of gold that tells the world who the best tag team is.

MS:  What about the First Family?  Is business with them done?

DT:  We have one win.  They've been banned from ringside tonight.  If
Adam and Brother Cain want another match?

SC:  Daddy, the Aces ain't hard to find.

[The Aces walk off camera.]

MS:  The Aces... are... ready!  But what about their opponents?  My good
friend, Jason Dane, is standing by with Marty and Scotty, the Rockstar
Express!  Jason?

[We fade to another part of the backstage area where Marty Morgan and
Scotty Storm, the Rockstar Express, are dressed for battle with Jason
Dane standing between them.]

JD:  Thanks, Mark.  As you can see, gentlemen, the Aces are ready for
you both here tonight.

[Scotty Storm nods, leaning in over the mic as he points to the camera.]

SS:  The Aces are ready, the Aces are ready - just what the heck do ya
think the Rockstar Express is, baby?  

JD:  Ready?

MM:  That's right, JD.  The Rockstar Express is ready too.  We're ready
to head on out of here tonight, find us a bunch of lovely Dallas ladies,
head on down to the Sky Lounge on Fifth Street where the VIP section is
reserved for us ALL NIGHT LONG, and then on down to the Marriott where
it's truly No Holds Barred 'cause anything goes, baby!

[Scotty gets a big grin.]

SS:  We're ready for all that too... but I was talking about the match,
Marty.

[Marty claps his hands together.]

MM:  Aces!  We're ready for ya too!  We've been hittin' the gym, we've
been studying tapes!  We know what you're gonna do before you know
you're gonna do it, baby!  

SS:  You know, JD, there's a lot of talk around here about the National
Tag Team Titles.  Rough N Ready's got the gold but they got one heck of
a challenge ahead of them here tonight in Violence Unlimited.  No one
knows what's gonna happen there but whoever wins has a big ol' list of
challengers huntin' 'em.  You got those mean and nasty Moonshiners... ya
got the First Family... ya got the Aces.. ya got us... bunch of others. 
Everyone wants a shot at the gold!  

But tonight, we're gonna finish what we started on Christmas Night,
baby.  We're gonna beat the Aces... we're gonna show the world that
we're the better team.. and we're gonna show the Championship Committee
EXACTLY who the top contenders for the National Tag Team Titles are.

MM:  Look out, baby, 'cause this train's a-comin'!  Wooo!

[A big high five between the Rockstars punctuates the interview as they
jog out of view to leave Jason Dane behind.]

JD:  You talk about ready and you've gotta be talkin' about the Rockstar
Express!  Two of the best teams in the sport... but only one can walk
out the winner and quite possibly, the next challengers for the tag team
titles.  Gordon, Bucky - back to you!

[We fade back to the announce desk.]

GM:  Thanks, Jason.  This should be a tremendous tag team matchup
between two of the most popular tag teams in the entire AWA.  And when
Jason says this match will have tag team title implications, he's not
kidding, Bucky.

BW:  He's not.  My sources in the Championship Committee says that
they're prepared to name the winner of this match the new #1 contenders
and the first team to get a shot at the winner of tonight's National Tag
Team Title match, Gordo.

GM:  Which makes this match even more important than we thought.  Phil
Watson is in the ring, filling in tonight for Melissa Cannon, so let's
go down to him for the introductions!

[Crossfade to the ring where Phil Watson is indeed standing.]

PW:  The following tag team match is your OPENING CONTEST of the night!

[Big cheer!]

PW:  It is set for one fall with a fifteen minute time limit. 
Introducing first, already in the ring at this time... from
Jacksonville, Florida... at a total combined weight of 415 pounds...
"Delicious" Danny Tyler... "Sweet" Stevie Childes...

THE AAAAAAAAACES!

[Tyler and Childes each leap up to a midbuckle, saluting the cheering
fans who are roaring for them.  Tyler hops down as Childes goes a bit
more flashy, stepping to the top before backflipping down to the middle
of the ring to get even more cheers from the crowd.]

PW:  And their opponents...

[The sounds of KISS' "Rock And Roll All Nite" kicks in to a HUGE CHEER!]

PW:  From Rock And Roll City, USA... at a total combined weight of 445
pounds... Scotty Storm... Marty Morgan...

THE RRRRRRROOOOOCKSTARRRR EXXXXXPRESSSSSS!

[The cheers intensify as Morgan and Storm burst through the curtain,
pointing out to the cheering crowd.  They pause just beyond the
entrance, standing on the ramp rocking their heads back and forth to the
music and as the music starts in on the chorus, they lead the crowd in a
sing-a-long.]

"I WANNA ROCK AND ROLL ALL NIIIIIIITE...

...AND PARTY EVERY DAAAAY!"

[But as the sing-a-long rocks the Crockett Coliseum, the Rockstar
Express finds themselves victims of a sneak attack.]

GM:  Wait a second!

[From out of nowhere, Adam and Brother Cain, the First Family come
tearing through the curtain.  Both Rockstars are immediately felled with
a running double clothesline to the back of the head by the massive
masked Brother Cain, knocking both Storm and Morgan to the wooden ramp.]

GM:  They're banned from ringside for this!  They can't be out here!

BW:  The match hasn't started yet, Gordo!  They're not banned until the
match starts!  This is brilliant!  And you know this was Adam's plan! 
You know he came up with this!  That man is a genius!

[Adam quickly hooks a double underhook on Storm, DRIVING his skull into
the wooden ramp with a DDT!]

GM:  OHHHHH!

[Brother Cain pulls Marty Morgan to his feet, grabbing him around the
throat.  With the Aces leaving the ring and tearing down the ramp, Cain
hoists Morgan high into the air...

...and DRIVES him down onto the wooden platform with a thunderous
chokeslam!]

GM:  Good grief!  The First Family has struck and struck hard, Bucky!

[With the arrival of the Aces and a handful of AWA officials, the First
Family retreats through the curtain, heading out of view.  An irritated
Danny Tyler kneels down next to Morgan as Childes does the same with
Storm.]

GM:  The Rockstar Express just got laid out - absolutely laid out - but
the First Family!

BW:  What a way to start The Main Event, Gordo!

GM:  Well, obviously, this match isn't gonna happen.  Both of the
Rockstars took severe shots there... neither of them are going to be in
any condition to compete here in this one... 

[The officials and the Aces work together to get Scotty Storm back to
his feet.  The officials start to move Storm back towards the locker
room...

...but he jerks free, shoving an official down as he falls to a knee.]

GM:  They're trying to help Storm out of here but they can't get him
out.  

[Marty Morgan is pulled up as well and he immediately shoves his way
free before slumping back against a wall.  The camera zooms in closer on
the action with an official shouting "Come on, Marty!  You guys gotta
get some help in the back" with Morgan shaking his head back and forth.]

GM:  They don't want to leave, Bucky!

BW:  What the... they can't fight, Gordo!

GM:  They seem to think differently!

[Scotty Storm stands up, grabbing the closest official.]

SS:  We're taking this match!  We ain't...

[Storm slumps down again, grabbing his neck.  Morgan stumbles to his
partner's side, helping him up.]

MM:  We ain't goin' out like that, ya hear?

[The Aces seem against the idea as well as offers of rematches and
"another time" can be heard but the Rockstars continue to hold their
ground...

...and then eventually move past that, shoving past the stunned
officials as they stagger down the aisle to the ring, stepping through
the ropes to the cheers of the crowd.]

GM:  The Rockstar Express is in the ring!  The Rockstar Express says the
match must go on!

BW:  Well, the show must go on, I guess, but this is a huge mistake in
my book, Gordo.  Storm and Morgan just took a brutal beatdown from the
First Family and they are in no condition to try to wrestle here
tonight.

GM:  But they're gonna wrestle!  They're gonna fight!  What a tremendous
show of heart from the Rockstar Express!

[The Aces reluctantly come walking back up the ramp to the ring, arguing
with the officials the whole time.  Upon reaching the ring, they huddle
up and Stevie Childes looks agitated as he steps into the ring.  He
makes one final plea to the waiting Marty Morgan, asking him to put off
the match...

...and eats a right hand to the jaw as the referee Marty Meekly calls
for the bell!]

GM:  Here we go!

[Morgan throws two more big right hands to the jaw of Childes, knocking
him back into the ropes where he grabs the man by the arm, firing him
across the ring.]

GM:  Whip by Morgan...

[Morgan rears way back for a right hand...

...but Childes drops into a baseball slide, avoiding the blow before
popping back up to his feet behind Morgan, and knocking him off his feet
with a perfectly-placed dropkick!]

GM:  Ohh!  Stevie Childes with one of those breathtaking dropkicks that
we absolutely love to see!

[Morgan hits the mat hard, scooting backwards to the ropes instantly. 
Childes looks reluctant to move in, talking to the official as Morgan
slowly pulls himself off the canvas using the ropes.  The referee steps
in, asking Morgan if he wants to give it up...

...but gets shoved aside again as Morgan rushes forward into a collar
and elbow, using his strength to swing Childes back around into the
buckles.  Morgan drops down a level, grabbing the middle rope, and slams
his shoulder into Childes' midsection.]

GM:  Marty Morgan maybe thinking he needs to ground the highflyer here.

BW:  It's a good strategy but not one you would expect from the
Rockstars who like to keep the pace high and the action quick just like
the Aces do.  This is probably due to the injuries Morgan suffered
moments ago at the hands of the First Family.  He knows he needs some
time to recover and a move like this doesn't require a lot of energy -
it might give him that time.

GM:  An excellent analysis, Bucky.

[Morgan slams his shoulder into the midsection a second time... then a
third before straightening up.  Squaring his shoulders, he pops Childes
with a knife-edge chop across the chest to the cheers of the crowd
before grabbing the wrist, flinging Childes from corner to corner and
charging in behind him...

...but that agile Childes grabs the top rope on approach, kicking his
body up off the canvas and allowing Morgan to slam sternum-first into
the buckles on his charge before he lands on his feet behind the
Rockstar.]

GM:  Whoa!  Nice counter by Childes there!

[Childes swings Morgan around out of the corner into a front facelock,
slinging Morgan's arm over his neck before snapping him over with a
bone-rattling suplex!]

GM:  Oh my!  He nearly snaps the man out of his boots, Bucky!

[Childes goes for a lateral press quickly, hooking both legs as the
referee drops down to count.]

GM:  We've got one!  We've got two!  We've got - just a two count there.

BW:  Morgan's an idiot, Gordo.  I think Childes was trying to be
merciful there.  Trying to give the Rockstars a way out of this match
without getting themselves hurt even worse.  But of course, they're too
proud to take it... and now the Aces may really have to pour it on.

[Stevie Childes looks upset as he climbs to his feet, looking down at
the crawling Marty Morgan and shaking his head.  He moves forward,
grabbing Morgan by the foot and hauling him back to the corner where he
slaps the hand of Danny Tyler.]

GM:  There's the first tag of the match for the Aces.  And even Danny
Tyler looks upset by this turn of events and we all know how badly he
wants to beat the Rockstar Express.

BW:  Brother Cain did them a favor.  He chokeslammed Morgan down on the
wooden ramp and the Aces should be sending them dinner in thanks, Gordo.

GM:  The Aces aren't like that.  They don't want to win that way, Bucky.

BW:  A win's a win when you look at your paycheck, daddy.

[Grabbing the top rope, Tyler slingshots himself over the top rope,
dropping a leg down across the back of Morgan's head.  He promptly flips
Morgan to his back, applying a press.]

GM:  ONE!!  TWO!!  TH-

[Marty Morgan fires a shoulder off the canvas to the cheers of the
crowd.]

GM:  Marty Morgan needs to get out of there, Bucky.  After that
chokeslam on the ramp, he can't take much more of this.

BW:  Yeah, but to get out of there, he has to tag in Scotty Storm who
took that brutal DDT on the wooden ramp!  He's on the apron hanging onto
the ropes to stay on his feet.  The man is seeing stars and he's the
hero for Morgan?  I don't think so.

GM:  Both men are in bad shape but they have to work together to stand a
shot in this!

[Tyler glares at the downed Morgan, stepping back to the corner where he
hops up to the midbuckle.  He stands tall for a moment and leaps off,
driving the point of his elbow down into the throat.]

GM:  Driving elbowdrop off the middle rope!  Another cover!

[The referee hits the mat once, twice, but the shoulder comes up before
three again.]

GM:  Still not enough!  And listen to these fans who appreciate the
heart of Marty Morgan!  Marty Morgan refuses to stay down for a three
count... absolutely refuses!

[Tyler looks at the official almost pleadingly, wanting him to stop the
match but the referee waves it off, ordering the match to continue.]

GM:  The Aces want no part of this.  They have no desire to hurt the
Rockstar Express here tonight.

BW:  They may not have a choice, Gordo.  The Rockstars aren't going down
without a fight!

["Delicious" Danny drags Morgan off the mat, popping him across the
chest with a chop that sends him falling back into the corner where
Tyler slaps the hand of his partner.]

GM:  Another tag by the Aces to bring Stevie Childes back into the
match... wait a second...

[Tyler pulls Morgan out of the corner, holding him in a dazed state...

...and drops down into a spinning legsweep as Childes leaps up, flipping
Morgan over and down onto the back of his head with a spinning leg
lariat!]

BW:  TOTAL INNOVATION!!

[Childes stacks up Morgan, leaning over into a jacknife cradle.]

GM:  ONE!!  TWO!!  THRE-

[HUUUUUGE CHEER!]

GM:  Shoulder up!  Morgan got the shoulder up!  Unbelievable!

[An upset Childes gets to his feet, holding up three fingers at the
official who shakes his head.]

GM:  The referee says it was only a two count.  Childes leans over,
dragging Morgan up off the mat and shoves him back into the corner,
slapping Danny Tyler's hand again.

BW:  Great teamwork by the Aces, moving in and out, keeping the fresh
man inside the ring.

[Tyler steps in, throwing a few big chops across the chest of Morgan
before pulling him into a double underhook, snapping him over into a
suplex towards the center of the ring!]

GM:  Nice butterfly suplex by "Delicious" Danny Tyler... now where is he
going?

[Tyler immediately heads to the adjacent neutral corner, stepping up to
the second rope...]

GM:  Tyler's going up!  He's heading for the top rope!

[The Jacksonville native steps to the top rope, looking out over the
cheering fans...

...and takes flight, backflipping effortlessly through the air, floating
through a sea of flashbulbs...]

BW:  MOOOOONSAULLLLLT!

[But at the last possible moment, Morgan rolls aside from the graceful
backflip, causing Tyler to SLAM chestfirst down on the canvas!  Big
mixed reaction!]

GM:  He missed!  He missed!  He came off the high dive and the POOL! 
WAS!  EMPTY!

[And with an encouraging crowd behind him, Marty Morgan begins the crawl
across the ring to his corner where a dazed Scotty Storm, still holding
the back of the head with one hand has the other stretched out looking
to make the exchange.  Across the ring, Stevie Childes is shouting at
the hurting Danny Tyler to get to his own corner to do the same.]

GM:  We've got a race on our hands!  Who can make the tag first?  Who
can bring in their fresh partner first?

BW:  I'm not sure how fresh Scotty Storm is.

GM:  I'm guessing he's fresher than Marty Morgan is!

[Morgan is belly-crawling, hand over hand, inch by inch towards his
partner while Tyler pushes up to his knees, visibly in pain as he
clutches at his torso.  He looks to the corner where Stevie Childes is
shouting encouragement and collapses forward, crawling on all fours
towards his partner.]

GM:  Both men are inching, crawing, scratching towards their respective
corners!  Both men know how much they need to make the tag!  They gotta
get out of there and get the fresh man in!  But who can do it first? 
Who can get there first?  Who can make the tag to-

[The crowd cheers as Danny Tyler slaps the hand of Stevie Childes. 
Childes slingshots over the ropes into the ring, rushing across towards
Marty Morgan...

...who just narrowly slaps the hand of his partner before Childes
reaches him!  Huge cheer!]

GM:  TAG!  BOTH MEN GOT THE TAG!!

[Grabbing the top rope, Scotty Storm slingshots over the ropes, catching
Childes with a kick to the face that knocks him backwards and down to
the mat.  A fired-up Storm is immediately on the attack, catching a
recovering Childes with a kneelift under the chin that knocks him back
into the ropes.]

GM:  Scotty Storm has got some fire in his belly right now!  But will it
be enough?

[Grabbing Childes by the arm, Storm fires him across...

...and CREAMS the rebounding Childes with a flying forearm!]

GM:  Oh yeah!  On target with the forearm!

[Storm dives across Childes!]

GM:  ONE!!  TWO!!  

[But Danny Tyler is there with a falling forearm to the back to break up
the pin.  The official steps in, forcing Tyler back as Scotty Storm gets
up, bringing Stevie Childes to his feet with him.  Storm dips down,
scooping Childes up...

...and SLAMS him down hard with a thunderous bodyslam!]

GM:  Big slam by Storm!

[Heading back to the corner, Storm hops up to the middle buckle.  To the
cheers of the female fans in the crowd, he shakes his tailfeather for a
bit before leaping off, and dropping a leg down across the chest of
Childes!]

GM:  Middle rope legdrop and a beauty!

BW:  I heard Storm calls that one the Jam Session!

GM:  Call it what you want but it was very effective!

[Storm, foregoing a cover, springs to his feet and pumps a fist to the
cheers of the crowd.  He reaches down, hauling Childes off the canvas by
his long hair, firing him chestfirst into the nearest turnbuckles!]

GM:  Ohhh!  Childes hits the corner hard!

[And as he stumbles backwards, Storm hooks him, snapping him back into a
side Russian legsweep!]

GM:  RUSSIAN LEGSWEEP!!

[Storm rolls into a cover.]

GM:  ONE!  TWO!!  THR-

[But this time, it's Stevie Childes' turn to kick out just before the
three count!]

GM:  He almost got him!  He almost had him for a three count!  And after
the beating they took at the hands of The First Family, that would have
been an upset in my book!

[Storm climbs to his feet, looking disappointed as he leans down to grab
"Sweet" Stevie...

...who grabs Storm by the head, dropping down with a split-legged
jawbreaker!]

GM:  Ohh!  He caught him!

[Childes pops back up to his feet, leaping up and lashing out with a
boot to the back of the head!]

GM:  HEAD KICK!!

[Storm crumples to the mat, hands up to his skull.]

GM:  What a shot!

BW:  And after taking a DDT on a solid wooden ramp, what do you think
that feels like?!

GM:  Storm's motionless!  He's not moving on the mat!

[Childes grabs the top rope, deadleaping to the top where he promptly
turns around, hurling him off the top, pumping his arms and legs...

...and CRASHES down across the chest of Scotty Storm!]

GM:  FROG SPLASH!!  HE NAILED IT!!

BW:  HE CALLS IT THE LAP DANCE, GORDO!

GM:  Call it what you want, I call it - the cover!

[Childes reaches back, hooking Storm by the legs.]

GM:  ONE!!  TWO!!!  THREE!!!!


"DING!  DING!  DING!"


[Childes springs to his feet, first raising his arms to celebrate the
victory...

...and then putting his hands on his hips, looking down at Scotty Storm
who is still holding the back of his head even though he just got frog
splashed right down to the basement.]

GM:  Stevie Childes just won this match for the Aces but... well, he
doesn't exactly look pleased about it.

BW:  He's a buffoon!  He just put his team in position to challenge for
the AWA National Tag Team Titles, Gordo!  Who cares if Scotty Storm's
got a boo-boo?

GM:  A boo-boo?!  He got DDTd on the wooden ramp!  And then... 

[Danny Tyler steps in to join Childes, shaking hands with his partner
and then stopping to look at Storm who has been joined by Marty Morgan. 
Morgan kneels next to his partner.  Childes steps forward, shaking his
head...

...and offers his hand to Morgan.]

GM:  How about that, Bucky?

BW:  Whatever, Gordo.  They want to kiss and make up after the match,
that's their loss.

[Morgan accepts the handshake from Childes, who then leans down to help
get Storm back to his feet and back into the corner to lean against the
buckles.]

GM:  We've got handshakes all around between these two teams and these
fans are happy to see it.  And quite frankly, so am I.  It's been a
contentious few months between these two teams and I'm pleased to see it
in end in such a good show of sportsmanship.

BW:  End?  You're dumber than you look, Gordo.

GM:  What do you mean?

BW:  You really think the Rockstars are going to be happy with this? 
They got jumped by the First Family - don't forget that - and knowing
Morgan and Storm, I bet they think they would have won this match if it
hadn't been for that.  And who knows?  They may be right.

GM:  Another good point, Bucky.  This may not be the last time we see
these two teams square off.  But nonetheless, it's a big win for The
Aces here tonight and if you believe my partner's sources, they may be
named the new #1 contenders to the National Tag Team Titles and what a
moment that would be for that duo.  Fans, we've gotta take our first
break of the night but don't you dare go away!

[We hold on the four men in the ring for a moment before fading to
black.

And then to 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 fade back up to the backstage area
where Jason Dane is standing by with Todd Michaelson who is dressed in a
green suit with a white dress shirt underneath.]

JD:  Welcome back, fans... and Todd, this is gonna be one heck of a
night.  You've got a lot to look ahead to tonight - the Money Pit with
Blackjack Lynch, your wife, my sister Lori Dane wrestling in the AWA for
the very first time, and of course, your former student Eric Preston
taking on the Moonshiners in tag team action - a match he may or may not
have a partner for.

TM:  He'll have a partner.

JD:  You sound so sure of yourself, Todd.  You know there have been a
lot of rumors about this tag team match for two weeks now - just who
will be Preston's partner.  And a lot of those rumors say it will be
you.

[Michaelson grins.]

TM:  Is that a fact?

JD:  It certainly is.  Care to respond to that?

TM:  I will, Jason... in just a second... but first, let's talk about my
wife.  Jason, you know your sister as well as I do.  You know she's
determined, she's bull-headed, she's fiery, she's stubborn, and she can
be a real pain in the neck if she doesn't get her way.  Right?

[Dane looks reluctant to answer.]

JD:  Uhhh...

TM:  It's okay.  She knows it too.

[Dane chuckles.]

TM:  The reason I bring this up is that a lot of people have been asking
me about this thing going on with her and Melissa.  They want to know
what she's doing and why I haven't stopped it.  

But Jason, you and I both know that there ain't no stopping your sister
when she's got her mind set on something, right?

[Dane nods.]

TM:  So, Lori's gonna do her thing tonight.  And being the loving
husband and brother that we both are, we're going to look the other way
and let it happen, right?

[Dane nods again.]

TM:  Exactly.  Now, as far as Eric Preston is concerned... I made a
promise to myself several weeks ago and I intend to keep it.  I said
that he needed to learn things the hard way.  He needed to become his
own man... and honestly, he still does.  He got himself into this... he
can get himself out.

[Jason Dane looks puzzled.]

JD:  So, you're saying you WON'T help Eric Preston here tonight?

[Michaelson smirks.]

TM:  Did I say that?

[And with that, Michaelson walks out of view, leaving Jason Dane behind
to shake his head in confusion.]

JD:  I have no idea what's going on with that situation but we'll all
find out later tonight!  Gordon, Bucky - back to you...

[We crossfade back inside the arena where Gordon and Bucky are standing
by at their announce position.]

GM:  Thanks, Jason.  We are just getting started here tonight at The
Main Event and we've already seen some fantastic action.  This night is
gonna be something else, Bucky.

BW:  You're thinking about The Call Of The Wilde, aren'tcha?

GM:  Not exactly.  I was thinking about our trio of titles matches...
plus that big steel cage showdown... and everything else that we'll be
bringing to our fans around the world tonight, Bucky.

BW:  And The Call of The Wilde?

GM:  Sure.  Fine.  If you say so.

BW:  I knew it!

GM:  You know what I'm looking forward to, Bucky?  I'm looking forward
to the opportunity for the entire AWA to pay tribute to the legendary
Blackjack Lynch right here tonight!

BW:  That ol' fossil?  Why not have a Brontosaurus Night while we're at
it?  Lynch could even talk about what they were like.

GM:  You'd better hope ol' Blackjack doesn't hear you saying that.  I'm
sure his Iron Claw would even fit your massively swollen skull.

BW:  The only thing massively swollen about me is my trophy case from
all my Announcer of the Year trophies, Gordo.

GM:  Fans, earlier this week, the AWA made headlines once more by
announcing the finalization of a deal to purchase the Texas-based
Premier Championship Wrestling.  Now, as someone who has spent many
decades in this industry, I can tell you that until about three years
ago, when you mentioned wrestling in Texas, you could ONLY mean PCW.  It
is a great honor for the AWA to even be mentioned in the same breath as
PCW and an even greater honor for that legendary promotion to now be
part of AWA history as well!  And now, to make that deal official, let's
go up to The Money Pit!

[Suddenly, the O'Jays' "For the Love of Money" blasts through the
Crockett Coliseum and all heads turn to the section of the interview
area that is now set up for The Money Pit. A deep voice cuts over the
top of the classic track...]

"Ladies and gentlemen...

TODD MICHAELSON!"

[The camera cuts to a "set" made of wooden walls that are painted and
dressed to be a mockup of a bank vault. There are also various stacks of
(presumably) fake money and bags of money all over the ground. Sitting
in the middle of it on a wooden stool, Todd Michaelson is dressed to the
nines, a smile plastered across his face.]

TM: Welcome to The Money Pit!

[Big pop from the Dallas faithful.]

TM: There are times when you feel yourself on the edge of something
huge. Times when it feels like the world is changing. Times when you
want to write down where you were and what you were doing when you heard
the news. This is one of those times. But I don't want you to take my
word for it.

Ladies and gentleman, the chairman of the AWA Championship Committee...

"BIG" JIM WATKINS!

[As the crowd roars in welcoming the chairman, Watkins walks briskly to
the interview platform. Jim Watkins looks excited, like he can't wait to
get the words out of his mouth. He quickly shakes hands with Michaelson,
taking the offered mic.]

JW: Thank you for that, Todd.

As all you fans know, the AWA is _the_ major league of professional
wrestling. No other wrestling organization has the talent we have. No
other wrestling league in the entire world can offer what we do. But
I've always thought there was something missing. In the _world_ of
professional wrestling, the AWA is unparalleled. But when we talk about
_Texas_ wrestling?

Well, there's always been a missing ingredient... that is until tonight.

[There's a building buzz in the crowd. Many of the fans know what
they're on the cusp of hearing announced. But even those not directly in
the know seem to sense that something they've been waiting for is about
to happen.]

JW: Before there was the AWA, there was Premier Championship Wrestling,
coming to fans in the Dallas-Fort Worth area every Sunday afternoon. And
before there was Juan Vasquez and Alex Martinez, there was this man. A
man who defeated Hamilton Graham on Thanksgiving night in a Texas Death
Match in front of thirty two thousand fans in Texas Stadium. There was
this man...

BLACKJACK LYNCH!

[A thunderous pop rolls through the Crockett Coliseum at the mention of
the legendary veteran. As people get on their feet, and older man, in
his mid to late fifties steps out. Though his prime years have long
passed, he still stands tall, his head covered in thinning grey hair.
Wearing a dark blue suit, the Texas legend moves to the center of the
entrance platform and pauses to bask in the adulation of the fans.]

GM:  There he is, Bucky.  When you say the word "legend" and when you
say the word "Texas" - you are talking about this man, Blackjack Lynch,
one of the all-time greats in the history of our great sport!

[With a grin that looks like a sneer, Blackjack Lynch lifts his right
arm in the air, gripping his wrist with his left hand, and his fingers
curl until they form the dreaded Iron Claw! The fan response becomes
even more enthusiastic as Lynch marches slowly over to the interview
platform that is The Money Pit.  He steps onto the set where Watkins
offers a hand.  Lynch eyes the hand for a bit and for a moment, it looks
like he might even slap the claw on Watkins, or perhaps Michaelson.  But
at last, Blackjack accepts a handshake from both men before taking the
offered microphone from Watkins and begins to speak, or at least, he
tries to. The outpouring of love from the fans overwhelms the veteran,
and he takes a deep breath, pausing to get a handle on his emotions
before finally being able to get the words out.]

BJL: You fans, you have no idea how much your cheers mean to me. For
many years, I had the honor and privilege of fighting, sweating, and
bleeding for you. Hearing your cheers tonight is validation. It means
I've earned your respect. And that means more to me than just about
anything else.

I did my very best to make Premier Championship Wrestling the
destination place for wrestling's elite. I've always kept my eye on the
future, and for the last few months, I've come to realize something. The
future of wrestling isn't Premier Championship Wrestling. 

[Pause.]

BJL:  The future of wrestling is the AWA.

[HUGE CHEER!  Lynch looks a little sad to admit that but nods his head
in response to the crowd anyways.]

BJL:  For those of you who don't know, just about a week ago, I made a
deal with the powers that be in the AWA. The final contracts were signed
this morning, which means that right now, Premier Championship Wrestling
and all of its assets are owned by the AWA.

[Another enthusiastic cheer from the crowd.]

BJL: Among those assets are contracts. Very soon, you fans will be
seeing some of your favorite PCW wrestlers competing right here in the
AWA. Heck, if we can drag them out of the bars, or the drunk tank, 'cuz
you never know with those three, you might even see them dirty rats
Stars and Bars.

[The PCW faithful in the audience boo at the mention of the hated trio.]

BJL: Over the course of the coming weeks and months, you'll see an
influx of Premier Championship Wrestling talent into the ranks of the
AWA. But tonight, I want to introduce you to three of the young men I'm
convinced will carry, not just the AWA, but all of professional
wrestling into the future.

I should know, because these aren't just any old wrestlers. These are
men near and dear to me.

I think y'all know who I'm talking about.

[Anticipation builds again, as the fans wait for Blackjack's
announcement.]

BJL: If there's one thing I know for sure, its this - you just can't
have Texas Wrestling without the Lynch family. And although old
Blackjack won't be lacing up the boots and slapping the claw on people,
I've got three boys willing to do just that.

If you watched Premier Championship Wrestling, then you watched my boys
grow up before your eyes. You followed them as they won trophies in high
school and set records in college. You even saw them take on those dirty
rats in Stars and Bars. But if you didn't, then I want to introduce you
to them all, right now.

First, is my youngest son, Travis. When it comes to pure athletics,
Travis is, I'd venture to say, the greatest pure athlete in all of
wrestling. Like all my boys, he played football, but at Rice University,
and he also competed in track and field. And folks, I'm proud to say
that his record for the discus throw is never going to be beat! Travis,
why don't you come out and say hello to these fine fans?

['Tom Sawyer' by Rush hits the speakers. And the moment Travis Lynch
steps out, the high pitched screams become deafening. The unnaturally
handsome Travis, looking like a twenty first century Adonis, steps out,
wearing a tight white, short sleeve polo shirt, that show off his
biceps, a pair of blue jeans and a pair of cowboy boots made from
vintage cognac smooth ostrich leather with turquoise crunch goatskin
highlights.  Travis walks over to the interview platform, standing
behind and to the right of his father.]

BJL: Next is my middle boy. Now, if Travis is the best all around
athlete, then let me tell you, that the world has never seen someone who
can fly as high as my boy. His records in the long jump and the high
jump are just preludes to what he's going to do when he gets to the top
turnbuckle. Here he is... James Lynch!

['Stranglehold' by Ted Nugent hits the speakers, and out steps James
Lynch, wearing an orange Texas Longhorns hat, a white t-shirt and a pair
of jeans. The girls aren't screaming as loudly for James, but they're
still screaming.  James waves a hand to salute the cheering fans as he
walks to the Money Pit set to stand at his father's left side.]

BJL: And finally, my oldest son. He's had experience wrestling in Japan
and down in Florida. And he is the _only_ wrestler who can do the claw
as well as old Blackjack. Here is... Jack Lynch.

[The Black Keys' 'Hard Row' hits the speakers, and a tall man, dressed
all in black emerges from the back. Jack doesn't garner the enthusiasm
from the ladies that his brothers do, but though the cheers might be
more muted, there's a respectful tone to them. There are plenty of fans
in Crockett Coliseum who know what Jack Lynch can do. 

Tall and lanky, Jack has the look and aura of a western gunslinger about
him. That aura is helped by the black dress shirt he wears buttoned up
over his chest, and his black pants. On his head rests a black cowboy
hat. Indeed, the only real color on Jack Lynch are the polished, silver
toes of his cowboy boots. Jack makes his way to the ring slowly,
removing his hat before stepping into the ring. He holds it in his left
hand, and offers a short nod to all those already in the ring before
raising his right hand, fingers bent in the same claw sign that his
father gave earlier. And at the sight of the claw, the fans roar their
approval.]

JW: Let me just say, Blackjack, that your boys look hungry and ready for
action! I can't wait to see them hook 'em up here in the AWA.

[Beaming, proud as any father can be, Blackjack nods, and then turns
towards his eldest son.]

BJL: Son, as the oldest, I expect you to be the leader of this family.
That hat you're holding? It's the same hat I wore into Texas Stadium on
the night I defeated Hamilton Graham. You wear it with pride, son, and
you honor what it means.

[Blackjack hands the microphone to Jack.]

JL: '.

[The first words out of Jack's mouth are cut off, when a female fan
screams 'I LOVE YOU TRAVIS!' right over whatever Jack was about to say.
Jack just shoots a look at Travis and shakes his head.]

JL: He loves you too, I'm sure.

Now listen. I'm not that old, but I've been to a few places in my life.
I've been down some roads, if you know what I mean. When I think about
the places I've been, one thing stands out to me. Every locker room I've
ever been in, there's two types of people - people who've been in the
AWA and wanna get back, and people dying to get in. That tells me that
this is the place to be.

Which is why I'm here.

There's no wrestling in Texas that doesn't involve my family. The Lynchs
are Texas wrestling, no two ways about it. I'm not normally one to brag,
but I want to explain to you what you're going to see when you see the
Lynch boys in action.

You see my brother Travis? Well, ladies, if you can peel your eyes off
that handsome face of his, and fellas, if you can keep your ladies from
thinking disloyal thoughts, what you're going to see is a man running
circles around his opponent. Trav never gets tired, he's like a
thoroughbred horse. If you were to build a perfect athlete? Well, Travis
Lynch is who you would build.

And when you see James in the ring? There'll be a lotta sore necks the
next day, because all you're going to be doing is looking up and then
looking down. Ain't a bird alive flies better than my brother Jimmy. And
heck? Who else you know crazy enough to wander around barefoot inside a
wrestling ring?

[Jack shoots a grin at his brother and then puts his hat back on.]

JL: Then there's me. Well, I don't have Trav's sizzle. And I can't jump
around like Jimmy. All I can do is kick a man's teeth down his throat.
Or put these fingers around his head and crush his skull like an egg?
But when it comes right down to it? That gets the job done just fine.

Now, I think these fine folks have heard enough from me. Trav? Why don't
you tell them a little something?

TL: Hello Tex-

[Before Travis can finish his sentence the females in attendance begin
to scream loudly drowning his words out. Travis smiles as he looks at
both his brothers and father and just shrugs his shoulders as they shake
their heads.]

TL: Thank you ' thank you. The love you have for our family ' it means
the world to us it really does. If it wasn't for each and everyone of
you I'm not sure we would even be in this business '

[Blackjack Lynch glares at Travis for a brief moment.]

TL: Well you all and of course good ol' dad here.

[The crowd pops once again as Travis pats his father on the back and
smiles ear to ear as he does so.]

TL: The business coursed through his blood and it courses through our
blood with each beat of our Texan hearts; and you see that each and
every time we step into the squared circle. Whether it be James flying
around the ring, or Jack methodically taking a poor soul apart piece by
piece ' we give it all and put it all on the line.

[Travis smiles as the ladies start to cheer for him once again as he
passes the microphone to his brother James. James Lynch pats his brother
Travis on the back as he holds the microphone. A smile forms across the
middle Lynch brothers face as he waits for the ladies to stop cheering
and whistling. And he waits ']

JL: My brothers and I we were raised with wrestling running through our
veins. There isn't a day that went by in our childhood when Jack over
there wasn't placing me in a headlock or a figure four. We were raised
by one of the toughest men in all of Texas and it's an honor to finally
bring the Lynch name to the AWA.

[Lynch Brothers to the AWA mention POP.]

JL: We were raised with strong family values and loyalty. You will see
three brothers that at times ruffle one another's feathers, but when it
comes down to it ' there won't be a night that goes by when we won't be
cheering and watching each others backs.

This isn't our first rodeo '

Heck Jack has bailed me out of more rough situations then I like to
remember. And Travis has gotten me in _twice_ as many.

[A small bit of laughter from the Lynch brothers as they reflect a
moment.]

JL: We are good ' we are Texas tough ' and we bring a lot of hunger with
us to the AWA. We have already faced some of the best the wrestling
world has to offer. And we heard the AWA is where the rest like to
gather.

[The Lynch family begins to make their exit, as the fans cheer, but Todd
raises his hand.]

TM: Not so fast, boys. I understand there's one final announcement to
make. Jim?

[The mic is passed to Watkins.]

JW: Boys, on behalf of the Championship Committee, I'd like to welcome
you all to the AWA the best way I know how.

I'm offering all three of you a spot in tonight's Battle Royal!

[A deafening pop erupts from the fans. It's Jack who takes the
microphone.]

JL: Mr. Watkins... that's the best offer we've had all day. We accept!

[Another cheer from the crowd, as all four of the Lynchs shake Watkins'
hand. The Lynch family pauses to soak up one final cheer from the crowd,
before everyone begins to disperse as we cut back to Bucky and Gordon.]

GM: What an announcement! The legendary Lynch family continues their
legacy of being Texas wrestling royalty here in the AWA!

BW: Ugh, those milk drinking Lynch boys make me want to puke! You
telling me we're going to have to call their matches?

GM: And you're going to be starting tonight! What a huge coup for the
AWA! In the weeks to come, we can all look forward to learning more
about this wonderful family that some have dubbed Texas wrestling
royalty as well as all the other big stars from PCW that will be making
their way into the AWA.  Now, fans, let's take a look at some special
footage we ran two weeks ago with the two participants in our next
history making matchup!

[We crossfade to a black screen with white lettering.]

"Expectations."

[The voice of Lori Dane is heard over footage of Melissa Cannon
announcing.]

LD:  This isn't what I wanted for her.  This isn't what I expected for
her.  It's difficult to make it in this business as a wrestler if you're
a woman, I know this.  I am a former Women's World Champion and I STILL
can't get respect inside the ring.  For years, I went to every promoter
I came across and begged for an opportunity to showcase what I could do
inside the ring for a major league promotion and for years, I got turned
down.

[Footage of Cannon in glamour photo shoots for AWA promotional
materials.]

LD:  That's exactly what I told her the first day she came to that
disgusting garage Todd used to train in in Los Angeles.  She begged him
for the chance.  He turned her down cold.  My husband's views on women's
wrestling are well-known.  It's one of the many things we disagree on.  

