[Fade up on footage captioned "LAST THURSDAY NIGHT." We see footage from RCW RAMPAGE, as Owen "Truth" Curtis battles Johnny Pleasence for the RCW Championship. Pleasence tosses a steel chair to Curtis, who catches it, and Pleasence drops to the mat as if he's been shot as Morales turns round and catches Curtis holding the chair! The evidence of his eyes is too much for Morales -- and he signals for the bell!] * DING! DING! DING! * [We hear the original commentary from Don Ditka and Billy Shakespeare:] DD: No! No! Not like this! Johnny Pleasence has succeeded in getting Owen Curtis disqualified, and he... he... I can't bring myself to say it, Billy Shakespeare. BS: Pleasence is the first ever RCW Champion. Unbelievable. [As Curtis slumps to the mat in shock, Morales moves to Pleasence, as if to raise his arm in victory... but what's this? Somebody has vaulted the rail and slid into the ring!] DD: And now we have a fan in the ring here... this is descending into chaos, folks! BS: Wait a minute, Don, that's not a fan -- that's EDDIE CURTIS! DD: Eddie Curtis?! Owen Curtis's little brother? [Indeed, the "fan" in the ring bears quite the resemblance to the shocked Owen Curtis, and he's wearing a mesh photo vest and carrying a camera. Eddie Curtis moves over to Morales, trying to show him something on his camera. In the end, Morales pushes both Pleasence and Eddie Curtis away. Curtis moves to his brother, putting his arm around him. Morales stares at Pleasence... stares at Curtis... stares out into the crowd.] DD: What's going through Juan Morales's mind right now, Billy Shakespeare? BS: He looks torn, Don, that's for sure. What to do... [And then Morales moves to the side of the ring and beckons to Sy Simmons, who listens to what Morales has to say. Finally the deafening noise in the Garden subsides a little, as the fans await the official word...] SS: Ladies and gentlemen, I have been informed by match official Juan Morales that he does not feel it appropriate to disqualify Owen Curtis, based on the evidence before him... [The fans buzz, wondering whether the decision will be reversed and Curtis will be crowned champion.] SS: ...and he has ruled that... THIS... MATCH... MUST... CONTINUE! * DING! DING! DING! * [Huge pop from the crowd as Eddie Curtis gives his brother a hug! Matilda is right back on the apron, and Pleasence looks absolutely flabberghasted!] DD: It's chaos out here! Morales needs to get Curtis Junior and Matilda Agutter away from this ring so that we can get on with this match properly! [As Morales's attention is taken by Matilda, Eddie grabs the steel chair, quickly sets it up... and stun guns Pleasence right onto the steel chair! Huge pop!] DD: STUN GUN! STUN GUN! Eddie Curtis with the stun gun on Pleasence! Eddie kicks the chair from the ring -- and Pleasence is laid out! [Eddie slides from the ring quickly and runs around the side of the squared circle to where Matilda is literally tearing her hair out at the official. Eddie grabs her by the legs and yanks her down! Huge pop!] DD: Owen Curtis receiving a big assist here from his younger brother -- and Morales now turns into the ring... to see CURTIS COVERING PLEASENCE! CURTIS HAS PLEASENCE PINNED! [The crowd is absolutely jumping as Morales drops to the canvas, Curtis with Pleasence's leg firmly hooked... The fans chant alone with the count...] "ONE!" "TWO!" "THREE! OOOOOOHHHH!" DD: No! No! Pleasence... Pleasence kicked out! By God, Pleasence kicked out! [The crowd erupts with a resounding heel pop as Pleasence somehow, somehow gets a shoulder up. Curtis rolls to his feet, bringing Pleasence with him. He slings Pleasence's arm over his shoulder...] DD: Curtis is going to finish Pleasence with the Obituary! This is it, folks! Owen Curtis is going to be the first ever RCW Champion! [Curtis hoists Pleasence up... holds him up in the vertical position... holds him... cameras flash all over the arena as Curtis continues to hold him, an awesome display of power, of adrenaline, of desire... but... but Pleasence shifts his weight! Pleasence shifts his weight, and lands... somehow lands on his feet! Big heel pop! Shocked, Owen Curtis is turned around, picked up in a cradle, and... HUGE HEEL POP!] DD: JOHNNY SPIKE! JOHNNY SPIKE! JOHNNY SPIKE! [Pleasence hits his cradle piledriver on Curtis, and rolls onto the Oregonian to make a good firm cover, grabbing a handful of tights for good measure as Morales drops to make the count... 1... 2... ...3!] * DING! DING! DING! * [The crowd is absolutely livid, balled up paper cups already beginning to rain down on the ring as Pleasence rolls off Curtis and lies on his back next to the fallen Truth in the centre of the ring. "Into The Night" kicks in over the PA as Morales lifts Pleasence's arm, and Simmons makes it official:] SS: Ladies and gentlemen... here is your winner... and the FIRST EVER RCW CHAMPION... JOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHNNNYY PLEEEEEEAAAAAASANCE! [As Pleasence snatches his arm away from Morales and trash begins to rain down on the ring from the angry fans, we fade through to the titles:] ___ ______ __ _, _, _ ___ _,_ __, _ _ _ __, __, / _ \/ ___/ | /| / / / \ |\ | | |_| |_ | | | |_) |_ / , _/ /__ | |/ |/ / \ / | \| | | | | |/\| | | \ | /_/|_|\___/ |__/|__/ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~~ Thursday 13 April 2006 [As The Who's "We Don't Get Fooled Again" plays, fade through to the RCW's studios, where as usual "the voice of RCW" Don Ditka can be found, leaning easily against the desk in front of a large plasma screen, which currently shows a slowly spinning RCW logo. The lights in the studio rise as Ditka smiles to the camera.] DD: Good evening, everybody! It's 10pm, Thursday night, and we are coming at you live from the RCW nerve centre here in downtown Portland, Oregon. I am, as always, Don Ditka, and it's my pleasure to welcome you to RCW On The Wire, the world of professional wrestling in 60 minutes! [The shot changes to show Ditka's head and shoulders and the screen behind him, which shows slow-motion footage of new RCW Champion Johnny Pleasence snatching the brand new gold belt from RCW President Daniel Spreadbury.] DD: Folks, you saw it at the top of the hour -- it was just seven nights ago that we saw the first ever RCW Champion crowned, amid predictably controversial circumstances. We'll talk a whole lot more about last Thursday night's events in our RCW Rewind momentarily. [The screen behind Ditka shows the silhouettes of three wrestlers.] DD: And it's been a busy week since the last RAMPAGE, with three RCW competitors being released from their contracts. We'll talk more about that real soon, too. [The screen shows the RCW RAMPAGE logo.] DD: Plus, of course, we'll run down all the matches we're going to see on next Thursday night's RCW RAMPAGE event, once again set to emanate live from the Garden, and we'll hear from all of the RCW superstars scheduled to be in action. Don't forget -- tickets are on-sale for that great live event, so you can be there in person, and we'll have details of that later on, too. So let's get right to it! ___ ______ __ / _ \/ ___/ | /| / / / , _/ /__ | |/ |/ / << << << << << << REWIND << << << << << << /_/|_|\___/ |__/|__/ [Ditka has now taken his seat behind the glass-topped desk, and addresses the camera.] DD: Of course, our top story this week is the new RCW Champion, the Big Bad himself, Johnny Pleasence. At the culmination of the RCW ROAD TO THE GOLD tournament, Pleasence bested Owen "Truth" Curtis in controversial fashion to become the first ever man to hold the title that will rapidly become one of the most coveted in this great business. [We cut to footage from the match, Ditka providing the voice-over. Pleasence comes to the ring, dressed not in his usual ring attire, but all in black... Curtis comes out and gives his green visor to Matilda at ringside, who immediately stomps it to pieces... Pleasence repeatedly stalling, leaving the ring and trying to rile up Curtis... Pleasence tossing the ring steps into the crowd, trying to take out Curtis's frat house fans... Pleasence working over Curtis's knee... Pleasence slingshots himself over the ropes, landing hard on Curtis's left leg as he comes down on the other side... Curtis ducks under a clothesline attempt, turning and grabbing Pleasence in a waistlock... Curtis hoisting his opponent up with a belly-to-belly suplex, and staying on him, applying an armbar... Pleasence with a backdrop driver... Pleasence with a snap DDT... Pleasence with a hotshot... Curtis kips up!... Curtis with a running bulldog... Curtis with another belly-to-belly... Curtis with the Front Page Mugshot -- but Pleasence kicks out!...] DD: What a match it was, folks. Pleasence was all about the mind games, doing his very best to keep Curtis off-balance. But Owen Curtis wrestled a smart match, choosing not to follow Pleasence outside the ring and get into a knock-down, drag-out