[The high-tempo heavy guitar riff of Black Sabbath's "The Mob Rules"
thrashes away as we see footage from previous RCW matches...]

# Close the city and tell the people that
# something's coming to call
# Death and darkness are rushing forward to
# take a bite from the wall, oh

[...Dave Bryant spears Orin LeBlanc into the ringsteps!... Paul Driscoll
and Johnny Pleasence slug it out in the middle of the ring, the fans in
the arena coming to their feet...]

# You've nothing to say
# They're breaking away
# If you listen to fools...
# The mob rules
# The mob rules

[...Lord Byron hits Liam Cassidy with the Coup De GrŠce inverted DDT
neckbreaker... Paul Driscoll hits the Death Valley Driver on Owen
Curtis...]

# Kill the spirit and you'll be blinded,
# the end is always the same
# Play with fire, you burn your fingers and 
# lose your hold of the flame, oh

[...Nolan Dorado launches himself off the ring barrier with his Golden
Guillotine forward somersault, landing hard with his leg across
Carmazzi's throat!...]

# It's over, it's done
# The end is begun
# If you listen to fools...
# The mob rules

[...Liam Cassidy slips behind Lord Byron, and as Byron spins around, he
is caught by a vicious right hook from Cassidy...]

# You've nothing to say
# Oh, they're breaking away
# If you listen to fools...

[...Nolan Dorado scales the wall of the steel cage, and without even
looking backwards over his shoulder, he pushes himself off the cage,
launching himself with a moonsault, landing hard on both Vinny Carmazzi
and Orin LeBlanc...]

# Break the circle and stop the movement,
# the wheel is thrown to the ground
# Just remember it might start rolling and
# take you right back around

[...Johnny Pleasence tosses the ring steps into the crowd, trying to
take out some fans... Pleasence stands with the blood-stained RCW
Championship belt held aloft...]

# You're all fools!
# The mob rules!

[...the logo crashes onto the screen in an explosion of sparks and
flame:]

       ___  ______      __   ___  ___   __  ______  ___  _________
      / _ \/ ___/ | /| / /  / _ \/ _ | /  |/  / _ \/ _ |/ ___/ __/
     / , _/ /__ | |/ |/ /  / , _/ __ |/ /|_/ / ___/ __ / (_ / _/  
    /_/|_|\___/ |__/|__/  /_/|_/_/ |_/_/  /_/_/  /_/ |_\___/___/
                                  LIVE! Rose Garden, Portland, OR
                                          Thursday 17 August 2006


[The logo crashes through the screen in a flurry of sparks, revealing a
wide shot of the Rose Garden.  Spotlights swirling over the stands show
that the arena is filled to the rafters with twenty thousand cheering
fans, welcoming RCW back after a month off the air.  Pyros explode high
above the ring, drawing a huge pop from the people in attendance!  As
the smoke clears, we hear the "voice of RCW," Don Ditka:]

DD: Welcome everybody to beautiful Portland, Oregon!  Welcome everybody
to the sold-out Rose Garden arena!

[The camera tracks down the aisle, fans on both sides mugging for the
camera, showing off their RCW merchandise -- foam Derek Rage claw hands,
Owen Curtis green visors, Paul Driscoll "PULL THE TRIGGER" t-shirts,
Ryan Faith "GOT FAITH?" t-shirts -- and waving their signs -- "WHERE'S
MADROCK?", "JUST ONE SECOND!", "BYRON FEARS RAGE", among many others.]

DD: Welcome everybody to RCW RAMPAGE!  It's Thursday night, and we are
*live*!

[Cut to the broadcast table at ringside, where Don Ditka is seated next
to "Spotlight" Billy Shakespeare.  Both men are wearing their headsets.]

DD: Good evening, everybody!  I'm Don Ditka, and beside me as always is
my broadcast colleague "Spotlight" Billy Shakespeare.  It's great to be
back on the air!

BS: It certainly is, Don -- and even better that "Soundbite" Steve
Roberts is nowhere to be seen.

DD: This is our first broadcast since Wild Summer Night, nearly five
weeks ago -- and what a tremendous success that show was!

BS: I've seen, and been a part of, most of the biggest pay-per-view
events of the last ten years, and I have to tell you, Don, Wild Summer
Night was absolutely off the page.

DD: But enough of the recent past -- let's look ahead to the immediate
future.  What an incredible hour of action we have coming up for you
tonight.

[A graphic showing RCW Champion Johnny Pleasence nose to nose with Vinny
Carmazzi appears on the screen, captioned "TONIGHT!"]

