___ ______ __ _, _, _ ___ _,_ __, _ _ _ __, __, / _ \/ ___/ | /| / / / \ |\ | | |_| |_ | | | |_) |_ / , _/ /__ | |/ |/ / \ / | \| | | | | |/\| | | \ | /_/|_|\___/ |__/|__/ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~~ Thursday 10 August 2006 ["Bodies" by Drowning Pool plays as the titles fade through to the RCW studio set, panning down from the large blue RCW logo mounted on the set past the large plasma screen on the set backdrop behind the trademark glass-topped desk, in front of which stands the voice of RCW, Don Ditka, wearing an open-necked shirt with the RCW logo stitched onto the breast pocket. As the lights in the studio rise, Ditka looks up from the sheath of papers in his hand with a smile.] DD: Good evening, everybody, and welcome to the number one wrestling news show in the United States -- which we like to call the world of wrestling in 60 minutes. I'm Don Ditka, and this is RCW On The Wire! [Cut to another camera.] DD: It's nearly five weeks since RCW's first-ever pay-per-view, Wild Summer Night, and it's high time to kick the action up into a new gear. In this hour we'll run down the action from the Rose Garden on that hot, July night and look forward to all the live action coming your way one week from tonight as RAMPAGE returns to KPDX-49 Thursday nights. So let's get started! ___ ______ __ / _ \/ ___/ | /| / / / , _/ /__ | |/ |/ / << << << << << << REWIND << << << << << << /_/|_|\___/ |__/|__/ [Ditka is now seated behind the desk, and the Wild Summer Night logo is on the screen behind him.] DD: Folks, what a night it was: Sunday, July 16th, live from the Rose Garden, only on pay-per-view -- Wild Summer Night more than lived up to expectations, and had a few surprises of its own. [Cut to footage captioned, "16 JULY 2006" showing "Soundbite" Steve Roberts coming down the aisle, wearing his trademark leather jacket and "SHOOT, SOUNDBITE! SHOOT!" t-shirt. We hear Ditka's voice over.] DD: Right off the bat we were treated to quite the surprise, as legendary colour commentator "Soundbite" Steve Roberts made his return to Portland after eight long years -- and my broadcast colleague "Spotlight" Billy Shakespeare couldn't wait for Steve Roberts to head back to Malibu, or wherever it is the Soundbite now makes his home. But love him or hate him, Steve Roberts brought an edge to the broadcast that made it truly memorable -- and I'm sure RCW President Daniel Spreadbury will be keen to bring him back to Portland in the near future. I can just imagine Steve Robert's reaction... we can't afford him, baby dolls. [Jump-cut to "Lone Wolf" Brody Thunder making his way down the aisle, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, and entering the ring to grab a microphone. Again, we hear Ditka's voice-over.] DD: Another surprise -- before the bell had even rung for the first match of the night -- saw the legendary "Lone Wolf" Brody Thunder make his way down to the ring to announce that, win or lose, his unsanctioned Lights Out match against Owen "Truth" Curtis would be his last match. What a bombshell -- but more about that later on. [Cut to footage of Ryan Faith battling "Showtime" Rick Marley in the ring... Faith signals to Dinah on the outside, and she looks under the ring apron for something. Faith rakes his boot across Marley's face, drawing a warning from referee Jim Bright. Dinah slides a steel chair onto the ring apron.] DD: Young lion Ryan Faith aimed to step out of the shadow of his alliance with RCW Champion Johnny Pleasence and Dave Bryant when he took on the exciting cruiserweight "Showtime" Rick Marley in the night's opening match. [Faith turns his attention back to Marley as Bright spots Dinah on the apron. While Bright's back is turned, Faith grabs the steel chair, and lays it in the ring. The crowd buzzes as Faith drags Marley to his feet once again. We hear Ditka's original commentary.] DD: Come on, ref! Dinah now, distracting the official *again*, while Ryan Faith has that steel chair in the ring. [Faith and Marley stand over the steel chair. Faith puts Marley's head between his legs, underhooks both arms, then lifts him up, and...] * CLANG! * [Big, big heel pop!] DD: TEST OF FAITH! TEST OF FAITH! Onto the steel chair! [As Faith makes the cover and pins Marley, we hear Ditka's voice-over again:] DD: Once again, Dinah proved to be the difference-maker for Ryan Faith as he picked up the pinfall win over Rick Marley, thanks to a Test of Faith onto the steel chair. That match has done it for Rick Marley, who has subsequently been released from his contract following a heart-to-heart with RCW's Head of Talent Relations, Brad Kinder. I understand that Marley has some personal difficulties, and he's been released from his contract on good terms. He'll be welcomed back to RCW with open arms if and when he can defeat his own personal demons. Ryan Faith, however, goes from strength to strength -- and we can expect a lot more from him in the coming weeks and months. [Cut to footage of Derek Rage wrestling Dave Bryant, with Pizzazz and Glory at ringside... and then out strolls Lord Byron.] DD: Derek Rage and Dave Bryant each held one victory over the other on the way into Wild Summer Night, and both veterans -- Rage one of the most decorated tag team champions of his generation, and Bryant a former world champion -- wanted the bragging rights coming out of this one. However, the outcome of the match ended up being decided not by Rage or Bryant, but instead by British blueblood Lord Byron, who was once again sticking his nose somewhere it wasn't wanted. [Bryant hits the Sin City Driver on Pizzazz on the arena floor. Rage is overcome with fury, launching himself at the still groggy Bryant with lefts and rights, and then rolling him into the ring. Byron looks over towards Pizzazz with concern, and starts to make his way around the side of the ring to tend to her. In the ring, Rage sends Bryant for the ride, and then on the return stops him dead in his tracks with his huge hand, applying a clawhold to the Las Vegas native's head. Huge pop! We hear Ditka's original commentary:] DD: HAMMER OF GOD! HE'S GOING FOR THE HAMMER OF GOD! [Rage turns around, Bryant's head still in the claw-hold, and lifts him up... and then spots Byron bending over Pizzazz on the outside! Rage drops Bryant to the mat, the Las Vegas native landing on his feet, and bends through the ropes, yelling at Byron to leave his woman alone. Quick as a cat, Byron wheels around and *nails* Rage with the brass top of his cane, Rage ricocheting backwards and staggering back into the ring -- where he is met by a superkick from Bryant!] DD: CALL ME IN THE MORNING! CALL ME IN THE MORNING! [The crowd is incensed as Rage tumbles to the mat like a giant redwood finally felled. Bryant drops on top of Rage, and as Nickrick drops to make the count, Bryant puts his feet up on the ropes to make extra double sure, and makes the pinfall. We hear Ditka's voice-over again:] DD: That shot from Byron's cane was enough to ensure that Rage went down for the one, two, three. Both Bryant and Faith had therefore emerged victorious from their matches -- would the third time be the charm for their esteemed leader, RCW Champion Johnny Pleasence in his title defence later in the show? Only time would tell. But my money is on a confrontation between Lord Byron and Derek Rage before too long. [Cut to footage of "The Fallen Angel" David Cross's handicap match against Nathan Herod and Christian Right.] DD: Corry, Pennsylvania's favourite son, David Cross, had his work cut out for him in this handicap match against the dangerous rookie Nathan Herod and the slightly unhinged Christian Right. Right and Herod had called an uneasy truce coming into this match -- and that could only be bad news for David Cross. [Cameras all over the arena flash, but even in the intermittent strobe light it's not clear what's going on. Suddenly a deep, booming laugh is heard over the PA... and then the lights suddenly rise again. Huge pop! We hear the original match commentary:] DD: Wait a minute! BS: Christian Right is gone! SR: I love it! That crazy, sneaky little freak! [Cross looks around in confusion, but Christian Right is nowhere to be found. Herod immediately slides into the ring, and Belshee shrugs his shoulders as if to say "what else can I do?" Cross turns... and ducks under a clothesline attempt from Herod. Herod wheels around -- and eats a soupbone from the big Corry man! Big pop! Herod is rocked back on his heels, and Cross lashes out with a big boot to the midsection, then puts Herod's head between his legs.] DD: Here it comes! Cross is going for the Ashes to Ashes! [Herod, however, powers out, backdropping Cross to the mat. Disappointed pop from the fans. Herod spins around and pulls Cross back to his feet, locks his arms in, and then hefts him up into the air with a Fisherman's suplex... and then he twists Cross in mid-air, bringing him crashing down in a vicious DDT!] DD: HDD! HDD! It's over! [The crowd boos as Herod rolls onto Cross and hooks the leg. We once again hear Ditka's voice-over:] DD: So Christian Right simply vanished from the ring, and Nathan Herod was quick to pounce, putting David Cross out of his misery. A great victory for Herod, and a crushing loss for David Cross, who thus became the second casualty of Wild Summer Night. Shortly afterwards, he was released from his contract by RCW Head of Talent Relations, Brad Kinder. No such fate for Nathan Herod, whose manager "Smiling" Mick Silvestri promises greater things from his talented but raw charge in the coming weeks. [Cut to footage of "Your Hero" Danny Daniels battling Madrock the Irrepressible, after Madrock has made his entry on a peculiar vehicular conveyance, all barbed wire, skulls and belching smoke.] DD: One of the wildest matches of the night saw the long-running rivalry between "Your Hero" Danny Daniels and Madrock the Irrepressible -- which began as a conflict relating to t-shirts and bandanas, but quickly became very personal indeed -- come to its head in a Falls Count Anywhere match. Daniels trashed Madrock's peculiar car-like thing, and both men trashed the RCW President's makeshift office... but there was only ever one place this could be settled: the concessions stand. [After Daniels hits the Toodles~! diving headbutt on Madrock, Daniels drags himself to his feet, and pulls the big Australian up too. Madrock swings at Daniels... Daniels blocks! Daniels swings at Madrock... Madrock blocks! Madrock swings at Daniels again... and Daniels catches Madrock's arm, slinging his arm over his shoulder, then grabs Madrock's tights, and... HUGE POP! We hear the original commentary:] DD: HEROPLEX! HEROPLEX -- RIGHT THROUGH THE DAMN TABLE! [Daniels hefts the 321lbs frame of Madrock the Irrepressible up and then brings him crashing down through the merchandise table with a fearsome exploder suplex. T-shirts and Derek Rage foam clawhands and all sorts of other paraphernalia are covering the monster from Almunster.] SR: Cover him, Danny! Cover him good! [But Daniels