[The high-tempo heavy guitar riff of Black Sabbath's "The Mob Rules" thrashes away as we see footage from previous RCW matches...] # Close the city and tell the people that # something's coming to call # Death and darkness are rushing forward to # take a bite from the wall, oh [...David Cross goes for a suplex, but Christian Right blocks, and counters with a DDT... David Cross goes for the Ashes To Ashes powerbomb, but Right slips out behind Cross, hits him with a kick to the midsection, and then scores the Crucifix slam...] # You've nothing to say # They're breaking away # If you listen to fools... # The mob rules # The mob rules [...Rick Marley hits a legwhip takedown on Nolan Dorado... Dorado counters Marley's attempted Limelight with another DDT... Dorado hits Marley with a spectacular springboard somersault plancha to the outside!...] # Kill the spirit and you'll be blinded, # the end is always the same # Play with fire, you burn your fingers and # lose your hold of the flame, oh [...Ryan Faith hits Marley with a steel chair, allowing Dorado to hit him with the Golden Guillotine somersault legdrop from the top rope on Marley...] # It's over, it's done # The end is begun # If you listen to fools... # The mob rules [...Lord Byron drops an elbow on Liam Cassidy's arm, then suplexes him back to the mat... Cassidy hits him with a left jab, then a shot to the ribs, then another, and another, and knocks Byron down with a clothesline! Cassidy rolls Byron back into the ring and hits Byron with a backdrop! Byron hits Cassidy with the Coup De Gräce inverted DDT neckbreaker...] # You've nothing to say # Oh, they're breaking away # If you listen to fools... [...Johnny Pleasence throws Orin LeBlanc with a belly-to-back suplex, then hits an armdrag, then puts the boots to LeBlanc... LeBlanc puts Pleasence down with a big clothesline...] # Break the circle and stop the movement, # the wheel is thrown to the ground # Just remember it might start rolling and # take you right back around [...LeBlanc follows Pleasence out of the ring and gets blindsided by a crouching Dave Bryant, who spears him into the ringsteps!......] # You're all fools! # The mob rules! [...the logo crashes onto the screen in an explosion of sparks and flame:] ___ ______ __ ___ ___ __ ______ ___ _________ / _ \/ ___/ | /| / / / _ \/ _ | / |/ / _ \/ _ |/ ___/ __/ / , _/ /__ | |/ |/ / / , _/ __ |/ /|_/ / ___/ __ / (_ / _/ /_/|_|\___/ |__/|__/ /_/|_/_/ |_/_/ /_/_/ /_/ |_\___/___/ LIVE! Rose Garden, Portland, OR Thursday 15 June 2006 [The logo flies outwards in a fiery explosion to reveal a wide shot of the interior of the Rose Garden arena, filled to the rafters with screaming grappling fans! Fireworks explode high in the rafters, rockets screaming down from the lighting rig towards the four ring posts, flashpots on each of the posts detonating together, drawing big cheers from the crowd! The camera pans over the cheering faces of the fans, wearing Madrock bandanas, "YOUR HERO" t-shirts, "GOT FAITH?" t-shirts, "BIG BAD" t-shirts... and finally comes to rest at the broadcast table at ringside, at which are seated Don Ditka and Billy Shakespeare, both men already wearing their headsets.] DD: Welcome everybody to Portland, Oregon! Welcome everybody to the beautiful Rose Garden arena! Welcome everybody to the hardest-hitting hour of wrestling action anywhere today! Welcome everybody to... RCW RAMPAGE! We are coming at you *live* from this sold-out arena, and what a *stacked* card we have tonight. I'm Don Ditka, and beside me as always is my broadcast colleague, wrestling legend "Spotlight" Billy Shakespeare! BS: Always a pleasure, Don. [A graphic appears on the screen, captioned "TONIGHT", showing the faces of Johnny Pleasence, Ryan Faith and Dave Bryant on one side, and "Pistol" Paul Driscoll, Mark Coleman and Vinny Carmazzi on the other.] DD: What a main event we have for you tonight -- an incredible six-man tag team match. BS: RCW Champion Johnny Pleasence teams up with his cronies Ryan Faith and Dave Bryant to go up against the impressive team of "Pistol" Paul Driscoll, Mark Coleman and Vinny Carmazzi. DD: With both Coleman and Carmazzi making their returns from injury tonight, number one contender Paul Driscoll is going to have to be on top of his game -- because Johnny Pleasence has really lost it of late. BS: That's something of an understatement, Don. [The graphic spins, again captioned "TONIGHT", to show the faces of Owen and Eddie Curtis pitted against Brody Thunder and a good-looking young man.] DD: And our other big tag team tonight pits the Curtis brothers against Brody Thunder and his alleged illegitimate son, Logan Thunder. BS: Apprently young Logan takes after his father and is an impressive athlete in his own right. DD: We'll see later on tonight! [Cut back to Ditka and Shakespeare at ringside.] DD: And we have four other tremendous matches on tonight's loaded card -- so let's get right to it now! Hang on, what's this? [The crowd murmurs as a figure appears in the aisle. The spotlight is quick to illuminate the scene to reveal "The Jersey Drifter" Liam Cassidy slowly sauntering towards the ring.] DD: And here comes Liam Cassidy, who was welcomed to the reality of pro wrestling on our last live broadcast as Lord Byron set out to cripple the Jersey Drifter, and just about did it. BS: I don't think Cassidy really understood the situation when he signed on for that rematch with Byron after knocking him out in the 60 Second Challenge two weeks earlier. Byron was out to hurt Cassidy, but I don't think Liam quite apprehended the true nature of the situation. [Although he still looks like a slob, Liam is sporting some new clothing. He's traded in the cords for a pair of blue jeans filled with tattered holes and various stains. His right arm is wrapped up in a sling, along with a cast protecting his wrist. It should be noted that he's wearing his first ever piece of RCW merchandise... A white wifebeater undershirt with the imprint of a giant fist on the front. He hams it up and spins so the camera sees the back, which says "JUST ONE SECOND..." He has his black fedora covering his mangy hair, and his usual day's growth beard is more like a scruffy week's worth.] DD: Well, there you see the aftermath of that heinous attack. Say what you want about Byron being an accomplished and dangerous wrestler, but there was absolutely no reasoning for his attack on Liam after the match that could justify trying to break the manÕs arm. BS: Byron was sending a message, not just to Cassidy, but to our esteemed president as well. He felt Dan Spreadbury backed him into a corner by forcing him into signing a contract with Rip City Wrestling, and unfortunately that man right there paid for it. [After pausing to carefully sign an autograph to a young fan, Liam continues on his way to the ring and hits the ringside area. He begins scouring the crowd, looking for something or someone. He gets a pretty big ovation from the Portland crowd, who are really starting to take to The Jersey Drifter.] DD: IÕm still not sure what Mr. Cassidy is doing here at ringside. As you can see, that right arm is in a cast and sling after ByronÕs attack. I believe that his right wrist has been fractured and he has a broken finger as well, although IÕm not clear on which one. BS: Now to any other wrestler, that could be considered a minor injury. Something that will take you off the shelf for a few weeks, but thatÕs about all. But for someone like Liam, that relies so heavily on that mean right hook of his, this is potentially a career-ending injury -- because if he doesnÕt regain the strength in that hand like he had before, his famed one second knockout punch will be rendered useless, and what then? DD: Well, I suppose heÕd have to either start relying on his left hook, or learn how to wrestle -- and fast! WhatÕs this now? He has a mic. [Cassidy continues to glance over the crowd. Despite his depressing injury, heÕs still all smiles as he loves the reception he is getting from the crowd. He raises the mic up with his left hand.] LC: WhereÕs my hoboes at?!?! [He gets a good reception from the fans across the entire Rose Garden, but there is an exceptionally loud pop from a group of twenty or so fans seated about three and four rows back from ringside. The group are all dressed to kill in matching wifebeaters and various other items that could be considered hobo garb. Liam takes note of their presence and flashes his Hobo friends a big toothy grin before tossing away the mic.] BS: How do those guys get in anyway? Is Cassidy buying tickets for the homeless now? DD: Heh, Billy, I donÕt think those fans are necessarily like Mr. Cassidy, but rather just a large group of fans getting into the spirit of things. They have affectionately been dubbed the Hobo Section, and I think the "Jersey Drifter" definitely appreciates the support. [Instead of going over to his fans, Liam drops down to a knee and raises the ring apron. He begins to fish around for something with his one good hand. The crowd roars as he finds what he is looking for, and pulls out a cooler stuffed with beer. Liam grins as he brings the cooler over to the retaining barrier and slowly climbs over it.] DD: Now what?! [Approaching his group of (possibly literally) rabid fans, the "Jersey Drifter" greets each of his Hoboes, and tosses them beers from his cooler. They hoot and holler, always appreciating the free booze. Liam takes a seat amongst his fans as they begin to chant "JUST ONE SEC-OND!" around him. Liam smirks and tips his hat to the camera and gives it a wink.] DD: It appears Mr. Cassidy has joined us at ringside and heÕs going to take in the show from the third row, surrounded by his fans. BS: Hopefully he'll pay attention to the in-ring action and learn a thing or two. He could stand to pick up some pointers -- and heÕd better do it fast if he doesnÕt want a repeat of last RAMPAGE to happen when he meets Byron at Wild Summer Night. DD: Let's hope our security folks can keep Cassidy and co. contained here tonight. [Cut to a locker room backstage. The crowd, seeing the scene on the big screen, gives a rousing face pop as Mark Coleman stands in the middle of the shot. Dressed to wrestle, Coleman is talking to someone off-camera, one arm leaning against a locker, speaking with his easy Southern drawl.] MC: Yeah, yeah, I know what you said on "On the Wire." All well, said, and good. Understand, though, I ain't just gonna roll over and let you walk all over me like I was a country road. Comin' in here right now to lay it straight out for you, pal. I came here tonight to wrestle, and not to hold a damn thing back because of what anyone says. So, if you're expectin' to tear the other team apart completely...well, I respect that, and I ain't gonna complain. Just save somethin' for me, alright? [Pan to Paul Driscoll, sitting on a wooden stool and leaning against a row of lockers.] PD: I won't make ya no promises Ace, but if they get to beatin' on me I'm givin' ya a blank check to even the odds. Lord knows the last thing I need is fer Carmazzi to have a reason to open his friggin' yap... [And at the mention of his name, Vinny Carmazzi walks into the locker room. Upon seeing him, Driscoll rises to his feet and glares at the man from Jersey City, then back to Coleman.] PD: Knew I shouldn't have said yer name... yer like syphilis. Jus' when I think yer gone, ya come back even worse. [The #1 contender looks at his partners and sneers, then speaks again.] PD: Lemme jus' re-iterate for ya, Vin. This is MY show tonight. If I'm lookin' like I'm in over my head, wait for Coleman to give ya yer cue. Easy enough? [Carmazzi gets right in the face of Driscoll.] VC: You'll be in over your head when the bell rings. 3-on-1? You can't even do 1-on-1. You needed tons of help to get your shot at the title, but tonight you're gonna need more help to even make it to Wild Summer Night. He's got your back... [Vinny turns and nods at Coleman.] VC: And I've got his back.... [He nods again, making eye contact.] VC: But you? I don't care if you get destroyed. You certainly have it coming and I'd love for it to be done by me. But tonight? It's not YOUR show and it's not all about you. [Carmazzi looks at Driscoll with a look of pure disgust.] VC: I'm not waiting for cues. Was never any good at picking them up. I'm just gonna go out there and beat the champ or someone on his team. [Vinny looks Driscoll dead in the eye.] VC: Because someone's gotta... and I know you don't have it in you. [The crowd inside the Rose Garden begins to get restless as Driscoll takes a step closer to Carmazzi, the audience thinking something cool is about to happen.] PD: Funny. Yer a funny guy, Vin. Maybe you'll take a likin' to this joke... ...what was the last thing goin' through the fly's mind 'fore he got hit by a car? [Driscoll stops, all three men tensed up and waiting for someone to do something.] PD: The windshield. [Driscoll pounces, grabbing Carmazzi by the shirt and slamming him back into the lockers. Carmazzi immediately shoves back as Driscoll begins to holler.] MC: HEY! HEY! KNOCK IT OFF! [The strong rookie pries himself in between both men, shoving Driscoll away and pushing Carmazzi back, forcing at least a little seperation] MC: Come on! Damn it, it's like bein' a Dale Ernhardt Jr. fan at a Jeff Gordon convention! [Carmazzi takes another shove at Driscoll, who immediately tries to swing back. Coleman grabs both men by their shirts, strong fists clutching the fabric, and pushes them back further.] MC: I said, knock it off! You two, I would like to think, are a bit more mature and professional then this! [Despite Coleman's best efforts, the taller Driscoll takes one more swipe at Carmazzi.] MC: HEY! You know what's going on right now, aside from you two seein' who's the bigger man? Right now, there's three guys in another locker room who are seein' this and laughin' their butts off. They at least know how to work together, apparently. PD: Alright, alright. Ya made yer point... now take yer hands off o' me. [Driscoll escapes from Coleman's grasp and walks away, Carmazzi soon doing the same and gravitating toward the door.] PD: Meeting adjourned. Get the hell outta here Carmazzi, 'fore I get ya when the kid ain't lookin'. MC: Make sure it's after the match. VC: Do it now. Let him see what a joke you are. [Driscoll turns away. Coleman rolls his eyes and follows out the door. Carmazzi follows with his hands balled. Cut back to Ditka and Shakespeare at ringside.] DD: Tensions are running high in the locker room of one half of tonight's massive six-man tag team main event -- will Driscoll and Carmazzi be able to co-exist on the same team? We'll find out later on tonight! Anyway, folks, let's get up to the ring for our opening match! ___ ______ __ / _ \/ ___/ | /| / / / , _/ /__ | |/ |/ / Christian Right vs. Nathan Herod /_/|_|\___/ |__/|__/ [Ring announcer Sy Simmons stands in the middle of the ring, and brings the microphone to his lips.] SS: Ladies and gentlemen, this is tonight's opening contest and it is scheduled for one fall! Intoducing first... [The jaunty piano and guitar opening to Lynrd Skynard's hymn to the southern states of the US kicks in over the PA to a big heel pop.] # Sweet home Alabama # Where the skies are so blue # Sweet home Alabama # Lord, I'm coming home to you SS: ...accompanied to the ring by his manager Mick Silvestri, hailing from the Herod Estate in Alabama, and weighing in at 270lbs... here is... NAAAAAAATHAAAAAAN HEEEEEEEEROD! ["Sweet Home Alabama" is interrupted by machine gun fire and screeching wheels before "Immortally Insane" by Pantera starts up. Now Nathan Herod walks through the entrance. He stops a moment to survey the arena, calmly chewing gum. Behind him emerges Mick Silvestri from the back, keeping his distance from his young charge.] DD: Here he comes, Billy Shakespeare. Young Nathan Herod is yet to pick up his first win here in RCW, but he's shown that he's got a lot of raw ability. BS: Not to mention a mean streak more than a mile wide, Don. What