brawl with the angry young Brit. And Curtis came so close to taking home the bacon -- you saw the conclusion of the match at the top of the show. [The footage now shows RCW President Daniel Spreadbury taking the belt off his shoulder, folding its leather straps carefully, holding it in front of him in his hands and looking down at it, as if considering whether or not to present it to Pleasence... and Matilda simply snatches it away from Spreadbury and hands it to Pleasence, who slings it over his shoulder, takes a step forwards... and, a smile curling at the corners of his mouth, condescendingly pats Spreadbury on the side of the face! Pleasence then turns and *blasts* Curtis around the head with it, busting the defeated man right open.] DD: If I may editorialise for a moment, folks, I have to tell you: in all my years in and around this great sport, I've never met a man as disrespectful and arrogant as the self-proclaimed Big Bad, Johnny Pleasence. I was disgusted by the way he treated the RCW President, not to mention the RCW Championship belt... I'm willing to give this man a second chance, but I'm sure I won't be alone in hoping that somebody gives this man a few lessons in respect very soon indeed. [Cut back to Ditka sitting at the desk, as the screen behind him now shows footage from the "Pistol" Paul Driscoll vs. Mark Coleman match.] DD: Let's move on. The challengers to the RCW Champion are already lining up -- and the two men who lost out in the second round of the ROAD TO THE GOLD tournament, "Pistol" Paul Driscoll and Mark Coleman, met last week on RAMPAGE with the winner going on to next week's show to a match against Owen Curtis to determine the number one contender. [Cut to footage of the match between Driscoll and Coleman, as Ditka gives his voice-over. Driscoll wrestling in first gear, Coleman effortlessly besting him for much of the match... Driscoll backdrops Coleman over the top rope to the apron, and Coleman sunset flips himself back into the ring, getting a near-fall on Driscoll... Coleman busting Driscoll's lip open with a hard right hand, and Driscoll suddenly coming alive... Driscoll hits Coleman with a uranage to pick up the pinfall victory.] DD: Driscoll was wearing the disappointment of not making it to the tournament final for all to see in the early going in his match against the rookie Mark Coleman. It took a good shot to the face, busting open Driscoll's lip, to wake the Texan up and remind him that he was in a good position to get right back in the tite hunt by winning the match. The taste of his own blood was just the wake-up call Driscoll needed, however, and after that he made his greater experience count, finally picking up the win after Coleman tried to showboat for the fans. Coleman will undoubtedly be disappointed coming off this defeat -- but there's no denying his natural talent, and with some more experience and seasoning, this high-impact, high-energy Tennesseean is going to go on to great things here in RCW. [Cut to footage of Nolan Dorado and Orin LeBlanc going at it... LeBlanc jumping him in the aisle... Dorado is busted open... LeBlanc with a Death Valley Driver on Dorado... LeBlanc with a clothesline... Dorado with a tornado DDT... Dorado with a missile dropkick... Dorado with a split-legged moonsault... LeBlanc with the Beast's Burden, but as he makes the cover, Jodee Burwick has the referee distracted with her ample bosom... Dorado takes the count-out loss rather than face LeBlanc any longer...] DD: Nolan Dorado continued to show us that he may be the most exciting young talent here in RCW in his match with Orin "the Lynx" LeBlanc -- but demonstrated once more that he needs to work on his focus. Already bent out of shape before the match because of his earlier loss to Vinny Carmazzi, Dorado overlooked LeBlanc, and paid for it as a consequence. One person who did *not* overlook LeBlanc, however, is Jodee Burwick, who shot more than one admiring glance at RCW's only Canadian after the bell. LeBlanc continues to roll along here in RCW, and looked more impressive than ever in this match -- demonstrating also that he's even more dangerous than usual when he's riled up, Dorado's backstage attack on LeBlanc ahead of the match serving only to fuel the fire inside "The Lynx" -- something that he may think twice about in future. [Cut to footage of last RAMPAGE's tag team turmoil match... Bailey Fitzgerald and Jake Andrews locking it up... Andrews jams a thumb into Fitzgerald's eye, to the chagrin of Andrews's partner Vinny Carmazzi, who lets the referee know about the infraction... Andrews slaps his own partner around the face... Madrock and Carmazzi slugging it out in the middle of the ring... Carmazzi inviting Fitzgerald on, easily demonstrating his superiority over the rookie... Andrews hits a low blow on Madrock... Carmazzi turns on his partner, hitting him with a leg lariat... Madrock hits Andrews with the Coming Down Abbott's Peak as Carmazzi storms away from the ring...] DD: It was scheduled to be Madrock the Irrepressible and Bailey Fitzgerald squaring off against Jake Andrews and Ryan Faith -- but with Faith a no-show, resulting in his temporary suspension, his place was taken by none other than Vinny Carmazzi, who is so desperate to wrestle that he would rather step into the ring against the giant Australian and his rookie partner, tagging with a man whose attitude, shall we say, don't align with his own than sit the night out. So Carmazzi went out there and wrestled against Madrock and Fitzgerald -- but found his distaste for the cheating ways of his partner so great that, in the end, he was indirectly responsible for Andrews falling foul of Madrock in what turned out to be his last match in RCW, for now at least. Last Thursday night was also the last time we'll see young Bailey Fitzgerald. Both Fitzgerald and Andrews were handed their releases after last week's show, and all of us here at RCW wish them all the best in their future endeavours. [Cut to footage of the Last Man Standing match between "The Jersey Drifter" Liam Cassidy and "The Unbreakable" Trevor Lansing... Cassidy dives through the ropes onto Lansing as he nears the ring... Lansing hits Cassidy with an armbar suplex... Lansing hits Cassidy with a uranage, the official counting Cassidy down for 5... Cassidy hits Lansing with a sweet right hook, putting Lansing down for the count...] DD: A third man to be handed his release after last Thursday's show was "The Unbreakable" Trevor Lansing, who was on the losing end of a Last Man Standing match against the first hobo of wrestling, "The Jersey Drifter" Liam Cassidy. Cassidy may be short on technique, and arguably short on class, but one thing he's not short on is a powerful right hand, as Lansing found to his cost. Cassidy put Lansing out for the count, and he'll undoubtedly be on the receiving end of the winner's share of the purse again in future. [Cut to footage of the "Your Hero" Danny Daniels vs. Kolya Sudakov match that opened last week's RAMPAGE... Sudakov attacking Daniels right from the bell, mounting him and hitting him with palm strikes... official Bobby Belshee intercedes and drags Sudakov away from Daniels... Sudakov busts Daniels's lip open... Sudakov German suplexes Daniels, who rolls to his knees and is then immediately felled by a knee strike directly to his face... Daniels bounces back with a bulldog on Sudakov... Daniels dumps Sudakov to the outside... Daniels rips off his blood-soaked "YOUR HERO" t-shirt to reveal a clean yellow t-shirt underneath, reading "YOUR UNDEFEATED HERO"... Sudakov with the Pimp Slap on Daniels... Sudakov with the Violence Party on Daniels, trapped in the corner... official Bobby Belshee again tries ot pull Sudakov off Daniels... and Sudakov strikes Belshee, getting himself disqualified... Sudakov continues his assault on Daniels after the bell...] DD: Kolya Sudakov demonstrated that he is perhaps the most dangerous man in RCW right now with a devastating performance against "Your Hero" Danny Daniels. Daniels may have emerged with the win by disqualification, but he certainly didn't look like a winner as he was helped out of the ring after taking one hell of a beating from the Russian. All credit to Daniels, though: he took everything Sudakov threw at him and kept on coming. Is it possible that, underneath the goofy wraparound sunglasses and entrepeneurship, within Danny Daniels beats the heart of a true competitor? Only time will tell. [Cut back to Ditka, the RCW RAMPAGE logo now displayed behind him on the screen.] DD: Folks, when we come back, we'll run down the card for next Thursday night's RCW RAMPAGE, and hear from all the combatants in person. Plus we'll talk about RCW President Daniel Spreadbury's very special guest, who'll be in the ring in seven days' time. Don't you move a muscle! [Fade to commercials.] [Fade back from commercials:] ___ ______ __ / _ \/ ___/ | /| / / / , _/ /__ | |/ |/ / >< >< >< >< >< RAMPAGE RUNDOWN >< >< >< >< >< /_/|_|\___/ |__/|__/ [The screen behind Ditka now shows the Ticketmaster logo.] DD: Welcome back to On The Wire. Next Thursday night, another evening of the hardest-hitting wrestling entertainment anywhere in the north-west will be coming at you *live* from the Rose Garden right here in beautiful Portland, Oregon -- and you can be there in person. Get down to the Rose Garden box office in person, or click onto www.ticketmaster.com right now to ensure you don't miss one moment of the action. Let's run down the card. [The screen behind Ditka shows the faces of Owen Curtis and Paul Driscoll.] DD: Top of the card with a bullet is the match to decide the number one contender to Johnny Pleasence's RCW Championship. The man Pleasence beat, Owen Curtis, will face the man who defeated Mark Coleman last week, "Pistol" Paul Driscoll, to determine the man who will be first in line for a championship match. Curtis is certainly bent out of shape after his loss last Thursday night, and Driscoll is determined to capitalise on taking a step back towards the title that drives him to compete each and every night. At the conclusion of this match, one of these men will have a cast-iron contract for an RCW Championship match -- a valuable prize indeed. Let's hear from both men, beginning with Owen "Truth" Curtis. [Establishing shot: Nighttime. The sign on a rainy street in Old Town Portland says we're standing in front of the Boiler Room -- a small bar. You know, one of those with fake balconies on the inside. The main attractions seem to be the pool tables and the karaoke. Second shot: We are inside, looking close up at the bar. A hand grabs an empty beer mug off the shelf, and the frame follows as the mug is placed on the counter and filled with Guinness Stout. Next, the hand of the bartender reaches for a shot glass and fills it most of the way with Jameson Irish whiskey, topping that off with some Bailey's Irish Cream. Finally, the barkeep picks up the beer mug and the shot glass and sets them both in front of a bar patron shown at chest level only -- face cropped out at the top. He's got on a blue shirt and a tan knitted tie.] VOICE: I don't know. Looks pretty disgusting. [But someone else, just out of the frame to the right, is egging him on.] VOICE 2: Nah, man! You gotta try it! It's called an Irish Car Bomb! It'll take the edge right off! But drink it quick -- you don't want it to curdle. You've gotta guzzle it! [This second man leads others in the bar in a chant.] OTHERS: Go! Go! Go! Go! Go! [The man in the blue shirt takes a deep breath, picks up the shot glass, dumps the contents into the Guiness, and then chugs the whole thing quickly, slamming the mug down with authority when finished. He wipes a slight amount of overflow and foam off his face with the back of his hand -- and it's now that we see this is Owen "Truth" Curtis. The shot widens to show us Eddie "Flash" Curtis slapping him on the back.] OWEN "TRUTH" CUTIS: Damn. That was brutal. I think I'd rather drink Gunnar's wood grain, regardless of what it does to careers. Now tell me again, Eddie... _why_ did you think it would be a good idea to begin my promo by drinking that... that... vile concoction? [Maybe Eddie can't remember. Maybe he's too busy laughing at the disgusted expression on his older brother's face.] EDDIE "FLASH" CURTIS: Why did I? Right. Oh yeah. It was to prove you could take an Irish Car Bomb, which you just did. Irish Car Bomb? [Sounds logical to Eddie. But Owen looks puzzled, so Eddie helps him understand.] EFC: You know... Paul Driscoll's finisher? [Finally it registers with Owen, who's normally not slow to pick up on things. Not even after he's been drinking.] OTC: [annoyed] _That's_ what he calls that Death Valley Driver? I thought he was supposed to be from Texas, with another of those hokey cowboy accents you see everywhere in wrestling, and two pistols tatooed on his shoulder or something. That's got about as much to do with Ireland as Madrock has to do with speech therapists. EFC: Good point, bro. [But the compliment doesn't do anything to stem Owen's rising tide of irritability.] OTC: Yeah. So, let's talk about Driscoll. Actually, let's talk about Johnny Pleasence, who is the reason that me and Driscoll have to fight it out in a week. The winner gets to take on Pleasence for the title, and the loser gets squat. Pleasence... I'm not through with you. You did something I didn't think you could, and that's take a title you don't want away from someone who does. That's really why I'm here in this bar. I want to forget that even happened, but the thing is, I can't. [Someone walks up to Owen. It's a bar employee.] EMPLOYEE: Sir? You're getting a bit loud. We have karaoke going on here, you know. [Sure enough, a young woman is trying to belt out "Happy When It Rains."] OTC: Look, I can see some dumb, overpierced goth chick murder a melody any night of the week here. I've got a match to promote, and you're lucky I happened to pick your dumpy dive to do it in, so dial that Shirley Manson wannabe down a few notches. It's not like she's any good -- and that's the Truth. The fact is that it's just like I said before. The Rip City title is just a hostage in the hands of Johnny Pleasence, and I'm coming to return it to a more respectable place, namely, my waist. Eighty times out of a hundred, I beat him for that belt, but there are those times when he wins it, and last week just happened to be one of those times. With a rematch, the odds are back with me, and that's the Truth. Problem is, Paul Driscoll happens to be in the way of that. To beat up that silly, smoking scouse git Johnny, first I have to get past pistol-packing Paul, he of the famous Driscoll family. [He keeps speaking, firing off his words, not pausing even for a second to let the employee cut off his speech.] OTC: You know, Paul, I brushed up on your history and I think I understand you pretty well. Not in a Brokeback kinda way, being that you ARE a cowboy and all, but just psychologically. You see, I've traveled your journey and walked your dusty paths. I just haven't done it in your cliched, dimwitted redneck cowboy way. I know what it's like to have a left leg that hurts like hell all day long. And I know what it's like to enter this business in my early 20s and show great promise, only to see dreams vanish into thin air. Finally, I know what it's like to come back a little older, a little wiser, a little stronger, and with a lot more resolve. It's no wonder both of us got so close to the Rip City title only to see it slip away. We're adults. We know what's at stake, and we know opportunities are precious. And speaking of precious chances, now we must face off against each other to get that second chance at championship glory. I say good luck to you, but I'll tell you something. The way to beat Pleasence is NOT to punch his lights out, but to tie him up in knots and get his shoulders down for the three, which I almost managed to do. That's where I have a distinct advantage. You're going to see that next Wednesday night when I use that advantage against you. You're a brawler. I'm the best technician this league has to offer. A technician beats a brawler almost every time, and why? Because it says "wrestling" on the marquee, and because you can't hit me so well once I take you down to the mat. I know every amateur move -- every takedown, every reversal, every leverage move, and every pinning combination. You, on the other hand, know a discus punch. A discus punch! It's like the comic strip "Garfield." You know the dog? Odie? Well, he has to turn around three times to lie down. Why? Because he's just THAT damn stupid. Well, _you_, Driscoll -- you have to turn around three times just to hit someone. That's even dumber. Tell you what -- you hit me with that, OR with your Bailey's Irish Cream, and you DESERVE to go on to a title rematch. I'm not worried because it ain't gonna happen. EMPLOYEE: Sir? You didn't heed our request to keep it down. We're going to have to ask you to leave. OTC: That's fine. Eddie's been bugging me to watch him sing "Baby Got Back," and I don't wanna be here for that anyway. A little decorum and a little dignity are not bad things. [We follow as Owen and Eddie set a course for the exit sign. Others -- wrestling fans, as well as people who will go anywhere a TV camera goes -- well, they follow and try to keep up.] OTC: Next Thursday. Rip City Rampage. I may have been detoured, but my road still leads to the same destination -- the Rip City Heavyweight Title. It's just taking longer to get there. I may have missed my chance to be the first, but I've not missed my chance to be the _best_. Driscoll, we both lost to that nihilistic nitwit Johnny, but I'm the only one that can learn from it and beat him on the second try. You can deny it all you want... but there's no denying the Truth. [Owen and Eddie