doesn't cover him. Instead, he grabs every box of merchandise he can find, and dumps them all on top of Madrock. He grabs the huge board on which sample shirts and other products are mounted, and pulls that on top of Madrock. And then he clambers on top of the whole pile, and instructs Bright to make the count!] DD: My God! Madrock is entombed under all that merchandise! [Jim Bright hesitates for a moment... but then counts the pinfall as fans on the concourse cheer. We once again hear Ditka's voice-over.] DD: What a tremendous, hard-fought victory for "Your Hero" Danny Daniels -- and we haven't seen Madrock the Irrepressible since that Sunday night. Madrock has thus been suspended for 30 days, effective from a week ago last Tuesday, 1st August, and if he fails to appear at the RCW offices before the 31st August, his contract will be terminated. Have we seen the last of the monster from Almunster, the freak from up on Abbott's Peak? We certainly *haven't* seen the last of "Your Hero" Danny Daniels -- the California native is promising a big announcement at RAMPAGE next Thursday night. We'll hear from him later on. [Cut to footage of Mark Coleman wrestling Akitoshi Ogawa, with Zeke Brackett at ringside.] DD: Tennessee rookie Mark Coleman was faced with getting a huge, dangerous Japanese monkey off his back when he battled former King of the Death Match Akitoshi Ogawa in a submission match. Ever since Ogawa jumped Coleman several months ago, and put him on the shelf, the charismatic youngster from Memphis has been on a crusade to avenge that loss. And what a remarkable match it was! [Coleman releases Ogawa's arm and brings the Japanese man back to his feet. He tries to send Ogawa to the ropes, but Ogawa reverses, and on the return, locks Coleman into a full nelson! Big heel pop! We hear the original commentary:] DD: He has the full nelson! He's going for the Shunji Street Sweeper! [But Ogawa's right shoulder is hurting him, and he's not able to fully lock his fingers! Coleman brings his arms down sharply, forcing Ogawa to release the full nelson. Coleman slips around Ogawa, and drives him to the mat with an inverted Russian leg sweep, then quickly crosses Ogawa's ankles. He leans on the ankles with one knee, and lies on top of Ogawa, wrenching his right arm back and applying a crossface submission! Huge pop!] DD: He's got it! Tennessee Valley Lock! SR: Aw, crap. [Morales checks on Ogawa, who refuses to submit. The veins on Coleman's neck are standing out, his face reddening, as he leans back with all his might on the neck and arm of Ogawa. The fans start to chant:] "TVL! TVL! TVL! TVL!" [Coleman continues to keep the hold locked in. Ogawa struggles with his left arm, but is unable to get any leverage on any part of Coleman's body. He tries to roll over, but that only increases the torsion on his right arm and shoulder.] DD: Mark Coleman now, perhaps just moments away from the biggest victory of his young career! [The fans are on their feet as Coleman, through clenched teeth, yanks back on Ogawa's arm back even harder. Ogawa's hand hovers above the mat, and Morales watches with eagle eyes.] DD: Ogawa is hanging on for dear life, but he's got nowhere to go! BS: Coleman is really leaning back. Ogawa must be in searing pain from that shoulder! SR: Tough as the day is long, morons. Ogawa's gonna jump up and put Coleman through a table in a moment, you wait! [Ogawa's hand continues to hover above the mat... ...and then he slaps the mat three times! Huge pop!] * DING! DING! DING! * [Morales signals to Coleman that he should release the hold, which the young man does, and he rolls to his knees in the middle of the ring. We once again hear Ditka's voice-over.] DD: A great victory for Mark Coleman, and one that set him back on track following the derailment that Ogawa inflicted upon him some months back. For Ogawa, a defeat will come hard to this dangerous veteran -- but you can be sure that he and Brackett will have a plan in their back pocket to put the big Japanese monster right back into the mix. [Cut to footage of Lord Byron and "The Jersey Drifter" Liam Cassidy in their Street Fight.] DD: Another rivalry that reached a flashpoint at Wild Summer Night saw the first hobo of wrestling, Liam Cassidy, do battle with British blueblood Lord Byron in a street fight -- unfamiliar territory for Byron, but right up Cassidy's street, if you'll pardon the pun. It was a brutal and bloody affair, both men busted open, weapons from canes to forks to tricycles being literally thrown at each other. [Cassidy catches Byron with a right hook out of the blue, and Byron is down! We hear the original commentary.] DD: My God! My God! Cassidy just *nailed* Byron with a tremendous left hook! He's out! Byron is out! [The fans immediately break into a chant of "JUST! ONE! SECOND! JUST! ONE! SECOND!" as Cassidy drops on top of Byron, Nickrick right there to make the count...] DD: It's over! [His hand hits the mat once...] "ONE!" [His hand hits the mat twice...] "TWO!" [And his hand...] "THRREREEOOOOOOHHH!" [Huge disappointed pop as... Byron. Kicks. Out.] DD: Lord Byron just kicked out! Unbelievable! [Cassidy rises to his knees, his face ashen, his face falling into his hands as Byron somehow... somehow... struggles to his knees.] BS: Shake it off, Liam! Stay on him! DD: We can hear you now, Billy Shakespeare, loud and clear -- and this match isn't over yet! [Cassidy lashes out with a kick to Byron's midsection, doubling him over, then puts his head between his legs and goes to cradle him, ready for a cradle piledriver... but Byron yanks on Cassidy's tights, dragging the Drifter down to the mat in a pinning predicament! Nickrick is right there... but suddenly, Cassidy reverses out of nowhere! Showing he's learned to wrestle, Cassidy rolls Byron up and pins his shoulders down! Nickrick restarts the count... 1... 2...] DD: Cassidy's grabbed the ropes! BS: It's a street fight! It's legal! [...3! As the crowd pops huge, Nickrick signals for the bell! We once again hear Ditka's voice-over.] DD: In what will certainly go down as one of the biggest upsets in wrestling, Liam Cassidy -- whose professional wrestling matches can be numbered on the fingers of two hands -- pulled out a victory over Lord Byron, one of the most respected technicians of all time. As you can imagine, this didn't sit well with Byron, who attacked Cassidy after the match, unwrapping the medical tape on Cassidy's injured right hand. My broadcast colleague Billy Shakespeare -- who had coached Cassidy in preparation for the match -- had to step in to prevent Byron reinjuring that hand. When the smoke cleared, Cassidy and Shakespeare were standing tall, and Byron was sent packing, his tail between his legs. [Cut to a shot of the steel cage enclosing "Golden Boy" Nolan Dorado, Orin "the Lynx" LeBlanc and Vinny Carmazzi.] DD: One of the matches I was most looking forward to at Wild Summer Night was the three-way No Escape cage match, in which the longest-running triangle rivalry in RCW would finally -- we hoped -- be settled. And neither I nor any of the twenty thousand fans in attendance, or the hundreds of thousands watching at home on pay-per-view, were disappointed. The most innovative high-flyer in wrestling, Nolan Dorado, wouldn't be able to walk away from this match. Orin LeBlanc and Vinny Carmazzi -- for so long united by their wish to crush Dorado -- were at each others' throats coming into this match following some inspired machiavellian plotting from Dorado, and it really wasn't clear who was going to come out of this one on top! [As the match wears on, Carmazzi and LeBlanc engage in a shoving match, and Dorado is once again dragging himself to his feet. Carmazzi nails LeBlanc with a hard uppercut right, staggering him back against the ropes. Carmazzi works quickly, grabbing the second rope and lifting it up over LeBlanc's arms, tying him up in the ropes! Carmazzi continues to pelt LeBlanc with hard uppercuts, the Lynx attempting to lash out with his legs... but Carmazzi dodges out of the way. He turns around... and is met by a tremendous spinning heel kick from Dorado! We hear the original commentary:] DD: Dorado has Carmazzi down! LeBlanc is trapped -- and Dorado is climbing! [Dorado is yet again up on the turnbuckles, facing into the ring. He looks down on Carmazzi in the middle of the ring... and then turns and starts to climb the cage yet again! Carmazzi is motionless in the ring, and LeBlanc is still struggling to free himself! And then, cameras flashing all over the arena... Dorado launches himself with a beautiful backflip, rotating backwards and extending his leg... attempting to drop the leg on Carmazzi, and...] DD: Modified Golden Guillotine from Dorado -- AND IT MISSES! [Huge, huge pop as Carmazzi dodges out of the way of the inverted somersault legdrop, and immediately Carmazzi grabs hold of Dorado's right arm, cinching in a "figure four" wristlock, and then wrenching back!] DD: KIMURA ARMBAR! KIMURA ARMBAR! BS: Carmazzi was playing possum! Unbelievable! [As LeBlanc struggles vainly to free himself from the ropes, Carmazzi leans back as hard as he can, trying to break Dorado's arm! Belshee checks on Dorado, and the fans are on their feet, cheering, wanting to see the moment Dorado is forced to tap... and Dorado's free hand hits the mat three times! Huge pop! Belshee calls for the bell!] * DING! DING! DING! * DD: He did it! He did it! Carmazzi has made Nolan Dorado tap to the Kimura Armbar! [As "I Stand Alone" kicks in over the PA, Belshee forces Carmazzi to release the Kimura armbar, and Dorado rolls to one side of the ring, clutching at his right arm. At that moment, LeBlanc finally manages to free himself from the ropes! Once again we hear Ditka's voice-over.] DD: This was a match that will live long in the memory, folks. And we caught up with Nolan Dorado in the hours after the match to find out how he felt about his narrow defeat. [The scene switches to a dark interior view of the Rose Garden, shot from high in the bleachers looking down onto the ring in the middle of the arena floor. From the signage still displayed on the walls and the multitude of empty seats strewn with debris, this footage is being recorded late at night following the conclusion of the Wild Summer Night pay-per-view. Reclining on one of the seats is "Golden Boy" Nolan Dorado who is definitely looking the worse for wear. His nose is very swollen and a small wad of white cloth can be seen protruding from one blood-encrusted nostril. A small bandage below his right eye is also bloodstained and his face is distorted by heavy bruising and swelling. Most noticeable, however, is the large ice pack strapped to the "Golden Boy's" right shoulder. Despite his wounds, Dorado looks somber as he stares down at the ring where stagehands can be seen packing away the sections of the steel cage in which he'd suffered his injuries earlier in the evening. As he watches them work, a sharp voice interrupts his thoughts.] V: There you are! I've been looking for you all