DD: RCW Champion Johnny Pleasence puts his title on the line against
submission specialist Vinny Carmazzi, in what is the first ever world
title shot of Carmazzi's twelve-year career.  Is Carmazzi's twelve-year
journey going to reach its culmination here tonight?

[The graphic spins, showing the easy-going smile of Mark Coleman and the
brooding blue eyes of Ryan Faith, Dinah by his side.]

BS: And while a veteran wrestles for the title tonight, a rookie takes
his first step towards a title shot.  If Mark Coleman can defeat Ryan
Faith here tonight, he goes on to face former world champion Dave Bryant
in two weeks' time.  If Coleman beats Bryant -- he gets a shot at the
world champion.  But will it be Pleasence or Carmazzi he's shooting for?

[The graphic spins again, showing the faces of "Golden Boy" Nolan Dorado
and "The Jersey Drifter" Liam Cassidy.]

DD: And among our other great matches here tonight, the first hobo of
wrestling -- hot off his incredible victory over Lord Byron -- goes
one-on-one with the man many are calling the MVP of Wild Summer Night,
despite his narrow loss in a brutal three-way cage match, "Golden Boy"
Nolan Dorado.  What a match that's going to be!

[Cut back to the announce table at ringside.]

DD: On top of all that, "Your Hero" Danny Daniels also promises a big
announcement, live here in the Garden tonight.  It's going to be a
tremendous show -- so let's get up to the ring!

   ___  ______      __ 
  / _ \/ ___/ | /| / /  
 / , _/ /__ | |/ |/ /   Derek Rage vs. Nathan Herod
/_/|_|\___/ |__/|__/ 


[Standing in the middle of the ring, RCW's resident ring announcer Sy
Simmons raises his wireless microphone to his lips.]
 
SS: Ladies and gentlemen, tonight's opening contest is scheduled for one
fall!  Introducing first...
 
[The crowd reacts to one of the most famous opening riffs in classic
rock with a loud chorus of boos as Lynard Skynard's renowned "Sweet Home
Alabama" begins playing over the PA speakers.]
 
# Sweet home Alabama
# Where the skies are so blue
# Sweet home Alabama
# Lord, I'm coming home to you 
 
SS: ...accompanied to the ring by his manager Mick Silvestri, hailing
from the Herod Estate in Alabama, and weighing in at 270lbs... here
is... NAAAAAAATHAAAAAAN HEEEEEEEEROD!
 
[The sound of loud machine gun fire and tires squealing on pavement cuts
off "Sweet Home Alabama" as "Immortally Insane" by Pantera suddenly
begins.  Nathan Herod emerges through the entrance curtains, pausing for
a moment at the top of the aisle as he calmly chews gum while surveying
the crowd.  Mick Silvestri steps out behind him, noticeably maintaining
his distance from his young charge.]
 
DD: The Alabaman, Nathan Herod, may be inexperienced but he's
demonstrated that what he might lack in knowledge, he certainly makes up
for in terms of raw ability, Billy Shakespeare.
 
BS: He's certainly a diamond-in-the-rough but one has to think that his
tendency to lose control from time to time is a weakness and not a
strength.  He's certainly going to have his hands full with the enormous
Derek Rage -- who not only has years of experience over this young man
but the wrestling skills that go along with it.
 
[As he marches down the aisle towards the ring, Herod ignores the
audience completely as he strides along with head held high.  Behind
him, Silvestri trails in his wake, recoiling from the reaching hands of
fans with distaste as he yells at the crowd to keep its distance.  Herod
takes his time slowly rolling into the ring as Silvestri remains on the
floor, offering a few last words of encouragement as Herod licks his
lips nervously.  "Immortally Insane" begins to diminish over the
speakers as Simmons raises his microphone to his lips once more...]
 
SS: And introducing his opponent...
 
[The arena is plunged into utter darkness as the lights go out and the
sudden hard beat of Public Enemy's "Black Steel in the Hour of Chaos"
thundering over the PA speakers prompts a deafening cheer.]
 
SS: ...accompanied to the ring by Pizzazz... hailing from Halifax, Nova
Scotia, Canada, and weighing in at 325lbs... here is... DEEEEEEEEREK
RAAAAAAAAAGE!
 
[The cheering grows even louder as the statuesque Pizzazz steps into the
spotlight shining down at the top of the aisle, smiling brilliantly as
she strikes an alluring pose.  Behind the 6' beauty steps the towering
form of Derek Rage, cloaked in his trademark boxer's robe with hood
pulled down over his head.  From the tension evident in his shoulders
and the way he continually clenches and unclenches his hands into large
fists, it is evident that the tag team legend is not in a good mood.]
 