So, _I_ took her in... but I told her it would be a long, hard road. 
That the men in this business would ask her to do things she didn't want
to do... and I don't just mean announcing or managing or posing for
swimsuit calendars or that kind of crap.  But she wanted it...

...at least, she said she did.

[The voice of Dane's fades to be replaced by Melissa Cannon's.  The
black screen returns with the white lettering.]

"Hypocrisy."

[This time, we see old EMWC footage of Lori Dane at ringside calling
matches as Melissa Cannon's voice is heard.]

MC:  I know what she expected of me... I know what she wanted for me. 
And I appreciate everything that Lori's ever done for me.  But sometimes
in life, your goals change... your reality changes... and expectations
need to change with that.  I love what I do... I'm happy doing what I
do.  Being a ring announcer has allowed me to see the world as part of
this crazy business and I've gotten to make a career in the business
that I've loved since I was a little girl.  

[The footage shifts to earlier in Dane's career, her actually
wrestling.]

MC:  Who the heck does she think she is?  She had her shot at wrestling.
 She tries to tell everyone she's been trying for years to get back into
wrestling - what a load of... there's a bunch of women's promotions out
there!  In Canada, they've been promoting women's wrestling for years as
a major attraction.  So, for her to show up, constantly interrupt me and
harass me, and try to make me feel bad for not being a wrestler?  That's
just hypocrisy to me.

So what if I'm not wrestling?  Do I regret that?  Maybe a little but I
love my job.  I love being out there every week in front of these fans. 
I love being a part of the AWA just like I loved being part of PWR and
the EMWC too.  She can't take that away from me... and heck, she
shouldn't WANT to!

[The black screen appears once more with the white lettering.]

"History."

[A black and white closeup of Lori Dane.]

LD:  Of course it's important to me.  To be a part of the first women's
match in AWA history?  It's a big deal.  Hell, with the way women's
wrestling is treated in most places, it may be the first, last, and ONLY
women's match in AWA history for all I know.  That's a lot of
pressure... but it's also a great opportunity to show exactly what the
women in this business who WANT to wrestle can do.

[The shot changes to the same angle, same black and white - only this
time, it's Melissa Cannon.]

MC:  She's right in some ways.  I DID get into this business wanting to
be a wrestler.  I DID train in that dirty, stinky Dojo for two years
before I got my first match.  I had visions of being a champion, having
my hand raised as a big ol' gold belt was wrapped around my waist.  I
won't lie.  That was my dream... maybe still is sometimes.  So yeah,
this is a big deal to me too.  Just because you give up on something
doesn't mean it isn't still a dream, you know?

[The black and white shot fades to Lori Dane standing in the middle of a
wrestling ring.  She is surrounded by a handful of women in ring gear. 
She barks a command as one of them charges at her, wildly flailing with
a right hand.  Dane deftly ducks down, backdropping her to the mat. 
Dane's voice goes over this action.]

LD:  She doesn't know what she's getting herself into.  I know, I goaded
her into this... but honestly, I wasn't sure she'd ever go for it.  I
mean, I'm a former Women's Champion.  I've had more matches in the ring
than she's even seen sitting at ringside all these years.  She's still a
rookie in a lot of ways.

[A second woman charges Dane, running right into a boot to the
midsection.  Dane pummels her down with a double axehandle across the
back of the neck before charging forward and throwing a Yakuza Kick to
the face of a woman standing in the corner.  The final woman charges her
exposed back, leaping up onto her with a sleeperhold.  Dane struggles
for a moment before twisting her body and whipping her over to the
canvas before leaping up and driving her knee down into the forehead. 
Her voiceover continues over the action.]

LD:  Melissa's a good girl.  She's a nice girl.  She doesn't know what
it's like to get into the trenches and have to rake, claw, bite, and
battle your way out.  I come from the land of Extreme... we played for
keeps there.  This isn't going to be some pretty catch-as-catch-can
classic.  I wanted her in this ring... now I'm going to make her
understand what it takes to stay there.  I want to push her, drive her,
make her dig deep.  I want her to have to dig so deep into her heart and
soul to beat me, that she'll never want to lose that match because it
would break her heart.

[We fade from Lori's training footage to Melissa's.  She's alone inside
a ring, having orders shouted at her from outside the ring by someone we
can't see.  She hits the ropes hard, time after time, sprinting across
the ring until her chest is heaving and sweat is pouring from her body.]

MC:  Yeah, I'm a little bit behind in the game when it comes to this
one.  I haven't wrestled in a long, long while... and I really don't
have that many matches under my belt to begin with.  Certainly not as
many as she does.  So, when she says I'm still a rookie, she's right. 
But what I do have is something she doesn't - desperation.  She's been a
World Champion - she'll tell you that.  I never have.  And there's a
damn good chance I never will.  So, for me, this may be the biggest
match of my life... and I'm not going down without a fight.

[Cannon slams down to the canvas from a backdrop from her training
partner who barks "AGAIN!" as she pops back to her feet, hitting the
ropes again, and gets sailed through the air and down to the mat with
another backdrop.  The drill repeats with Cannon getting up over and
over to take backdrop after backdrop.]

MC:  She thinks I'm a good girl?  She really doesn't know me at all then
'cause this one got personal for me around the time she had that son of
a [BLEEP!] spit that mist in my eyes.  You think I liked sitting around
the house for months because of her?  You think I liked wondering if I'd
be able to see my new baby nephew?  You think I liked missing the
biggest payday of the year - SuperClash - while she sat back and
laughed?  You'd be wrong.  She'd be wrong.  But nowhere near as wrong as
she when she thinks I'm looking for a mat classic.  She wants a fight? 
She's gonna get one in two weeks.

[The screen splits, showing the two women in their workouts.]

LD/MC:  At The Main Event, history will be made.  And _I'm_ gonna be the
last woman standing.

[The shot freezes, showing both women with a determined look on her
face...

...and we fade back up to the ring where Phil Watson is standing.]

PW:  The following contest is scheduled for one fall with a fifteen
minute time limit and is the FIRST EVER Women's match in AWA history!

[Big cheer!]

PW:  Introducing first...

["The Lonely Shepherd" by Zamfir starts off very quietly, the sounds of
the panflute giving off a beautiful, almost haunting sound as smoke
trails out from behind the entrance curtain.

As the rest of the song kicks in, Lori Dane emerges from the curtain,
standing amidst the smoke in a set of skin-tight yellow vinyl pants and
top that appears to be made of the same material.  The front of the top
is slit dramatically to reveal the lovely Ms. Dane's assets.  Her dark
brown hair is pulled back in a ponytail and she appears to be all
business.]

PW:  From Los Angeles, California... weighing in tonight at 150
pounds... she is a former Women's World Champion...

LOOOOOOOORIIIIIII DAAAAAAAAANE!

[A burst of jeers erupt from the crowd.  Dane pays them no attention as
she strides down the elevated wooden ramp towards the ring, ignoring the
booing crowd as she steps through the ropes into the ring.  She takes
one look around the building before turning to face the aisle, leaning
over with her hands on her knees.]

PW:  And her opponent...

[The beautiful sounds of Zamfir's winds and strings drastically change
to the wailing guitar of AC/DC's "Big Gun."]

PW:  From Dallas, Texas...

[Big cheer!]

PW:  Weighing in at 145 pounds...

MELISSAAAAA CANNNNNONNNNNNNNNN!

[Cannon SPRINTS through the curtain, tearing down the wooden ramp in a
charge...

...and runs headlong into Lori Dane who steps out to the ramp to meet
her!]

GM:  HERE WE GO!!  HERE WE GO!!

[The roar of the crowd covers up the sound of Mickey Meekly calling for
the bell.  Dane throws fists, clenched fingers aimed at the temple of
her former student.  Cannon uses forearms, smashing her well-toned arms
into her former mentor's skull again and again...]

GM:  We've got a fight on the ramp!  Melissa Cannon said it was gonna be
a fight and she apparently meant it, Bucky!

BW:  The first women's match in AWA history is underway and these two
are tearing right into each other!

[Ever the veteran, Dane buries a knee into the midsection of the
attacking Cannon, doubling her up.  She grabs her opponent's long brown
hair and uses it to HURL her through the ropes back into the ring.]

GM:  Lori Dane puts her back in and now she's coming in after her.

BW:  At some point in this match, I expect Dane to take this to the
floor, Gordo.  In all her years calling matches in Los Angeles, she MUST
have learned something about brawling and extreme and all that jazz.  

GM:  We've heard her say that before.  Real women do it extreme.  She's
worn that shirt on occasion.  Before this night is over, could Lori Dane
take this match to the extreme?

[Cannon quickly scampers back up to her feet, throwing a lunging forearm
to the jaw of her teacher as she approaches, stunning the former
champion.]

GM:  We expect Melissa Cannon to keep her offense simple.  It's been a
couple years at least since she's been in the ring so you can't expect
her to have a wide variety of attacks in her arsenal but I do expect her
to bring the fire.  She's been tormented by Lori Dane for months and
tonight, it's her chance to let all that frustration out.

[Grabbing Dane by the hair, Cannon drags her to the corner and SLAMS her
facefirst into the top turnbuckle!]

GM:  Ohh!  She hits the buckles hard!

[Cannon spins Dane around, shoving her back against the corner...

...and PASTES her with another forearm shot to the jaw, knocking Dane
down to a knee.]

GM:  Another hard shot!  Melissa Cannon is not holding back on her
former friend and mentor!

BW:  She can't afford to because you know darn well that Lori won't.

[With Dane down to a knee, Cannon grabs her by the hair and SMASHES her
knee into Dane's face, knocking her flat on her back on the canvas in
the corner.]

GM:  Good grief!  Melissa Cannon is bringing the pain here on The Main
Event!

[The referee steps in, forcing Cannon to back off as Dane grabs the
ropes, hauling herself off the mat...

...where Melissa charges in, smashing Dane with a running clothesline in
the corner!]

GM:  Big running clothesline connects!

[Grabbing Dane by the arm, Cannon fires her across the ring again.]

GM:  Another whip - here comes Cannon!

[The former student runs at top speed...

...right into the raised feet of Lori Dane!]

GM:  OHHHH!  FACEFIRST INTO THE FEET!!

[Seizing her moment, Dane ducks down, grabbing the dazed Cannon around
the waist...

...and upends her over the ropes to the floor!]

GM:  OHHH!  SHE GOT BACKDROPPED TO THE FLOOR!!

BW:  It wasn't exactly a backdrop... almost a Northern Lights suplex
over the ropes to the floor!  Whatever you want to call it, Melissa
Cannon SLAMMED backfirst on this thinly-padded floor here in the
Crockett Coliseum and this one might be over right now!

[Dane drops down to the mat, rolling out to the floor.]

GM:  And here we go, Bucky.  You called that she might take it to the
floor and that's exactly what Lori Dane is doing right now... ohhh! 
Hard kick to the ribs by Dane!  And another one!

[Cannon rolls to her stomach, trying to avoid the offensive assault of
her former mentor who sits down on Cannon's back, grabbing her long
brown hair and yanking back on it.]

GM:  Oh, come on!  There's no call for this!

[The crowd jeers Dane as she continues to pull on the hair, stretching
Cannon back in a camel clutch-type position, causing Cannon to cry out
in pain.  After a bit, Dane violently shoves Cannon's face forward,
causing it to smash off the thinly-padded floor.]

GM:  Lori Dane is taking it to her former student outside the ring.  The
referee's telling her to get the action back in there...

[Dane drags Cannon off the floor by the hair, grabbing her opponent by
the arm...]


"CLAAAAAAAAAAAAAANG!"
"OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"


GM:  SPINEFIRST TO THE STEEL!  INTO THE BARRICADE GOES MELISSA CANNON!! 
And Bucky, I've gotta ask you - when you first met Melissa Cannon, that
lovely young lady, did you EVER think we would see her in a position
like this?

BW:  I really didn't.  I knew she had trained to be a wrestler - we all
knew that - but those days seemed behind her.  She seemed happy in her
role with the company and had no interest in trying to wrestle anymore.

GM:  You're exactly right but Lori Dane had no interest in letting that
happen!  Lori Dane, maybe trying to live through Melissa Cannon, kept
trying and trying to get her to compete... eventually trying to
physically provoke her... and that's what brings us here tonight to the
first women's match in AWA history!]

[With Cannon's arms slung over the barricade, Dane approaches and buries
a boot into her midsection.  Using the hair, she drags Cannon off the
railing, rolling her back under the ropes into the ring before rolling
back in herself.]

GM:  Both women are back inside the ring now... and look at Dane...
Dane's measuring her...

[Dane leans back against the ropes, waiting and watching, and as Cannon
edges to her feet...

...Dane rushes forward and CREAMS her with a big boot to the face!]

GM:  Ohh!  She drilled Melissa!

[Cannon collapses to the canvas in a heap where Dane dives across her.]

GM:  Our first cover for the match gets one... gets two... but that's
all.

[Taking the mount, Dane pummels Cannon with right hands to the skull
much to the dismay of the official who orders her to back off.  Dane
gets back to her feet, glaring at the referee as she walks back to the
corner, waving for Cannon to get up...]

GM:  She's taunting Melissa Cannon, begging her to get back to her
feet...

[Cannon rolls to her stomach, pushing up to a knee...

...which allows Dane to surge forward, stepping up onto the knee, and
springing off to smash her own knee into Cannon's face!]

GM:  OHHHHH!

BW:  SHINING WIZARD!

[Dane dives across Cannon again as the referee dives to the mat to
count.]

GM:  ONE!!  TWO!!  

[But the shoulder pops up at two once more, the crowd cheering in
response.]

GM:  These fans are solidly behind Melissa Cannon as she tries to avoid
defeat at the hands of her former mentor.  Lori Dane is trying to put
Cannon down, trying to put her down for a three count but she has been
unable to do so at this point in the match.

[An irate Dane pushes up to her knees, slamming an open hand into the
mat as she glares at the official.]

GM:  Lori Dane is a bit hot under the collar here as we approach the
five minute mark in this matchup.  You know Dane thought this was going
to be an easy match and that Cannon would be done for by now but Melissa
Cannon continues to fight back.  She's not going down without one heck
of a fight.

[Dane climbs to her feet, reaching down to grab Cannon...

...who throws a big haymaker to the midsection!]

GM:  Ohh!  Right hand to the gut!  Dane gets stopped short!

[Popping up to her feet, Cannon grabs Dane by the head and smashes her
forearm into the jaw!]

GM:  What a shot that was!  You could hear that out on Hardin Drive!

BW:  Feel it too!

[Still holding the side of the head, Cannon throws forearm after forearm
after forearm to the jaw.  She pulls Dane's head down and snaps off a
hard Muay Thai style knee to the skull before throwing her down to her
knees.]

GM:  Cannon's fighting back!

[Rushing to the ropes, Cannon bounces off...

...and leaves her feet, DRIVING both feet squarely into the face of Lori
Dane!]

GM:  LOW BRIDGE DROPKICK ON TARGET!!

[Dane snaps backwards to the mat, flat on her back as Cannon dives atop
her.]

GM:  COVER!  ONE!!  TWO!!

[But Dane fires the shoulder off the mat, breaking the count at two.]

GM:  A near fall there for Melissa Cannon.  And now it's Cannon who is
trying to establish control of this match, hauling Dane off the mat by
the hair...

[Pulling Dane into a front facelock, Cannon slings her arm over her neck
before snapping her mentor over in a suplex!]

GM:  Ohh!  Nice suplex by Melissa Cannon!  And I've gotta admit, she's
not showing anywhere near as much ring rust as I might have expected her
to, Bucky.

BW:  She came to the building tonight ready for a fight and that's
exactly what she's getting!  That's what they're both getting!  Melissa
Cannon and Lori Dane are making history tonight and they're throwing
down hard to do it, daddy!

[With Dane reeling from the suplex, Cannon hauls her up again, holding
the back of the head to deliver a trio of Muay Thai knees to the body,
shoving Dane back against the ropes.]

GM:  And you have to think Lori Dane is a little surprised at this point
at how hard Melissa Cannon is fighting.  

BW:  The Muay Thai knees?  Where did those come from?

GM:  She trained in the M-DOJO under Todd Michaelson - I'll give you one
guess!

[Grabbing Dane by the arm, Cannon fires her across the ring...]

GM:  Here comes Melissa!

[But at the last moment, Dane sidesteps and allows Cannon to smash
chestfirst into the corner!]

GM:  OHHH!  INTO THE BUCKLES!!

[Dane grabs Cannon by the hair, swinging her around into a standing
headscissors, reaching down to underhook both arms...]

GM:  Whoa!  Whoa!  Dane's calling for the Billion Dollar Bomb!

[Feeling the move in place, Cannon rushes forward, smashing Dane's back
into the buckles.]

GM:  Big counter by Melissa Cannon!  She avoided the Billion Dollar
Bomb!

[With Dane stunned in the corner, Cannon hoists her up, sitting her down
on the top turnbuckle.]

GM:  Cannon put her down up top!  And now she's climbing up!

[Cannon steps up to the second rope, pausing to slam home a few forearms
into the jaw of Dane before hooking a front facelock, slinging Dane's
arm over her neck.]

GM:  Dane's got Cannon hooked up top - she's going for a superplex off
the top!

[Cannon struggles, trying to hoist her former teacher off her perch but
Dane clings to the top rope with her free hand, avoiding the lift. 
Reaching up with the same free hand, she rakes her fingers across the
eyes of Melissa Cannon!]

GM:  Ohh!  Dane goes to the eyes!  A cheap shot!

BW:  It's survival, Gordo!  She's up top set for a superplex - who can
blame her for doing whatever it takes to get out of that situation?

[With a hard shove, Dane sends Cannon falling off the buckles, slamming
down on her back on the canvas.]

GM:  Ohh!  Down goes Cannon... and take a look here...

[Dane stands up, stepping up top.  She pauses there a moment, soaking up
the anticipation from the crowd...

...and leaps into the air, tucking her arms and legs, and CRASHES down
spinefirst across the chest of Cannon!]

GM:  DANE DROP!  

BW:  A sky high senton splash off the top!

[Dane rolls off Cannon on impact, reaching back to clutch her lower
back.]

GM:  She hit the big backsplash off the top but I don't think she can
take advantage of it.  She rolled right off Cannon after she hit it and
now she's laid out, hanging onto her back in pain...

BW:  That's a big move for someone... well, to be blunt... of her age. 
She hasn't been an in-ring competitor on a regular basis in what...
fifteen years, Gordo?  

GM:  Something like that.

BW:  A move like that isn't meant for a body of that age in my opinion,
Gordo.

GM:  You may be right.  She's not stirring from that move.

[With both Dane and Cannon down on the mat, the referee steps up to
count both women down on the mat.]

GM:  Could we see a double countout here?  The official has started that
count.  Neither of these women are moving at this point in the match.

BW:  I don't know if either of them can even get up.  Cannon got hit
with all that weight down squarely on her chest.  It's like having a big
ol' plate weight shoved off a roof onto you!  And Lori Dane... well, her
body just may not be able to absorb a drop like that anymore!

GM:  The referee's count is up to three... still no signs of movement
from either woman.  Lori Dane is in a tremendous amount of pain, Bucky. 
You can see that written all over her face.

[The crowd is cheering loudly, trying to inspire Cannon to get off the
canvas and continue the match as the count hits five.]

GM:  Listen to these fans!  They want to see the first women's match in
AWA history continue!  They want to see Cannon get up and keep the fight
going!  They want to see both of these women get up and keep throwing
down!

[As the count comes to seven, Melissa Cannon rolls to her chest,
slipping her arms underneath her to try and push up off the mat.  A few
feet away, Lori Dane manages to sit up, breaking the count as she shakes
her head, trying to clear the cobwebs...]

GM:  Cannon's up!  Cannon's up at eight to break the count!

BW:  No way!  Lori broke it right before that!

[Cannon staggers forward, reaching down to grab the seated Dane by the
hair, hauling her up to her feet...

...and blasting her with a forearm to the jaw!  A second one knocks Dane
to a knee where Cannon promptly pulls her back up, throwing one more to
the jaw.  She grabs Dane by the arm, going for a whip...]

GM:  Irish whi-

[But Cannon stops it short, pulling Dane right back into a side
waistlock where she powers Dane off the mat into the air, and DUMPS her
down on the back of her head!]

GM:  SUPLEX!!

[A fired-up Cannon rolls over, throwing an arm across Dane's chest.]

GM:  ONE!!  TWO!!  THR-


"OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"


GM:  SHOULDER UP!!  MY STARS, SHE GOT THE SHOULDER UP!!

BW:  I can't believe it!

GM:  We're nearly ten minutes into this match and what a war it's been! 
Both of these women are putting it all on the line and putting so much
into this.  They both want to win this so badly... they both want to be
the first woman in the AWA history books with a win under their name! 
But only one can do it!  Only one can make it happen!

[Rolling into a straddling mount, Cannon grabs Dane by the hair, winding
up and popping her with a forearm to the left temple!]

GM:  Hard shot there!  Melissa Cannon is breathing heavily in that
mount.  This battle is taking a lot out of her.  

BW:  It's taking a lot out of both of them, Gordo.

GM:  Certainly is.

[A second forearm connects as well, knocking Dane flat.  A dazed Cannon
pushes back up to her feet, stumbling towards the corner, falling
backfirst into the buckles.  Breathing heavy, Cannon pushes herself up
to the second rope, sitting on the top turnbuckle, and lays in a heavy
slap on her arm.]

GM:  She's calling for Melissa's Cannon!  She told me to watch for this
- a flying clothesline off the middle rope!  That's what she wants to
use right here.

BW:  But if you know about it, Lori Dane may as well!

[Lori Dane rolls over, pushing herself up to her knees.  She shakes her
head back and forth, trying to clear the cobwebs as she shoves herself
back up to her feet...]

GM:  Dane's up!

[Cannon pauses a moment, waiting for her mentor to turn...

...and then hurls herself off the top, arm outstretched!]

GM:  CANNO-

BW:  CAUGHT!

[The crowd gasps as the veteran Dane slightly turns her body, catching
the diving Melissa Cannon across her shoulders...]

GM:  DANE DRIVER!  SHE'S GOING FOR THE DANE DRIV-

[But before the Death Valley Driver can come into reality, Melissa
Cannon scissors her mentor's arms with her own arms and legs, wriggling
and fighting...

...and toppling Dane down onto her shoulders!]

GM:  CRUCIFIX!!  CRUCIFIX!!!  ONE!!!  TWO!!!  THRE-

[Dane kicks out a heartbeat before a three count but Cannon hangs on to
the crucifix, rolling through into a position with Dane on her stomach
and Cannon hanging onto both limbs before SLAMMING the point of her
elbow into the side of Dane's head!]

GM:  Ohh!  Elbow shot!

BW:  Dane's arms are trapped!  She can't defend herself!

[The crowd roars as Dane rains down elbow after elbow to the exposed
skull of her former teacher.]

GM:  Dane's in serious trouble here, Bucky!  Lori Dane's trapped and-

[Switching her position, Cannon slides down enough to hook Dane's right
arm behind Melissa's left while keeping her legs wrapped around Dane's
left arm, arching her back to pull the two arms towards each other!]

GM:  Oh my stars!  My stars, what in the world is that?!

BW:  It's some kind of an armbar, daddy!  Look at the torque!  Look at
the pressure on the arms!

[Dane's screams fill the air as the AWA fans roar their approval for the
innovative submission hold.]

GM:  Cannon's hanging on for dear life, screaming at her mentor to give
it up!

[The screams of Cannon mix with Dane, creating a cacophony inside the
ring when suddenly the referee leaps to his feet, spinning to call for
the bell.]


"DING!  DING!  DING!"


GM:  SHE DID IT!!  SHE DID IT!!  SHE DID IT!!

[The crowd ERUPTS in cheers as Cannon releases the hold, allowing Dane
to slump facefirst back down to the canvas.  The triumphant Cannon rolls
to her back, her chest heaving rapidly as she struggles to pull air into
her body.  The referee lifts her hand, pointing to her as she forces
herself to a seated position.]

PW:  Here is your winner... MELISSAAAAAAA CANNNNONNNNNN!

[With the aid of the referee, Melissa Cannon gets dragged up to her
feet.  She stumbles over to the corner, falling back against the
buckles.  Barely able to stand, she slowly lifts an arm to salute the
cheering fans.]

GM:  What a moment for Melissa Cannon!  The first ever women's match in
AWA history and Melissa Cannon just made her former mentor submit to
that double armbar hold!  And these fans are letting her know just how
much they appreciate it.

[Cannon pushes off the corner, keeping a hand on the ropes as she slowly
walks across the ring towards her rival who is now sitting up with the
aid of the official as well.]

BW:  Finish her off, Cannon!  Remember what she did to you all those
months!

[Cannon keeps her eyes locked on Lori Dane as Dane lifts a hand, being
helped to her feet by the referee.  Leaning against the ropes, Dane
stares at her former student...

...and slowly extends her hand.]

GM:  Oh yeah!  Alright!

BW:  Again?  I'm havin' a serious case of deja vu here, Gordo.  Didn't
we just see this happen in our first match?

GM:  You can never have too much good sportsmanship in my book, Bucky!

[The weary Cannon stares her former teacher in the eye for a long, hard
moment...

...and brings up her hand to meet Dane's.  A huge cheer goes up as the
two women shake hands and then grows louder when they fall into an
embrace with one another.]

GM:  What a moment!  Teacher and student are together again!

[The two women stand against the ropes, speaking unheard words to one
another as they celebrate their match...

...when suddenly the celebration turns sour.]

GM:  What is HE doing out here?

[The camera quickly cuts to reveal James Monosso, dressed for his match,
stumbling from the backstage area.  He looks around puzzled at the
crowd, almost as if he has no idea where he is.]

GM:  Again, I ask - what is HE-

BW:  I heard you, Gordo.  You want to be the one to tell Monosso to get
out of here?

GM:  He's got no business out here!  His match is later tonight and-

[Monosso continues to wobble towards the ring, constantly looking
off-balance and out of control.  The referee, sensing trouble, moves to
confront the madman from Happy Valley...

...who promptly reaches over the ropes, grabbing the official by the
hair, and YANKING him over onto the platform where he rocks him with a
heavy stomp before climbing into the ring.]

GM:  He's in the ring!  This maniac is in the ring!  

BW:  Did you see what he just did to the ref?

GM:  Of course I did!  This guy is out of control, fans, and now he's-

[With Monosso now in the ring, Melissa Cannon and Lori Dane spot him,
breaking away from each other to face him.  Both look very nervous,
trying to edge away as Monosso continues to wander around the ring,
looking confused...]

GM:  What is wrong with him?  We're used to seeing Monosso act strangely
but this is... this is just odd!

[Melissa Cannon steps away from the ropes, raising a hand towards the
madman...

...who responds by grabbing her around the throat!]

GM:  WHOA!  WHOA!

[The crowd reacts with a similar response, disgusted by Monosso putting
his hands on a woman!]

GM:  James Monosso's got Melissa Cannon by the throat!  He's got her by-

[A protesting Lori Dane moves forward to help her student...

...and gets one of Monosso's huge hands wrapped around her throat as
well!]

GM:  Good god!  Get him out of there!  LET THEM GO, YOU SON OF A-

[The microphone mutes for a second, no sound coming from the arena
before suddenly we hear Gordon Myers again.]

GM:  This psychopath is out of control!  He needs to be back in the
hospital!  He needs to be back in... what is he doing?!

[With a vacant expression on his face, Monosso physically drags both
women by their throats to the middle of the ring.  Both Cannon and Dane
have fallen to their knees at this point, air being strangled out of
them by the madman...

...when suddenly a big cheer erupts!]

GM:  MICHAELSON!!  TODD MICHAELSON!!!

[The former World Champion comes jogging down the aisle...

...a steel chair gripped in his hands!]

GM:  Todd Michaelson's coming to the ring!  That's his wife in there,
for God's sake!

[Michaelson steps into the ring, completely unseen by Monosso.  The
crowd is roaring with anticipation, literally begging Todd Michaelson to
do something to save his wife and her student.  Shaking with rage,
Michaelson rears back as far as humanly possible with the steel
chair...]


"WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!"
"OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"


[The home run chairshot across the back of Monosso causes him to release
his grip on both Dane and Cannon.  Todd Michaelson seizes the moment to
grab both women, forcing them through the ropes to the safety of the
entrance ramp as Michaelson stands guard.]

GM:  Todd Michaelson!  A chairshot from Todd Michaelson just saved his
wife and Melissa Cannon from the grasp of this maniac!  This nutjob! 
This psychotic son of a-

[Michaelson stands, chair in hand, ready to swing again if Monosso comes
after them... 

...but Monosso simply kneels on the canvas, his head bowed.  Confused,
Michaelson throws the chair down on the mat and exits the ring, helping
both Dane and Cannon back up the ramp towards the locker room.]

GM:  Todd Michaelson just saved his wife from- who knows what James
Monosso was going to do?

BW:  It wasn't going to be pretty, I'll wager that much, Gordo.

GM:  You're absolutely right.  It took a full force swing of that chair
across the back of Monosso to get Dane and Cannon free but it was well
worth it.  Todd Michaelson and his wife are on the retreat and-

BW:  Monosso still hasn't moved since he got hit with the chair.  It's
almost like he doesn't even know what happened to him.  It's like...
some kind of a mental detatch, Gordo.

GM:  We've got... man, I can't believe that... we've got to take a quick
break, fans.  We'll be right back.

After a moment, we fade back up on a shot of Jason Dane and Mark
Stegglet in an apparently moving car.]

JD:  You know, Mark... the AWA Access iPhone app has been so popular
over the past year, I hear we're making a sequel!

MS:  Jason, that kind of news is so hot, it should be on the app!

[The two men laugh very awkwardly as a giant iPhone appears.]

JD:  Hello, Mr. iPhone.

[The iPhone speaks.  Yes.  Yes it does.]

iPhone:  Hello, Jason Dane.  Did you know that former AWA National
Champion Kolya Sudakov was a former Mixed Martial Artist?

JD:  Well, actually I did.

iPhone:  Mark Stegglet, did you know that Calisto Dufresne was the first
and only champion in Pro Wrestling Revolution?

MS(in his best Johnny Carson impression):  I did not know that!

[Thankfully, a voiceover starts.]

VO:  Starting today, you can download AWA Access Version 2.0!  This new
app contains a brand new TRIVIA mode where you can get all the details
on your favorite AWA superstars!  Plus, be the first to see our brand
new BEFORE THE AWA section where you can find matches from the best of
the AWA - before they were AWA!

AWA Access Version 2.0 - coming to an iPhone near you!

[Fade back to black...

And then back up to live action where we find Jason Dane as he stands in
front of the massive form of Alex Martinez.  As usual, Martinez wears
his black leather jacket, this time over a simple black t-shirt
unadorned by any logo.  He wears his wrestling pants and boots, and, as
always, his eyes are covered by a pair of mirrored sunglasses.   His
expression is calmer than usual, as Dane prepares to ask the first
question.]

JD:  Mr. Martinez, week after week, you've been the victim of an attack
by James Monosso.  Tonight is your chance to finally settle the score. 
But the question on everyone's mind is this.  How will you fight someone
who claims he has nothing to lose?

[Martinez' expression is hard to read.  Partially pensive, but there's
something else.  He looks like a man who has a lot on his mind.]

AM:  Well, ya know somethin', Jason Dane?  I been askin' myself
variations on the same question these last couple of weeks.  Ever since
Monosso first laid me out, I've been tryin' to figure out the answer.

How do ya fight someone with nothin' to lose?

[Martinez, usually fired up and aggressive, remains quiet and
contemplative.]

AM:  Then it occurred to me.  I've been tryin' to figure out what I need
to do to beat Monosso.  Been tryin' to change my game plan, adjust to
this new circumstance.  James Monosso, they say, is like no one else
I've ever faced.  And I let that get in my head, and change my thinkin'.
  Then I realized somethin':

I don't gotta be anyone but myself.

[Some of his characteristic fury creeps into Martinez' voice.]

AM:  Ya say ya want a piece of me Monosso.  Well, today is your lucky
day, you insane piece of trash, 'cuz I'm gonna give ya a piece. But I
wanna warn ya, it not a new piece.   It's the same piece I've left in
rings across this country... no, this world.

It's the piece that never stops fightin'.  The piece that never quits. 
What you're gonna get, James Monosso, is the beatin' heart of Alex
Martinez.   That super tough muscle that pumps blood through this big
frame of mine.

You're an empty man, Monosso.  Ya don't fight for glory or honor, or
even because ya like hurtin' people.  You've said it more than once. 
The only thing you're after is money. Ya took money from the Dragon
because you're jealous of me and because the only thing ya got goin' for
is a love of the green.  Well, Monosso, jealousy rots a man from the
inside out, and greed does nothin' but empty a man of heart and guts.  
And me? I'm all heart and guts.

So, how do I beat a lunatic?  Heck... there ain't no secret to it.  I do
the same thing I do to everyone.  I fight from the heart.  I fight
because I got somethin' to prove.  I fight for all the things ya can
never understand.

I punch, and I kick, and fight until I see the light go outta your eyes.
 And at that moment, when _no_ human being can go any further, I put my
hand around your throat, and I lift ya up in the air.

[Martinez yanks off his sunglasses, his eyes filled with fiery
intensity.]

AM:  And James Monosso, I'll Firebomb the crazy right outta ya.

JD:  And what about the mysterious Dragon, Mr. Martinez?

[Martinez' glare now turns on Jason.]

AM:  What about the Dragon?

JD:  You've said that you know who the Dragon is?

AM:  Oh, I know who the Dragon is.

JD:  Do you perhaps care to enlighten us?

[Martinez continues glaring at Dane, who gulps, thinking he might have
overstepped.  But finally, Martinez cracks a mild grin.]

AM:  Ya got guts kid.  Stickin' to your interviewin' instincts, even at
the risk of makin' me angry.  I admire that.   But Dane? I ain't gonna
tell ya, or anyone else, who the Dragon is.  Not yet.

First things first, Dane.

This is the Main Event, and tonight, I got somethin' big ahead of me. 
I'm goin' to the ring to fight a madman.  Can I beat him?  You bet your
butt I can.  But this ain't gonna be easy.  This is a challenge, make no
mistake about it.

I go to the ring tonight knowin' that somethin' bad is gonna happen. 
Not just to Monosso, but to me as well.  I _know_ for a fact that
tomorrow is gonna find me in a lotta pain.  I've been beaten up by
Monosso for weeks now, and I expect him to bring all that and more
tonight.

Thing is, Monosso... I'm lookin' forward to it.

This ends tonight.  You end tonight.  You're the first man the Dragon
sends after me, and you'll be the last.  Because after they see what I
do to ya, ain't no man on this planet gonna try and take me on.

And then Dane, when my business with Monosso is finished with?  Then
I'll let the world know who the Dragon is.

JD: There you have it.  Alex Martinez, ready for war with a madman.  
Back to you, Gordon and Bucky!

[We fade back to ringside... but we don't hear a word from Gordon and
Bucky at first.  Instead, it's James Monosso who is still at ringside...

...and just flipped over the timekeeper's table with an anguished howl.]

GM:  Good grief!  Fans, welcome back to The Main Event and while we were
at break, James Monosso snapped out of whatever state he was in and he's
going after everyone!  He's chased off Phil Watson!  He chased off the
timekeeper!  He just destroyed a steel chair out there by beating on the
ringpost!  And now he flipped over the table and he's just kicking the
wooden table now!  James Monosso has quite legitimately SNAPPED, fans,
and I don't know if we're going to be able to-

[The crowd EXPLODES as music kicks in.  Familiar music.]

#It's alright#
#It's alright#
#It's alright...#

#I'm just a little crazy#

[And as Fight's "Little Crazy" kicks in to a huge cheer, Alex Martinez
marches through the curtain looking every bit of his nickname that's not
safe for AWA television as he stomps down the ramp, heading towards the
ring where James Monosso's eyes have lit up!]

GM:  Wait a second!  This match isn't supposed to happen right now! 
This is scheduled for later tonight!

BW:  You gonna stop 'em?

GM:  Heck no!  As Big Jim Watkins would say, let's hook 'em up!

[As the seven foot Martinez draws near to the ring, James Monosso seizes
the moment to wing a steel chair in his direction, narrowly missing the
Last American Badboy who looks surprised but not intimidated.  Monosso
stumbles away, wandering the other way where he picks up another steel
chair, winging it overhead and up into the ring.]

GM:  Good grief!  If you're still down at ringside, look out!

[Martinez steps over the ropes into the ring, looking at Monosso who now
is standing by the ringside barricade, repeatedly slamming the palm of
his hand into the top of it, sending ringside fans scurrying.]

GM:  Monosso has lost the last fringes of sanity he was hanging onto,
Bucky.

BW:  I think you're right.  I'm a little nervous to even be out here
tonight when he's here.  This guy could decide that _I'm_ Alex Martinez
and try to break my neck!

[A hard kick by Monosso knocks the steel steps off its supports,
toppling it over.  Moving around the ringpost, Monosso snatches up
another steel chair, hurling it backwards over his head to the canvas.]

GM:  Look out!

BW:  But look at Martinez.  Monosso's doing all this damage out here,
tearing the place up, and Alex Martinez is as cool as a cucumber.

[Suddenly, Martinez has seen enough, stepping over the ropes again and
dropping down to the floor, turning to pursue Monosso who is wandering
away from him.]

GM:  Martinez is coming out after him!  The big man is gonna take the
fight to James Monosso!

[Moving around the corner, Martinez finds Monosso trapped by the wooden
entrance ramp that stands about four feet off the floor.  A wild-eyed
Monosso spins around and the two animals come together in a clash of
thrown blows.]

GM:  HERE WE GO!!

[Monosso's blows are thrown rapid fire, landing with startling
aggression time and again on the ear of the big man whose blows come
slower but with more impact.  A big haymaker from Martinez sends Monosso
stumbling backwards towards the ramp.]

GM:  Martinez gets the edge in the early battle, moving in on him now...

[But Monosso lands a well-placed boot to the gut, doubling up Martinez. 
The madman grabs Martinez by the hair, rearing his head back, and
SMASHING it into the wooden ramp!]

GM:  OHHHH!

[Martinez crumples from the impact, dropping to a knee on the
thinly-padded concrete floor as Monosso wheels around and drills him
with a right hand to the jaw, knocking him the rest of the way down to
the floor.]

GM:  Big shot by Monosso!  These two bulls just hit so hard, Bucky.

BW:  One punch from either of them would floor an antelope.  But with
them hitting each other, you're gonna need more than a punch.

GM:  And you just have to wonder if the mysterious Dragon is watching
this from somewhere.  Don't forget - it's the Dragon and his Minion that
started all this.  They sic'd Monosso on Martinez and tonight, they try
to reap the benefits of that.

