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                                            Thursday 22 June 2006


[As "Bodies" by Drowning Pool plays, the logo dissolves through to the
large blue RCW logo mounted on the set in the RCW studios.  The camera
pans down past the logo as the studio lights rise, revealing announcer
Don Ditka, a picture of smart-casual in his open-necked shirt and RCW
sports jacket, leaning on the front of a glass-topped desk with a large
plasma screen mounted behind it.  As the music fades, Ditka looks up
from the sheaf of papers in his hands and smiles to the camera.]

DD: Good evening, everybody, and welcome to another edition of RCW On
The Wire, the world of professional wrestling in sixty minutes!  My name
is Don Ditka, and I'm here in the nerve centre of the RCW studios to
bring you all the latest news, views, match highlights and previews from
Portland, Oregon's finest wrestling organisation.

[Ditka turns to face another camera.]

DD: With RCW's first-ever pay-per-view, Wild Summer Night, now just over
four weeks away, and with only one more live edition of RAMPAGE between
now and the big night -- Sunday, July 16th, mark it in your calendars,
folks -- things are really hotting up here in RCW.  Tonight we'll look
back at another shocking night of action in the Garden just seven days
ago, and we'll look forward to the next edition of RAMPAGE, one week
from tonight.  Let's get to it!

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[Ditka is now sat behind the glass-topped desk, the RAMPAGE logo
adorning the plasma screen behind him.]

DD: Last Thursday night's RAMPAGE was absolutely loaded from top to
bottom, with six absolute blockbuster matches -- and none more so than
the six-man tag team main event, pitting RCW Champion Johnny Pleasence
and his stooges Ryan Faith and Dave Bryant against the tremendous trio
of number one contender Paul Driscoll, submission specialist Vinny
Carmazzi, and Tennessee rookie Mark Coleman.  Let's take a look.

[Cut to footage captioned, "LAST THURSDAY" showing all six men squaring
off... Bryant hits a beautiful dropkick on Mark Coleman, sending him
down to the mat hard... Bryant tags in Pleasence... Coleman, fired up,
hauls off with a big right hand across the face of the champion!...
Coleman btosses the champion across the ring with a fierce
belly-to-belly suplex... Pleasence quickly plants Coleman with a snap
DDT!  Pleasence rolls Coleman over, then drags him back to his feet...
and immediately plants him again with a sit-out facebuster!... Coleman
tags in Carmazzi... Carmazzi is distracted by the taunts of "Golden Boy"
Nolan Dorado from the aisle, allowing Pleasence to knock him from the
ring, then leap off the apron himself with an elbow drop to the floor...
Carmazzi finally gets himself in the position to make the tag -- and
makes a point of tagging in Mark Coleman, not Paul Driscoll!...
Pleasence tags Bryant back in... Coleman reverses a whip attempt by
Bryant, and sends Bryant with tremendous force into the corner, Bryant
flipping over and ending up in the Tree of Woe!... As Coleman leaves the
ring to wrench on Bryant from the outside, Driscoll and Faith brawl in
the ring... Driscoll lifts Faith for a suplex, and puts him down on the
other side of the ropes, standing on the apron.  Driscoll gives a low
whistle to get Coleman's attention, then barrels off the ropes and
connects with a mafia kick that sends Faith flying off the apron, onto
Bryant on the outside, Coleman dodging out of the way at the last moment
due to Driscoll's warning!... Faith and Bryant bring Coleman back into
the ring... Bryant ducks under a clothesline, and is then hit from
behind by a beautiful dropkick from Faith, knocking him to his knees...
and then another dropkick, this time to the face, from Bryant!]

DD: This match lived up to its promise, as all six men had something to
prove.  RCW Champion Johnny Pleasence was even *more* aggressive than
normal, foregoing his usual stalling tactics in favour of an all-out
violence party.  Dave Bryant and Ryan Faith both wanted to show that
they are more than just Pleasence's stooges, and both men looked
impressive.  Meanwhile, Carmazzi and Coleman were both making returns
from injury, and both looked in great shape.  Carmazzi was ready for his
first-ever main event match, and Coleman came out of the blocks at a
hundred miles per hour.  And we mustn't forget the number one contender,
Paul Driscoll, who was out to prove that he can match Johnny Pleasence
every step of the way.  Coleman took a lot of punishment during the
match, including some awesome double-teaming manoeuvres from his
opponents.  But Coleman managed to turn things around in a very
surprising way...

[Faith drags Coleman back to his feet one more time, and locks him in a
standing waistlock.  Coleman struggles out, catching Faith with an
elbow, and turns on the spot, putting his hands under Faith's arms and
lifting him up -- into a crucifix position!  Then Coleman lifts him
higher, and forward, and down... as he sits down on the canvas,
*spiking* Faith down into the mat!  We hear the original commentary:]

DD: MODIFIED SOUTHERN CROSS BOMB!

"SCB! SCB! SCB! SCB!"

BS: Coleman won't have got the full impact out of that move, but what an
ingenious counter!

[Coleman keeps Faith's shoulders pinned on the mat, and Morales drops to
make the count... but Johnny Pleasence makes the save, with a stiff kick
to the back of Coleman's head!  Pleasence moves to the ropes, bounces
off them as lazily as he possibly can, and then *drops* on Coleman with
the ugliest elbowdrop you've ever seen, drawing a huge, huge jeer from
the fans...]

"JOHN-NY SUCKS! JOHN-NY SUCKS! JOHN-NY SUCKS!"

[...Matilda tosses the RCW Championship belt into the ring, and when
Coleman comes back to his feet, Pleasence is winding up behind him,
brandishing the belt.  Coleman wheels around... and takes the belt
directly to the face!  Pleasence slides the belt back to Matilda on the
outside, who cradles it lovingly in her arms, as the camera shows that
Coleman has been busted open by the belt!  Pleasence tries to pin
Coleman, but somehow he kicks out!... Pleasence hefts Coleman into the
air to try and drive him down to the mat, Coleman somehow escapes,
catching Pleasence's head in the crook of his arm and driving him down
to the mat with a modified DDT!  Huge, huge pop!]

DD: DDT!  DDT!  Coleman has put Pleasence down with a DDT!  Now make the
tag, Mark!

[Coleman crawls slowly towards his corner as the temporarily dazed
Pleasence tries to get his bearing.  Small droplets of blood fall from
Coleman's lacerated forehead as he drags himself towards his partners,
while Pleasence gets back to his knees.  Carmazzi and Driscoll yell at
Coleman to make the tag quick, before Pleasence is able to stop him... 

...Pleasence lunges at Coleman...

...Coleman lunges towards the corner...]

* SLAP! *

[Coleman tags in Driscoll!  The two men slug it out in the ring, and
then suddenly all six men are in there!]

DD: The official has lost all semblance of control now, Billy
Shakespeare!

BS: Verily, it's a pier-sixer!

[Faith clotheslines the groggy Coleman out of the ring over the ropes
and follows him to the outside, while Carmazzi hotshots Bryant on the
ropes, the Las Vegas native tumbling down to the canvas and rolling to
the outside, quickly followed by Vinny.  The four men continue to brawl
on the outside of the ring... while in the middle of the ring we see
just two men.]

DD: It's Driscoll and Pleasence!  And they are slugging it out in there!

BS: In some ways, Don, looking at each man is like looking at the other
through a mirror darkly: they are more similar than they are different. 
I think Driscoll sees a lot of himself in Johnny Pleasence, perhaps sees
an attitude, a self-belief that he once had, or wishes he had.  But I
think he also sees that Pleasence will take any shortcut to get to his
goal, and I think Pleasence deep-down admires the fact that Driscoll
needs to *earn* his success, rather than just take it.

DD: I think you're absolutely right, Billy Shakespeare.  And that's why
the match between these two men for the RCW Championship at Wild Summer
Night is so intriguing -- and perhaps why, right now, they are going
toe-to-toe, neither one of them willing to budge an inch!

BS: What it comes down to, Don, is that these two men just want to be
better than everybody else!

[Driscoll has the upper hand, forcing Pleasence back against the
ropes... but then the champion lashes out, knocking Driscoll back, and
Pleasence forces Driscoll backwards... the fans are absolutely eating it
up as champion and challenger slug it out -- and then suddenly a gold
belt is flying through the air, thrown by Matilda at ringside!]

DD: Matilda's throwing in that belt again -- and it's caught by Paul
Driscoll!  Driscoll has the belt!

[Driscoll looks at the belt in his hands, smeared with the blood of Mark
Coleman -- just as it was smeared with the blood of Orin LeBlanc two
weeks previously -- and hesitates a moment... then charges at Pleasence
with belt in hand!  Big pop -- but Pleasence ducks under the attempt,
wheels around, kicks Driscoll in the midsection, causing Driscoll to
release the belt...

...and in one fluid motion, Pleasence catches the belt, and then swipes
it upwards in a hook-like motion, catching Driscoll in the face and
knocking him backwards to the canvas!  Huge heel pop!  Official Juan
Morales throws out the match!  As Coleman and Carmazzi chase Pleasence
from the ring, cut back to Ditka in the studio.]

DD: Johnny Pleasence promised that his title reign would be soaked in
blood, folks, and he certainly delivered last Thursday night: both Mark
Coleman and "Pistol" Paul Driscoll busted open at the hands of the RCW
Champion, and that shiny gold belt has now been tarnished with the blood
of three men in practically as many weeks.  Pleasence will be back in
action next week, and on the opposite side of the ring will once again
be "Pistol" Paul Driscoll -- we'll talk about that more later on.  For
now, let's continue our RAMPAGE rewind.

[Cut to footage captioned, "LAST THURSDAY" showing Owen and Eddie Curtis
making their way to the ring, dressed as Logan and Brody Thunder
respectively... The *real* Brody and Logan Thunder charge down the aisle
and attack the Curtis brothers, rolling them into the ring to get the
match officially started... Thunder 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!...
Thunder drags Eddie to his feet, and *slams* him to the mat with a
t-bone suplex... Thunder 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.  Logan looks on, reluctant to help his father,
and then finally he does come in, but only succeeds in allowing the
Curtis brothers to continue double-teaming Brody... Eventually both
Logan and Owen Curtis are tagged in... 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 allows Logan back to his feet, and then unleashes a
series of brutal reverse knife-edge chops... The Curtis brothers then
proceed to double-team the youngster relentlessly...]

DD: We were promised a Family Feud Tag Team Match, and boy did this one
deliver in spades.  We were, uh, *treated* to a reprise of Eddie
Curtis's impersonation of Brody Thunder, this time with Owen Curtis
throwing in an impersonation of Thunder's apparent son, Logan, for good
measure -- and I say "apparent" because of the way this match unfolded. 
Brody and Logan were quick to show the Curtises that they're not to be
messed with, but Logan's inexperience showed, as he allowed the Curtises
to double-team his father, and then when he got tagged in, he took a
pretty bad beating from Owen and Eddie, to boot.