Herod lacks in good fundamentals he more than makes up for in brute strength and self-confidence. [Herod continues his way down the aisle, head held high and paying no attention to the people while his manager avoids the reaching hands like the plague, shouting at the fans to stay from them. Nathan slowly rolls into the ring, having all the time in the world. Mick stays on the outside, shouting some words of encouragement at Herod while licking his lips nervously. Pantera fades over the PA and Simmons raises the microphone again...] SS: And introducing his opponent... ["This Man" by Jeremy Camp plays over the PA, and the crowd responds with a big heel pop.] SS: ...making his way to the ring, hailing from Greenville, South Carolina and weighing in at 231lbs, here is... CHRRRRRRISTIAN RIIIIIIIIGHT! [Christian Right steps out into the aisle, as usual wearing his smart pastor's suit and carrying a Holy Bible in the crook of his right arm. The fans let him know exactly what they think of him, and he's not shy in letting them know that the disdain is mutual.] DD: Here comes perhaps one of the most unhinged individuals here in RCW -- not counting Johnny Pleasence, of course. BS: Christian Right comes across as a zealot, but he's very dangerous in the ring, as his dismantling of "Fallen Angel" David Cross two weeks ago demonstrated. DD: Will Nathan Herod prove as stern a test? [Right makes his way down to the ring, and rolls in. He shouts at Herod, who simply looks at him, continuing to chew his gum, happy to bide his time. Right removes his jacket and loosens his tie.] DD: This match, of course, has come about as the result of Herod's attack on Cross at the conclusion of that match two weeks ago. Nathan Herod was apparently trying to take David Cross out of action in order to force his way onto the card for RCW Wild Summer Night. BS: Certainly we've not seen or heard anything of David Cross for the past two weeks, so perhaps Herod's plan paid off. DD: For now the match at Wild Summer Night is still signed as Christian Right vs. David Cross, but we'll have to see what transpires over the coming weeks. [In the ring, Right has now removed his trousers and shirt, and is now in his standard ring attire of black boots, black trunks... and a large silver cross worn around his neck. Right removes the cross and holds it aloft, to a big heel pop.] DD: That's the trophy Christian Right stole from David Cross two weeks ago. [Right moves to the corner and drapes the cross over the top of the ringpost, then turns back into the ring to face his opponent. Referee Pat Nickrick signals for the bell.] * DING! DING! DING! * [Christian Right moves towards Herod, and the two men face each other in the centre of the ring. Right is jawing at Herod, presumably offering him some spritual guidance... and Herod swats Right down to the mat with a huge bicep! Mixed pop! Right pops back to his feet, and again Herod knocks him right back down! Right gets up a third time, a little more slowly this time, and this time he sees Herod's arm coming, and takes the Alabaman down to the mat with a hammerlock! Mixed pop!] DD: Herod finds himself in a hammerlock from his more technically-sound opponent... BS: And he doesn't know how to get out of this hold! [Herod rolls to his feet and practically drags Right back to his feet, Right still clinging to Herod's arm, and then squashes Right into the corner, forcing him to relinquish his hold. Right staggers forwards into the ring, and is met by a hard right-hand from Herod... and another... and a third puts him down on the mat!] DD: Herod *powering* out of that hold -- not scientific, but definitely effective! BS: And now he's going right back to what brought him to the dance, his brawling! [Herod tries to drop an elbow on Right, but Christian rolls out of the way, and is quickly back to his feet. As Herod gets back to his feet, Christian hits him with a chop to the throat -- drawing a heel pop from the fans -- and he then drops Herod with a DDT! But instead of making the cover, Right casts his gaze skywards and appears to be deep in prayer.] DD: Give me a break. Christian Right is praying for the eternal soul of Nathan Herod. BS: This could be a very costly mistake. If you have a man down on the canvas, you should always go for the lateral press. [As Right continues to pray, Silvestri yells at Herod to try and roll up his opponent, and Herod heeds his manager's advice, grabbing Right by the tights and dragging him down to the canvas.] DD: Herod with the cover! One! Two -- and Right kicks out! [Both men roll back to their feet, and Right blocks a punch from Herod, then peppers him with a shot to the jaw, and finally hoists him up with a vertical suplex! Mixed pop! Herod pops back up to his feet and runs right into a powerslam from Right -- and Right then immediately goes for the Mercy Lock!] DD: Right with the Mercy Lock! That anklehold submission is locked in, and Herod could be in trouble here! BS: Nathan Herod is no ring general, Don. He doesn't know where he is, which direction to reach for the ropes. DD: It looks like he's going to go for the brute force approach! [Herod uses his upper body strength to roll himself over, forcing Right to release the ankle hold, and then uses his feet to flip the smaller man over him in a monkey flip! Herod rolls to his feet, favouring his right ankle, as Right also comes back to his feet. Herod charges in, and rakes at Right's face, staggering him. Herod traps both of Right's arms, and then hits him full force with a headbutt!] "OOOOOOOOOH!" [Herod hits him with a second headbutt, this time releasing Right's arms. Right crashes to the mat.] "OOOOOOOOOOOHH!" [Herod moves to the corner and climbs up to the second turnbuckle, then launches himself with a diving headbutt off the second rope!] "OOOOOOOOOOOOOHH!" DD: Tremendous diving headbutt from Herod -- and I believe Christian Right has been busted open, Billy Shakespeare! BS: That headbutt caught him right on the bridge of the nose, and that nose may be broken! [Right staggers to his feet, clutching at his nose, and walks right into a throat-grab by Herod... who then sweeps his legs out from under him and chokeslams him to the mat! Big mixed pop!] DD: High impact stuff from Nathan Herod here! [Herod goes for the cover, and Nickrick drops to make the count... 1... 2... ...no! Right kicks out!] DD: Nathan Herod now in control of this match! BS: Certainly Christian Right needs to avoid being on the receiving end of too much of this kind of offence, Don. [Herod brings Right back to his feet, and sends him for the ride... on the rebound, Herod hits him with a spinning clothesline! Big pop as Right goes through a reverse somersault!] DD: What power from this burly Alabaman! [Herod again drags Right to his feet, and once again sends him to the ropes... but Right ducks under the big forearm attempt, turns on a dime, and slaps on a sleeper hold! Big pop!] DD: Sleeper hold from Christian Right! BS: Herod doesn't know what to do! He's flailing his arms around in there! [Indeed, Herod has a look of something close to panic on his face as Right cinches in the sleeper hold, his big arms flailing around as he struggles to free himself. Official Pat Nickrick comes in close to check on Herod... and Herod clocks him upside the head with a meaty forearm! Nickrick goes down!] "OOOOOOOOOOH!" DD: Herod has incapacitated the match official! This may be about to descend into mayhem! [As Herod continues to flail, weakening with every passing second, suddenly there is a commotion in the aisle, and the crowd leaps to its collective feet!] DD: DAVID CROSS! IT'S DAVID CROSS! [Big pop as the giant from Corry, Pennsylvania runs down to the ring. In the ring, Christian Right looks down at the aisle, sees the charging Cross, and his eyes widen. He drops Herod to the mat as Cross reaches ringside and slides into the ring under the bottom rope!] DD: I thought David Cross was put in the hospital after that beatdown by these two men two weeks ago! BS: It looks like Christian Right thought that too, Don -- but here he is! [Cross unloads on Christian Right with a big clothesline, then bounces off the other ropes and hits Herod with another big clothesline! Big pop! Up gets Christian Right... and he gets a kick to the midsection, then a gutwrench... then he's hoisted up in the air, and...] "OOOOOOOOOOOH!" [...*down* with authority! Huge pop!] DD: ASHES TO ASHES! ASHES TO ASHES! [Right is laid out on the mat as Cross rounds on Herod, who has also got back to his feet. Herod goes to punch Cross, but Cross blocks, and hits Herod with a kick to the gut! Herod is doubled over... Cross hoists him up... turns around in the ring with Herod up on his shoulders, and then...] "OOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHH!" [...*plants* him down to the mat! Another huge pop!] DD: ASHES TO ASHES! ASHES TO ASHES! BOTH THESE MEN ARE OUT! [Cross kneels over the form of Pat Nickrick and revives him, then rolls out of the ring. As he passes the corner of the ring, he grabs his silver cross on its chain from the ringpost, and puts it around his neck with a smile. He backs up the aisle with both hands raised high, to the cheers of the crowd, as Nickrick counts both Herod and Cross out in the ring...] DD: David Cross came out of nowhere and has completely *decimated* both Christian Right and Nathan Herod -- and these fans loved it! [Nickrick's count reaches six, and the crowd starts to chant along...] "SEVEN!" "EIGHT!" "NINE!" "TEN!" [Huge pop as Nickrick calls for the bell!] * DING! DING! DING! * SS: Ladies and gentlemen, the referee has ruled this match... a double count-out! [Both Right and Herod still lie motionless in the middle of the ring as David Cross continues to back up the aisle, a big smile on his face.] DD: Folks, David Cross has just paid Nathan Herod and Christian Right in *spades* -- and I think Cross may have just made himself a marked man! We'll be right back! [Fade to commercials.] [Fade back from commercials to footage captioned "DURING COMMERCIAL." Jamie Bond approaches a furious Christian Right as he arrives through the curtain into the backstage area.] JB: Mr. Right, Mr. Right -- would you like to tell us your feelings about what David Cross jus... CR: MY FEELINGS?! YOU WANT MY GOSH DARN FEELINGS ON THE MATCH?! [Right throws a chair against the wall.] CR: THAT'S MY FEELINGS! I WAS LIED TO, CHEATED ON, AND LOST THE MATCH! THAT SINNER GOT US COUNTED OUT! HOW IN THE RIGHT OF GOD, GLORY BE THY NAME, WILL I EVER BE ABLE TO QUASH AND CONQUER THE DEVIL WITHIN THIS MAN DAVID CROSS! I'LL TELL YOU WHAT, CROSS, THIS ISN'T OVER. YOU WILL SEE THE FIRES OF HELL EVEN IF I HAVE TO FORCE YOU TO SEE THE LIGHT AND TO SHOW YOU WHERE YOU ARE GOING. HEROD, I'M NOT THROUGH WITH YOU EITHER, SO DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT FORGETTING ABOUT THIS. SOMEONE'S GOING TO HAVE TO REPENT AT WILD SUMMER NIGHT, AND IT'S GONNA BE CROSS AND HEROD! [He starts walking away, but then walks back to Jamie Bond. He suddenly sounds unusually calm.] CR: And by the way, God bless you, and have a nice day. [Right walks out of shot, leaving a bemused Jamie Bond in his wake. Cut back to Ditka and Shakespeare at ringside.] DD: Welcome back, folks -- and as you can see, the unbalanced Christian Right was certainly not happy with how his match with Nathan Herod played out here tonight. Coming up next, a collision of two mountains of men. Akitoshi Ogawa is set to do battle with Madrock the Irrepressible, and Jamie Bond is backstage with the freak from up Abbott's Peak. Jamie? [The shot cuts to two distinctive figures of the RCW roster waiting inside the Rose Garden backstage area. Impressionable interviewer to the wrestling stars Jamie Bond stands dwarfed next to the might of the magnificient Madrock. Hagrid the giant interviewed by Harry Potter, you could say. Jamie twitches nervously as the Australian wildman runs his hand through his beard.] JB: Thank you, Don. I'm joined tonight by none other then Madrock the Irrepressible! Madrock, I tried to get in touch with you last week at On the Wire; seems such an encounter just wasn't in the cards at that time. Nevertheless, I'd still like to know how you are after that brutal attack by Danny Daniels last RAMPAGE and how it affected you for this fight tonight againt King of the Death Match, Akitoshi Ogawa. [Madrock the Irrepressible stands to the side of Jamie Bond, his huge hand slumped across the shoulder of the diminuative interviewer. He takes one look at the camera. Then he shouts.] M: It brought forth WAAAARGH, that's what! War, ruin and devastation across the land; and I'm death on two feet for anyone who crosses my path! Didn't ya get the memo? Madrock's gone mean; 'eez bustin' heads and stackin' the skulls in a pile so high it'll reach the pearly gates!!! DANNELS!!!! You make up all sorts of bullshit drama; I'm puttin' you into a coma, intensive-care trauma, you prima-donna!!! Make you scared and sufferin', make you pay in pain!!! JB: Madrock, about the words said by Zeke... M: Listen 'ere, Jamie Bond! I ain't impressed by that sneaky backbiting thug! In fact, I hate the rat-faced little git with his little twitchy whiskers! Lemme tell ya something, those guys think they learnt everything 'bout scrappin' about in the flashy stadiums while training in their hoity-toity gymnasiums; take one look at my graceful figure and ask yourself: are you REALLY prepared for this? JB: No? M: I wuzn't talkin' to you! Spread the word: Madrock isn't just splittin' skulls, 'eez opening people's miiiii-inds!!! I'z smashin' your brains and making a mish-mash out of the way you look at the world! [Psychadelic eye stare!] M: 'Gawa!!! You were raised in the set world of martial arts; the rigid Japanese structure, grew up believin' in certain certainties! When you fight you look up to your training, you look up to your techniques, you look up to what everybody else tells you... How does it feel to face the guy who lives by his own rules and listens to nobody but his own heart?? 