are at the door.] OTC: Oh. And you fans? Following me to the door here? I appreciate the support during my last match, but it was about as useful as a butthole right here. [He points, of course, to his elbow.] OTC: I only ended up thinking my power was greater than it was, and that, to be honest, just made it less than it was. So this time? I'm doing it for me. Nothing personal. It's just that the Truth ... is not a popularity contest. I don't tailor the Truth to your preferences; rather, you tailor your perceptions to the Truth, because the Truth IS the Truth. You got that? You will. If you like it, great; if not, buzz off. [He looks right into the camera lens.] OTC: That goes for all of you. [Owen pulls the door open, he and Eddie pass through it, and it swings shut behind them. They aren't followed. We wipe-cut to see a newspaper being opened forcefully. Calloused, leather-looking hands turn the pages, contracting and releasing the paper each time. The newspaper is folded and rolled up, as the camera focuses on "Pistol" Paul Driscoll, standing in front of an RCW banner, dressed in blue jeans, t-shirt with the Heinken star on it, and leather vest. His longish brown hair is slicked back and wet, as usual. Paul throws the toothpick in his mouth to the side, and drums the rolled up paper into an open palm.] PD: Kinda hard to dispel an urban legend. Walk around in jeans an' boots, call Texas yer home and talk with a slight accent, an' yer branded as dumb. I know how it is, I faced it all my life. Paul Driscoll's from Texas, he's dumber'n hell. Ha ha, listen to him talk. Owen Curtis is probably sayin' that right now. I mean, he's the one with the journalism degree, not me. I didn't even go to college, jus' wasn't my thing. But that don't mean I ain't learned a thing or two about the writin' business. [Driscoll begins to pace, drumming the paper in his hand.] PD: When I was gettin' fixed up after the knee, I spent a whole lotta time in a hospital bed, Curtis. You know what that's like, I'm sure. An', well hell, I seen every episode o' General Hospital ever, an' I got bored with the Young'n the Restless. So I took me one o' them "correspondence courses". In Journalism. Hmmm. An' one o' the few things I remember is somethin' about... sensationalism. Ring a bell, Owen "The Truth" Curtis? Now, I might be wrong here but I recall 'at sensationalism was somethin' about a writer, such as yerself, blowin' events out o' proportion to sell an issue. Makin' the audience think 'at somethin' is more important than it really is. An' it seems to me 'at sensationalism is what yer best at, Curtis, because I seen them PSA's ya filmed. Standin' in a sewer, talkin' about poop comin' down the chute... ha ha ha, nice little play on words there, sport. Talkin' down to everyone, tryin' to make yerself out to be some superior min', an' some superior wrestler. But the truth, as you probably said nine thousand times by now... the truth hurts. An' when ya put yerself into the forum o' public opinion, you gotta be square with the feedback yer given. Wanna hear my feedback? [Well?] PD: Sure ya do. As a reporter, ya ain't no Tom Brokaw. I suspect them Portland officials kicked ya out of the goddamn sewer jus' like the government kicked out Geraldo Rivera from Afghanistan. Personally, I'd have let ya stay with the rest o' the turds, where ya might feel comfortable. But hey... [Driscoll holds his hands up to the camera.] PD: The world o' eye witness reporting ain't my thing. The world o' wrestling _is_... ...an' yer doin' jus' as bad here. This ain't a gay fashion expo, wearin' capes ain't gonna garner you nothin' but a broken nose. The eye shades, the five guys in the front row ya pay to chant yer name... that's not impressive, Ace. That's window dressing. That's you tryin' real hard to cover up "the cold hard truth". An' that is? You jus' ain't got it in that ring. Ya waltzed into a match with Coleman, got Christmas, Easter, Thanksgiving, Yom Kippur an' Groundhog Day all rolled into one when ya slid by him, an' then ya got rolled by Pleasence. Even though ya brought yer brother fer moral support, even though ya laid yer soul on the line 'bout what that title'd mean to ya. Whatever it meant to ya, it weren't enough. It weren't enough to make ya go that extra mile an' get the job done right. But yer a writer, Curtis, gettin' things right ain't yer strong suit. ["Pistol" Paul shakes his head and waves the newspaper at the camera, peering straight into it.] PD: Shootin' straight ain't yer thing either, sport, but it ain't a problem fer me. I told Coleman to his face that if I had to, I'd break his face off to get another shot at that strap. I didn't have to, but go ask 'im an' the rookie'll tell ya it came _real_ close. I did what I had to do to get this second shot, an' I want ya to pay real close attention to what I'm sayin' now, Owen. I know I got a bullseye on this got-damn knee o' mine... I know you got it over me in spades when it comes to mat wrestlin'... an' I know you want a second chance at that son of a bitch jus' as bad as I do. But yer lookin' at a man who don't come with no song'n dance, yer lookin' at a guy who comes to the ring in boots, trunks an' ready to throwdown. No paid jackasses chantin' my name, no fancy ring attire... no window dressing. Jus' me. No sensationalism needed. No exaggeration necessary. I'm stripped down and bared to the world, have been since day one. What ya see is what ya get. I'm the same man standin' in front of this banner as I am standin' in that ring... 'cept now I'm holding a newspaper. [Driscoll flicks the paper out of the picture.] PD: An' when you get in that ring with me, with a shot at the strap on the line... when there ain't nothin' between you an' me but Jesus, yer gonna find that all the hype ya give yerself, all the tactics you use to sell yerself to the people... it can't hide ya anymore. An' I'd like for ya to remember this little phrase I heard, hell if I know where, but it goes like this: money talks an' bulls[BLEEP!] walks. 'cept fer you, Curtis. [Driscoll suddenly becomes a lot less friednly, his voice dropping into a growl.] PD: Yer gettin' carried out. [Cut back to Ditka in the studio, as the image on the screen behind him changes to show the sneering visage of the RCW Champion.] DD: That match between Driscoll and Curtis is really going to be something, folks -- you won't want to miss it. And what of the man they're duking it out to get the right to face, the new RCW Champion, Johnny Pleasence? Let's hear from the Big Bad himself, right now. [We fade into blackness. There's nothing except a voice.] V: No lights. No questions. No rants about what should not be. Nothing... but darkness. That's how I like it, children. [A lighter flares up, illuminating Johnny Pleasence, the new RCW World Champion, for a brief moment, before blackness returns... save for the cherry of the Big Bad's cigarette.] JP: A lot of you have a problem with me as of late- hell, Ditka and Shakespeare finally saw eye-to-eye concerning me wearing this gold... not that it matters any, but... [Pleasence takes another pull off his cigarette, the cherry burning brightly.] JP: At least I made you _care_, Rip City. At least you know what it's like to want something... mainly, my head. But don't think you're gonna get it. [The cherry burns yet again, as Pleasence inhales.] JP: You don't know how long I've waited for this. You don't know what I've gone through to get to this point,.. fed after fed, looking for that one spot that would complete my career... and when I arrived here in Oregon... _I had to take it_. [The lighter flares up briefly, as Pleasence gets up from where he was sitting and walks out of the shot. Lights come on, and it's revealed that Pleasence has been chilling'in his locker room in the dark until now. Pleasence walks back into the frame, and just shakes his head.] JP: _None of you_ realized that what I did in that ring for that belt was _genuine_. _None of you_ gave me my due. _None of you_ . A whole organization's against me -- no friends, no allies... _yet_. You see, eventually, some of you will come around. You'll finally understand that the Big Bad speaks the _truth_... unlike, good ol' Owen. [Pleasence chuckles.] JP: I have to hand it to you, mate... you tried, you really did. But, when everything you amount to in Rip City involves either something you wrote for the federation's official website or some cousin of yours interviewing you... you won't make it far. Stop living in your own skull, you git- your career will thank you when you do, Then, we got Paul Driscoll. [Pleasence shakes his head.] JP: Now there's a man that doesn't react when reality slaps him in the face and tells him that he's a loser. He keeps on staring ahead blankly, repeating the same old sentiments our wrestling forefathers have said time and time again while trying not to vomit on themselves -- newsflash, pal -- just