[Logan finally makes the hot tag to Brody Thunder... Thunder charges
into the ring, first sending Owen Curtis flying with a big clothesline,
and then sending Eddie flying with a belly-to-belly suplex!  All four
men are in the squared circle, fighting it out!  Brody sends Eddie for
the ride, and Logan ducks under an attempted clothesline, then as Eddie
spins around at the side of the ring, Logan hits a beautiful dropkick on
Eddie, sending him tumbling over the top rope and to the outside!  Big
pop!  Owen charges towards Brody, and Thunder is ready for him, hoisting
him up over the ropes -- but Owen lands on the apron.  Thunder wheels
around, and then sends Curtis to the floor with a big uppercut!  Huge
pop!  We hear Ditka's original commentary:]

DD: Brody Thunder and Logan Thunder now, they've knocked both Curtises
out of opposite sides of the ring -- and now... hang on -- what's Logan
doing?!

[As the two men stare down at the Curtis brothers on each side of the
ring, Logan moves his hand to his head, and... removes his dark hair,
revealing blond hair underneath!  Confused pop from the crowd!]

DD: What's this?!  Logan Thunder was wearing a *wig*?!

[As Logan turns in towards the center of the ring, he tosses the dark
wig to the canvas.  At the same moment, Brody Thunder turns back to face
his son... and is stunned by what he sees!  The crowd hushes a little as
they wait to see what is going to happen...

...then Logan steps towards Thunder, spins around, grabs Brody's head,
and yanks him down to the canvas!  Huge heel pop1]

DD: HANGMAN'S NECKBREAKER!  HANGMAN'S NECKBREAKER!  What the heck is
going on here?!

BS: Logan Thunder has just... just attacked his father!

[The fans are in uproar as Owen and Eddie Curtis slide back into the
ring under the bottom ropes and immediately start stomping away at
Thunder!  Referee Jim Bright has no choice but to signal for the bell! 
Cut back to Ditka in the studio, as the screen behind him shows the
Curtis brothers and Logan putting the beat-down on Thunder until Paul
Driscoll makes the save.]

DD: Another devious plan by the Curtis brothers saw Logan Thunder turn
on the man who we were led to believe was his father -- and thank
goodness for number one contender Paul Driscoll, coming to the aid of
the Arizona native and evening up the odds somewhat.

[The screen behind Ditka now shows a close-up of Logan Thunder removing
his dark wig to reveal his blond hair.]

DD: But who *was* Logan Thunder?  Was he really Brody Thunder's son, a
son not looking for a loving reconciliation but instead bubbling with
hatred at his father's unintentional neglect?  Was he simply a Curtis
stooge?  Certainly the fact that Logan was wearing a dark wig and has
naturally blond hair is very suspicious.  But looked at in hindsight,
poor Brody Thunder was led a merry dance by the Curtis brothers and by
Logan, whoever he is.  And neither Owen nor Eddie Curtis are ready to
show their cards just yet.  Check this out.

[Three men, all blond, are gathered around a computer. In the middle is
Eddie "Flash" Curtis, holding the mouse. On the left is Owen "Truth"
Curtis, clutching a bottle of Henry Winehard's. On the right... is Logan
Thunder. We look over their shoulders as they look at the screen, which
is on Windows Picture Viewer. No picture yet.]

OWEN "TRUTH" CURTIS: All right, Eddie. I've been waiting all week for
this.

EDDIE "FLASH" CURTIS: As well you should, my brother. As well you
should. I mean, there are those routine pictures that one gets as a
newspaper photographer. You know -- car crashes, space shuttle launches,
people making the close play at the plate, TrailBlazer games -- pretty
meaningless stuff. And then there are the MOMENTS. Images of pure
sentimental genius. Photography that captures an emotion and touches the
heart. These truly are the special compositions that combine mythos and
pathos and dare I say ethos. Pulitzer prize winning material every time.

OTC: You said it. Man, I can't wait any longer. Call 'em up.

[The images all appear in a dramatic, heavily Photoshopped style which
takes photography one step further, manipulating color and composition
to give the appearance of painting and photography combined. The first
image appears. It's the image of Brody Thunder's shocked face as he
stares at Logan Thunder, right after Logan removed his black wig on
RAMPAGE, revealing blond hair.]

OTC: Man... oh man. Doesn't that bring back memories of pure,
unadulterated joy. Don't you think, Logan?

[Logan is expressionless.]

EFC: He can't talk, Owen. Words fail him.

OTC: I know, Eddie... I know. Well, Logan, we'll get back to you in a
minute. I want to see the next image.

[Next shot. Logan holds Brody Thunder in place on RAMPAGE, as Owen slaps
Brody in the face. The beads of sweat flying from Brody's red face are
frozen in midair, captured in stasis by the magic of flash photography.]

OTC: Wow. You outdid yourself there, Eddie. That's incredible.

EFC: It was you who made it possible.

OTC: Wrong. It was Logan here who made it possible. Right? Next image.

[Next shot. Owen is holding the Lone Wolf in place as Eddie's right shoe
makes painful contact with Thunder's groin.]

OTC: [imitating Don Ditka] F-STOP! F-STOP! Eddie Curtis's signature
maneuver! And Brody Thunder has to be in agonizing pain!

EFC: God I love the name of that move. F-Stop. You see, it's a
photography term, but it also refers to how "little Brody" won't be fit
for "action" anytime soon! He'll be off ring rats for at least a week!

OTC: You were just doing your part to keep him from fathering any more
bastard kids like Logan here. No offense, Logan.

EFC: It won't stop him from kissing up to Spreadbury, though.

OTC: You said it.

[Next image. Owen's face is right side up. Brody's face is upside down.
That's because Owen is about to give Brody the Obituary.]

OTC: Agony and triumph. That's all I have to say. Triumph for us --
agony for him. And a well-deserved agony it is.

EFC: Brody Thunder NEVER should have come into your house, Owen. He
should NEVER have come to Portland. It isn't his town anymore. It's
yours. You're the only one with the attitude to dominate and the skills
to back it up. No Lone Wolf can survive when he's attacked by a pack
like ours. I don't care who it is. The strong survive, and we are the
strong.

OTC: Well, that's why Logan here joined us. He knows Brody may have been
great, but the Curtis Brothers are the future. You simply can't get
around the Truth. You have to confront it, face to face. You don't
change it, you just accept it. And the Truth is that we are almost done
with this guy. Just one more tag match, then the final showdown. One on
one.

EFC: I wish I could be there for that tag match, Owen... and you know
what? I'm going to be. Dan Spreadbury can't stop me. He can't punish me
for what I did last week because it was a sanctioned match! He can
refuse to book me, but he HAS to let me in! I have a press pass! That's
the beauty of being in the press!

OTC: What about you, Logan? Are you coming next week to watch me beat up
on Thunder and Driscoll? I"d take you on as a partner, but Spreadbury
said it had to be that scouse git Pleasence. Who the heck does Danny boy
think he's messing with, anyway?

EFC: You gonna call Pleasence up so the two of you can strategize?

[The comment registers, then Owen nearly spits out his beer.]

OTC: Oh, yes, Eddie. I'm going to call him and we're going to have a
real chalkboard session. We're going to map out the first 10 moves of
the match and work together as a team! We're going to practice double
team moves together, even! And afterwards we'll go out for tea and bring
our girlfriends!

[Eddie laughs. Logan even cracks a smile.]

OTC: OF COURSE NOT! Why not? Because we don't need to! And I don't have
a damn thing to say to that chain-smoking chode anyway! Look, Johnny
Pleasence can bite my ass. You know that, I know that -- HE knows that.
He's stupid, but he's not THAT stupid. But if he wants to win this
match, and inflict maximum damage on that drugstore cowboy Driscoll,
which he does, then he's going to stay out of my way. And if he does,
I'll stay out of his, just for this one night, and we'll be victorious.
Make sense?

EFC: I can't argue with it.

OTC: Course not, 'cause it's the Truth. One more shot.

[It appears. Logan and Brody Thunder are back to back, as Logan is in
the midst of delivering a hangman's neckbreaker to Brody.]

OTC: Ah yes. The moment that made it all possible. Logan giving his
father what he so richly deserved.

EFC: I got a name for it.

OTC: A name? You mean we're going to name Logan's signature maneuver?

EFC: Why not? I think we should call it... the Masthead.

OTC: The Masthead... Hmmm ... I like it! I like it a lot! What about
you, Logan?

[Logan Thunder is slient.]

EFC: He's still speechless.

OTC: Can't blame him -- I would be too. Guess he won't be telling folks
why he turned on his father, either.

EFC: Not tonight, at least. I'm not sure folks want to know anyway. I
mean, it's obvious why he did that. Right?

[Logan is still silent. He begins to open his mouth... but nothing.]

OTC: Well, I think so. But there are a few things he's not telling
anyone.

EFC: True. [Changing the subject] So... you think it's all right that I
made posters of all these shots and had them delivered to Tamara
Thunder's house?

OTC: Eddie... You didn't ask me before doing that.

EFC: I think it'll make her happy.

OTC: I think... hey. I'm in the mood for pizza. You want pizza, Logan?

[Logan nods.]

OTC: Let's order it. You know what I like, Ed.

[Their voices fade as they all walk away from the computer. The camera
slowly zooms in on the shot of Brody being taken down by Logan Thunder
with the hangman's neckbreaker -- now known as the Masthead.]

EFC: Man... I would just LOVE to see Tamara's expression as she opens up
these shots!

OTC: That could be arranged, though, couldn't it?

[Pause. Then Owen and Eddie burst out laughing.]

OTC: I kill me. We should do it though. Another trip to Arizona!

EFC: [imitating the Southwest Airlines commercial] Ding! You are now
free to move about the country!

[They laugh more -- but by now, they are too far away to hear clearly.
The camera has zoomed all the way in on Brody and Logan's faces, back to
back, as Logan executes the neckbreaker on his dad. We focus there,
and... fade to black.  Cut back to Ditka in the studio.]

DD: This coming week on RAMPAGE, Brody Thunder will have a tag team
partner he will be hoping he can trust more than his "son" Logan --
he'll partner up with "Pistol" Paul Driscoll to face Owen "Truth" Curtis
and the RCW Champion, Johnny Pleasence, as you've just heard.  What a
match *that's* going to be!  But more on that later on tonight.

[Cut to footage captioned, "LAST THURSDAY" showing Liam Cassidy drinking
and having a good time with his friends in the Hobo Section... Lord
Byron makes his entrance, jawing with Cassidy as he arrives... Byron
squares off against "Showtime" Rick Marley in the ring as Cassidy makes
his way down to ringside to join Ditka and Shakespeare for commentary
duties... Byron and Marley trade holds in the early going, feeling each
other out, the two men showing each other a modicum of respect... Byron
sends Marley for the ride, and the cruiserweight comes back with a
tremendous dropkick, knocking Byron down... 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... Byron
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!... As Byron stands over him, Marley drives a forearm up
between the blueblood's legs!  Marley hops up and puts his leg over
Byron's head, then *drives* him down to the canvas with a modified DDT.]