'Cuz I'z MAAAADROOO-OCK: free like a bird and funky like a monkey!! I take a look at the Blackout and see a guy about to look up at the lights, a guy with a silly street sweeper confusing the bane of Brisbane, the monster from Almunster, the freak up Abbott's Peak... with a janitor?? Madrock's in a WARRIN' mood and they ain't no rules, so bring everything you got so that Madrock can show you what the REAL WORLD is all about! JB: Well, Don, impressive words from Madrock... I think. Back to you! [Cut back to a shot of the Hobo Section in the crowd, the twenty or so drunken bums, Liam Cassidy in their midst, amusing and disgusting the regular fans around them in more or less equal measure.] DD: Folks, Madrock is ready for this match -- and how! And Liam Cassidy is still having a great time out there with the fans here in the Rose Garden, which is, uh, good -- probably! Let's get back up to the ring! ___ ______ __ / _ \/ ___/ | /| / / / , _/ /__ | |/ |/ / Madrock the Irrepressible vs. Akitoshi Ogawa /_/|_|\___/ |__/|__/ [Sy Simmons takes up his position in the ring and raises his microphone to his lips...] SS: Ladies and gentlemen, the following match is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first... ["Ride Or Die!" by the Doomriders kicks in over the PA as the lights in the arena drop, drawing a big pop from the crowd!] SS: ...accompanied to the ring by Zeke Brackett, hailing from Kumamoto, Japan, and weighing in at 266lbs... he is a former King Of The Death Match... he is... AAAAAAAAAAAKITOOOOOOOSHI OGAAAAAAAAAWA! [Big heel pop as the strobe laser lights playing through the rising mist at the head of the aisle are disturbed by the bulky form of Ogawa, stepping out into the aisle and making his way slowly down towards the ring, Zeke Brackett behind him.] DD: Here comes the man who has made Mark Coleman's life a living hell over this past couple of months, Billy Shakespeare. BS: Coleman and Ogawa have a date at Wild Summer Night -- but Ogawa has a tough test when he goes up against Madrock the Irrepressible. [Brackett follows behind Ogawa, hurling insults at the fans on either side of the aisle, who give as good as they get. Ogawa slides into the ring under the bottom rope and rises to his feet in the center of the ring, turning slowly to all four sides and gazing coldly out into the crowd as the lights in the arena rise once more and "Ride Or Die!" fades out.] SS: And his opponent... # We'll be singing # When we're winning # We'll be singing... ** THOOM! ** [The sound from a deafening explosion stops Chumbawamba's track "Tubthumpin'" short. A single thundering voice fills the Rose Garden with a bellowing shout.] "This... MEANS... WAAAAAAAAARRRGH!!" [Madrock's war cry rings through the arena as Busta Rhymes's opus "This Means War" (with Ozzy Osborne) plays through the load speakers. The Iron Man remix continues to play as Madrock himself makes his roaring appearance towards the crowd, raising both arms in the air and towards the fans, oversized green wristbands acting as beacon's for the stadium's spotlights.] SS: ...making his way to the ring... from the Cockatoo Islands, Australia... weighing in at 321lbs... He is the bane of Brisbane, the monster from Almunster, the freak up Abbott's Peak! MAAAADROOOCK THE IRRRRRREPRESSIBLE! [Snarling like the MGM lion, Madrock delivers a loud roar as he stomps his way towards the ring, actually lifting his legs up before bringing his foot down at every step. He hoists himself inside of the ring and looks out at the crowd. Both fists towards the audience, he sweeps throughout every section of the stands before pumping his fists in air and stomping the ground until the entire ring shakes from his anger!] DD: Madrock the Irrepressible is not the most stable individual at the best of times, Billy Shakespeare, but after that attack at the hands of "Your Hero" Danny Daniels two weeks ago, he seems to be completely off the charts. BS: Off the Richter scale, almost. This match is going to be quite something. [As Buster Rhymes fades over the PA, Madrock, chest already heaving from his exertions on his way to the ring, marches up to Ogawa, who remains impassive in the ring. The two men stand face to face as official Jim Bright signals for the bell.] * DING! DING! DING! * DD: Just look at these two man-mountains, Billy Shakespeare! Ogawa is giving up around 50lbs in weight to Madrock, but Madrock is a good six inches shorter than Ogawa. BS: And while Madrock may have the power advantage, Ogawa has the leverage advantage, and is undoubtedly the more technical of the two. DD: Though Ogawa is no mat technician, Billy Shakespeare. He can tie you up in knots, but he'd just as soon wrap your head in barbed wire. BS: Too true, Don. DD: Just look at Madrock in there -- he's fired up like I've never seen! BS: *Blown* up, you mean. [Madrock looks out into the crowd and sees a sign that says "MADROCK'S GONNA KILL YOU". He points to it, and then points to Ogawa, his crazed stare still being met by an impassively cold glare from his taller Japanese opponent.] DD: Madrock forgets that Ogawa doesn't speak English -- but for the rest of us the message is clear! [And Madrock underlines that message... by launching himself at Ogawa, barrelling into him, and fists fly everywhere! The crowd pops big as the two men fight toe-to-toe in the middle of the ring! Madrock rocks Ogawa back on his heels with a series of soupbones, and then bounces off the ropes, throwing his 320lbs frame at the Japanese wrestler and taking him down with a rugby tackle! Madrock immediately continues pounding away at Ogawa with rights and lefts, and Ogawa is forced to cover up. Spotting his opportunity, Ogawa jams a thumb into one of Madrock's eyes, slowing the Australian down for just a moment, and then he applies a body scissors on the big Australian, squeezing around the ribs as hard as he can.] BS: Good thinking from Ogawa here -- he needs to slow down this freight train, and a man of Madrock's size and, uh, physical conditioning is absolutely dependent on a good flow of oxygen into those big lungs. As soon as Ogawa can keep that oxygen away, Madrock's arms and legs will feel heavy, and start stinging with the build-up of lactic acid from the anaerobic respiration. DD: You just said a bundle, Bill Shakespeare! But... but look at this, Madrock is powering out! [Madrock strains with his meaty hands to unwrap Ogawa's legs from around him... and manages to separate them! Both men get back to their feet, Madrock's chest still heaving... and he immediately goes for another soupbone. This time Ogawa sees him coming, grabbing the huge forearm and twisting it sharply downwards, then wrenching it around behind the big Australian's back, wrapping his fingers around Madrock's and applying more and more pressure, a sick smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.] DD: Brutal Japanese knucklelock from Ogawa here, trying to neutralise those big arms of the Australian! [Again Madrock is forced to power out, rolling forwards and dragging Ogawa over his own body, wrenching his own arm even more in so doing, but at least forcing Ogawa to let go. Both men again roll to their feet, Madrock grabbing at his sore right arm and shoulder. Ogawa charges in... and hits an immovable object, unable to knock Madrock down! Big pop!] DD: Madrock is just too solid to go down like that! [Madrock draws himself to his full height, puffs out his chest, and encourages Ogawa to have another go. Ogawa bounces off the ropes and again runs right into a solid wall of muscle, Madrock only stepping backwards with one foot from the force of the impact. On the outside, Brackett shouts something in Japanese, and Ogawa nods almost imperceptibly, bouncing off the ropes once more, and this time launching himself through the air, hitting the big man with all his force -- and Madrock goes down! Heel pop!] BS: Tremendous flying clothesline from Ogawa, Don! Impressive agility for a man who's close to seven feet tall! [Both men are again quickly back to their feet. Madrock whips Ogawa into the ropes, and on the rebound goes for a hiptoss -- but Ogawa blocks, and slides underneath Madrock, impressively hefting the 320lbs monster up on his shoulders... and then rolling forwards with a fireman's carry slam! Big heel pop!] DD: STEAMROLLER! Ogawa using Madrock's own move against him! BS: It is the same move, but this has been in Ogawa's arsenal for some time -- according to Brackett, he calls it the Kumamoto Roll. DD: Whatever it's called, that's a lot of weight being brought down to the mat with close to 300lbs slammed down on top! [Ogawa is back to his feet quicker than Madrock, and as the big man gets to his knees, Ogawa drops to his own knees and goes for a palm strike to Madrock's face, then a chop to the Australian's throat -- but Madrock grabs hold of Ogawa's hand, and twists his arm as he gets up to his feet... then braces Ogawa by the elbow and lifts him up by his wrung hand, shifts him in mid-air, and *drives* him down with a modified sidewalk slam! Big pop!] DD: Tremendous power from the big Australian! This match has been all hard-hitting so far! [Madrock brings Ogawa back to his feet, and sends him for the ride. On the rebound he catches Ogawa and turns him as if for a bodyslam, then shifts him in mid-air for a swinging side slam! Big pop!] DD: OFF-KEEL SLAM! Another big-time side slam from Madrock! BS: Madrock seems to be targeting the back of Ogawa, Don. DD: I'm not sure Madrock really has a plan except to try and take Ogawa out as quickly as possible, Billy Shakespeare! [Ogawa is definitely a little slower to his feet now as he rises to face the still rampaging Madrock. Madrock swings in with a big haymaker, but Ogawa drops down, avoiding the strike, and again grabs Madrock's right arm with an armbar. Madrock once again braces himself to power out, yelling in pain as he lifts Ogawa from the mat and flips him in mid-air to drop him with a modified powerbomb! Big pop!] DD: Madrock's power is just plain scary at times, Billy Shakespeare! BS: But it comes at a cost, Don -- that's twice now Madrock has had to sacrifice himself to escape these holds. [Ogawa is again quicker to his feet than Madrock, and grabs Madrock's tree-like legs, attempting to cinch in a figure four leg-lock. But as Ogawa turns, holding onto Madrock's ankle, the big man kicks him away, propelling Ogawa through the ropes and to the outside -- where he clatters into Brackett, both men tumbling to the arena floor! Big pop!] DD: Madrock has bought himself some time here, Billy Shakespeare! [On the outside, Ogawa picks himself up, clearly furious. He kicks at the steel ringsteps, and stalks over to the timekeeper's table. He forcefully unseats the timekeeper and grabs his steel chair, folding it up and tossing it into the ring -- where it is swatted to the mat by Madrock!] DD: Uh-oh -- Ogawa is getting frustrated by the big Australian here. Let's hope he hasn't got any barbed wire out here! [Ogawa unseats Sy Simmons and grabs his steel chair, likewise folding it and tossing it into the ring. The fans pop again! Madrock picks up one of the chairs and looks at it appraisingly, while official Jim Bright attempts to remove the first chair from the ring. Ogawa then goes to the apron, lifting it up, and pulling things out from under the ring... a large wrench, used for tightening the turnbuckles... a bucket and mop... a large cookie sheet... and slides all of them into the ring.] DD: This could get ugly here in a hurry, Billy Shakespeare! BS: What's the referee going to do about all these foreign objects? [Madrock still has hold of a steel chair as Ogawa rolls into the ring, the mop's long wooden handle to hand. Brackett leaps up onto the apron and tries to grab hold of the official, while Ogawa kicks the mop handle, knocking the mop head off it, and brandishes the wooden handle at Madrock, who winds up with the steel chair. The fans are going bananas as the two men circle each other with their weapons, Brackett doing his best to distract the official on the outside.] DD: Madrock swings at Ogawa -- but Ogawa ducks out of the way... "OOOOOOOOOOH!" DD: ...and Ogawa just *broke that handle clean in two* over Madrock's back! [Big heel pop as the big Madrock goes down to one knee, dropping his steel chair. Ogawa grabs the cookie sheet and tosses it at Madrock, who catches it by instinct... and Ogawa then dives in with a two-footed kick, *driving* the cookie sheet back into the big Australian's face! Big heel pop!] DD: Madrock... oh my... what impact! [Brackett finally jumps down from the ring apron as Ogawa sweeps some of the debris out of the ring, and drops down on top of the Australian to make the cover. Bright turns and makes the count... 1... 2... ...and Madrock kicks out! Big pop!] DD: That's not quite enough to put the big man down for the count! [Ogawa rolls to his feet and drags Madrock to his feet, then sends him for the ride. On the rebound, Ogawa ducks down to hoist Madrock up, perhaps for a spinebuster, but Madrock has the wherewithal to jam a thumb in the Japanese wrestler's eye, staggering him! Big pop! Madrock grabs an arm and a leg, and starts to turn... turning... turning... turning...] DD: Madrock somehow summoning the strength to pull off a giant swing here, Billy Shakespeare! [Madrock turns, and turns, Ogawa being spun around, spun around, faster, faster... and at the high point of the spin, Madrock suddenly spins in the opposite direction, pulling his arms in, and snapping Ogawa to the mat! Madrock, a little dizzy from his spinning, goes to the ropes and then comes back with a senton splash on Ogawa, then goes for the cover! Bright makes the cover... 1... 2... ...and Ogawa kicks out! Heel pop!] BS: These two men are hitting each other with everything here, Don! [Ogawa rolls from the ring as Madrock rolls back to his knees. Ogawa is visibly incensed, and immediately goes to the corner and grabs the top half of the ringsteps. He hefts it into the ring between the bottom and middle ropes. Big pop!] DD: This is getting serious, Billy Shakespeare. I don't think either of these two men is willing to stop until the other is completely incapacitated! BS: The referee may have to throw this match out, Don. I can't see him regaining control of this match with more than 500lbs of angry muscle in there! [Ogawa rolls back into the ring and picks up the steel ring steps. Madrock, meanwhile, grabs hold of a steel chair, and starts pounding away on the ringsteps!] * CLANG! * * CLANG! * * CLANG!CLANG!CLANG! * [Finally, Ogawa drops the steel steps... and Madrock takes a swing at him, but the Japanese man ducks out of the way, and lunges forwards, launching himself off the fallen ringsteps and knocking Madrock backwards. Big pop! Official Jim Bright looks on helplessly as Ogawa and Madrock pound away at each other!] DD: This is completely out of control! We need some help out here! [The two men both cast around for weapons, and both men alight on steel chairs. As they get back to their feet, they start swinging at each other -- and they each score, Madrock with a shot to the midsection, and Ogawa with a stumping blow to the Australian's wild and woolly head! Finally Jim Bright has seen enough!] * DING! DING! DING! * DD: The official has thrown this out! What choice did he have?! BS: And now Madrock is busted wide open, Don! [Indeed, the Australian's hair is quickly becoming matted by a seeping tide of crimson around his hairline, dripping into his eyes and making his crazed persona look even more terrifying. Madrock gets back to his feet, the red mist intensifying as he looks to exact retribution on Ogawa! Madrock unleashes a huge warcry and charges at Ogawa, sending him to the ropes. On the rebound, Madrock hefts him up for a backdrop, but grabs hold of his legs, jumps up... and *plants* Ogawa to the canvas! Huge pop!] DD: COMING DOWN ABBOTT'S PEAK! BS: And Ogawa is rolling right out of there! DD: Huge move from Madrock, and Ogawa is out of there -- and here come security! [Madrock is straight back to his feet, crazed, grabbing a steel chair and swinging for the fences, even though there's nobody there to hit, Jim Bright also having decided that he really had no business in there with two bloodthirsty maniacs. Finally the aisle is swarming with blue-shirted security as Brackett talks to the groggy Ogawa on the outside.] DD: This is carnage out here, folks! Madrock is busted wide open, but he's come out on top here -- he went toe to toe with a former King of the Death Match, and he's still standing! BS: The record books will show a double disqualification for this one, Don, but Madrock can perhaps claim a moral victory. DD: Danny Daniels must be watching this and wondering what monster he has unleashed, Billy Shakespeare! BS: "This grisly beast!" DD: Grisly, indeed. Folks, we have to take a break -- hopefully event security will be able to restore a little order. Don't go away! [As Madrock continues to stomp around the ring, the whites of his eyes showing through his crimson mask, fade to commercials.] [Fade back from commercials, to footage captioned "DURING COMMERCIAL", depicting a sight the viewers didn't quite expect to see: Akitoshi Ogawa sending Mark Coleman face first into a concrete wall] DD: Fans, what you're seeing now started over the commercial break! Mark Coleman was getting set for a promo backstage, but that was before Akitoshi Ogawa -- apparently infuriated by the no contest decision of his match moments ago -- attacked him from behind! [The rookie from Tennessee staggers backwards, right into a thrust kick from Ogawa to the small of his back! This causes Coleman to drop to his hands and knees, setting him up for another kick from the King of the Death match, this one right to his ribs!] DD: Coleman is down, Billy Shakespeare... and Ogawa is grabbing a weapon! [As Zeke Brackett looks on from one side, laughing loudly, Ogawa dumps out a nearby trash can! The refuse litters the floor as Ogawa holds the metal container with both hands, and waits for