DD: Derek Rage lost his match at Wild Summer Night against Dave Bryant
due to the interference of Lord Byron and it makes me wonder if Nathan
Herod will end up bearing the brunt of his anger?
 
BS: He just might but Herod isn't the type to be too concerned about
that sort of thing.  Herod may be a rookie but he's still a dangerous
wrestler in his own right so when he stares across the ring at Derek
Rage tonight, he won't be seeing one of the great tag team wrestlers of
all time.  He'll be seeing an obstacle.  A taller obstacle but not
necessarily a bigger one in Herod's point of view.
 
DD: That kind of confidence might be reasonable for any man who steps
into the squared circle, Billy Shakespeare.  But if Nathan Herod thinks
he's going to run roughshod over a man like Derek Rage, he's in for a
very rude awakening!
 
[The fans continue to cheer loudly as Rage and Pizzazz walk down to the
ring.  At ringside, Rage demonstrates his exceptional height by
ascending up onto the ring apron and then stepping over the top rope
with one sweeping scissor motion of his long legs.  Pizzazz uses a more
conventional approach as she ducks between the ropes, standing behind
her charge as she removes his robe to reveal Rage's lean but muscled
body... all 7'2" of it.]
 
DD: The tale of the tape is also certainly in Derek Rage's favor as
Nathan Herod is giving up almost an entire foot of height and over
fifty-five pounds of weight to the bigger man.
 
BS: That he is, Don.  But this match isn't going to come down to sheer
size and power as Herod has his own strengths in that area.  I think
Herod is going to find himself the underdog in this match based largely
on Derek Rage's talent and wrestling skills.]
 
[Pizzazz exits the ring with robe in hand, ignoring the shouted jibes of
Mick Silvestri who yells at her from the opposite side of the ring. 
Referee Bobby Belshee signals for the bell as Herod and Rage step
towards one another.]
 
* DING! DING! DING! *
 
[Meeting in the center of the ring, the two big men surge together in a
collar-and-elbow tie-up that ends quickly with the giant Rage shoving
his smaller opponent backward with authority.  Herod seems unconcerned
by this as he rushes forward and the two lock up once more, straining
against one another for a few seconds before Rage repeats his earlier
demonstration of strength by propelling the Alabaman back several paces
with a mighty heave.  Visibly frustrated now, Herod charges forward into
a third collar-and-elbow tie-up but this time, Rage pushes him backward
so hard that Herod stumbles back into the ropes and tumbles out of the
ring as he falls between them!  As Herod jumps quickly back to his feet
on the arena floor, Rage flexes his muscles and roars his defiance at
the smaller man as the crowd cheers enthusiastically.]
 
DD: Nathan Herod having a hard time believing that Derek Rage is much
stronger than he his but I think that particular illusion has been
shattered quite effectively.
 
BS: Herod will not win this match trying to match strength with a
powerhouse like Derek Rage.
 
[From their nearby corner, Silvestri yells encouragement at his young
charge as Pizzazz claps her hands in appreciation on the opposite side
of the ring.  Herod looks disconcerted as he climbs up onto the ring
apron while Derek Rage steps forward to meet him.  But when Rage
attempts to grab Herod's head to pull him back into the ring, Herod
ducks underneath the bigger man's grasp and drives his shoulder forward
into the tag team legend's midriff.  The force of this blow is enough to
stagger Rage backward a half-step as Herod steps into the ring and
unloads a barrage of forearm smashes against Rage's chest that rocks the
bigger man back onto his heels.]
 
DD: Herod abandoning tests of strength for now as he uses brawling
tactics to try and cut down Derek Rage to size.
 
BS: This should be a far more effective strategy as Herod can brawl with
the best of them.
 
[Herod's forearm strikes drive Rage backward several steps but when the
Alabaman attempts a right hook aimed at the Canadian's jaw, Rage avoids
it and grabs the smaller man's arm.  Twisting the arm around, Rage
smoothly trips up Herod using his long legs to his advantage as he rides
the smaller man down to the canvas.  Herod grunts in pain as Rage
secures his long arms around Herod's arm, locking the elbow and pulling
backwards as he applies excruciating pressure to the smaller man's
shoulder and elbow joint.]
 
DD: Oh!  And a textbook side-arm takedown by Derek Rage transitioned
into an armbar.
 
BS: If Nathan Herod's strength is brawling, Don, Derek Rage's is mat
wrestling and that's a beautiful wakigatame he's locked on.
 