DD: Fans in the Rose Garden were given an absolute treat when one of the
greatest technicians of all-time, aristocratic blue-blood Lord Byron,
faced off against the exciting "Showtime" Rick Marley.  This match had
everything: thrills, spills -- mostly in the form of Liam Cassidy's
brown-bag liquor, true -- technical exchanges, high-flying moves... it
was a truly excellent encounter.  And Marley looked to have the measure
of Byron, until...

[Cut to footage showing Byron dragging Marley to his feet again and
whipping 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!  We hear the original
commentary, from Ditka, Shakespeare and Liam Cassidy:]

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!  Cut back to Ditka in the studio.]

DD: The Aristoclutch proved to be too much for Rick Marley, and
"Showtime" was forced to submit.  But what a tremendous showing from
this young man, who went toe-to-toe with one of this sport's true
greats.  However, Byron is as gracious in victory as he is in defeat --
and the arrogant aristocrat had a strong message for Liam Cassidy, whose
right hand, injured by Byron two weeks previously, was still bandaged
up.  Byron goaded and goaded Cassidy into taking a shot at him -- and
then Byron pounced.

[Byron and Cassidy get into it at the broadcast table, Byron wrenching
on Cassidy's injured right hand, a sadistic smile on his face.  Byron
drives his point home -- clocking Cassidy with his free hand, causing
The Jersey Drifter to stumble over and fall to the floor.  As Bryon
makes his way back up the aisle, Liam slowly composes himself enough to
get up.  Wincing, it's clear that he's in tremendous pain.  We hear the
original commentary:]

BS: You know something, Liam, I hate seeing Byron do this to you.  But
you're 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 Byron's 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 isn't 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 ain't got much to offer, but I'll
pay ya if that's 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, you're on.  We've got five weeks to get you ready.  I'll
see you tomorrow.

[The entire Rose Garden cheers now.  Cassidy smiles and nods at his new
teacher.  Liam climbs back over the retaining barrier, returning to his
spot amongst the Hobo Section.  Cut back to Ditka in the studio.]

DD: So Liam Cassidy has himself a new coach -- and he couldn't ask for a
better, more qualified man than my broadcast colleague "Spotlight" Billy
Shakespeare.  But Lord Byron doesn't seem in the least bit worried -- as
we will see.

[We cut from the studio to footage of the interior of a high-tech, empty
gymnasium.  Fixed weight machines, exercise bikes, rowing machines...
it's the Rose Garden's training facilities.  It's after hours.  It's
dark... and there's just one man left.  Sat on a bench, a pair of large
dumbbells at his feet, a towel draped over his head.  The camera closes
in as the athlete in question rips off his weightlifting gloves, and
snaps his head up to regard the camera with a cold gaze...]

B: All my life, I've trained for one thing.  Just one thing.  To be the
very best at what I do.

[Lord Byron flicks his head back, shrugging the towel back onto his
shoulders.  He pulls his loose, damp hair back, tying it into its usual
ponytail, his eyes fixed on the camera..]

B: Judo, Aikido, Greco-Roman, Freestyle, mixed martial arts... I've been
involved in them all.  I took the best each discipline had to offer, and
added it to my own game.  I fought my way through the amateur ranks,
picking my opponents for their skill and ability.  I battled through a
hostile environment in the Far East, learning from each opponent I
faced, from each style I encountered.  And then I arrived here. 
Portland.. I took on the biggest names, the most intense competition the
world had to offer, and I came out on top.  It took fifteen years to get
there, but by God, when I arrived, the whole damn industry sat up and
took notice.

[A series of quick, grainy, black-and-white clips play, showing a
younger Byron in a IIWF ring -- snapping Marty Warnett to the canvas...
trading holds with Chris Quigley... going toe-to-toe with a berserk
Creed... and raising the IIWF Intercontinental title in the air.  We cut
back to Byron, who wipes his face with the towel, then glares back up
into the camera.]

B: "The best technical wrestler of all time."  Not an idle boast, and
not just my words, either.  Rather, the reputation of a man who has
dedicated his entire existence to the perfection of his sport -- a
reputation gained through talent, hard work and mercilessly breaking my
opposition down.  Few have challenged my ability.  Even less managed to
overcome it in the ring.  But all learnt to respect it -- and fear it.

[Another clip overplays Byron, showing the blueblood in a practice ring,
walking slowly around a junior opponent as a clutch of young trainees
look on.  The youngster in wrestling trunks, Byron in black tracksuit
bottoms and a British Olympic Committee polo shirt.  The kid reaches out
to grapple with Byron, who swats his hand away contemptuously,
sidestepping the lunge neatly.  The youngster steps in again, and Byron
instantly locks him into a front facelock, bringing his weight to bear
and driving the trainee to the canvas... who promptly, frantically taps
out.]

B: [voice over] And for the last five years I've been involved in the
background of this sport, sat on the sidelines, coaching a new
generation of European wrestlers, giving back to the sport the knowledge
I've acquired.  And just as my protégés learnt from me -- so I learnt
from them.

[The footage continues -- Byron lets the kid back up, a glare on his
face as he yells at him to get back up.  The trainee rises, and Byron
indicates for him to attack again.  As he steps forward, instantly,
aggressively, Byron takes him down with another facelock.  A few of the
other trainees look away.]

B: [voice over] My most important lesson:  You can dress *BLEEP* up all
you want.  Teach it, train it, guide it, help it... but at the end of
the day, when it's all said and done, all you're left with is *BLEEP*.

[Facelock takedown.  Again.  And again.  Byron lets the exhausted kid
back up... and knocks him straight back down with a slap to the face. 
Byron glowers down at the kid, motioning behind him with his thumb: 
Take a hike.  The junior stumbles up to his feet, his shoulders slumped,
and climbs out of the ring.  Byron turns to the rest of the assembled
trainees, who are shifting uncomfortably on the ring apron.  He glares
at each of them in turn, catching their attention... and we hear Byron
addressing his students...]

B: [in the footage] Don't EVER hold back on me like that punk.  If you
want to make it to the top, you give me EVERYTHING, every time.  I've
said it before -- the end always justifies the means.  To overcome an
obstacle... you break it.

[A murmur of agreement from the assembled team.  Repeated loudly after
another glare from the aristocrat.  We cut back to Byron in the gym, who
stands up, throwing the towel over his shoulder.]

B: Fifteen years to reach my peak in this sport.  Another five as a
coach myself.  Liam Cassidy... just what do you think Billy Shakespeare
can teach you in five weeks that can help you at Wild Summer Night?  Do
you really think he can give you what it takes to compete with me?  On
MY terms?

[Byron snorts in disdain, and flashes a look of contempt at the camera.]

B: You'll be lucky if he can teach you to survive.

[Byron wipes his hands off on the towel, and with a final glare at the
camera, strides for the exit... Fade to commercials.]




[Fade back from commercials to footage captioned, "LAST THURSDAY"
showing Akitoshi Ogawa and manager Zeke Brackett on their way to the
ring... out comes Madrock the Irrepressible, a picture of rage and fury
as he storms down the aisle... and the two men immediately start
slugging it out 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!  Ogawa jams a thumb into one of Madrock's eyes, and
slows the Australian down with a body scissors... Madrock powers out! 
Ogawa charges at Madrock -- and hits an immovable object, unable to
knock Madrock down!... 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!  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!]

DD: You want to talk about a match pitting two mountains of men against
one another -- that's exactly what we had in the Garden last week when
Madrock the Irrepressible faced former King of the Death Match Akitoshi
Ogawa in what was a tremendous, high-impact, high-tempo match for these
two big men.  Ogawa was, as ever, cold, calculating and very dangerous
-- and Madrock was absolutely on fire, incensed after the attack he
sustained at the hands of "Your Hero" Danny Daniels two weeks
previously.  Madrock was out to send a message to his nemesis in this
match -- and things very quickly got very ugly.

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 has Ogawa in the Giant Swing, turning and turning, faster and
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 goes to the ropes and then comes back with a senton splash on
Ogawa, then goes for the cover, but Ogawa kicks out, and rolls out of
the ring... Ogawa immediately goes to the corner and grabs the top half
of the ringsteps, tossing them into the ring... 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.  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!  Freeze on a shot of Madrock's face, masked in blood
from a wide cut at his hairline, and cut back to Ditka in the studio.]

DD: These two men literally threw everything but the kitchen sink at one
another, and although the match ended in a double disqualification,
neither man came out unscathed: as you can see, Madrock sustained a
nasty laceration from that steel chair shot, and Ogawa found himself
Coming Down Abbott's Peak.  Furthermore, once Ogawa made his way back to
the locker room, he immediately got into a confrontation with Wild
Summer Night opponent Mark Coleman, which culminated with Coleman
slapping the Tennessee Valley Lock on Ogawa.

[Cut to a brief snippet of footage captioned, "LAST THURSDAY."  Coleman
and Ogawa are brawling backstage, and Coleman locks in 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: Finally Mark Coleman was able to exact some measure of revenge on
Ogawa, but RCW President Daniel Spreadbury wasn't at all pleased,
ejecting Ogawa and Brackett from the Rose Garden -- and he would have
done the same to Coleman had Coleman not been scheduled to wrestle in
the night's main event.  Of course, this coming Thursday Ogawa and
Coleman will find themselves as partners in a very unique tag team match
-- but we'll talk more about that later.  Meanwhile, Madrock's nemesis
"Your Hero" Danny Daniels had a *big* challenge of his own to contend
with -- a match with the Intelligent Thug, Derek Rage.

[Cut to footage captioned "LAST THURSDAY" showing Derek Rage and "Your
Hero" Danny Daniels -- Daniels's right arm entombed in a plaster cast --
squaring off... Rage drags Daniels back to his feet, spins him around,
then drops him backwards with a belly-to-back suplex... Daniels rolls
out of the ring, Rage follows and goes to jump down from the apron...
only to be met by a shot from Daniels's cast to Rage's stomach!...
Daniels capitalises, hitting a swinging neckbreaker on the big man,
taking him down to the arena floor!  Daniels rolls back into the ring,
and as Rage follows him in, Daniels stomps away on the big man... 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... Daniels applies a figure four leglock, but Rage is so tall that
he can easily reach the ropes, forcing Daniels to relinquish his hold...
Rage whips Daniels into the ropes and hits him with a backdrop driver...
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!]

DD: Danny Daniels continues to show that, underneath his goofy exterior,
beats the heart of a decent wrestler.  He had a game plan for this
match, trying to chop Rage down to size and focus on the big man's legs,
which was pretty successful -- but Rage's size is a difficult advantage
to neutralise, and the Intelligent Thug was generally able to get
himself out of trouble.  Business was about to pick up for Danny
Daniels, however, when a blood-soaked, incensed Madrock the
Irrepressible stormed down to the ring.

[A spotlight picks out a frightening figure stomping out into the aisle,
as we hear the original commentary:]

DD: IT'S MADROCK!  MADROCK IS COMING OUT HERE!