BW:  But what if he fails?  In a world where James Monosso fails to take
someone out, is it even possible to have a Plan B?

[Monosso spins away from the downed Martinez, walking back around the
corner.]

GM:  Where's this nutcase going now?  And where the heck is our referee?

BW:  You said it yourself, Gordo.  This match wasn't scheduled to go on
yet.  The referee's not even out here for this one.  This one could get
real ugly in a hurry without a referee and-

GM:  Uh oh.

[The loud "CLANK!" that the camera picks up comes from James Monosso
grabbing the fallen steel steps, hoisting it up off the concrete floor,
walking towards the downed Martinez...]

GM:  No, no, no!  He can't do this, Bucky!

BW:  Nobody's gonna stop him!

[Raising the steel steps over his head, Monosso stumbles under the
weight towards Martinez who is starting to rise...

...and just narrowly sidesteps the steel steps flung at him that go
flying past, smashing into the wooden platform!]

GM:  HE MISSED!  HE MISSED!

[And an irate Martinez throws a big right hand to the jaw that sends
Monosso stumbling into the steel barricade.]

GM:  Monosso threw those steel steps at Alex Martinez who just barely
got out of the way in time... 

[Martinez keeps coming, throwing right hand after right hand to the
skull of Monosso who stumbles backwards, falling over the railing into
the front row of the crowd.  The crowd in the front row quickly
disperses as Martinez leans over, pulling Monosso up...

...and POPS him with an uppercut that knocks Monosso into the second
row!]

GM:  They're fighting in the crowd now! 

BW:  Well, Monosso is.  Martinez is still on the ring side of the
railing...

[Not for long though as the big man steps over the barricade into the
ringside area, pausing to pick up a steel chair off the ground, folding
it up...]


"WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!"
"OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"


GM:  BIG SHOT ACROSS THE BACK OF MONOSSO!!

BW:  The second steel chair to the back that James Monosso has taken
tonight!

[Monosso collapses off the shot, lying across several steel chairs in
the second row.  The big man steps up onto a chair in the front row,
holding up the seat he just used as a weapon to the roar of the crowd
before rearing back with it overhead...]

GM:  He's gonna crown Monosso with the chair!  He's gonna turn the
madman's lights out right now!

[As the maniac climbs to his feet, Martinez starts to bring the chair
down aimed at his skull...

...but Monosso gets his hands up, blocking the swing!]

GM:  Whoa!  Monosso blocked the chair!  He saw it comin' for his skull
and he blocked it!

[The two big men, each standing on a row of steel chairs, struggle over
the one held high above them...

...when the unorthodox Monosso lunges forward, smashing his skull into
the face of Martinez!]

GM:  Ohh!  What a headbutt!  Right in the cheek area!

[The steel chair falls into the hands of Monosso who rears back...]


"WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!"
"OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"


[The blow across the back of Martinez sends the seven footer lurching
forward, sailing over the barricade and down into a heap on the
thinly-padded concrete floor.  A smirking Monosso lifts the chair,
screaming loudly to the jeers of the Crockett Coliseum crowd.]

GM:  An exchange of blows with that steel chair out on the floor but... 

[Monosso hurls the chair over the railing, sending it into the ropes
where it bounces off and falls to the floor.]

GM:  This man has absolutely no respect for anyone.  No concern about
the welfare of these fans out here, just throwing steel chairs around
like it's no big deal.

[The madman steps over the chairbacks onto the front row of seats.  He
steps forward, resting one foot atop the barricade as he looks at the
downed Martinez...

...and then lunges forward, using the railing to fling himself into the
air, and SMASH the point of his elbow down into the heart of Martinez!]

GM:  Good grief!  What in the world was that?!

BW:  I've never seen anyone do that before!  I don't even know how to
describe it!

[Monosso lies motionless on the floor, breathing heavily as he rests
across the chest of Martinez.]

GM:  Let's... let's take another look at that one, fans...

[We quickly cut to a split-screen replay where the three-hundred pound
Monosso is standing on a steel chair in the front row with one foot on
top of the steel barricade.  With a shout, Monosso pushes off the chair
and off the barricade at the same time, sloppily flying through the air,
and smashing his elbow down into the heart of Martinez!]

GM:  Wow.  An incredibly athletic move for a man the size of James
Monosso... but it may have taken as much out of Monosso as it did out of
Martinez, Bucky.

BW:  It was Monosso who went flying through the air and landed on a
thinly-padded concrete floor!  Of course he's banged up after that,
Gordo!

GM:  Both men are down on the floor... and check this out, we've got a
referee!

[Referee Michael Meekly quickly gets to the ring, stepping through the
ropes to a mixed reaction from the crowd.]

GM:  I think several members of our crowd would have preferred to see
James Monosso and Alex Martinez get to battle it out WITHOUT a referee
for a little bit longer.

BW:  Once these two get back in the ring, you know this thing's going to
be in the rulebook.  That doesn't bode well for either of these guys who
excel so much at brawling and the extreme style.  Alex Martinez was BORN
in the land of Extreme.  He may have wrestled elsewhere first but few
would deny that his legacy began in the land of steel chairs, barbed
wire, and broken tables, daddy.

GM:  And a madman like Monosso thinks EVERYTHING is a weapon to him.

[Out on the floor, James Monosso slowly climbs to his feet, clutching
his ribs where he hit the floor.  He leans down, dragging the seven
footer off the floor by the hair.  The madman grabs the big man by the
arm...]


"THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD!"
"OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"


GM:  SPINEFIRST TO THE WOODEN PLATFORM!  GOOD GRIEF!!

BW:  The entrance platform is taking its fair share of abuse here
tonight!  Martinez just went spine-first into the wooden ramp!

[The big man slumps down to a seated position against the ramp as
Monosso approaches and begins raining down blows on the exposed skull of
Martinez.]

GM:  He's beating the big man into the ground!  The former World
Champion is taking a world-class pounding at the hands of James Monosso
here tonight!

[Grabbing the ramp with both hands, Monosso SLAMS his knee into the face
of Martinez once... twice... three times... four times... and peels
away, wandering the other direction as Michael Meekly shouts at him from
inside the ring.]

GM:  The official wants him in there.  Meekly needs to get these men
inside the ring to officially start this match and-

[With a loud roar, Monosso spins around, charging the dazed Martinez...

...and SLAMS his knee into the face of Martinez, smashing the back of
his head into the wooden platform!]


"OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"


GM:  Good grief!  Bucky, this is getting hard to watch for me!  This is
NOT the kind of action I like to see here in the AWA.  I want
athleticism!  I want professional wrestlers battling to be the best in
the world!  I do not want to see some wild out of control brawl!  That's
not what I signed up for!

BW:  Wild out of control brawls have ALWAYS been a part of wrestling. 
Get on the Internet some time, Myers.  Check out what's happened for
years in places like Japan and Puerto Rico!  Check out some of the
legendary brawls we've seen men like Ebola Zaire in!  

GM:  I like a good brawl as much as anyone but this is going too far! 
This is James Monosso going too far as usual!

[Monosso drags a dazed Martinez off the floor, throwing him under the
ropes into the ring.  Michael Meekly shouts for Monosso to get in as
well and as the Unholy Alliance member rolls under the ropes, the
referee signals for the bell to start the match which gets a sarcastic
cheer from the crowd.]

GM:  And NOW this match is official - and Bucky, conspicuous by his
absence has got to be Percy Childes!  Where is the manager of James
Monosso during arguably the biggest match of his life?

BW:  We know that Childes and the rest of the Unholy Alliance aren't
exactly on board with Monosso flying this "solo mission" for the Dragon.
 It wasn't cleared by the Alliance.  It wasn't approved by the Alliance.
 Maybe this is Percy Childes' way of showing Monosso who calls the shots
around here.

GM:  A typical selfish move by Childes to abandon his client when he
needs him.

BW:  Check your eyes, Gordo.  James Monosso doesn't look like he needs
ANYONE right now.

[Dropping down to his knees, Monosso grabs Martinez by the back of the
head, raking his face back and forth across the ring mat.]

GM:  Owww.. that's a way to get a serious case of mat burn, Bucky.

BW:  And a perfect example of how much James Monosso just likes to hurt
people.

[Monosso suddenly grabs Martinez by the left wrist, tugging hard to
fully extend the left arm...

...and then drops an elbow right near the shoulder pivot point on
Martinez' arm!]

GM:  Ohh!  Right on the arm!

BW:  Which is rare for Monosso.  Monosso is usually all-go,
straight-ahead, non-stop.  Just swinging for the fences and throwing
people around.  It's unusual to see him actually take the time to target
a bodypart.

[Holding the left wrist in his hand, Monosso violently kicks at the
tricep area over and over to the jeers of the crowd before throwing the
limp arm down to the mat where Martinez immediately grabs for it.]

GM:  And this could be what James Monosso is talking about.  We've heard
him say he doesn't need to beat Martinez.  We've heard him say he
doesn't need to destroy him.  He says he needs to hurt Martinez... he
needs to "take a piece"... that's how he gets paid by the Dragon.

BW:  You could be right, Gordo.  That left arm looks like a nice piece
to take home to the Dragon.

[A sneering Monosso pulls Martinez up by the hair...

...and catches a right hand to the gut!]

GM:  Ohh!  Big shot down low!

[Getting to his feet, Martinez throws a big kneelift to the jaw,
snapping Monosso's head back, knocking him back towards the corner. 
Moving in on the madman, Martinez grabs the ropes with both hands,
throwing a big knee to the midsection over and over again.  With Monosso
stunned, Martinez grabs the arm, firing him across the ring...]

GM:  Monosso hits the corner hard... here comes the big man!

[The seven footer hits the big running clothesline in the corner,
rocking the madman!]

GM:  What a clothesline!  He got all of that and-

[The crowd roars as Martinez grabs the dazed and stumbling Monosso
around the throat with his right hand!]

GM:  He's got him!  He's got him by the throat!

[Nodding to the crowd, Martinez reaches up to grab Monosso with the left
hand as well.]

GM:  Double choke!  He's going for the Firebomb!

BW:  And if he hits it, it's over - even if it's James Monosso getting
hit with it!

[Reeking of desperating, Monosso reaches up and jabs a thumb into the
eye of Martinez, forcing him to break his grip and stumble away.  The
madman lifts both hands, smashing them down across Martinez' neck with a
double axehandle that puts the big man down to his knees.]

GM:  This is wild.  We've got Martinez who keeps fighting up to his feet
and Monosso who just keeps knocking him down.  Think about that, Bucky. 
This is Alex Martinez, the sure-fire Hall of Famer, the former World
Champion... when have you EVER seen Alex Martinez be physically
threatened like this?

[Backing into the ropes, Monosso moves off...

...and DRILLS the kneeling Martinez with a big boot to the face,
knocking him flat!]

GM:  Good grief!  What a shot that was!

BW:  That's the kind of kick to the mush that has you seein' stars and
countin' canaries, daddy!

GM:  Martinez is down... he may be completely out...

BW:  He'd better hope not because you may have noticed that James
Monosso hasn't even ATTEMPTED a pin yet.  He wants to hurt Martinez. 
Plain and simple.  And an unconscious Martinez is in serious trouble at
this guy's mercy.

[Monosso approaches, grabbing the top rope to deliver stomp after stomp
to the left arm of Martinez.]

GM:  And it becomes very clear that the left arm is EXACTLY what Monosso
is after!

[The madman grabs the left arm, pinning the wrist down to the mat with
his boot.  Martinez struggles against it, trying to pull his weakened
arm free...

...when Monosso suddenly leaps up, dropping all 280 pounds down on the
arm with a King Kong kneedrop!]

GM:  OHHHHHHH!

BW:  That'll break it!  That might break the arm, Gordo!

[And the sounds of Alex Martinez, one of the toughest men in the history
of our sport, screaming in agony as he grabs at his left arm implies the
exact same thing.]

GM:  My stars - I can't believe I just saw that.  I can't believe it. 
And if I'm Alex Martinez, I may be starting to think about quitting this
match.

BW:  Then you're not Alex Martinez because that man would never quit.

GM:  He may not have a choice, Bucky!  His arm may be broken!

BW:  His arm could be ripped off his body and he'd still find a way to
keep fighting!  I promise you that!

GM:  Well, maybe the referee should look at stopping this.

BW:  That's a surefire way to find yourself Firebombed.  Martinez will
permanently injure anyone who ends this match except himself or James
Monosso, I guarantee it, Gordo.

[Grabbing the left wrist, Monosso hauls the pain-ravaged Martinez to his
feet, wheeling him around into an Irish whip...]

GM:  The big man off the ropes...

[And he ends up under the right arm of Monosso who wheels around and
DRIVES Martinez down to the canvas with a thunderous sidewalk slam!]

GM:  OHHHH!  What impact there!  And if he went for a cover here, I
think he might be able to win this but...

BW:  But he's not gonna do it.  He wants the injury.  He wants the
blood.

[Still on his knees, Monosso kneels on the left wrist, pinning it to the
mat as he hammers away with hammerfists on the bicep and tricep,
screaming like a maniac as he lands each and every blow.]

GM:  This guy is sick - he's not right in the head, Bucky.

BW:  What gave it away?  The uniform from the nuthouse?

[As the referee forces Monosso to get back to his feet, a hurting Alex
Martinez rolls from the ring onto the entrance ramp, taking a moment to
try and recover.]

GM:  Martinez is out on the ramp.  He's looking for a second wind but
he's not gonna get it because here comes Monoss-

[The crowd jeers Monosso as he shoves down a protesting official.]

GM:  Oh, come on!  Ring the bell, ref!  Michael Meekly just got pushed
down to the mat by James Monosso!  This psychopath is out of control and
he needs to be stopped!

BW:  Like I said, that's the quickest way to get yourself Firebombed. 
Martinez will be furious if someone DQs Monosso unless he's about to use
a shotgun... and even then, Martinez might think he knows a counter for
it.

[Stepping out on the wooden ramp, Monosso leans down to grab Martinez by
the hair...

...and catches a right uppercut to the chin!]

GM:  Ohh!  Big right hand!

[The blow knocks Monosso backwards, causing him to stumble into the
ropes...

...but he rebounds off, creaming a doubled-up Martinez with another boot
to the face, knocking him down onto the wood once more.  Inside the
ring, the referee shouts for both men to get back in, threatening to
start a ten count.]

GM:  The referee says he's gonna start a count.  And you can bet these
fans won't like that.  They're enjoying seeing this two monsters beat
the holy heck out of each other!

[Monosso again reaches down, grabbing a handful of hair to pull Martinez
off the wooden ramp...

...and again gets popped with a right hand to the jaw!]

GM:  Martinez continues to try to fight back!  He continues to throw
those haymakers at every opportunity!

[With Monosso a step back, Martinez takes the chance to kick him in the
gut and then smash an overhead elbow with his right arm across the back
of the head, knocking the madman down to a knee.]

GM:  Down to a knee goes Monosso...

[Grabbing a handful of Monosso's hair, a furious Martinez buries a right
hand between the eyes.  A second one connects as well, smashing into the
bridge of Monosso's nose.  Martinez' left hand joins his right in
Monosso's hair...

...and he SLAMS his skull into the face of Monosso with a headbutt!]

GM:  Good grief!  What a headbutt!

[Still on his feet, Martinez drags Monosso up to his feet, reaching down
to scoop him up, holding him across his chest...]

GM:  He's got Monosso up... up for a slam it appears and...

[Martinez grits his teeth, summoning his strength...

...and hoists Monosso higher, powering the 280 pounder up over his head,
Monosso's stomach resting on Martinez' skull!]

GM:  Wait a second!  Wait a second!  What's he doing here?!

[With a roar, Martinez presses Monosso the rest of the way up, holding
him high overhead with a military press!]

GM:  THIS STARTED WITH MONOSSO THROWING MARTINEZ OVER THE TOP TO THE
FLOOR!

BW:  NOW IT MIGHT END THAT WAY!!

[The crowd roars as Martinez wobbles towards the edge of the ramp, his
face a picture of physical exertion as he battles the injury to his left
arm to keep the big man powered above his head...]

GM:  He's got him up - right on the edge of the ramp... right on-

[But Monosso wriggles free, not about to be victim to his own signature
move and thrown off the ramp to the floor.  He drops to a knee behind
Martinez, popping up as the big man turns around...

...and sinking his teeth into the forehead of the former World
Champion!]

GM:  He's biting him!  Monosso's biting Martinez!

[The madman pushes Martinez closer to the edge of the ramp with his
teeth sunk into the big man's skull...

...when Martinez suddenly shoves him off with a big push, creating space
between the two men!]

GM:  He just tore Martinez' forehead open and-

[The crowd ROARS as Martinez charges two steps, throwing his massive leg
up and catching Monosso right in the chest!]


"OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"


[The big boot to the chest sends Monosso sailing backwards off the
elevated ramp, flying through the air...

...and SMASHING spinefirst down on the thinly-padded concrete floor!]

GM:  GOOD GRIEF!!  GOOD GRIEF!!  MY STARS IN HEAVEN!!

BW:  He went sailing off the ramp like some sort of twisted Nestea
Plunge and SMASHED into the floor!  Monosso's back... the back of his
head... they all hit that thinly-padded floor!  Unbelievable, Gordo!

GM:  James Monosso may be done right there!  Alex Martinez may have just
ENDED James Monosso right here in Dallas.  And would you listen to this
crowd roaring their support for Martinez?!  Incredible!

[Alex Martinez walks to the edge of the ramp, staring down at the
motionless Monosso.  The big man reaches up, wiping the back of his hand
across his forehead where the teeth of Monosso opened up a small gash. 
Shaking his head, he hops off the ramp down to the floor, approaching
his downed rival.  Inside the ring, Michael Meekly is losing his mind,
screaming at both men to get back inside the ring!]

GM:  Meekly wants them back in but I don't even know if James Monosso
can MOVE after what we just saw!  Can he even get up from that, Bucky?

BW:  We've seen James Monosso get up from a lot, Gordo.  He's gotten up
from a lot of punishment in the past.  But can he get up from this?  I'm
not so sure about that one.

[Martinez approaches the downed Monosso, still not moving after the big
fall from the ramp.  The Los Angeles native toes the body of Monosso,
like a hero in a horror movie making sure the monster is down for the
count.  The former World Champion looks up at Meekly who is screaming at
him, ordering him to get back into the ring.  He reaches down, dragging
Monosso to his feet by his stringy hair, and shoving his limp body under
the ropes into the ring.]

GM:  Martinez puts Monosso back in... and now he slides in as well...

[The big man crawls forward, applying a lateral press.]

GM:  ONE!!  TWO!!!  THRE-  WHAT?!

[The crowd ROARS with shock as James Monosso fires a shoulder off the
canvas before the three count can come down.]

GM:  My god... my god, I can't believe that, Bucky.  He got the shoulder
up!

BW:  The monster lives!  The Human Horror Movie lives for one more kill!

GM:  Alex Martinez can't believe it... our fans can't believe... I can't
believe it!  James Monosso took one of the most sickening falls I've
ever seen during a wrestling match and he kicked out!  Incredible!

[Shaking his head, Martinez gets to his feet.  He reaches down, grabbing
Monosso around the throat, hauling him up to his feet...]

GM:  The big man's got him up!  What's he gonna do?!

BW:  You know what he's gonna do!  The whole world knows what he's gonna
do!

[Martinez reaches up with his left hand, hooking the double choke as the
crowd loses their collective minds.]

GM:  HE LIFT-

[But the former World Champion recoils, immediately grabbing his left
arm and staggering away from Monosso who he drops harmlessly to the
mat.]

GM:  He couldn't get him up!  Monosso's done too much damage to the arm!
 He's done too much- NO!

[With a burst of energy, Monosso gets to his feet, grabbing Martinez by
the bank of the tights...

...and HURLING him left shoulderfirst into the steel ringpost!]


"OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"


GM:  MY GOD!!  HE DROVE THE SHOULDER INTO THE POST!!!  Alex Martinez'
left arm was already hanging by a thin thread before that and James
Monosso just put his shoulder into the unforgiving steel ringpost!

[Monosso collapses to a knee after the surge of offense, breathing
heavily as he reaches around to the back of his head, finding a trickle
of blood escaping a cut on the back of the skull.]

GM:  Monosso's bleeding.  Martinez is bleeding.  This is getting nasty
in a hurry and parents, I'd advise you to use your own discretion if
your little ones are in the room.  We pride the AWA on being
family-friendly entertainment but when you're dealing with men like
Monosso and Martinez, you just never know what the hell is gonna happen!

[The madman from Happy Valley pulls himself to his feet, staggering over
to the ropes where he slips out through the ropes.]

GM:  Oh no.

BW:  You know what's comin' now, daddy!

GM:  The move you've termed the Concussionator!

BW:  -izer.

GM:  Whatever you want to call it!  He can't do it!  He can't kick the
man's head into the ringpost, Bucky!  He just can't-

BW:  Watch!

[Monosso points a finger at Martinez whose head is pressed against the
steel, "pulling the trigger" before charging down the ring apron,
raising his foot at nearly the last moment...

...and it's only nearly the last because at the last moment, Alex
Martinez pulls his head free from its spot, causing Monosso to SLAM his
own foot into the ringpost!]

GM:  HE MISSED!!  HE MISSED!!

[And free of the ropes, Alex Martinez relies completely on instinct as
he rears back his left arm and uncorks the mother of all standing
lariats, a blow that sends Monosso sailing off the apron, crashing down
in a heap on the barely-padded floor!]

GM:  DOWN TO THE-

[The words of Gordon Myers are interrupted by Martinez screaming out in
pain again, clutching at his injured left arm as he falls down to a
knee, clutching the ropes to stay up.]

GM:  Monosso hit the floor but what did that do to the arm of Martinez? 
What did that do to the injured arm of Alex Martinez?  James Monosso is
down... the referee just started a count on him but Alex Martinez looks
like he's just barely conscious as well.

[Martinez suddenly drops to his back, rolling to the floor.]

GM:  He's going after Monosso!

BW:  I told you he wouldn't let this match end that way, Gordo.  I told
you!

[The Last American Badboy drags Monosso up by the hair, slinging him
back under the ropes into the ring.  He crawls in after him, throwing
himself into a lateral press.]

GM:  ONE!!  TWO!!!  THRE-

[The crowd ROARS with shock once more as Monosso throws a leg over the
bottom rope.  A stunned Michael Meekly pops up, pointing out the leg on
the ropes to Alex Martinez who pushes off to his knees, shaking his
head.]

GM:  Monosso survived the fall off the ramp to the floor!  He survived
the lariat that knocked him to the floor as well!  What more can Alex
Martinez do to this man?  What can he do to finish this monster off?

BW:  I think you know what he can do!

GM:  I think we all do!  Martinez pulls him up... choke!

[His right hand wrapped around Monosso's throat, Martinez shakes his
head.  He clenches his jaw, pointing to the cheering crowd with his left
hand before locking the left hand around the throat as well.]

GM:  He's got the double choke again!  He couldn't do it last time!  Can
he do it?!  Can he get him up?  Can he get him into the air?

[He attempts the lift again...

...but again falls back, clutching the arm.  A dazed Monosso slumps back
against the ropes as Martinez tries to regroup.  A furious Martinez lets
loose a shout as he marches forward, grabbing the right-handed choke,
yanking Monosso out to the middle of the ring.]

GM:  He's got him hooked again!  He's got him by the throat!

[And with a deafening bellow, Martinez somehow hoists Monosso up into
the air with one hand, getting him high enough in the air that he can
grab the madman from Happy Valley with both arms around the legs...

...and DRIVE Monosso down to the canvas with a powerbomb!]

GM:  OHHH!  A MODIFIED VERSION OF THE FIREBOMB!!

[Martinez topples over, throwing an arm across the chest of Monosso.]

GM:  ONE!!  TWO!!  THREEEEEEEEE!!!


"DING!  DING!  DING!"


[The crowd roars for the bell as the referee points to the downed
Martinez, declaring him the victor.]

PW:  Here is your winner... AAAAAAALEX MAAAAAAAARRRRTIIIINEZ!

[The crowd gets even louder at the announcement as the referee assists
Martinez in getting up to his knees, raising the right arm to show the
world the winner as Monosso lies flat on his back on the canvas.]

GM:  My heavens, what a war that was, Bucky.  In all my years in this
business, I don't know that I've ever seen anything quite like that. 
James Monosso and Alex Martinez just took each other to hell and back...
and for what?  Why?

BW:  Because the Dragon said so!

GM:  The Dragon... the Dragon caused all this.  This mysterious
individual... the man that Alex Martinez says he knows the identity to.
You think this is the end of this?  The Dragon failed to end Alex
Martinez tonight but this won't be the last time he tries, I believe.

BW:  And like I said earlier, when James Monosso fails - who is Plan B?

[The crowd continues to roar as Alex Martinez slowly gets to his feet,
grabbing his left arm, a small trickle of blood coming down his
forehead.  The big man staggers to the ropes, leaning against them as he
faces the entry ramp.  James Monosso rolls from the ring with the aid of
a couple AWA officials as Martinez lifts his right hand, pointing down
the ramp.]

GM:  What's he doing?  What is Martinez pointing at?

[The camera cuts to reveal exactly who Martinez is pointing at - The
Minion.]

GM:  The Minion!  The spokesman for the Dragon!  He's the one who
started all this, Bucky.  He's the reason that we just saw these two men
shorten one another's careers tonight!  Why is he here?

[Martinez shouts in the Minion's direction - "What else ya got?!  WHO'S
NEXT?!"]

GM:  Martinez wants to know who else the Dragon has up his sleeves!

BW:  Do Dragons have sleeves?

GM:  You know exactly what I mean.  If James Monosso couldn't do it, who
else does the Dragon have under his employ who can?  Who else will-

[The voice of the Minion rings out, interrupting Gordon Myers.]

Minion: What is this, Mighty Martinez?  You wish to know what form the
next leg of our journey will take?

[Fairly frothing at the mouth, Martinez waves the Minion on, calling for
another challenge or, perhaps, challenging the Minion himself.]

Minion: On and on we progress towards the destruction that I must
witness and you must suffer.  I would say that I pity you, Martinez ...
save that, in another life, you showed no pity for me...

[A small confused sound escapes the capacity crowd as the Minion shakes
his masked head.  Martinez looks puzzled, wiping the grime and gore away
from his weathered face.]

GM: The _Minion_ knows Martinez?  Is he the Dragon himself?

BW: I dunno about that.  Think about it.  All the enemies he's made,
Minion could be any of 100 guys!  Besides, he's said over and over that
he's serving someone.

[The Minion continues.]

Minion: Even now you stand there, all bluster, waiting perhaps for my
entrance into the ring so that you may strike me down again. Isn't it
boring to you by now, Martinez?  Aren't you tired of the repetition?

[Suddenly, the Minion lifts his left arm, a black duffel bag hanging
from his hand.]

Minion: This is the next step, Martinez.  The contents of this parcel
craft the next stage of our journey.  Heh.  We are co-conspirators, you
and I.  This is clear to you now, yes?

[Glaring up the aisle at the Minion, Martinez' stone cold hatred is
mingled with some curiosity.  What could be in that bag?]

Minion: In truth, I never wanted to see you fall but, as it must happen
in any case, why would I not want to bear witness to history?  To play a
part and have a hand in an event that will shake the foundations of our
world ... this is what every wrestler dreams of, isn't it? When your
career ends, men will rend their jerkins, women will sob and children
will hide their eyes as their innocence is ripped away from them.  It
will be as a great Greek tragedy.  When the final knife falls, Mighty
Martinez ... who will be your Brutus?

[Without further explanation, the Minion extends the duffel out to one
side and holds it as someone emerges from the entrance tunnel.  Someone
we have not seen in a long, long while.]

GM:  That's... what the hell...

BW:  It's Larry Doyle!

[Indeed it is.  The outspoken loudmouth manager strides into view,
standing alongside The Minion with a large grin on his face.]

GM:  What is Larry Doyle doing here?!  We haven't seen him since
SuperClash!  

BW:  I thought he was NEVER coming back, Gordo!

[Doyle reaches up, grabbing the duffel bag from the Minion's
outstretched hand.  Doyle unzips the bag, looking inside it...

...and an even bigger grin crosses his face.  He nods his head at the
Minion before looking back up at a puzzled Martinez.]

GM:  What is going on here?  What's in that bag?

[Doyle suddenly lifts his hand, dragging a thumb across his throat.]

GM:  Is that supposed to be some kind of a joke?  Is Alex Martinez
supposed to be afraid of Larry Doy-

[The crowd ERUPTS in jeers as two men in street clothes come charging
through the crowd, hurdling the barricade, and diving into the ring. 
The roar of the crowd tips off Martinez who turns just in time to be
bum-rushed back into the corner under a barrage of punches and kicks!]

GM:  That's the Blonde Bombers!  It's Bobby Baldwin and Love Machine
Nova!  What the heck is going on here?!

[The Bombers quickly overwhelm the battered and bloodied Martinez,
smashing him into the corner under their combined efforts.  A quick cut
down the ramp shows Larry Doyle nodding approvingly.  He says a quick
word to the Minion and begins making his way down the ramp towards the
ring.]

GM:  Doyle's on his way down to the ring - the Bombers - his Blonde
Bombers are all over the former World Champion, Alex Martinez!

[A double whip across the ring sends Martinez crashing into the corner. 
As he stumbles out, Love Machine Nova flattens him with a running
clothesline.  At a shout, Bobby Baldwin quickly scales the ropes...

...and leaps off his perch, crashing down with a legdrop across the
throat!]

GM:  Ohh!  Big legdrop off the top!  

[The Bombers pop back up, celebrating to the jeers of the crowd.]

GM:  Give me a break!  They're beating up a guy who just went to hell
and back and we're supposed to be impressed!  

BW:  Hey, he's still a former World Champion and the man you call a
surefire Hall of Famer.  Beating him up is something to take pride in,
Gordo!

GM:  When he's in a weakened state, it definitely is not!

[Out on the ramp, Larry Doyle grabs the top rope as he starts to remove
his cowboy boot.]

GM:  He's taking off that boot - that loaded cowboy boot!

BW:  How do you know it's loaded?  You have no proof of that!  That's
slander, Gordo!

GM:  I'd wager just about anything that it most certainly is loaded!

[Tossing the boot into the ring to Love Machine Nova, he winds up with
it and waffles Martinez across the ribcage with it.]

GM:  Ohh!  Come on!  We need some help out here!

BW:  Who do you want to save Alex Martinez?  The man doesn't exactly
scream friend material.  He's an island all to himself and never makes
the effort to make friends!  Who's gonna come out here and risk their
own neck to save a man like this?  Who?

[Baldwin leans down, dragging Martinez to his feet by his injured left
arm, and pulls the arms behind him to leave him exposed for Nova.]

GM:  Nova's gonna waffle him again!  He's backing off... he's gonna run
and hit him over the head with that boot!

[At Larry Doyle's urging, that seems to be exactly what's going to
happen as Love Machine Nova raises the boot overhead, charging across
the ring...

...and catching a big boot raised up by Martinez!]

GM:  OH YEAH!!  NOVA RAN INTO THE BOOT!!

BW:  That was purely desperation by Martinez!  Finish him off, Bobby!

[Spinning Martinez around, Baldwin rocks him with a hard right hook on
the jaw, sending Martinez falling back into the corner. Baldwin moves
in, leaping up to land a jumping knee to the chest.  He hauls Martinez
from the corner by the left arm, waving his partner to help.]

GM:  The Bombers with a double team... double whip...

[But an attempted double clothesline is smashed down by Martinez who
spins around and...]

GM:  DOUBLE CLOTHESLINE!!  HE WIPES OUT BOTH OF THE BOMBERS!!

[The seven footer kneels on the canvas, clutching his left arm and
crying out in pain as the Bombers writhe around on the mat behind him. 
Larry Doyle is absolutely beside himself as the crowd roars, jumping up
and down and screaming at his men from his spot on the ramp...]

GM:  Doyle can't believe it!  His men had an edge on a wounded and tired
Alex Martinez and-

[HUGE CHEER!]

GM:  MARTINEZ GRABS DOYLE BY THE THROAT!  HE'S GOT DOYLE BY THE THROAT!

[But the crowd's hoped chokeslam never arrives...

...as the Masked Menace does!]

GM:  The Menace?!  We haven't seen him for months either!  What the hell
is going on here?!

[The Masked Menace puts his 330 pounds to immediate good use, battering
Martinez across the back of the head and neck, knocking him down to his
knees where a well-placed boot 
knocks him all the way down to the mat.  An angry Larry Doyle climbs
through the ropes, putting the boots to Martinez as well.]

GM:  This is a mugging!  This is a pre-meditated assault by these
jackals!

[Soon, the Bombers are back up and they join in as well, leaving four
men to absolutely pummel the former World Champion as the crowd goes
absolutely nuts jeering their every move.]

GM:  We've got a four on one beatdown of epic proportions on Alex
Martinez!

BW:  This is the Dragon, Gordo!  You wanted to know what was Plan B - I
think you're looking at it!  Plan B is Plan Blonde Bombers, daddy!  The
Bombers are back, the Menace is back, and best of all, Larry Doyle is
back!

GM:  And they're all taking the Last American Badboy to-

[DEAFENING CHEER!]

GM:  WHAT THE-?!

BW: NO!  NOT HIM!

[The Menace gets a butterfly grip and heaves Martinez up with a mighty
grunt over one shoulder.  The crowd ROARS as someone comes sprinting
down the aisle, steel chair in hand, rushing through the ropes into the
ring and taking a wild swing at Larry Doyle who narrowly escapes by
diving through the ropes!]

GM:  He almost took Larry Doyle's head off!  He almost decapitat- whoa! 
He took a swing at Baldwin too!  Menace went for his finisher the DMD,
but he drops Martinez!

[The Bombers bail from the ring, not eager to fight anyone with a
swinging steel chair.  They join Doyle on the floor, leaving only the
Menace who looks like he might take the wildman on who is now standing
over the downed Martinez, standing guard with the steel chair at the
ready.  He speaks a few choice words and takes a step forward as the
chair is lifted...

...then even the Menace sees the appeal of living to fight another day,
exiting the ring to join the threesome on the floor as they make their
way back up the aisle.]

GM:  My stars, I can't believe it!  Of all the people, of all the
wrestlers... I never thought it would be him to save Alex Martinez!  I
never thought it would be him, Bucky!

BW:  Doesn't he have enough to worry about tonight?

[The crowd is absolutely losing their minds now as the savior stands
over Martinez, the steel chair at the ready in case the Bombers and gang
return but they're bailing out and soon, he throws the chair down to the
mat, looking enraged at the retreating attackers.]

GM:  Martinez is getting up.  I don't think he even knows yet.  I don't
think he-

BW:  Now he does!

[And the look on his face speaks volumes as he stares across the ring at
the man who just saved him from a brutal four-on-one assault.  His eyes
are wide with disbelief and a "YOU?" can be picked up by a ringside mic.
 His savior shrugs his shoulders, grinning sheepishly...

...and then looks equally shocked as Martinez sticks out a hand,
bringing an even louder roar from the crowd!]

GM:  Oh yeah!   Martinez can't believe it but he wants to thank him!  He
wants to thank the man who just saved his skin!

[And after a prolonged moment with the man looking around at the roaring
crowd, looking to see if he should accept...

...Juan Vasquez reaches forward and shakes the hand of Alex Martinez to
one of the loudest reactions in AWA history!  Cut up the aisle to show
the Bombers, Doyle and the Menace passing the Minion who gives a slow
clap for the men in the ring.  Cut back to Martinez and Vasquez. 
Bloodied and wobbly, Martinez has his hand raised in victory by the AWA
National Champion.]

GM:  My stars!  What a moment!  What a moment!  I can't believe what we
just saw!  Alex Martinez and Juan Vasquez... are on the same side? 
Incredible!  Fans, we've got to take a break so... well, enjoy this for
a moment.

[For a long moment, the camera stays on the two fan favorites, soaking
up the deafening cheers of the AWA faithful...

...and then fades 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!"

[Now a shot of Kolya Sudakov in a fighting pose with the belt hanging
over his shoulder.]

"You've seen the best the AWA has to offer wearing it!"

[A shot of Stevie Scott holding the belt high in the air.]

"And now, it can be yours!"

[A final shot of Juan Vasquez, battered yet triumphant with the gold
belt held in both hands 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 we come back up to a shot of the ring where surprisingly
Gordon Myers is standing.]

GM: Ladies and gentlemen, we've all had hardships in our lives,
tragedies that sometimes seem to consume us. The AWA wrestlers are
people just like you and I. I would like to introduce to you one of
these wrestlers who has something to get off his chest tonight.

[Gordon folds his hands around the microphone and looks towards the
entranceway. There's a short pause, then the somber strings of "Dead
Flowers" by Townes Van Zandt" sway onto the airwaves. Jack Holland,
called the Gentleman, steps out from the curtain and stands at the top
of the ramp with his hands upon his hips. He wears his usual black
leather jacket, but underneath he has on a light blue buttondown and
blue jeans. He takes a moment to look around at the crowd before heading
down the ramp.

Holland climbs onto the apron, wipes his boots on the apron, and enters
the ring. He shakes hands with Myers and then stands off a bit. Holland
is doing his best to keep a straight face here, but his jaw trembles at
times.]

GM: Jack Holland, thank you for coming out here.

GJH: You got it, Myers.

GM: Now, you requested this time, so I suppose I'll let you speak your
mind.

GJH: Much obliged.

[Holland rubs his hand over his face to gather his thoughts.]

GJH: Now... I pride myself on being a great professional wrestler. I do
take a lot of pride in that, I worked hard at it, and at this point in
my career I think I'm at my best. And I've been bringing that skill,
that determination, and that intensity to the AWA ring each and every
time I step out here. I think you fans deserve it and nothing less.

[There's a smattering of applause in the crowd and a few encouraging
hollers. Holland smiles weakly and nods.]

GJH: Thank ya, thank ya. But these last few weeks... well, I just ain't
been feeling myself. On Saturday Night Wrestling two weeks ago -- and
now I don't wanna take nothin' away from Kendall Stanton, he's a hell of
a wrestler and he gave everything he had -- but I definitely wasn't on
my game and that cost me a win. And last SNW, well, I couldn't keep
myself in check. I actually had a few... well, a lot to drink before
that match. I denied Rick Scott the chance to really show what he could
do.

[Holland shakes his head in disappointment at himself.]

GJH: I haven't been able to give that one hundred percent effort that I
expect of myself and that these fans expect of me.

[Holland pauses here and exhales through his nostrils.]

GM: Several weeks back you missed a match of yours due to some
emergency, but since then we haven't heard anything about just what it
was that caused you to leave so abruptly.

[Holland's hands return to his hips. He nods somberly.]