[Bobby Belshee drops down beside the two men and checks to see if Herod
wishes to submit but the Alabaman grits his teeth against the pain and
shakes his head from side to side.  At ringside, Silvestri yells advice
but try as he might, Herod can not power his way out of Rage's vice-like
grip.  Finally, the younger man manages to twist himself around so that
he can reach out with one leg and drape his foot across the bottom rope.
 Spotting this, the official slaps Rage's shoulder and the giant
Canadian reluctantly releases his hold.]
 
DD: Herod managing to get out of that armbar with the help of the bottom
rope but we've just seen a clear demonstration that Derek Rage certainly
has the advantage when it comes to knowledge and skill.
 
BS: Wrestlers have often underestimated just how good a wrestler Derek
is because they look at him and simply see a big, tall man.  They don't
see past his size to recognize that he is an excellent mat technician.
 
[Rage rises to his feet as Herod sits up but as the big Canadian reaches
down to grab his smaller opponent by the back of the neck, Herod twists
his body to block the official's view as he drives his elbow backward
and upward into Rage's groin.  The male members of the audience wince
and gasp in sympathy as Rage cries out in pain, his hands covering his
injured crotch.]
 
"OOOOOOOOOH!"
 
DD: Low blow!  A low blow by Nathan Herod and the referee didn't even
see it!
 
BS: And that's something that even a big man like Derek Rage will feel.
 
[The audience boos and jeers while Pizzazz protests loudly but Belshee
can only shrug in confusion as Derek Rage doubles over in pain.  Herod
quickly rises to his feet and takes advantage of the bigger man being
bent over as he ducks underneath Rage and hoists him up onto his brawny
shoulders.  Smiling in triumph, Herod turns around several times for the
audience to admire Derek Rage draped across his shoulders before he
drops flat onto his back, crushing the bigger man into the canvas!]
 
DD: Samoan Drop by Nathan Herod and *that* knocked the wind out of Derek
Rage's sails!
 
BS: A particularly effective move in Herod's arsenal as not only does he
drop his victim onto his side but then he drives the back of his head
right into the ribcage.  Derek Rage had the advantage but Nathan Herod
has swung it back into his favor with that big move.
 
[Herod quickly surges back to his feet and grabs Rage's long legs,
holding them upright so that he can unload a series of vicious kicks to
the back of the big Canadian's right knee.  Rage grunts in pain in
reaction to each blow as he attempts to kick his way out of Herod's
grasp but the Alabaman holds tight as he drives the toe of his boot into
the side of Rage's knee joint.]
 
DD: A classic strategy now being adopted by Nathan Herod as he tries to
cut Derek Rage down to size by kicking away at his right knee.
 
BS: Not necessarily a very innovative tactic, Don, but those kicks are
brutally effective as Herod is really dishing out the punishment to
Rage's legs.
 
[Insult is added to injury when Silvestri climbs up onto the ring apron
to yell advice at Herod.  But when Bobby Belshee marches over to
confront the noisy manager, Herod takes advantage of the distraction to
drive his knee down between Rage's legs as the crowd gasps once more.]
 
"OOOOOOOOOH!"
 
DD: And another low blow as Herod nails a kneedrop to the groin while
the official wasn't looking!
 
BS: Dirty tactics on the part of Herod and Silvestri... and it looks
like Pizzazz isn't about to let that go unanswered!
 
[Furious, Pizzazz races around the ring and grabs Silvestri's legs to
yank the Englishman down off the apron.  Silvestri angrily shoves the
tall woman backward but this turns out to be completely the wrong move
to make as Pizzazz clobbers him with a thunderous punch that knocks
Silvestri down.  In the ring, Herod glares angrily at this scene while
Derek Rage rolls over onto his side, folded over in agony.  The fans,
thrilled by the sight of the hated Silvestri dropped by Pizzazz, cheer
loudly.]
 
DD: Mick Silvestri is known for having made some big mistakes in his
life but he just paid dearly for that latest one as Pizzazz just dropped
him like a bad habit!
 
BS: Not only is Pizzazz Elysee significantly larger than Silvestri but
he seems to have forgotten that she's a former wrestler in her own right
and... uh-oh!  This does not look good!
 
[Angered at the humiliation of his manager, Herod rolls out of the ring
and storms over to confront Pizzazz.  Bellowing in rage, the Alabaman
charges forward and tries to decapitate the beautiful woman with a
running clothesline.  But Pizzazz dodges out of the way and Herod ends
up crashing into the unforgiving steel of the corner ringpost as his
shoulder smashes into the metal column in a painful collision of steel
and flesh.]
 
*SMACK!*
 
DD: Oh my God!  Nathan Herod just tried to attack Pizzazz!
 
BS: He's a dangerous, borderline psychotic but thankfully, Pizzazz
managed to avoid what could have been a very bad injury!
 