BS: And look at the *state* of him!

[Swatting aside a 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 two weeks ago!

[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!

[Cut back to Ditka in the studio.]

DD: Poor Danny Daniels was unfortunate to come out of that match with
the loser's share of the purse money, but it just goes to show that with
a man as big and powerful as Derek Rage, all it takes is just one move
to put you down for the one, two, three.  As for Daniels and Madrock,
their date at Wild Summer Night draws ever nearer -- and this coming
Thursday they'll be on opposite sides of the ring in our tag-team
special edition of RAMPAGE.  We'll talk more about that, and about the
rest of last week's action, when we come back.

[Fade to commercials.]




[Fade back from commercials to footage captioned, "LAST THURSDAY," with
Ditka providing the voice-over... Christian Right makes his way to the
ring, and removes the cross he stole from David Cross from around his
neck, holding it aloft, to a big heel pop... Nathan Herod swats Right
down to the mat with a huge bicep... Herod tries to drop an elbow on
Right, but Christian rolls out of the way, and Christian hits him with a
chop to the throat, then drops Herod with a DDT!... Herod traps both of
Right's arms, and then hits him full force with a headbutt!... Herod
hits him with a second headbutt, this time releasing Right's arms. 
Right crashes to the mat... Herod moves to the corner and climbs up to
the second turnbuckle, then launches himself with a diving headbutt off
the second rope!... Right traps Herod in a sleeper hold, and Herod
panics, his big arms flailing around, and Herod clocks official Pat
Nickrick, knocking him out...]

DD: After Nathan Herod interjected himself in a match between Christian
Right and David Cross two weeks earlier, Right -- wearing the silver
cross he took as a trophy from Cross in their match -- and Herod squared
off in the night's opening match.  Right showed no fear in facing the
larger, stronger Herod, but Herod showed that he has real potential,
hitting Right with all sorts of high-impact offence.  However, the real
turning point in the match came when Right trapped Herod in a sleeper
hold, exposing the big weakness of the rookie from Alabama, which is
that he lacks even the most basic grounding in technical wrestling, and
a simple hold like a sleeper sends him into a blind panic.  Last week,
official Pat Nickrick was unfortunate enough to get in the way of
Herod's panicked flailing -- and that's when David Cross made his move.

[The footage shows the giant from Corry, Pennsylvania run 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!  We
hear Ditka and Shakespeare's original commentary:]

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.  Cut back to Ditka in the studio.]

DD: After those devastating powerbombs, neither Christian Right nor
Nathan Herod was able to answer the count, and the match ended with both
men counted out by the official.  In just over four weeks at Wild Summer
Night, it's still set to be Christian Right vs. David Cross -- but I've
heard that Herod's manager, Mick Silvestri, is lobbying the RCW
President even as we speak to get Herod into that match... and we'll
hear more about that next week on RAMPAGE!

   ___  ______      __
  / _ \/ ___/ | /| / /
 / , _/ /__ | |/ |/ /  >< >< >< >< >< RAMPAGE RUNDOWN >< >< >< >< ><
/_/|_|\___/ |__/|__/


[The screen behind Ditka now shows the RAMPAGE logo, together with the
Ticketmaster logo and the phone number of the Rose Garden box office.]

DD: So, folks, one week from tonight, live at 10pm on KPDX-49 comes
another explosive hour of wrestling action, as RAMPAGE comes at you once
again.  You can be a part of it, live and in living colour, by clicking
onto www.ticketmaster.com or getting down to the Rose Garden box office
in person -- but be quick!  Only a few tickets remain for this great
event, and once you see what matches are scheduled for this show, you'll
understand why.

[The screen behind Ditka shows the faces of Johnny Pleasence and Owen
"Truth" Curtis on one side, and "Pistol" Paul Driscoll and "Lone Wolf"
Brody Thunder on the other.]

DD: It's the last RAMPAGE before Wild Summer Night, and RCW President
Daniel Spreadbury has loaded the card with tag team matches, in which
many of the men who will face each other across the ring at Wild Summer
Night will meet next week, too.  Take this match: the men involved in
the two main events at Wild Summer Night brought together in this
intriguing match.  We know about the issues between Owen "Truth" Curtis
and "Lone Wolf" Brody Thunder, who will meet at Wild Summer Night in an
unsanctioned Lights Out match.  We know about the issues between RCW
Champion Johnny Pleasence and number one contender "Pistol" Paul
Driscoll, who will meet for the title in the main event at Wild Summer
Night.  But how about this: who did Johnny Pleasence defeat in the Road
To The Gold tournament final to win the RCW Championship?  Owen Curtis! 
So don't expect Curtis and Pleasence to be a well-oiled machine next
Thursday night.  Let's hear from the champ right now.

[Cut to a simple shot, namely the Big Bad and RCW Champion himself,
Johnny Pleasence, as he stands in front of a black "RAMPAGE" backdrop. 
Clad in a black t-shirt, black jeans, and the RCW World Title over his
shoulder, the self-proclaimed Lord of Darkness taps out a Camel Turkish
Gold and lights it, taking a drag before he speaks...]

JP: Bloody hell... so this is where we're at, huh?  Getting shoehorned
into other people's bloody problems, are we?

[Pleasence sighs.]

JP: Okay then... where to begin?  First off, I'm saddled with Owen
Curtis -- you know, the same git I beat to win this belt.  Granted, the
sod probably doesn't care for me too much, but that's life.

'sides, I'm more concerned with what's across the ring from us.

Driscoll and Thunder... a hack and half looking for just a bit of glory
in order to stay relevant... which is why this match is much bigger than
whatever problems me and Owen Curtis might have with each other.

[Pleasence spits.]

JP: That freakin' lit'le ponce probably has more problems with me than
he'd care to admit, but he's gonna have to put it all aside if he wants
to get through Rampage in one piece.  Face it, children... in Thunder's
quest for "modern legitimacy" and Driscoll's ever-present need to be
remembered three shows for now, those two gits are probably ready to do
whatever it takes to destroy the Big Bad and leave The Truth laying in a
pile of his own puke and blood.

And, as much at it pains me to say it?

_Not on my watch_.

[Pleasence chuckles.]

JP: There's a certain stigma about bein' a champion for me -- I want
this belt to be put on top of a soddin' pedestal.  Have I had that
opportunity?  Not really, and the fact that I haven't really pisses me
off.  Been misunderstood about that, but whatever.  Some folks in this
business just don't get it, which made me even more angry...

But now?

I have my shot to *prove* that I am a champion... by any means
necessary, of course, but in the end?

I'm still a champion through and through.

Thunder and Driscoll... hell, they're not ready for the Big Bad... and
if Driscoll thinks he can just soften me up for his title match, then
he's got the wrong idea.

The Big Bad has other plans, you see.

[Pleasence takes a drag off his cigarette.]

JP: Folks have been looking at things all wrong -- a man can't just lay
everything he's gonna do out on the table for the masses to pick at, you
know?  What I plan to do in RCW will be legendary, and Paul Driscoll's
got no idea whatsoever as to how far I'm goin' to go to see my title
reign continue.  The blood I've spilled is only the tip of the
iceberg... there are bones to be broken, after all.

[Pleasence grins.]

JP: You've heard it all before, children...

I will *not* be stopped.

I will *not* be denied.

And most importantly?

I speak the *truth*.

It's far from over, Rip City... and, as a matter of fact?

This is just the *beginning*.

[Pleasence flicks his cigarette at the camera as we fade to black.] 

DD: Johnny Pleasence sounds like he's ready to go it alone in this
match, regardless of what his partner-of-necessity Owen Curtis thinks. 
It may be a different story for Driscoll and Thunder, however: these two
men have crossed paths before, and perhaps they'll make an excellent
partnership.  I had the opportunity to put this to the number one
contender in person.

[Cut to footage captioned "EARLIER THIS WEEK", showing a hotel balcony
setting overlooking a pool, with Don Ditka and Paul Driscoll sitting on
either side of a glass table. Ditka is dressed casually in a pair of
khaki slacks and a white RCW pullover. Driscoll wears cut off blue jean
shorts and a grey Lone Star Bar t-shirt, with a half filled glass in
front of him.]

DD: First of all, thanks for granting the RCW audience this time to
speak with you, Paul, as you are less than one month away from your
title match with Johnny Pleasence at Wild Summer Night.

PD: Sure thing, Don. Figgered it was 'bout time that I talked to the
people without havin' fifty friggin people breathin' down my neck.

DD: You seem a lot more relaxed today than normal, I must admit.

PD: Yeah, good ol' Uncle Dan opened up his pocketbook and sprung fer a
half-decent hotel.

[Driscoll turns his head and looks into the camera, and gives a thumbs
up.]

PD: Way to go Dan, you'll run a decent wrestling company yet, I swear
it.

[Ditka stifles a slight chuckle and then grabs a clipboard off the
table, tapping it with a pencil as he speaks.]

DD: The road to Wild Summer Night has been an interesting one for you.
After winning the title shot, you were silent for a few weeks, and your
path only slightly crossed with the champion, Johnny Pleasence. Many
people inside the organization and outside of it speculated that the you
guys were being overshadowed by Brody Thunder and Owen Curtis.

Has your title chase been overshadowed?

PD: I been around this business fer a long time, Don, an' it don't take
no rocket scientist to tell that Rip City Wrestling went through some
turbulence in the beginnin'. They was some rough patches an' there still
is. RCW ain't perfect, far from it.

But it's startin' to take shape an' find it's stride. The same as I
needed to. Tell the truth, the title match prob'ly is overshadowed by
Thunder an' Curtis, an' it don't feel good. I didn't come to Portland to
be no second banana to Thunder an' that no-account Curtis.

DD: What *did* you come to RCW for?

PD: To be my own man. To get outta this shadow o' bein' a Driscoll. I
love m'family to death, but this goddamn name has been the curse o' me,
I swear it. 'cause I'm George's son an' Johnny's little brother, it's
like I ain't never had the chance to build my own identity. So when I
got a fax 'bout RCW, hell yeah I jumped at the chance. I packed my junk
an' made it up here in three days flat.

But the nex' thing I know, I see Vinny Carmazzi walkin' 'round like he
ain't who I know he is, Brody flamin' Thunder shows up, an' I says to
myself, "God-damn, I can't get outta Texas."

An' somewhere 'long the way, I fergot why Spreadbury offered me a
contract in the first place. See, ever'thing gots to be black an' white
up here, but I ain't never slapped a hand a day in my life. The fans
paid their money to boo or cheer fer whoever they want, so I ain't gonna
try to influence 'em one way or 'nother. If they like me they like me,
if not, well hell, that don't bother me none either. An' maybe the
reason people're thinkin' this title bout is bein' overlooked is because
it ain't good versus evil. It ain't Luke Skywalker versus Darth Vader.