Mark Coleman to slowly rise to his knees!] BS: This could be unforunate for the young rookie... but no! Coleman with a sign of life as he punches Ogawa in the stomach! [Ogawa staggers backwards, surprised at the wind being knocked out of him. Coleman gets up to his feet, and throws another right hand, this one catching Ogawa directly in the jaw! The big man staggers back a few more feet, allowing Coleman to follow up!] DD: Coleman is fighting back... oh, but Ogawa just *crunches* that metal trash can on top of his head! [Coleman drops to the floor, his proverbial bell rung by Ogawa's blow. Ogawa tosses the trash can aside and begins rocking the rookie with a series of stiff kicks and stomps to his ribs as Coleman struggles to his feet.] BS: Coleman is getting *annihilated*! This is looking bad, Don. DD: Ogawa is heartless, Billy. He seems hell-bent on destroying Mark Coleman before they ever get a chance to meet at Wild Summer Night. BS: He's a monster. Plain and simple. A monster. [Ogawa, still pounding Coleman, spots a rack of steel folding chairs nearby. He walks to the rack and violently jerks one free. He turns to the Coleman, who is now staggering, struggling to regain his balance. A look of pure madness comes across Ogawa's face, as Zeke Brackett watches. He raises the chair high above his head and rushes towards the Tennessee native, aiming to rock his world with an earth-shattering chair shot.] DD: NO! NO! NO! [Coleman somehow looks up, and as Ogawa charges, he reacts on instinct, and wraps his arms around Ogawa at the very last moment... and uses his own momentum to take the big man up and over!] DD: COLEMAN COUNTERS! He hits a belly-to-belly suplex! BS: On pure reflex, Coleman managed to save himself from a severe concussion! [Coleman is first onto his feet, kicking away the chair and motioning for the Japanese man to get up as well] MC: Come on, Ogawa... come on... [And as Ogawa turns to face him, Coleman clubs him with a brutal forearm shot!] MC: ...yeah, ain't so tough... [Ogawa comes back again, but Coleman rocks him with a right hand directly to the side of his head!] MC: ...you ain't so tough now, are you? DD: Mark Coleman now unleashing a series of brutal rights and lefts directly to the face of Akitoshi Ogawa! Weeks of fusteration are being let loose, as Coleman pounds away! BS: But look, Don, Ogawa is wisely covering himself up! He's blocking those shots, and Coleman may just wear himself out! [Ogawa backs up slowly, absorbing the punishment as Coleman simply punches away. After a few moments, though, Ogawa stands back up and unleashes a palm thrust of his own!] DD: Palm thrust right to the chest! Any higher and that would have hit Coleman's throat! BS: Lucky for Coleman, but he's staggered right now, and Brackett's telling his charge to keep going at the rookie! [Brackett is indeed following the brawl, shoving spectators and stunned onlookers out of the way and shouting encouragment at his big man.] DD: What a little weasel, Billy. If there has ever been a despicable person in this business, it's Zeke Brackett. [Ogawa rushes at Coleman and begins unloading haymakers on the stunned rookie. As they make their way further backstage, a crowd has gathered, some encouraging the carnage and others shouting for them to stop, while the rest are calling for Security. Ogawa begins unloading hard Muay Thai-style knees on Coleman and then in a flash, grabs Coleman by the throat and lifts him, violently tossing him back-first into a nearby concrete wall.] BS: These men will not stop, Don! This is pure insanity! [Ogawa wraps his big right hand around Coleman's neck and prepares to do this once more, but Coleman begins to fight back, ripping the Japanese monster's hand from his throat and rocking him with two vicious headbutts. Both men are now breathing heavily, and the crowd surrounding them is becoming larger by the second.] DD: Look at this carnage! These men are about to spill blood all over the Rose Garden! [Ogawa staggers backwards suddenly. Coleman, also staggering, lowers his shoulder and rushes at the big man.] DD: Here comes Coleman! [Coleman catches Ogawa, off-balance, in the sternum. He drives the Japanese wrestler backwards, and drives him into a nearby piece of chain-link fencing! It shakes violently with the impact, and Ogawa's face shows a bit of pain as he slams into it back first!] DD: Coleman with the adva... no, Ogawa just SHOVES him away! BS: The man can absorb punishment, Don. King of the Death Match isn't a moniker he earned the easy way! [Ogawa tries to follow up, charging Coleman...only for Coleman to spin to one side, and moving with surprising grace, hits a drop-toe hold that sends Ogawa face-first to the concrete floor of the Rose Garden!] DD: Coleman just smacked Ogawa into the floor! And now, Coleman's on his feet... what's he doing? [Ogawa is momentarily stunned by the impact, and Coleman intends to take advantage! Moving quickly, Coleman crosses Ogawa's feet at the ankles, and puts his knee where they cross, pushing them down onto the back of Ogawa's thighs!] DD: Coleman seems... he's going for a submission hold, it looks like! He's got Ogawa's arm threaded... and Coleman locks a crossface onto Ogawa! He's got the big man tied up on the middle of the arena floor! BS: That's a hold called the Tennessee Valley Lock, Don! Coleman has yet to use it here in RCW, and apparently he decided tonight was the perfect time to debut it! [It looks as if Coleman was going for a surfboard-type hold, but changed his mind at the last moment and went for a crossface! Ogawa's upper body is being wrenched backwards, his trapped arm flailing, and his other arm fighting for purchase! Coleman cinches the move in, and he leans backwards as far as he can, yelling loudly as he locks the TVL in tighter!] DD: This could be revenge for Ogawa using the Blackout a few weeks ago to put Coleman out of action! Ogawa's trying to break it, and you can see the pain and effort on his face! BS: And look at Zeke Brackett! Ogawa and Coleman's scuffle has drawn a large crowd, and Brackett is truly on the outside looking in! [Brackett, in a rage, fights his way through the overwhelming crowd. Coleman keeps the move locked on, screaming almost as he pulls backwards. Brackett finally reaches the scene and is shocked to see his charge wrapped up in Coleman's powerful submission.] DD: Brackett is in shock! Wait... wait... what is Brackett doing? [Brackett rushes forward and throws himself onto Coleman's back, locking in a sleeper on his considerably larger foe.] DD: Brackett with a sleeper! He is right in the mix now, Billy! BS: Brackett is showing that he's crazy enough to get his hands dirty too. [Coleman lets go of Ogawa and stands, Brackett tightening his grip. Coleman stumbles around, his hands grabbing at Brackett's shirt for a few moments...] DD: Coleman backs up! OH MY! Coleman just sandwiched Brackett into a concrete wall! BS: It wasn't a violent impact, but it was enough for Brackett to release the sleeper hold! [Brackett stumbles to the ground, sitting against the wall, as Coleman ignores the manager, going back over to where Ogawa is slowly attempting to get up!] DD: Ogawa was in that Tennessee Valley Lock for a good bit of time, and he's slow to his feet... but now Coleman kicks HIM in the ribs! BS: That will probably be the last one, because here comes security! [Finally, the rapidly-becoming-familiar blue-shirted members of the RCW Security team have reached the brawl. A few of them grab Coleman and back him away from Ogawa, while others attempt to help Ogawa to his feet, and one of them also keeps an eye on Zeke Brackett, who's climbing to his feet.] DD: Security finally breaking up this... NO! Ogawa lunges towards Coleman! [Coleman pushes forward as well, but security holds the two men back. Coleman shows no resistance, his hands in the air now, telling the security men that "it's cool, I'm cool." Ogawa, meanwhile, is trying to force his way forward, snarling at Coleman like a caged animal. Zeke Brackett eventually gets to his feet and brushes back the security man on him, speaking in rapid fire Japanese in an attempt to calm his charge down.] DD: Mayhem, Billy Shakespeare. I believe the Bard would probably call this "a massive scrum." BS: Scrum? Only if he was an Arsenal football club fan, Don, and I assure you, that would not be the case! The great man would have better taste. [Ogawa finally calms down, though his eyes are locked on Coleman. As the two men stare daggers at one another, we hear a familiar voice make its way towards the scene.] DS: Dammit! What is wrong with the two of you? [Indeed, the besuited, bespectacled RCW President, Daniel Spreadbury, has made his way on camera. The boss looks at both men, and Zeke Brackett as well, as security keeps them seperated.] DS: You gentlemen can't wait for Wild Summer Night? Is that it? Well, you'll just have to wait, because every time I turn around, it seems the two of you are at each other's throats! MC: Mr. Spreadbury, for the record... ZB: Mr. Spreadbury, you have to understand... AO: *glare* DS: No! I am tired of excuses from the wrestlers under RCW contract. This is a federation where issues and concerns are settled in the ring, not backstage like an underground wrestling alliance! Coleman, you're just reinstated to the active roster, and this is how you act on your first day back? MC: Hey, Mr. Spreadbury, he started it! DS: I don't really care, Mark. You're lucky you have a match tonight, and that there's a section of fans out there who chant your name. Otherwise, I would have no problems benching you this evening and sending Derek Rage or Orin LeBlanc out there in your place! Now, you have a match to go get ready for, and I suggest you do so before I change my mind. [Coleman wisely shuts his mouth, and, his hands still up, backs away from the fight. A small "SCB! SCB! SCB!" chant can be heard from the fans as he does so. Once he is out of sight, Spreadbury turns to face Zeke Brackett, who's smiling widely.] ZB: Yeah, Coleman! You're lucky that Spreads came out here and... DS: Be quiet, Mr. Brackett. You wanted a piece of Mark Coleman, and you will have him, you and Mr. Ogawa, at Wild Summer Night. But for now, sir, I am ordering Akitoshi Ogawa and yourself to be removed from the Rose Quarter! [You can hear the fans cheer wildly, as Brackett goes nuts.] ZB: WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, SPREADBURY?! YOU CAN'T MAKE US DO ANYTHING! DS: Security, please escort Mr. Ogawa and Mr. Brackett to the locker room so their may retrieve their gear, and then show them from the building. [Brackett and Ogawa are led away, and the camera follows them. Brackett can be heard muttering as he walks away, and the two men, escorted by RCW Security, turn the corner in the distance. The camera turns back to Spreadbury, who's face is twisted in disgust as he exits the shot and heads towards his office. Cut back to Ditka and Shakespeare at ringside.] DD: Tensions are certainly running high backstage tonight, Billy Shakespeare. BS: With Wild Summer Night getting ever closer, it's easy to see why. But Mark Coleman had better focus himself on tonight's huge six-man tag team main event. DD: Absolutely -- and it should be easier to focus now that Ogawa has been escorted from the building. We'll catch up with Mark Coleman again later on in the show, but I understand that right now, Jamie Bond is backstage with Lord Byron. Jamie? [We cut from the announcer's desk to the backstage locker rooms... and a loud, jeering heel pop is heard echoing around the arena as we see exactly who's dressing room it is. A knock is heard on the dressing room door...] B: Enter. [The British blueblood, Lord Byron, shrugs off his suit jacket, smirking at the camera as the door behind him opens, and in steps the RCW reporter -- and good friend of Liam Cassidy -- Jamie Bond. Byron doesn't look around, simply starts loosening his pale silver blue tie...] JB: Lord Byron. I was told you had a statement you wanted to share with the RCW fans at ringside..? [Byron yanks his tie off, pops his cufflinks and unfastens the collar of his white silk shirt -- the impatient jeers from the crowd increasing as he makes them wait...] JB: Byron..? [Byron's head snaps around, and fixes Bond with a glare. The young reporter takes a hesitant step back.] JB: Er... you had some comments for the fans? About your match tonight, with "Showtime" Rick Marley. [Byron turns back to the camera, away from Jamie, his smirk broadening again as he starts to unbutton his shirt] B: No. About Marley, I have nothing to say -- my thoughts on my opponent here tonight will be seen later, in the ring. Seen very clearly indeed. The reason I have asked you here, James... [Byron sneers as he pronounces the name] B: ...has nothing to do with my match tonight all... rather, your GOOD friend, a certain "Jersey Drifter", Liam Cassidy. [A loud roar from the ringside crowd at the mention of wrestling's first hobo -- and Byron's voice takes on something of a threatening tone, making Bond start to look slightly nervous. Byron looks around, catching the look on Bond's face.] B: I do have it correct, don't I, James? That piece of human effluent, the Jersey Drifter, is a friend of yours? [Bond nods, and Byron's eyes narrow.] JB: Ya. Yes, I mean, yes -- Liam's a good friend of mine. [Byron shrugs his shirt off, drawing a few screams and cheers from some of the more impressionable young women in the crowd, and he turns to Bond.] B: Good. It has come to my attention, James, that Cassidy intends to follow through with his challenge to me at Wild Summer Night. He spoke about my attack on his hand -- saying that it had made his feud with me personal. That it was an attack calculated to threaten his livelihood. [Byron's voice takes on a familiar mocking tone] B: And would you credit it, James? For once, the walking trashcan was right. [Byron smirks as he the reaction of the Rose Garden crowd filters through backstage -- smirks at the jeers and boos and cries of "Just! One! Sec-ond!" that echo even backstage.] B: My attack on Cassidy was deliberate. It was calculated. And more importantly, it was a WARNING. A warning to Cassidy, to stay the hell out of my way. But Cassidy apparently wants to ignore that warning, he wants to step back in the ring with me one last time -- and unless he wises up, it WILL be the last time -- at Wild Summer Night. You see James... for all his bluster, for all his wounded-soldier bravado in throwing out that challenge, Cassidy told me everything I need to know when he said that his... [Byron glowers angrily] embarrassment of me didn't justify my breaking his hand. [Byron rounds on Bond, almost snarling as he backs RCW's young interviewer up against the door.] B: Tell your friend this, Mr. Bond. In this sport, the ends ALWAYS justify the means. To overcome an obstacle, you have to BREAK it. If he doesn't understand that, if he doesn't BELIEVE that -- then he has NO DAMN PLACE BEING IN THIS SPORT! [The heel pop from the crowd is borderline deafening, and Bond's face has turned white under the Aristocrat's verbal battering. Byron calmly reaches across... smoothes Jamie's jacket collar, straightens his tie... ruffles his hair.] B: Tell him that, from me. Tell your friend he's had his final warning -- and if he so much as steps foot in the arena at Wild Summer Night -- he's going to be drinking bourbon left-handed for the rest of his life. [Byron turns from Bond, walking back to his kit bag.] B: Make no mistake, Mr Bond... my first attack was a warning. If Cassidy persists, then at Wild Summer Night... I WILL finish the job. I WILL end his career... [Byron sneers...] B: ...such as it is. [Bond beats a hasty retreat, slipping back out of the dressing room door as the camera cuts back to ringside.] DD: Wow. Folks, we're going to see Lord Byron take on "Showtime" Rick Marley later on tonight, but for now we have to get up to the ring for our next match. Take it away, Sy. ___ ______ __ / _ \/ ___/ | /| / / / , _/ /__ | |/ |/ / Derek Rage vs. "Your Hero" Danny Daniels /_/|_|\___/ |__/|__/ [Sy Simmons stands in the centre of the ring and raises the microphone to his lips again.] SS: Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first... ["Afternoon Delight" plays over the PA system as Danny "Your Hero" Daniels enters the aisleway. He grins broadly, despite the cast on his right arm, and speaks into a cordless microphone.] D'YH'D: Let's start by hearing from my opponent... [Danny points with his index finger on both hands to the videotron, which comes to life with the message from Derek Rage from last week's "On the Wire". But something's different...] DR: Danny Daniels, you are ___ my hero. [Derek's lips moved, but the word "not" was cut off.] DR: I'm ___ amazed by the things that you do. I am ___ awed by the things you do. I am ___ amused by the things you do in the ring. [The videotron freezes, then fades out. Danny continues speaking.] D'YH'D: Douglas Rage, I'm glad to be "Your Hero." It's my honor. Just like it's your honor to be facing... ME! "Your Hero", Danny Daniels, a man so nice they named him twice. I don't blame you for being awed by me, Doug. Sometimes, even I'M awed by the things I do. [Danny nods sagely.] D'YH'D: Now Doug, I know what you're thinking... how can you, little Dougie, take on... ME! 