because you say it in a public setting with an accent doesn't mean people will take you seriously. You think your knee's gonna be better the next time you face me? Here's what'd give you a head start: _replace it_. Even then, it'll still be damned bad and ripe for the picking. Bad joints are bad joints, you damned toerag. In the end, it's your loss. Hell, it's everyone's loss. _Again_. [Pleasence smirks.] JP: Trust me, Rip City... good times are here again. Your Champion shall represent you to the fullest... for I have been denied no more. The Big Bad reigns supreme... and you? Kneel... Kneel before your Unwanted God, Otherwise? _Smite_. [And with that, we fade to black. Cut back to Ditka in the studio.] DD: Johnny Pleasence is most certainly not short on confidence. But as long as he's carrying the RCW Championship, he's going to be a marked man -- and time will tell how good Pleasence turns out to be at dealing with being the centre of attention. [The screen behind Ditka now shows the faces of Madrock the Irrepressible and Orin "The Lynx" LeBlanc.] DD: Moving on. Two men who were on the winning end of the draw last Thursday night go one-on-one this coming week. Giant Australian, Madrock the Irrepressible, has lost his protegˇ Bailey Fitzgerald, but he's lost none of his enthusiasm. Let's hear from him, and then we'll hear from RCW's sole Canadian, Orin LeBlanc, who had his problems with "Golden Boy" Nolan Dorado last week, but came out on top. [Madrock the Irrepressible is a six foot two, three-hundred plus pound crazed Australian raised in the mean streets of East London. Although hardly comprehensible due to his thick Cockney dialect and the little amount of teeth left in his mouth, the sheer terror he inspires once angered is as undeniable, as is the amount of destruction he carries out with his huge arms. Please keep that in mind as we begin this TV segment already in progress, camera on Madrock the Irrepressible arguing away over the telephone, presumably with someone from RCW management.] M: Oi, waddaya mean they fired da Charlie Brown?? ... who? BAILEY! dat's 'oo! I wuz groomin' da lad, teachin' him how to scrap proper and stand up for 'imself! Heck, I wuz teachin' him RUGBY! ... Released? Don't give me dat bunk you liberty-takin' piece o' garbage, it means da same 'fing as fired anyways, an' I wanna know why! ... Not a knock on him? I'll show you a knock, I'll knock seven bells outta you -- 'ello... 'ello??? [As Madrock keeps on screaming into the telephone, here comes RCW's very own interviewer Jamie Bond, entering stage right in his own inimitable manner (imitated from Madrock).] JG: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH... M: SHUT YER EFFIN' GOB OR SO 'ELP ME I WILL SERVE YOU THE RIGHT BOLLOCKING YOU ARE NEEDLIN' ME FOR! [Jamie Bond runs away and hides behind a garbage bin.] M: Can't even hold a decent conversation over the Sharon!... Dat's the phone, if yer still listenin' to me, what wif yer knobby knees quackin' behind the rubbish bin. [Jamie Bond meekly peeks over the garbage bin. Undaunted, Jamie has the good measure of tying his microphone to a near-lying broom and inching the object ever nearer towards the mad Australian. Madrock hangs up the phone with gusto, freezing the timid interviewer in his tracks. Madrock is flaring at the nostrils, still furious over the news just heard.] M: Man, what a load o'cobblers. Jake Andrews? Yeah, when 'ee went comin' down Abbott's Peak I knocked him up for six and you won't hear of that twerp anytime soon; but Bailey? 'Ee was a crackin' lad. JAMIE! Git yer 'ead out from outta da garbage: our new "chump" is a stinkin' piece uv' EUROTRASH and yer sittin' innis rez'dency! Calls 'imself da Lord uv' darkness 'ee does, pro'bly cuz I'll knock his lights out whenever I see him! Oh they'll fire a fine chap like da Charlie Brown, but look at the slimy boogers they kept in his place! We got ruskies, we got "Our no-fightin' Zero" Donny Darko... JB: Actually Madrock sir, he's "Our undefeatable hero", Danny Daniels... although having Donny Darko join our wrestling federation WOULD kick unprecedented amount of ass. What I'm saying is that the man has gained quite a following in the RCW, almost at your expense! M: An' that's the problem wif the whole deal! See, when I said dat Bailey wuz crackin', you know wot else wuz crackin'? Eggs! An' there's not a worst, more foul smellin' runny egg den the Donny Dannels! JB: Huh? M: Let me explain. Take the whitest, pastiest, most pa'fetic little daisy-pluckin' shut-in you can find. Now put a bright yellow t-shirt inna middle. What do you get? JB: An egg! Sunny side up! M: Where I'z from we call those runny eggs and Danny boy iz da runningest uv' dem all! He's runnin' his mawf thinking we're all in on his joke, little he knows we laugh cuz he looks like egg yoke! Oh, pity my ears cuz I heard him talk, an' da drivel he spews to the people would have them believe that black is white, that wrong is right; well when you say Madrock can't fight, YOU PLAY WIF DYNOMITE!! An' if Orin LeBlanc iz sittin' at home in Canuckistan wonderin' wot da heck Madrock the Irrepressible iz talkin' about, den listen up! Up 'till now, you've been amblin' about, beating up wot guys in yer ways and I suppose dat's a good enuff life ta live... But if you've lissened to ever'fing dat the Madrock has had to say, then you know dat 'ees walking wif a PURPOSE! [Madrock grabs the mic from the broom to which it is attached and says the following with passion!] M: When your stompin' ground is filled with garbage and people don't even know what's right anymore, it takes a man from down under to turn every'fing upside down and rightside up again! Orin: you've done good fer yerself, ambling around this fed and taking your victories, but me? I ain't amblin', I'm steppin'! I'm stompin'! I'm stampin' my way across the Portland plains and flattenin' every'fing in my way! Cuz if I don't play hero here, who will? Vinny Carm'zzy? Mr. Squeaky Clean? If you wanna be a star uv' da wrestling scene then you better get ruff an' mean, an' who's da tuffest chap you've evva seen? DA BANE UV' BRISBANE! DA MONSTER FROM ALMUNSTER! 'EES DA FREAK UP ABBOTTS PEAK AND NOT SOME FANCY GOBURMENT PROTECTED CAT! THAT'S 'OO!!! [Madrock ponctuates the challenge with a mighty bellow, thumping his mighty chest before stomping the ground repeatedly, causing the entire room to shake! Jamie Bond steps out as Madrock snarls one final time at the camera, putting the interview to an end. We wipe-cut to the interior of a gym. Off in the distance, it sounds like a punching bag getting hit can be heard. Panning over, the source of the sound is confirmed as we spy a grim-faced Orin "The Lynx" LeBlanc jabbing rights and left. His eyes briefly dart towards the camera, then back to the bag as an annoyed grunt escapes him.] OL: I should make you techies invest in beepers or somethin' so you all know when is an appropriate time for me to be talkin'. 'Cause right now, I am not in a particular mind for pleasantries, so if anyone finds me now a touch on the rough? [The Lynx lashes out with a hard right, sending the bag teetering back and forth.] OL: Tough. [He places a hand out to steady the bag.] OL: I've been feelin' a little...unsatisfied with the way matters have been goin'. Now, folks might think I shouldn't be complainin'. That I should just smile, nod my head an' take my victories as they are. That ain't enough for me. [LeBlanc snorts.] OL: See, Mister Goldenrod chose to start somethin' last time around an' then ducked out before he could suffer the consequences that his actions done brought upon himself! An' that ain't proper in my book o' accounts. So until I can see that Noli has settled his tab in full to my satisfaction, I got some unspent aggression still burnin' about in my veins. [A cold smile starts to spread across the Lynx's face.] OL: Now rationally, I shouldn't have any issues with our big Australian. After all, there was that teamin' a few weeks back. But my mood's taken a funny turn. An' goin' back over the tapes... well, I wasn't expectin' all buddy-buddy an' a case o' Coopers, but I tend to get testy when my gratitude an' offer o' back-watchin' is met with an "I don't care". Leastaways, that's how I translated it. Tough task there, by the way. I'm sure that even Crocodile Hunter an' Crocodile Dundee with all their quaint colloquialisms are cringin' at all the verbal violations one o' their countrymen did to Down Under English. To say nothin' o' the butcherin' o' my name. Different enough, but at least it don't border on the thesaurus rape my opponent could be charged with... [Pause. Orin frowns.] OL: That IS a nasty trend I'm findin' here. Folks takin' liberties with my name. Guess between that or playin' the "I'm too good for talkin'" card, I can't win. [He chuckles drily.] OL: That too will need to be rectified, though at least the professionals at the booth