over! [Dorado looks up absentmindedly as RCW's resident "cougar" totters into view on impossibly high stiletto heels. Jodee Burwick has an extremely irritated expression on her face as she shakily walks over and takes a seat beside him, her micro skirt riding distractingly high up one shapely thigh.] JB: What are you doing up here? I would have thought that after all the garbage that went down earlier tonight that you would have been trashing our dressing room or hunting down those morons, Carmazzi and LeBlanc! [Burwick's angry tirade is heated and shrill as Dorado simply leans back further in his seat and sighs heavily.] JB: Are you listening to me? What's wrong with you?! [When Dorado finally responds, his voice sounds a little strained through swollen and split lips.] ND: I'm... I'm just a little tired, honey. And a little sore... [Despite himself, Dorado's trademark grin sneaks back into place as his gold-capped incisors become clearly visible.] ND: ...but I'm still "Golden"! [He chuckles as Burwick stares at him in disbelief.] JB: What? How can you say that! You *LOST*, Nolan! Don't you remember? Those clowns stole your moment of glory from you!! [Dorado shakes his head from side to side in denial, wincing as his jaw brushes up against the ice pack.] ND: Defeat doesn't finish a man, Jodee Ñ- quit does. A man is not finished when he's defeated. He's finished when he quits. [Burwick's confusion grows as a trace of alarm can be seen on her face.] JB: That doesn't sound like you! What are you saying?! ND: Of course it doesn't sound like me, babe. I didn't say it first... Richard Nixon did. JB: You're worrying me, Nolan. Are you suffering from a concussion? Why would you be quoting "Tricky Dicky" all of a sudden?? [Dorado chuckles.] ND: I'm fine, babe. Or... I will be. [Another wince as Dorado adjusts himself in his seat.] ND: But I'm not finished... far from it. I thought of that Nixon quote because I was sittin' up here thinkin'... and I realized that I could look at this little setback like it was the end of the world. Or I could open my eyes just a little bit wider and realize... I accomplished something tonight. I've taken several steps further down the path of my destiny. And my shining golden moment is now a little bit closer. JB: I don't get it. You tapped out, remember? [Dorado touches the ice pack, his eyes focused on his recent past rather than the visual images in front of him.] ND: Oh... I remember all right. That's the second time I've lost a match to that damned Kimura. But... did you see what happened before that, Jodee? [Dorado turns to face his (much) older girlfriend and a look of pleased satisfaction can be seen on his bruised and battered face.] ND: Did you see the Tornado DDT that I nailed on LeBlanc? I was about to get plastered by a DVD but I got him instead! And that moonsault off the cage? That's gonna be on the highlight reel, babe, I guarantee it! [Dorado's excitement is countered by Burwick's sheepishness masked by bitter anger.] JB: I'm sorry, honey. I didn't get to see your match. Those damned security guards hauled me off backstage and I couldn't even find a monitor on which I could watch the show! [Dorado's smile fades.] ND: You... you didn't see it? JB: I'm sorry, baby. It's that damned LeBlanc's fault! Him and his damned court order!! [Dorado's disappointment is quickly hidden as he fidgets in his seat once more and looks down at the floor of the arena where the segments of the steel cage are now being carted away.] ND: Yeah... I guess that little ploy didn't work so well, did it? [Burwick looks crestfallen as she folds her arms across her ample chest and slumps back in her own seat.] JB: So... now what? [Dorado's grin returns once more and those few lights remaining glitter in reflections of off the golden caps on his teeth.] ND: We keep doing what we always do, baby. We shine... we shine and glitter just like all things golden do! [Dorado continues to stare off in the distance, seemingly lost in contemplation as Burwick harrumphs in disgust and sulks in her chair. After a moment, the scene slowly fades to black. Cut back to Ditka in the studio.] DD: In the end, Vinny Carmazzi avenged the attack by Dorado that may have cost him the main event at Wild Summer Night and the chance to capture the RCW Championship. But neither Dorado nor Leblanc should feel any shame not to have walked out of the cage with the win under their belts. All three of these men have the brightest of futures here in RCW, and I for one can't wait to see what happens next. All three will be in action on RAMPAGE next Thursday night -- stay tuned to find out who they'll be facing. When we come back, we'll conclude our run-down of Wild Summer Night, and look ahead to RAMPAGE. [Fade to commercials.] [Fade back to the studio, where Ditka is still seated in front of the plasma screen.] DD: Welcome back to On The Wire! We've talked about seven of the nine blockbuster matches that made Wild Summer Night such an incredible night of wrestling action -- but we've left the best until last. The night's main event pitted RCW Champion Johnny Pleasence against number one contender "Pistol" Paul Driscoll in a long-awaited battle. [Cut to footage captioned, "16 JULY 2006". With match official Juan Morales knocked out in the ring, Driscoll grabs Pleasence, brings him to his feet, and hoists him up for a suplex... then shifts him in mid-air and brings him down hard with a brainbuster! Big pop! The champion is reeling as Driscoll drags him to his feet, whips him against the ropes, and then hefts him up onto his shoulders. The crowd pops huge! We hear the original commentary:] DD: DEATH VALLEY DRIVER! DEATH VALLEY DRIVER! [Driscoll brings Pleasence *crashing* down to the canvas, and makes the cover... but there's no official to make the count! The crowd chants the pinfall they wish they could see:] "ONE! TWO! THREE!" [Driscoll looks up, and Morales is still motionless. He stands, and goes over to the official... and meanwhile, Matilda rolls into the ring, clutching a steel chair! The crowd yells at Driscoll to turn around, and he does, just as Matilda is bringing the chair up to swing it at him. Despite being rumbled, Matilda swings the chair at Driscoll anyway -- but the Texan catches it, and snatches it from her. He brandishes the chair himself, and the crowd cheers him on, encouraging him to take a swipe at her!] DD: Will Paul Driscoll strike Matilda with a steel chair?! How far will he go?! BS: He won't do it, Don, despite these fans encouraging him to do so! He's not that kind of man! SR: What a crock, Pukespeare. If Driscoll isn't willing to crack a chick's skull in order to get the strap, he doesn't want it nearly enough. Just ask yourself: WWJD? DD: WWJD? SR: "What Would Johnny Do?", you potato farmer! DD: I come from Illinois. SR: And they don't have potatoes in Illinois? [As Driscoll weighs up his options, he is unaware that Johnny Pleasence has got unsteadily to his feet behind the Texan. Matilda slides from the ring, and Driscoll watches her grab a *second* steel chair, and toss it over his head. Driscoll wheels around, just as Pleasence grabs the steel chair, and brings it crashing down on Driscoll's head! Huge heel pop!] DD: My *God*! What a chair shot! Driscoll has got to be out! [Driscoll lies on the canvas as Pleasence grabs the chair dropped by Driscoll and unfolds it in the corner of the ring. He takes the other -- now rather malformed -- steel chair and lays it in the centre of the ring. The fans buzz in anticipation of what the Big Bad is going to do. Pleasence grabs Driscoll, and hoists him up on his shoulders.] DD: Is Pleasence going for the Manchester Driver, his own version of the Death Valley driver? [But Pleasence doesn't immediately drop Driscoll with his Manchester Driver. Instead, he steps up onto the steel chair in the corner of the ring, Driscoll still on his shoulders, and then puts one foot up on the middle turnbuckle, and then puts his other foot on the top turnbuckle... and as cameras flash all over the arena, Pleasence executes a Manchester Driver *from the top rope*, bringing Driscoll crashing down with tremendous force on the steel chair lying in the middle of the ring! Deafening, roof-raising heel pop!] DD: MY GOD! MY GOD! "HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT!" DD: MY GOD! Pleasence just executed the Manchester Driver all the way from the top rope -- right onto a steel chair! BS: But the official's still down! [Pleasence rolls Driscoll off the steel chair and shoves it out of the ring as Matilda shakes Morales from the arena floor to rouse him. Morales stirs, and sees Pleasence covering Driscoll in front of him. Weakly, he lifts his arm, and lets it hit the mat... ...1!] DD: No! Not like this! [Morales lifts his hand a second time, as the fans in the arena continue to boo and jeer Pleasence... 2!] DD: Come on, Driscoll! Come on! [Morales lifts his hand a third time... 3!] * DING! DING! DING! * [As Pleasence takes the title belt from Matilda, a trickle of blood running down his nose and dropping onto the gold plate, we hear Ditka's voice-over once more.] DD: Paul Driscoll came close -- so, so close -- to taking the RCW Championship from Johnny Pleasence, without doubt the most hated man in Portland right now. But in the end Pleasence pulled out a victory -- and then went and tainted it by having his cohorts, Ryan Faith and Dave Bryant, run in to attack Driscoll, adding insult to injury. Thank heavens, then, for Mark Coleman, who came to the aid of Driscoll before Pleasence's crew could inflict any further damage. But Coleman may well have now put himself in Pleasence's sights -- more on that later on. [Cut back to Ditka in the studio.] DD: With the main event in the books, all that was left for this most wildest of wild summer nights was the unsanctioned Lights Out match between Owen "Truth" Curtis and the legendary "Lone Wolf" Brody Thunder. Thunder had announced that, win or lose, he would retire after the match -- and every fan in the Rose Garden was praying for one more win chalked up for the Arizona native by way of redemption for the man whose life had been turned into a living hell by the Curtis brothers over the preceding several months. The Curtises had attacked Thunder over and over again, forced their way into his marital home, alleged that he had an illegitimate son, and apparently driven such a wedge between Thunder and his wife Tamara that she had left him -- for Eddie Curtis! The stakes were high as can be going into this match. [Cut to footage captioned, "16 JULY 2006". Thunder and Curtis make their way, both dressed in t-shirts and jeans. Thunder has his way with Curtis, busting him open early, and whipping him repeatedly with his belt. Tamara Thunder arrives at ringside with Eddie Curtis, and Curtis hands a box to Curtis -- containing hundreds of flashbulbs, which Owen pours all over the canvas. Both men are slammed onto the glass, shards piercing their skin. Thunder binds Curtis's arms to the ropes with a pair of belts, and