[Pizzazz quickly moves out of the area as Herod stumbles backward,
clutching his shoulder and grimacing in pain.  Silvestri remains
motionless on the ground but in the ring, Derek Rage rises to his feet,
limping visibly.  Bobby Belshee yells at Herod to get back into the ring
but the Alabaman ignores him as he looks around for Pizzazz.  Spotting
the lovely former model on the opposite side of the ring, Herod snarls
and looks as if he's about to pursue her when a giant hand reaches down
from above as long fingers grab his head in a painful grasp.  The crowd
roars its approval.]
 
DD: Herod looking to go after Pizzazz again... but Derek Rage stops him!
 
[Drawing on his enormous height, Rage reaches down from out of the ring
and uses his grip on Herod's skull to pull the smaller man up onto the
ring apron.  Reaching over the ropes, Rage traps Herod in a front
facelock and then hoists the younger man upside down into the air before
falling backwards to drop him back into the ring with a thunderous
vertical suplex!]
 
DD: Rage suplexes Herod back into the ring and this match returns to the
squared circle once more!
 
BS: Derek Rage is not afraid to take the action out of the ring when it
serves his purpose but he's being smart here by keeping the match inside
the ring and down on the ground where his skills and strength give him
the advantage.
 
[Herod sits up, wincing in pain but he has little time to recover as
Rage slides over behind him, sliding one hand around the front of the
smaller man's neck while the other hand snakes under the Alabaman's left
arm and behind the neck.  Turning and corkscrewing Herod's arm as he
crosses his own arms, Rage rolls onto his back and lifts the smaller man
off the mat and into the air as he cuts off his air supply.  Herod's
face quickly turns red as he ineffectually pulls at Rage's arms,
struggling to break free as the big Canadian wraps his legs around
Herod's torso in a leg scissors.]
 
DD: Headwrecker! Headwrecker! Derek Rage has Nathan Herod trapped in
that deadly elevated katahajime of his!
 
BS: Herod is in severe danger of being choked out here as he's nowhere
near the ropes and Rage has that trademark submission hold of his locked
in tight.
 
[Bobby Belshee drops down beside the two wrestlers and asks Herod if he
wants to give up but the gasping Alabaman waves him off as he continues
to try to break free.  Lying on his back with his victim trapped on top
of him, Rage is unwittingly vulnerable himself as a pair of hands reach
into the ring from underneath the bottom rope and tear viciously at the
big Canadian's eyes.]
 
DD: Silvestri!  Mick Silvestri managed to get back to his feet and he's
gouging at Derek Rage's eyes, forcing the former Prophet of Rage to
release his hold!
 
BS: A despicable ploy... but unfortunately an effective one as that was
about the only thing that could have possibly saved Nathan Herod.
 
[Rage bellows in agony and releases his hold as he shields his eyes. 
Pizzazz races around the ring but is too late to prevent the
Englishman's interference as Silvestri raises his arms in triumph,
showered with boos and jeers from the disapproving crowd.  Silvestri's
triumph is short-lived, however, as Pizzazz makes him pay for his sins
by charging into the smaller man and bowling him over with a powerful
lariat that flips him over and onto his back!]
 
DD: And the managers are getting into it once more as Pizzazz takes out
Silvestri for a second time!
 
BS: This match is becoming a bit of a free-for-all out here as there's
almost as much action on the outside of the ring as in it!
 
[The referee admonishes Pizzazz as he orders her back to her side of the
ring while Silvestri lies on the floor in a crumpled heap.  In the ring,
Rage rolls to his feet and blinks furiously as he wipes at his watering
eyes to clear his vision.  Nearby, Herod's face is still bright red as
he gasps for breath, using the ropes in the corner to help pull himself
upright.  The two men definitely look the worse for wear as Rage limps
towards the smaller man who continues to cough as a large welt can be
seen on Herod's shoulder where he struck the ringpost.  Reaching
forward, Rage grabs Herod around the neck in a chokehold... but this is
quickly broken when Herod lashes out with his foot, kicking the bigger
man in the knee that he had worked over earlier.]
 
DD: Again, Herod targets that knee as he struggles to avoid being
overpowered by the stronger and more experienced Derek Rage.
 
[Twisting out of Rage's chokehold, Herod steps around beside the bigger
man and picks up his leg, bending it up so that he can hoist the big
Canadian up into the air and drop him knee-joint-first across the top of
his leg.]
 
DD: Kneebreaker by Herod -- and that's definitely got to hurt!
 
BS: When you're as tall as Derek Rage, any injuries to the knee are
going to be that much harder to deal with.
 