It's a cheatin', corner cuttin' son of a bitch versus a guy who used to
be a cheatin', corner cuttin' son of a bitch. I dropped the cheatin' an'
corner cuttin', now I'm just a plain ol' son of a bitch. An' let me tell
ya one thing 'bout Johnny Pleasence. I made the mistake o' thinkin' 'at
he stole that title an' don't deserve it. I got caught up in 'is schtick
an' he played me like a fiddle. I seen a guy walkin' 'round with some
whore, smokin' cigarettes an' talkin' out his ass, we all did. An' that
blinded all o' us from the fact 'at he can throw down with the best o'
'em.

Johnny Pleasence had us all fooled, Don. An' it took one hell o' a brawl
last week an' a up close encounter with 'at belt o' his fer everyone to
see that he's more'n just some punk with a bad attitude. He can go.

[Driscoll pauses for a moment to sip from the glass on the table, as Don
Ditka stops tapping his pencil.]

DD: Those are almost glowing remarks about a man who has gotten the
better of you on a few occasions, and holds the title that you have said
more than once validates your wrestling career.

[The #1 contender offers a shark's grin to that comment, and puts the
glass down.]

PD: If I didn't have to kill 'im, I might have no problem with
Pleasence. The fact is that I ain't real fond o' him personally, 'cause
he is somethin' that I used to be. Orchestratin' his people around him,
takin' the easy road. An' yeah, he's 'bout as friendly as a cactus. But
in that ring, I know he ain't nothin' to take lightly. That's all I'm
sayin'. He wants to be the man, just like I do. An' at Wild Summer
Night, I don't expect nothin' less than ever'thing in his bag o' tricks
and then some. But he better know by now that at Wild Summer Night, that
match ain't ending till one o' us ain't movin' anymore.

[Ditka lifts an eyebrow, as Driscoll has suddenly shed the relaxed
composure and is now sweating profusely, worked up and intense.]

DD: This coming RAMPAGE, you'll be across the ring from Johnny Pleasence
and Owen Curtis, with Brody Thunder as your tag team partner. What will
that be like for you?

PD: Bein' from Texas an' them parts, the name Brody Thunder is revered.
Ya almost gotta genuflect when ya say his name. Like anyone, I know what
he's done in this sport an' unlike most, I seen him before he was "Brody
Thunder". He did pass through El Paso Pro once or twice, an' I'm sure he
remembers my ol' man an' maybe my brother. I mighta said hello to 'im
once or twice, or brushed by him inna hall.

I don't know the man, but I know his reputation. We both got a common
enemy on RAMPAGE, so I don't see any problems occurin'.

DD: But as a fan, this must be a thrill for you. Brody Thunder has
passed the test of time in wrestling, he's managed to cultivate a legacy
and then keep it intact. As someone who grew up in the business, you
know better than most how impressive that is.

PD: As a fan, hell yeah, part o' me wants to ask fer an autograph an'
call all my friends. But here's a little piece o' information that
certain members o' the RCW roster would do well to r'member: ya gotta
leave the fanboy junk where it b'longs, at home. This is a sport but
it's also a business. I pay my bills doin' this, same as Brody's said
fer a billion years. This is how we put food on our table. An' flashin'
back to when you was fifteen an' swoonin' over Brody Thunder sure as
hell ain't gonna do me or anyone else any good. The man ain't passin'
out hunnert dollar bills, Ditka, he's passin' out ass-kickings so that
*he* can make them hunnert dollar bills.

Sure, it'll be a thrill. But when the bell rings, the thrill is gone an'
it's time to go to work.

DD: What exactly is your history with Vinny Carmazzi?

[At the mere mention of Carmazzi, Driscoll growls an epithet and sits
back in his chair, perturbed.]

DD: See, there you go. You two nearly came to blows *before* your match
on RAMPAGE, and if it weren't for Mark Coleman you two probably wouldn't
have made it to the match at all.

PD: Well, b'fore I get to Carmazzi, lemme just say 'at Mark Coleman's a
good kid, I like 'em an' he's someone I'd gladly help in any situation.
But he came real close to bein' talked about in the past tense on
RAMPAGE, 'cause he was in the middle o' a standoff.

But as fer me an' Carmazzi, this is how it is: I knowed him in Florida,
probably six or eight years ago. He wasn't much more than a skinny punk
who couldn't wrestle his way out o' a paper bag. I just got outta the
service an' was sent to Florida to sharpen myself up, an' I happened to
knock 'im fer a loop. I think he got a concussion from me, or somethin'
along 'em lines. Not on purpose, mind you, but that's the risk ya take
when ya lace 'em up.

Long story short, when I seen him up here I 'mediately thought o' him as
that same kid from Florida. But somewhere 'long the way, he got hisself
an attitude, an' he's tryin' to make everyone, hisself included, ferget
the first part o' his career. An' that's fine, I got no problem with
'at. But once he started cockin' off to me like he was somebody special,
it jus' rubbed me the wrong way. It pisses 'im off that I know who he
is, Don. I knowed 'im when he wasn't nothin' but a backwards ass kid who
took beatin's fer a living. Long 'fore he was this supposed master
submission guy, long before he earned a goddamn _dime_ in this business,
an' ever'time I look at 'im I see that same kid, no matter how much ya
talk him up. He's got a wild hair up his ass because of it Don, but
here's one lesson he never learned: you gotta earn every ounce o'
respect ya ever get. Nothin's handed to ya fer kickboxing against a
concrete wall, that don't earn ya s[BLEEP!]. If he wants my respect, if
he wants me to stop treating him like that little kid, he's gotta earn
it.

I don't like Johnny Pleasence one stinkin' bit, but I respect 'im in the
ring. He cracked my head open, Ditka, you can see the cut...

[The camera zooms in to a red welt on Driscoll's head, with stitches
over top of it.]

PD: He made me give 'im respect. Vinny Carmazzi has not, an' he never
will.

DD: Funny that you brought up Johnny Pleasence again, Paul. I do believe
our alloted time is running out, so I'll let you wrap this interview up
however you want. Wild Summer Night is quickly approaching and your date
with destiny comes with it. Any final thoughts on that, as the days
dwindle?

[Ditka sets the clipboard down and listens as Driscoll contemplates for
a moment, measuring his words.]

PD: The time fer talkin' is all but over, Ace. It's time to get to it.
An' fer all the nice things I said about Pleasence, the one thing I
didn't say is that he got it in his body an' in his soul to put me down
fer the three. I been through torn ligaments, concussions and goddamn
gunshot wounds, I survived 'em *all*. When the End Time comes, it's
gonna be the cockroaches, twinkies and me.

That title's got my name all over it, it's what gets me out of bed in
the mornin'. An' by God, if Johnny Pleasence thinks anything less than
the 55th Airborne is gonna keep me from running him over an' claimin'
that title as my own, he's in fer some hard times at Wild Summer Night.
An' like I said before... I ain't gonna feel too bad 'bout kickin' his
head in to win the title, but I'd hate to be the reason fer my own hard
times.

So yer gonna hafta do, Johnny Pleasence, an' it's been a long time
comin'.

[Cut back to the studio.  The screen behind Ditka now shows the caption
"STRANGE BEDFELLOWS!".  On one side we see the faces of Nolan Dorado,
Orin LeBlanc and Vinny Carmazzi, and on the other, Mark Coleman and
Akitoshi Ogawa.]

DD: The front office were clearly feeling mischievous when they set up
*this* little match: the first-ever Strange Bedfellows Handicap Tag-Team
Match!  The three men who will do battle against one another in the No
Escape Cage Match at Wild Summer Night -- Dorado, LeBlanc and Carmazzi
-- will face off against *two* men who will also be squaring off at the
pay-per-view, Mark Coleman and Akitoshi Ogawa.  With all the bad blood
between *all* of the men in this match, it's hard to see how either team
will be able to get along.  But maybe they'll surprise us -- it's
another reason to be sure you tune in to RAMPAGE next Thursday night! 
Let's hear from the men in this match, beginning with Orin "The Lynx"
LeBlanc.

[Fade in on a man at a payphone.  Said man is Orin "the Lynx" LeBlanc
and to say he looks annoyed would be an understatement.]

OL: ...just 'cause The Man Upstairs wants it don't mean I have to like
it, know what I mean?

[LeBlanc finally spots the camera.  He rolls his eyes towards it but
covers the mouthpiece of the phone.]

OL: My sister.  [back to the phone]  Hell it'd be one thing if we got
Coleman an' Mister So-Called "Lord o' the Deathmatch" got Goldenrod
instead. [pause]  No, don't get me started on that either... Zeke
Whatsihoozit is just Wateredown version point two in my book. 
"Handicap", my ass.  Not with him around.  An' ten to one odds Dorado
don't bother to show up or just plain bails again.

[He taps the side of the wall, listening and nodding.]

OL: Eh, Carmazzi... he's, uh... well, hungry's the best I can reckon. 
Haven't had a chance to talk to him yet, really.  Damn press conference
an' everythin'...

[Orin shakes his head, frowning.]

OL: Nikki, I ain't backed down from a damn thing in my life.  Not gonna
start now.  Not for Carmazzi an' not for Dorado.  My claim's just as
valid as anyone's on that punk.  [pause]  "Will it affect this match?" 
Oh, probably...

[The Lynx smirks.]

OL: ...thing is, one thing I've seen from Vinny, he gets the job done at
least.  Said he was hungry an' I meant it.  Drive, you know?  An' a man
like him ain't a bad one in your corner against someone like Ogawa.
'Sides... [The smirk gets bigger] ...if Dorado thinks about doin'
anything stupid -- well, stupider than usual -- I think me an' Vinny
might be able to actually agree on a quick game o' tug o' war for once
before the pay per view.

[He starts to chuckle, then stops.  Again, he rolls his eyes.]

OL: No, I'll tell you, that woman is a damn nutcase is what she is! 
Like somethin' out o' "Basic Instinct"... actually, like somethin' out
o' the washed-up never-watched sequel is more like it.  [pause] 
Lawyer's dealin' with it... no, that was not my camera, Nik.  I don't
even own one.

[Orin snorts.]

OL: Honestly?  Ain't none o' them are worth wastin' film on anyway,
that's why.  Bunch o' harpies, all o' them...

[He grins a little]

OL: ...look, I gotta let you go.  If you're still slavin' along in that
third-rate organization an' they ever have the guts to come up to the
Northwest, I'll show you around Portland proper, all right?

[LeBlanc hangs up as we wipe cut to a backstage area in the Rose Garden.
A cursory look reveals it to be the trainer's room. A closer view
reveals a long metal table in the middle, loose rolls of gauze strewn
upon it, drops of blood on the floor, and file folder several inches
thick sitting on the adjacent counter. A man, clearly fatigued from a
wild six-man tag match that occurred just moments earlier, sits upon the
table and is in the process of tending to his own wounds. All the
medical staff and emergency technicians are currently helping his
teammates for the night, both of whom had their faces smashed with the
championship belt. With just a few scratches and bruises along his arms
and chest, the man got pretty lucky tonight. No complaints as he
finishes wrapping up his forearm and throws out the blood-soaked gauze.
He's done this plenty of times and for far worse injuries. The peace is
interrupted by a RCW staffer who walks in and hands him a note. Vinny
Carmazzi brushes the sweaty dirty blonde hair out of his face to get a
better look. He opens it up and reads it, no apparent reaction. He
thanks the staffer as he leaves.]
 