GJH: It was a real sensitive issue, Myers, still is. But you all have
been patient with me, even when I been a bit ornery.

[Holland chuckles a bit but the laugh is without joy.]

GJH: So I figure I owe all'a you an explanation.

[Again, Holland pauses. Emotion is clearly welling up in his chest. He
tilts his head as if to make it roll back down inside him before
addressing the microphone.]

GJH: A few weeks ago... my momma, 67 years old and still living back in
Elizabeth, Colorado.

[A solitary whoop goes up from somewhere in the crowd at the mention of
Colorado.]

GJH: She was walkin' back home from the drugstore when she got mugged by
three hoods. She took a bad fall, broke her hip, fractured her femur.
Had to go to the hospital and the whole nine, she's still sitting in a
leg cast now.

[A collective sympathy groan lifts from the audience.]

GJH: More'n that, I think, my momma's always been an outgoing woman. She
was the one who inspired me to keep at the wrestling thing even when it
looked grim. She drove me to most of my amateur meets. Everybody on the
block knew her and liked her. But since this incident she's been cooped
up at home, she won't even look out the window.

[Holland gets choked up and has to turn away from the microphone. He
sniffs, exhales through his mouth, rubs his nose and decides to
continue.]

GJH: So maybe you can understand why my head hasn't been in the game
completely.

GM: Of course, of course.

GJH: But my momma's gotta get her hip replaced. She's gotta pay those
hospital bills. We never had much to begin with, see. She doesn't have a
way to take care of this herself. So it's me that's gotta take care of
my momma the way she used to take care of me. And I'm gonna take care of
her. I'm gonna do everything in my power to see that she's comfortable
and healthy and ain't nothin' gonna stop me from doin' that.

[The crowd claps sympathetically. Holland sighs heavily.]

GJH: Where I'm gonna get the money, I dunno. I didn't get my hands on
the Longhorn Heritage Championship, so I don't have the extra cash from
that. Couldn't win the Steal the Spotlight match. And ever since my
momma's emergency I've been pissin' away my opportunities here in the
AWA. I'm in dire straits, Myers. Somehow, I gotta make the money to set
my momma's situation aright. 

[Holland lifts a hand as if to forestall objections.]

GJH: But I don't wanna make excuses, that's not what Jack Holland does.
I want all you fans to know... I'm gonna mend my ways. I'm gonna focus,
I'm gonna bring the fight that you all expect out of me back to the AWA
ring. Every winner's purse I get I'm grateful for and I will strive to
earn them just like I've always done. I just...

[Holland sniffs and lets his arm drop. He shakes his head.]

GJH: Myers, I just don't know if it's gonna be enough. I just don't
know.

[Holland continues to shake his head, muttering.]

GM: Well, Jack, thanks for sharing that with us. I'm sure all of our
thoughts and prayers are with your mother right now.

GJH: Thank you, Myers. Thanks a lot.

[Holland shakes Myers's hand. He then turns to the crowd and gives them
a big wave. The crowd applauds.]

GJH: Thank you!

[A small "Hol-land! Hol-land!" chant sparks up. Holland smiles wanly
before making his exit, climbing through the ropes and dropping onto the
ground. He heads up the ramp, slapping the hands of a few fans and
giving some quiet thank yous on his way to the back.]

GM:  My broadcast colleague, Mark Stegglet, is standing by in the locker
room with a special guest.  Let's go there now.

[Mark Stegglet is standing in the center of the shot, wearing his usual
attire.  He has a mic in his right hand.  To his left stands "The
Invader" Brian Von Braun.  Von Braun is decked out in his wrestling
attire, his hair pulled back into a loose ponytail.  His silver,
skull-headed cane in his his right hand.  Megan stands behind both men.]

MS:  Two weeks ago, we watched as your run for the Longhorn Heritage
championship almost came to an end at the hands of Polemos, Brian. Had
it not been for Robert Donovan pulling you from the fire TWICE, you
wouldn't be here tonight.

[BVB shrugs slightly.]

BVB:  Whaddya want me ta say, Mark?

MS:  Are you and Robert Donovan teaming up to take on the Unholy
Alliance?

BVB:  Look.  I owe Donovan a debt of gratitude fer stickin' his nose in
an' savin' me... an' more than likely savin' my career.  I didn't ask
fer 'im ta watch my back.  Ta be honest?  I wasn't expectin' it either. 
Ta answer yer question, I don't know.  I ain't talked ta him Ya wanna
know his motivation?  Ask 'im yerself.

MS:  What about tonight?  What if Polemos or Layton... or even Monosso
show up and get involved tonight, Brian?

BVB:  Well... I gotta hope Donovan or someone else shows up.  Tha Rocket
City Badboy don't expect that ta happen.  I've made a lotta people
'round these parts not like me.  Ya know what, Mark?  I'm willin' ta pay
those consequences now knowin' full well I'm takin' on a cohesive team
all by my lonesome.

[There's a pause.  BVB can't help but shake his head.]

BVB:  An' I know tha score, Mark.  I know how all of this could end up. 
Me sittin' on tha sidelines while all of 'em gloat 'bout what they done
ta me.  I've thought 'bout that tha las' two weeks, Mark.  Long an'
hard.

[BVB looks over at the camera.]

BVB:  Don't think ya scare me, Percy.  Don't think Neshou scares me. 
Don't think knowin' what tha outcome could be tonight scares me.  I
ain't afraid of any of tha Unholy Alliance.  We both know I've got as
many skeletons in my closet as tha lot of ya.  Ya also know I'm the
furthest thing from a saint since Lucifer hisself.

[Another pause.]

BVB:  I want ya ta feel what I felt, Percy.  I want ya ta feel that
bitterness an' spite boil up as I take tha belt tonight.  I want ya ta
watch helpless as I raise it above my head an' there ain't a thing ya
can do 'bout it.  Tha last few weeks have led up ta tonight an' they
ain't be filled with nothin' but words.  I'm through talkin'.

[BVB walks out of view with Megan.]

MS:  Um... I think Brian Von Braun's headed for the ring!  Let's go down
to Phil Watson for our Longhorn Heritage Title match!

[We crossfade back to the ringside area where Phil Watson is standing.]

PW:  The following contest is scheduled for one fall with a ten minute
time limit and it is for the AWA Longhorn Heritage Title!

[Big cheer!]

PW:  Introducing first... 

[The lights dim and a light mist rolls out from the entryway as
"Raijin's Drums by George Sakalis begins to play over the PA System. 
After a moment, the mysterious Nenshou appears, wearing a long black
robe with the hood pulled down over his painted face.  Pausing at the
entrance, he begins to walk smoothly and unhurriedly down towards the
ring, his steely gaze locked on the squared circle.  Behind him comes
his manager Percy Childes... overweight and sweating, the piece of filth
is as loud as his charge is silent, jawing at fans and threating to
brain them with his crystal orb topped cane.]

PW:  From the Land of the Rising Sun... weighing in at 205 pounds.  He
is accompanied to the ring by his manager Percy Childes and represents
the Unholy Alliance.  He is the defending AWA Longhorn Heritage
Champion...

NENNNNNNSHOUUUUUU!

[Nenshou and Childes reach the ring, Nenshou hopping gracefully through
the ropes into the ring.  He jerks the cloth hood back, dropping to a
knee as a grinning Childes points at his champion.]

PW:  And his opponent... he is the challenger...

["Ain't No Rest for the Wicked" by Cage the Elephant starts up.  More
cheers come from the crowd than previously.]

PW:  From Huntsville, Alabama and weighing in at two-hundred and fifteen
pounds.  He is accompanied to the ring by Megan.  Here is...

"THE INVADER" BRIAN VON BRAUN!

[Brian Von Braun appears from the entrance portal as the ring announer
finishes saying his name and looks puzzled by the cheers.  BVB stops at
the beginning of the aisle, scanning the audience.  Megan appears behind
him.]

GM:  And listen to this response for Brian Von Braun!  These fans have
really gotten behind him in his battles with the Unholy Alliance!

BW:  It just goes to show what idiots the fans are.

GM:  Huh?

BW:  They hated this guy for months when he ran with the Southern
Syndicate and when he was trying to end Ron Houston's career.  Now that
he's doing the same stuff - just pointed at someone they dislike, they
cheer him.  I don't get it.

[BVB starts down the aisle with Megan in tow.  The two get to the ring,
BVB hops off the ramp and down to the ringside area.  A fan says
something to Von Braun, who stops and stares at the fan.  BVB looks at
the surrounding fans who cheer, more puzzled than anything else.]

GM:  And I don't think you're the only one who can't figure out this
situation with the fans.  Brian Von Braun seems quite puzzled by the
whole thing.  He doesn't understand why he's being cheered either.

[Megan claps her hands, still standing on the ramp.  Seeing that, Percy
Childes shouts instructions to Nenshou who moves quickly to where Megan
is standing near the ropes.]

GM:  Wait a second!  What is he doing?!

[Grabbing Megan by the hair, Nenshou pulls her face within point blank
range...

...and SPEWS the green mist right in her face!]

GM:  OHHHHH!

[The crowd reaction is like someone just got hit with a sledge hammer,
gasping as Nenshou lets go of her hair and she collapses onto the ramp.]

GM:  That son of a- why did he do that?!  What did she do to him?!

BW:  She was an obstacle to be overcome!

[Megan is rolling back and forth on the ramp, screaming in pain, rubbing
her eyes, trying to get the green mist out.]

GM:  Megan's in a tremendous amount of pain!  We've seen in the past
what that mist can do.  We've seen-

[The screams of Megan get Von Braun's attention who quickly turns,
dropping his cane as he rushes over to the ramp, pulling himself back up
onto it.  He leans over Megan, asking her if she's okay...

...and then frantically signalling towards the backstage area.]

GM:  Von Braun's calling for help!  We need medical help out here right
now for Megan!

[The AWA medical team comes pouring out of the locker room, rushing down
the entrance ramp towards the ring.  The first person who reaches her,
leans down to try to help her up...

...and gets shoved down to the ramp by Von Braun who is frantic.  A few
more medical team members arrive, Von Braun shouting at them to "do
something!"  The medical staff appears confused as to what to do as
Megan covers her face with her arms, kicking her legs frantically.]

GM:  Come on!  I agree with Von Braun, do something, people!

[Having seen enough, Von Braun picks Megan up in his arms, rushing back
up the ramp towards the locker room.]

GM:  Von Braun is carrying Megan out of here!  

BW:  He's making a run for it!  He knew he couldn't take on Nenshou here
tonight and beat him so he was looking for a way out!  He was looking
for an excuse!

GM:  Percy Childes is... wait a second...

[The referee looks down the ramp, shouting at Von Braun who completely
ignores him.  The official shrugs, moving reluctantly to Nenshou's
side...

...and lifts his hand, the crowd jeering.]

GM:  Did they just declare Nenshou the winner?!

BW:  Von Braun walked out!  It's a forfeit, Gordo!

GM:  He had to take care of Megan!  That shouldn't- it should be a no
contest or something!

BW:  Nenshou beat him!  Nenshou beat one of his top challengers!

[The Asian Assassin stands alone in the ring, remnants of the green mist
still dripping from his mouth.  Childes enters the ring, lifting his
champion's arm as well.]

GM:  Nenshou has been declared the winner and quite frankly, fans, I do
not agree with that decision at all.  But it's been made and it looks
like this match is off here tonight.

BW:  Off?  We have a winner!  How can it be off?

GM:  Give me a break, Bucky.  Fans, we're going to take another quick
break and we'll be right back with more tag team action!

[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 come up backstage at the AWA backdrop position, the dutiful
interviewer Jason Dane stands alone for the moment.]

JD:  Welcome back, fans.  It's been a wild night so far here on The Main
Event and now, we have...

[Dane's voice trails off as a hair-covered hand slowly starts stroking
his shoulder.  As the camera zooms back, we discover it's Mange of the
Moonshiners.]

Mange:  Hush, pretty.  It occurs to me that if you think what you've
seen is wild so far - you just don't know 'rasslin' the way ya think ya
do.  Because if ya did, you'd know that things don't get wild 'til the
'Shiners show up.

[Jug and Zeke burst on the scene, promptly shoving the cameraman aside
before joining Dane and Mange.]

Mange:  Jason, do you know what my boys like better than beating people
up?

[Dane shakes his head.]

Mange:  Nothin'.  

[Jug leans in.]

Jug:  But we do got a fond spot for beatin' up purdy people!

[Mange grins.]

Mange:  That's right.  Purdy people like Eric Preston... purdy, young
people.  We've been told for decades that we're too old to keep goin' in
this business.  That we're too old to compete.  We say there's no age
restriction to kick someone's teeth down their stinkin' throats.

[All three Moonshiners chuckle at that.]

Mange:  Eric Preston, you call us out?  Us?

[Mange shakes his head.]

Mange:  Boy, you ain't got a lick'a sense in that pretty lil' head of
yours.

Zeke:  Maybe he does!

[Mange considers that.]

Mange:  How 'bout we go out there and see if we can kick him in the head
enough times to find out exactly what's in that melon on his shoulders? 
See you soon, pretty.

[Mange again strokes Dane's shoulder before the three Moonshiners march
out of view.]

JD:  For his sake, I hope Eric Preston's got one heck of a partner in
store for those gentlemen.  Phil Watson, she's all yours!

[We crossfade back to the ring where Phil Watson is standing.]

PW:  The following tag team contest is scheduled for one fall with a
fifteen minute time limit.  Introducing first... now headed down the
aisle...

[The stereotypical redneck banjo picking is heard over the PA.]

PW:  From Bald Knob, Arkansas.. at a combined weight of 515 pounds and
accompanied to the ring by Mange... Jug and Zeke...

THE MOOOOOONSHINERS!

[The wild brawling duo makes their way to the ring, stepping through the
ropes and turning back to face the entranceway.]

PW  And their opponents... first, from Greenville, South Carolina...
weighing 248 pounds... 

ERIC PREEESSTTOOOOOOONNNN!!

[The fans let out a cheer as "Show Me How To Live" by Audioslave blares
in the Crockett Coliseum, and Eric Preston trots through the the
curtains. Preston holds his hands up to acknowledge the crowd.  The
chiseled Preston is in his customary purple tights with the orange and
white waistband, and white boots with orange and purple stripes around
the top.  He pauses at the entryway, looking a bit concerned as he
stands to the side.]

GM:  Does Preston even have a partner?

BW:  There's no one out here with him and from the look on his face, I'd
say he looks real concern-

[Watson interrupts.]

PW:  And his tag team partner...

[The crowd buzzes with anticipation but Watson simply shrugs his
shoulders.]

GM:  Who is it?

["Stop & Panic" by Cirrus starts up over the Crockett Coliseum's PA
system.  A ripple of recognition runs over the crowd, some of the more
knowledgable fans coming to their feet.  Eric Preston stands, hands on
hips, looking at the entryway...

...and then crowd ERUPTS as the mystery partner walks into view.  The
masked man points at all sides of the crowd, telling them to get up and
make some noise, which they gladly do.]

GM:  IT'S MACHT KRAFTWERK!

[Indeed it is.  The energetic cruiserweight rushes to shake the hand of
a surprised Eric Preston who looks a little concerned.  Kraftwerk wears
a pair of wrestling tights, green with black on the waistband and a gold
line running down each leg.  He runs a hand over his black mask that has
green trim around the holes for his eyes, mouth, and nose.  A gold band
runs across the top of the mask that cuts off at the brow, revealing his
bald head for one and all to see.]

GM:  What a surprise this is, Bucky!

BW:  To Preston too, it looks like.  He looks as shocked as any of us.

GM:  How could that be?  How could Eric Preston not know who his partner
would be?

[Kraftwerk nudges Preston, pointing towards the waiting Moonshiners...

...and together they break into a sprint, dashing down the length of the
ramp towards the ring.]

GM:  HERE THEY COME!

[And they both take flight, a stereo dive over the top rope to land on
both Moonshiners, completely wiping them out as the referee waves for
the bell to start the match!]

GM:  A HUUUUUUGE DOUBLE DIVE TO START THIS ONE OFF, BUCKY!!

BW:  A cheap shot before the bell, you mean?

GM:  Whatever you want to call it!

[Preston stays in the mount, battering Jug with right hands to the skull
as Macht pulls up, snapping off a pair of boots to the ribcage of Zeke
that forces him to roll under the ropes to the floor.  Grabbing the top
rope, Kraftwerk slingshots over the top rope onto Zeke!]

GM:  CAUGHT!  ZEKE CAUGHT HIM!!

[Zeke turns around with him, showing him off to the crowd as Preston
gets to his feet inside the ring, dashing towards the ropes...

...and leaps between the bottom and middle rope with a dropkick to the
back of Kraftwerk, toppling Zeke over to the floor!]

GM:  Oh yeah!  Eric Preston already saving his partner!  He's not about
to see a replay of what happened to Kendall Stanton two weeks ago when
the Moonshiners put Stanton into the steel ringpost and concussed the
man!

[With Preston distracted, Jug brings the heavy artillery, landing a
double axehandle to the back of the neck that knocks Preston down to a
knee.  A hard boot to the face connects, knocking Preston down to the
mat where he rolls out under the apron.]

GM:  Preston got distracted helping his partner and now he's paying the
price for it!

[Jug reaches over the ropes, pulling Preston up by the hair.  He ducks
down, scooping Preston up...

...and slams him down hard to the mat!]

GM:  Jug brings Preston in the hard way!

[Jug delivers a big kick to the ribs of Preston, rolling him onto his
stomach as he stands over him...

...and then drops a big elbow on the back of the head, flipping him to
his back to apply a cover.]

GM:  One!  Two!

[But a diving Macht Kraftwerk breaks up the pin attempt, coming from
outside the ring where he's got Zeke flat out on the floor.]

GM:  Macht makes the save!  I think Preston could have gotten out of
that but it's good that he knows he can count on Macht Kraftwerk to be
there for him at this point in time.

[Kraftwerk hauls Jug up to his feet, throwing a left hand to the jaw, a
hooking right hand to the midsection, and then scores a headbutt that
sends Jug stumbling back into the buckles.  Grabbing an arm, Kraftwerk
goes to whip him across the ring but Jug easily reverses it on the much
smaller man...]

GM:  Here comes Jug!

[As Jug comes charging in, Kraftwerk front rolls out of the corner,
causing Jug to slam chestfirst into the buckles.  A fired-up Macht
approaches Jug from behind, wrapping his arms around the larger man's
waist.]

GM:  My stars!  Kraftwerk's going for a waistlock suplex!

BW:  A German suplex in his case!

GM:  You're absolutely right about that but I don't think he can get him
up, do you?

BW:  No way, Gordo, no way.

[Kraftwerk struggles and strains, looking to take Jug over...

...but a well-placed elbow catches Kraftwerk on the temple, knocking the
German down to his knees.  Jug spins around and delivers a jaw-rattling
boot to the face that knocks Kraftwerk flat as Zeke rolls back into the
ring to join his partner.]

GM:  In comes Zeke... and we've got both Moonshiners-

[But before the brawlers can put the double team to the much smaller
Kraftwerk, Preston races in and connects with a right hand to one
'Shiner... then one to the other!]

GM:  Eric Preston's taking on both Moonshiners!  Right hand!  Right
hand!  Right hand!  He's rockin' them both!

[Stepping back, Preston grabs a handful of hair on both Moonshiners...

...and SMASHES their skulls together to a huge cheer from the crowd!]

GM:  Oh yeah!  Preston with the double noggin knocker!  He takes both
members of the Moonshiners off their feet with that one!

[With Kraftwerk shaking off the effects of the big boot, he joins
Preston in picking Jug up off the mat, firing him across the ring with a
double whip...

...and hoisting him high overhead, tossing him down with a double
backdrop!]

GM:  Big double backdrop by Kraftwerk and Preston!

[And as Zeke gets to his feet...]

GM:  Double dropkick!  

[The crowd roars as the blow sends Zeke through the ropes, toppling down
to the floor at ringside.  Kraftwerk nudges Preston, saying something in
broken English to him.  A confused Preston nods...

...and hoists Kraftwerk overhead in a gorilla press!]

GM:  What the-?!

[Preston waits a moment...

...and then hurls him through the air, sending Kraftwerk down in a
flying headbutt on the stunned Jug!]

GM:  OHHHHHHH!  WHAT A MOVE!!!

[Kraftwerk applies a press, hooking the leg as Preston keeps an eye out
on Zeke who starts to get up...

...and gets wiped out by Preston slingshotting over the ropes onto him!]

GM:  PRESTON WIPES OUT ZEKE!!  The two fan favorites are all over these
guys!  I think the Moonshiners might be feeling a little outgunned at
this point in the matchup.  Some absolutely explosive offense on display
by Preston and Kraftwerk!

[Kraftwerk yanks Jug up by his wild hair, shoving him back into the
corner.  Grabbing the top rope, Kraftwerk lays in two big snapping
roundhouse kicks into the ribcage of his opponent, and then hooks a side
headlock.]

GM:  He's going for the bulldog!

[The masked German charges out of the corner, looking to plant Jug
facefirst into the mat...

...but the powerful Moonshiner simply hurls him through the air, sending
him crashing down in a heap on the mat.]

GM:  Ohh!  Big counter for Jug right there!  If Kraftwerk had hit the
bulldog, this match might be over.

[Jug immediately drops to his knees, wrapping his hands around the
throat of the downed Kraftwerk.  In the background, we see Zeke and
Preston taking their respective corners as the crowd tries to rally the
German cruiserweight.]

GM:  Jug is strangling the air out of Kraftwerk, choking the life out of
him...

[Jug slowly gets to his feet, pulling the German up by the mask,
throwing him back into the Moonshiners' corner where Zeke tags in,
helping his partner deliver a series of big boots to the torso to the
jeers of the crowd.]

GM:  There is absolutely nothing fancy about the Moonshiners.  Not at
all.

[Zeke pulls Kraftwerk from the corner, leaning down to scoop him up, and
to thunderously slam him down to the mat, dropping into a lateral press
which gets a two count before the German slips a shoulder up.]

GM:  Just a two count there.

[Zeke slaps the outstretched hand of Jug again who comes in, both men
standing above Kraftwerk...

...and they drop down in unison, smashing two elbows down into the chest
of the masked man!]

GM:  BIG double elbowdrop!

[Jug rolls into a press of his own, earning another two count before
Kraftwerk slips a shoulder free.]

GM:  Another two count there.  Kraftwerk's showing his resilience here
tonight in Dallas.  The German needs to get out of there though.  He's
taking a pounding and he needs to make a tag out to Eric Preston.

[Preston shouts at Kraftwerk from across the ring but the German falls
victim to a barrage of heavy stomps from Jug, keeping the masked man
down on the mat.  Reaching up, Jug slaps the hand of Zeke who comes in,
helping to pull the German up...]

GM:  Double whip...

[But the quick masked man ducks under a double clothesline attempt,
bouncing off the far ropes...

...and leaving his feet with a split-legged dropkick that catches each
Moonshiner right on the button!]

GM:  OH YEAH!

[The crowd roars as Kraftwerk rolls to his stomach, crawling across the
ring towards the corner...

...and makes a lunging tag to Eric Preston to a roar from the crowd!]

GM:  In comes Preston!

[A right hand catches Zeke on the jaw, knocking him back a step.  A
haymaker to Jug does the same thing, putting him on the backpedal. 
Grabbing Jug's arm, Preston whips him into Zeke, a move that sends Zeke
falling through the ropes to the floor.]

GM:  Preston's on fire!  He clears out Zeke!

[Grabbing Jug, Preston hooks a front facelock, reaching back to hook a
leg as well.]

GM:  He's going for the Greenville Thunder!  If he hits this-

BW:  Mange is on the apron!

GM:  He certainly is and the official is trying to get him-

[The crowd EXPLODES as Macht Kraftwerk slides around the ringpost and
DRILLS Mange with a superkick on the chin that knocks the manager down
to the floor.  The referee reprimands him as Preston goes for the
fishermanbuster, hoisting Jug into the air...

...and DUMPING him down on his head!  Big cheer!]

GM:  He hit it!  He hit it!  Preston with the cover!  ONE!!  TWO!! 
THRE- WHOA!

[The crowd jeers wildly as the referee gets pulled from the ring by
Zeke...

...and then EATS a right hand by Zeke, knocking the official flat!]

GM:  Zeke floors the ref!  What the-?!


"DING!  DING!  DING!"


GM:  This one's over!  For some reason, Zeke just coldcocked the
referee!  The Moonshiners are gonna be disqualified for this!

BW:  And I hate to say it but it looked like Eric Preston had the
Moonshiners beat right there.  I think Zeke just tried to stop Preston
from scoring that pinfall - that's all there is to it.

GM:  I think you're right... and now Zeke pulls his man out of the ring
as well, pulling his partner to safety... the Moonshiners are out of
here!  Eric Preston and Macht Kraftwerk are your winners by
disqualification but you know that's not how they wanted to win this
thing!

[Eric Preston looks frustrated as he watches the Moonshiners retreat. 
Macht Kraftwerk enters the ring, patting Preston on the shoulder.  The
two fan favorites shake hands to a big reaction from the crowd 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:  You know, Mark... the AWA Access iPhone app has been so popular
over the past year, I hear we're making a sequel!

MS:  Jason, that kind of news is so hot, it should be on the app!

[The two men laugh very awkwardly as a giant iPhone appears.]

JD:  Hello, Mr. iPhone.

[The iPhone speaks.  Yes.  Yes it does.]

iPhone:  Hello, Jason Dane.  Did you know that former AWA National
Champion Kolya Sudakov was a former Mixed Martial Artist?

JD:  Well, actually I did.

iPhone:  Mark Stegglet, did you know that Calisto Dufresne was the first
and only champion in Pro Wrestling Revolution?

MS(in his best Johnny Carson impression):  I did not know that!

[Thankfully, a voiceover starts.]

VO:  Starting today, you can download AWA Access Version 2.0!  This new
app contains a brand new TRIVIA mode where you can get all the details
on your favorite AWA superstars!  Plus, be the first to see our brand
new BEFORE THE AWA section where you can find matches from the best of
the AWA - before they were AWA!

AWA Access Version 2.0 - coming to an iPhone near you!

[Fade back to black...

And we fade back up to live action where we find a jam-packed ring
filled with 24 different competitors, all glaring at one another with
one lonely referee standing in the middle, shouting at people to stay
away from one another.]

GM:  Welcome back, fans!  And we've got 24 of the best wrestlers in the
world standing inside the ring and they're all waiting to battle it out
for the prized #30 slot in the annual Memorial Day Rumble!

BW:  The #30 slot means so much going into an event like that so of
course, they're out in full force to try and get that slot.

GM:  Michael Meekly, the AWA's Senior Official, is trying to get out of
there... get out to the floor...


"DING!  DING!  DING!"


GM:  And here we go!

[As the bell rings, all hell breaks loose as 24 men snap into a wild
brawl.  The crowd roars for the start of what is always a crowd favorite
event - the Battle Royal.  But the action is so heavy, our cameras and
announcers have a hard time distinguishing what is going on.]

GM:  Twenty-four men battling it out for the win in this one.  This is
such a dangerous environment to be in, Bucky.

BW:  It sure is.  All those arms and legs flying around.  Someone could
get caught in the eye, the throat, the back of the knee.  Who knows? 
This is a VERY dangerous match.

GM:  And completely different from what we'll see some of them competing
in in about two months' time.  The Rumble is a completely different
beast.

BW:  That's right.  The Rumble is about stamina and a little bit of
luck.  A match like this isn't stamina.  You can outlast everyone in
this.  You can only hope to survive.

[The crowd cheers as SWLL luchador Super Solar goes tumbling over the
ropes courtesy of a headbutt from Ebola Zaire that earns the first
elimination of the match.]

GM:  Whoa!  And just like that, Super Solar goes over the top to the
floor!  Ebola Zaire scored with a headbutt and it sent Solar tumbling to
the floor for the first elimination of the match.  We are down to
twenty-three men battling for the win in this one and that
oh-so-important #30 slot.

[One man who easily stands out in the ring is the seven footer, Robert
Donovan, who is dishing out a haymaker to anyone who gets close to him.]

GM:  You can see Robert Donovan really taking the offense to the other
men in this match.

BW:  Donovan has to be careful in there.  It's standard Battle Royal
strategy to try and team up to take out the larger men inside the ring. 
If Donovan draws too much attention to himself, that's exactly what
we'll see happen.

[A quick cut to a corner of the ring shows Sweet Daddy Williams trapped
inside a side headlock by "Playboy" Johnny Casanova who is hammering the
Atlanta fan favorite with clenched fists to the face over and again.]

GM:  Casanova working over Sweet Daddy.  That's an interesting one.  I'd
like to see those two men square off in one-on-one action as well,
Bucky.

BW:  As long as they've both been in the sport, I'd imagine they've met
before, Gordo.

[We cut again, revealing the face-painted Corax who is hammering
Vladimir Velikov with a series of right hands in the corner...

...only to be felled with a double axehandle to the back of the neck
from Kolya Sudakov.  Sudakov and Velikov work together, stomping and
kicking the fallen Corax.]

GM:  Old scores trying to be settled, new issues being developed. 
They're all part of the chaos that makes up a Battle Royal.

BW:  Look at Johnny Sone!

[A quick cut shows the third-generation superstar trying to up-end
Sultan Azam Sharif over the ropes.  Sharif looks puzzled by the
environment he's in, flailing away to try and battle free.]

GM:  Sharif is in trouble!

BW:  This isn't fair to Sultan Azam Sharif at all, Gordo!  He's not
trained for this kind of a match.  This isn't what his training was all
about.  He's trained for one-on-one - singles combat!

GM:  Well, he'd better figure it out in a hurry because Johnny Sone's
got him halfway over those ropes!

[From the floor, Count Adrian Bathwaite is shouting instructions to his
man...

...who gets a timely assist from "All Pro" Andrew Stevens who buries a
punt-style kick into the ribcage of Sone.]

GM:  Ohh!  Andrew Stevens just helped out Sharif... and now it's Stevens
and Sharif both working over Johnny Sone.  They've got him against the
ropes, hammering away on him...

[The crowd roars as Travis Lynch wades through the mass of humanity in
the ring, taking aim on the two men battering Johnny Sone...

...and does a full 360 spin, catching a surprised Andrew Stevens on the
jaw, a blow that sends him sailing over the ropes to the floor!]

GM:  Stevens is gone!  Andrew Stevens is eliminated!  Texas hero Travis
Lynch scores a big elimination there and these fans are lovin' that!

[The chants of "LYNCH!  LYNCH!  LYNCH!" get a grin from Travis before
Anton Layton pastes him with a double axehandle to the back of the neck,
knocking Lynch down to his knees.  Layton drapes Lynch's throat over the
middle rope, choking the air out of him to the jeers of the crowd.]

GM:  The Prince of Darkness turns his focus onto Travis Lynch - and
don't forget that Polemos, the God of War, is out here at ringside to...
 what's his purpose, Bucky?

BW:  Moral support?

GM:  Give me a break.

[A big cheer goes up as Kolya Sudakov hoists El Caliente into the air,
dumping him over the ropes to the floor with a bodyslam.]

GM:  Ohh!  Sudakov sends out Caliente!

BW:  These luchadors aren't faring too well, Gordo.

GM:  They certainly aren't.  And you mentioned that Sharif isn't used to
this kind of match.  From my understanding, Battle Royals aren't very
common in the world of lucha libre either.  That might explain some of
the issues they're having.

[To a big cheer, Kenta Kitzukawa throws Bruno Dawson back into the
corner, battering the Bull with heavy chops across the chest...

...but then Dawson swings the Tiger Paw Pro competitor back into the
buckles, returning the favor with big chops of his own that rally the
crowd behind the AWA newcomer!]

GM:  Look at the showdown between Bruno Dawson and Kenta Kitzukawa in
the corner!  They're working each other over hard!

[A quick cut shows Engel Ubelmacht cornering Hikarimono, battering him
with back elbows against the ropes.  The Matsui Corporation
representative ducks down, grabbing the Shooting Star by the leg, and
trying to toss him over the ropes to the floor.]

BW:  Ubelmacht, the original high roller, has got a leg of Hikarimono,
trying to toss him out.  Can he get him over?

GM:  Ubelmacht, the one-man Luftwaffe, is on the ground now - like you
said, working over Hikarimono...

[With Hikarimono in trouble, Kitzukawa pulls away from Dawson to deliver
a big forearm across the back of Ubelmacht, breaking up his efforts to
eliminate his fellow Tiger Paw Pro partner.

Nearby, the camera catches James Lynch battling with fellow PCW star
Ebola Zaire, trading big punches.  The crowd roars at the sight of James
Lynch mounting the second rope, battering the bloodthirsty Zaire with
heavy right hands to the skull!]

GM:  Look at James Lynch!  The Lynch boys are living up to their hype
right now as James Lynch isn't backing down an inch from one of the most
savage animals in professional wrestling!

[Across the ring, Velikov and Sudakov have Tommy Fierro trapped in the
corner, battering him with rights and lefts to the torso.  The crowd
roars as Tyler Lee rushes in, yanking Velikov around by the arm and
hammering him with a right hand!]

GM:  Tyler Lee, the Louisville Slugger, coming to the rescue of former
World Champion Tommy Fierro... and here comes Fierro!

[The crowd roars as Fierro makes a comeback, battering Sudakov with
right hands over and over and over to the skull...

...and as the camera rapidly pans, we see Hikarimono dive off the top
rope!]

GM:  OFF THE TOP!!

[A big cheer goes up as Robert Donovan catches Hikarimono as he dives
off the top, grabbing him in bodyslam position...

...and then powers him up in a gorilla press!]

GM:  Whoa!  Whoa!

[Donovan approaches the ropes, tossing Hikarimono over the ropes to the
floor!]

GM:  DONOVAN TOSSES HIKARIMONO!!  He's gone as well!

BW:  We're down to twenty!  Twenty men remaining in this Battle Royal!

[As Donovan turns around, he comes face to face with Sultan Azam Sharif
who slaps himself in the chest...

...and then SLAMS a forearm into the chest of Robert Donovan!]

GM:  Big shot!

[But Donovan ain't having it, shaking his head at the Sultan.]

GM:  Donovan didn't even feel it!

[Sharif winds up again...

...but Donovan blocks the shot, throwing a haymaker of his own to knock
Sharif down on his rear!  Huge cheer!]

GM:  Donovan knocks him flat and-

[Spinning around, Donovan hooks his hand around the throat of an
incoming Anton Layton!]

GM:  Donovan's got Layton by the throat!  He's got-

[Engel Ubelmacht takes advantage of Donovan's distraction to crack him
in the jaw with an elbowsmash.  Helping Layton up, Ubelmacht and Layton
batter Donovan back into the ropes...

...and then both duck down, each grabbing a leg to try and flip Donovan
over the ropes to the floor!]

GM:  Layton and Ubelmacht are trying to take out the big man!

[Out of nowhere, Corax arrives and tries to assist, working his way
under Donovan's back to push the big man higher into the air as Donovan
tries to battle free, throwing forearms and punches at Layton and
Ubelmacht.]

GM:  Donovan's in trouble!

BW:  He's in big trouble, Gordo!  We've got three men trying to get him
over the top rope to the floor!  They're going for the big fish, trying
to take out the biggest man in the match...

[But it's Sweet Daddy Williams to the rescue, dishing out haymakers to
Ubelmacht and Layton first, breaking their grip and allowing Donovan to
slump back down to his feet on the mat...

...where he floors a nearby Corax with a headbutt!]

GM:  Whoa!  So close there!  Donovan nearly got eliminated if it wasn't
for the aid of Sweet Daddy Williams here in this one.  Still twenty men
remaining in this match and-

[The crowd roars as Jack Lynch hooks the Iron Claw on the scarred skull
of Ebola Zaire as James Lynch mounts a nearby midbuckle, hammering Bruno
Dawson with right hands to the skull!]

GM:  Zaire's in trouble!  The Claw is locked in and-

[Breaking the clawhold from behind is a hammering forearm to the neck
from Vladimir Velikov.  Velikov spins Jack Lynch around, burying a boot
into the midsection.  He waves his nephew over and Sudakov joins in,
kicking Lynch in the ribs against the turnbuckles.]

GM:  The Russians are working over Jack Lynch and-

[The crowd roars as James Lynch flips back off the middle rope, catching
Velikov with a forearm to the massive skull.]

GM:  The Lynch boys and the Russians are squaring off in the corner!

[With Ubelmacht dazed, El Corazon Negro leaps up, hooking a headscissors
as he pulls them both over the ropes...

...but Ubelmacht hangs on, staying on the apron as the owner of
SouthWest Lucha Libre drops down to the floor!]

GM:  Ohh!  ECN is gone!  The veteran Hardcore Luchador just got
eliminated by Ubelmacht!

[Ubelmacht points to his head out on the apron...

...and gets yanked over the ropes by Johnny Sone!]

BW:  What an idiot!  Sone should have knocked him to the floor!  He
would have been eliminated from the Battle Royal!

[Across the ring, we spot Kenta Kitzukawa hammering Robert Donovan with
heavy chops across the chest...

...and he gets spun around by Bruno Dawson who scores with an elbowsmash
to the jaw before leaping up to smash his knee into the Japanese
heavy-hitter's face!]

GM:  Kitzukawa just got rocked!  He's dazed!

[And a rushing Supernova sends Kitzukawa sailing over the ropes to the
floor with a clothesline!  Big cheer!]

GM:  SUPERNOVA ELIMINATES KITZUKAWA!!

[Bruno Dawson looks annoyed at Supernova, promptly throwing him into the
ropes and hammering him with stiff jabs to the jaw...

...which Supernova eventually fires back on, throwing backhand blows to
the face that sends Dawson stumbling back to the middle of the ring
where Tommy Fierro knocks him flat with a big haymaker!]

GM:  Fierro floors Dawson!  We've got a heck of a fight on our hands
here tonight!  This is an extremely competitive Battle Royal, Bucky!

BW:  And some top flight guys are still left inside the ring!

[With a shout, Fierro hops up on the middle rope in the corner,
hammering the stunned Vladimir Velikov with right hands to the skull...

...which leaves him exposed as Kolya Sudakov responds to a shout from
Ivan Kostovich, shoving Fierro over the ropes and down to the floor!]

GM:  And Tommy Fierro's gone!  Kolya Sudakov just saved his Uncle and
eliminated Tommy Fierro!

BW:  We're down to seventeen men in the ring by my count.

[In another corner, we spot Anton Layton pressing his boot into the
throat of Travis Lynch, choking the Texas fan favorite...

...but a heavy forearm from Robert Donovan breaks up the strangle. 
Donovan spins Layton around, hammering him back against the ropes with
right hands!]

GM:  Donovan's got Layton reeling and-

BW:  OHH!  CORAX IS GONE!