then takes a steel chair to the "Truth". The "Lone Wolf" then turns his attention to Eddie Curtis on the outside, slamming him to the exposed concrete of the arena floor! Only when Tamara enters the ring and grabs a microphone does Thunder pause the carnage:] TT: Brody... Brody, stop! [The crowd hushes as Thunder stands bolt upright, and turns around -- to see his wife standing in the middle of the ring, holding a microphone! We hear the original commentary:] DD: Tamara Thunder has something to say! TT: Brody, listen -- please, just listen to me. I have something very important to tell you. [Thunder stands on the arena floor, staring up at his wife. He wipes blood from his face with his right arm and listens. Behind Tamara in the ring, Owen Curtis's head is slumped to one side, the "Truth" apparently silenced for now.] TT: Brody, I know we've been having our problems. I know we've not spent much time together over the past couple of months. I know you feel like we've been drifting apart -- but I need you to listen to me, and not judge me. [Thunder gives the slightest nod as he continues to listen to his wife.] TT: Last night... last night, I partied with Owen and Eddie Curtis and their frat boys. [Huge heel pop from the fans! Tamara Thunder's face turns a bright shade of red.] SR: Whoo-hoo! Spit roast at the frat house! That's what the Soundbite is talking about! DD: Steve Roberts, why do you always have to assume the worst of everybody? SR: That way I'm rarely disappointed, baby dolls! DD: That's sad -- but let's hear Tamara Thunder out. [On the outside, Brody looks down, apparently not able to look at his wife. Tamara struggles to be heard over the din of the shocked fans.] TT: No, wait! Brody, wait! Listen! [And suddenly crackly audio is heard, amplified by the microphone... the voices are those of Owen Curtis and Eddie Curtis.] EC: "That's not Logan Thunder... that's Logan 'Thunder' Curtis! My little brother!" OC: "You mean, my little brother's little brother?" EC: "Yeah!" OC: "Boy, how dumb is Thunder to have believed *that*?!" [Big heel pop from the crowd! Brody looks up at the ring, and sees that Tamara Thunder is holding a little pocket tape recorder against the microphone.] EC: "It's just been too easy, my bro. Too damn easy to put one over on Thunder!" OC: "And how hot is his wife, anyway?" EC: "Oh, she is *sweet*, Owen. I'd love to tap that ass -- but she's a real cold fish." OC: "You just don't have the moves of your big brother, Eddie my man!" EC: "Oh yeah?! You struck out, too!" [Big pop from the fans. A smile starts to play on the face of Brody Thunder, and he looks up at his wife, whose face is still red, but she also allows herself to smile again.] DD: Well, folks, now we know why Tamara Thunder has been smiling to herself all evening -- she has played Owen and Eddie Curtis like the proverbial fiddles! BS: Tamara hasn't cheated on Brody with either of the Curtis brothers! DD: I never doubted her! SR: No "Tamara does Tau Kappa Phi" video to leak onto the Internet? Won't somebody think of the Soundbite?! Won't somebody please think of the Soundbite?! DD: And more importantly -- Logan Thunder was never Brody's son! He's yet another damn Curtis brother! BS: That certainly explains the blond hair! [Brody Thunder now rolls into the ring, and stands before Tamara, who slips the tape recorder back into her pocket. Brody Thunder speaks to his wife -- the microphone in her hand now by her side doesn't pick up the words, but as the estranged couple embrace in the middle of the ring, no words are necessary. Huge pop from the crowd! We hear Ditka's voice-over:] DD: So Thunder and his wife, at least, were reconciled -- but could Thunder secure his ultimate redemption, by beating Owen Curtis so badly that he couldn't answer the referee's ten-count? [Owen Curtis frees himself from the belts that bind him, and charges the Thunders, knocking Tamara from the ring, causing her to be stretchered out. Curtis, meanwhile, brutally attacks Thunder, crushing his neck with a steel chair. Thunder somehow beats the count, pulling the chair away from his head, and rolls onto his side. Bright raises his arms in the air, to signal that Thunder has answered the count.] DD: Thunder's not out of this match yet -- but, my God, Billy Shakespeare, look at Thunder's face! [Brody Thunder's bloodied face was in a bad way before... but this is a whole different kind of bad way. One of Thunder's eyes is bloodshot and swelling closed, his nose is busted open, and the cuts on his forehead show no signs of slowing their bleeding.] DD: How in God's name is Brody Thunder even conscious after that vicious legdrop, Billy Shakespeare?! BS: The "Lone Wolf" is tougher than the toughest, Don! [Curtis, growing frustrated, grabs Thunder and brings him back to his feet, sending him to the ropes. The Truth sticks his head down, expecting to backdrop Thunder right back down onto the broken glass -- but the cowboy sees Curtis with his head down, and meets him with a kick to the head. Curtis is staggered, and Thunder grabs him, slings his arm over his shoulder... and then, somehow, against all odds, hoists Curtis up into the air in position for a vertical suplex... ...and then brings him crashing down with a DDT! The roof threatens to come off the Rose Garden!] DD: WIDOWMAKER! WIDOWMAKER! WIDOWMAKER! BS: The most famous signature maneouvre in Brody Thunder's arsenal, and he pulls it off -- out of nowhere! SR: Damn! Damn that Thunder! Get up, Curtis! [Both men lie in the ring, Thunder's chest heaving, blood running down his face, Curtis lies on his belly, his head turned sideways, blood trickling down *his* face, his blond hair a macabre pink, broken glass digging into his cheek. And Jim Bright puts the count on both men!] "ONE!" DD: Come on, Thunder! Curtis is done! All you have to do is stand up! "TWO!" BS: Neither man is moving! "THREE!" DD: Just listen to these fans! "FOUR!" SR: Come on, Curtis! "FIVE!" DD: Brody Thunder is lying there, a bloody mess -- and Curtis hasn't fared much better! "SIX!" DD: What an absolutely brutal match this has been! "SEVEN!" BS: We're heading for a double count-out! "EIGHT!" [And as Bright's count nears its end, one of the men in the ring stirs!] "NINE!" [The crowd pops like crazy as one of the two men pulls himself to his knees using the ropes!] "TEN!" [The crowd is absolutely beside itself, making so much noise that it's impossible to hear anything... and Bright moves over to the man who has managed to stir, and raises his arm... ...the arm belonging to...] DD: OWEN CURTIS HAS DONE IT! OWEN CURTIS BEAT THE COUNT! [After the Curtis brothers beat their retreat, Thunder wipes some blood from his face, his right eye now more or less swollen shut, even his moustache stained with blood from his busted nose and the many cuts on his forehead. But he is standing! Brody Thunder is standing, and the fans in the Rose Garden continue to pay tribute to him. A chant starts to grow in volume:] "PLEASE DON'T GO! PLEASE DON'T GO! PLEASE DON'T GO! PLEASE DON'T GO!" [Thunder continues to stand in the ring, drinking in the chants of the twenty-thousand-strong crowd in the Rose Garden, turning his head to look at the fans on their feet, as far as the eye can see. And then there is a huge pop, as a figure emerges into the aisle.] DD: It's Tamara Thunder! Tamara Thunder is coming out here! [Indeed she is. Walking gingerly, still with Thunder's blood staining her clothes, Tamara is making her way back down the aisle to rejoin her husband in the ring. The fans applaud her as she climbs the ringsteps and enters the ring, going to her husband's side. It is not until she gently places a hand on the small of his back that he even seems to notice her arrival.] DD: They say that behind every great man is an even greater woman -- and Tamara Thunder has shown herself to be a truly great woman here tonight! [The camera zooms in on Tamara and Brody standing in the ring. Brody's left eye appears wet, and as he blinks, a single tear makes a track through the drying blood on his cheek. The camera is close enough to pick up Tamara's words to her husband:] TT: Let's go home, Brody. [And together, man and wife move to the ropes, Thunder leaning on his wife as she helps him down the ringsteps, and they slowly make their way up the aisle, the fans still on their feet, applauding and chanting:] "PLEASE DON'T GO! PLEASE DON'T GO! PLEASE DON'T GO! PLEASE DON'T GO!" [But Tamara and Brody have to go. They slowly make their way up the aisle, Tamara with her arm around her husband's waist, guiding his uncertain steps. Cut back to Ditka in the studio.] DD: Folks, I don't mind telling you that I was genuinely moved by the reunion of Brody and Tamara Thunder -- but what a sad end to Thunder's incredible career, to be defeated by Owen Curtis in that fashion. And if you thought Owen Curtis was insufferable before he retired Brody Thunder... boy oh boy, I'm sure we've not seen anything yet. What a great end to a great night of wrestling action. [The screen behind Ditka now shows a still of the bloodied faces of Owen and Eddie Curtis as they back away from ringside.] DD: Curtis certainly didn't look like a winner on his way out of Wild Summer Night -- but just look at him now. [The scene shifts to a completely black environment, where a single light coming from somewhere illuminates the sole subject in the room -- Owen "Truth" Curtis. A large Band-Aid covers the biggest of his remaining gashes from his match against Brody Thunder of one month ago. His dirty blond hair gleams in the beam, but the pensive look on his stubble-covered face doesn't give away much. One thing is for sure. He is seated in a backwards-facing chair, dressed to the nines in a charcoal gray pinstriped suit, with blue oxford shirt and black silk necktie. After giving us time to take this all in, he shifts his head, and speaks.] OWEN "TRUTH" CURTIS: Let's get it out of the way. Let's do that ... _right now_. Logan Thunder was not really Brody Thunder's son. I said he was, but in fact, Logan is my little brother, Logan "Thunder" Curtis, who's about to enter college. [He nods, as if conceding a point.] OTC: In other words ... the Truth ... lied. [He smiles sympathetically towards the viewer, but the smile disappears as if there's a catch to it.] OTC: But if you ask me, and you most definitely should, being that I _am_ the Truth, then when I lied ... it was justified. You Republicans out there should understand this. You Democrats, too. You see, I did what you do all the time. [He pauses, looking down with a smirk.] OTC: I lied ... in the service of a larger Truth. And that Truth was, that I was going to destroy the career of the great "Lone Wolf" Brody Thunder, and I did it. All it took was that little suggestion to break his will, shake his confidence, and instill doubts. The mind games set up the physical game. Don't you love it when a plan comes together? The man you saw at Wild Summer Night came in ... ready to leave wrestling. He came in conceding defeat. [He