VC: Same situation next show. A tag partner I don't have much of a
problem with. A tag partner I'd rather be tearing limb from limb.
 
[He leaves the viewers to determine which one is Orin LeBlanc and Nolan
Dorado. Not that it isn't obvious.]
 
VC: On the other side, one really dangerous opponent. And one who's just
trying to survive and make it in this sport.
 
[Again, not that it's too hard to distinguish between Akitoshi Ogawa and
Mark Coleman.]
 
VC: At least there are only two opponents next time.
 
[Vinny takes a brief moment to appreciate small miracles.]
 
VC: Now if this match can also end with me getting one in the win column
because the guy I despise gets his brains bashed in, then I'll be happy.
 
[Awkward, emotionless sarcasm from Carmazzi. Really, as if he ever could
be happy.]
 
VC: But I'd rather dish out the justice myself. The little bastard
Dorado tried to put me out.
 
[Carmazzi's face contorts from pain. A sting in his neck that doesn't
feel like just a memory.]
 
VC: Twelve years of work almost down the drain because his delicate ego
couldn't handle being one-upped by a "curtain jerker."
 
[Vinny provides little overt response to what was supposed to be a
derogatory term.]
 
VC: The label fit at one point. I opened shows. Went months without a
win.
 
[These experiences are never kept too far from consciousness.]
 
VC: I did it because I was learning. Dorado, you did it because you're
just not that good.
 
[Vinny looks right into the camera, emphasizing every single word.]
 
VC: The first time you lost, it was because you got caught in the
Kimura. Then you wanted a rematch. And you showed that you didn't learn
a damn thing. You got caught in it again and tapped.
 
[He shakes his head back and forth. Disapproving.]
 
VC: And then because you wanted another rematch, you couldn't get it
done in your next few matches. Lost all those too.
 
[Vinny tries to show some sympathy for Dorado, but is unable.]
 
VC: So on the next RAMPAGE, we'll finally be in the same ring again.
Don't matter that we're teammates. Don't matter that we have a third
wheel. Don't matter that we'll have a King of the Death Match staring
down both of us. Don't matter that there's someone who earned my respect
also standing on the other side.
 
[Vinny leans in and starts to talk softer.]
 
VC: All that matters is that if you want to settle this once and for
all, just man up and try.
 
[His determination is still loud and clear.]
 
VC: Last time, I wanted to beat the champ just a little bit more. This
time, there isn't any doubt in my mind that I'd rather break your arm. I
don't want to have to wait for Wild Summer Night. I don't want to have
to chance you and Orin being a team inside the cage. The best
opportunity we'll have to finish this one-on-one is next RAMPAGE. All
you have to do is make the first move.
 
[His anticipation is also evident.]
 
VC: But if not, I'm sure I can still have a little fun at your expense
next show.
 
[Anger causes his voice to rise in volume again.]
 
VC: But there will be no fun or games at the Pay-Per-View. We'll be
inside a steel cage. No escape. But it's not that I would want one.
 
[He again pulls his dirty blonde hair out of the way.]
 
VC: Because what I want is to grab ahold of your arm again. Pull with
everything I got.
 
[Nothing between the camera and the cold look in his eyes.]
 
VC: And listen for a series of breaks.
 
[Tough words, but not an ounce of joy in them.]
 
VC: Because after all the insults, blindsides, mocking, and ambushes,
you've got this coming Dorado. And it's just a matter of when I deliver.
 
[His teeth grit. A vein starts to throb in his still-recovering neck.]
 
VC: Make your move on RAMPAGE. I dare you to.
 
[As Carmazzi continues to glare at the camera, we wipe-cut to an
exterior view shot at night of a sidewalk in front of a low, square
building in front of which numerous people can be seen walking back and
forth.  Beneath a bright neon sign that reads: “Harvey's Comedy Club &
Restaurant”, a line of men and women can be seen forming as they wait to
be admitted. In the foreground of this scene, “Golden Boy” Nolan Dorado
and his girlfriend, Jodee Burwick, stroll nonchalantly into view as
traffic can be heard whizzing past in the background.  Burwick’s
expression is one of artificial boredom while Dorado looks visibly
annoyed as he begins addressing the camera.]

ND: So here we are at Harvey’s on Sixth Avenue, just across the river
from the Rose Garden, and you might be asking yourself... why is the
“Golden Boy” going to a comedy club?  Why would Rip City’s most talented
wrestler speak to us from such a venue?

[Several people in the lineup behind them notice the camera and begin
clowning around in the background while some of the males cast
appraising glances towards Jodee’s surgically-enhanced curves.  Dorado
ignores this byplay as he continues.]

ND: The reason I’m here, Rip City fans, is because this upcoming Rampage
is nothing but a big, fat joke!  So since someone in the head office
obviously has their head rammed up their posterior and thinks it’s funny
to put me in a match teamed up with a pair of morons I’m going to be
beating up on pay-per-view, I figured I might as well go somewhere where
the humor is actually... you know, funny?

[Dorado’s scowl indicates that he is definitely not amused.]

ND: Strange Bedfellows Match?  What the hell is that, a dig at my
girlfriend??

[This elicits the first attentive response from RCW’s resident “cougar”
as Burwick pouts.]

ND: Bad enough that I’ve got to work alongside the curtain-jerker but it
just gets worse when I’m teamed up with that peeping tom pervert?  Hell,
if someone’s trying to play a joke, they’ve got a hell of a lot to learn
about humor!

[With a thumb over his shoulder, Dorado indicates the comedy club behind
him where the patrons outside can now be seen being admitted.]

ND: Which is why I’ve come here... to get a real laugh instead of trying
to put up with the twisted, sick joke that this match has become!  But
you know what?  It doesn’t matter if someone’s trying to screw around
with me to try and get ratings.  It doesn’t matter if Carmazzi’s gonna
spend more time trying to break my arm than actually, you know, win a
match for a change?  It doesn’t even matter that I’m gonna have to put
up with LeBlanc drooling all over Jodee here while I have to do all the
work and get the job done!!

[Stepping forward, Dorado reaches towards the camera with both hands and
pulls the lens toward him so that his angered face fills the screen.  A
squeak of protest can be heard from the cameraman but it’s ignored.]

ND: Whoever thought up this joke of a match has obviously forgotten the
Golden Rule... and that’s the “Golden Boy”... RULES!

[Releasing the camera with a shove, Dorado steps back as the scene
wobbles for a moment until the cameraman is able to steady his
equipment.  Dorado and Burwick continue to glare angrily into the
camera’s lens.]

ND: Carmazzi and LeBlanc?  If there is a joke, it’s gonna be on you two
sorry jackasses... and just you wait until you hear the punch line!

[And with that, the duo turns on their heels and marches through the
door being held open by a bouncer as they enter the comedy club.  The
camera pans upward a little to focus on the flickering “Harvey's Comedy
Club & Restaurant” sign for a moment before fading to black.  We cut to
a wide-eyed teenager.

The young man in question wears a red-and-white uniform, with a matching
red apron and white hat.  A bit of acne scars his face as he repeats
what was just told to him.]

Teen: You want two of everything?

MC: Right.

[The camera swings a bit, and now we see what the teenager was looking
at.  Mark Coleman, hands resting on the steel counter of the fast-food
joint, repeats what he just told the teenager.]

MC: Right.  Two 12-inch steak hoagies with cheese, onions, and green
peppers, two large orders of fries, and two extra-large Cokes.

Teen: And these are all for you?

MC: Yep.  I'm freakin' hungry this afternoon.

Teen: Alright... okay, Joe!  That order I just read off, it's
legitimate!

[From the back, we hear the proverbial Joe yell out]

Joe: Damn wrestlers!  Alright, alright, tell him it'll be a few minutes.

Teen: It'll be a few minutes, sir.

MC: Ain't got nothin' but time.  Thanks.

[Coleman turns away from the stand and walks a few feet across a tiled
floor.  He has to make his way through other hungry people, though, as
they all make their way through the food court of the Lloyd Center, one
of Portland's premiere shopping malls.  Located on the 2nd floor of the
mall, the food court is packed with shoppers and eaters, and there's
barely a table to be had anywhere on the floor.

Coleman, wearing blue jeans and a black Tennessee Titans t-shirt, leans
against a free spot on a railing running the length of the food court. A
few seconds go buy, and Coleman looks around at the crowd.  He appears
to be scanning for someone, as his eyes narrow and he raises up on his
feet to try to peer over the masses as far as he can...

...and after a few more seconds, he raises a big arm and waves it.]

MC: Zeke!  Zeke!  Yo, over here!

[After a few moments, Zeke Brackett, dressed in jeans, a sleeveless camo
shirt and oversized aviator sunglasses, enters the shot. He rudely
shoves his way through the crowd, Coleman rolling his eyes as Brackett
finally reaches him. Brackett takes off his sunglasses, his face almost
blank, except for the slight tinge of reluctance he has towards meeting
Coleman. The two men stand silent, the animosity between them getting
more obvious by the second. Brackett folds his arms and finally breaks
the silence.]

ZB: Mark.

MC: Zeke.

ZB: I really don't have time to chit-chat and act like pals with you,
Coleman. Cut to the chase.

MC: Wow, Zeke.  That any way to treat your charge's tag team partner?

[Brackett's face twists into a wry, sarcastic smile.]

ZB: Oh? The hillbilly is a businessman now? Just because ol' Danny
Spreads made you and Akitoshi partners doesn't mean we like you. If it
was up to me, you'd be getting butchered next week, but there I guess we
have to wait until Wild Summer Night for that.

[Brackett laughs to himself, looking Coleman up and down.]

ZB: So again, don't waste my damn time.

MC: Zeke, trust me.  I know you're a busy man and all, and you're
probably on your way to get some barbed wire for Ogawa to cuddle with at
night or somethin'.  And believe me, I ain't much likin' the idea of
bein' this close to you in public either.

[Brackett scoffs at this remark, rolling his eyes and turning to
leave....]

ZB: What a waste of my....

[...but Coleman clutches his shoulder, slowly spinning him back towards
himself, Brackett's face twisted as he pushes Coleman's hand away.]

ZB: Just why in the hell did you ask me to meet you here?

MC: Look.  You said it best, you'd rather see me gettin' my butt kicked
by that monster you call your charge, and I'd rather be kickin' his
butt. On that, we're in agreement.  But reason I asked you here, Zeke,
ain't because of Wild Summer Night and the whippin' I'm gonna lay down
on Ogawa in front of the entire world.  Reason I asked you down here,
Zeke, it concerns Rampage next week, and that handicap match President
Spreadbury decided to throw us into.  Never realized he had a sick sense
of humor like that, thinkin' me and the King of "I Need a Hug" could
co-exist for even one matchup.