[Rage cries out in pain and limps sideways as he holds his injured knee.
 Herod gives him no chance to recover, however, as the burly Alabaman
ducks underneath the doubled over Rage and lifts him high over his
head!]
 
DD: LOOK AT THIS!  NATHAN HEROD IS LIFTING ALL THREE HUNDRED AND TWENTY
FIVE POUNDS OF DEREK RAGE OVER HIS HEAD IN AN AMAZING GORILLA PRESS!
 
BS: That is an impressive display of strength!
 
[Herod grunts with exertion as he holds Rage high over his head for a
moment before dropping the big Canadian down on top of the corner
turnbuckle so that the taller man's sternum is driven down onto the
padding!]
 
DD: Gorilla Press Slam right onto the corner turnbuckle as Nathan Herod
shows that he's a powerful man in his own right!
 
BS: Nathan Herod is as strong as an ox and I'll admit that he has
natural talent when it comes to wrestling.  But will his inexperience
work against him as you'll notice that he's not following up on his
advantage?
 
[As Derek Rage crumbles in the corner, Herod looks down at the arena
floor where Mick Silvestri is beginning to stir.  Turning to face
Pizzazz who is looking on with concern from her side of the ring, Herod
points a threatening finger at her and yells at her in a bullying
fashion while the fans boo loudly.]
 
DD: Herod still infuriated at Pizzazz for attacking his manager as he
seems to have lost a little of his focus for the moment.
 
BS: A rookie mistake as when you're in the ring with an opponent as
deadly as Derek Rage, you cannot afford to take your eyes off your
goal... and that's winning the match.
 
[Rubbing his bruised shoulder, Herod turns back to the corner to resume
his assault on Derek Rage but he's shocked to discover that the big
Canadian has managed to regain his feet!  Rage snarls as he shoots his
hand forward, grabbing Nathan Herod's face in a vice-like grip as the
crowd roars its approval.]
 
DD:  HAND OF GOD!  HAND OF... NO!  Rage was about to execute his
clawhold slam... but Herod... IS BITING HIS HAND!
 
[Rage bellows in pain as Herod grabs the big Canadian's hand and pulls
it tighter into his own face so that he can bury his teeth into Rage's
palm.  The referee yells ineffectual protests as Rage releases his grip
giving Herod the opportunity to drive him back into the corner with a
double-axehandle to the side of the head.]
 
DD: I can't believe Herod used his teeth to get out of that Hammer of
God!
 
BS: A crude but effective counter as it's likely that the Hammer of God
would have put Herod down for the count had Rage been able to pull it
off.
 
[Shoving the referee aside, Herod takes advantage of the taller Rage
being down on one knee as he grabs the big Canadian's head by the ears
and propels his forehead into the top of Rage's skull with a sickening
thud!  Rage sags as Herod rears back and fires a second devastating
headbutt into the Canadian's skull.  A third and final headbutt drops
Rage onto his back in the corner as Herod staggers backward, a thin
trickle of blood beginning to seep down the side of his nose.]
 
DD: A brutal combination of headbutts as Herod draws blood... his own!
 
BS: But look what it's done to Derek Rage!
 
[The big Canadian's eyes look a little unfocused as he struggles to use
the bottom rope to pull himself up.  But he's given no opportunity to
rise as Herod marches back into the corner and begins stomping away on
the taller man's head and shoulders.  Holding the top ropes with both
hands, Herod unloads kick after kick onto Rage until the big Canadian is
driven back down onto the mat where he attempts to cover himself up from
the onslaught.]
 
BS: Nathan Herod may not know much about the science of wrestling but
he's certainly familiar with the effects of raw violence!
 
[With Rage seemingly dazed, Herod reaches down and grabs the Canadian's
head, pulling the taller man up into a front facelock.  Looking around
the arena at the fans booing and jeering him, Herod grins in wicked
triumph as he reaches down and grabs Rage's leg.]
 
DD: He's going for the HDD, Billy Shakespeare!
 
BS: This could be it... NO!
 
[But Derek Rage is far from finished as with a yank of his leg and head,
he pulls free from Herod's grasp and grabs the smaller man with both
hands.  A mighty heave hoists Herod overhead as Rage presses the smaller
man high into the air.]
 
DD: GORILLA PRESS!  DEREK RAGE BROKE OUT OF THAT HDD SETUP AND HAS
LIFTED NATHAN HEROD OVERHEAD!
 
[Suddenly, Rage shifts his grip as he allows Herod's upper body to fall.
 In mid-air, Rage grabs Herod around the neck in an upside down position
and falls onto his rear so that he drives the top of the Alabaman's
skull down into the canvas with incredible force!]
 