are doin' it right. As well as the Man Upstairs signin' off on my pay. [He shakes his head a little, then narrows his eyes at the camera.] OL: My time's been infringed upon enough. I got strategizin' against Rugby to do... an' there's still a weed that needs to be plucked. Go. [The Lynx turns back to the bag and resumes his punches. Taking that not so subtle hint, the camera pulls away, and we cut back to Ditka in the studio.] DD: We'll be right back after these messages, folks. [Fade to commercials.] [Fade back to Ditka in the studio, the monitor behind him showing the face of "Golden Boy" Nolan Dorado and the visage of another, as-yet unknown wrestler.] DD: Welcome back, folks. "Golden Boy" Nolan Dorado has impressed in all of his outings so far here in RCW, but to date he's yet to pick up a single victory. That statistic will be weighing heavily on his mind as he steps into the ring next Thursday night against a legend of the luchadors, "Supercat" Salvador Maeso. Let's hear from both of the men involved in this match. [The scene switches to a close-up of a pair of muscular shoulders, the tanned skin sheathed in some unidentifiable oil as a pair of heavily-manicured female hands slide into view and begin squeezing the thick muscles along the tops of the shoulders. The camera pans out to reveal that the shoulders belong to "Golden Boy" Nolan Dorado who is lying facedown and presumably naked on a massage table, covered only by a towel over his hips while the buxom Jodee Burwick leans over him, rubbing his biceps. Despite the relaxing effect this exercise is supposed to have, Dorado's face is disfigured by an angry scowl as he leans his chin across his folded forearms.] JB: You need to loosen up, baby. Your muscles are tied up in all sorts of knots! ND: Loosen up? How can I loosen up when that Carmazzi chump is lobbying for the #1 contendership while I'm wasting my time with overgrown Canuckleheads!! [At the mention of LeBlanc, a dreamy expression falls across Jodee's face as her bee-stung lips curve upward into a smile. Dorado's eyes flick menacingly over toward the camera.] ND: You keep your stinkin' mouth SHUT! [From off-camera, presumably where the cameraman's face would be, a muffled: "But I didn't say anything!" protest can barely be heard but it is quickly silenced by another angry glare from Dorado.] ND: It's bad enough that Carmazzi embarrassed me right in the middle of the ring but now I'm slumming it while he gets to flirt with the idea of challenging for the title! [Visibly rousing herself from some unknown (and likely erotic) daydream, Jodee continues to massage Dorado's back.] JB: Don't you worry, baby. Your shot is going to come soon enough. And then the "Golden Days" will truly be here, right? ND: I'm zero and two, Jodee! And I let myself get distracted so that overgrown goon had me on the ropes! [Jodee smiles in a satisfied fashion as she admiringly glances down towards her own ample cleavage.] JB: You still haven't thanked me for distracting the ref at the right time. ND: Hmph! Thanks... which brings up something else! [Pushing himself up onto his elbows, Dorado twists sideways so that he can look over his shoulder at the former cheerleader. Fortunately for the TV audience at home, his towel remains strategically in place.] ND: Don't think I didn't see that look on your face after that gorilla kissed you! What the hell was that about?!? [Jodee stammers for a moment.] JB: I... I... I was shocked, honey! How dare that big lug lay his hands on me! You're gonna make him pay for that, right? [Continuing to glare suspiciously at his (much) older girlfriend, Dorado frowns before turning back to lie flat on the table once more. Visibly relieved, Jodee resumes massaging his back.] ND: Damn right he's gonna pay! They're all gonna pay! Carmazzi... LeBlanc... they're all gonna learn the Golden Rule! [Pleased at his own segue into familiar verbal territory, Dorado smirks revealing his trademark golden caps on his incisors.] ND: The Golden Boy... rules! [Preoccupied by her own thoughts, Jodee stares off-camera and distractedly responds as she continues to rub Dorado's shoulders.] JB: Hmmm-hmmm. That's right, honey. You rule. [But as Dorado closes his eyes and finally begins to relax, the camera pans over to reveal the focus of the blonde bombshell's enraptured gaze. She is staring directly at an RCW promotional poster depicting none other than... Orin "The Lynx" LeBlanc. The scene switches to a generic stage setting with a large fabric backdrop hanging from the rear wall with a large "Rip City Wrestling" logo featured in the middle. In front of this backdrop stands a muscular Hispanic man wearing black wrestling tights on which snarling tiger's heads can be seen running down the sides of each leg. The man has long, wavy black hair with grey streaks visible at the temples. His smile is bright and wide but a faint web of scars can be seen on his forehead as he stares directly into the camera's lens.] Man: Hola amigos y amigas! I am "Supercat" Salvador Maeso and this coming Rampage, I will be making a special guest appearance for one night only! [Maeso's smile, if anything, grows even wider as he continues speaking with a thick Hispanic accent.] SM: I have been wrestling for many years now but it is always a pleasure for me to compete in front of the fans in Portland, Oregon. You are a special type of audience and I am really looking forward to demonstrating for you all why they call me... "The Supercat"! [The smile disappears as Maeso adopts a serious expression.] SM: Presidentˇ Spreadbury tells me I will be facing a man called "The Golden Boy" Nolan Dorado. Well, Mister Dorado, you better make a reservation at Fort Knox because the only thing golden about our match will be the stars you're going to be seeing, circling around your head! [Maeso laughs as he makes a horizontal circling motion with one finger.] SM: So if you don't want to miss me running circles around Senor Dorado, come on out to Rampage for this very special night. Buenas noches, everyone! I will see you soon! [And with that, the scene fades as Maeso continues to grin. Cut back to Don Ditka in the studio.] DD: That's going to be quite the match, folks. As it is when the maniacal Russian mixed martial-arts specialist Kolya Sudakov goes one-on-one with veteran grappler Vinny Carmazzi in another great singles match scheduled for next week's RAMPAGE. Let's hear from Vinny Carmazzi right now. [The scene fades in to a nearly vacant locker room. Rows of empty lockers and benches line the two visible walls. They're almost all bare. A man sits down on one of the benches. He's clearing out the last inhabited locker and places his worn-down items into a large black plastic bag. A clock hanging on the wall reveals the time to be 5:17. Probably A.M., considering who the man is and how quiet the Rose Garden appears to be at this hour. Vinny Carmazzi puts the last of his faded t-shirts into the bag. Right next to a rolled up wrestling mag from 1999 in which Vinny had his picture. The article was about someone who had just won his first World championship and went on to face Carmazzi in a non-title exhibition the following night. The champ wound up beating Vinny so badly that he had to spend the night in the local hospital. And it was all documented. Vinny keeps a copy, even though he wasn't mentioned by name. Just images of being chokeslammed and hit with a chair. After 12 years in this sport, it's still the only time he has ever been photographed for a wrestling magazine. It's a good thing he doesn't own a trophy case because this would probably be the only item. The only memorabilia that proves he was even in this sport. At least it fits easily in the bag.] VC: Security told me they can't keep covering for me. No more living in the locker room. Gotta find a place in town. [Vinny begins to tie the flaps together, but not before downing a pair of aspirin from his pill box.] VC: Been here a month already. Higher-ups told me I've shown enough so far to keep coming back. Three were cut. I wasn't one of them. That was nice to hear. [Vinny takes the bag off the bench and places it on the floor below. He looks directly at it.] VC: Don't got much to show after 12 years. This, an old car in the parking lot, and some random junk inside it. My life is usually what you see. [Even Vinny's expression conveys the meagerness of it all.] VC: But things may be starting to look up. Driscoll promised me something that might become a shot at the #1 contendership. Got a convincing submission victory three weeks ago. Another opportunity to climb the ladder next Thursday. [Optimism, but no apparent smile.] VC: Maybe it is time to put down some roots. Here in Portland. Not where I expected to wind up. But nothing ever goes according to expectations. There's possibility here. For the first time in my life. [Seems as if there wasn't much to say about Vinny back in '99 anyway.] VC: Nothing has gone according to plan for my opponent next Rampage. Kolya Sudakov. Impressive, but winless so far. But possibility for him too. He takes me out, gets his first Rip City win, and starts to climb a short ladder. 