[Brackett smiles, looking at the floor, his arms folded across this
chest.  He chuckles to himself, finally looking up to Coleman, who is
visibly starting to become tired of Brackett's attitude.]

ZB: King Of "I Need A Hug"? That's cute, Mark. But I remind you that he
is YOUR tag partner as well. He'll be the one in your corner, watching
your back when LeBlanc, Dorado and Carmazzi are working you over.

MC: Exactly, Zeke.  You're right.

ZB: As always, Mr. Coleman. As always.

MC: Yeah, sure. But let me ask you this question, Zeke.  Honestly answer
it for me.  Your guy... King Of The Deathmatch.  Someone hang that title
on him, or did he actually go out and earn it in the ring?

[Brackett smiles.]

ZB: If you really want to see it, I'm positive that you can find the
video somewhere. It's somewhat of a cult classic among wrestling fans.
But I'll tell you this: I have never seen more blood spilled inside of a
wrestling ring, and I have been in this business for almost fifteen
years. Tables, chairs, barbed wire, thumbtacks, staple guns....it was a
disgustingly beautiful site to behold. I was there that night, Coleman.
I saw Ogawa fight through an injury that could have ended his career.
All it took was for The Great Nakito, a man who is treated like a god in
Japan, to make one mistake... one... small... mistake... before he found
himself getting choked out in front of over 50,000 fans.

[Coleman nods at those words, having experienced Ogawa's rage first
hand.]

MC: I ain't gonna lie, Zeke.  Your guy's one tough son-of-a-gun. Figured
he's the type to get his hands dirty.  He ain't a guy who likes to lose,
is he?

[Brackett shakes his head.]

MC: Good.  Because I ain't either.  Losin' ain't in my blood, Zeke, and
you and Ogawa gonna find that out in a few weeks at Wild Summer Night...

[Brackett's eyes become wide.]

ZB: Oh, is that....

[Coleman puts up a hand, cutting Zeke off before he can speak]

MC: ...but that's ain't why I asked you here today.  Look, we got this
match.  And I'm sure people gonna be expectin' somethin' to happen
between your guy and me, and we end up goin' at it tooth and claw.  One
problem with that, though.  We do that, Zeke, and what happens?

[Brackett places a hand on his chin, trying to make himself appear in
deep thought.]

ZB: Aside from my man kicking your ass, those three across the ring
would probably capitalize.

MC: Exactly.  Ain't much fun in takin' a loss, is there?

ZB: None at all. What do you propose, Mr. Coleman?

MC: Simple.  Your man and me promise not to go at it on Rampage next
week.  I ain't sayin' we gotta be buddy buddy and hold hands and all
that junk.  What I'm sayin' is... your man shows how badly he wants to
win.  I know Ogawa wants to get his hands on me, and believe me, Zeke,
the feelin' is damn mutual.  But I want to win more.  I'll tell you,
right here, Southern Gentleman's Honor, I ain't gonna lay a hand on
Ogawa 'cept to tag him in.  I'm gonna go out there and be a
professional, I'm gonna go out there and be a winner, and I promise you,
Zeke, I won't jump your man when his back is turned, before the match,
during the match, and after the match.

[Coleman holds up one finger.]

MC: One night, Zeke.  Just one.  Your man's obviously a wrecking
machine.  But can he actually wrestle well enough to overcome a 3-on-2? 
I reckon so.  What do you reckon?

ZB: Well, I reckon if you won't screw up, you might have yourself a
deal.

[Brackett extends his hand to Coleman, who looks down at it before
looking back to Brackett, who eagerly awaits a response from the big
Tennessean.]

MC: Reckon we have a deal then.

[Coleman's hand reaches out, and takes Brackett's.  It's a quick,
prefunctory shake, but the deal is made in that moment.]

MC: Where is your charge, anyway?

ZB: He is actually in Japan at the moment. He flew out after RAMPAGE
last week. Even a monster needs time to clear his head. But don't worry,
Coleman. He'll be back tomorrow.

[Coleman nods, rubbing his chin as if to formulate another question.
Brackett puts on his sunglasses and the two share an awkward silence.]

ZB: Anything else, Mark?

MC: Not really.  Just gonna eat lunch and head back to the gym.
But...thanks for comin' out, Zeke.  Glad the two of us could settle this
like gentlemen and put it on hold for just one night.  Just remember,
after we leave the arena next week, all bets are back on the table. 
This ain't a sign of weakness, mind you.  Just want the win more then
anything.  Don't take it as more then that.  And make damn sure Ogawa
knows that.

[Brackett's signature smug grin comes across his face as he nods to
Coleman.]

ZB: Likewise, Coleman. Likewise.

[And with that, Brackett exits the shot. Coleman's eyes follow him as he
walks away, brooding with thought.  We fade back to the studio and to
Don Ditka on that image.  The screen now shows Derek Rage and “The
Jersey Drifter” Liam Cassidy on one side, and Dave Bryant and Ryan Faith
on the other.]

DD: Another huge tag team match on next week's show pits Wild Summer
Night opponents Derek Rage and Dave Bryant on opposing teams.  Bryant is
partnered by Ryan Faith, who is set to meet "Showtime" Rick Marley at
Wild Summer Night, but we saw from last week's six-man tag team match
that Faith and Bryant should have no trouble working together --
provided Faith leaves his attitude at the curtain.  But what about the
pairing of tag team specialist Derek Rage with "The Jersey Drifter" Liam
Cassidy?  Cassidy's now under the tutelage of the legendary "Spotlight"
Billy Shakespeare in the run-up to his match at Wild Summer Night with
Lord Byron, but maybe tagging up with the accomplished Derek Rage will
do him the world of good.  We'll find out!  Let's hear from one of
Cassidy's opponents in this match, young lion Ryan Faith.

[Cut to Ryan Faith -- amazingly, alone -- standing there wearing a black
T-shirt with "Got Faith?" written in bold white print and a pair of
shredded up, jean shorts. Ryan stands there, continuously flipping his
shaggy, brown hair out of his face waiting for his cue from the
cameraman. He looks a lot more relaxed than usual.]
 
RF: Oh, there should be no questions remaining or uncertainties
regarding the alliance which has formed between the three greatest
competitors in the RCW. An alliance uneasy at times, but brought
together by a simple and pure ideological concept. This concept revolves
around the theory of survival of the fittest. The strong get stronger
and the weak get destroyed. Simple, no?
 
But there are those who don't understand or don't follow this ideology.
Those people are the weak. They are the ones who are not strong enough
to stand at the forefront. They are the ones who stare like deer at the
oncoming headlights of a mac truck and get run over on the highway of
life. There mouths agape, not knowing how to act or how to respond.
There is no room in society for them. There is no room in the RCW for
them. So when they team up the dominators against the weak, they are
only subscribing to the truth... to the reality.
 
[Faith smirks.]
 
RF: It's not enough for me to come out every week and show everyone how
physically and mentally dominating I am. Then I decided that there was
another man in this federation who saw the world as I saw it. Another
man who woke up every morning absolutely hating the stench of obscurity
that wreaked itself here in the RCW. Yeah, JP and I were probably the
oddest of allies, but by god, we know what we want and we know how to
get it. And now Dave...
 
[Pause.]
 
Dave's a grown man. He was a world champion before I was even thinking
about joining this sport. So I think a lot of you need to start thinking
about the storm that is forming above the skies here in RCW. I want you
all to think about whether or not you'll be able to weather the storm. I
want you all to think about whether or not you can stand up to the fire
that will ravage the RCW. I want you to constantly peek out of your
locker rooms and worry about what is going to happen. Because you need
to. You need to realize that its not even safe to come outside and smoke
a cigarette much less cut a promo or wrestle a match.
 
Dave said it best... it's time for the culling.
 
[Ryan looks down at his hands.]
 
RF: "And I will execute great vengeance upon them with furious rebukes;
and they shall know that I am the LORD, when I shall lay my vengeance
upon them."
 
[Ryan keeps looking at his hands as he laughs maniacally.]
 
RF: Who will test their faith?

[Wipe cut to Derek Rage, backstage in his dressing room.  He is draped
in a towel, his thickly-muscled upper body exposed.  He leans back in
his seat, his feet dunked in two buckets of ice.  He is the pciture of
relaxation.  It's almost as if he doesn't know that he has a match
tonight.  But this is Derek Rage. He knows.  It just doesn't seem to
bother him.]

DR: Bryant, looks like we're matching up again before the pay-per-view.
Looks like you've got one chance out there to redeem yourself after the
frozen fish debacle.  I mean, at least you've got a partner who might be
able to help you out.

DR: I know you're back stage trying to think of something suitably
"Nagpalian" to embarrass me with.  I know it's eating you up inside that
your return is being regarded largely as nothing because you are matched
up against the smartest wrestler in the world.  Think about that, you're
wrestling a man who only needs a frozen flounder to make you tap out.

[Derek tsks.]

DR: And to top it all off, Bryant.  Think about it, we're in another
tag-team match.  I mean, we're right in my bailiwick again.  Don't you
think the RCW is trying to send you a message?  Don't you think they're
trying to let you know that you aren't good enough?  I mean, I got the
message loud and clear.  They're setting you up to fail.  Don't you
realise that?  And now it is just up to me to make sure that you do. 
Actually, that's no struggle.  You will fail simply because you're not
half as good as you think you are.  I hope you're not thinking about
another hurricanrana tonight, are you?

[The sarcasm is dripping from Rage's every word.]

DR: Just be a man and bring some goddamn pride to the ring, Bryant. 
That's all I ask of you.  Just bring some god damn pride to the table
and I'll be happy.  Because there's nothing like chopping down a little
punk who thinks he's smarter than he is.  And I get to do it twice.  See
you in the ring, little man.

[Cut back to the studio.  Now the faces of Madrock the Irrepressible and
"The Fallen Angel" David Cross are pitted against those of "Your Hero"
Danny Daniels and Christian Right on the screen behind Ditka.]

DD: Rounding out next week's card, two more peculiar partnerships square
off.  Christian Right and "Your Hero" Danny Daniels are certainly among
the more, uh, *eccentric* athletes in RCW, and it will be fascinating to
find out how well these two men can work together.  Here's a sneak peek
at their team dynamic.

[The camera fades in to two figures.  On his left, wearing a 'YOUR HERO'
yellow t-shirt, wraparound sunglasses, and a cast on his left arm, is
Danny Daniels.

On the right, wearing a suit, tie, white collar, suit pants, and holding
a Bible is Christian Right.]

D'YH'D:  Greetings and Salutations!  I'm Danny 'Your Hero' Daniels, a
man so nice they named me twice.  And with me is a man of God, Chris
Rightian!

CR: Hello all, may you serve the lord. And may his eternal glory light
up your miserable and dismal lives. Young Daniel it's a pleasure to be
talking to you, I see you almost as an exception to the barbarians that
take place in this practice. So let's get this started.

D'YH'D: Now, Chris -- this week you and I face David Crosby and Mudrock.
And I know the Good Book says you shouldn't hurt your fellow man -- but
in this case, I think we need to make an exception.