*WHUMP!*
 
DD: IMPLANT DDT!
 
BS: Out of a Gorilla Press?  This is definitely going to be "lights out"
for Nathan Herod!
 
[The fans react with a deafening cheer as Herod lies facedown on the
mat, motionless following the horrific blow to the top of his head. 
Rage lies on his back beside him, his chest heaving as he gasps for
breath.  At ringside, Pizzazz rhythmically slaps the canvas for
encouragement as on the opposite side of the ring, a battered Mick
Silvestri staggers to his feet.]
 
DD: What an incredible opening match tonight as these two men have
unloaded on one another with hellacious punishment!
 
BS: That they have, Don.  But I don't think anyone is surprised to see
Derek Rage is the one with the advantage right now.
 
[Grimacing from the signals his battered and bruised body is sending him
through his nerve endings, Derek Rage rises to his feet and acknowledges
the cheering fans by raising a large fist high into the air.  But
standing over the immobile form of Nathan Herod, Rage bares his teeth in
a ferocious snarl as he reaches down and grabs the Alabaman's ankles.]
 
DD: What... what is this?  What is Derek Rage doing, Billy Shakespeare?
 
BS: This doesn't look like one of his usual holds, Don.  I'm not exactly
certain...
 
[Rage's intentions quickly become clear, however, as he wraps up Herod's
legs before reaching forward and wrapping up the smaller man in a prone
sleeperhold.]
 
DD: THE ARISTOCLUTCH!  THAT'S LORD BYRON'S ARISTOCLUTCH!
 
BS: Derek Rage is sending a message here, Don, and at Nathan Herod's
expense!
 
[On the outside of the ring, Mick Silvestri looks as if he's about to
climb up onto the apron to intervene but he quickly retreats as Pizzazz
races around to cut him off.  In the ring, Herod's face once again turns
beet red but he seems powerless to resist as Rage locks in the infamous
submission hold even tighter.  The referee steps over to the side of the
ring to order Silvestri and Pizzazz apart taking his attention away from
the entrance curtains where a loud roar of protest from the fans can be
heard.]
 
DD: It's Lord Byron!  We haven't seen him since Wild Summer Night!
 
BS: He seems to have gotten Derek Rage's message loud and clear, Don...
and I can't say that it looks like he's enjoying it!
 
[Byron is wild-eyed and furious as he races down the aisle toward the
ring.  Seeing him coming, Rage releases the Aristoclutch he'd trapped
Nathan Herod with, but it takes him a moment to free himself.  At
ringside, Byron grabs a metal garbage can and tosses it into the ring as
he rolls underneath the bottom rope.  On the opposite side of the ring,
Silvestri spots this going on and grabs Pizzazz, sparking a shoving
match that keeps the referee's attention away from the ring.]
 
DD: We don't know why Lord Byron is targeting Derek Rage but...
 
[Ditka's commentary is interrupted as Byron raises the garbage can high
overhead and brings it smashing down onto the top of Derek Rage's skull,
dropping the big Canadian with a mighty crash as garbage and debris go
flying.]
 
*CRASH!*
 
[Still holding onto the garbage can with both hands, Byron then rolls
out of the ring as the referee turns around to investigate.]
 
DD: ...OH NO!  Derek Rage just took a vicious shot to the head from that
garbage can and... now what is Lord Byron doing?
 
[Screaming in protest, Pizzazz charges toward Lord Byron but ends up
eating the garbage can as the Englishman drives it into the beautiful
woman's face.  To add insult to injury, the wild-eyed Byron upends the
garbage can over top of the stunned Pizzazz, showering her with trash
and refuse as the crowd boos loudly.]
 
DD: He's attacked Pizzazz too!  What the hell has gotten into Lord
Byron, Billy Shakespeare?
 
BS: I would venture to guess that this has something to do with his
losing that match against Liam Cassidy at Wild Summer Night.  But as to
why he's decided to take his frustrations out on Derek Rage and Pizzazz?
 That I can't venture to guess.
 
[Derek Rage lies unmoving on his back in the middle of the ring, blood
trickling down the side of his face from a nasty-looking cut in the
middle of his forehead.  A delighted Mick Silvestri begins shouting at
the dazed Nathan Herod who woozily manages to crawl over and drape an
arm across Rage's chest as Bobby Belshee drops down and begins slapping
the canvas...
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
1...
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
2...
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
...3!]
 
* DING! DING! DING! *
 
[The fans boo loudly in protest and disbelief as Lord Byron looks on
with satisfaction while Mick Silvestri reaches underneath the bottom
rope and pulls Nathan Herod out to the floor.]
 