'Your Hero'. I'm sure you're feeling nervous. But don't worry, little Dougie. As you can see, my arm [holds up the cast] is a little banged up, thanks to Muddle the Iridescent. That should make the match more equal. You'll still lose, of course, Dougie. But at least you'll be losing to... ME! "Your Hero," Danny Daniels. [Danny reaches ringside and climbs into the ring.] D'YH'D: Facing me must be a dream come true for you, little Dougie. And Dougie, I'm here to tell you -- you're welcome. [Danny waves to the aisleway.] D'YH'D: TOODLES~! [As Danny benevolently waves to Sy Simmons, the ring announcer is able to conclude his introductions.] SS: Already in the ring, from San Francisco, California and weighing in at 265lbs... he is... "YOOOOUR HEEEERO" DAAAAAAAAANNY DAAAAANIELS! [Daniels gives a double "thumbs up" to the fans as his music fades over the PA.] DD: Well, Billy Shakespeare, Danny Daniels appears to be back to his old carefree, oblivious self after that brutal attack on Madrock the Irrepressible two weeks ago. BS: There's vacuous, and then there's Danny Daniels, Don. DD: But note that his right arm -- allegedly "injured" not only in that arm-wrestling challenge against Madrock but also in a heroic rescue effort on his way to the arena that night -- is encased in a plaster cast. BS: I'm surprised he's been cleared to wrestle, Don, but here he is. If Daniels uses that cast as a weapon -- in view of the match official, at any rate -- then he'll be disqualified. [As "Afternoon Delight" fades out over the PA, Simmons once again raises his microphone.] SS: And his opponent... [The house lights go down and the hard beat of Public Enemy's "Black Steel in the Hour of Chaos" blares over the PA system.] SS: ...accompanied to the ring by Pizzazz, hailing from Halifax, Nova Scotia, and weighing in at 325lbs, here is... DEEEEEEEEEEREK RAAAAAAAGE! [First comes Pizzazz, the 6' model/wrestler. She strolls down the aisle then pauses, smiling at the crowd and flirting with her green eyes.] DD: Wow, Billy Shakespeare. Pizzazz is one of the most striking women I have ever seen. BS: She's as sly as a fox, Don. Who knows what's going on behind those green eyes? [Then Derek Rage emerges, cloaked in a boxer's robe, the hood over his head, to a big pop from the fans!] DD: And here comes the Intelligent Thug, Billy Shakespeare! Just look at the size of ths man! BS: Seven-feet plus, and all muscle, Don. DD: Muscle and *brain*, Billy Shakespeare. Which makes me wonder if this might be the most one-sided contest in RCW's history to date. BS: Daniels may be one sandwich short of a picnic, Don, but he's technically sound and has great instincts in there. I don't think this match is a foregone conclusion by any means. [Together Rage and Pizzazz walk to the ring. Rage steps over the top rope as Pizzazz alights between them. He takes to the centre of the ring, staring down at Danny Daniels as Pizzazz removes his robe, his facial expression remaining focused. Daniels gives a "thumbs up" to Derek Rage, and another to Pizzazz. Neither of the Rages dignify him with any kind of response.] DD: Match official Bobby Belshee is ready to get this one underway, folks -- here we go! * DING! DING! DING! * [Danny Daniels moves to the centre of the ring and puts up his left hand in the familiar gesture for a test of strength. Rage looks at Pizzazz, who rolls her eyes and leaves the ring. Rage takes a step forwards, so he's standing face-to... well, face-to-chest with Danny Daniels, and extends his own left arm upwards. Daniels looks up at Rage, then looks up again at Rage's arm! He blinks as the fans laugh.] DD: Danny Daniels may *think* he's a seven foot wrestler, Billy Shakespeare, but just look at the difference in size between these two men! BS: Daniels can't even reach Rage's hand! [Daniels continues to stare up in amazement at Rage... and Rage decides that he's waited long enough, grabbing Daniels around the waist and tossing him across the ring with a belly-to-belly suplex. Daniels lands on his right arm and yells out in pain as he gets back to his feet, to be met by a big boot to the face from the huge Rage! Big pop as Daniels goes down! Rage drags Daniels back to his feet, spins him around, then drops him backwards with a belly-to-back suplex! Big pop!] DD: When a man as big as Derek Rage picks you up and drops you on the back of your head, you really feel it, Billy Shakespeare! BS: You certainly do, Don! Daniels may have just come down from a height of about 10 feet! [Daniels rolls out of the ring, dazed, and runs his left hand through his tousled blonde hair. Belshee moves to prevent Rage from following, but since when did a 5'10" man prevent a 7'3" giant from doing anything? Rage steps over the top rope and goes to jump down from the apron... only to be met by a shot from Daniels's cast to Rage's stomach!] DD: Daniels just used that cast against Derek Rage! BS: One wonders just how injured Danny Daniels's right arm really is. [Rage is bent double by the shot to the gut, and Daniels capitalises, hitting a swinging neckbreaker on the big man, taking him down to the arena floor! Mixed pop! Daniels gets back to his feet and gives a thumbs up to the fans, and then turns with a start to see that Rage is already back to his feet. Wide-eyed, Daniels backs away as Rage stalks after him, and Daniels quickly rolls back into the ring. As Rage follows him in, Daniels stomps away on the big man, trying to prevent him from getting back to his feet. Danny targets the legs, kicking away at both knees.] BS: This is a smart move from Danny Daniels, Don. He's got to try and neutralise that height advantage. DD: And as the old saying goes, everybody's the same height when they're flat on their back! [Danny moves to tie Rage's right leg between the bottom and middle leg and then drops an elbow on the knee, drawing a yell of pain from the big man. Mixed pop from the crowd! Danny gives a thumbs up as Rage frees himself and moves to his feet. Danny is quickly up on the second turnbuckle, and then launches himself at Rage from behind, clipping the right knee and sending Rage back to the mat. Another mixed pop!] DD: Daniels with a diving tackle from the second turnbuckle! [Daniels then grabs Rage by the leg and drags him towards the centre of the ring. He grasps the ankle, then turns... and wraps his own leg around Rage's leg... and falls backwards...!] DD: FIGURE FOUR LEGLOCK! Danny Daniels has got Rage in a figure four leglock! BS: The fact that Danny Daniels *knows* a figure four leglock is a revelation in itself! DD: But look at this, Billy -- Derek Rage is so tall that he can easily reach out behind him and grab hold of the bottom rope! [Indeed, Rage simply reaches up behind him and grabs hold of the rope, official Bobby Belshee signals to Daniels that he has to release the hold. Daniels finally complies, complaining to the official as he does so. He continues to debate the finer points of the rules of wrestling as Rage brings himself back to his feet, shaking out the kinks in his right leg. Rage looks to Pizzazz, shakes his head, and then moves in towards Daniels, practically shoving Belshee out of the way, and sends Daniels for the ride. On the rebound, Rage lifts Daniels up with a backdrop, then hangs on to his legs and drives him downwards! Big pop!] DD: Backdrop driver from Derek Rage! BS: I think this means Rage is done playing here! [Rage grabs the dazed Daniels by his plaster-encased right arm, drawing a yelp of pain from the San Francisco native, and snaps him to the mat by the arm, then drops a big leg across Daniels's neck! Big pop!] DD: Derek Rage now, choking away at Daniels! BS: Go on, Derek! Do us all a favour and stop his yapping! [Belshee puts the count on Rage, who eventually relents, and allows a gasping Daniels to go free for a moment. As Daniels drags himself back to his feet, Rage charges, and knocks Daniels down with a big clothesline. Daniels gets up again, and staggers towards Rage, who kicks him in the stomach and drops him with a jawbreaker! Big pop! Rage goes to lock in a reverse chinlock, but Daniels flails his arms, and manages to hit Rage square in the temple with his cast! Belshee looks suspiciously at Daniels as Rage crumples to the mat, but Daniels protests that the shot was accidental, and Belshee lets it slide.] DD: I don't believe for even one moment that Daniels didn't hit Rage deliberately there, Billy Shakespeare! [Suddenly, there is a commotion at the head of the aisle, as a blue-shirted individual is hurled through the entrance curtain, tumbling in a heap in the aisle. A spotlight then picks out a frightening figure stomping out into the aisle...] DD: IT'S MADROCK! MADROCK IS COMING OUT HERE! BS: And look at the *state* of him! [Swatting aside another blue-shirted security guard, Madrock charges down the aisle, his face still a sticky mask of dark crimson, his wild black hair and beard matted with his own blood, the whites of his eyes still a striking contrast as he stares wildly at the ring. And white is pretty much the colour that Danny Daniels has suddenly gone as he stares down the aisle at the rampaging Australian!] DD: Danny Daniels can't believe this! Here comes Madrock, to get revenge for that attack at the hands of Daniels last week! [Daniels turns to Derek Rage, who is now getting back to his feet, and shouts, "Dougie, help 'Your Hero' squash Murdock!", but Rage's brow is furrowed with fury. Daniels wheels around, looks at the approaching Madrock in the aisle, looks at the furious Derek Rage in the ring... and moves to the side of the ring to bail out... only to be met by Pizzazz!] DD: Pizzazz is *daring* Danny Daniels to try and leave the ring! BS: I wouldn't mix it up with Pizzazz if I were Danny Daniels! [Daniels weakly tries a thumbs up... but Pizzazz is having none of it, and goes to climb to the apron. In the aisle, four blue-shirted security men are surrounding Madrock, slowing his progress down. Daniels turns back into the ring... and walks right into the huge, outstretched hand of Derek Rage, who grabs Daniels's head! Huge pop!] DD: He's got the claw! He's got the claw! [Rage lifts Daniels up... and then *drives* him down to the mat with a huge slam! Big, big pop!] DD: HAMMER OF GOD! HAMMER OF GOD! [Rage drops onto Daniels and hooks the leg as Belshee goes to make the count... 1... 2... ...3!] * DING! DING! DING! * [It's pandemonium in the Garden as Rage stands victorious above the prone form of Danny Daniels, Pizzazz climbing into the ring to congratulate her man, while Madrock continues to try and fight off the four security guards now surrounding his crazed form!] SS: Ladies and gentlemen, your winner by pinfall... DEEEEEEEERRREK RAAAAAAAGE! [Daniels sits up, dazed, clutching his right arm, focuses his eyes on the aisle and sees the nightmarish form of Madrock still approaching... and he takes off! He rolls out of the ring, hops over the guardrail, and staggers out through the crowd!] DD: Danny Daniels has been pinned here tonight by the awesome Derek Rage -- but chalk up an assist to Madrock the Irrepressible, whose very presence has sent Daniels packing! BS: Look at him go, Don -- he's halfway up the aisle towards the exit already! DD: These rivalries are just boiling over, Billy Shakespeare. Madrock is like an animal out here! We have to take a break, folks! We'll be right back. [Madrock knocks over another security guard and lunges for the crowd barriers, trying to climb over them and chase Daniels through the fans. Fade to commercials.] [Fade back from commercials to show Rick Marley sat on a bench in the locker room, adjusting his knee pads. He looks up as Ryan Faith saunters into the locker room, drawing a distant heel pop from the fans in the arena. Marley stands and looks Faith directly in the eye.] RF: I hear that you've been talking about me. I hear you've got some kind of problem with me. Is that so? [Marley looks the other man up and down, hostility obvious on his features, as he crosses his arms across his chest.] RM: I don't think I made a secret about it... you're SURPRISED that I have a beef with what you did? RF: So you think that what I did to you is personal? You think that I give a rat's ass about a no-talent hack like you who doesn't even deserve to be standing here next to me right now? Don't flatter yourself. I do everything I do for business purposes. You just happen to be another one of the wave of wrestlers here in RCW who aren't fit to even tie my boots. RM: It ain't tyin' your boots that you have to worry about. Business... personal... I don't terribly care how you define it. See, for me, business IS personal, and right now, you're about fifteen seconds from swallowing your teeth. [Ryan leans in a little closer.] RF: Can you say that again? I think I heard you wrong. RM: Which part did you want me to spell? Business? Personal? Or was it the teeth thing? [Ryan smirks.] RF: Yeah, the teeth thing. I'd like to see you try. You might have more success with that than you've had with anything else in your career. I mean, wrestling in UEW? That's like trying to bully a class full of second graders. Hell, that's nothing I'm scared of. Running you out of the RCW... it wasn't going to take much time or effort. But now, now I think I'll enjoy doing that. I think I'll enjoy pounding you from pillar to post when we have our match at Wild Summer Night. No, not because it's personal. [A beat.] RF: No... it's because you're becoming quite annoying. [Marley smirks at the man staring him down and shakes his head.] RM: Listen... I've been in the ring with some of the best in the biz... and you don't even BEGIN to measure up. Beat me pillor to post? Take your best shot... it's just not gonna be enough. But... well... with guys like you, it never is, is it? Face it... you're a dime a dozen... one among many. Are you supposed to SCARE me with this schtick? Is that it? Dude, you're gonna have to do better than this. Seriously. [Ryan looks away for a second before just shaking his head and coming back and jabbing his finger into the cruiserweight's chest.] RF: I don't have to scare you. I don't even have to give all of what I have to beat you. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time. You're the one who has been looking for me. But amazingly, I found you. I wasn't hiding. If you really wanted to say something to me, or do something to me... you could have found me. I understand, being dropped on your head might have rattled a few things up there. But don't think you know me. Don't think you can beat me. How's about worrying about the beating Lord Byron is about to give you? And when he does that... remember, that at Wild Summer Night... I'm gonna kick your ass worse than that. [Marley's eyes go hard as he looks at his foe.] RM: Why wait? [He lunges for the other man, and the crowd go crazy as the two men start punching at each other! Only moments pass before several officials, referees and security guards swarm into the locker room, separating them. As Ryan Faith is dragged away, he hisses at Marley:] RF: Save your energy for Byron. I'll see your ass later. [Marley is left standing in the locker room, staring after Faith, his chest heaving from adrenaline and anger. Cut back to Ditka and Shakespeare at ringside.] DD: Ryan Faith is doing his best to unsettle Rick Marley ahead of what he may consider the biggest match of his young career -- going up against one of the most legendary men in this sport, Lord Byron. Let's get up to the ring! ___ ______ __ / _ \/ ___/ | /| / / / , _/ /__ | |/ |/ / Lord Byron vs. "Showtime" Rick Marley /_/|_|\___/ |__/|__/ [Sy Simmons once again takes to the ring with microphone in hand.] SS: Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first... # Look.. if you had.. one shot, or one opportunity # To seize everything you ever wanted.. in one moment # Would you capture it.. or just let it slip? Yo.. [The arena lights dim as laser lights begin to play around the roof of the arena for a five count. Suddenly, a pair of white pyro bursts set in time with the bass drum light up the entry way as the main beat of "Lose Yourself" by Eminem floods the PA system.] SS: ...hailing from Allentown, Pennsylvania, and weighing in at 215lbs, here is... "SHOOOOOWTIIIIME" RIIIIIIICCK MAAAAAAAAARLEY! [Big pop as "Showtime" Rick Marley appears in the entranceway. The fair-skinned light heavyweight has his long dark hair pulled back in a ponytail and wears a midnight blue set of long legged trunks with the word "Showtime" stitched across the butt. White spotlights trail up from his black boots and cascade up the pant legs.] DD: Marley still has to be steamed up after that backstage confrontation with Ryan Faith, Billy Shakespeare. BS: No kidding, Don. But if there's ever a wrestler you need to be totally focused on in order to survive, it's Lord Byron. Marley had better put Faith out of his head, and fast! [Marley slaps hands with the fans on either side of the aisle, but then he breaks into a sprint, sliding under the bottom rope, striding across the squared circle to climb to the second rope in front of the announcer's table, where he raises both hands to the crowd. Pop!] DD: These fans are warming to Marley, Billy Shakespeare. And I see quite a bit of a certain Oregonian high-flyer in this young man... BS: You flatter me, Don, or do Marley a disservice. Marley and Dorado put on an incredible display two weeks ago. Both of them are amazing young athletes with a big future here in RCW. [Marley rolls his neck in the ring as Eminem fades over the PA.] SS: And his opponent... [The arena lights dim, fading almost to total darkness. The capacity crowd hoots, whistles and jeers in anticipation.] # DON'T HOLD BACK... [The "Born To Rule" remix of the Chemical Brothers' "Galvanize" blasts out over the PA system, cutting Simmons off in mid-introduction, and the crowd leaps to their feet..] SS: ...hailing from Lancashire, England, and weighing in at 255lbs... here is... LOOOOOOOOOORD BYYYYYYYRON! # I climbed to the mountaintops, looked down on the masses and I # Don't hold back # As I stand above you all, I see the hate in your faces so I # Don't hold back [A single spotlight lights up the entranceway as the curtain is swept aside... and Byron strides out onto the stage, rolling his signature brass-topped cane between his palms. He pauses at the top of the aisle, rising up to his full height, and casts his gaze around the packed arena, one hand rising to stroke his chin...] # Trade-off pain for glory, torment for success, you know I # Don't hold back # Everything's against me, the conflict never-ending, but I # Don't hold back [Byron tilts his head, and sneers at the fans, contempt etched across his features.] DD: Here comes Lord Byron, Billy Shakespeare. BS: A more arrogant man I have yet to meet -- but the sad thing is that Byron can back up every claim he makes right there in that squared circle. [The spotlight follows Byron as he strides purposefully towards the ring, snatching his arm away and glaring at a fan who dares to reach out and touch him. Byron pauses by the Hobo Section, smirks at Cassidy, and appluds himÊwith slow, sarcastic clapping. The camera microphone picks up his comments:] Ê B: Finally, you've figured out where in this arena you belong, Cassidy?Ê Well... assuming you've bought tickets, and not snuck in? Ê [Byron points at the retaining barriers.] Ê B: Take my advice, Cassidy, and stay there -- *this* side is reserved for the *real* athletes. [Not appreciating the comments, "The Jersey Drifter" rises from his seat, glaring back at the cocky Byron. You can see his eyes light up with anger as he reflects on the injury in the back of his mind. However, despite his inner turmoil Cassidy is calm in his reaction. He raises his left hand and puts his index finger up in the air. The drunken Hobo Section immediately pipes in with a "JUST! ONE! SEC-OND! JUST! ONE! SEC-OND!" chant.] DD: Look at ByronÕs face. He doesnÕt appreciate hearing that from the crowd. BS: Of course not. That defeat at Cassidy's hand -- or should I say fist? -- probably ranks as one of the most embarrassing in-ring moments of his entire career. I say good. [Byron moves off, walking quickly around the side of the ring, and slides his cane onto the corner of the apron, under the turnbuckles.] # The world is holdin' back... # The time has come, I was born to rule... # The world is holdin' back... # The time has come, I was born to rule... # The world is holdin' back... # The time has come... [Byron quickly ascends the ring steps, then climbs up to the second turnbuckle on the outside, he raises his arms out to shoulder height, palms up, his chin raised proudly as he gazes at the heavens, a self-satisfied smirk on his face. He lowers his head slowly, his expression changing as he glances around the packed audience, returning their jeers with a look of complete disdain.] # I was born to rule... # C'mon, c'mon, c'mon... # [Byron catches hold of the top rope, leans back and then vaults straight over the top into the ring. He unties his ponytail, flicks his hair back, and sneers at Marley. Official Juan Morales signals for the bell.] * DING! DING! DING! * [Byron and Marley circle each other in the center of the ring, and then lock up in a collar-and-elbow tie-up. Byron slips Marley into a side headlock, then takes him down to the mat. Marley rolls over with headscissors, forcing Byron to release the hold and kick his way out. Both men roll to their feet, and Marley hits the ropes. Byron drops to the canvas as Marley jumps over him, and as Marley comes back a second time, Byron attempts a backdrop... and Marley flips out, landing on his feet! Big pop!] DD: Great agility from Marley... Byron now, wheeling around... and taken down to the mat with a headlock takedown! [Now it's Byron's turn to use the headscissors to escape, Marley forced to kick out, and both men roll to their feet, immediately poised to leap in and grapple each other again. The fans give a round of applause!] BS: A fast-paced opening from both men, Don, feeling each other out. [Marley gives Byron a curt nod of respect. Byron pauses, then tilts his head in acknowledgement. The fans again applaud. Marley returns their applause -- but Byron just straightens, and sneers back at the fans with a shake of his head, turning the applause back to boos.] DD: Marley and Byron look evenly-matched in there, Billy Shakespeare. BS: Marley's going to be quicker than Byron, Don -- but Byron's more or less unrivalled technical skill makes him perhaps more than equal to Marley's challenge. Though one area in which these two men are *not* evenly matched is class. DD: Let me guess: Byron's got a lot of class, but it's all low? BS: Something like that! [Meanwhile, on the outside of the ring, "The Jersey Drifter" has approached the retaining barrier at ringside. While he takes a sip out of his flask, he continues his stare-down of Byron. The aristocrat notices as he circles Marley, and makes an inaudible snide remark in LiamÕs direction.] DD: The presence of Liam Cassidy at ringside seems to be bothering Byron mentally. I donÕt think he was quite prepared for Liam to be here. BS: I think Byron was expecting Cassidy to fade away and not come back. Liam standing here at ringside is like an act of defiance that Byron surely doesnÕt appreciate. [Deciding to get an even closer look, the crowd cheers as Liam slowly climbs back over the retaining barrier. Standing at ringside, he doesnÕt take his eyes off of Byron as he approaches Ditka and Shakespeare, seated at the commentatorÕs table. Byron informs the official of LiamÕs presence, but Morales just shrugs it off and tells Byron to wrestle.] BS: HeÕs coming over here now, Don. [Cassidy pauses in front of the desk. He slowly leans back against it, and plops himself up right on the desk in front of Don and Billy.] DD: I guess Liam Cassidy has decided to join us, Billy Shakespeare. BS: If heÕs going to sit here, I think IÕll play devilÕs advocate. Hey Liam, want a headset? [As Billy Shakespeare gets a third headset and hands it to Liam, Byron and Marley lock up again.] DD: Welcome to the announcerÕs position, Liam. LC: Hey, lads. BS: Liam, what are you doing here? LC: I came to get me a real close look at Byron. HeÕs done me a world of trouble by breaking my arm, but I want that bastard to know that he hasnÕt beaten me. DD: How's the arm feeling? LC: ItÕs Don, right? Well, Don... I ainÕt gonna lie. It still hurts like hell. But itÕll heal. And when it does, it's bad news for that guy in the ring right now. [In the ring, Byron sends Marley for the ride, and the cruiserweight comes back with a tremendous dropkick, knocking Byron down. Both men are quick to their feet, and Marley tosses Byron to the mat with a jumping armdrag. Byron again rolls back to his feet, and Marley goes for a spinning kick, but Byron blocks it, grabbing Marley's foot. Marley goes for an enzuigiri, but Byron ducks underneath the spinning foot, grabbing Marley in a rear waistlock, and *tossing* him with a reverse German release suplex, planting Marley hard on the back of his skull and neck. Heel pop!] DD: Tremendous counter from Byron, using that leverage advantage to its fullest! BS: Marley's quick, but Byron can turn a match with one move. LC: Sounds like somebody else we know, eh, lads? [As Marley gets back to his feet, Byron hits him with a shoulderblock to the midsection, then *slams* Marley to the mat with a swinging neckbreaker. Heel pop! Byron gets back to his feet and drags Marley back to a standing position, then sends him to the ropes -- but Marley holds on and reverses the whip attempt... and Byron reverses it again, keeping hold of their arm, and hitting a diving short-arm clothesline!] DD: Diving STO! Byron nearly took Marley's head off with that clothesline! BS: How do you expect to counter moves like that, Liam? Forgive me for saying so, but your in-ring skills are no match for the technical expertise of Byron. LC: Ya know, lad, I heard that before -- and I ended up knocking his arse out, in less than a minute, I seem to recall. BS: Sure, but that was when you were one hundred percent. You canÕt expect that hand to be completely healed by the time your match comes around at Wild Summer Night. LC: Well, IÕll just find a different way now, wonÕt I? DD: That could be easier said than done. [Byron brings Marley back to his knees and stares down at Cassidy, signalling that this will be his fate before too long... and Marley drives a forearm up between the blueblood's legs! Big pop from the crowd as Byron is bent double. Marley hops up and puts his leg over Byron's head, then *drives* him down to the canvas!] DD: Modified DDT! Marley has got back into the driving seat! [Marley bounds to the corner of the ring and hops up onto the turnbuckle, readying himself to launch an aerial assault on Byron. But Byron senses the danger and rolls out of the ring, standing on the arena floor in front of the announce table. Marley looks down at Byron... shifts his weight... and then launches himself! Cameras flash all over the arena as Marley launches himself at Byron... ...and Byron steps out of the way, and actively *guides* Marley into a direct collision with Cassidy on the announce table! Big heel pop!] DD: Oh my g...! [The commentary is cut off as Ditka's headset is yanked from his head by the impact of Marley hitting the table, sending Cassidy careening backwards over the table. Byron regards his handiwork, gives a mock bow to Shakespeare, and rolls back into the ring to break the count. He then rolls right back out, extricates Marley from the carnage, and rolls him back into the ring, while Ditka, Shakespeare and Cassidy recover their composure at the broadcast position.] DD: Damn that Byron. Are you okay, Billy Shakespeare? BS: I'm fine, Don. Liam? LC: I'm all right, lad. Nothing I've not had done to be a hundred times in a bar brawl. I'd always come out on top in the end -- and it's going to be no exception with this one in the end, mark my words. All it takes is just... one... second! [Cassidy raises his voice as he says these three words, and ringside fans latch onto it, the chant soon spreading through the fans... "JUST! ONE! SEC-OND! JUST! ONE! SEC-OND!" Byron gives a dismissive sneer and brings Marley to his feet, and immediately snaps him over with a fishermanbuster! Big heel pop!] DD: Vicious fishermanbuster from Lord Byron -- and this is where we'll see that famous mean streak, Billy Shakespeare! BS: No kidding, Don. Byron will have seen Marley's recent matches and he knows that Marley has taken a lot of shots to the head and neck. Marley may as well have a bullseye painted on him. LC: Look at that ass[BLEEP] showing off. If he gets close enough and so much as takes his eyes off of me for more than a second, you know exactly whatÕs going to happen to him. DD: You sound very devoted to the idea of beating Byron at Wild Summer Night, Liam. LC: Course I am. That bastich tried to take away my livelihood. I donÕt take too kindly to that. He made this thing real personal, real quick. And I know the odds are against me, but theyÕve been like that my whole life. You know what, guys? IÕm still here. I find ways to survive and I do it on my way. [Byron cinches in a camel clutch and shouts insults down at Cassidy, keeping the hold on Marley locked in long enough to strain his back and neck. Byron lets him go, slapping the back of Marley's head as he releases him. Heel pop!] DD: What disrespect from Byron, Billy Shakespeare! BS: He knows Marley is more likely to make mistakes if he's angry, Don. [Byron drags Marley to his feet, and the cruiserweight swats away Byron's hands, jumping up from a standing position with a hurricanrana, flipping Byron down, then arching back and grabbing Byron's legs to roll him up into a pinning predicament! Morales goes to make the count... 1... 2... ...and Byron kicks out, pushing Marley's body forwards and pinning his shoulders down with his own legs... 1... 