[The crowd jeers Sultan Azam Sharif who successfully tossed a distracted
Corax over the top rope to the floor while he was trying to eliminate
Kolya Sudakov.  Sharif looks pleased with himself, striking a double
bicep pose to the boos of the fans...

...and gets spun around by Supernova who knocks him flat with a right
hand!]

GM:  Corax got eliminated by the Sultan!

[Outside the ring, Count Adrian Bathwaite takes a moment to taunt the
eliminated Corax before turning his focus back to the ring.  He huddles
up with Ivan Kostovich for a moment, watching as the Russians hammer
Johnny Sone against the ropes...

...and then send him sailing over the ropes with a double clothesline!]

GM:  The Russians eliminate Johnny Sone!  Holy mackeral!  The Russians
are on a tear!

[A quick camera cut finds Travis Lynch pushed back against the buckles,
Ebola Zaire throwing stiff-fingered thrust blows to the throat.  Seeing
his brother in trouble, James Lynch charges across the ring, leaping up
onto the back of Zaire to wrap him up in a sleeperhold!]

GM:  James Lynch is on the back of Zaire!  Zaire's trapped in the
sleeper and-

[Reaching back over his head, Zaire sticks a finger into the eye of
James Lynch, knocking him down to a knee.  Spinning around, Zaire buries
a big boot into the temple of Lynch, knocking him flat...

...and then leaps up, dropping all his weight down in an elbowdrop on
James Lynch!]

GM:  OHHH!  GOOD GRIEF!!

[Zaire gets to his feet, dragging James Lynch up...

...and hurls the fan favorite over the ropes to the jeers of the crowd!]

GM:  James Lynch is gone!  One of the legendary Lynch family has been
eliminated by Ebola Zaire who is a walking nightmare in there!  He's one
of the toughest men in our entire sport and-

[The crowd roars as Jack Lynch drills Zaire with a right hand, looking
for some payback for his younger brother who is standing stunned on the
floor.

Nearby, we see Johnny Casanova hammering Tyler Lee in the corner with
right hands as the vocal Big Mama screams encouragement from the floor.]

GM:  Casanova's doing some damage to the Louisville Slugger!  You know
he'd love to get that #30 slot in the Rumble and try to win a shot at
the National Title.  He had that good showing against the National
Champion just two weeks ago and I'm sure he'd love the chance to face
him again.

[Spinning Casanova around, Bruno Dawson drops him with a big chop across
the chest - dangerously close to the throat...

...and then Dawson continues on to Lee, hammering him with a back elbow
to the jaw.]

GM:  Bruno Dawson's making no allies in there tonight - going at it with
potential friend and foe alike.

BW:  And I kind of like that, Gordo.  It's every man for himself in
there so-

GM:  Tell that to the Russians.

[And almost on cue, the Russians send Engel Ubelmacht over the ropes...

...but Ubelmacht hangs on, tangling himself in the ropes to avoid
elimination and end up on the ring apron!]

GM:  Engel's on the apron!

[Leaping up to the top rope, Ubelmacht springs off, catching Travis
Lynch around the head, and snapping him over in a hurracanrana! 
Ubelmacht springs to his feet, dragging Lynch up to his feet, and trying
to throw him over the ropes but the larger Lynch grabs on to the top
rope, preventing the elimination.]

GM:  Ubelmacht almost had him there and-

[The crowd jeers as Ubelmacht throws a barrage of kneelifts into the
ribcage of Travis Lynch, forcing him down to a knee...

...and then spins around, smashing his foot into the face of Travis
Lynch and knocking him flat!]

GM:  Engel Ubelmacht is making an excellent showing for himself in this
one, Bucky.

BW:  Certainly is.  He's doing his home territory proud here tonight in
Dallas.

GM:  Ubelmacht pulls Travis Lynch up again, pushing him towards the
ropes, trying to get him over... 

[Joining Ubelmacht surprisingly is Tyler Lee who left Dawson down on the
mat with a series of haymakers, trying to help get Lynch over the ropes
to the floor...]

GM:  Tyler Lee and Engel Ubelmacht working together!

BW:  Battle Royals make for strange bedfellows, Gordo.

GM:  You're absolutely right about that.

[But the partnership is short-lived as Ubelmacht barks something at
Tyler Lee who responds with a right hand to the jaw, knocking him flat
to the cheers of the crowd...

...and then gets drilled from behind by Ebola Zaire who knocks him down
to a knee...

...and sinks his teeth into Lee's forehead!]

GM:  Ahhh!  The savage is digging his teeth in and-

[The crowd roars as Supernova throws a big right hand to break Zaire's
biting.  He throws a second... and a third... and a fourth, all
hammering Zaire back against the ropes.  He backs off, grabbing the
offered hand of Jack Lynch...

...and together they bowl forward, connecting with a double clothesline
that takes Ebola Zaire over the ropes to the floor!]

GM:  ZAIRE IS GONE!!  Supernova and Jack Lynch working together just
eliminated Ebola Zaire!

BW:  We're down to thirteen men in there!  An unlucky thirteen!

GM:  Some big, big names still in there - and one big, big man in Robert
Donovan!  The seven footer is still in there, still hammering away at
anyone who draws close to him!

[Proving Gordon's point, Donovan has Anton Layton trapped in the corner,
delivering punch after punch on target in the buckles...

...which gives Supernova a chance to charge across the ring, leaping
into the air!]

GM:  HEAT WAVE!!!

[The big leaping splash hits Donovan on the back, smashing Anton Layton
in the buckles as well.  Grabbing the offered hand of Tyler Lee, he
tries to repeat his success from a moment earlier...

...but as they run towards Donovan, the big man grabs Lee around the
throat while flooring Supernova with a big boot!]

GM:  Donovan's got Lee!  He's got Lee!

[And with a show of power, Donovan hoists Lee into the air by the
throat, simply tossing him over the ropes and down to the floor!]

GM:  Wow!  Robert Donovan just tossed Tyler Lee!  The Louisville Slugger
is gone!  The seven footer with an incredible display of pure power
right there just tossed Tyler Lee and we're down to twelve!

[Donovan reaches down, hauling Supernova up by the throat as well.  He
looks to do what he just did to Tyler Lee...

...and gets caught with a snapping roundhouse kick to the ribs by Kolya
Sudakov!]

GM:  Sudakov just saved Supernova!

[And Vladimir Velikov is hot about it, swinging his nephew around and
reading him the riot act.]

GM:  Velikov is screaming at Sudakov!  He's shouting at his own flesh
and blood!

[Trying to seize advantage of the situation, Bruno Dawson rushes
Velikov...

...but Sudakov pulls his Uncle out of the way, causing Dawson to go
sailing past where Sudakov and Velikov toss him over the ropes to the
floor!]

GM:  The Bull's gone!  The Russians just tossed out the Bull!

[And as they turn..

BIG CHEER!]

GM:  CHOKE!  DONOVAN'S GOT THEM BOTH BY THE THROAT!  HE'S GOT BOTH
RUSSIANS BY THE THROAT!

[Seeing his allies in trouble, Sultan Azam Sharif staggers across the
ring and buries a hooked boot into the midsection of Donovan, breaking
his grip on both Russians.  At a barked order from Bathwaite, Sharif,
Sudakov, and Velikov begin working in unison to batter Donovan down to
the mat.]

GM:  We've got a three on one!

[But suddenly, Donovan's not alone as Sweet Daddy Williams rushes into
the fray, pulling Sharif around and popping him with a right hand.  He
turns to Velikov, repeating the blow.  He grabs Sudakov as well,
throwing the haymaker!]

GM:  Sweet Daddy Williams is all over the foreign threat!

[The crowd is roaring as Williams continues to hammer all three men. 
Engel Ubelmacht charges the exposed back of Williams...

...who sidesteps and HURLS Ubelmacht over the ropes to the floor!  Big
cheer!]

GM:  The man from Hotlanta tosses out the man from Germany!  Williams
eliminates Ubelmacht and we're down to ten!  Ten men remaining, each
wanting desperately to land that #30 slot in the Memorial Day Rumble!

[Joining Williams in the battle against the foreign threat is Travis and
Jack Lynch, battering Vladimir Velikov and Kolya Sudakov with haymakers
against the ropes.  Each man grabs an arm, firing the Russians across
the ring...]

GM:  Double whip...

[And the two big Texans take flight with a pair of dropkicks that catch
the Russians squarely on the chest...

...and send them both sailing backwards, Velikov actually toppling over
the ropes and down to the floor!]

GM:  VELIKOV'S GONE!  VELIKOV'S GONE!

BW:  And that's a huge blow to Kostovich and Bathwaite!  The Russians
were working together incredibly well in there alongside Sharif.  

GM:  Don't forget that the Russians were one of the most successful
teams in AWA history during the early days of the promotion.  They
surely showed that here tonight as well.

[With Sudakov dazed, the two Lynch boys move in to work him over,
battering him with blows to the body and skull against the ropes...

...when Sultan Azam Sharif approaches, spinning Travis Lynch around, and
taking him over the ropes with a clothesline!]

GM:  Travis Lynch is gone!  He's eliminated as well!

BW:  Eight men left!  Sudakov, Sharif, Supernova, Sweet Daddy Williams,
Anton Layton, Johnny Casanova, Robert Donovan, and Jack Lynch!

[Jack Lynch doesn't take fondly to Sharif eliminating his brother as he
swings him back to the buckles, leaping up to the second rope where he
begins uncorking right hands aimed at the skull of the Sultan...

...and at a barked order from the floor, Sudakov surges forward and
shoves Jack Lynch to the floor as well!  The crowd EXPLODES in jeers at
the sight of the final Lynch brother in the match being eliminated!]

GM:  Sudakov tosses Jack Lynch!  We're down to seven!

[With the ring clearing out, alliances start to form.  A temporary break
in the action ends up with Sudakov and Sharif standing in one corner. 
Across the ring stands Sweet Daddy Williams and Robert Donovan.  Johnny
Casanova and Anton Layton are huddled up in a third.  And in one corner,
all alone stands Supernova.]

GM:  All of Supernova's allies are gone.  You would think he might be
able to work with Donovan and the Sweet Daddy but perhaps Donovan
doesn't trust him after Supernova tried to eliminate him earlier in this
match.

[The crowd buzzes with anticipation at the alliances being formed...

...and then erupts as Supernova just charges Sudakov and Sharif, fists
flying as he rocks both men!  Anton Layton seizes the distraction to
rush Sweet Daddy Williams as Johnny Casanova tries to stay out of all of
it, watching Robert Donovan hammer the exposed back of the Prince of
Darkness.]

GM:  The final seven are working one another over and- 

[Williams and Donovan fire Layton across the ring together...

...and knock him flat with a running double clothesline!]

GM:  Oh yeah!

[And then suddenly Williams turns and points right at Johnny Casanova
who was cowering in the corner, trying to avoid the action.  Williams
rushes the buckles, hammering Casanova with right hands...

...when suddenly Big Mama reaches under the ropes, grabbing Williams
around the ankle!]

GM:  Big Mama's got the ankle!  She's got the-

[Using the momentary distraction, Casanova sticks a thumb into Williams'
eye, stunning him...

...and then ducks down, grabbing Williams under the legs, and
essentially backdrops Williams over the ropes to the floor!]

GM:  Williams is gone!  Casanova eliminates Sweet Daddy Williams!

BW:  That's more like it!  The Playboy with a big elimination to toss
the hero of these idiot fans!

GM:  The crowd is disappointed.  They wanted to see the Sweet Daddy go
the distance.  We're down to six though now.

[In one corner, we find Sharif burying boots into the ribs of Supernova
as a nearby Kolya Sudakov conveniently finds something else to do,
battering Johnny Casanova with right hands.  On the far side of the
ring, Robert Donovan grabs Anton Layton by the throat!]

GM:  Donovan's got Layton!  He's gonna send him out!

[The big seven footer does exactly that, powering Layton up into the
air, lowering him over the ropes where he crashes down to the floor...

...and where Polemos, the God of War, grabs Donovan by the arm, yanking
him over the ropes to the floor as well!]

GM:  He's gone!  Donovan's gone!  They're both gone - Layton too!  We're
down to four!

BW:  Polemos, the power of Polemos on display once more!

[But Layton gets his God of War out of the ringside area before Donovan
can come after them, rushing back up the aisle as a team of AWA
officials struggle to keep Donovan at bay.]

GM:  We're down to four!  Sudakov, Sharif, Supernova, and Casanova!

[Sudakov grabs the top rope, snapping off kicks to the flabby torso of
the Playboy as Supernova starts to rally against Sharif, throwing big
haymakers to the skull.  He grabs Sharif by the arm, firing him across
the ring.  On the rebound, he hoists Sharif high into the air with one
leg...

...and brings him CRASHING facefirst into the canvas!]

GM:  FLAPJACK!!  FACEFIRST TO THE MAT!!

[Supernova springs up, hammering his chest with clenched fists.  Out on
the floor, both Kostovich and Bathwaite can be heard SCREAMING at
Sudakov to get back to help Sharif!]

GM:  Sudakov's ignoring them!  They want him to help the Sultan but
Sudakov's taking no part in that!  If Sharif wants to win this thing,
he's gotta do it on his own!

[The California young lion drags Sharif up by the arm, firing him across
the ring to the corner.  Supernova backs to the corner, howling to the
crowd, and then sprints across, leaving his feet...]

GM:  HEAAAAAT WAAAAAV- OHHHHH!

[The crowd jeers as Sharif falls out of the corner just in the nick of
time, causing Supernova to smash chestfirst into the buckles!]

GM:  He missed!  He missed the splash in the corner!

[A dazed Sharif pulls Supernova to the side by the arm, grabbing him by
the trunks, and FIRING him over the ropes, turning around to strike a
double bicep pose to celebrate...

...and not noticing Supernova hanging on to the top rope!]

GM:  Supernova's got the rope!  Supernova didn't hit the floor!

BW:  Turn around, Sultan!  Turn around!

[Using his tremendous power, Supernova pulls himself back over the
ropes, landing on his feet back inside the ring...

...and floors a turning Sharif with a big right hand!]

GM:  Down goes Sharif!

[Leaning over to grab the legs, Supernova ties up the Sultan and with
the crowd going nuts, he turns him over into the Solar Flare!]

GM:  SOLAR FLARE!!  HE'S GOT IT LOCKED ON!!

[The crowd is roaring for Supernova, some fans actually jumping up and
down with joy at seeing Sharif trapped in the Texas Cloverleaf...

In the background, we see Kolya Sudakov send Casanova over the ropes
with a Russian Sickle!]

BW:  SICKLE!!  SUDAKOV KNOCKS OUT CASANOVA!!

[And as the former World Champion turns around, he spots a screaming
Sharif trapped in Supernova's dangerous submission hold.  From outside
the ring, Ivan Kostovich is turning a bright shade of red as he screams
at his charge.  Adrian Bathwaite is losing his mind as well, trying to
get Sharif to battle out of it!]

GM:  Sudakov's watching!  He's just watching!  

BW:  He's gotta do something, damn it!  He's been ordered to do
something to help Sharif!

GM:  Take a stand, Kolya!  Be your own man!  Be your-


"OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"


[The crowd explodes in jeers as Sudakov suddenly rushes forward,
DRILLING Supernova with the Russian Sickle in the back of the head. 
Sudakov follows through, leaning over the ropes with a look of disgrace
on his face as he covers his head with his hands.  The boos are
deafening as Supernova lies motionless on the canvas.]

GM:  I can't believe it!  I can't believe he just did that to his
friend, Supernova!

BW:  He doesn't have a choice!  When are you going to get that through
your head, Myers?  If he wants to continue to stay in this country... if
he wants to continue being a professional wrestler, he has to do EXACTLY
what Ivan Kostovich tells him to do!

[Sudakov slowly turns...

...and gets drilled by a mostly-empty water bottle flung by a fan. 
Shaking his head, he slowly approaches the downed Supernova, pulling him
up off the mat.]

GM:  Now what?!

[And tosses Supernova over the ropes to the floor to another huge shower
of jeers!]

GM:  Unbelievable!  I can't believe what we just saw!  Kolya Sudakov not
only delivered the Russian Sickle to Supernova from behind... he just
tossed him out to the floor.  Absolutely disgusting, Bucky.

BW:  But the real question is - what happens now?

[The crowd is booing as Sultan Azam Sharif stumbles to his feet,
reaching back to grab his lower back.]

GM:  We've got the Sultan!  We've got Sudakov!  One of these men will be
#30 in the Rumble!  

[Sudakov rolls his neck, striking a fighting pose, ready to go...

...when suddenly Kostovich screams something in Russian in Sudakov's
direction.]

GM:  What's going on now?  What's he saying?

BW:  Do I look like I speak Russian, Gordo?

GM:  Ivan Kostovich is shouting something in Russian to Sudakov...
something in- no!  Don't do it!  Don't you-

[And the crowd's jeers grow even louder as Sudakov throws himself over
the top rope onto the entrance ramp.  The bell rings to make it official
as a furious former World Champion stalks back up the aisle towards the
locker room, leaving a stunned Sharif behind.]

GM:  I can't believe it.  That... this makes me sick, Bucky.

BW:  Sultan Azam Sharif has won it!  He will be #30 in the Rumble and
he'll be the man on Memorial Day with all the odds in his favor, daddy!

[Count Adrian Bathwaite and Ivan Kostovich join Sharif in the ring,
speaking to the confused grappler who suddenly nods, lightening up as he
raises his arms in triumph.]

GM:  Sharif has won it... but how in the world can he be happy about
this?  He talks about honor and all that.  There is no honor in a
victory like this, Bucky.  Admit it!

BW:  Sultan Azam Sharif will be #30 in the Memorial Day Rumble and
nothing else matters one bit, daddy!  

GM:  Unbelievable.  Fans, we've got to take a quick break but we'll be
right back with our gigantic steel cage showdown!  Don't you dare go
away!

[The camera focuses once more on the victorious Sultan Azam Sharif
before 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:  You know, Mark... the AWA Access iPhone app has been so popular
over the past year, I hear we're making a sequel!

MS:  Jason, that kind of news is so hot, it should be on the app!

[The two men laugh very awkwardly as a giant iPhone appears.]

JD:  Hello, Mr. iPhone.

[The iPhone speaks.  Yes.  Yes it does.]

iPhone:  Hello, Jason Dane.  Did you know that former AWA National
Champion Kolya Sudakov was a former Mixed Martial Artist?

JD:  Well, actually I did.

iPhone:  Mark Stegglet, did you know that Calisto Dufresne was the first
and only champion in Pro Wrestling Revolution?

MS(in his best Johnny Carson impression):  I did not know that!

[Thankfully, a voiceover starts.]

VO:  Starting today, you can download AWA Access Version 2.0!  This new
app contains a brand new TRIVIA mode where you can get all the details
on your favorite AWA superstars!  Plus, be the first to see our brand
new BEFORE THE AWA section where you can find matches from the best of
the AWA - before they were AWA!

AWA Access Version 2.0 - coming to an iPhone near you!

[Fade back to black...

...and as we return from commercial, the shot comes to an AWA backdrop
where the rotund City Jack sits front and center on a steel chair.  The
footage is marked "EARLIER TODAY" and Jack's dressed in a flannel shirt
and jeans, both garments a bit snug. He wears a pair of dark aviators,
covering the eye that's been the target these many, many months. 

Propped against the his leg is the baseball bat Jack's been carrying
around with him since his return. The shot remains long as Jack looks
into the camera, ready to start.]

CJ: Cal-is-to.

[The name spits off Jack's Kentucky tongue with some effort.]

CJ: Du-fresne.

[Jack upturns his lip in reaction to the last name.]

CJ: Never in my past - NOT ONCE - had I ever wanted to maim another
human being. In all my battles - in ALL my years in that ring, I never
had a thirst of drippin' a man's blood and paintin' the canvas red.
Sure, I've had my battles...

[Jack nods.]

CJ: Earl Husker nearly flattened me with a two-by-four in Liberty. "Bad
Eye" McBaine tried and tried to put my under his boots in El Paso. That
sonofagun Grant Stone, he poured blood out o' me like it was wine in
Louisville. But them men? Them all had a decency to them - however poor
it was, it was there.

[The proud Kentuckian holds up his hand for a moment.]

CJ: Every single one of 'em! Every man I done faced off against in the
ring had at the very littlest a bit o' decency! Sadistic and brutal and
sometimes... sometimes even a hint evil, but...

[Jack nods again.]

CJ: But not a pure, one hundred full on percent of devil-like evil!
Never an evil wrapped up in a large glob o' cowardice! And NEVER - NEVER
even a thought of crossin' that line.

[City Jack points and wags his finger to the screen.]

CJ: Never that line where you go from takin' not only a man's
livelihood, but the willful - gleeful - want to destroy a man,
permanently. Never that far on in evil like you, Cal-is-to Du-fresne.

[Though said calmly, one can tell by the seething after his opponent's
name just how put off Jack is.]

CJ: To them other sadistic S.O.B.'s, it was always some sort of pissin'
match. Always some sort chest puffin, primal-like act to show who's king
of the jungle. But with you, it was like...

[Jack shakes his head.]

CJ: Like it didn't even matter. Takin' down a man, HUMILIATIN' him, and
then... when he's tryin' bow out - admittin' his time is gone and
done...

[City Jack takes in a deep breath as he shakes his head.]

CJ: When I'm tryin' to tell my FAMILY - every single one fan that had
seen me in the ring and cheered me on - that I had no place in this
sport anymore... You blind me.

[The shot closes in as Jack continues, with more intensity.]

CJ: You take a man who's DONE! And you BLIND me! You don't just let me
go... Naw, he gotta take a trophy! You gotta take MY sight!

[Jack rips off his sunglasses, revealing the scarred up eye that's been
Jack's battle for the past year and a half.]

CJ: All cause... All cause I never said... You the better man.

[With the camera close-in on Jack's shoulders and head, the big man sits
there silently for a moment.

CJ: Well, Du-fresne? The Huskers and the McBaines and the Stones...

[Jack puts on his sunglasses again, covering the everlasting affects of
Dufresne's heinous actions.]

CJ: They were ALL better men than you! They all were more of a man than
you, boy! And I tell you what, none of 'em - not a one - could put me
down! Not a one could put this here ol' sob down!

[The camera widens a little bit.]

CJ: And comes tonight, at Crockett Coliseum! I'm gonna show the world
who you are, Cal-is-to! I'm gonna show the world you can do all you want
to City Jack but it's all gonna come back to you, ten times the world of
pain and sufferin' you done put on!

[Jack grips the bat by his side, lifting the end towards the camera.]

CJ: Come tonight, I'm gonna put you DOWN! Tonight, I'm make sure you
ain't walkin' out of NO ring! Tonight?!

[Jack stands, pauses... and starts up again.]

CJ: I'm gonna show the world... just who the BETTER man... is. 

[As City Jack keeps looking into the camera, the shot fades out on the
big man.

And as we crossfade back into the arena, we find a rabid crowd roaring
with anticipation because the steel cage has been erected for a singles
match in the AWA for only the second time in three years.  Phil Watson
is standing in the middle of the cage.]

PW:  The following contest is scheduled for one fall with a one hour
time limit and will be conducted inside of the FIFTEEN FOOT HIGH STEEL
CAGE!  There will be no countouts, no disqualifications, and ANYTHING
GOES!

[DEAFENING CHEER!]

PW:  The only way to win this match is by pinfall or submission.

[Watson lowers the mic as Chet Atkins' "Classical Gas" starts up to a
mammoth reaction from the AWA faithful.  After a long moment, City Jack
emerges from the black curtain.  He pauses just beyond the entrance,
looking through the darkened arena at the steel mesh cage that is lit up
by several lights.]

GM:  There he is, Bucky.  And what could possibly be going through his
mind right now.  After all he's been through, after everything that's
happened... what could he possibly be thinking about?

BW:  Retirement homes?

GM:  Would you stop?

[City Jack stands alone in the darkness.  He's wearing his typical dark
brown singlet that has a blue stripe down both legs.  A dark red t-shirt
fits over his upper body, the sleeves cut out to reveal grey sweatbands
over his forearms.  He puts his black boots to work, striding with
purpose down the aisle to the roars of the crowd.]

GM:  This man has been put through hell by the man he'll step inside
this dangerous steel cage with tonight.  Perhaps the most dangerous
structure ever invented for professional wrestling.  That steel mesh
will scrape, will cut, will rip, will tear, and will mark you for life.

BW:  Being inside a steel cage is putting your very career on the line,
Gordo.  I can't tell you the number of careers that have been shortened
or ended by a steel cage match.

[Jack steps down a wooden staircase at the end of the ramp, walking
around the cage.  He reaches up a few times, slipping his fingers into
the mesh and tugging hard at the steel wall.  Jack nods his head as he
passes the timekeeper's table, approaching the wooden stairs that lead
up to the entrance of the steel structure.  He steps onto the second
step, bowing his head for a moment, breathing deeply, and then climbs
into the cage to another enormous reaction.  He makes a beeline for the
corner, backing in and resting against the buckles with his eyes closed
tight as his music starts to fade.

And is replaced with the sounds of ZZ Top's "Sharp Dressed Man" - an
anthem now conditioned to drive the AWA fans into a fury.  It does not
take long for Calisto Dufresne to emerge from the entrance curtain.  He
looks more serious than perhaps we've ever seen him, staring down the
aisle at the massive steel prison that he's about to climb into.]

GM:  Tonight, we will get no signs of the wise-cracking jerk that we
usually see with Calisto Dufresne.  Tonight, Dufresne knows exactly what
he's getting himself into.  He knows what he's done and he knows how
badly City Jack wants to make him pay for it.

[Dufresne has foregone his usual three-piece suit for this match,
already in his ring gear - a set of white trunks and boots.  His long
blonde hair is tied back in a ponytail and he is all business as he
heads down the ramp towards the ring, walking slowly and ignoring the
fans crying out for his blood.]

BW:  I like this side of Calisto Dufresne, Gordo!  He's focused!  He's
determined!  And he's ready to settle this blood feud so he can move on
to the National Title!

[The Ladykiller draws close to the cage, stopping at the end of the
ramp.  He stares through the cage wall, glaring through the mesh at City
Jack who is standing nearby.  But Jack doesn't even turn his head to
look at him, his eyes still locked shut.  Dufresne smashes his open hand
into the mesh a few times, trying to get Jack's attention.  Failing, he
turns away, walking down the steps to the floor.  He circles the ring,
looking up several times at the cage.  He mimics his opponent, tugging
at the steel a few times before reaching the cage door where he slowly
walks into the structure, staying exactly where he entered as Phil
Watson raises the mic.]

PW:  Introducing first... in the corner to my left... from Liberty,
Kentucky... weighing in tonight 335 pounds... 

CITY JAAAAAAAAAACK!

[ENORMOUS ROAR FROM THE CROWD!  Jack doesn't respond at all, still
standing with his eyes clenched.]

PW:  And his opponent...

[The crowd instantly starts jeering.]

PW:  From Avery Island, Louisiana... weighing in tonight at 245
pounds... he is the Ladykiller...

CAAAAAALIIIIIIIISTOOOO DUUUUUUFRESNE!

[Dufresne throws both arms in the air, soaking up the boos from the
rabid Dallas crowd.  Phil Watson immediately moves to the cage door,
moving past Dufresne to walk down the wooden steps.  Watson reaches the
floor as the AWA Senior Official Michael Meekly orders his son Marty to
close the door...

...and with a loud "CLANG!" that's exactly what happens.]

GM:  The cage door is shut!  It's locked!  And look at City Jack!

[It's as if the "CLANG!" was an alarm clock, causing Jack's eyes to snap
open, a cold gaze coming from them as he glares across the ring at his
most hated rival, a man who tried to end his career...

...who suddenly looks more than a bit nervous about being locked inside
a cage made of steel as the lock is put in place!]

GM:  There's nowhere to run, Dufresne!  Nowhere to hide!

[But that's not about to stop Dufresne from trying as he promptly grabs
the steel mesh, climbing the ropes in an attempt to escape.  The crowd
is roaring as Dufresne gets about halfway up the wall of the cage as
City Jack stalks across the ring towards him, reaching up...

...and grabbing Dufresne by the foot!  The crowd explodes!]

GM:  He's got him!  This is what we came to see, Bucky!

BW:  Speak for yourself.  I think this is a savage, barbaric way to make
a true talent like Calisto Dufresne compete.  The Championship Committee
forced him into this match and-

[With a mighty yank, City Jack pulls Dufresne right off the wall of the
cage, bringing him crashing down to the canvas!  Huge cheer!]

GM:  Jack pulls him down!  You're not getting out of here tonight,
Dufresne, without going through that man right there!

[Jack stands over Dufresne, fists clenched, as the Ladykiller crawls to
the corner, hands raised...]

GM:  How dare he?  How dare Calisto Dufresne ask for mercy from this
man?!

[Jack hesitates for a moment though, shaking his head instead of moving
in...

...which gives the Ladykiller the chance to grab Jack by the front of
the singlet, yanking Jack chestfirst into the corner!]

GM:  Ohh!  Big time leverage move by Dufresne!

[Quickly getting to his feet, Dufresne spins Jack around, pushing him
back to the corner...

...and popping him across the chest with a reverse knife-edge chop!]

GM:  Ohh!  What a chop!

[Dufresne throws a second chop to the chest, pie-facing Jack back into
the corner as Jack leans out of the buckles.  Leaning over, Dufresne
grabs the middle rope...

...and DRIVES his shoulder into the plump midsection of City Jack!]

GM:  Dufresne's going downstairs... and that may be the weak spot on
City Jack.  We heard him announced tonight at 335... about 11 pounds
heavier than we're used to seeing him.

BW:  And he's gotta be suffering from ring rust, Gordo.  How many times
have we seen Jack compete since coming back at SuperClash II?  Two? 
Three?

GM:  Something like that.

BW:  You've gotta be at your very best to compete against a man like
Calisto Dufresne and I just don't know if City Jack is tonight.  I just
don't know if he is.

[Two more shoulders connect with the midsection as Dufresne straightens
up, throwing another big chop to the chest...

...and catching a jab to the jaw in response!]

GM:  Jack fires back!

[Dufresne throws another chop...

...and gets another jab to the chops!]

GM:  City Jack's fighting back!

[Dufresne squares up, throwing a big haymaker to the jaw to which Jack
replies with a right jab... and another... and another, dancing out of
the corner...

...and then a big haymaker that knocks Dufresne flat on his back!  Big
cheer!]

GM:  If Calisto Dufresne wants to throw, City Jack'll throw!

BW:  He doesn't want to.  Dufresne needs to realize that he can't fight
City Jack's game.  He needs to grind him down, work a submission hold or
two, keep Jack off his feet.  And if he gets the chance, he needs to go
after that eye.

GM:  Are you kidding me?!

BW:  Of course not!  That eye is City Jack's number one weakness!  He
may not have the eyepatch on tonight - we're told the doctor told him he
should but he refused to wear it!  He refused to let Dufresne have the
psychological advantage of seeing him wear that eyepatch!  You think
that doesn't make that eye a bullseye for Calisto Dufresne?

GM:  The man nearly ended his career with that eye injury and you want
him to do it again?

BW:  Hell yes, I do.  City Jack says he can fight than that eye is fair
game, daddy!

GM:  That may the most disgusting thing I've ever heard you say, Bucky.

[Dufresne backs off to the corner, pulling himself to his feet as Jack
stands at the ready, fists clenched as he's ready to throw down once
more.  The Ladykiller's back is pressed to the buckles, raising his
hands, and shaking his head...

...but City Jack's having none of it, throwing Michael Meekly aside as
he rushes forward!]

GM:  Right hand!  Right hand!  Right hand!

[The big haymakers rock the Ladykiller, staggering him against the
buckles as Jack grabs for the arm...]

GM:  Irish whip!

[Dufresne slams into the opposite corner hard, staggering out of the
corner...

...and getting knocked flat with a big knife-edge chop of Jack's own!]

GM:  Ohh!  And City Jack returns the favor with that chop!  He nearly
took the skin right off his chest with that and-

[Dufresne rolls towards the edge of the ring...

...and rolls right into the steel, quickly scampering to his feet with
an alarmed look on his face.]

GM:  That's right!  There's no way out!  No place to go hide and
recover!

BW:  That's not fair!  He needs to regroup!  Someone call time out!

GM:  There's no time out in the world of professional wrestling and you
know that very well, Bucky Wilde.

[The Ladykiller slides back to the corner, looking panicked as Jack
approaches...

...and then lunges out, jabbing his fingers into the throat of City
Jack!]

GM:  Ohh!  Cheapshot by Dufresne!

[Grabbing Jack by the back of the head, the Ladykiller SLAMS his face
into the top turnbuckle!]

GM:  Jack's face hits the buckles!

[Spinning Jack around with his back to the corner, Dufresne throws a
series of kicks to the midsection.  He leans in, wrapping his hands
around the throat of his rival.  The referee steps in, asking for a
break.]

BW:  Meekly can ask for all the breaks he wants but Dufresne doesn't
have to give it to him.

GM:  He certainly doesn't.  Calisto Dufresne could potentially choke the
man all night here, Bucky.

[But he doesn't, breaking the choke and grabbing the arm of City Jack,
firing him across the ring.]

GM:  Jack hits the corner hard... and in comes Dufresne!

[The Ladykiller dashes across the ring...]

GM:  INTO THE BOOT!!

[The raised boot from the Liberty native catches Dufresne in the face at
the last moment, causing him to stumble backwards...

...and get knocked flat with a running clothesline!  Big cheer!]

GM:  In the early moments of this one, Calisto Dufresne just can't seem
to get on track.  City Jack is completely overwhelming him and these
fans are loving it!

[Jack looks out at the cheering crowd, nodding his head as he approaches
the downed Dufresne...

...and gets caught with a right hand to the gut!]

GM:  Oh!  Dufresne caught him coming in!

[Grabbing Jack by the head, Dufresne pulls him into a front facelock!]

GM:  NO!

[But Jack's having none of that, simply standing up and flipping
Dufresne overhead before he crashes down to the canvas!]

GM:  Backdrop!  He countered the DDT!

[Jack turns around, pointing a finger at Dufresne who is butt-scooting
backwards towards the corner, again shaking his head, begging for mercy
as Jack approaches the corner.  Grabbing the middle rope, Dufresne pulls
himself off the mat...

...and lashes out with a boot to the gut of the incoming City Jack!]

GM:  Ohh!  He caught him coming in!

[Dufresne quickly hops up to the second rope, measuring his man as he
leaps off with a double axehandle, smashing it over the skull of City
Jack and knocking him down to the mat!]

GM:  He floors City Jack!  He caught him with the double sledge off the
middle rope and-

[And the crowd EXPLODES in jeers as Dufresne drops into the mount,
grabbing Jack by the back of the head and driving fist after fist into
the area of the injured eye.]

GM:  Oh, come on!  

BW:  He's going after the eye, Gordo!

GM:  Of course he is!  He's as sick as you are!

[After several clenched fists land on (or near) the mark, the official
steps in, shouting at Dufresne to open up the hand... 

...and the Ladykiller does exactly that, flashing the official a gesture
not fit for AWA television.]

GM:  Fans, we apologize for that.  Calisto Dufresne is not exactly who
we look to as a stellar representative of AWA's family friendly
entertainment.

[Climbing to his feet, Dufresne pulls Jack off the mat, measuring him,
and drilling him with a right hand to the eye area that sends Jack
falling back to the buckles.  With a twisted smirk on his face, Dufresne
hops up to the middle rope, raining down punches to the eye area of Jack
as the crowd jeers...

...and Dufrense counts along with his own punches!]


"ONE!"
"TWO!"
"THREE!"
"FOUR!"
"FIVE!"
"SIX!"
"SEVEN!"
"EIGHT!"
"NINE!"
"TEN!"

[Dufresne hops down, mockingly applauding himself as he walks to the
middle of the ring, slowly turning to face all of the fans...

...and turns around right into a running clothesline from City Jack! 
Big cheer!  Jack immediately puts a hand to his injured eye after
flooring Dufresne, checking his own condition, and then moving in to
drag the Ladykiller up by his long blonde hair.]

GM:  Both men up... Jack shoves him back to the corner...

[And this time, it's City Jack who mounts the midbuckle, ready to rain
down blows upon his rival as this time, the crowd REALLY counts along
with it.]

"ONE!"
"TWO!"
"THREE!"
"FOUR!"
"FIVE!"
"SIX!"
"SEVEN!"
"EIGHT!"
"NINE!"
"TEN!"
"ELEVEN!"
"TWELVE!"

[The count continues as Jack fires shots to the skull but soon turns
into a blur of motion, throwing fist after fist as the fans desperately
attempt to keep up with the count.  After what has to be close to
twenty-five blows, Jack hops down off the ropes with a loud shout,
reaching back to hook Dufresne in a side headlock, charging out of the
corner...

...and SMASHING his face into the canvas!]

GM:  BULLDOG!!  HE HITS A BULLDOG!!!

[The fans cheer as Jack rolls Dufresne to his back, anticipating a pin
attempt, but not getting one as Jack climbs to his feet, measures his
opponent...

...and drops a heavy elbow down across the chest!]

GM:  Ohh!  King-sized elbowdrop by City Jack!

[Jack scampers back to his feet, raising his arm again, and dropping an
elbow down across the chest again.  With the crowd roaring, he gets up a
third time, again dropping the big elbow before he pushes up to his
knees, nodding his head at the roaring crowd.]

GM:  These fans are loving this!  City Jack is making Calisto Dufresne
pay for everything he did to him over the past year and a half and- 
Jack drags him back up...

[The crowd roars as Jack wraps his mammoth arms around the waist of
Dufresne, hoisting him off the mat...]

GM:  Bearhug!  We could be about to see a Metroboom!

[But Dufresne deftly jabs a thumb into the injured eye!]

GM:  Ohh!  To the eye!

[Dufresne stumbles backwards into the ropes, hanging on to the top rope
as he tries to recover from the offensive flurry for City Jack who wipes
his injured eye, and charges in with a fury...

...but Dufresne ducks down, pulling the top rope with him which causes
his hated rival to SLAM headfirst into the steel mesh!]

GM:  OHHH!  JACK HITS THE STEEL!!!

[City Jack recoils backwards from the self-inflicted charge into the
steel, bouncing back to the middle of the ring where he falls in a heap.
 Dufresne quickly pulls himself up, wearily pointing at his head to the
jeers of the crowd, and then walks slowly from the ropes, leaping up...

...and DRIVING his knee down into the forehead of City Jack!]

GM:  Good grief!  A perfectly placed kneedrop from the Ladykiller!

[Again grabbing the head, cradling it in his left arm, Dufresne drives
well-aimed short right hands into the area of the injured eye of his
rival.  After a few land, he climbs to his feet, stomping the same area
of the face to the jeers of the crowd!]