CR: Thou shalt not strike down against thy brother, that's why I'm here
in the first place, no exceptions, Young Daniel.

D'YH'D: Are you sure?  I'm pretty sure about page 74 they specifically
say that Albanians like Mudrock are exempt -- that God wants you to hurt
them!

CR: God loves all of his children, even the Albanians. God does not want
us to hurt each other, he wants us to all come together so we can speed
up the day that he will reign over us in his eternal kingdom of heaven.

D'YH'D: No exceptions?

CR: That's right, none.

D'YH'D: None?

CR: No exceptions whatsoever.

D'YH'D: At all?

CR: Young Daniel, I thought you were one of the smarter ones! One of the
noble savages! Why are you turning to sin just like all the rest of
them! You can be better then those filthy and heathenistic wrestlers!

D'YH'D: But... you're a wrestler!  And you said that you want to hurt
David Crosby.  How come...

CR: I AM THE HAND OF GOD AND GOD CAN RELEASE HIS WRATH THROUGH ME!

[Right's eyes suddenly fill with fire and he slams his hand on the desk
and the screen gets fuzzy and fades to black, the words scroll across
the screen like always and the usual voic is heard:]

VO: THIS MESSAGE WAS PAID FOR BY CHRISTIAN RIGHT WITH A LOT OF HELP FROM
DANNY DANIELS.

[The voices of Christian Right and Danny Daniels can be heard arguing,
but the words are too difficult to make out.  After a moment...

The scene goes back to the both of them in the room.  Danny is on the
left hand side, Christian Right on the right hand side.  Danny
speaks...]

D'YH'D: Mudrock, you've gotten on the wrong side of... ME!  'Your Hero',
Danny Daniels, far too many times.

[As Danny speaks, Christian starts going into convulsions.  Danny's not
paying attention to him as he continues.]

D'YH'D: I let you sell those cancerous bandannas, even though they were
made with shards of glass and often cut people who were foolish enough
to wear them...

CR: [screaming]  MADROCK IS A PERVERT!

D'YH'D: Yes, he is.  All Alaskans are.  But now, after I trounced you in
the arm wrestling contest [Danny tries to make a muscle with his left
arm, but the cast prevents that.  He shrugs], you decided to interfere
in my last match.  You denied the people in the audience a chance to see
ME in action!

CR: [hollering]  CROSS IS A SINNER!

D'YH'D: As for David Crosby... Well, I came across a man of God [Danny
points to Right].  He was walking along the road.  And I asked him
"Tell, where are you going?"  This, he told me.  "Well, I am going to
Yasgur's Farm.  Going to join in a rock and roll band.  Going to get
back to the land to set my soul free."

[Danny nods]

D'YH'D: And I suggest you join this man of God, David.  Because, if you
go into the ring instead of Yasgur's farm, you're going to find yourself
hurt.  Hurt at the hands of... ME!

CR: [more convulsing]  GOD IS GLORY!

D'YH'D: And Danny Daniels is YOUR HERO!

[Danny looks over, sees Right Convulsing, looks back at the camera, and
gives a wave.]

D'YH'D: TOODLES~!

[Cut back to Ditka in the studio, who rolls his eyes.]

DD: Well, folks, you probably know what to make of that as much as I do.
 But I wouldn't expect this match to be a walk in the park for Daniels'
and Right's opponents, either, as Madrock the Irrepressible has shown
himself to be Madrock the Incendiary, or perhaps Madrock the Irascible
over the past weeks.  Can Madrock focus his rage purely on his opponents
-- or will his partner, David Cross, get caught in the crossfire?  I
understand our young intern Jamie Bond has a special report concerning
the freak from up Abbott's Peak.  Jamie?

[From within the RCW recording studios, Jamie Bond sits behind a news
desk reading off from the most recent events. At the bottom of the
screen is a scrolling sidebar reading "MADROCK AT WAR", with
corner-right head frame of Madrock the Irrepressible. Something out of
the ordinary for the regular viewer: Jamie Bond's right hand is all
bandaged up, looking more like an oven mitt then anything else.
Broadcasting begins.]

JB: If you didn't know by now, consider yourselves warned: Madrock is
out for blood. Those following our fine wrestling programming will have
noticed the change in his character: bloodshot eyes filled with hatred,
increasing animal-like behavior and a violent disposition towards all
men. Sadly, this reporter failed to see the signs and paid the price.
The following is footage filmed last week at the Rampage show and
details my last encounter with the beast known as Madrock... Because I
am NOT interviewing that madman again.

[Scene is just outside of the Rose Garden arena during RAMPAGE. Madrock
the Irrepressible has chased Danny Daniels seemingly out of the arena
but failed to get his hands on him. He has been battered and bruised by
Ogawa but remained on his feet throughout the entire time, neglecting
medical help. Madrock stands outside, looking out into the empty
distance and breathing heavily as the cold night air approaches. This is
the opportunity Jamie Bond takes for interviewing the grappler, and
where he makes the mistake of cutting in.]

JB: Madrock, if you're looking for Danny Daniels, I think you just
missed him! I saw a car pull out, running hell for leather outta here!
Frankly, I don't think you're going to be able to stop him tonight, but
better luck--

[Madrock grabs Jamie Bond's microphone. With Jamie's hand still wrapped
around it. The poor little fellow audibly winces in pain as Madrock
begins to gather his anger and his thoughts for the vitriol he is about
to unleash.]

M: YOU CAN'T RUN FROM THE MADROCK CUZ THE MADROCK DON'T STOP! I'll hunt
you all day, crushing everything in my path, no escape from Madrock's
wrath! Then I meet you in your dreams, while you're unaware, cuz I'm
your worst effin' nightmare!! When I come I smash everything, leave
nothing standing, chomp down on your bones and stomp you right flat! I
let the Ogawa go cuz good enemies are hard to find and Madrock needs his
fights like he needs meat to eat and rum to drink! But you Dannels...
YOU WILL BE DESTROYED! YOU *WILL* BE DESTROYED!!! YOU... WILL BE...
DESTROYED!!!!

[Madrock CRUSHES the microphone in his hand, leaving shattered pieces of
plastic crumbling to the floor. Jamie Bond follows, falling with a sad
whimper, clutching his broken hand. We now return to the broadcasting
studio, where the explanation for the oven mitt-like bandage becomes
self-evident.]

JB: And it is because I am not paid HALF enough to go around chasing
wild monsters that there won't be any Madrock interviews this week.
Instead, I took the liberty of interviewing those who encountered the
snarling beast, so that THEY may give you their input on what's on his
mind. As for me, I've had all the Madrock I could possibly take...

[Scene fades to the RCW backstage area where Jamie Bond, bandaged hand
and all, is seen interviewing one of the blue shirt security officers.
Eagle-eyed viewers will have recognized him as one of the chaps "trying"
to restrain the 321lbs Australian on RAMPAGE, but really... don't they
all look alike?]

SO: I am not paid HALF enough to go around stopping wild monsters
rampaging around the arena.

[Eye rolling from Jamie Bond.]

SO: I'm employed to make sure that no one interrupts any of the matches,
but if some blood-crazed monster gets in my way... Hey, I'm like
everyone else in professional wrestling: without any health insurance.
It's not that I'm inefficient: look closely at the tapes, you'll find
it's me holding Madrock up for that 1/10th of a second there. Not there.
No, further... yeah, THERE! I'm stopping him... Now I'm gone and stomped
into the cold cement... That's my splotch over there... No, there... No
that's my co-worker, I'm the more reddish splotch.

[This is pathetic, so scenery change. Outside to the ticket center,
Jamie Bond interviews one of the many fans ready to reserve his seat for
next weeks RAMPAGE wrestling show. The kid has a strange look in his eye
but he looks fairly enthusiastic, so he's good enough for camera time.]

Fan: Frankly, I came here so I could see Madrock kill Daniels and get it
over with.

[Jamie Bond isn't quite sure he understands this fan too well.]

JB: Uhhhh... you mean "kill" as in seriously inflict hurt on Danny
Daniels, right?

Fan: No, I'm pretty much talking full-scale murder here. Crippling arm
submissions are keen and all, but when are we going to see Madrock just
grab someone's neck and snap it in half? RCW needs more quadriplegic
victims. And are we EVER going to see someone set on fire, or is that
just constant blueballing on the part of RCW?

[Jamie Bond stands transfixed, basically staring right through the fan.
Then he turns away from said fan, making sure he gets a nice shot of
himself with the sports arena.]

JB: I'm standing in front of Portland's own Rose Garden arena, so as to
show our viewers that we are STILL in the state of Oregon and not
transported to Philly by some strange Rod Serling-like shenanigans.

Fan: You know what else this federation needs? Rape!

[Fade back to RCW broadcasting studios with an exasperated Jamie Bond at
the helm, quite eager to get this oddball segment over with.]

JB: I've had a pretty rough two weeks, so I'm going to end this. Madrock
is at large and no one is safe. Madrock is at war and casualties are on
the rise. Madrock walks the streets and people are afraid. Look out and
be careful: he's a big man but he's shown a cunning streak when he wants
to, sneaking out of nowhere for the assault. I leave you and good luck.

[Camera starts to pan up and out of shot... The last thing you notice is
the massive frame of six foot two inch Madrock the Irrepressible
standing right behind Jamie Bond, holding his powerful arms far apart,
ready to bring them together in a great clasp!  Cut back to Ditka in the
studio.]

DD: Let's hope Jamie's okay, folks.  And before we leave this match --
what about rookie Nathan Herod?  His manager, Mick Silvestri, has vowed
to get Herod involved in Wild Summer Night, and my sources tell me his
plans involve both Christian Right and David Cross.

[The screen behind Ditka shows the RAMPAGE logo and contact details for
the box office once again.]

DD: All in all, it's going to be another extraordinary hour of wrestling
action as we count down the days towards RCW Wild Summer Night.  If you
don't have your ticket yet, ask fast: the last two RAMPAGE events have
been completely sold out, and the last few tickets for next Thursday
night's show are sure to go quickly.  If you can't be there in person,
don't forget to tune in next Thursday night at 10pm on KPDX-49 to catch
all the action on TV instead.  And TV is the only way you can now be a
part of Wild Summer Night itself, as that event sold out within days. 
Check out all the latest details on the big show at
www.ripcitywrestling.com/ppv, and contact your local cable operator for
details of how to order RCW's inaugural pay-per-view event!

[The shot cuts to another camera, and Ditka turns to face it.]

DD: We're right out of time here tonight On The Wire, folks.  I'll be
back next Thursday night alongside my broadcast colleague, "Spotlight"
Billy Shakespeare, live from the Rose Garden for RAMPAGE.  Until then,
thanks for tuning in, and good night, everybody!

["Bodies" kicks in again as the studio lights dim and Ditka clicks his
retractible pen closed, slipping it into the inside chest pocket of his
jacket.  The camera pans upwards to the RCW logo as the credits roll. 
Fade to black.]

   ____________________________________________________________________
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