0 for everything so far, with his next match being a potential make-or-break. [Vinny straightens up on the bench. All his attention away from the possessions.] VC: I can imagine. A voice yelling in his ear. Painful thoughts of "What If?" Anger over missed opportunities. A desire to show everyone wrong. Change what they're seeing. A desperation that he can end if he only comes up big the next time. Eating away at him. A cold look in his eyes, that even though he says nothing, tells exactly what's going on inside him. [Carmazzi balls his left hand. Both his fist and face begin to redden.] VC: Get your mouthpiece. Have him tell you that I know all about it. You've had a bad month. I've had twelve years. You have Waterson, your agent-slash-weapon, with you. Never without him. But you have no idea what accompanies me all the time. [Vinny glares right down the center of the camera.] VC: Bring your five weeks of frustration. All your pissed. Any self-doubt. Bring your de facto tag team partner. Bring that idiotic glove. Bring all your fighting experience. Bring all the violence you can muster. Bring all the secrets that your eyes betray. Bring your "KILLER" mindset. Bring every means of intimidation you can find. Prepare every submission move in your arsenal. [Vinny doesn't even blink. Bloodshot eyes remain focused.] VC: And it won't be enough. Not even close. [Vinny starts to slowly move to the edge of the bench.] VC: Because you are not going to ruin the opportunities I've earned so far. What I've been able to do here in RCW. The possibilities that lay before me. The hell if you're getting in my way. [Deep breath. But his face remains red. His hands do not relax. They never do.] VC: You're not taking anything away from me. Do what you must. But I will not let you. [Vinny has inched all the way over. He sits on the very edge.] VC: You won't succeed. [Pause, but no hesitation.] VC: And you, Kolya, are very close to understanding why. [Vinny turns back to the bag beneath him. Cut back to Ditka in the studio.] DD: Wow. Vinny Carmazzi may be the most intense, the most determined competitor here in Rip City Wrestling, folks. Let's move on. Last week we heard that young Ryan Faith had been indefinitely suspended following him no-showing a number of booked appearances, including last Thursday night's big show. Faith quickly smoothed things out with the RCW front office and has been reinstated, though I understand he is now officially on notice. He'll be facing off against Tennessee rookie Mark Coleman next Thursday night in the Garden, so let's hear from both men, beginning with Faith himself. [Scene quickly opens up with Ryan Faith climbing out of his car with black duffel bag in hand. Ryan notices the cameras and looks ahead as his pace quickens. Almost as it trying to avoid the camera crew. Ryan continues this for a few feet until he realizes that they wont leave him alone. And so, he slows down and now nonchalantly looks at the camera.] RF: Suspended indefinitely? [Ryan just shakes his head as he continue walking towards the locker room area.] RF: Apparently the powers that be here need to know where a person is at all times. Its like I am under 24 hour surveillance. Big Brother constantly having to watch my every move. [Ryan looks around as if he's still being followed.] RF: I've been through some stuff. If that's what you all want to hear, then fine. That dad I talked about, the preacher... [pauses] RF: ...well, the old man is done for. He died of a heart attack about an hour before I had that match with Fitzgerald. But I still came out and you know what, I gave a hell of a match but it wasn't in me. If you think that was the best of what I had Bailey, well then you're about as stupid as your name implies. I had nothing in me. Fighting and trying to give all of what is me... it wasn't happening. That doesn't matter, cos you ran out of here with your tail between your legs because you heard I was coming back. After that match I walked straight out of the ring, through the back.. and out of the building. I hopped into my car and just started driving. They tried calling me on my cell phone, but I wouldn't pick up. Then I find out from a friend that they have me booked in a match with I don't even know who against Bailey and Madrock. [Ryan finally arrives to his locker room.] RF: You want to suspend me indefinitely? Its not going to work. Because you see, no one has ever been able to control me. No one has been able to tell me what to do or how to lead my life. But those things... they're about to change. This week we have Coleman being the unfortunate person who has to face me in my "return". You see, I have a lot of pent up frustration, anger, depression... [Ryan pounds his fist into the locker room door.] RF: _HATE_! [Ryan leans forward and places his head on the door to the locker room.] RF: I don't think anyone here really has stopped to think about what I am truly capable of. My entire life trying to please other people. Now the last person I ever tried to make happy is dead. I don't have to live up to appearances or false promises anymore. I don't have to be what I am not. And that's the unfortunate thing for the RCW. That's when things start to go bad and things start to happen to people. That's when your heroes start to crumble and your idols fall off of their pedestals. That's when the frauds are revealed as such. [Ryan lifts his head back up and smirks] RF: They didn't want me to come back because they knew I was coming back a changed man. There was a small string keeping me attached, keeping me from completely reverting back to the man that everyone remembers, keeping me from falling into a dark abyss. I left because I thought I wanted someone to repair that damage. I thought I wanted the grip to tighten so that I would not fall into the madness. Instead... [Ryan uses his fingers to make a scissors motion.] RF: I cut the final string. I cut the final piece and embraced the fall. All of you walk around with constraints. Sometimes in life you have to know when to sever all ties. I know I was able to. Question is, can the rest of you no souled, gutless cowards cut yourself off from the ties that bind you? Coleman? Can you? Can you exist outside the limitations placed on you by the world and by the wrestling industry? [Pauses as if waiting for an answer.] RF: Or... better yet... are you ready to test you faith? [As Faith stalks out of shot, we wipe-cut to footage shot backstage at the Rose Garden. It's mere moments after the end of RAMPAGE, and we can still hear the hot crowd, boos and jeers evident as they rain down upon the Big Bad, the new RCW Heavyweight Champion, one Johnny Pleasence. The noise can be heard from the nearby curtains, where a group of RCW staff, wrestlers, and technicians had gathered to watch the match from backstage. As the crowd continues to react, the group splinters off, each group discussing what they just saw and how they feel about it. One man, however, slips off by himself, hands in the pockets of his sweatpants, shaking his head. The camera chooses to focus on this man, and as the cameraperson approaches him, Mark Coleman looks up and blinks as the shot stabilizes on him.] MC: Whoa. Cameraperson: Mark! If it's not too much trouble, could I get your reaction to the match we just saw, and your thoughts on our new RCW champion? [The young Tennessee native blinks, trying to focus and collect his thought as he's verbally deluged.] MC: Give me a second here... you guys picking up on this awfully quick. Cameraperson: Well, this is a huge event, and I figured you've probably got an opinion on what we just saw. MC: Damn right I do. You want my gut reaction to what just happened? Alright. [Coleman raises one massive arm and points out the curtains, to where the fans are still reacting loudly.] MC: That man out there, from Manchester, our brand spankin' new champion? He's 'bout the lowest type of human being I've ever seen in my short run in this sport. And I've dealt with indy promoters. Cameraperson: Heh... MC: Naw, don't laugh. Bein' deadly serious here. Ain't ever seen a sadder sight in my days then what I just saw a minute ago. Man like Pleasence, ain't much deservin' to be champion in my mind. Sure, he won the tournament. Sure, he beat Owen Curtis...who I couldn't, so I may not have much of a leg to stand on with this, but never mind that...and sure, he got the one, two, and three with the Johnny Spike. We're in this business to win, and he pulled that off tonight in front of everyone. But that sure as hell don't mean I gotta respect him. Which I don't. I question his methods, I question the way he wrestlers, I question his actions, and I DAMN sure