shifts to a tone that's almost admiring. Almost.] OTC: Don't get me wrong. He said he was ready to fight, and he kept his word. We fought hard. Put on one hell of a show. We smashed each other with everything we could get our hands on. Chairs, leather belts, a steel rod, dozens of flash bulbs made of glass and wire. Blood was everywhere. But when it came time to stand up and answer the final count ... I did and he didn't. Brody Thunder may have landed the final move in the match -- the so-called deadly Widowmaker -- yet it was the Truth who stood tall at the end. [Speaking proudly ... ] OTC: In the battle of wills ... I defeated Brody Thunder, and destroyed a legend, thereby adding great weight to my own. You've seen him. You've heard him. And you saw what I did. You know as well as I. The Lone Wolf ... will never, EVER be back. Ever. And the reason ... is me. [He shifts in his chair.] OTC: I bring this up, not to brag -- though I _should_ brag -- but because it needs to be gotten out of the way. I will make no mention of it, none at all, at the next episode of RCW RAMPAGE, on Aug. 17, live from the Rose Garden. In fact, I'm certain all of you noticed something when you were looking at the scheduled card. Namely, I wasn't listed. Look up it, look down it, and you will see that I'm not booked to be at RAMPAGE at all! Is _this_ my reward for drawing pay per view buys, for being the greatest technical talent in RCW and the biggest star around here? Is _this_ what I deserve for making such great sacrifices as I have? Dan Spreadbury sure doesn't like having his cherished legends destroyed, does he? [He lets that question hang. Then he comes back with force.] OTC: Well, make no mistake. I will *be* at RCW RAMPAGE. You see there are ... _objectives_ ... that remain unmet. And there remain cards ... that are as yet unplayed. So my suggestion is, enjoy this last week of peace that you have, Dan -- peace from battle or peace of mind, as the case may be. You're going to look back upon it with fondness. After the bomb I plan to drop next Thursday night, Rip City ... is going to be torn, shall we say. [He takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly ...] OTC: I will say nothing more. Just remember ... you have nothing to fear ... but the Truth. [He chuckles to himself.] OTC: Ha. I like that. [We focus on the mischievous grin on his face. Then the light that was illuminating Owen Curtis in this dark, dark room dims out, and the screen goes black. Cut back to the studiom where the plasma screen behind Ditka shows a DVD box with the Wild Summer Night logo on it, the faces of Thunder, Curtis, Pleasence, and Driscoll beneath it.] DD: Don't forget, folks, you can relive Wild Summer Night at home any time you like with this DVD from RCW Home Video. It goes on sale on Monday, 4th September -- pre-order your copy now from www.ripcitywrestling.com. When we come back, we'll look ahead to next Thursday night's RAMPAGE, the first live wrestling in Portland for nearly five weeks. Don't go away! [Fade to commercials.] [Fade back from commercials.] ___ ______ __ / _ \/ ___/ | /| / / / , _/ /__ | |/ |/ / >< >< >< >< >< RAMPAGE RUNDOWN >< >< >< >< >< /_/|_|\___/ |__/|__/ [Ditka is still seated at his glass-topped desk, the RAMPAGE logo on the plasma screen behind him.] DD: Welcome back, folks. In just seven days, RCW returns to the Rose Garden in beautiful downtown Portland with the first RAMPAGE since Wild Summer Night. And what a night of action it's going to be -- let's run down the card. [The screen behind Ditka shows the faces of Johnny Pleasence and Vinny Carmazzi, with the words "RCW CHAMPIONSHIP" between them.] DD: RCW Champion Johnny Pleasence has demanded another title defence right away, straight off the back of his win over Paul Driscoll at Wild Summer Night -- and the man he demanded be granted a shot is none other than Vinny Carmazzi, the twelve-year veteran who has never competed for a world title in his entire career. What an opportunity for Carmazzi, who was so impressive against Nolan Dorado and Orin LeBlanc in the steel cage at Wild Summer Night. Pleasence is determined to show that he's in a different class to everybody else in RCW -- could he possibly be underestimating Carmazzi, the perennial underdog? We'll find out, one week from tonight! Let's hear from both of the men in this match, beginning with the challenger. [The scene is the McCall Waterfront Park in Portland. It's afternoon, with the sun shining brightly overhead and seemingly not a cloud in the sky. The camera pans across the lush grass and abundant trees until it stops on a wooden bench. On it sits a man. One leg folded up on the seat. The other outstretched into the walkway. One arm laid across the back. The other laying lazily across his lap. The man sprawled out on the bench has a look that could be seen as relaxed. Almost contented. It doesn't look right. If not for the long, stringy dirty-blonde hair and dark eyes, you wouldn't know it was Vinny Carmazzi. It might be the temperature which is in the mid-80's, but his brown eyes almost seem to be warming up.] VC: Feds usually take a break after a big Pay-Per-View. For those brought in as "enhancement talent" it was always a time to go somewhere else. Search for an opportunity. A chance. Rarely paid off, so a Pay-Per-View always meant you best hit the road. As soon as you could, 'cause there was nothing left where you were. [The outstretched leg starts to move a little, but stops.] VC: And that's what it's been like for the last 12 years. The time between the big show and the next show was the time I had to find work elsewhere. You know how I am with too much time off. Besides, you don't think about survival. You just do it. [He looks to the side, as if the memories of those dark days were right there but just off-camera.] VC: But this last time was different. I was ON the big show. [His eyes perk up, almost an expression of shock.] VC: WON the big match! [The memory of the No Escape cage match replacing the haunting ones just prior.] VC: And THEN I find out that on the very next show, I get a shot at the biggest prize there is. The RCW HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP!! [A look of pure amazement crosses Vinny's face. A part of him knows he can wake up at any time.] VC: Usually, the time after a Pay-Per-View was for packing up and finding a territory that would take me. Hopefully, one that had never heard of me before. One that didn't know my reputation and would give me a shot. Had to do it fast. Every day without was one without an income, a place to live, or food on the table. But more. Those were the days without hope. Or a reason for being. [Even on a cloudless day, Vinny knows to bring his own. After 12 years of desperation, he is unable to just let there be a silver lining.] VC: So this is the fiirst time I actually stuck around. A big win. Not just that, but no hospital stay to speak of. No bookings until mid-August. No preparations. No insomnia....well, less of it at least. Nothing wrestling-related on my plate for at least a little while. [Usually a situation like that drives Carmazzi into a panic. But now, not even a twitch.] VC: This is the first time I ever tried to enjoy my time off. Think back and try to piece together how everything has turned out. A few months ago, I never would have imagined being under contract to the greatest wrestling league in the world. Never would have imagined being in headline matches of cards with legends on them. Never imagined the opportunities I've gotten. Never imagined the incredible winning streak I had. Back in January, none of this could have ever seemed possible. [A disbelieving Carmazzi can only shake his head.] VC: And the best may still be yet to come. A title. And not just any title. The RCW Championship. [He places the formerly outstretched hand on his forehead. Everything used to seem so real, until now.] VC: After 29 years on this earth, 12 years in this cutthroat business, still can't make any sense of this. If anyone asked me to explain how all of this happened, I'd stare at them in silence. Can't even begin to give the answer. [His eyes reveal that he's trying, but the efforts come up unproductive. It seems like after 12 years of abject failure, it's the only thing at which he has not been successful in recent months.] VC: All I know is that the best opportunity I have ever had will take place next week. The chance to win something I've always wanted. Always dreamed of. I can have it if I just grab on. [Enough time spent in the past. The fire and intensity return to Carmazzi's dark eyes. He looks down and can picture Pleasence's arm trapped in his. He visibly pulls back with everything he has. All that he has to lose. All he has to gain.] VC: And never let go. [He remains focused on the imaginary arm. Perhaps he hears tapping as well. Followed by an announcement over the PA system that he's dreamed of a million times before.] VC: Because I've come WAY TOO FAR.... [His body tenses up again as he leans toward the camera.] VC: ....and I won't fail now. [As he stands up to leave, we wipe-cut to darkness.] V: I've got nothing to say about Driscoll. [The camera fades in on a candle illuminating the area as Johnny Pleasence, the RCW World Champion, leans ever so slightly into the shot...] JP: You're asking me why I did it -- why I did what I did -- why, when I _pinned_ Paul Driscoll for the one-two-three... why I proceeded to attack him with my mates? [Pleasence blows out the candle, and flicks on the lights, revealing your typical locker room setting. The Big Bad himself is clad in a black t-shirt and black jeans with the World Title on his shoulder, looking fairly content.] JP: Because I _could_. Any other man would be content with merely standing in that ring with their head held high, having defeated the man that many thought would usurp him... but me? _No_. I know that _this_- [Pleasence holds up the RCW World Title.] JP: -this is a _bullseye_. I _know_ that I'm a marked man, so you can all bloody well _bring it_. And I know something else... _I won't stop_. This is only the beginning, children. If you thought that what happened at Wild Summer Night was a "travesty"? Just wait. I haven't even _started_. [The Big Bad smirks.] JP: But... the _truth_ takes time, doesn't it? Why I'm doing all of this... it's just not clear, is it? Bollocks to that. Let's deal with what we have in front of us, shall we? Vinny Carmazzi. The ultimate lit'le wrestler that _could_... but never _has_. The man that _finally_ has his shot at greatness... and the man that's gonna have all his dreams and aspirations _crushed_. How do you think this is going to end, Vinny? Do you think you're going to come "oh so close" to winning _my_ title? Do you think that you'll be seconds away- just _seconds_ away from winning _my World Title_? What do you think is going to happen, Vinny? Do you think you're going to give it you're all? Well, I'm sure you will, mate. You're going to cut every corner, you're to break