GM:  Calisto Dufresne, that sick son of a gun, is going right back after
that eye.  After all the damage he caused, after all he put City Jack
through, how could he even think of doing that, Bucky?

BW:  Are you serious?  The man stands in position to become the next
National Champion and City Jack is standing in his way of letting that
happen.  Dufresne will pluck his eyeball out and play marbles with it if
he has to!

[Dufresne leans down, hauling City Jack up by the arm.  He grabs him by
the back of the head, leading him over towards the side of the cage...

...and SMASHES his head into the steel mesh!]

GM:  Ohh!  Dufresne puts him into the steel!

[The crowd jeers as Dufresne shakes his head, slapping Jack across the
face, and smashes his face into the mesh again!]

"It didn't have to be this way!"

[Into the mesh once more!]

"You could have walked away!"

[Again to the mesh!  This time, he lets Jack stumble backwards, falling
in a heap on the canvas.  Dufresne stands over him, arms spread as he
soaks up the jeers of the capacity crowd.]

GM:  Calisto Dufresne is absolutely tormenting City Jack, Bucky!

[The Ladykiller leans over, flipping City Jack onto his back, and
revealing a stream of blood pouring from the forehead of City Jack.]

GM:  Oh my stars... he split him open.

BW:  You said it yourself, Gordo.  That steel mesh will cut, rip, and
tear... and that's exactly what it just did to City Jack's skull!  He's
split wide open and-

[Dufresne kneels down once more, now peppering the cut forehead with
stiff right hands, breaking the skin open more.]

GM:  Dufresne's hammering away at that cut, trying to bust him open a
little more.

[The Ladykiller hauls Jack back to his feet, pasting him with a right
hand that sends Jack falling back into the corner.  Dufresne approaches
the buckles, smashing Jack with an overhead elbow smash, knocking him
off his feet and down to a seated position in the corner.]

GM:  Jack's down and he's busted open badly...

[Planting his boot against the torn forehead, Dufresne SCRAPES his boot
across the wound!]

GM:  Ohh!  Come on, referee!  Get in there!

BW:  What do you want the ref to do?  He's got no part in this!

GM:  He's gotta have a part in this!  He can't let City Jack be injured
again!

BW:  City Jack wanted this match!  He wanted the cage match!  Whatever
he gets here tonight, he's got it coming to him, Gordo!

[Dufresne scrapes his boot across the cut forehead again.]

GM:  Come on!

[Leaning over, Dufresne pulls City Jack up off the mat, shoving him back
into the buckles...

...and sinks his teeth into the cut forehead!]

GM:  Ohh!  He's biting him!  He's biting him, Bucky!

BW:  Be careful, Calisto.  Who knows what kind of diseases this
hillbilly's carrying around with him!

[The Ladykiller backs off after a moment, spitting a bloody wad of
saliva back in Jack's face.  He reaches up, wiping his mouth with the
back of his hand, and then rocks Jack with another hard right hand to
the jaw.]

GM:  Dufresne is all over him right now, working him over in the
corner...

[Jack throws a weak kick to the body, trying to battle back... but
Dufresne rocks him with another pair of right hands before grabbing the
head, turning his rival towards the steel mesh and pushing his face into
the skin-tearing metal, grinding it back and forth against the steel!]

GM:  AHHH!  

[The crowd jeers as Jack screams out in pain for having his injured eye
raked back and forth across the steel mesh.  The referee steps in,
forcing Dufresne to back off for a moment as Jack slumps over...

...and Dufresne rushes forward, leaving his feet!]


"CLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANG!"
"OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"


GM:  DUFRESNE DROPKICKS JACK'S HEAD INTO THE STEEL!!!

[Jack's head bounces off the steel, causing him to roll back into the
ring where Dufresne applies a lateral press!]

GM:  First cover of the match!  We've got one!  We've got two!  

[But Jack fires a shoulder off the canvas, breaking the pin attempt.]

GM:  Only a two count and-

[The jeers grow louder again as Dufresne lands fist after fist after
fist on the injured eye and the cut forehead.  Climbing to his feet,
Dufresne steps forward, grabbing Jack around the legs...]

GM:  Look out here!

[Falling back, Dufresne leverages City Jack up into the air...

...where his face SLAMS into the steel mesh yet again!]

GM:  CATAPULT!!  He launched him headfirst - facefirst - into the steel!

[Jack crumples backwards, falling back to the mat as Dufresne covers him
again.]

GM:  Another cover - ONE!  TWO!  

[But again, Jack fires a shoulder off the mat.]

GM:  It's gonna take a lot more than that to keep the man from Liberty,
Kentucky down for a three count!  He's got too much heart... he's too
tough... too much of a warrior!

[An angry Dufresne pulls Jack to his feet, shoving him back into the
buckles.  Winding up, he throws a big chop across the chest to the jeers
of the crowd.]

GM:  Knife-edge chop by Dufresne!

[Shaking his head at the jeering crowd, Dufresne throws another chop!]

GM:  It looks like these fans may be getting under the skin of the
Ladykiller!

[Dufresne throws another... and another... and another... the crowd
growing louder with their boos with every blow.]


"YOU KEEP BOOING, I CAN DO THIS ALL NIGHT!"


[And Dufresne aims to prove it as he squares up, throwing the chops
again.]


"WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAP!"
"WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAP!"
"WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAP!"
"WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAP!"
"WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAP!"
"WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAP!"
"WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAP!"
"WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAP!"
"WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAP!"


[After a barrage of chops, Dufresne grabs Jack by the back of the head,
throwing his limp form down to the mat to the jeers of the crowd.  He
shakes his head at them again before dropping down to his knees for
another cover.]

GM:  ONE!!  TWO!!!  

[Big cheer!]

GM:  Still not enough!

[A frustrated Calisto Dufresne gets to his feet, burying a quartet of
kicks into the ribs of City Jack, forcing him to roll towards the ropes.
 The Ladykiller approaches, grabbing the top rope, and pushing his foot
against the head of Jack, forcing his face into the steel mesh again!]

GM:  Again!  Again he's driving the face into the solid steel structure
surrounding this ring!

[Leaning down, Dufresne drags Jack towards the middle of the ring. 
Turning away, he heads to the corner, hopping up to the middle rope.  He
shouts at City Jack, ordering him to get up, demanding for him to
rise...]

GM:  City Jack has no idea that Dufresne's waiting for him on the middle
rope!  He has no idea that-

[And as Jack reaches his feet, the Ladykiller leaps off with another
double axehandle...

...and gets caught with a right hand to the gut that flips Dufresne over
and down to the mat!  Big cheer!]

GM:  Jack caught him!  Jack caught him with the right hand on the way
down!

[A weary City Jack falls back against the ropes, breathing heavily as he
waves for Dufresne to get back to his feet.]

GM:  The Ladykiller's trying to get up, up to a knee now...

[And a rushing City Jack CREAMS Dufresne with a forearm smash!]

GM:  METROPILL!  METROPILL!!

[The heavy blow knocks Dufresne flat on his back, looking up at the
lights as City Jack is down on all fours next to him, weary from the
exertion of throwing the big forearm smash.  He breathes heavily as he
pushes himself back up to his feet, reaching down to haul Dufresne up...

...and flings him towards the ropes!]

GM:  Irish whip...

[Jack sets early for a backdrop, weariness causing him to drop his head
which allows Dufresne to pull up short and bury a boot into the face,
knocking Jack back to the ropes!]

GM:  Dufresne caught him - off the ropes he goes now!

[The Ladykiller charges in towards City Jack...

...who hoists Dufresne into the air, falling back into the cage to DRIVE
Dufresne's face into the mesh!]

GM:  TO THE STEEL!  DUFRESNE GOES TO THE STEEL!!

[Dufresne collapses backwards to the mat, rolling to his stomach where
Jack surges forward...

...and DROPS a big splash on the back of Dufresne's head!]

GM:  OHHH!  HE SPLASHED HIS HEAD!!  HE SPLASHED THE MAN'S HEAD!!

BW:  I don't know if I've ever seen that before!

GM:  City Jack stumbled forward... I don't even know if he knew what he
was doing... and he dropped over three hundred pounds down on the back
of the man's head.

[With Jack lying on his back, breathing hard, Dufresne rolls to his
back...

...and the crowd roars at the sight of a heavy flow of blood coming from
both Dufrense's forehead as well as his nose!]

GM:  Oh my stars!  Dufresne's busted open as well!

BW:  The forehead hit the steel... and I think that nose might have been
broken by the splash!  City Jack might have just broken Calisto
Dufresne's nose with that splash!

[An exhausted Jack rolls to his knees, throwing himself across the
downed Dufresne.]

GM:  ONE!!  TWO!!  

[But the Ladykiller kicks out as well, firing a shoulder off the mat.]

GM:  It was City Jack's first pin attempt of the match!  But Dufresne's
still got some fire left in him - still got some gas left in the tank.

[City Jack kneels next to Dufresne...

...and then grabs him by the blonde ponytail, pulling him closer.  He
rears back with his right hand, smashing it into the cut forehead!]

GM:  Ohh!  Big right hand!

[Jack throws another, trying to split the head open more.  He throws
fist after fist, faster and faster with the crowd going nuts as he tries
to draw more blood from his most hated rival.]

GM:  Jack's trying to split that head open like a melon!

[A tired City Jack pushes up to his feet, dragging Dufresne up by the
ponytail where a right hand sends Dufresne falling back against the
ropes.  Pulling him off the ropes, Jack scoops him up for a slam...]

GM:  A powerslam perhaps?  

[Jack charges away from the ropes like he's going for a powerslam...

...but keeps on running, eventually DRIVING Dufresne's skull into the
steel mesh!]

GM:  OHHHHHHHHHHH!

[Both men tumble backwards from the blow, crashing down to the mat where
Jack throws a heavy arm over Dufresne's chest.]

GM:  ONE!!  TWO!!  TH-

[BIG SHOCKED REACTION!]

GM:  SHOULDER UP!!  SHOULDER UP!!  I thought for sure he had him there! 
I thought City Jack had him beat right there with the headfirst drive
into the steel... I thought he had the man beaten.

BW:  Admit it, Gordo!  Admit that Dufresne's got more in him than you
ever dreamed!

GM:  He's showing a tremendous amount of heart to stay in this thing,
that's for sure.

[City Jack pushes up to his knees again, shaking his head back and
forth.  He approaches the barely-conscious Calisto Dufresne, leaning
down to pull him up by the hair and...]


"OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"


GM:  LOW BLOW!  DUFRESNE HITS HIM LOW!!

[With his arm still between the legs of the stunned City Jack, Dufresne
stands up, somehow powering the much-larger man up across his broad
shoulders.]

GM:  He's got Jack up!  He's got him across his back!

[Dufresne staggers out of the corner, holding his rival up in the
Fireman's carry...

...and does a quick spin, flinging Jack off, and JAMMING Jack's jaw into
the Ladykiller's shoulder!]

GM:  OHHHH!  FIREMAN'S CARRY INTO SOME KIND OF JAWBREAKER!!

[Jack slumps to the mat behind Dufresne who sits up for a moment, then
just falls backwards in a sloppy cover.]

GM:  HE'S GOT ONE!!  HE'S GOT TWO!!  HE'S GOT-

[BIG CHEER!]

GM:  SHOULDER UP!!  SHOULDER UP!!  JACK'S GOT THE SHOULDER UP!!

[A frustrated Calisto Dufresne rolls away to the ropes, using them to
pull himself off the mat and into the corner.  He uses a hand to wipe
the blood streaming down his face.  His white trunks are starting to
turn pink from the crimson leaking down his torso onto them.  Shaking
his head at his downed rival, Dufresne dips into his tights...]

GM:  No, no - what's he doing now?

[The crowd jeers crazily as Dufresne withdraws a set of brass knuckles
in his hand.]

GM:  He's got brass knuckles!  

BW:  We've seen this from him before, Gordo!

GM:  We certainly have!  Dufresne has used brass knuckles throughout his
career to devastating effect!  His first championship, the PWR Pacific
Title, came to him thanks to a set of brass knuckles!  Every step of the
way along his career, he's used these brass knuckles.  And now, now he
wants to defeat the greatest rival of his career with those same brass
knuckles!

[Dufresne slips the knuckles onto his right hand, nodding his head.  A
protesting Michael Meekly arrives, arguing with Dufresne, ordering him
to take the knucks off...

...and gets SHOVED down to the canvas to the jeers of the crowd!]

GM:  Ohh!  He pushed down Michael Meekly!  He's shouting at Jack! 
Screaming at him to get up!

[And an unaware City Jack does exactly that, pushing himself up off the
mat to a knee.  Dufresne kicks the ropes, holding up the clenched fist
that is wrapped in metal as he screams at his rival.  Jack climbs the
rest of the way up to his feet...]

GM:  NO!

[Dufresne charges forward, throwing a big knucks-encased right hand
directly at the head of his arch-rival...

...who slaps the blow away, quickly wrapping his arms around the waist
of the Ladykiller in a bearhug, before popping his hips, twisting, and
DRIVING Dufresne down to the mat!  EXPLOSIVE CHEERS!]

GM:  METROBOOM!  METROBOOM!

[Jack stays atop Dufresne as Michael Meekly dives to the mat to count.]

GM:  ONE!!  TWO!!!  THRE-


"OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"


GM:  HE KICKED OUT!!  MY STARS IN HEAVEN, DUFRESNE KICKED OUT!!

[A bloodied Jack slumps to the side of Dufresne, his chest heaving as he
lies on his back in the middle of the ring.  The Ladykiller is just
inches away, tilted slightly onto his side to avoid another pin attempt.
 Both men are covered in blood, completely battered and exhausted, and
unable to move as the crowd roars for both men.]

GM:  Both of these men are down!  Both of these men are bloodied!  What
in the world is it gonna take?  If the Metroboom couldn't keep him down,
what's gonna do it?

[The referee stands over both men, checking on them.  He lifts an arm on
both men, watching it slump down to the mat.]

GM:  The referee is checking them both.  He may need to stop this thing.

BW:  No!  No way!  We've gotta have a winner here!  We've gotta!

[City Jack rolls to his side, then pushing over to his stomach.  His
bloodied face is covered in pain as he pushes up to his knees.  He moves
a hand up to his injured eye, checking his condition as he crawls to his
feet, falling back into the ropes.]

GM:  City Jack is hurt... he's hurt bad... but so is Dufresne.

[Jack staggers forward, hauling Dufresne up by the ponytail.  The hair
comes loose as he's dragged up, hanging around his bloodied face and
neck as Jack shoves Dufresne back into the corner.  He stumbles forward,
throwing a big right hand to the jaw... and a second... and a third...]

GM:  Jack's hammering away on him in the corner...

[Grabbing an arm, Jack fires Dufresne across the ring, slamming hard
into the corner where he stumbles out...

...and gets launched HIGH OVERHEAD with a backdrop!]

GM:  BIG!  BACK!  BODYDROP!!

[With Dufresne down on the mat, Jack approaches, yanking him by the long
blonde hair into a seated position.  Jack reaches up, yanking off the
padding covering his right forearm and elbow...

...and throws it aside to a huge cheer!]

GM:  Oh my stars!  What does he have in mind here?

[Pulling Dufresne's head back, Jack looks down at his bloodied rival's
exposed face...

...and SLAMS his exposed elbow down into the eyesocket of the
Ladykiller!]

GM:  OHHH!

[Jack measures his man, shaking his head at him, and SLAMS the elbow
down into the eye again!]

GM:  Again!  Again!

BW:  Stop him!

[The crowd roars as Jack throws another elbow into the eye... and
another... and another... and another...]

GM:  City Jack is raining down elbows on the eyesocket of Calisto
Dufresne!  This could be a little bit of an eye for an eye - Biblical
Justice, if you will!

BW:  Stop him!

GM:  The referee's right there... the referee is trying to get him to
stop...

[BIG SHOCKED REACTION!]

GM:  Jack shoved the ref!  City Jack just knocked the ref down!

[A frustrated City Jack shouts something in the downed Michael Meekly's
direction as Jack turns his focus back to the kneeling Dufresne, slowly
raising his exposed elbow as high as he can...]


"OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"


GM:  LOW BLOW!!  DUFRESNE CAUGHT HIM LOW!!

[With Jack stunned, Dufresne pops up, hooking a front facelock.  The
crowd roars with anticipation as Dufresne tries for his trademark DDT...

...and Jack charges forward, slamming the back of Dufresne's head into
the steel mesh!]

GM:  GOOD GRIEF!!

[Dufresne slumps down to the mat, falling between the ropes and ending
up between the ropes and the steel cage.  A weary Jack reaches over the
ropes, pulling Dufresne to his feet...]

GM:  Oh no.

[With the Ladykiller on his feet, facing the steel mesh, Jack grabs the
long blonde locks and shoves his bloodied face into the steel!]

GM:  OHHH!

[And the crowd roars as Jack rakes the face back and forth, ripping and
tearing the flesh of his rival on the steel!]

BW:  This guy is a savage animal, Gordo!

GM:  Jack's trying to bleed him dry!  He's making Dufresne pay for every
single moment of pain he's felt over the past year and a half, Bucky! 
He wants him to- ohhh!

[The crowd roars in echo of Gordo as Jack throws a Metropill to the back
of the head, smashing Dufresne's face into the steel!]

GM:  Good grief!

[Holding Dufresne's face against the steel, Jack throws three more
Metropills to the back of the head, repeatedly driving the face into the
mesh...

...and then breaks into a dash, bouncing off the far ropes, rebounding
off...]

GM:  HERE!  HE!  COMES!


"CLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANG!"


GM:  RUNNING METROPILL TO THE BACK OF THE HEAD!!

[The crowd roars for the impact of Jack's arm smashing the back of
Dufresne's head, driving his face into the steel once more before the
Ladykiller slumps, bloodied and battered, down to the mat.  Shaking his
head, Jack grabs Dufresne by the arm, dragging his motionless body under
the ropes into the middle of the ring.  Jack holds up his arm, slapping
the exposed elbow again...]

GM:  Oh no. 

BW:  Again?!

GM:  Jack's going for more of those elbows to the eye!  He leans over to
grab- ohh!  Dufresne caught him with a kick to the head!

[Rolling to his side, Dufresne throws a haymaker from left field,
popping Jack on the jaw and sending him stumbling backwards into the
ropes where he comes charging back off...

...and gets backdropped RIGHT into the steel wall!]


"OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"


GM:  JACK GOT BACKDROPPED INTO THE MESH!!  HE LANDS RIGHT ON HIS HEAD ON
THE MAT!!!

[An exhausted Dufresne stumbles forward, collapsing onto Jack's prone
form.]

GM:  ONE!!  TWO!!!  THRE-

[HUUUUUUGE CHEER!]

GM:  FOOT ON THE ROPES!!  FOOT ON THE ROPES!!  JACK GOT THE FOOT UP
THERE!

[A furious Dufresne slams his fist into the mat a few times, screaming
at Michael Meekly...

...and then drops down to a knee, unzipping the side of his boot and
digging into it.]

GM:  Wait a second!  Dufresne's going for something!  He's going for
something inside that boot!

[And the crowd loses their collective minds as he stands up, holding
something into view.]

GM:  A lighter!  He's got that Zippo lighter he used back at the first
SuperClash!  

BW:  Fire it up!  Fire it up!  Fire it up!

GM:  Shut up, Bucky!  We can't have this happen!  We can't-

[Michaely Meekly believes the same thing, shouting at Dufresne who is
holding the lighter in front of his eyes, gazing into the flame as he
waits for City Jack to stir...

...and then gets shoved down by Dufresne who threatens to throw the fire
at Meekly if he gets in his way again!]

GM:  There's no one to protect City Jack!  There's no one to stop this
maniac, Dufresne!

[The Ladykiller shouts out so all can hear...]

"HOW 'BOUT A LITTLE FIRE, SCARECROW?!"

[...and as a dazed City Jack starts to rise, shaking his head to clear
the cobwebs, stumbling around...]

GM:  No, no, no!  Jack!  Jack, look out!


"WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSH!"


[The blinding fireball that put City Jack on the shelf for over a
year...

...goes flying past him as he ducks it!]

GM:  HE MISSED!!  HE MISSED!!!

[And Jack reaches out, wrapping up Dufresne in his massive arms.  With a
loud bellow, Jack powers Dufresne way up into the air, popping his
hips...

...and DRIVING Dufresne down to the canvas with a thunderous
belly-to-belly suplex!]

GM:  METROBOOM!!  METROBOOM!!!

[Jack stays on Dufresne, motionless as the referee dives to count.]

GM:  ONE!!  TWO!!  THREEEEEEEEEE!!!


"DING!  DING!  DING!"


[The crowd ERUPTS at the sound of the bell as an exhausted City Jack
immediately pushes up to his knees, shoving away the prone Dufresne like
he wants nothing more than to never have to touch him again.  Jack puts
his hands on his hips, breathing heavily as he tilts his head back, eyes
tightly closed.]

PW:  Here is your winner...

CITY JAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!

[The crowd bursts into a dull roar once more as the referee steps
forward, raising one of Jack's arms into the air.]

GM:  City Jack, at long last, has done it!  He has taken eighteen months
- heck, he's taken SEVEN years of heartache, of struggles, of battles,
of overcoming EVERYTHING put in front of him - and he has vanquished
Calisto Dufresne in the center of this steel cage tonight inside the
Crockett Coliseum, Bucky!

BW:  I'm in shock, Gordo.  Absolutely in shock.

GM:  The man from Liberty, Kentucky had his life destroyed - put in
shambles - by the Ladykiller, Calisto Dufresne, but on this night, it is
Jack with his hand - and his head - held high!  City Jack has defeated
the man who has haunted him for seven years, Bucky!

BW:  I never thought I'd see it happen.  I thought -after everything
he'd done - Dufresne had his number.  I though the Ladykiller could
survive anything that Jack threw at him.  

GM:  But it's City Jack standing on top of the mountain tonight in
Dallas, Texas!

[Jack struggles to his feet with the aid of the official, standing over
the downed Dufresne...

...and Jack slowly wobbles across the ring, reaching down.]

GM:  What's he... oh no...

[The crowd responds with a buzzing sound as the Liberty native picks up
a shiny object off the mat...

...Dufresne's Zippo lighter.]

GM:  Jack, I don't know what you're thinking here but-

BW:  Really?  After everything he's gone through?  You said it yourself,
Dufresne destroyed this man's life!  You honestly don't know what he's
thinking here?

GM:  I... I don't want to think about it.  City Jack can not do this! 
He's better than this!  As much as he wants to, he's a better man than
this, Bucky.

[Jack flips open the top of the lighter, flicking his thumb to see the
flame.  The flame that scarred his face.  The flame that took his vision
for months.  The flame that nearly ended his career.]

BW:  Come on, Gordo.  Doesn't a little bit of you - just a little piece
- want to see it?  Don't you want to see Jack burn up Dufresne's face
like the Ladykiller did to him?

GM:  No!  It doesn't have to be that way!  It doesn't need to-

[Jack leans down, squatting next to the downed Ladykiller.  He pulls
Dufresne's bloodied face up by his rapidly-reddening hair, dragging his
prone torso up as well.  Jack leans in closer, holding the flame just
inches in front of Dufresne, letting the light flicker in the
Ladykiller's barely-conscious eyes.]

GM:  Don't do it, Jack... don't do it...

[The crowd is almost silent... waiting to see what City Jack will or
won't do...

...and suddenly, they get their answer as Jack flips the lighter shut,
flinging it aside.  He lets go of Dufresne's blood-soaked hair, dropping
his head back down to the mat, and slowly rises to his feet, soaking up
a roaring ovation from the crowd.  He lifts a lone bloody arm in
triumph, nodding to the fans, and with the official's help, he exits the
steel cage, wobbling back up the aisle towards the locker room 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:  You know, Mark... the AWA Access iPhone app has been so popular
over the past year, I hear we're making a sequel!

MS:  Jason, that kind of news is so hot, it should be on the app!

[The two men laugh very awkwardly as a giant iPhone appears.]

JD:  Hello, Mr. iPhone.

[The iPhone speaks.  Yes.  Yes it does.]

iPhone:  Hello, Jason Dane.  Did you know that former AWA National
Champion Kolya Sudakov was a former Mixed Martial Artist?

JD:  Well, actually I did.

iPhone:  Mark Stegglet, did you know that Calisto Dufresne was the first
and only champion in Pro Wrestling Revolution?

MS(in his best Johnny Carson impression):  I did not know that!

[Thankfully, a voiceover starts.]

VO:  Starting today, you can download AWA Access Version 2.0!  This new
app contains a brand new TRIVIA mode where you can get all the details
on your favorite AWA superstars!  Plus, be the first to see our brand
new BEFORE THE AWA section where you can find matches from the best of
the AWA - before they were AWA!

AWA Access Version 2.0 - coming to an iPhone near you!

[Fade back to black...

...and as we fade back up to live action, we find Bucky Wilde standing
inside the ring where the steel cage is still being taken down by the
AWA ring crew - even though they're very fast!  Oh, and Bucky's got a
mic!]

BW:  Welcome to... THE CALL OF THE WILDE!!

[There's a reaction... some positive, some negative... but he gets a
reaction and that's really all he wanted.]

BW:  I promised you all a big surprise here tonight - the kind of
surprise that you'll ONLY get on The Call of the Wilde.  While
Michaelson's over there on the Money Pit introducing some decrepit old
man who might have keeled over and die before he finished his speech,
Bucky Wilde, the three-time Announcer of the Year, is bringing you the
REAL scoop!  The real news!  The hot ticket!

[A few more cheers this time.]

BW:  So, Michaelson... if you're sitting there in the back, pry yourself
away from your wife for a second and look real close on that screen. 
Because not only do I have a gift for all these fans here tonight, I've
got a gift for you too... a special how-to segment on how to really make
your show the place to be, daddy!

I'm not gonna waste any more time like that blowhard Michaelson...

[Bucky grins.]

BW:  In fact... I'm not even gonna introduce my guest tonight because
the fact of the matter is... if there was EVER a man who needs no
introduction, this would be him.  You know what?  Hit his music, sound
guy.  

[A wink to the camera.]

BW:  Happy anniversary, everyone.

[And suddenly...

The opening strands of the classic team anthem "Everything About You" by
Ugly Kid Joe hit the arena.

Wait...what?

It takes a moment for the crowd to recall who once used that music, but
when they start to figure it out...it's the mother of all shocked pops. 
Bucky grins on camera one, and the cut to camera two shows that indeed,
he has returned.

"Hotshot" Stevie Scott.

In addition to the change of music, there's another change...the
clothes.  Instead of the expensive suits he wore before, Stevie's
returned to his patterned silk shirt and cargo shorts.  His sandy blond
hair has grown back out and is tied in a ponytail; his face sporting a
little bit of dark-colored stubble.

With a little bit of pep in his step, Stevie Scott makes his way down
the aisle towards the ring, passing by several ring crew members as he
approaches.  The crowd does not quite know how to react, a mixture of
boos for one of the most hated men in the business and cheers for a big
surprise return.  Scott steps through the ropes, looking at Bucky Wilde
who greets him with a big handshake.  Bucky is absolutely beaming as the
music fades.]

BW:  Stevie Scott, my good friend, welcome... home!

[Again, a bit of a mixed reaction from the crowd for that.  Stevie Scott
eyes the crowd, nodding a bit before turning his gaze back to Bucky
Wilde to whom he inclines his head slightly.]

HSS: 'Sup?

[Bucky pauses, waiting for Stevie to say more.  But it's obvious he's
not going to, so Bucky presses on.]

BW:  Now, for nearly four months now, since SuperClash II, the Number
One question coming into the AWA offices has been...

Where is Stevie Scott?  What is he doing?  When is he coming back?

[Stevie looks at Wilde blankly at first, and then...be it ever so
slight, but that might be a mini Steviegrin~! ... might it?]

HSS: That's three questions, Buck-o.

[Bucky grins in return - a bit sheepishly.]

BW: Well... yeah.  But you get the idea.  The people want to know, and
of course, I'm the one who is delivering them YOU so you can give the
answers.

[Awkward pause.  Stevie again looks blankly at Bucky, taking his time to
answer.  But, once Bucky reaches a certain level of uncomfortable,
Stevie speaks.]

HSS: Okay, fine, let's answer those questions.

"Where is Stevie Scott?"  

[Stevie looks around, then looks down at himself.]

HSS:  He's standing right here.  That's pretty easy.

[The crowd chuckles a bit at that one.]

HSS:  "What is he doing?"  Well, Bucky... he's standing right here...and
_talking_!  Again, easy question.

[Bucky looks a little agitated as Stevie continues.]

HSS:  "When is he coming back?" 

Well, from the looks of things, since he is standing right here and
talking...

[Dramatic pause.]

HSS:  ...I'd say right now.

[A few more cheers this time around for the former two-time World
Champion.]

HSS:  Got any other brain-teasers for me tonight, Buckster?

[This, obviously, is not the direction a flustered Bucky thought the
interview would go.]

BW: Alright, fine, I can see you're not going to make this easy.  Good
thing I can handle it, unlike Michaelson who has to have his guests
scripted.  Let's try this.  WHY are you back in the AWA?

[Scott nods.]

HSS: Because, Buckthorn...I have some unfinished business to takes care
of.

[That gets the crowd buzzing and Bucky perking up.  He smirks as he
pursues the question further.]

BW:  Unfinished business?  And by that do you mean the man who put you
on the shelf and took the AWA National Title from your waist?

[Scott stands silent for a moment, staring at Bucky.]

HSS: You're the journalist here, Buckleberry Finn.  What do you think?

[Oh, we know what Bucky thinks!]

BW: It makes a whole lotta sense, daddy!

[Stevie nods, grinning a little bit.]

HSS: That it does.  And remind me, what's the Main Event tonight?

[Well now, Bucky's getting so excited he might need a towel.]

BW: Vasquez and Mizusawa, daddy!  That's why you're back, isn't it? 
You're gonna snap Vasquez's pencil neck with the same piledriver he used
on you!  That's it, isn't it?  Tell ol' Buckthorn!

[More grinning from the former champ.]

HSS: Let's just say that soon enough, anyone who wants to know why
Stevie Scott is back in the AWA?

[Dramatic pause #2.]

HSS:  They'll find out, and they won't have to look very hard to see it.

[Stevie turns away from a smirking Bucky Wilde, exiting back up the ramp
as his music plays again.  The crowd is decidedly more anti-Stevie on
his way back to the locker room than they were on his way to the ring.]

BW:  How's that for a scoop, Michaelson?  Stick that in your pipe and
smoke it!  Jason Dane, the floor is yours, you buffoon!

[We cut to backstage where we find Jason Dane standing between the
members of Rough N Ready. Dave Cooper and Eric Matthew Somers are both
dressed in their wrestling attire, each member with a National Tag Team
Title belt slung over his shoulder.]

JD:  Thanks, I guess, Bucky.  All right, fans, I am here with the AWA
National Tag Team Champions, Rough N Ready... the team that has been
dominating the competition since they won the tag team titles... the
team that came away with the Tag Team of the Year award... and the tag
team that some say may be facing their toughest challenge yet as they
take on the Stampede Cup champions, Violence Unlimited. Dave and Eric...
what exactly do you expect from tonight's match?

[Eric just gives Jason a hard stare, which seems to catch Jason off
guard. Dave then speaks.]

DC: Jason, if I were you, I'd be a little careful of what you say around
Eric.

JD: What are you talking about?

DC: Jason, it's really simple... we're getting tired of hearing about
how Violence Unlimited beat us for the Stampede Cup and how people seem
to think they are destined to become the next National tag team
champions. Apparently, the wins we've been piling up the past two years,
en route to the titles now in our possession, don't mean that much any
longer.

JD: I don't think it's that at all.

DC: Well, what else could it be, Jason? You know, I thought when we won
these titles, people would start taking us a little bit more
seriously... I can remember people wondering if Eric and I had it any
longer... they said our best days were behind us and there was no sense
trying to get to the top again. But look at what happened... we got to
the top and nobody has been able to knock us off yet. They thought the
Bombers were going to be the next big thing... and they were wrong. Now
they swear it's gonna be Violence Unlimited... but once again, they are
going to be proven wrong.

JD: But Violence Unlimited isn't like the Bombers... these are two men
that were bred to brawl and fight.

DC: And you think they are any different from the team we took the
titles from in the first place? Hey, I'm not gonna deny they are a good
team... but there's a difference between being good and being the best,
and Eric and I are the best. The belts we have say that, the voters
recognized that when we won the Tag Team of the Year award, and now, we
prove it agian as we beat Violence Unlimited.

JD: You sound a little bitter, Dave... honestly, you and Eric just seem
like you aren't happy about something...

[That prompts Eric to pull the mic away from Jason, catching the AWA
interviewer by surprise.]

EMS: Jason, there's plenty we aren't happy about... namely that, just
when we assert our spot on top, somebody else has to come along and act
like they rule the roost! Well, tonight, Rough N Ready is going to make
a statement that will leave no doubt in anyone's mind who is the best
damn tag team around!

[With that, he then tosses the mic back to Jason and walks off camera.
Dave then gives Jason a stern look.]

DC: Jason, you better remember the words Eric said about making a
statement... because believe me, a statement _will_ be made. A lot of
people may not like it, but that's just too bad.

[He then follows his partner off camera.]
 
JD: A statement... I can only guess what those two might be referring.
Now, let's hear from their challengers who are standing by with Mark
Stegglet!  Mark?

[We crossfade to another part of the backstage area where we see Mark
Stegglet
standing with the Stampede Cup winners and number one contenders to the
AWA National Tag Team Titles, Violence Unlimited. Jackson Haynes is
dressed in a floppy, tri-corner cowboy hat, a brown suede vest, and red
Confederate flag-style wrestling trunks. Morton is dressed in a red,
boxer's robe, with the hood pulled down over his eyes.]

MS: Violence Unlimited! Tonight, you face Rough N Ready in a much
anticipated rematch from the Stampede Cup finals. You were able to pull
out the win that time, but tonight, the stakes may even be higher, as
Rough N Ready's AWA tag team titles are on the line! Gentlemen, your
thoughts going into this match?

JH: My thoughts? Well my thoughts should be pretty obvious, Stegglet. I
_think_ that it's a dang joke that Cooper and Somers think they got any
legitimacy at being called the best tag team in world just 'cause they
won a plaque!

MS: Well, Rough N Ready did have a spectacular 2010, gentlemen. You
can't deny that.

[Haynes gives Stegglet the stink eye.]

JH: I ain't downplayin' any of their accomplishments, boy! You're right
when ya' say they had a great year...but last year was last year, and
what we're talkin' about is the here and now!

[Haynes whips off his cowboy hat and stares into the camera with a
wild-eyed glare.]

JH: And in the HERE and NOW, Violence Unlimited is the greatest tag team
in the world!  We were the greatest last week, the week before...and
every week SINCE we whupped Rough N Ready at the Stampede Cup! As far as
I'm concerned, Rough N Ready winning that award didn't change anything!

Ya' see, Stegglet, the difference 'tween us and Rough N Ready is that
they won a freakin' popularity contest while *we* won inside a wrasslin'
ring!

[Stegglet nods, acknowledging the point.]

JH: It doesn't matter how many family members they rounded up and how
many times they got Joe Petrow to text in his vote...facts are facts!
And the _fact_ is, Rough N Ready stepped into a wrasslin' ring with
Violence Unlimited as the greatest tag team in the world and they ended
up leaving it as anything BUT.

[Stegglet turns, offering the mic to Danny Morton.]

DM: Cooper and Somers think they can spook us just because every team
they've defended the tag team titles against got sent packing right
after. But what they need to realize, heck...what they should already
_know_ is that we're _not_ like any team they've ever faced!

[Morton throws off the hood of his boxing robe, staring right into the
camera.]

DM: Violence Unlimited proved it to you at the Cup and we'll prove it
again tonight!

[Morton grabs Stegglet by the wrist and looks around before yelling into
the mic...]

DM: WE'RE ROUGHER!

WE'RE TOUGHER!

And unlike you, boys...we're _ALWAYS_ ready for a fight!

[He slaps himself in the head a few times, before shaking it off and
screaming a primal scream, causing Mark Stegglet to possibly soil
himself.]

JH: You think you're puttin' the fear of God in us when you tell us how
many teams you've run outta' the AWA? You think scaring off a couple of
poofs is gonna' have us shakin' in our boots? You think we're worried at
all 'cause we got on your "bad side"!?

[Haynes chuckles.]

JH: Don't ya' get it?

[Morton pops his head in, laughing.]

DM: That's the only side of you that we wanna' see!

JH: Sure, right now, ya' got the belts and ya' got the hardware...

[A smug smirk slowly creeps on that ugly mug.]

JH: ...but WE got your number.

[Haynes cackles and places the cowboy hat back atop his head.]

JH: We'll see ya' in the ring, fellas.

[And with that, Violence Unlimited exit stage right, leaving Mark
Stegglet behind.]

JD: Violence Unlimited looking incredibly confident heading into their
match with the tag team champions!  And that match is next after this
quick commercial break!

[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!"

[Now a shot of Kolya Sudakov in a fighting pose with the belt hanging
over his shoulder.]

"You've seen the best the AWA has to offer wearing it!"

[A shot of Stevie Scott holding the belt high in the air.]

"And now, it can be yours!"

[A final shot of Juan Vasquez, battered yet triumphant with the gold
belt held in both hands 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 we come back up to backstage, in a joyful locker room.

Persian string music plays over a stereo as Adrian Bathwaite is having
tea served to his guests, on a round table that he's set up in the
middle of said locker room for little discernable reason (other than to
serve tea, I suppose).  A butler is pouring tea for Bathwaite, Ivan
Kostovich, Vladimir Velikov, Kolya Sudakov, and Sultan Azam Sharif. 
Four of the five above-mentioned people are in a good mood.  One guess
as to which one is not.

The managers are already seated at the table.  Velikov is just finishing
storing his ring gear in his bag... he's showered and dressed already. 
Kolya has done neither; he is seated away from the others at a bench
with a dour expression on his face.  Sharif is just now entering,
showered and half-dressed in a more traditional white sirwal than the
one he wears in the ring, and beaming with a big smile on his face.

Jason Dane has entered the room to conduct an interview.  He seems very
uncomfortable here.]

JD: Alright, here in the victorious locker room where earlier tonight,
the big Battle Royal was won by Sultan Azam Sharif!  Count Adrian
Bathwaite, you have to be pleased.

CAB: That's right!  Finally, we've seen the cream rise to the top, just
as it was always meant to be!  Comrade Ivan Kostovich is a man of great
honor and dignity, and working alongside him and his fine Russian
contingent has been tremendous.  Vladimir Velikov has still got it, and
anyone who says otherwise is blind.  Kolya Sudakov will do fine if he
keeps following orders.  But tonight belonged to my man, the Sultan! 
Tell them, Sultan-baby!