question his taste in women...ain't how I do things. Now, course, I ain't a champion, and he is. Again, puttin' that to the side. What I saw out there? Made me sick to my damn stomach. Man in this sport, he should have the skill and talent to stand on his own two feet and look across the ring, knowin' he can beat that guy clean and sober. Pleasence, in my mind, sure as hell proved tonight he COULDN'T. Steel chairs? Smokin' while wrestling? And his damn actions after winning a belt that a lot of people outside RCW are talkin' about as already bein' damn worthwhile, considerin' the talent that went out for it...and Pleasence sure as hell might as well threw it down and spit on it, far as I'm concerned. Now, Paul Driscoll beat me tonight. Fair and plain, one, two, three. You see me usin' a chair? You see me attackin' him after he was declared the winner? You see me with someone...my Grandma would flat out say this person was crazier then a marmalade covered polecat in a barrel full of ants, and while that's bein' generous to Matilda Agutter, I ain't all that far from the truth. I ain't involved in next week's match betwen Owen Curtis and Paul Driscoll. Lost my shot at the #1 contender's spot because of my loss. But gonna head out and say this anyway, even though ain't got a leg to stand on. You make sure you record this, okay? Cameraperson: Oh, I got it. This is gold. MC: Fine. Johnny Pleasence...don't forget about Mark Coleman. My Momma raised me right, and I know, in this world, gotta earn your place, earn your spot, earn your keep. Right now, I ain't in the RCW title picture. Which means you...you're safe. You're secure. And I'm sure Curtis or Driscoll are the two men on your mind right now, and if they ain't you should be. Gonan say this, though. Keep an eye on me, Pleasence. Keep an eye on Mark Coleman, the most talented wrestler in the RCW right now. Damn sure more talented then you are. Because I'm gonna do what I always do. Work hard. Keep tryin'. Hopefully start winnin'. And when I claw my way to the #1 contender's spot for the gold you're gonna be sportin' around your waist...I hope to the Lord Almighty you're still walkin' around with it. Because if I get the chance to put a loudmouth like you in your place, damn sure gonna take it. You flat out make me sick, and right now, I'm gonna do all I can to make sure, some point, gonna be you-and-me, man-to-man, in the ring at some point. Hopefully for the gold. And if it ain't for the gold... [Coleman, for the first time, manages to flash his easy smile] MC: ...I won't be TOO disappointed. Okay...said all I got to say. If you don't mind, gonna get away from here before I tell you what I REALLY think. [Coleman gives a nod to the camera, and we fade out as he walks past the cameraperson and off-camera. Cut back to Ditka in the studio.] DD: Well, folks, that runs down the blockbuster matches all set for next Thursday night's event. Be sure not to miss your opportunity to be there in person: click onto www.ticketmaster.com or get yourself down to the Rose Garden box office in person to secure one of the last few remaining tickets. [The screen behind Ditka now shows the bespectacled face of RCW President Daniel Spreadbury.] DD: As if those matches weren't reason enough to make sure you don't miss any of the action in the Rose Garden next Thursday night, don't forget that RCW President Daniel Spreadbury has promised that a good friend of his, a legend of the squared circle, will be standing in the RCW ring, *live* and in living colour. We still don't know who this special guest is -- but given that Spreadbury has the numbers of just about every big star in this business over the past ten years in his Rolodex, I think chances are very good that it's going to be an absolutely huge, huge way to kick off next week's show. [The screen behind Ditka now shows the date "16 July 2006" in big, bold letters.] DD: And just before we sign off for tonight, folks, you may have missed the huge announcement, but here it is again: RCW will run its first-ever pay-per-view event on Sunday 16 July 2006. The venue is yet to be confirmed, as is the name of the event, but you can bet that every RCW wrestler is going to be gunning for a spot on that show and a chance to bring home the bacon. We'll have many more details about this event in the coming weeks right here on On The Wire, that's for sure. [Cut to another shot of Ditka, who turns to face the new camera.] DD: Well, folks, that's going to wrap it up for this week's edition of RCW On The Wire, the world of professional wrestling in 60 minutes. Join us right here on KPDX 49 next Thursday night for the best hour of entertainment anywhere on the dial, RCW RAMPAGE, and we'll be back here in the RCW Control Center two weeks from tonight with another edition of your favourite wrestling-related magazine show. Until next Thursday night, when I'll be in the Garden along with nearly 20,000 rabid wrestling fans, this is Don Ditka on behalf of everybody at Rip City Wrestling wishing you a very good night. We'll leave you with comments from "Your Hero" Danny Daniels. So long, everybody! [The camera pulls back as the lights in the RCW studio fade and Ditka begins shuffling the papers on his desk. We cut to see 'Your Hero' Danny Daniels wheeling a TV/VCR combination on a portable cart. It's already plugged in. Danny's wearing his wraparound sunglasses, a golden 'Your Hero' t-shirt, and his usual goofy grin. He gives a 'thumbs up' to the camera as he finishes wheeling in the cart.] D'YH'D: Greetings and Salutations! Danny 'Your STILL UNDEFEATED Hero' Daniels here. But you already know that. You were able to witness my triumphant victory over Koala Sudafed last week. I had the eye of the tiger, the cream of the fight, rising up to the challenge of my rival, Koala. And the last known survivor was... ME! Danny 'Your Hero' Daniels. [Danny smiles at the camera.] D'YH'D: Now, since I'm not wrestling next week, I understand that all of you fans are deprived of watching me in action. But fear not! Because I'm just that kind of generous dude, I thought I'd give you the pleasure of a special interview of me by my favorite interviewer! [Danny turns on the TV, hits the 'Play' button on the VCR, and on the screen is... Danny Daniels. Same shirt, same sunglasses, same grin, only now with a microphone and hat on. The new Daniels speaks.] D'YH'D (in the tv screen): Thanks for taking the time to answer my questions, Danny. Or should I call you 'Your Hero'? D'YH'D: Not a problem, and call me Danny! We're good buddies! D'YH'D(tv): That we are. Now Danny, what do you attribute to your undefeated streak in RCW? D'YH'D: Great question! Obviously, my incredible talents are the starting point. But I also have to consider my fans. Every single day, they wake up, knowing that they can turn to... ME! Danny Daniels, as their inspiration. To let them down as their Hero would be devastating. Why, they might turn to drugs and death without my guidance! An entire generation of fans, wiped off the map, without me to show them the path to herodom! D'YH'D(tv): [shaking his head] That would be a tragedy. D'YH'D: Yes, ye... (while at the same time) D'YH'D(tv): Danny, why... [Both Dannys laugh.] D'YH'D(tv): I'm sorry, Danny. Go ahead. D'YH'D: No, no... you first. D'YH'D(tv): Thanks, Danny. Now, I've heard rumors that at the last show, every single RCW was wearing these styling shirts [points to the 'Your Hero' shirt that he's wearing onscreen.] D'YH'D: Well, I don't like to brag, but... they were. Koala was, and Orbean the Cat. Maddock -- the big guy from Boston -- he had sewn two of them together so there was one big enough for him. Curtis 'The Truth' Owens was saying how he never felt happier than he did wearing one of these fine shirts. Even President Spatsbury was wearing one and asking for two more -- one for his girlfriend and the other for his wife. D'YH'D(tv): I'm surprised you haven't run out of them, Danny. D'YH'D: Well, they are a limited edition... [Both chuckle.] D'YH'D(tv): I'm glad I've already gotten mine. D'YH'D: As well you should! But we still have some available. And there's a special this week only! One for sixteen dollars, or two for forty-five dollars! D'YH'D(tv): What...A...Deal! D'YH'D: For the fans, it's worth it. After all, they can't see me wrestle this week, but they can at least look like... ME! Danny 'Your Hero' Daniels. D'YH'D(tv): A man so nice they named him twice. D'YH'D: So true. D'YH'D(tv): Danny, I want to thank you for taking your precious time to answer my questions. D'YH'D: Anytime. It's the least I can do. [Both Danny's then speak at the same time.] D'YH'D and D'YH'D(tv): TOODLES~! [We fade out.] ____________________________________________________________________ / Copyright (C) 2006 Rip City Wrestling, Inc. All rights reserved. / / www.ripcitywrestling.com / /___________________________________________________________________/