every rule you can, and you're going to do whatever it takes in order to put my shoulders to the mat. You're going to listen to every cheer and chant... you're going to take it all inside and turn it into a boatload of fire and passion, and you know what? You're going to _fail_. Why? Well... I will _destroy_ you. Because... well, that's just my specialty, old son. [The Big Bad pauses to light a cigarette.] JP: It's a fact, mate. As true as the air you breathe... it's just what I do. You see, _Vinny_... I'm not a nice man. Never have been. Never gave a damn about anyone in my way... but, somehow, some way... folks forgot that. Folks like... Dan Spreadbury, Danny Daniels, that LeBlanc fellow, Paul Driscoll... hell, even the new "goldenboy" himself, Mark Coleman... they've all forgotten just what the _Big Bad_ truly is. I'm going to _make_ you all remember just what _fear_ is... and this time? There's going to be even _more_ blood, and I? I'm going to get _all_ the glory that this title _deserves_. That, children... that is a fact that I -- [The Big Bad exhales.] JP: -- I will _not_ be denied. [Cut back to the studio. The screen behind Ditka now shows the faces of Mark Coleman and Ryan Faith.] DD: Tennessee rookie Mark Coleman will face Ryan Faith, as he tries to run the gauntlet and earn a match against RCW Champion Johnny Pleasence. Pleasence has vowed that Coleman can only earn a match for the belt if he can defeat both Faith and Bryant -- and that suits Coleman just fine. Coleman was facing Faith several months ago when he was blindsided by Akitoshi Ogawa, thus setting in motion the chain of events that led to Coleman defeating the former King of the Deathmatch at Wild Summer Night. Now Coleman has the opportunity to put his career well and truly back on track... and test his Faith! [Cut to Dinah and Ryan Faith. Ryan sits in front of his locker, taping up his wrists twearing a black T-shirt with "Got Faith?" written in bold white print and a pair of shredded up, jean shorts. Dinah stands behind him... hand on his shoulder... wearing a aqua colored bikini top and really, really tight ass matching velour pants.. god I love women... I mean... anyhow.. Ryan sits there, continuously flipping his shaggy, brown hair out of his face. Dinah leans over and whispers a few things to Ryan before he turns his attention to the camera.] RF: What would you like me to say, huh? [shrugs] RF: I went out and did exactly what I said I was going to do. I mean, where's Marley now? Because the last time I checked he wasn't in the RCW anymore. Hell, it must suck for all of those who have fallen to me before. But he should have seen it coming. I mean, I told him what I was going to do to him. I told all of you what I was going to do to him. But no one wanted to believe me. We still had those people that wanted to hate me because of the things I say or the things I do. [smirks] RF: I'll tell you this much.. no one... [pounds his fist against the locker door.] RF: .... NO ONE HAS BEEN ABLE TO TAME ME YET, RCW. NO ONE! [Ryan stops... shakes his head as he composes himself.] RF: I mean, it was sad to see what became of Marley. All his bravado, all his talk... amounting to his getting his ass kicked and where is he now? [Faith pretends to look around the room.] RF: Wait.. is that... no.. not him. Oh darn, I guess Marley really has left the building. I mean, it was only a matter of time. It was ironic that when the lights came on and the music started to play.... that the Showtime ended when Ryan Faith entered the ring and then continued to decimate the no talent hack. But it wasn't like we didn't all see it coming. It had been building up for months. Hell, it's been building up since I got back from my little vacation I took after my dad's death. Week in and week out, the only person you've all seen in a RCW ring has been me. No one else. [Ryan sits there tightening the tapes on his wrists.] RF: Everyone was talking about Madrock and I put him in his place. Driscoll, he woulda has his given to him if JP didn't have a plan for him already. I have two things that I am disgusted with myself about, Mark. [Raises a finger] RF: I let myself get out of sorts against Driscoll and didn't give him the ass beating that he deserved. [Raises another finger] RF: And two, that I didn't drop you right on your head like you sorely deserved it. You don't want to fight me, Coleman. You don't even probably think you should be fighting me. You look at me as some stepping stone to get to JP. And I'm sure some people are looking at me and thinking that I'm gonna stand around and weaken you up for JP. [Ryan just chuckles.] RF: Don't look past me, boy. Don't set your sights on that shiny gold just yet. That gold will blind you. There are only so many things in life that are certain. You can count on the sun rising every day and it setting every night. You can count on that and nothing else. But there is so much that lies behind the sun that raises, Mark. You see, the truth is like the sun.. you can not look directly at it without being burnt. You can not go one on one against me, and not me burnt. You had your fair warning. You had your cheap DQ win over me before. Not again. Not ever. You think you're ready to become the RCW champion. I have a better question for you. [slams the locker room door and stands up abruptly] RF: You ready to test your faith? [We wipe-cut to the Rose Garden arena. It's summer in Portland, but for once, the sun is shining. The parking lot is empty, save for a few cars scattered about haphazardly. The camera zooms in and focuses on one car in particular. This one, the closest to the Rose Garden, has definitely seen better days. It's a 2002 dark blue Chevrolet Cavalier, with the standards dings, dents, and one scratch near the back driver's side wheel well. We can assume the hood of the car, though, is strong and sturdy. Mainly because it's supporting the weight of one Mark Coleman. Coleman sits on the hood of the car, his feet resting on the front bumper. He's clad in a pair of grey Nike sneakers, blue jeans, and a red t-shirt. The big Tennessee native looks at the camera, but the RCW faithful notice something that may come as a bit of a shock to them. Coleman, the easy-going, cocky, sure-footed Southerner, seems to be looking for words. He starts to say something, but then stops. The camera seems to linger on him, almost uncomfortablt, as Coleman says a few unintelligable words before falling silent again. Finally, one deep breath later, he finally gets something out] MC: Damned if I know what exactly to say. Sittin' here right now with absolutely every idea in the history of the world to talk about. Got a promo show in a few days, and supposed to talk about my win over Akitoshi Ogawa a month ago at Wild Summer night. A win, I'd like to point out, I told everyone I was gonna earn. But beyond that lil' bit of braggin', I got nothin' else to focus on. Part of me wants to talk about how hard fought our submission match. Part of me wants to talk about how good it felt gettin' my hands on one Zeke Brackett and planting his sorry butt with the Southern Cross Bomb. And part of me just wants to sit here and gloat a little bit over proving to Ogawa that, one-on-one, face-to-face, man-to-man, he couldn't beat me. Problem is, can't focus on just one topic of conversation. I lean towards one, and then get pulled right back towards another, and then back again before headin' on to the third. And I don't think we got enough sponsors yet to let me ramble on like a New England Democrat for hours on end about nothin' in particular. Put simply...I'm overwhelmed. Had to sum it all up, though? [Coleman is silent for a moment. He does look to be contemplating what to say. Finally, after a bit, his easy-going smile becomes evident] MC: Had to sum it all up, have to say that victory sure is nice. That's what it all boils down to. I did what I said what I was gonna do at Wild Summer Night, and that was beat Akitoshi Ogawa at his own game. Wasn't easy, wasn't a cakewalk, and wasn't somethin' I'd care to wring myself through a second time. In the end, though? Victory. Mark Coleman went and hit the pay window for that big pay-per-view windfall. Ogawa...and even you, Brackett...gave me a nice fight. Good tussle back there. So listen up close as I say this. You two are good. And I pity anyone who's gotta take you two on in the future. But you're not as good as Mark Coleman. Got the victory to prove it. [Coleman nods, more to himself then anyone else, and his smile gets wider] MC: Wow. Wasn't so hard once I started talkin'. Gotta keep that in mind. Well, since I'm on a roll here, let's move on to the big return of RCW next Saturday night. Mainly, let's get around to a guy who was around when the whole Akitoshi Ogawa mess kicked off. Let's get around to one Ryan Faith. [Coleman puts his hand together, and starts to crack his knuckles as he continues to speak] MC: I mentioned during the lead-up to Wild Summer Night that Ogawa interrupted our very first match back in the spring, and that during the six-man main event a few weeks back, you and I had a bit of unfinished business. I hate leaving things incomplete, and getting my hands on you during that matchup went a good ways towards finishing up what we started. Now, though, at Rampage, to kick the RCW off again in style, me and you are gonna definitely settle all bets. Gonna go out on a short limb here, Ryan, and bet five-to-one you don't give a damn about our first match. Bet all you, Bryant, and that chump Pleasance are thinkin' about what the hell to do now that Mark Coleman's headin' in your direction. Hell, I'll step just a little bit more out onto that limb and say Pleasance doesn't give a possum fart about me, instead thinkin' about how the RCW and the world's screwin' him over this week. Look at it a little different myself. The way I see it, Ryan, I had you that first time out. You were dead to rights three seconds away from bein' planted for the pin. Basically, and it ain't any fault of your own, you got lucky. You escaped with a DQ and could go right along with Pleasance and his Merry Man, Dave Bryant. And that brings it back to next Rampage. Because, Faith, I shouldn't have to step into the ring with you. Not because I think you're an inferior wrestler, not at all. You're young, quick, intense, and someone I ain't overlookin'. But I should already have that check mark next to my name, and when the suits look at Mark Coleman, and look at Johnny Pleasance, and think about the money match that'll happen when I rip that RCW title away from him and put it around the waist of a worthy champion, namely myself, they shouldn't have to think "well, maybe we should make Coleman wrestle Ryan Faith and Dave Bryant. You know, because he needs to prove himself." I don't need to prove myself against you, Faith. Because of Ogawa, my chance to whip you got taken away. And that puts me JUST a little further away from the thing every single guy in the RCW wants, and that's the RCW Heavyweight