2... ...and Marley kicks out! Relieved pop from the crowd!] DD: Desperation stuff from Marley here, Billy Shakespeare. Byron seems to be on cruise control in this match. [Byron brings Marley back to his feet and sends him to the ropes, on the return quickly gripping Marley in a waistlock and tossing him with a belly-to-belly suplex! Heel pop as Marley lands hard on his neck and shoulders! Byron drags Marley to his feet again and whips him into the corner. Byron charges in... but Marley ducks out of the way and darts behind Byron, hitting him with a dropkick to the back that sends him face-first into the buckles! Big pop!] DD: Byron now, eating foam padding! LC: An' even that's too good for him! BS: Couldn't have put it better myself, Liam! [Byron staggers backwards... and finds himself *drilled* to the mat with an inverted DDT! Marley looks to the cheering fans and points to the top rope. The crowd eggs him on, and Marley goes to the outside, climbs to the top turnbuckle, and stands there, poised! Cameras flash all over the arena as Marley strikes a pose on the top buckle... but then Byron is up!] DD: Byron is up! Byron is up, and he jumps nimbly to the second buckle! [Byron takes Marley down from the top rope with a rolling armdrag, keeping hold of him as he tumbles down from the top, both men *crashing* to the mat... and then the fans give a tremendous heel pop as they see what has happened!] DD: ARISTOCLUTCH ARMBAR! ARISTOCLUTCH! BS: I'll be darned. [Byron quickly grapevines Marley's body with his legs, having already gripped Marley's wrist under his arm and locked both his arms behind Marley's elbow. Marley's free arm is pinned back by Byron's legs, and Marley strains against the terrible forces exerted upon him by the blueblood!] BS: The Aristoclutch is agony, Don! Agony! Look at how the trapezius is hyper-extended in the neck, look at how the shoulder is wrenched so far back as to almost be dislocated... and Byron has done such damage to Marley's neck that he's got to be absolutely wracked with pain! DD: I can't see Marley hanging on too long in this hold, Billy Shakespeare, and I can't see any escape! Liam Cassidy, you know too well what this feels like. LC: I got half a mind to get in there an' do somethin' about it, lad! DD: You stay where you are -- official Juan Morales checking on Marley, but the young man from Allentown, PA is a lion in there, he's all heart, and he won't give up easy! [The fans chant "MAR-LEY! MAR-LEY!" as the cruiserweight battles in vain against the unbreakable Aristoclutch. Byron leans back, applying even more pressure, and locks his legs ever tighter around Marley's body, now squeezing him sufficiently to impede his breathing. Morales is down on the canvas, checking on Marley.] DD: If Marley won't quit, Morales may have to stop this match, Billy Shakespeare! BS: Marley may be tough, but there's no way out of this hold. If he's smart, he'll submit, and live to fight another day. [Morales finally signals for the bell, to a big heel pop from the fans!] * DING! DING! DING! * DD: I didn't see Marley submit -- I think Morales stopped this match. BS: Let's get the official word. [As Byron finally releases the Aristoclutch armbar, and Marley rolls onto his side, clutching at his right shoulder with an agonised look on his face, Sy Simmons receives the official word from official Juan Morales.] SS: Ladies and gentlemen, the referee has ruled that "Showtime" Rick Marley cannot continue this match. [Heel pop!] SS: Therefore, your winner... LOOOOOOOORD BYYYYYYRON! [Huge heel pop as "Galvanise" kicks in over the PA once again, and Byron rolls from the ring, turning his attention to the announce position.] DD: Easy now, Liam -- donÕt let him get to you. BS: That may easier said than done, Don. [Cassidy doesnÕt get up from his seat on top of the desk as Byron stands in front of the broadcast booth. With a coy grin on his face, Byron nods at Billy Shakespeare.] B: WhatÕs this? Are we slumming it tonight, Shakespeare? Or just sinking to your natural level. Ê [Byron sneers at Shakespeare, then turns his head to Liam. Cassidy pops up from his seat and stands nose to nose with Byron, staring him down.]Ê B: I gave you your warning, Cassidy... you want me at Wild Summer Night?Ê I WILL break you -- don't think I won't. LC: Funny. I was about to say the exact same thing to you, lad. B: Break me, Liam? You? That's comical -- you're not in my league, fool. Never were. LC: Oh, laugh it up, Byron. Enjoy youself. Because at that pay-per-view thing, IÕll knock your ass out. And not just that, IÕm gonna take the fight right to ya. You wanna wrassle? IÕll wrassle you. You wanna fight? YouÕre gonna lose that fight, Byron, mark my words. B: You? Wrestle? Let me enlighten you, Liam -- I've forgotten more about wrestling than you'll *ever* know. And as for a fight... [Liam cuts Byron off neatly...] LC: Just one second, Byron. [Liam holds up his finger in ByronÕs face. Byron seethes with anger, staring at the Jersey Drifter.] LC: I did last time in under sixty seconds. Maybe this time IÕll knock you out in thirty. B: Do you want me to break that finger as well, Liam? Easily done, you know. [Byron snarls, and swats away Liam's left hand, but Liam defiantly thrusts it back in his face again, to a roar of approval from the crowd!] LC: Just one second... [The Hobo Section pick up on this and immediately lead the Rose Garden in a huge chant...] "JUST! ONE! SEC-OND! JUST! ONE! SEC-OND!" "JUST! ONE! SEC-OND! JUST! ONE! SEC-OND!" "JUST! ONE! SEC-OND! JUST! ONE! SEC-OND!" [Byron cast a contemptous, angry glare around the jeering crowd, then snap back to Cassidy, locking eyes with the Jersey Drifter again. Byron cocks his head to one side with a sneer, spitting insults at wrestling's first hobo, before slapping Liam's hand away once more -- only for Liam to thrust that dirty finger right back in the blueblood's face again!] DD: All right, letÕs not get carried away here! [Clearly fuming from the crowd's chants, Byron swats Cassidy's hand away a third time... before stiffing the Drifter with a hard slap across the face!] "OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!" BS: Too late, Don! Here come the fireworks! [The Jersey Drifter boils over, and instinctively raises his right hand to fire off a fist to ByronÕs jaw. However, Liam stops it halfway, remembering the extent of his injury -- but that one second of hesitation is enough for Byron to capitalize.] DD: Byron has Cassidy by that injured hand! Stop it! For God's sake, stop it, Byron! [Byron smirks as he catches the Drifter's injured wrist, twisting it, slowly driving Liam back and down, reminding the Jersey Drifter -- as if he needed it -- of his handicap. And of course, to see the pain on Liam's face and watch him wince. And wince he does as the pain in his hand wracks his body.] BS: Come on, Byron!Ê The guy's injured!Ê Haven't you done enough?! [Byron sneers at Shakespeare, and with a shake of his head, drives his point home -- clocking Cassidy with his free hand, causing The Jersey Drifter to stumble over and fall to the floor. Smirking, Byron flicks his hair back, standing tall over Liam as he clutches at the cast on his right wrist.] DD: That was a vile cheapshot that Byron just took. And look, now heÕs proud of it. HeÕs proud of the fact that he exploited an injury that he caused by taking things too far last RAMPAGE. This is disgusting. [Byron slowly backs away, laughing to himself as Cassidy sits on the floor, glaring up at him. Byron snatches his brass-topped cane from the ring apron, points it at Liam, and with a toss of his head, starts to make his way back up the aisle as "Galvanise" by the Chemical Brothers blasts out of the PA system to a raucous heel pop.] DD: Well, Billy, that could have been a lot worse, but I think ByronÕs driven his point home to Liam Cassidy. As long as he relies on that right fist of his, the DrifterÕs in trouble. [As Bryon makes his way back up the aisle, Liam slowly composes himself enough to get up. Wincing, itÕs clear that heÕs in tremendous pain.] BS: You know something, Liam, I hate seeing Byron do this to you. But youÕre never going to beat that man if you keep relying on your fists to win your battles. [The Jersey Drifter turns his attention to Shakespeare and is on the defensive.] LC: What do you know about it? BS: What do I know? [Billy chuckles amusingly to himself.] BS: I know that there were about eight different things you could have done in that situation, and you went right back to what brought you to the dance. I know that ByronÕs smart enough now to know that and exploit that. And I know that if you want to beat Byron at Wild Summer Night, you need to learn how to wrestle. Fast. Because going in with the mindset to just knock him out isnÕt going to get you anywhere. Trust me. I know what it takes to go one-on-one with Byron. LC: You fought him before? BS: Not as such... but I've seen him fight -- and I know his weaknesses. Better than you do. We used to be in the IIWF together, many years ago. LC: Then teach me. BS: Pardon me? LC: If you know so much about Byron and what it takes to beat him, than teach me. Show me how to wrassle. I ainÕt got much to offer, but IÕll pay ya if thatÕs what you want. Just whatever it takes to make that [BLEEP] eat his words. DD: Well, how about it, Billy? [The former IIWF Intercontinental and Cruiserweight Champion ponders for a moment. The crowd around ringside roar with approval.] LC: What do ya say, lad? [Liam stretches out his left hand to Billy. Pausing to ponder it for a moment, Billy slowly reaches out and shakes his hand.] BS: All right, youÕre on. WeÕve got five weeks to get you ready. IÕll see you tomorrow. [The entire Rose Garden cheers now.] DD: Well, folks, how about that! [Cassidy smiles and nods at his new teacher. Liam climbs back over the retaining barrier, returning to his spot amongst the Hobo Section.] DD: Billy Shakespeare, agreeing to train Liam Cassidy to take on *the* Lord Byron. Who would have thought it possible? BS: Frankly, IÕm as shocked as you are. But you know what? ItÕll be worth it just to see the look on ByronÕs face when Cassidy outwrestles him at Wild Summer Night. DD: You think thatÕs going to happen? BS: IÕll do my damnedest to *make* it happen. DD: And... [Ditka pauses for a moment as he listens to something inaudible in his earpiece.] DD: ...just a moment, folks. This isn't going to be a big surprise to anyone but... BS: Let me guess, we've got something going on backstage? DD: Got it in one, Billy Shakespeare. [The scene switches to a corridor backstage where an angry Jodee Burwick can be seen confronting a trio of RCW security guards. Dennis "Griff" Griffing, RCW's chief of security, can be seen holding up his hands in a placating manner as Rip City's resident "cougar" brandishes a small plastic disposable camera in his face.] JB: ...he dropped this on the way out! I want him arrested!! DG: Ms. Burwick, I'll hear what he has to say and then we'll sort all this out, OK? [At this point, a large familiar figure walks into view on the opposite side of the group of guards from Burwick. In the arena, the fans watching the events unfold on the giant video screen cheer in recognition at Orin "The Lynx" LeBlanc who appears flanked by another pair of security guards. The big Canadian has an irritated expression on his face which only darkens as he spots Burwick.] OL: What's goin' on here? [Griffing sighs heavily and turns to look up at LeBlanc as behind him, Burwick points a heavily manicured finger at "The Lynx" and shrieks at the top of her lungs.] JB: THERE HE IS! THERE'S THE PERVERT! DG: Mr. LeBlanc... uh, Ms. Burwick here claims that she caught you trying to sneak into the women's change room earlier tonight. That you were trying to take pictures of some of the ladies while they were showering? Do you know anything about this? [LeBlanc's face darkens even further in anger as Burwick brandishes the disposable camera.] JB: HE DROPPED THIS CAMERA WHEN HE RAN AWAY! HE'S A PEEPING TOM!! OL: [gritting his teeth] Mister Griffing, I may be a lot o' things that can't be called "nice", but a pervert ain't one o' them! The past few weeks, this woman here's been nothin' but nuts to me. Anyone close to any real claim of deviancy around here, it'd be her! [He pauses as the hint of a smirk now crosses his face.] OL: An' I got more important things to do with my time than watch Miz Burwick play "Desperate Housewives". Seen it once already a couple weeks earlier an' I wasn't impressed... JB: HA! The only one "desperate" around here is YOU, you lech! [Burwick slaps the disposable camera down into Griffing's upturned palm as Rip City's chief of security looks like he'd rather be rooting through garbage than having to deal with this particular situation. One of the guards beside him is busily appraising the buxom figure of Burwick while the others stare nervously at the heavily muscled bulk of LeBlanc.] JB: The proof you need is right here! Develop those pictures and you'll see what this degenerate was up to!! [Griffing shakes his head from side to side as he looks up at LeBlanc once more.] DG: Mr. LeBlanc... I have to ask you this. Can you account for your whereabouts earlier this evening? [Oddly enough, the smirk actually turns into a full-fledged grin.] OL: Actually, I can. See, apparently the Man Upstairs was concerned that I might be a bit... impulsive... about takin' matters into my own hands again, what with all that handicappin' against my head last RAMPAGE. Guess he was worried about his main event tonight. I don't know why he'd think that... [Orin's eyes harden a little, but his tone remains even.] OL: ...but the truth o' the matter is one o' your men has been watchin' me like the proverbial hawk already while I've been here! [At this LeBlanc claps one of the guards next to him on the shoulder.] DG: Wilkins, is this true? Guard: Um, yes sir, it is. OL: Noli know you like to watch, Miz Burwick? That explains a lot! [Burwick's expression of rage hardens her face and betrays crows' feet lines at the corners of her eyelids as she points an accusatory finger at the nervous-looking guard.] JB: THEY'RE IN ON IT TOGETHER! I bet this... this Wilkins character was just waiting to download these pictures onto the Internet so that these two could share them with all of their pervert friends!! [LeBlanc's anger is visibly growing and the guard looks even more nervous as Griffing turns to face Burwick, the disposable camera still held in one hand.] DG: Look, Ms. Burwick, right now all I've got in this matter is your word against theirs. Basic math means two witnesses tend to outnumber one but... [He holds up a hand to forestall her imminent protest.] DG: ...I think the best thing for everyone is that we simply ensure that all parties involved keep their distance from one another, all right? McMorran... Bevers... [Two of the guards step forward.] DG: ...kindly escort Ms. Burwick here to her locker room and make sure that she's not disturbed, all right? [The guards nod in acknowledgement as Burwick seethes while Griffing turns to face LeBlanc.] DG: Wilkins... Castillo... please escort Mr. LeBlanc here to HIS dressing room... and make sure that he remains there until such time as he is needed. [Before LeBlanc can protest, Griffing holds up a restraining hand.] DG: That's the last I want to hear on this matter, folks. We're all adults here so kindly behave accordingly. In the meantime, I'll see just what this... "evidence"... [He holds up the disposable camera.] DG: ...shows us. [As the two guards assigned to her begin leading Burwick away, she looks back over her shoulder and shrieks in a painfully high voice.] JB: YOU'RE GONNA PAY, ORIN! YOU HEAR ME?!? [Griffing walks off in a different direction leaving LeBlanc alone with two RCW security guards standing nervously in attendance.] OL: [grumbling] Woman's gonna give me a damn ulcer. [He shakes his head, then turns to his "escorts" as they all start heading the opposite direction.] OL: Either o' you guys got a pack o' cards to pass the time? [Cut back to Don Ditka and Billy Shakespeare at ringside.] DD: Give me a break, Billy Shakespeare! As if Orin LeBlanc would be taking tawdry photos of the ladies of RCW with a disposable camera! BS: It doesn't seem likely, Don, but Griff is right to try and keep Burwick, Nolan Dorado and Orin LeBlanc apart -- particularly after everything we've seen go down tonight. DD: Too true. Folks, this next match promises to be something absolutely off the charts. Two weeks ago Owen Curtis shocked the world when he revealed that "Lone Wolf" Brody Thunder has an illegitimate son, a young man named Logan, apparently a tremendous athlete. BS: And tonight, Brody Thunder has apparently been shamed into agreeing to a match, partnering his son, against the Curtis