[Sharif is exuberant, his voice practically cracking with joy.]

SAS: Dank you, Mistair Count Batwaite un Mistair EE-von Kostovich,
shokran jazeelan!  Mistair Jahsun Dan, I alvays told you dot I vas gunna
be deh Battail Royal Shampwon, un now!  Memoryull Day Mah-hem, I gunna
valk outta dere vid my AWA Nashunul shampwonship motch like I said!  But
I gotta give dank you, shokran, to honoraible man!  Mistair Koolya
Sudukupff!

[Sharif turns to Kolya, who looks up at him with a bewildered
expression.  Though, to be fair, Sharif is used to that expression by
now.  He does talk a lot, after all.]

SAS: I vas confuse by vat you did, but Mistair Count Batwiate axplenn to
me vhy you uhlimunate youself.  He tell me dot you occidentully
uhliminated youself aerly in motch vid a illegul move, but deh ruferees,
dey diddunt see it!  So dot is vhy you showed honor an do deh right
thing ven you could have got avay vid sheating, un for dot now I know
you are man of honor!  Deh Sultan gonna make sure you get shampwonship
motch for AWA Nashnull title ven I vin it for sure!

[Sudakov stares at Sharif, appearing like he might be about to say
something.  But as he turns, he sees that Kostovich is now facing him,
staring right into his eyes.  Whatever Sudakov wanted to say, he has
decided better of it.  Instead, he simply waves off Sharif, walking away
from the party.]

SAS: A'jabani haqqan!  Mistair Jahsun Dan, dey gotta take a good look! 
Mistair Vladmir Velkupff, Mistair Koolya Sudukupff, un deh Sultan Azam
Sharif!  Ve gonna vin all deh shampwonships in AWA!  IRAN, NUMBAH VUN! 
ROOSHIA, NUMBAH VUN! CAMARAMAN, ZOOM IT!

[The Sultan begins posing as Jason Dane tries to follow the story...
looking to pursue the exiting Sudakov.]

JD: Kolya Sudakov, can I get your thoughts?

[Predictably, it isn't Kolya who answers that question.]

IK: No.

[Awkward pause.]

IK: And you and your cameraperson may show yourselves the door, Mr.
Dane.  This is a private celebration.

[Even more awkward pause.]

JD: That's all from here; back to you, Gordon.

[We fade back to the elevated announce position where our announcers are
standing.]

GM:  Well, that explains a lot.  They bamboozled Sultan Azam Sharif into
thinking that Sudakov HAD to eliminate himself because of some...
illegal move?  Give me a break, Bucky.

BW:  Huh?  Did you say something?

GM:  Are you not listening to me?

BW:  I'm having a hard time hearing because of the echo of the roaring
in my ears.

GM:  The roaring?

BW:  Yeah, didn't you hear how loud the crowd was during The Call Of The
Wilde?  That was a crowd that appreciates a REAL interview segment - not
that Money Pit garbage.  I just hope Michaelson got a chance to watch -
maybe he'll learn something.  I'm ten times the color commentator he
ever was and now I'm ten times the interview host as well!  Sorry, Toddy
Mike!  

GM:  Oh, brother.  Fans, it's tag team time here on The Main Event one
more time as we're about to see the National Tag Team Titles on the line
when Rough N Ready defends the gold against Violence Unlimited.  Let's
go down to Phil Watson for the introductions!

[We crossfade to the ring for those promised introductions.]

PW:  The following contest is a tag team match scheduled for one fall
with a thirty minute time limit and it is for the AWA National Tag Team
Titles!

[Big cheer!]

PW:  Introducing first... they are the challengers...

[Motley Crue's "Shout At The Devil" starts up to an enormous reaction
from the crowd.]

PW:  At a total combined weight of 595 pounds... they are the 2010
Stampede Cup Champions... Danny Morton... Jackson Haynes...

VIIIIIOLENNNNNCE UNNNNLIMMMITED!

[The crowd roars to life as Morton and Haynes step into view.  Haynes
yanks off his Stetson hat, firing it into the air as Morton stands in
his red, white, and blue robe, jogging in place for a moment before the
duo begins the long walk down the ramp towards the ring.]

GM:  These men are the #1 contenders and the 2010 Stampede Cup
Champions.  And by winning that tournament, we know they EARN the right
to call themselves the best tag team in the world, Bucky!

BW:  Yeah, but they're squaring off with the AWA National Tag Team
Champions and the 2010 Tag Team Of The Year.  With those credentials,
how are Rough N Ready not the best tag team in the world?

GM:  After tonight, we should know EXACTLY who the best tag team in the
world is!

[Morton and Haynes climb into the ring.  Morton pulls off his robe,
swinging it overhead, and throwing it out to the floor as he steps up to
the middle rope, sticking out his tongue in the direction of the ramp
with a big muscle pose!]

GM:  These two are fired up!  They've been waiting three months for this
one!  Ever since they beat the champions at the Stampede Cup, Violence
Unlimited has been waiting for this shot at the gold...

[The sounds of Motley Crue fade as Jackson Haynes steps up on the
midbuckle, waving his arm around in the air to fire up the crowd even
more as The Hammer glares down the aisle.  The music changes to Deep
Purple's "Knocking At Your Back Door" to a big mixed reaction.]

PW:  And their opponents... from Albuquerque, New Mexico... at a total
combined weight of 615 pounds... they are the AWA National Tag Team
Champions... Dave Cooper... Eric Matthew Somers...

ROUGH N REEEEAAAADYYYY!

[The mixed reaction grows louder as Cooper and Somers walk through the
curtain, title belts slung over their shoulders.  They're already
dressed for the ring - no fancy robes or hats or jackets - just their
ring tights as they slowly pace down the ramp.]

GM:  These two are all business both in and out of the ring, Bucky.

BW:  They certainly are.  And that's what makes them successful. 
They're not concerned about performing for the fans... not worried about
flipping around or showing off to make the people cheer.  They're
worried about doing whatever they need to do to win the match.

[As they reach the ring, Somers steps through first, pointing a warning
finger at Danny Morton who starts towards him, referee Marty Meekly
cutting him off physically.  Dave Cooper climbs through behind him,
glaring at Jackson Haynes who is pacing back and forth, waiting for the
bell to ring.  Cooper pulls his partner aside, speaking to him as Haynes
and Morton wait for the official to get out of their way.]

GM:  It looks like it'll be the big man, Eric Matthew Somers, starting
it out for his team... and on the other side, Professor Pain, Danny
Morton!

[Haynes and Cooper exit the ring as the referee spins, calling for the
bell to start the match.]

GM:  Here we go!

[Somers stalks out to the center of the ring, pointing a finger at Danny
Morton, and then slapping himself across the chest.]

GM:  I think Eric Matthew Somers just challenged Danny Morton to try and
knock him down!

BW:  He may regret that one, daddy.

[A grinning Morton nods his head, stepping up to Somers.  The two men
stand toe to toe for a moment, words flying in both directions...

...when suddenly Morton rears back and pops Somers with a right hand on
the jaw!]

GM:  Big right hand!

[The crowd roars as Morton throws a few more to the button, staggering
Somers...

...and then breaking into a sprint, rebounding off the ropes!]

GM:  BOOOM!  BIG SHOULDER TACKLE!!

[The running football tackle knocks Somers a step or two back from his
spot...

...but does not take him down.  Somers steps up, nodding his head,
smashing his fists into his chest, and shouting for Morton to try it
again!]

GM:  He wants some more!  Eric Matthew Somers wants to see what else
Danny Morton's got!

[Shaking his head, Morton dashes to the ropes again, rebounding off once
more...

...and throwing himself into a big tackle!]

GM:  Somers staggers...

BW:  ...but doesn't fall!  He doesn't fall!

[Somers falls back a couple steps, wobbling a bit.  He points at Morton
through, calling for it again.  Danny Morton shakes his head, racing to
the ropes...]

GM:  Morton off the ropes...

[This time, Somers tries to cheapshot him with a clothesline but Morton
is waiting for it, ducking under to hit the far side, bouncing off the
far ropes...]

GM:  Off the far side...

[The barrel-chested big man from Oklahoma leaves his feet, smashing his
shoulder into the off-balance Somers...

...and KNOCKING HIM FLAT!  BIG CHEER!]

GM:  MORTON KNOCKS HIM DOWN!!!

[The American Murder Machine springs to his feet, doing a quick high
step in place.  He points out to the cheering fans, dropping into a
three-point stance...

...and then charges across the ring as Somers stirs, knocking him flat
against with a running clothesline!]

GM:  DOWN GOES SOMERS AGAIN!!

BW:  I don't think I've ever seen Eric Matthew Somers knocked flat TWICE
that quickly!  Danny Morton is a machine!

[Morton crouches, wiggling his fingers as he waits for Somers to rise,
trying to position himself behind the big man...

...and as the 6'9 Somers climbs to his feet, Morton rushes forward to
wrap his arms around the big man's waist!]

GM:  BACKDROP DRIV-

[But before Morton can hoist Somers off the mat, the bigger man smashes
his elbow down on the back of Morton's neck.  Spinning his body, Somers
crashes a knee up into Morton's face with a thunderous kneelift that
knocks Morton down to the canvas...

...and then takes flight, dropping a 350 pound elbow across the chest!]

GM:  Ohhh!  Good grief! 

BW:  That's the kind of thing that'll cave in a sternum!

[Somers gets to his feet quickly, dragging Morton by the ankle to the
corner where he slaps the hand of Dave Cooper.]

GM:  In comes Cooper...

[And he promptly goes up to the middle rope, leaping off to smash an
elbow across the extended leg being stretched out by Somers.]

GM:  Ohh!  Nice elbowdrop down across the knee!

[Cooper promptly drags Morton up to his feet, shoving Morton back into
the Rough N Ready corner before throwing two hooking blows to the
ribcage.  He grabs Morton by the arm, executing a full armtwist,
torquing the limb to the max as he pushes his foot down on the back of
Morton's knee, forcing him down to the mat.]

GM:  Cooper's got a-hold of that arm, really twistin' it good...

[Cooper switches into an armbar, moving behind Morton with a straddle as
he stretches the arm against the grain, leaning on the Oklahoma native's
back to push Morton down to both knees.]

GM:  Dave Cooper's got a good position on the armbar, trying to wear on
it a bit.

BW:  A sound strategy when you're facing a power guy like Morton.  Take
away his ability to lift people up and you take away his ability to
throw people up, down, and all around.

[Cooper forces Morton down to his stomach, dropping into a kneeling
position as he torques the arm, shouting, "Ask 'im, ref!"  The referee
quickly does that but Morton shouts a negative response.]

GM:  Morton won't quit...

[Dave Cooper pushes the arm down to the mat, pinning it down...

...and leaps up, dropping a knee on the tricep.  He slips the knee into
the shoulder joint, pulling the arm up against his planted knee!]

GM:  Dave Cooper is the kind of competitor who really excels at breaking
someone down physically, Bucky.

BW:  He is.  And if you've followed the career of Dave Cooper, you'd
know that he has some of the best submission skills in the sport.  He
just rarely gets a chance to showcase that because Somers is a pure
power guy.  They usually look for high impact rather this kind of
physical dissection of an opponent.

[Cooper shouts as he pulls hard on the wrist, screaming for Morton to
quit.]

GM:  The referee's checking again - no submission though.  Danny
Morton's not about to submit away their shot at the National Tag Team
Titles unless that arm comes right off.

[Pulling Morton up to his feet, Cooper executes an armtwist before
making the tag to Somers who steps in, smashing an elbow down across the
tricep.]

GM:  A quick tag to Eric Matthew Somers... and you have to wonder if he
can keep up the attack on the arm...

[Holding the wrist, Somers wheels Morton around to hurl him into the
corner, rushing in behind him...]

GM:  AVALAN-

[The crowd roars as Danny Morton dives out of the way, causing Somers to
charge chestfirst into the corner!]

GM:  HE MISSED!  HE MISSED!

[Morton falls to all fours, crawling across the ring towards his
partner...

...but Eric Matthew Somers charges forward, leaping up to drop a big
elbow across the back of the head to cut off a potential tag!  Somers
pushes up to a knee...]

GM:  Morton got close but not close enough!

[A frustrated Jackson Haynes smashes a hand into the top turnbuckle in
frustration, pacing back and forth on the apron...

...and then Somers leans up and SPITS right in Haynes' face!]


"OHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"


[A furious Haynes charges through the ropes, looking to bring the
pain...

...but the official jumps in, blocking his path!]

GM:  Oh, come on, referee!

[With the referee distracted, Dave Cooper rushes in, grabbing Morton by
the ankle and dragging him back to the Rough N Ready side of the ring
before stepping back out as Somers stalks towards the downed Morton.]

GM:  Turn around, ref!  Keep your eyes open!

BW:  Hey, that was all Jackson Haynes' fault!  The Hammer came in and
distracted the ref!

[Somers pulls Morton off the mat, shoving him back to the corner.  The
big man lunges forward, smashing a knee into the midsection.  Winding up
with both big arms, he smashes them down across the back, knocking
Morton flat to the mat again...

...and then slaps the hand of Dave Cooper who promptly drops down to the
floor, reaching under the arms to drag Morton's left arm out over the
edge of the apron!]

GM:  No, no, no!

[Cooper lifts Morton's left arm high...

...and SLAMS the arm down on the edge of the apron!]

GM:  Ohh!  The arm got slammed down on the hardest part of the ring!

[Referee Marty Meekly is right there to shout at Cooper, ordering him to
get back into the ring...

...but Cooper ignores him, SLAMMING Morton's arm down on the apron
again!]

GM:  Come on, ref!

BW:  Hey, there's nothing illegal about that!

GM:  I'm sure I could find something in the rulebook about it.

[Rolling back into the ring, Cooper grabs Morton by the foot, hauling
him back out to the middle of the ring...

...and stomping the shoulder of Danny Morton!]

GM:  Simple but effective.

[A few more stomps land before Cooper kneels down on the arm again,
again bending it against the grain using his knee as the pivot point. 
The referee is immediately down to a knee, asking Danny Morton if he
wants to give it up.]

GM:  Cooper's really stretching out that arm, trying to get Morton to
quit.

BW:  And if Rough N Ready gets Danny Morton to submit, then they would
cement themselves as the best tag team in the world - bar none!  There
won't even be any competition!

[As Morton screams, refusing to quit, Cooper stands up, holding the
wrist...

...and kicks the arm once, twice, three times!]

GM:  Good grief!  Three hard kicks to the arm!

[Cooper hauls Morton off the mat, shoving Morton back against the
ropes...

...and POPS him with a right hand!]

GM:  Big shot by Coop- ohh!  Morton fires back!

[Cooper throws another one, catching Morton on the jaw!]

GM:  Anoth- 

[Morton fires a haymaker of his own with his right arm, stunning Cooper.
 A second one connects... and a third sends Cooper stumbling backwards. 
Morton steps forward, grabbing Cooper by the arm, and flinging him
towards the ropes...]

GM:  Whip...

[Morton rushes forward, leaping up for a dropkick...

...but Cooper steps aside, causing Morton to smash down on the mat,
landing on his injured arm!]

GM:  OHHH!

[Cooper promptly pins the arm down to the mat, kneeling on it...

...and smashes Morton in the skull with a trio of right hands before
shoving him back down to the mat.]

GM:  Good grief!  Dave Cooper is absolutely relentless in there!

[Cooper gets up off the arm...

...and stomps the bicep as hard as he can!]

GM:  Ahhhh... these fans are getting on Cooper's case now.

BW:  Who cares?  Look at the extent of the damage he's done to Morton's
arm!

[Pulling Morton to his feet, Cooper tucks the arm in behind him with a
hammerlock before scooping him up...

...and slamming him down on his own arm!]

GM:  Hammerlock slam!  And Cooper with a cover!

[The technician makes the cover while Morton's arm is still trapped
beneath him.]

GM:  ONE!!  TWO!!  

[But Morton manages to get out at two, wriggling his arm out from under
him to assist with the kickout.  Cooper grabs the injured arm, twisting
it again as he drags him back to the corner and slaps the hand of Eric
Matthew Somers.]

GM:  In comes the big man...

[Somers lashes out with a big boot, smacking into the twisted arm!]

GM:  Ohh!  What a shot!

[Grabbing the stunned Morton, Somers powers him up over his shoulder...

...and then brings the injured shoulder down onto his bent knee!]

GM:  Shoulderbreaker!  And there's a cover!

[Meekly dives to the mat to count.]

GM:  ONE!!  TWO!!  TH-

[Morton fires a shoulder up, the good shoulder, before the three count
can come down.  Somers argues with the official briefly, questioning the
speed of the count as he climbs to his feet, dragging Morton up with
him...]

GM:  Somers grabs the arm for a big whip...

[And Morton comes sprinting off the ropes, throwing himself into a
dropkick that catches Somers on the button, sending him stumbling away! 
Big cheer!]

GM:  Morton caught him!  Danny Morton bought himself some time there!

[Somers quickly recovers, stalking towards him...

...and Morton drops down, crawling quickly between the legs of a
surprised Eric Matthew Somers, lunging to slap the hand of Jackson
Haynes!]

GM:  TAG!!  THERE'S THE TAG!!

[The Hammer breaks through the ropes, barreling across the ring...

...and drilling a stunned Somers with a running clothesline!  The crowd
roars as Haynes bounces off, drilling Dave Cooper with a right hand that
knocks him down off the apron to the floor!]

GM:  Jackson Haynes is on fire!

[Spinning around, Haynes throws a big right hand at the staggered
Somers.  Squaring up, Haynes throws a series of picture-perfect right
and left jabs on the jaw!]

GM:  He looks like a heavyweight boxer in there!

[Grabbing Somers by the back of the head, Haynes rears way back and
ROCKS Somers with a left haymaker between the eyes that sends the big
man falling back into the turnbuckles!]

GM:  The Hammer gets laid in on Somers!

[With Somers dazed, Haynes hurls him across the ring, charging across...

...and CONNECTING with a big running clothesline in the corner!]

GM:  OHHHHHHH!

[Grabbing the arm again, he flings Somers across the ring, charging
behind him...

...and connects with another big running clothesline!]

GM:  TWO BIG CLOTHESLINES!!

[Haynes lets loose a mighty bellow as he whips Somers across the ring to
the neutral corner a third time, watching him as he hits the buckles
hard and staggers out...

...into the waiting arms of Jackson Haynes who somehow powers the 350
pounder up over his shoulder, pausing for a moment...]


"THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD!"
"OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"


GM:  STANDING SPINEBUSTER!!  MY STARS!!!

[Haynes drops down into a cover on Somers whose head just bounced off
the canvas.]

GM:  ONE!!  TWO!!  

[But the big blow isn't enough to fell the big man, Somers kicking out
before the three count comes down...

...and suddenly the crowd breaks out in jeers!]

GM:  What the heck?

[The jeers are aimed right at Joe Petrow, stalking down the ramp angrily
towards the ring.  He gets to the ring very quickly, standing on the
ramp and shouting at the official from inside the ring where Jackson
Haynes gets up, pointing a warning finger at Petrow...]

GM:  We've seen this before, Bucky!  The night that Rough N Ready won
the National Tag Team Titles, we saw this!  Joe Petrow was at ringside
that night too!

BW:  That was a different Joe Petrow!  That was a man selling his
services to the highest bidder.  This Joe Petrow has a purpose - he has
a mission!  He's all about respect!

[Haynes is shouting at Petrow, drawing closer as Joe Petrow continues to
shout at the official...

...which provides a momentary distraction that allows Dave Cooper to tag
himself back into the ring, racing in and throwing himself at the back
of Jackson Haynes' knee!]

GM:  OHH!  HE CLIPPED HIM!!  HE CLIPPED THE HAMMER!!

[Cooper promptly places his knee against Haynes', leaping up to drive
the Hammer's knee into the canvas!]

GM:  Ohh!  That's an easy way to tear out a knee!

[The official orders Petrow down to the floor where he reluctantly goes
as Cooper continues to twist the leg around his own, bending and
stretching the ligaments in the Hammer's knee.]

GM:  Cooper's trying to tear that knee out...

[Getting to his feet, Cooper yanks the foot hard, stretching the leg to
a shout of pain of Haynes.  He pulls it again, shouting at the official
to ask him... but Haynes refuses to quit.  Shaking his head, Cooper
executes a spinning toehold, screaming for the referee to ask him...

...but Haynes reaches up, hooking Cooper by the head and dragging him
down into an inside cradle!]

GM:  CRADLE!!  ONE!!  TWO!!  THR-

[But to the exasperation of the crowd, Dave Cooper gets a shoulder off
the mat just before the three count can come down.]

GM:  So close!  So close right there!  

BW:  And Dave Cooper needs to be careful.  If you remember, it was a
situation just like that that cost Rough N Ready the Stampede Cup back
in December.  Morton rolled up Cooper while he was going for the
Cloverleaf.  It almost happened again right there.

[Which explains why Dave Cooper is furious when he gets to his feet,
immediately kicking Haynes' leg out from under him as he tries to get
up.  Cooper launches into a series of stomps and kicks to the injured
knee.  He pins the ankle down with his foot, leaping up to drop a knee
across the hobbled limb!]  

GM:  Ohh!

[With his knee pinning down Haynes' knee, Cooper yanks up on the ankle,
bending the leg around his knee.]

GM:  He's trying to stretch out the knee!  Cooper's worked over the arm
of Danny Morton and now we see him working over the leg of Jackson
Haynes... 

[Cooper rises, pulling Haynes towards the corner where he slaps the hand
of his partner...

...and drops down, holding the leg down on the mat.]

GM:  Oh no... no, he can't do this!

[Somers backs into the ropes, slow walking off...

...and LEAPS up, dropping 350 pounds down on the injured leg!]

GM:  OHHHHH!

BW:  That's it, Gordo!  Ring the bell right there!  He ain't gettin' up
from that!

[Somers rolls into a lateral press as Cooper exits the ring.]

GM:  ONE!!  TWO!!  THR-

[But a diving save by Danny Morton breaks up the pin attempt!]

GM:  Ohh!  Danny Morton saved his partner right there!  He knew that
Haynes was in trouble after the big splash on the leg and he just bailed
him out!  Dave Cooper engineered that big drop on the leg... he could've
torn out Jackson Haynes' knee with that...

[Outside the ring, Joe Petrow just eyes the action, stroking his chin as
he observes the match.  Somers pushes up to his knees, slapping the hand
of Dave Cooper once more.]

GM:  Cooper's back in right away... 

[Grabbing the injured leg, Cooper ties it up...

...and falls back, applying a figure four leglock!]

GM:  Figure four!  He locks it in!

[Jackson Haynes cries out in pain, having just had 350 pounds dropped
down on his knee moments earlier.  The referee kneels down next to him,
repeatedly asking if he wants to quit but the Hammer refuses every
time.]

GM:  Haynes won't give it up, Bucky!

BW:  He may not have a choice.  That knee may have every ligament in it
ripped out.  That big splash on the leg was an incredibly dangerous
move.

GM:  Cooper rocking back and forth, putting the pressure on full on the
leg!

[Haynes screams out in pain again as Cooper grits his teeth, rocking
back and forth.]

GM:  You may be right, Bucky!  Can Jackson Haynes hang on?  Can he avoid
giving this thing up?  He's screaming every time the pressure gets
turned up a notch.

[Having seen enough, Danny Morton enters the ring, dropping his right
elbow down across Cooper's chest to break the hold.  The referee quickly
forces Morton from the ring as Cooper gets up, pointing a finger at
Morton as he reaches down to haul the gimpy Haynes back to his feet.]

GM:  Cooper to the ropes...

[A rushing haymaker comes up empty as Haynes ducks down, picking the
champion up across his massive shoulders...

...and FALLS BACK!]


"THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD!"


GM:  SAMOAN DROP!!  HAYNES WITH A DESPERATION COUNTER!!

[And down on the mat, grimacing in pain, the Hammer begins crawling
across the ring again...

...and SLAPS the hand of Danny Morton just as Cooper stirs to his feet!]

GM:  IN COMES MORTON!!

[The rampaging Professor Pain floors Cooper with a running clothesline. 
He waits a moment and then hits Cooper with a second big clothesline. 
Morton stops in his tracks, hammering his chest with his fists...]

GM:  Danny Morton has got Cooper down...

[And the crowd ROARS as he throws a big right hand that catches Eric
Matthew Somers on the ear, stunning him before a big headbutt sends
Somers down to a knee on the apron!]

GM:  Morton takes down Somers as well!

[Morton grabs the recovering Cooper by the arm, firing him into the
corner...

...and charging in after him!]

GM:  OHHHHH!

[The crowd echoes Gordon's response as Eric Matthew Somers reaches in,
pulling his partner to safety by the arm, and causing Morton to slam
shoulderfirst into the turnbuckles!  Somers slaps the hand of Cooper,
tagging himself in...]

GM:  Somers is in!

[Moving swiftly, Somers buries three big shoulders in the ribcage of the
cornered Morton before hurling him across the ring...

...and crushing him against the buckles with a running clothesline!]

GM:  Big shot in the corner!

[As Morton stumbles out, Somers goes to scoop him up...

...but Morton flips out the backside, landing on his feet behind Somers.
 And as the big man turns around...]

GM:  MORTON!!

[The crowd ERUPTS as Morton leans down, hoisting the 350 pound Somers up
into the air across his chest.  He struggles with the weight, trying to
position him as he charges forward, smashing Somers' back into the
buckles!]

GM:  OHH!  INTO THE CORNER!!!

[At this point, Joe Petrow leaps up on the apron, shouting at the
official, drawing him near as Morton stumbles out of the corner, his arm
finally giving out as he collapses on top of Somers in a sloppy
powerslam!]

GM:  POWERSLAM!!  POWERSLAM!!  

[Morton hooks the leg of the big man as the crowd begins to count...

...but the official is tied up with a shouting Joe Petrow who manages to
underhand something into the ring without the referee's notice.]

GM:  What the-?!

BW:  Petrow threw something in!

GM:  What is it?  I can't tell what it is!

[Dave Cooper rolls back in, grabbing the object off the mat, staying
down on all fours as a frustrated Danny Morton gets up, shouting at the
official.  He moves in on the downed Cooper...

...who bursts up, POPPING Morton on the jaw!]

GM:  OHH!  HE HIT MORTON WITH THAT OBJECT!!

[Danny Morton falls flat, dead to the world from whatever he just got
hit with.  Grabbing his partner's arm, Cooper rolls Somers atop Danny
Morton...

...and then dives to the corner, preventing Jackson Haynes from coming
in as the referee spins around, diving to the mat!]

GM:  ONE!!  TWO!!  AHHHH!  NOT LIKE THIS!


"DING!  DING!  DING!"


BW:  They did it, Gordo!  Rough N Ready are the best tag team in the
world!

GM:  Thanks to Joe Petrow!

BW:  Joe Petrow helped them win the titles - it's only fitting he helps
them keep them here tonight in Dallas!  I love it!

[Cooper springs to his feet, throwing his arms in the air to celebrate
the victory.  Jackson Haynes shoves past him, dropping to his partner's
side who is absolutely out cold from the weapon shot.  A furious Haynes
gets up, shouting at the official who has no idea what he's talking
about...

...and then charging Dave Cooper!]

GM:  Whoa!  Whoa!

[The Hammer begins throwing big punches, battering Cooper back against
the ropes.  The big haymakers continue to land, staggering one-half of
the still-National Tag Team Champions...

...when suddenly Joe Petrow runs in, steel chair in hand!]

GM:  PETROW!!  HE'S GOT A CHAIR!!

[But Haynes spins around, catching the chair as it's coming for his
head!]

GM:  HE BLOCKS IT!

[Haynes rips the chair out of Petrow's hands, turning it around and
stalking towards Joe Petrow with it.  The former World Champion
backpedals, pleading for mercy as the Hammer approaches with the
chair...

...which gives Dave Cooper enough time to charge again, again clipping
Haynes' knee out from under him!]

GM:  Ohh!  Cooper goes for the knee again!

[With Petrow shouting encouragement, Cooper stomps and kicks at Haynes'
injured knee as Eric Matthew Somers slowly gets to his feet.  Somers
joins in on the attack, stomping Haynes into the canvas as Petrow rips a
mic out of the hands of Phil Watson...]

JP:  Allow me!  Your winners of the match... still the National Tag Team
Champions... STILL the best tag team in the world... DAVE COOPER!  ERIC
MATTHEW SOMERS!  ROUGH!  N!  READY!

[The crowd jeers Petrow's announcement as Cooper and Somers continue to
batter the downed Jackson Haynes with stomps.  Petrow, mic in hand,
starts shouting at the crowd.]

JP: Yeah, I know Rough & Ready are teaching these punks a lesson right
now, but pay attention to _me_. Thirteen _years_ ago, Bobby Taylor
received one of the clearest and most striking explanations of respect
ever given.  Yet last week, we hear that he's spreading some more money
around to try and _buy_ some respect for the AWA, tried to _buy_ this
organization out of the gutter.  Bobby Taylor still hasn't learned that
you do not buy respect, you _earn_ it.  So if _Bobby Taylor_ of all
people couldn't learn his lesson in thirteen years, then I don't feel so
bad about my failings these past few months.

[Petrow lays in a few boots to the side of the motionless Danny Morton
as Cooper grabs Haynes' injured leg, rolling him over into a half Boston
Crab and pulling back hard on the limb!]

JP: You'll have to admit that I tried!  I tried to educate you people
about respect!  I tried to show you why the Hall of Fame legend deserves
it, why _I_ deserve it!  I've done everything in my power to prevent
what must happen now!  I realize that I can't do this alone, so I've
asked two men that I know and trust to lend me their strength for a
higher purpose!  Right now, Dave Cooper and Eric Matthew Somers are
teaching these goofs that respect doesn't come from a fluke pinfall in a
tournament!  It takes _years_ of sacrifice and self-discipline, and
_years_ of domination to prove that you are no flash in the pan!

[Somers slaps his partner on the shoulder before moving to drag Danny
Morton's limp body off the mat.  Cooper breaks up the half crab, hopping
up on the middle rope as Somers hooks Morton around the head and neck,
hoisting him high into the air...

...and DRIVING him down with a thunderous uranage slam just a moment
before Cooper leaps off the second rope with a crushing kneedrop to the
skull!  Petrow applauds wildly, shouting encouragement off mic for a
moment.  The crowd jeers the attacking trio wildly, screaming derision
in their direction.]

JP: These men are two of the royalty of wrestling, the AWA National
Tag-Team champions, and the greatest tag team of our time!  And yet now,
you people are booing them in their finest hour.  I can't allow this! 
We _won't_ allow this!  We _will_ bring _respect_ and MORALITY back into
your lives!  And tonight, we're going to teach you all how it's going to
be done!

[Moving back to the hobbled Haynes, Somers yanks him up by the throat,
grabbing him around the head and neck once more as Cooper takes his spot
on the second rope...

...and hoists him high, driving him down as Cooper lands the kneedrop
again - finishing the move known as Rough Housing that used to bring the
fans to their feet with joy.  Now, it drives them crazy with anger. 
Petrow smirks at the carnage throughout the ring, nodding his head with
approval.]

JP: Are you finished, gentlemen?  Excellent.  Of course, when you speak
of royality, you _must_ speak of the king.  And now it is time for these
two down here [points towards the fallen VU members] to pay the proper
respect to the KING of wrestling, the AWA's _only_ undefeated Hall of
Fame Legend, MARK LANGSETH!!!

[A group of men quickly proceed to roll out the only thing proper for a
man of royalty to walk on to a coronation... the red carpet! The crowd's
properly upset at this showing as Violence Unlimited continues to get
beaten down by Petrow, Cooper, and Somers.

The crowd's boos rise even higher as the Hall of Famer himself, Mark
Langseth, steps into the Crockett Coliseum. Wearing a nice pair of black
slacks, purple dress shirt, a black tie, and a pair of black oxfords,
Langseth's sporting a modern take on the royal wear. As he walks down
the carpeted aisle, Langseth nods in agreement at the sight he watches
in the ring.

As Cooper and Somers keep VU at bay, Langseth steps through the ring
ropes and looks down at Violence Unlimited as Rough N Ready keep them
down.]

ML: Look at you...

[Langseth narrows his eyes down at Danny Morton.]

ML: Look at you two common rats... Don't you two know who I am?!? How -

[Langseth spits to the side of Morton, just missing him.]

ML: I'm the man who's better than you! And BETTER than you!

[As Mark tries to aim for Jackson Haynes, the VU member tries a
desperate lunge at Langseth, who backs off with a bit of shock & fear in
his eyes - until, that is, a swift kick catches the back of Haynes' head
thanks to Dave Cooper. Langseth emphatically lays in the broadside of
his oxfords for good measure.]

ML: How DARE you?! Hold him down!

[As Petrow and Cooper make sure the defiant and exhausted Haynes is
secure, Langseth grinds the bottom of his oxfords on the face with
glee.]

ML: That's your place! Like a slick of mud trapped on the bottom of my
shoe! Dirt! You're all just -

[Langseth - after seeing Somers securing Morton - washes the bottom of
his other shoe with Morton's face.]

ML: Trash! But you -

[The fans interrupt Langseth with a loud rise of boos, not wanting to
see any more of these shenanigans.]

ML: BUT you can redeem yourself! And I'll - we'll forgive you! We'll
even -

[Langseth nods to Cooper, Somers, and Petrow.]

ML: We'll let you go... Just... You have to do as Mr. Petrow said... You
have to pay me my PROPER respect!

[As Langseth takes out his pocket square and bends down to shine his
right shoe, it's becoming a bit clearer what "pay a proper respect"
means. It's becomes crystal clear when Langseth stands and stomps that
shoe forward towards VU.]

GM: This is ridiculous! This is uncalled for! Can we get someone out
here? There's no need for this at all!

BW: Gordo, these two idiots have their out! They can leave anytime they
want, just got to pay the price!

[Langseth taps his foot down and yells at Violence Unlimited to kiss his
shoes, but both men still have enough fight left in them to try to
refuse as the crowd pops. But their struggle is short lived as Somers,
Cooper, and Petrow all lay into the fan favorites.

Unable to fight back anymore or even resist, Somers shoves Haynes' face
into the shined up oxford shoe of Mark Langseth, bringing a smile to the
face of the Hall of Famer.]

GM: This is disgusting! How can anyone - any of these four men - even
think of stooping this low?

BW: Maybe VU brought it on themselves, Gordo. Maybe they deserve this.

GM: I don't know how you can justify this embarrassment!

[The crowd's ravenous now, shouting, yelling and throwing their voices
to try to help stop this act... but it's for naught as Petrow and Cooper
shove Morton's face into the stretched out shoe of Mark Langseth -
bringing an even bigger grin on the face of the Hall of Famer.]

GM:  These sick... I can't believe that Somers and Cooper would
associate themselves with these two!  We've known them for years, Bucky!
 The Rough N Ready I've known all these years would NEVER do something
like this - never!

BW:  It's a new day - a new age for Rough N Ready... a ROYAL age!

GM:  Mark Langseth just made the members of Violence Unlimited kiss his
feet with the aid of Joe Petrow and the National Tag Team Champions...
and what in the world are Danny Morton and Jackson Haynes gonna do when
they're able to get up?!

[The four men stand in the middle of the ring, looking down at the two
unconscious members of Violence Unlimited, with their hands held aloft
as the crowd violently jeers them all.]

GM:  This is disgusting.  These four make me sick, fans.

[A look of utter arrogance on the faces of Mark Langseth and Joe Petrow
is the last thing we see before 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!"

[Now a shot of Kolya Sudakov in a fighting pose with the belt hanging
over his shoulder.]

"You've seen the best the AWA has to offer wearing it!"

[A shot of Stevie Scott holding the belt high in the air.]

"And now, it can be yours!"

[A final shot of Juan Vasquez, battered yet triumphant with the gold
belt held in both hands 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 we come back up to footage marked "EARLIER TODAY!" and to
Mark Stegglet who is standing by with a smirking, bespectacled Louis
Matsui, dressed in a dark blue suit, lavender shirt and red tie.]

MS: Tonight, MAMMOTH Mizusawa challenges Juan Vasquez for the National
Championship. I was hoping to ask the challenger a few questions, but
Louis Matsui has informed me that MAMMOTH needs to prepare for the match
and will not be doing any interviews until after the referee raises his
hand and he is declared the winner and new National Champion tonight.

LM: That's right, Stegglet. [Holding up his right index finger.]  First,
anything you need to ask my client, you can ask me. With the demise of
the Southern Syndicate and the Blonde Bombers having been run out of
town, I am the most coveted manager around here, especially after
tonight when my client brings the National title home to the Matsui
Corporation.

[He holds up another finger on his right hand.]

LM: Second, yes, Mizusawa-san needs the time to prepare for what will
surely be an epic championship bout. You see, we don't want people
thinking that my client's overestimating his chances against the current
National champion. Do not think that we are taking this match anything
but seriously! Mizusawa has had a lot on his mind these past couple of
days, what with the national tragedy back home. And despite being
American myself, I have also been busy co-ordinating relief efforts on
the part of the Matsui Corporation. But the show must go on and the
biggest match for my client and me takes place tonight, so, damn right
MAMMOTH Mizusawa has got a lot to prepare for. After all, we know what
Vasquez is capable of...

[Matsui's voice drifts off, to Stegglet's puzzlement.]

MS: Louis?

LM: Oh, wait... Just what exactly is our John-boy capable of?

MS: I'm not getting you...

LM: I mean, we've seen Johnny Vasquez throw everything but the kitchen
sink at my client, but nothing he's got in his arsenal has been able to
keep my monster down. Vasquez might be Wrestler of the Year, he might be
the National champion, for now, but he's not the National Guard, is he?
Tonight, Stegglet, Juan Vasquez will suffer the same fate as Broussard,
Rhodes and his Wrestler of the Year trophy; he will be beaten, he will
be broken and a new champion shall be crowned. The Age of the Giant that
I have been promising all of you begins...
Tonight!

[With that, we cut to a shot of Juan Vasquez also marked "EARLIER
TONIGHT!" as he is seated in his dressing room. The AWA National
champion is already dressed in his trademark white tracksuit w/ black
trim. Beside him on the bench is the AWA National title. His tracksuit
jacket is partially unzipped, revealing the taped ribs underneath, a
result of the beating he took from MAMMOTH Mizusawa the show before.
Juan's sleeves are rolled up, as he's busy taping up his fists. His head
remains down, wrapping the tape around his right hand as he begins to
speak.]

JV: We all know the story on MAMMOTH Mizusawa, don't we? The man ain't
ever been suplexed, slammed, or overpowered.

[Juan frowns and shakes his head.]