championship. So...guess all that means, then, Faith, is I gotta spend this Rampage beatin' you from pillar to post and clear back again. Personally, ain't got no problem with that. It's a nice way to get back into the swing of things. Lookin' forward to it. See ya in a few days, Ryan. And be seein' you real soon, Johnny. [And, with one more big grin, we fade back to the studio. The screen now shows the faces of Nolan Dorado and Liam Cassidy.] DD: Narrowly defeated at Wild Summer Night, "Golden Boy" Nolan Dorado will go one-on-one against "The Jersey Drifter" Liam Cassidy, coming off the back of a victory over the legendary Lord Byron. How will the first hobo of wrestling fare against the hottest young high-flyer the sport has seen in a generation? One thing seems certain: Cassidy won't be sober. [Cut to the office of the esteemed RCW President, Daniel Spreadbury as he sits at his desk surrounded by papers. He's reading over one carefully when there's a buzz.] Assistant: Mr. Spreadbury, your two o'clock appointment is here. DS: My appointment? Judy, I don't have an appointment with anyone Judy: No, wait. You can't just... Please, sir, don't... DS: Judy? [There is a sound of slight comotion over the office intercom.] Voice: How's this work, press here? Heyyyyyyy lad. Breaker breaker, over. DS: Oh, it's Liam. Send him in. [Dan just shakes his head as he gets up from behind his desk to approach his door. A moment later, it is opened, and a weather beaten black fedora cap pokes through the doorway. It rests on the head of "The Jersey Drifter" Liam Cassidy.] LC: Anyone home? DS: Yes Liam, come on in. LC: Danny boy, how's the world treating ya? DS: Very well, thank you Liam. Please, have a seat. [The two shake hands and Liam flops himself down on the chair in front of the president's desk. Dan walks around the desk and seats himself at his own chair. Liam is clad in... well... His ring gear? Formal attire? It's rather hard to differentiate Mr. Cassidy's various wardrobes. He's wearing a pair of red corduroy pants and a white sleeveless undershirt. Overtop of that though is a fairly new looking plaid dress shirt, left unbuttoned.] LC: There's a good lad. So what can I do ya for bossman? They said you had to see me 'bout something. [Liam leans across the table to stare Dan in the eye.] LC: I ain't in trouble am I, cause I can explain. See, these fellers down at the train yard started flapping their gums about who could down the most rubby and things got out of hand when... DS: No no Liam, you're not in... wait. Rubby? LC: Sure lad, rubby. You know, rubbing alcohol. Poor man's Don Periogne. It gets you right fu.. DS: Okay, that's enough of that. [Dan shuffles the papers on his desk as he clears his throat. Liam sits back in the chair, slouching in it as he plays with his favorite dented silver flask.] DS: No Liam, the reason I've asked you to see me is because of your contract. [The hobo's eyes widen up as he sits straight up in the chair now. Dan picks up one of the papers off of his desk and begins to speak as his eyes run over the forms.] DS: Now your original contract with Rip City Wrestling was a conditional and provisional contract, to be reviewed at the end of a predetermined cycle or period of time. Given your performance at our first ever pay per view, I've decided to take your contract under review and neogotiate a more binding, long term commitment from you as a competitor and an intellectual property of RCW. Legally, I'm obligated to inform you that you have the right to seek professional consultation in the establishment of a new deal and you don't have to sign an agreement today should you choose to neogotiate a new contract at a later date in time. [The camera pans back over to Liam, sitting on the edge of his chair, black derby hat in his hands, and jaw dropped wide open.] LC: You... You're lettin' me go? DS: What? LC: All that legal mumbo jumbo, I've heard stuff like that right before they arrest someone or worse. Look Dan, boss, I don't know what I did, but I promise ya, I'll do what it takes. You don't understand what RCW and you have done for a drifter like me! Is it money? Cut my pay in half for all I care! Is it Jamie? I swear, I'll leave the lad alone! Is it the booze? [Panic sets into the Jersey Drifter's eyes. He looks down at the silver flask in his hand and he quickly tosses it over his shoulder, sending it sailing across the room and landing on the floor.] LC: ...cause I'll even quit drinking! DS: No, no Liam. You don't understand. We just need to reneogiate your contract. [Dan notices that doesn't do much to calm Mr. Cassidy's nerves.] DS: We want to give you more money Liam. LC: Ohh. DS: Although I'm glad you're going to quit drinking. [Liam leans back in his chair, the happy smirk returning. He digs into his pocket and pulls out a new black flask and quickly takes a swig.] LC: Yeah, that won't be happening. DS: What was that Liam? LC: Ah nothing. So more money you say? Where do I sign? [He grabs a pen off of Dan's desk and leans inwards to sign the new contract. Dan has to swipe it away before Liam can dot the I.] DS: Wait, don't you want to review the terms and conditions of your contract? Most wrestlers have agents that do this sort of thing for them Liam. It can be quite the burden sorting these things out. [The Drifter snatches the paper out of Dan's hand and finishes his signature.] LC: Here's the deal lad. I trust you. I don't know too much about what the other guys make, don't really care for it. All I know is that because of you and this promotion, I ain't sleeping on the streets, there's plenty of rum, and I'm happier than a pig in [BLEEP] about being a wrassler for RCW. It's been a bumpy ride so far on account of that Byron feller, but I wouldn't trade any of it in for the world. [Liam finishes signing the papers, and rises from his chair and places his battered black fedora back on his scruffy head.] LC: So if you think I'm good enough to keep around for a while longer, that works for me. My name is Liam Cassidy, as of recent, I'm a professional wrassler. Just try and knock the smile off my face. That's one thing thing will take a whole helluva lot longer than just one second. [As he makes his way for the door, Dan rises from his desk and follows Liam. Liam turns and faces the RCW president. He reaches out and adjusts Dan's tie, straightening it for him.] LC: Keep up the good work Danny boy, you're a helluva boss. Let's see some more shirts being made, maybe some of those beer cozies or something, and let's make ourselves a lotta money. How's that sound? DS: It's good with me Liam. LC: There's a lad. [Liam pats his boss on the shoulder and exits from the office. Dan grins, having just sucessfully completed his easiest contract neogotiation ever. He stops and picks up the silver flask from the floor that Liam tossed earlier. Turning back to see if anyone's at the door, he opens the flask and brings it to his face. Giving it a quick sniff, he bravely decides to sample what it is that keeps The Jersey Drifter going. He takes a tiny sip, but quickly spits out the alcohol.] DS: Ugh, that's putrid. It's vile. [A light bulb goes off in Dan's head.] DS: It's... possibly marketable. [As Dan begins dreaming up some endorsement plans, he places the flask on his desk as the camera fades to black. Behind Ditka, the faces of Lord Byron and Orin LeBlanc appear on the screen.] DD: British blueblood Lord Byron was taken to a place he's never been taken before when he wrestled Liam Cassidy in a brutal and bloody match at Wild Summer Night. Now he faces Orin "The Lynx" LeBlanc, who survived a three-way match inside a steel cage. Who will come out on top? [Fade in on trees... a pond... a wooden bridge... and a pagoda. Yes, we've been here before. It's the Classical Chinese Garden in Portland. And staring out over the pond, clad in a black t-shirt and faded denim jeans, is Orin "The Lynx" LeBlanc.] OL: Sated. Not satisfied though. [LeBlanc doesn't even turn to look at the camera.] OL: Don't care what the thesaurus says...they're two different words in my book. [He taps the railing, now finally turning to acknowledge the camera.] OL: Don't get me wrong. I got my fair due finally out o' that hotshot Dorado; my business with him is done... [The Lynx mutters under his breath.] OL: ...and that trollop o' his has finally gotten the damn hint. But in the end, I "survived". Not a win, not a loss. Just the other guy stuck in the middle. Some folks say I should be happy with that. [LeBlanc snorts softly, shaking his head as the hint of a small smirk appears on his face.] OL: But I'm not wired for Planet Daniels logic. I'm not in this place to only settle for not losin'. An' speakin' o' which, I got a long memory for blood spilt that still needs to be answered... [The Lynx's grip on the railing suddenly tightens for a moment, then it eases up.] OL: ...but I can be patient. For a while more at least. Fow now, I got Byron on deck. [Orin straightens up.] I know the name. I respect the career. Doesn't mean I have to care about the man behind it all. God only knows, he ain't carin' about me. In fact, I'm wagerin' he's in a dangerous sort o' mood right now, all things considered. [He folds his arms across his chest, the smirk from earlier now twisting into a toothy grin.] OL: Good. So am I. Men like Byron... they've had their time already. Their time is done. But this time now is mine... [The Lynx's eyes narrow as he looks straight at the camera.] OL: ...an' you don't want to get between me an' mine... [Fade back to the studio. The faces of Derek Rage, with Pizzazz, and Nathan Herod, with Mick Silvestri, appear on the plasma screen.] DD: Tag team legend Derek Rage missed out on a singles victory over Dave Bryant at Wild Summer Night, but on RAMPAGE he'll be out for revenge when he faces Alabama rookie Nathan Herod, himself coming off a victory in a handicap match at RCW's first-ever pay-per-view. Two big, powerful men meet head-on in the ring -- it'll be quite the sight to see. Let's hear from both of them. [Cut to Derek Rage standing before an RCW backdrop. The giant of the RCW was last seen at the RCW's pay-per-piew on the wrong side of a cane strike from Lord Byron. The passage of time hasn't seemed to improve his mood. He is dressed for the ring. His arms are folded defensively across his chest. His eyes bore holes through the camera.] DR: I realise wrestlers aren't the most sophisticated men in the world. I realise they aren't the smartest or the most enlightened. But Goddamn, I didn't realise just how ignorant they were. Dave Bryant, you got lucky, because you were just a few short moments away from not only being punked, but beaten by this so-called mush-mouthed, sag-wearing, nappy headed Negro. You made an enemy for life in me when you took things there. I hope you understand that. But, just when I was going to show you you were really less than nothing, just some punk with illusions of importance your brother in ignorance came to your rescue. [Byron unfolds his arms and