brothers! DD: Brody Thunder's life is in turmoil right now, Billy Shakespeare. Relations with his wife Tamara are strained, to say the least, following that revelation by Curtis on RAMPAGE, and perhaps Thunder is just reaching out for something -- *anything* -- he can find to put some sense back into his life. BS: Could connecting with a son he's never met help lay some demons to rest? DD: We're about to find out. Don't move a muscle, folks, we'll be right back! [Fade to commercials.] [Fade back from commercials to show Jamie Bond walking in a corridor backstage.] JB: Welcome back to RAMPAGE! I'm Jamie Bond, and I'm on my way to the Thunder locker room. The wrestling world is still in shock about Thunder's apparent illegitimate son, Logan. Okay, here we are. [The door opens and the camera slowly makes its way down a short hall and then around the corner, where we see Brody Thunder and Logan preparing for their tag match. Brody is lacing up his boots with his back to Logan, who sits on a long wooden bench taping up his wrists.] BT: ...don't like it. I don't like this whole idea. I don't know what the hell Spreadbury could've been thinking when he made this match. LT: Don't worry... Dad... this isn't my first match. I can hold my -- BT: S'gawdamn ridiculous! An' stop callin' me dad fer chrissake! This is all crazy! How the hell did it come ta this? [Logan stands up, walks over to Brody and places a hand on Brody's shoulder. Brody stiffens up and turns to face Logan.] LT: Look... I know this is all new to you but you've got to understand something. Ever since I found out that you were my dad I followed your career. I watched you win those IIWF World Titles, hell, Mom and I were at ringside for the second one! I remember you and "Cowboy" Ken Curtis taking on everybody in the SCRA. I was in the crowd the night of... The triple-cross. BT: What the hell's that got ta do with any o'this? I'm about ta go out there in a tag match with some wet-behind-the-ears kid against two men who'll do anything ta win, an' you wanna stroll down Memory Lane? [Logan shakes his head in disapproval.] LT: No. I wasn't bringing up the past because of some case of blind hero worship! I brought it up because... ever since I found out who you were... who *I* was... all I've ever wanted to do was be in a ring with you. I wanted to be just like you. The way you fought inside the ring. The way you never gave up. The way you always did it... on your own terms. I've always admired that about you. And all I want to do tonight... is exactly what you'd do if you were in my shoes. I want to live up to the name Thunder. [Brody rubs his stubbled chin as he stares at the young man.] BT: Look, I know... I know this isn't the ideal situation fer a "reunion", fer lack o'a better term, but tonight I'm goin' out there not to wrestle, but to fight. I'm not gonna be able to watch yer back. When I get my hands on Curtis the match'll be over as far as I'm concerned -- so all you've gotta do is keep the other guy busy an' we'll get thru this fiasco. Unnerstood? [Logan looks at Brody. Slowly a smile appears and he extends his right hand.] LT: I got it. Tonight will be a night the RCW will never forget. What do ya say to that? [Brody looks at Logan's hand, pauses for a moment and then shakes it.] BT: Fair enough, kid. Let's do it. [The pair then walk past the camera and out of the locker room. Cut back to a wide-angle shot of the ring.] * DING! DING! DING! * ___ ______ __ / _ \/ ___/ | /| / / FAMILY FEUD TAG MATCH: / , _/ /__ | |/ |/ / Owen "Truth" Curtis & Eddie "Flash" Curtis vs. /_/|_|\___/ |__/|__/ "Lone Wolf" Brody Thunder & Logan Thunder [Sy Simmons stands in the centre of the ring, and raises the microphone to his lips once more.] SS: Ladies and gentlemen, the following match is a special Family Feud tag team match, and it is scheduled for one fall! [Big pop from the crowd!] SS: Introducing first... [The lights go out. "High Plains Drifter" plays over the loudspeakers. Two spotlights shine on the entrance curtain -- one for Brody, one for Logan. The crowd explodes into cheers.] DD: Here they come! Brody Thunder! And Logan Thunder! And no doubt, they are *ready* to take on Owen and Eddie Curtis! BS: You said it. And when they do, they'll be doing it for each and every person in this crowd! I think folks have had just about enough of the arrogant Owen Curtis! [But there is no one at the entrance... yet. The screams of the crowd grow louder.] DD: Is there some problem? BS: All the world's a stage... some just take their time entering it. Brody and Logan are sending a message -- this is going to be on *their* terms! [Finally, two walk through the curtains -- both wearing cowboy hats, black trunks and black T-shirts -- with their backs to the crowd! The crowd positively erupts!] DD: There they are! The "Lone Wolf" and his offspring! Brody Thunder and Logan Thunder! Two men on a mission, father and son! Two -- BS: No, they aren't, I'm afraid. DD: What do you -- [The two figures have turned around. One is taller, with dark hair. The other is a bit shorter, also with dark hair and a teenage moustache. B ut their T-shirts read, "The older I get, the better I was," and "My daddy fathered me out of wedlock and all I got was this lousy T-shirt." They beam to the crowd. The shorter one, "Brody," smiles, revealing several blacked-out gaps in his teeth.] DD: I'll be damned. That's got to be Owen and Eddie, stirring the fire one more time. These two make me sick. Don't they realize they've angered Brody Thunder enough? BS: As far as Owen is concerned, he can *never* anger the Lone Wolf enough. And in my opinion, it's a mistake to anger him at all. You have to admire their attention to detail, though. Both of them have chew can circles in the backs of their trunks. [As indeed they do. They start to proceed further... but the shorter of the two, Eddie, or rather, "Brody," turns up gimpy. "Logan" whistles to the curtain, and an attendant rushes out with a wooden cane -- a cane with training wheels on it. "Logan" takes off his cowboy hat and hands it to the attendant, revealing a rainbow colored propeller beanie underneath it. Then "Brody" and "Logan" slowly advance to the ring -- "Brody" gimping along clumsily, and "Logan" tagging along excitedly. Halfway through, he whips out a yo-yo and starts playing with it.] DD: This is all too much. In fact, it's an absolute travesty. Someone, please... make them stop. BS: I think, unfortunately, they're just getting started. ["Logan," er, Owen procures a microphone from somewhere and speaks.] "LT": Daddy... "BT": Whut, son? "LT": Wuz I done born during the Iraq war? [Brody scratches his noggin.] "BT": Hhmmmm... well, no, son. You wuz born before that. Why do yuh ask? "LT": If'n I'd been done born then, daddy, you could have done used one of them Saddam condoms! You know, for ds who refuse to pull out! Then I wouldna done had the embarassment of never done being borned! [Suddenly the crowd give another huge pop as two more figures pelt out of the entranceway! "Brody" and "Logan" wheel around -- and see the very angry Brody Thunder and his son Logan bearing down on them at high speed!] DD: Thank God! Brody Thunder has heard enough -- just as all of us have! [The crowd go absolutely bananas as Brody and Logan Thunder send Owen and Eddie Curtis clattering to ringside, and roll both men into the ring. Both Curtises immediately retreat to their corner as Logan and Brody slide into the ring after them. Official Jim Bright signals for the bell as father and son look at each other.] * DING! DING! DING! * DD: Brody and Logan aren't going to take any more nonsense from Eddie and Owen Curtis. Brody is telling Logan that he's going to start out this match -- but which of the Curtises is going to have the guts to get in there against Brody Thunder? [As Logan steps between the ropes and takes up his position in his corner, Brody points towards the opposite corner, where both Owen and Eddie stand, neither of them too keen to move into the ring to face the cowboy. Thunder motions to Owen Curtis to come out and face him, but Owen looks anything but keen on that idea. The fans start to chant something quite unsavoury...] "CHICK-EN-SHIT! CHICK-EN-SHIT!" DD: Well, Billy Shakespeare, this is live television... but these fans are letting Owen and Eddie Curtis know exactly what they think of them. BS: The Curtis brothers can certainly dish it out, but they don't seem to be able to man up when it counts, Don. [Thunder has finally had enough, and charges into the corner, and Owen quickly shoves Eddie out to meet the big Arizonan, ducking out of the ring to safety as Thunder *floors* Eddie with a big clothesline! Big pop!] DD: I don't think Eddie Curtis was expecting to start this match! BS: In that case, he doesn't know his brother very well! [Eddie pops back up, and gets two hard shots to the jaw from Thunder for his trouble! Eddie is staggered backwards, and Thunder bounces off the ropes, *exploding* into Eddie with a big lariat that again takes "Flash" down to the canvas! Big pop!] DD: Brody Thunder is such a powerful athlete, Billy Shakespeare. BS: He's powerful, and he's got great technique. He can hurt you with power, he can hurt you with throws, he can hurt you with submissions. He's the total package -- which is why he's been so successful over the past decade. DD: You underestimate the "Lone Wolf" at your peril. BS: You can say *that* again. [Thunder drags Eddie to his feet, then slings Curtis's arm across his shoulder, then grabs a handful of Curtis's tights... then throws himself backwards, tossing Curtis over his head and sending him crashing to the mat!] "OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!" DD: T-BONE SUPLEX! T-BONE SUPLEX! BS: Beautifully executed, too, Don! [Curtis rolls to his knees slowly as Thunder points over Eddie's head towards Owen, who watches from the ring apron. Curtis makes a "you're finished" gesture to Thunder, drawing a heel pop from the fans.] DD: Owen Curtis is plenty bold enough from out there on the apron, Billy Shakespeare. [Thunder doesn't take kindly to this gesture, and marches over towards Curtis's corner of the ring. En route, Eddie Curtis dodges in and drops Thunder with a drop toe hold, Thunder's face hitting the buckles in Curtis's corner. Immediately the Curtises are all over Thunder, dragging him back to his feet, Owen Curtis choking away at the cowboy while Eddie hits him with boots to the midsection. The crowd jeers as official Jim Bright moves in to try and break up the double-team... and on the other side of the ring, Logan Thunder looks on, a conflicted look on his face.] DD: Come on, Logan! Get in there, help your father! BS: I don't know, Don -- Brody may have instructed Logan to stay out of there, that he can take care of the Curtises by himself. [As Bright puts the count on Owen and Eddie Curtis, Logan has finally seen enough, and enters the ring to the cheers of the crowd! Eddie turns and sees Logan enter, pointing this fact out to the referee -- and Bright immediately moves to force Logan back towards his own corner, allowing Eddie and Owen to resume their double-teaming effort on Thunder with glee! Big heel pop!] DD: Logan came in to try and help -- but he's only made matters worse! The referee is following the letter of the rulebook here, but that's no help to Brody Thunder right now! [Finally, Logan capitulates and leaves the ring, and Bright turns his attentions back to the Curtises. Eddie is rocking Thunder with forearm shot after forearm shot to the jaw, Thunder trapped in the corner by Owen Curtis. Bright lays the count down again, and now -- finally -- the Curtises are forced to end their double-teaming. Eddie Curtis puts both hands up as if to say, "What did I do?!", and allows Thunder to groggily move out of the corner. As Thunder staggers out, Eddie whips Brody across the ring with tremendous force, and Thunder hits the buckles in his own corner, inadvertently coming into contact with Logan's hand on the top rope. Bright claps his hands to signal the tag!] DD: Wait -- that wasn't a tag! Curtis just whipped Thunder into the corner, he didn't tag Logan! [Brody remonstrates weakly with the referee, who insists that he leave the ring and Logan come in. Logan motions to his father that he's ready to take on the Curtises, and Brody has no choice. As Logan moves to enter the ring, Owen Curtis claps his hands together to make it sound like he's tagged in Eddie, and enters the ring. Jim Bright turns and assumes the Curtises tagged in properly, and allows Owen to approach Logan.] DD: Owen Curtis with the phantom tag, but Bright allows it -- and now it's Owen Curtis one-on-one with Logan Thunder. [Eddie Curtis leaves the ring and Curtis approaches Logan. Curtis extends his fingers towards Logan, and Logan gingerly extends his own hands towards the "Truth" -- and as they lock fingers, Curtis immediately lashes out with a boot to Logan's midsection, doubling the rookie over! Curtis quickly hits Logan with a kneelift, snapping the youngster back to the mat, then drops onto Logan and locks in a reverse chinlock, shuffling around to face Brody across the ring, and making a point of striking Logan several times in the head with a closed fist, to draw the ire of Thunder, who tries to enter the ring, and has to be restrained by Jim Bright.] DD: This youngster has a tremendous physique, and he's certainly got every genetic advantage -- but to go up against somebody as devious and underhand as Owen Curtis in your first big match... that's tough. BS: Logan Thunder has had no time to prepare for this, Don. It's no wonder Brody was trying to protect him -- this kid may have a great amateur background, but this is a very different environment. [Curtis smirks, releases the chinlock, and allows Logan back to his feet. Logan takes a swing at Curtis, but Owen ducks out of the way, slipping behind Logan and taking him down with a single leg takedown, followed by an elbow to the small of the back. Curtis then rides Logan for good measure, being sure to lay a couple of slaps on the back of the rookie's head. Big heel pop!] DD: Curtis is sick, Billy Shakespeare. He's trying to humiliate both Logan Thunder and his father here. [Curtis allows Logan back to his feet, and then unleashes a series of brutal reverse knife-edge chops!] * SLAAAAAAAP! * "WHOOOOOOOO!" * SLAAAAAAAAAAP! * "WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" * SLAAAAAAAAAAAAP! * "WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" [Curtis has Logan backed into his corner, and he now tags in Eddie. Eddie enters the ring and together they whip Logan into the ropes, on the return felling him with a double fist shot to the head! Big heel pop! Owen leaves the ring, and then Eddie immediately makes another tag! Owen climbs back into the ring and again the Curtis brothers whip the youngster across the ring. On the return, they hit him with a double backdrop, cameras all over the arena flashing as Logan tumbles through the air, landing hard on the mat. Big heel pop!] DD: Much as I hate to say it, Billy Shakespeare, this is great tag teamwork by the Curtis brothers. BS: Making the most of that five-second switch-over period is crucial to success in a match like this, Don. If the rules give you an advantage, you'd be crazy not to press that advantage as hard as you can. [Now Eddie leaves the ring, and Curtis picks up Logan, moves to the corner, and again tags in Eddie. The Curtis brothers move to either side of Logan, and then hoist him up, dropping him to the mat with a double suplex! Big heel pop!] DD: Brody Thunder is like a caged animal out there on the apron, Billy Shakespeare, powerless to do anything except watch his son be taken apart by the ruthless Curtis brothers! [Once again, Eddie makes the tag to Owen, and Eddie whips Logan into the ropes as they prepare to take him down with a double clothesline -- but Logan ducks underneath, and on the rebound, it is Logan who floors both Curtises with a huge double clothesline of his own! Huge, huge