JV: Well, one thing's for certain...after this match, he still would've
gone through his entire career without being suplexed, slammed, or
overpowered. I can play enough tricks on my mind to convince my body to
do all sorts of amazing and impossible things...but tossing around a 450
lbs man ain't one of'em.

[A shrug.]

JV:  So if I can't suplex or slam him, what *can* I do to him?

[He puts the tape down and looks up with a grin.]

JV: I can hurt him.

[Juan tries to sit up straight, but winces. He holds his ribs, still
sore from the punishment they took from Mizusawa and Johnny Casanova.]

JV: I might not be about to crack ribs like he does or end careers...but
I've seen it with my own eyes and done it with my fists.

I've _hurt_ him.

[He stares at his half-taped fist and makes a sad sort of smirk, almost
as if he's not sure about himself.]

JV: It probably seems impossible after we've seen him put Marcus
Broussard outta' commission and Raph on the shelf...after we saw him
take my best shot with a smile...but I _know_ I can takedown Mizusawa!

[He clenches his fists and nods silently to himself, pumping himself
up.]

JV: After all...MAMMOTH might never have been suplexed, slammed or
overpowered, but one man *has* made him bleed.

[He points a thumb to his chest.]

JV: Me.

[Juan lowers his head and chuckles softly.]

JV: Louis Matsui might not think much of my chances against his boy.
Some people out there probably doubt I'd be much of a challenge. They
might look across that ring and just see the same seven-foot monster
that put me through a wall...

[He stops and shakes his head at that memory.]

JV: ...but I'm the same crazy fool that got crawled outta' that wreckage
and got right back up! I've never backed down and I've never ran from a
single damn thing that's ever stood in my way. So what if I can't lift
him? So what if I can't throw him? So what If he's busted my ribs, broke
my trophy and put countless men in the hospital???

[Juan pulls his earlobe.]

JV: Listen up and listen good, people!

[Cupping his mouth, Juan shouts it to the heavens!]

JV: JUAN VASQUEZ IS GONNA WIN!

[He looks back into the camera with a grin.]

JV: Ya' hear me, Matsui!?

[He points a finger towards the screen, emphasizing each word with a
poke.]

JV: Juan. Vasquez. Is. Going. To. _WIN._

[He backs off a bit, laughing to himself.]

JV: You probably think I'm being crazy. You probably think it's
impossible. You probably think that there's no way, no how, not in a
million years in any single possible scenario that Juan Vasquez can
possibly succeed. Well...

[A chuckle.]

JV: ...when the hell did that ever stop me before?

[And with that, we crossfade to the ring where ring announcer Phil
Watson is ready to get going one more time.]

PW:  Ladies and gentlemen... it is now time for our MAIN EVENT of the
evening!  It is scheduled for one fall with a sixty minute time limit
and is for the AWA National Title!

[Huge cheer!  Watson lowers the mic as Tomoyasu Hotei's "Battle Without
Honor or Humanity" starts to play over the arena speakers. Louis Matsui
emerges with a smirk from the entranceway, but there is no sign of the
giant. Matsui ignores the jeers from the crowd as he makes his way
towards the ring. He steps through the ropes, approaches Phil Watson and
we see him say something to the ring announcer. Watson looks a little
confused, but nods and raises the mic to his mouth.]

PW: Ladies and gentlemen, Louis Matsui has asked, in a show of respect
for the victims of the tragedy in Japan and a gesture of solidarity with
the Japanese people, would you please rise for the Japanese national
anthem.

[There is a smattering of boos, but the rest of the crowd are hushed and
seem unsure of how to respond. "Kimigayo," the Japanese national anthem
starts to play. The seven-footer emerges, but he is not scowling. If
anything, his face betrays very little emotion. Mizusawa carries in his
hand a flag pole, with the Japanese flag at the end, which he waves
along to the song. In addition to his usual attire of black singlet,
black knee pads and black boots, he also has a black armbound around his
left arm.

Resting the flag pole on his shoulder, MAMMOTH Mizusawa makes his way
slowly to the ring. He steps over the top rope and heads to his corner,
resting the flag pole against the corner turnbuckle. As the song fades
to an end, Mizusawa takes a couple of steps back and bows towards the
flag. He then turns to Louis Matsui and bows to his manager, who returns
the gesture. Matsui pats his charge on his
shoulder as he gives him some final instructions while they await the
arrival of the champion.

And that arrival comes as "They Reminisce Over You" by Pete Rock and CL
Smooth kicks in to a HUGE REACTION!  After a moment, the National
Champion, Juan Vasquez, emerges through the curtain.  He's dressed in
his usual tracksuit, the title belt slung over his shoulder.  He pauses
just beyond the entrance, pointing to the roaring crowd, slowly turning
to point at every area of the Crockett Coliseum...

...and breaks into a slow jog, wincing a bit as he heads towards the
ring where the giant and his manager are waiting for him.  Vasquez steps
through the ropes, marching past the giant to the corner, stepping up to
the middle rope where he trusts the title belt above his head with both
hands to a deafening roar from the crowd.  

The champion hops down off the ropes, handing the title belt over to AWA
Senior Official Michael Meekly as the music fades and Phil Watson begins
the introductions.]

PW:  Introducing first... he is the challenger... being accompanied to
the ring by his manager Louis Matsui... weighing in at 420 pounds from
Tokyo, Japan...

MAMMOTH MIIIIIZUUUUUSAAAAAWAAAAAA!

[The crowd explodes in jeers as the giant stands stoic, glaring across
the ring at the National Champion who is bouncing back and forth from
foot to foot.  He pulls off the tracksuit, revealing a set of heavily
taped ribs.]

PW:  And his opponent... from Los Angeles, California... weighing in at
238 pounds... he is the AWA NATIONAL CHAMPION...

JUAAAAAAAAAAAAN VASSSSSSSSQUEZ!

[The crowd roars in response as Vasquez throws an arm in the air,
lowering it to point across the ring at the giant.]

GM:  Ladies and gentlemen, this is why we're all here tonight - the AWA
National Title - pitting the largest, most dominant man in the entire
AWA against the man voted 2010's Wrestler of the Year!  The gold is on
the line and here... we...


"DING!  DING!  DING!"


GM:  GO!

[The crowd roars for the bell as Vasquez lunges out of the corner,
changing levels.  Mizusawa steps back slightly, ready to attack as
needed but the National Champion pulls up, sidestepping as he fakes
another takedown attempt.]

GM:  It's a game of cat and mouse here in the opening seconds.

BW:  Vasquez better watch out for that's cat's paws.  He'll whap him
into the middle of next week with one of 'em.

[Sizing up his opponent, Vasquez moves in as the giant prepares for a
collar and elbow...

...but Vasquez ducks under, catching the seven footer with a hooking
blow to the midsection as he rushes past, scampering to safety several
feet away.]

GM:  Nice shot by the champ.

BW:  And you're seeing exactly what he needs to do to win this thing. 
He's gotta stick and move.  He's gotta hit hard and then run for his
life.  If he gets within reach, he's gonna be flatter than a pancake,
Gordo.

[Vasquez wiggles his fingers, showing off a heavily-taped right thumb as
he looks for an opening.  They come together again, and again Vasquez
ducks under, throwing a blow to the body.  The giant wildly swings a
backhand, narrowly missing the fleeing Vasquez who backs right into the
corner.  Mizusawa spins around, moving in towards him...

...but Vasquez drops into a front somersault, rolling under the lunging
giant's arms.  He pops up to his feet, throwing a spinning back kick
into the midsection of Mizusawa to a cheer before backing away.]

GM:  The champion caught him again in the gut!  He's trying to keep
moving in there, trying to stick and move...

BW:  I think I just said that.

[A fuming giant marches towards Vasquez, swinging wildly with a right
hand that Vasquez backsteps on.  A left hand comes closer, the champion
just barely ducking underneath it as it goes whizzing by his head...

...but runs out of real estate as the giant shoves him back to the
buckles!]

GM:  Uh oh!  He's caught!

[The giant steps back a hair, looking to move in...

...and Vasquez promptly hops up to the middle rope, leaping off to lash
out with a pair of feet to the jaw!]

GM:  Dropki-

[The giant swats him aside, knocking him down.]

GM:  Ohh!  Mizusawa knocks him from the sky like a fly!  

BW:  The giant was like the rolled-up newspaper on a pesky little bug
that keeps circling your head.  You may miss him a few times but
eventually, you catch up and squish him!

[With a bellow, the giant goes to drop all his 420 pounds down on the
taped-up ribcage...

...but Vasquez rolls out of the way, rolling clear out to the entrance
ramp as Mizusawa bounces off the mat to the cheers of the crowd!]

GM:  The giant was looking to lay in a heavy blow there but it wasn't
gonna happen!  Juan Vasquez used his speed and his knowledge of exactly
where he was in the ring to get clear in time.

[As the giant struggles to get to his feet, Vasquez uses the ropes to
slingshot over, catching him in the ear with a kick, causing the
off-balance Tokyo native to stumble a few steps back.  Sensing an
opening, Vasquez rushes in, bouncing a right hand off the skull of the
giant!]

GM:  Big right hand!

[Vasquez has the crowd roaring at this point, throwing a second right
hand to the skull!]

GM:  Another one!  He's got the challenger wobbled!

[Rearing way back, the champion throws a third...

...but has it slapped aside before the giant reaches out, hooking his
massive hand around the throat of Vasquez!]

GM:  He hooks him!  He's got him by the throat!

[The giant seems ready to deliver a big chokeslam but Vasquez reaches
back, grabbing the top rope with his left arm and holding on tight. 
Mizusawa struggles against his grip, trying to snatch him free and into
the air...]

GM:  Vasquez is fighting it!  He's refusing to go up for the chokesl-
ohhh!

[The crowd groans as Mizusawa lets go of the throat of Vasquez, slamming
his knee up into the taped ribs.  Vasquez immediately doubles up,
clutching his ribcage...

...and a Mjollnir-style double axehandle across the back of Vasquez
knocks the champion down to the mat!]

GM:  Ohh!  What a shot!

BW:  It was like one of those big test of strength's at the carnival,
daddy, and Mizusawa just rang the bell!

[A few hard stomps to the ribs forces Vasquez to roll under the ropes to
the apron.  The referee steps in, forcing the giant to step back...

...and allowing a wild-eyed Louis Matsui to hammer the ribs with his
fists and forearms as hard and as quickly as he can to the jeers of the
crowd!]

GM:  Come on, referee!  Turn around in there!

[As the official spins around, Matsui simply walks away, leaving a
grimacing Vasquez on the apron.  The challenger approaches, reaching
over the ropes to drag Vasquez off the mat by the hair.]

GM:  The giant brings him to his feet - uh oh!

[Scooping the champion up, Mizusawa walks out to the middle of the ring,
and HURLS Vasquez down to the mat with a thunderous bodyslam!]

GM:  Ohh!  One of the simplest moves you can imagine but in the hands of
a man seven feet tall and over four hundred pounds, it is oh so
effective!  Juan Vasquez might have been broken in half by something
like that!

[The referee steps in, kneeling down next to Vasquez to ask him if he
can continue as Mizusawa steps back to the corner, leaning against the
buckles with confidence as Vasquez writhes in pain on the mat.]

GM:  I think those ribs are hurt a lot more than Juan Vasquez wanted to
let on, Bucky.

BW:  We saw what those avalanches did to Marcus Broussard and Raphael
Rhodes - how could Vasquez be any different?  As much as he likes to
think he's a superhero, he's a mere mortal, Gordo.

GM:  And I think even he would admit that right now.

[The referee waves for the match to continue as Mizusawa marches out of
the corner, reaching down to haul Vasquez to his feet by the back of the
trunks...

...and then buries a forearm into the kidneys!]

GM:  Ohh!  Right in the lower back!

[Holding Vasquez on his feet by the hair, Mizusawa spins him around,
throwing him back into the corner.]

GM:  Get out of there, Juan!  Get out of the buckles!

[The giant slowly approaches, not wasting energy...

...which allows Vasquez to rush forward, trying to escape the corner
with a pair of right hands to the massive skull!]

GM:  The champion's firing back!

[The blows seem to have some effect but not enough as Mizusawa simply
grabs Vasquez by the hair, smashing home a headbutt that knocks the
champion back to the corner again.  The giant moves in, turning his back
on the champion, resting against him...

...and SLAMS backwards into the corner!]

GM:  Ohhh!  That'll bust up those ribs even more!

BW:  And you talk about a simple move doing a lot of damage, it don't
get much simpler than that, Gordo.

[The giant steps out of the corner a bit again...

...and LAUNCHES himself backwards once more, crushing Vasquez against
the buckles!]

GM:  Juan Vasquez is in serious trouble here - he needs to get out of
the corner and he needs to do it quickly...

[Mizusawa steps a little further out this time, ready to drive himself
backwards...

...but just before he does, Vasquez raises both legs, tucking them tight
so when the giant slams backwards, he smashes into Vasquez' raised
knees!]

GM:  OHHH!  INTO THE KNEES!!

[The giant stumbles a few steps forward, giving the National Champion
some breathing room as he hops up on the middle rope, leaping off his
perch to grab a loose side headlock...

...and DRIVE Mizusawa facefirst into the canvas!]

GM:  BULLDOG!  A BULLDOG OFF THE MIDDLE ROPE!!

[With great effort, Vasquez flips Mizusawa onto his back, diving across
his chest.]

GM:  ONE!!  TWO!!

[But the powerful giant presses up, firing Vasquez through the air
before crashing down to the mat a few feet away.  The crowd buzzes with
concern as Vasquez rolls further away, scampering back to his feet as he
watches the giant slowly rise as well.]

GM:  Both men back up... 

BW:  Vasquez charges in!

[The National Champion tries to take advantage of the wobbled giant,
throwing another big right hand... and another... and another... before
grabbing the giant by the back of the head, spinning and SMASHING his
face into the top turnbuckle!]

GM:  Into the buckles!  Get him, Juan!

BW:  Are you kidding me?  Do you have no desire to appear impartial?!

[Still holding the head, Vasquez slams his face into the buckles
again... and again... and again...

...and then gets a wildly swung backhanded chop across the chest,
knocking the champion flat!]

GM:  Ohhh!  Mizusawa drilled him!

BW:  That just shows the power, the unadulterated power of a man like
Mizusawa, Gordo.  He wasn't even aiming that chop... he just threw it
backwards and caught Vasquez in the chest, and nearly knocked him out!

GM:  I don't know if I'd got that far but...

[Spinning around, the giant shakes his head, trying to clear the cobwebs
as he delivers a hard kick to the ribs, causing Vasquez to roll under
the ropes to the apron...

...and a second hard kick causes Vasquez to fall off the ropes onto the
thinly-padded concrete floor!]

GM:  Down to the floor goes the champion!

BW:  And if Vasquez has any sense at all in his brain, he'll stay out
there on the floor.  He'll curl up in a little ball and hope that Meekly
reaches ten before Mizusawa can put him back in.

GM:  Or Matsui!  Look out here!

[The crowd jeers as Louis Matsui approaches the downed Vasquez, waiting
for the official to back down Mizusawa before the manager delivers a
trio of big kicks to the ribs.]

GM:  Come on!  What in the world is wrong with Michael Meekly?!

[Matsui delivers one more kick before walking away, leaving Vasquez in a
tremendous amount of pain as the giant moves in, shoving the official
aside as he slings a leg over the top rope, stepping out on the apron.]

GM:  Mizusawa's coming out after him... out to the floor alongside the
champion...

[The giant reaches down, dragging Vasquez off the mat by the hair.  He
promptly wraps his arms around Vasquez' waist...

...and SLAMS his ribcage into the edge of the ring apron!]

GM:  OHHHH!

[The cameraman clearly picks up Louis Matsui screaming, "Again!  Again!"
to which the giant quickly obliges, smashing Vasquez' ribs into the ring
apron again!]

BW:  Twice, Gordo!  Twice we just saw Juan Vasquez' injured ribs slammed
into the hardest part of the ring by a 420 pound man!  And you still
want to say we're not about to see a new champion crowned?

[The giant leans against Vasquez for a few moments, really putting the
pressure on those injured ribs.  He slowly rises up as the referee's
count hits four, swinging Vasquez around and shoving him under the ropes
into the ring.]

GM:  Vasquez is back in... the giant heading - no, not yet.

[A rabid fan in the front row catches Mizusawa's attention, the giant
turning to stare a hole straight through him...

...and turning around right into Vasquez swinging through the ropes with
both feet to the face!  Big cheer!]

GM:  Ohh!  What a shot!

[Vasquez falls back inside the ring, grabbing at his injured ribs.]

GM:  Vasquez caught him by surprise with that!

BW:  If I'm Juan Vasquez, I stay on him.  Try and get the big man
counted out!

[Getting to his feet, Vasquez raises an arm to the cheers of the crowd
as he grabs the top rope with both hands...]

GM:  He's gonna dive!

[But before he can, the giant straightens up, slamming an arm across his
chest, almost daring Vasquez to leap out onto him!]

GM:  Whoa!  

BW:  Hah!  Do it now, Vasquez!  Do it!

[A shocked Vasquez shakes his head, backing off as the giant nods his
head, again inviting the champion to leap out onto him.]

GM:  Juan Vasquez is finding that his usual bag of tricks just aren't
working against the largest man in the entire AWA!

BW:  Like James Brown, he'd better go find a brand new bag 'cause what
he's got - the giant's already seen!

[Vasquez backs to the far side, waiting for the giant who climbs up on
the apron...

...and then rushes forward, catching the big man with a right hand to
the skull!]

GM:  Another big right hand!  Vasquez is known for being a heavy hitter
but-

[But Mizusawa simply pie-faces him, shoving him down to the mat.]

BW:  But the giant hits harder!

[The champion scurries back up, charging in to throw two more big right
hands to the skull...

...and then dashes to the adjacent ropes, springing back off the middle
rope!]

GM:  DROPKICK!!

[The backspring dropkick catches the giant on the chin, staggering him!]

GM:  Vasquez is trying to take the giant down!  He needs to do it!  He
needs to prove to himself that he can do it!  

BW:  But the giant's still standing!  What else ya got, chump?!

[The giant straightens up, smashing his own chest with his clenched
fists, begging for more...

...and gets caught with a right hand!  And another!  And another!]

GM:  Vasquez is rockin' the big man!

[Stepping up on the second rope in the middle of the ring, Vasquez grabs
the giant in a loose headlock, throwing punch after punch to the
forehead...

...to which the giant replies by hoisting him up, and hurling him
through the air where he crashes down in a heap on the canvas!]

GM:  Ohh!  The champion was in the midst of a rally but Mizusawa just
tossed him across the ring like he was nothing!

[The giant steps over the top rope, glaring angrily at the downed
Vasquez.  He slowly walks towards him, leaping up...]

GM:  LEGDROP!!


"THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD!"


[BIG CHEER!]

GM:  HE MISSED!  HE MISSED!!

[Vasquez springs to his feet, dashing to the ropes, rebounding off...]


"WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!"
"OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"


GM:  KNEE!  RUNNING KNEE TO THE MUSH!!

[The giant collapses backwards, giving Vasquez the chance to dive into a
lateral press.]

GM:  ONE!!  TWO!!  

[But again, the giant shows off his power with the kickout, hurling the
champion off of him.]

GM:  Mizusawa kicks out!

BW:  That running knee would KO a lot of guys - but MAMMOTH Mizusawa is
not a lot of guys!  He may weight as much as a lot of guys combined!  He
may be as big as a lot of guys combined!  But he is NOT a lot of guys
when it comes to falling to Juan Vasquez' offense!

[Vasquez gets up a little slower, grabbing his ribs as he approaches the
seated Mizusawa...]


"WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!"
"OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"


GM:  GAHH!  Big kick to the spine!

[Vasquez stands over the giant, waiting for him to roll to all fours
before he begins unleashing a torrent of big forearms across the back of
the head and neck of the big man!]

GM:  He's hammering him!  Trying to pound him down to the mat!

BW:  That's where he's gotta keep him.  If he can keep Mizusawa on the
mat, the champion stands a chance of keeping his precious National
Title.  But if he lets him up, the giant's at a tremendous advantage!

GM:  The forearms are keeping Mizusawa down on his knees and-

[Vasquez winds up his right arm, dropping a big elbow down across the
neck!]

GM:  Elbowdrop!

[Scampering back up, he lifts his arm again, dropping another elbow,
this one into the kidneys!]

GM:  A second!

[Moving a little slower now, Vasquez gets up with a wince, measuring his
man, and popping him in the back of the head with another big
elbowdrop!]

GM:  A third one!

[Breathing a bit hard, Vasquez lies on his back for a long moment,
trying to recover as the giant stays on all fours next to him...

...and simply reaches over, SMASHING his forearm down across the taped
ribs to a howl of pain from Vasquez!]

BW:  Look at that, Gordo!  Vasquez gave him five or six shots there but
one shot from the giant undoes everything that he did!  This man is
awe-inspiring to watch inside that ring!

[The giant slowly rises to his feet, looking down at the anguished
Vasquez...

...and simply steps up on the torso, putting all of his weight on the
injured ribs!]

GM:  AHHH!  Get him off the man, ref!

BW:  There's nothing illegal in that!

GM:  I don't know about that.

[With a sneer, Mizusawa steps off the downed Vasquez, leaving the
National Champion gasping for air, clutching his ribs with both arms. 
Matsui shouts something in Japanese to the giant who nods his head,
slowly lifting his right arm...

...and DROPS 420 pounds in an elbow across the torso!]

GM:  OHHHH!

[The giant turns his body, applying a big lateral press.]

GM:  ONE!!  TWO!!  TH-

[But Vasquez lifts a shoulder off the mat, narrowly beating the count to
the cheers of the crowd.]

GM:  We're just past the ten minute mark in this match - a lot of time
left.

BW:  There's no way in hell that Vasquez can survive that long.  He's in
serious trouble here.  These fans are in a hush, Gordo, they can feel it
too.  The National Title is in jeopardy right here tonight!

[Mizusawa pushes up to his knees, looking up questioningly at Michael
Meekly who holds up two fingers, shaking his head at the challenger.]

GM:  Meekly tells him it was only a two count.

BW:  I'm not so sure about that one, Gordo.

GM:  It looked like he got the shoulder up to me.

[The giant climbs to his feet, dragging Vasquez up with him by the
hair...

...and hoists him up, pressing him sky high overhead to the roar of the
crowd!]

GM:  Oh no!

BW:  Could be a MAMMOTH Slam!  This could be it!

[The challenger turns to the side, shouting something in Japanese to the
crowd who responds with jeers.  He turns around, repeating himself. 
Eventually, the big man has turned a full circle...

...and then steps back, dropping Vasquez straight down on his injured
ribs!]

GM:  OHHHH!

BW:  Ring the-

[Not wasting a moment, Mizusawa DROPS a huge elbow across the lower back
of the National Champion!]

GM:  GAAAAAH!  What an elbowdrop!  That shook the ring, Bucky!

BW:  I was gonna say to ring the bell after that gorilla press but that
elbowdrop might have just sealed the deal.  I don't think Vasquez is
getting up after that.  Not on his own anyways.

[From outside the ring, Louis Matsui barks some orders to the challenger
who nods, dragging Vasquez to his feet...

...and wrapping his king-sized arms around the torso of the champion,
hoisting him off the mat!]

GM:  BEARHUG!!

[Vasquez cries out as Mizusawa cranks up the pressure, squeezing the
taped ribs with all the power his seven foot, four hundred and twenty
pound body can manage.]

BW:  This is it, Gordo!  Get the belt ready!  Will that belt even fit
the giant?  Has anyone even checked that out yet?

GM:  Vasquez is in serious trouble here!  The referee is right there,
checking to see if he wants to give it up... the champion is in grave
danger here!  

[The crowd roars, trying to rally their support around the champion as
he struggles against the hold, throwing two short right hands to the
temple...

...but the offensive flurry is choked off by the challenger turning up
the pressure!]

GM:  The ribs are being absolutely crushed here by Mizusawa!  He's
trying to do more than win the National Title here - he's trying to
finish off the National Champion once and for all!  He's trying to put
the man in the hospital, Bucky!

BW:  Right next to Broussard and Rhodes!  The giant shows no mercy!  He
takes no prisoners!  There ain't a thing that's gonna stand between him
and that AWA National Title - the biggest prize in our sport is going to
the biggest man in our sport!

[Vasquez starts to fade, his flailing arms slowly starting to fall to
the side.]

BW:  Ring the bell!  We've got a new champion!

GM:  Not yet!  Not yet we don't!  The referee is right in there - he'll
be the one to decide if we've got a new champion or not!  He'll be the
one who can tell the world when the champion falls!

[The National Champion's arms fall limp, the official stepping in to
check on him as his eyes close.]

GM:  The referee will lift the arm and let it drop - if it happens three
times, he WILL stop the match, Bucky!

[Meekly lifts the arm once...

...and lets it drop!]

BW:  That's one!  Do it again!  We've got a victory celebration to
watch!

GM:  The AWA's Senior Official is gonna check it again...

[The arm goes up, Meekly holding it high...

...and then watches it fall, the crowd groaning with disappointment, and
then roaring with a cheer, trying to rally their champion!]

GM:  That's two!  

BW:  One more and we've got a new champion!  SQUEEZE, MIZUSAWA, SQUEEZE!

[The AWA's Senior Official, Michael Meekly, lifts the arm once more,
pointing to the timekeeper to be at the ready...

...and lets it fall!]

GM:  That's thr-

[BIG CHEER!]

GM:  NO!  NO!  THE ARM'S UP!  THE ARM STAYS UP!

[With the crowd roaring, Vasquez pumps the arm, trying to pull energy
into his body...]


"SLAAAAAAAAAAAAAP!"
"OHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"


GM:  OPEN HANDED SLAP TO THE EAR!!  

BW:  A page out of Raphael Rhodes' playbook right there!

GM:  He rocked him with it but the giant won't let go of the bearhug,
trying to turn up the pressure...


"SLAAAAAAAAAAAAAP!"
"OHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"


GM:  HE SLAPPED THE OTHER EAR!!

BW:  And the giant's head has gotta be ringin' off that!  He may be
seeing spots, hearing things, who knows!

[But the challenger refuses to relent, still holding his crushing
bearhug...

...until the champion lashes out one more time, smashing both of his
arms together on the ears of the giant at the same time, freeing himself
from the challenger's grip!]

GM:  He's loose!  Vasquez battles free!

[Grabbing the giant by the ears, Vasquez DRILLS him with a headbutt,
stunning the Japanese superstar, sending him falling back against the
ropes.]

GM:  Headbutt!  Vasquez has one of the- 

[Leaning down, Vasquez slaps the canvas with both hands, winding up his
big right cross...]

GM:  RIGHT HANNN- 

[But as we saw happen in the past, MAMMOTH Mizusawa catches the
hard-thrown haymaker in his left hand, reaching out to grab Vasquez by
the throat with his right hand!]

GM:  Oh no!  NO!

[As Mizusawa attempts to hoist Vasquez up for a chokeslam, the champion
lashes out with a knee, catching the giant square in the face, forcing
him to break his grip!]

GM:  Whew!  That was close!

[With the giant dazed, Vasquez steps towards him, grabbing the back of
the head and DRILLING him with another knee to the skull!  The crowd
roars as Mizusawa's head snaps back, his arms hanging over the ropes!]

GM:  The giant may be on Dream Street after that one!

BW:  Do something, Louis!  Do something now!

[The champion steps forward, slipping his right arm under his
challenger's left armpit...]

GM:  Are you kidding me?!

[The crowd roars at the hiptoss attempt...

...but a pissed-off giant is having none of it, DRILLING Vasquez with a
standing lariat that takes Vasquez all the way over the ropes, sending
him crashing down to a heap on the thinly-padded concrete floor!]

GM:  GOOD GRIEF!! 

BW:  Uh oh!

GM:  What?

BW:  Vasquez might not get up from that, Gordo!

GM:  And?

BW:  And the giant can't win the title on a countout!  If Vasquez gets
counted out, MAMMOTH Mizusawa wins the match but not the AWA National
Title!

[The shouts of Louis Matsui imply he's reminding his man of that fact
right now.  With a curt nod, the giant steps over the ropes again,
walking down the ringsteps to the floor where Vasquez is crawling over
towards the wooden entrance ramp.  The giant stalks towards him, staying
aware of the referee's ten count.]

GM:  The challenger is in hot pursuit of Juan Vasquez who is-

BW:  Get him!

GM:  Would you stop it?

BW:  Hey!  You were blatantly cheering for Vasquez earlier tonight!  Now
it's my turn to cheer for the next National Champion!  It's not too late
for you to switch sides, Gordo.  There's plenty of room on the bandwagon
for ya!

[Leaning down to pick up Vasquez, the giant catches an upkick to the
chin that knocks him a step back...

...and then he DRILLS the seated Vasquez with a push kick to the chest,
sending him smashing spinefirst into the ramp!]

GM:  Gaaah... so much abuse... so much punishment to those ribs.

[The giant pulls Vasquez up by the hair, shoving him back against the
ramp again.  He reaches forward, tucking his fingers underneath the
white tape wrapped around the champion's body...

...and pulls at it, ripping and tearing the tape!]

GM:  Oh no!  He's ripping the tape - that protective tape - off the
champion's injured ribs!

BW:  Yeah!  Finish him, champ!

GM:  He's not the champion!

BW:  Not yet.  Give him a few minutes with that tape ripped off!

[With just fragments of the white tape still on his body, Vasquez is
chucked under the ropes into the ring.  The giant grabs the top rope,
pulling himself up on the apron before stepping over the ropes into the
ring.  He slowly stalks the crawling Vasquez who is deperately trying to
get away.  The champion reaches the corner, pulling himsef to his
feet...

...where a HUUUUUGE chop across the pectorals lands, knocking Vasquez
down to a knee!]

GM:  My stars!  Have you EVER seen a chop like that?

BW:  Just imagine what it felt like!

[Grabbing the champ's arm, Mizusawa flings him across the ring, sending
him backfirst into the corner...]

GM:  Oh my stars... get out of there, Juan!  Get out of there!

[The giant leans against the buckles for a long moment and with a
bellow, races across...]

GM:  AAAAAVVVVAAAALAAAAAANNNNCH-

[But at the last moment, Vasquez slips his entire body through the
middle and top ropes, causing Mizusawa to slam chestfirst into the
turnbuckles!  Big cheer!]

GM:  HE MISSED!  HE MISSED!

[Using the ropes to step up, Vasquez leaps up from the apron, catching
the giant with a boot to the back of the skull!]

GM:  HEAD KICK!!

[The giant stumbles backwards, falling back to the middle of the ring as
the National Champion quickly scales the ropes, pausing for a moment...

...and HURLING himself off the top, catching the giant with both feet
squarely on the chin!  HUUUUUUGE CHEER as the giant falls flat on his
back in the middle of the ring!]

GM:  HE DROPPED HIM!!  HE DROPPED THE GIANT WITH A DROPKICK OFF THE
TOP!!

[Rolling to his stomach, a pain-ravaged Vasquez crawls across the ring
much slower than he'd like, throwing himself across Mizusawa's broad
chest!]

GM:  ONE!!  TWO!!!  THR-

[BIG DISAPPOINTED ROAR FROM THE CROWD!!!]

GM:  HE ALMOST GOT HIM!!  HE ALMOST PINNED THE GIANT!!

BW:  Nobody's pinned the giant, Gordo!  NOBODY!  And Louis Matsui ain't
gonna let it happen here tonight!  This is a night for celebration! 
This is the night for history!  On the AWA's third birthday, that
National Title is going home with a champion we can all be proud of!

[Vasquez pushes up to his knees, face buried in his hands for a second,
shaking his head back and forth.  He slowly gets up, grabbing his
now-exposed ribs as he looks down at the prone Mizusawa who is having
trouble getting his tired body off the mat.]

GM:  We are creeping close to the twenty minute mark of this match and
that's an awfully long time to carry four hundred and twenty pounds
around the ring, Bucky!

BW:  Shaddup, Myers!

[Vasquez backs to the corner, breathing heavily, preparing himself for
what comes next.  Knowing he's gonna badly hurt himself to do it,
Vasquez dashes out of the corner, leaping into the air...

...and SMASHING down backfirst across the chest of the challenger!]

GM:  BACKSPLASH!!!  SHADES OF TOMMY STEPHENS!!

[An exhausted Vasquez pushes up slowly off the mat again, wincing with
every step as he wobbles across the ring to the opposite corner.  He
slaps the top turnbuckle to the cheers of the crowd, spinning without
thinking to charge out to the middle, leaping higher this time to drop
his weight down across the chest again with a second senton splash!]

GM:  Another one!  Another backsplash onto the downed giant!

BW:  Somebody's gotta do something in there!  Anybody!  Stop this!

[Rolling off the downed giant, Vasquez crawls on his knees across the
ring for several feet, finally pushing himself up with great exertion,
practically falling into the corner.  He slowly turns, leaning against
the buckles as his chest heaves rapidly...

...and charges out once more, letting loose an anguished howl as he
leaps as high as his injured body will allow, SMASHING down on the
unmoving giant!]

GM:  A THIRD!!  HE HIT THREE BACKSPLASHES ON THE GIANT!!

[A badly-hurting Vasquez rolls to his stomach, just collapsing atop the
challenger.]

GM:  ONE!!  TWO!!!  THRE-


"OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"


GM:  HE KICKED OUT!!  MY GOD, HE KICKED OUT!! 

BW:  YES!  YES!  YES!!

GM:  The giant kicked out just before the count of three!  I thought he
was done for after those three splashes!  I thought that would be enough
to keep him down for a three count!

[Vasquez shakes his head, looking down at the canvas as the referee
shouts "TWO!" for everyone to hear again.  With the crowd roaring,
Vasquez looks up at the lights, almost as if searching for some kind of
divine inspiration.  Breathing deeply, Vasquez pushes up off the mat to
his feet, nearly falling back down as he loses his balance, grabbing his
injured ribs...

...and lifts his right hand as high as his pain-wrecked ribs will allow!
 DEAFENING ROAR!]

GM:  He's calling for it!  He's calling for the right hand!

[The AWA National Champion falls back against the ropes, holding up the
fist, wriggling the fingers...]

GM:  The giant is starting to stir.. starting to get up off the mat...

[Rolling to his stomach, Mizusawa pushes up to all fours, bracing his
massive arms beneath him, and shoves up to his knees...

...where Juan Vasquez is waiting for him!]

GM:  RIGHT HAN-

"OHHHHHHHHHHH!"

BW:  CAUGHT!  HE CAUGHT IT AGAIN!!

[And promptly wraps his gigantic hand around the throat of the National
Champion!]

GM:  NO!  NO!

[Using the chokehold, Mizusawa hoists Vasquez up overhead in the gorilla
press...]

GM:  MAMMOTH SLAM!!  HERE IT COMES!!

[But a determined Juan Vasquez won't give up, shaking and twisting his
body, slipping free...

...and grabbing onto the giant's neck with his left arm on the way down
the back, hanging off the challenger's broad back!]

GM:  What the-?  What's he-

[The crowd EXPLODES as Vasquez holds up the heavily-taped right hand...

...and JAMS IT into the side of the throat!]

GM:  ASSASSIN'S SPIKE!!  HE'S GOT THE SPIKE APPLIED!!

[Mizusawa instantly recoils in a mixture of pain and panic, trying to
reach back to grab Vasquez but the National Champion is hanging on
tight, gritting his teeth as he shoves the taped thumb deep into the
side of the neck, screaming as he resists being bucked off.]

GM:  The giant's trying to get free!  The giant's in trouble!

[A frantic Louis Matsui is slamming his fists on the mat outside the
ring, screaming and shouting at his challenger who wanders around the
ring, turning his back...

...and SLAMS the champion into the buckles, crushing him beneath 420
pounds!]

GM:  INTO THE BUCKLES!!

BW:  That's how he broke the sleeper of Raphael Rhodes!

[But as the giant stumbles out of the corner, Vasquez is still clinging
to his back, showing every ounce of the determination and fighting
spirit that has made him the best of the world, his knuckles turning
white from the grip he holds on the back of the big man!]

GM:  He's still hanging on!  Vasquez still has the Spike on him!  

BW:  And now it's Mizusawa who is fading!  It's Mizusawa who is losing
consciousness!

[Vasquez is hanging on, pushing his thumb as hard as humanly possible,
screaming "DOWN!!  GO DOWN, YOU SON OF A BITCH!!"  The crowd roars for
Vasquez' intensity, shouting their voices hoarse as the National
Champion staggers the giant...

...who suddenly slumps down facefirst to the mat, Vasquez still clinging
to his back, still with the thumb driven deep!]

GM:  HE'S DOWN!  THE GIANT'S DOWN!!

[The National Champion hangs on to the hold, nodding his head fiercely
as the referee steps in to check...

...and spins to the side, signalling for the bell!]


"DING!  DING!  DING!"


[DEAFENING ROAR!]

GM:  HE DID IT!!  HE DID IT!!  VASQUEZ HAS SLAIN THE GIANT!!

[The National Champion releases the hold, pushing up to his feet in a
burst of adrenaline he soon regrets, visibly wincing as he grabs his
badly-injured ribs.  The official steps in, raising his hand as Phil
Watson makes it official over the thunderous crowd ovation.]

PW:  Here is your winner... and STILL AWA NATIONAL CHAMPION...

JUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN VASSSSSSSSSSSSSQUEZ!!

[The title belt is handed back to the National Champion who hugs it
tightly, raising it for a moment to plant a kiss on it before shoving it
into the air, showing it to the roaring fans.  Vasquez moves to the
corner, stepping up to the second rope to hold the title belt up.  He
slaps the plate of the belt before pointing out to the crowd.]

GM:  Vasquez is telling them that title belt is for all of them!  The
belt belongs to these people!  Juan Vasquez truly is the people's
champion here tonight in Dallas, Bucky!

BW:  Oh, you're making me sick.

GM:  Juan Vasquez has overcome all the odds!  He's overcome all the odds
stacked against him!  The injured ribs, the interference of Matsui, the
420 pound challenger!  He topples them all and he walks out of The Main
Event STILL the AWA National Champion!  Unbelievable!

BW:  But for how long, Gordo?  With all the odds stacked against him...
with the list of challengers growing each and every day... with the best
in the world lined up to take that title off of him, how long can Juan
Vasquez keep this up?  How long can he beat the odds?

GM:  I don't know, Bucky... but on this night, here in Dallas, he has
done it and boy oh boy, do these fans love him for it!  Fans, it's been
a tremendous night here at the Crockett Coliseum!  For Jason Dane, Mark
Stegglet, Bucky Wilde, and myself - we hope you had a great time
celebrating the AWA's third birthday!  Good night everybody!

[Vasquez continues to stand atop the midbuckle, slapping the title belt
and pointing to the crowd, nodding his head to the cheering fans...

...as we fade to black.]