jabs a finger towards the camera.] DR: Byron, B., you made a bad mistake interjecting yourself in that match. What did you think would happen? You cost me a win, sure. Did you think I would cry? Did you think I would tuck my tail between my legs and run away? Did you think I would cower at the mention of the name ... Byron? I ain't scared a you. I ain't impressed by you. Damn, B., you couldn't even get past the Dog. You think I'm not a better wrestler than Allah? You'll find out that I am. Not only better, but bigger, smarter and right now a hell of a lot angrier. So, tonight, I get back on track. This young punk Nathan Herod, he may have survived a handicap match, but he's facing an angry giant. I am more than two men. I am more than three. Unleashed, I am a force of nature. [Rage clenches his fists at his sides.] DR: [snarling] Herod, this is not your fault, but you're going to pay for Byron's foolishness. You're going to pay for Dave Bryant's arrogance. I hope you have good insurance. I hope your manager loves you enough to throw in the towel for you. I hope so because I don't give a good goddamn about you. I'm coming to hurt you, boy. I'm coming to break you and show the world that Derek Rage is not the man to be messed with. [Rage pauses. He looks down for a moment, anguish surprised on his face. The emotion cycles through quickly as he looks back at the camera with dead eyes.] DR: I'm sorry for what I'm about to do. [We wipe-cut to Mick Silvestri adjusting a dark blue tie which is perfectly in sync with his brand new Armani suit. The manager's expression is dominated by his ever-present smile. Behind him we can see the desk of his small office and, lounging on his couch, the hulkish form of Nathan Herod.] MS: Fans of RCW... you now have the great opportunity to get another look at the MVP of Wild Summer Night. The man who carried the handicap match squarely on his Atlas-like shoulders. The man who demolished David Cross. The man, from the American Heartland, who continues to ignite cult-like fan clubs all around the country. I present... Nathan Herod! [Silvestri frantically claps his hands as he steps to the side and the camera zooms in on Herod who just sits there, his face blank and unreadable.] MS: Say something to the public, Nate. Bask in the triumph! [A disinterested shrug is the wrestler's only answer. Mick quickly steps back into the shot.] MS: Anyways, the machine never stops working. No resting on laurels for us. Next Rampage, Nathan Herod is going to fight none other than Derek Rage in a true clash of the titans. A star that was against a legend in the making. Only here in RCW. NH: Derek Rage, huh? [Nathan stands up and scratches his crew cut.] NH: Big fella. Should be fun to cut him down. MS: Well, this is about more than just fun, Nate. You know who Rage is, right? A champion many times over. Someone who rakes in the big, big bucks. If you defeat him, you'll take a very big step towards going where he is today. [Herod takes a moment to think about this as he curiously stares at his manager.] NH: And ah wanna be where he is ... why? MS: I just said it. [Mick starts to rattle of the points with his fingers.] MS: He's got the reputation, the name, the fat contract, the histo-- NH: Lemme tell you something. Rage an' ah are cut out o' the same piece o' wood. We are both family man who have left their brothers behind to cut out a portion o' the world fer themselves. [He jabs a thumb at his massive chest.] NH: The difference is that _ah_ never depended on mah folks. Ah never called on Ethan or Jacob or Zeke t' stand beside me inna fight an' neither would they. Fer all ah know, Rage followed his brother around like a lapdog fer years. Now he wants to step out of his ... "Shadoe" ? It may jus' be too late. So, do ah wanna be where he is right now? A man tryin' to escape from his past? Hell no. [Silvestri sighs.] MS: This is not about some kind of sibling complex, though. This is about you facing a 7«2", 325 lbs guy with something to prove. NH: Mah Pa used to say "the biggest men are the laziest. They think they are invincible jus' cause god made them tower over the rest o' us. To compensate, god made 'em also dumber. While they think they can push you aroun' you hit'em, as hard as you can. Ain't nobody gettin' up after you hit'em right, boys." MS: And hitting them right means the HDD? [Herod just stares at Silvestri for moment, then nods, looking more satisfied now.] NH: That's right, Mick. That is jus' right. [Cut back to the studio, where the plasma screen is filled with the grinning visage of "Your Hero" Danny Daniels.] DD: And if all that action isn't enough for you, you won't want to miss the special announcement planned by "Your Hero" Danny Daniels, fresh off his victory over Madrock the Irrepressible at Wild Summer Night. What will the kooky Californian have to say for himself? [The camera fades in to see Danny "Your Hero" Daniels, wearing his customary wraparound sunglasses and a goofy grin on his face. The new item is the hat on top of his head. He's carrying a microphone as he speaks.] D'YH'D: GREETINGS AND SALUTATIONS! I'm Danny Daniels... ...Ace Reporter. [He turns the microphone around, where an 'OTW' symbol has been written in.] D'YH'D: That's right, here at "On The Wire" for RCW, we get to the bottom line and find out the real story. We do it through hard-hitting questions and digging for the facts. And that's why I'm here... [The camera starts to zoom out... revealing that the Danny Daniels speaking is inside a television screen. As the camera pulls back further, we see that the TV is seated on a rolling cart. And standing next to the cart, dressed exactly the same as he looks inside the television (only without the hat) is Danny Daniels. Danny waves as the televised Daniels finishes.] D'YH'D (tv): ... interviewing "Your Hero", Danny Daniels! A man so nice... D'YH'D: ... they named me twice! How's it going, Danny? D'YH'D (tv): Just great! Now, first I want to congratulate you on your fine victory at Wild Summer Night. D'YH'D: Thank you. D'YH'D (tv): It was, without a doubt, the greatest win in the history of mankind! D'YH'D: I wouldn't go _quite_ that far, Danny. D'YH'D (tv): I would. Can you name another? D'YH'D: [thinking it over] Perhaps you're right. I'm going to have to defer to your outstanding logic and reasoning skills. D'YH'D (tv): Thank you. Coming from you, that's a WONDERFUL compliment. But it was a costly victory. I understand you suffered a few injuries during that bout. D'YH'D: It wasn't easy, as you well know. D'YH'D (tv): True. D'YH'D: There were the assorted cuts and bruises. A few muscle tears. Some internal bleeding. Somehow, my spleen and gall bladder ended up being so devastated that they switched places. And, of course, they had to remove two of my ribs. D'YH'D (tv): How horrible! How is your recovery coming along? D'YH'D: Well, after a few hours in the hospital and a few days at home, I'm THRILLED to tell the fans that I, "Your Hero", Danny Daniels. A man so nice... D'YH'D (tv): They named him twice! D'YH'D: They certainly did. But I'm pleased to let the fans know that I am 100%, back to full strength, A-OK! D'YH'D (tv): Well, that's certainly a relief. We can tell the fans to stop with the protests and the hunger strikes. D'YH'D: Hunger strikes? D'YH'D (tv): I have firsthand knowledge that tens of thousands of children were refusing to eat because they were so worried about their Hero, Danny. I know parents all across the land who are going to be happy when their children hear the news about you, Danny. D'YH'D: I'm just doing my part for the youngsters of this land. D'YH'D (tv): Now, Danny... as the Ace Reporter for OTW, I have to ask you the tough questions. Are you ready? D'YH'D: Go ahead, Danny. I'm ready. D'YH'D (tv): Now, I understand that you have some wonderful, yet surprising news. [The 'real' Danny grins even wider, if that's possible.] D'YH'D: Why... yes. Yes, I do. How did you find out? D'YH'D (tv): I'm sorry, Danny. I can't reveal my sources. Confidentiality clauses and all. D'YH'D: More than fair! D'YH'D (tv): and I'm to ask you, here in front of the OTW audience... What is that news? D'YH'D: [Thinks it over] Well, Danny. I would like to tell you. You've certainly earned it, with your hard-hitting journalism. But... [Another wide grin] D'YH'D: A story like this deserves a slightly bigger stage. One where the fans can join me in the celebration of the news, live. Because, as you well, know, I'm all about pleasing the fans. D'YH'D (tv): I know, Danny. But can you at least confirm the rumors? D'YH'D: Hmm... [The Daniels outside the TV thinks about it, then reaches down and grabs a duffel bag. Standing off to the side, he unzips the top of the duffel bag, and opens it up. He holds the duffel bag open for the image of the televised Danny Daniels, whose eyes widen.] D'YH'D (tv): My god -- it's so beautiful! D'YH'D: Isn't it? [He zips up the duffel bag and sets it down on the floor again.] D'YH'D (tv): My journalistic integrity prevents me from spilling the beans -- but I have to admit that I want to. D'YH'D: I don't blame you. And I promise that you'll get an exclusive scoop down the road. But let's share this news at RAMPAGE. D'YH'D (tv): Reluctantly, I have to agree. [The camera starts zooming in, showing on the reporter version of Danny Daniels.] D'YH'D (tv): But friends, all I can say is that you must do whatever you can to watch this next RAMPAGE. The news that "Your Hero" wishes to spring on us is earth-shattering in importance! You'll be telling your grandchildren where you were when he reveals his big news! I implore you- sell your organs if you have to, but watch and record this Rampage! For On the Wire, I'm Danny "Ace Reporter" Daniels. [The TV screen that Danny is on starts to fade to black.] D'YH'D: TOODLES~! [And then completes the fade. Cut back to Ditka -- the screen behind him now showing the Ticketmaster logo.] DD: Folks, the RCW athletes have had time to heal their injuries, and they'll all be coming back better and stronger than ever in the Rose Garden next Thursday night. Don't miss it -- a few tickets are still available, either in person from the Rose Garden's box office, or via www.ticketmaster.com. If you can't be there live and in living colour, tune in on KPDX-49 next Thursday night at 10pm to catch the action. [Cut to another camera.] DD: Well, that'll do it for this week's edition of On The Wire. I'll be alongside my broadcast colleague "Spotlight" Billy Shakespeare to call all the action at RAMPAGE. Until then, this is Don Ditka, wishing you a good night, everybody! [The lights in the studio dim as "Bodies" once again kicks in over the PA. Ditka shuffles his papers into order as the camera pans up to the RCW logo on the set above his head. Fade to black.] ____________________________________________________________________ / Copyright (C) 2006 Rip City Wrestling, Inc. All rights reserved. / / www.ripcitywrestling.com / /___________________________________________________________________/