SS: Ladies and gentlemen, your winner by pinfall... NAAAAAAATHAAAAAAN
HEEEEEEEEROD!
 
[Silvestri raises Herod's hand up in victory as the battered Alabaman
looks about, still punch-drunk and dazed.  Security guards and medics
swarm about the still forms of Derek Rage and Pizzazz as the crowd
voices its displeasure in a deafening fashion.]
 
DD: Lord Byron costs Derek Rage the match against Nathan Herod and... I
still can't say as to why?
 
BS: A despicable act by a despicable man and I'm sure we haven't seen
the last of this.
 
[As the medics tend to Rage and Pizzazz, Silvestri can be seen ushering
Herod up the aisle but remaining at ringside himself, taking a vacant
seat in the front row as he pulls a notebook from his suit jacket
pocket.]
 
DD: Nathan Herod scores a tainted victory over Derek Rage and... what is
Mick Silvestri doing here?  Shouldn't he be tending to his client?
 
BS: It looks like he's hanging around to scout somebody... but who?
 
[This particular question remains unanswered for the moment as we fade
to commercials.]




[Fade back from commercials, to Ditka and Shakespeare at the announce
table.]

DD: Welcome back to RAMPAGE, folks!  Before we head up to the ring for
our next match, we have a special feature here tonight.  Another
legendary figure of Portland wrestling is set to make his return to the
Pacific north-west very soon, right here in RCW.  His name is Ron
Paris... and here he is.

[Our scene begins with a very shaky, old fashioned countdown leader.
You'll recognize the type if you've ever seen anything played on an old
movie projector Ð- it is a blurry, black and white countdown from the
number 8 down to 3. At 3, there is an audible beep, and then neither 2
nor 1 are shown, although the screen remains blank for the time during
which those numbers would have been shown.

We then see a title card, reminiscent of silent or very old movies, pop
up, still in black and white. The background itself is black, but we see
a model of the globe spinning in the background. White text in large
letters dominates in the foreground, reading:]

"Global Superstar Productions Presents:

RON PARIS in...

The Return of a Legend"
 
[At this point, the soundtrack to our "film" kicks in. We can hear a
slight crackling, again recalling old-fashioned cinema. The title card
goes away, replaced by a subtitle reading:]

"RON PARIS on...

Being a Global Superstar"
 
[After a few second to read the title, that frame too changes, and we
see a man sitting, being filmed from the side. We are still in black and
white, but you can tell that the man has fairly pale skin and light
coloured, close-cropped hair. He has a fairly neutral expression, and we
can only really see him from the shoulders up. Those who remember the
glory days of Portland wrestling past remember the man as former IIWF
Cruiserweight Champion Ronnie Paris, and those who don't have the
subtitle to go by.

Paris begins to speak, seemingly to an interviewer who is out of frame,
as he looks not at the camera but across the table he is sitting at. His
voice carries only the slightest hint of a Southwestern accent, but is
otherwise a fairly standard, big city American voice with no distinct
regional twang.]

RP: Of course, you know I've wrestled in front of 55,000 rabid puro fans
in the Tokyo Dome. I've wrestled in front of almost 100,000 people,
including royalty, at Wembley Stadium. I've won titles in front of
completely drunk, rioting fans in the Auditorio de Tijuana. I've had
damn near 10,000 angry Germans throwing beer at me in the
Deutschlandhalle in Berlin. I've worked at a sold out Madison Square
Garden. I've been on internationally televised Pay-Per-Views many times.
And now, it comes full cycle, as I'm working in Portland again.

[Paris pauses for a moment. His right hand reaches off screen, and pulls
back a half full glass of water. He takes a quick sip, sets the glass
back down somewhere out of frame, and then resumes speaking.]

RP: Is it a disappointment? You bet. After seeing all those places,
after working in front of all those great, knowledgeable fans, in a way
it's definitely a step back to work in front of the uneducated marks in
Portland. I mean, these people are used to watching the Trail Blazers!
What could they possibly know about excellence, about greatness? But,
Dan Spreadbury made the right financial offer, and that's what it's
about. It's not about the fans. It's not about what's good for the
business. It's about what's right for numero uno, me, Ron Paris. That's
what being a Global Superstar is all about. It's about getting yourself
over, taking care of yourself. So it's the right thing to be here, in
Portland, even if the fans don't deserve it.

[Paris smirks ever so slightly, and we quickly cut to another subtitle.
Again, the image of Paris recedes for a moment, and is replaced by a
title card reading:]
 
"RON PARIS on...

Temptation"

[We go back to the same shot from before, Paris from the shoulders up,
seated at a table, shown in black and white. Again, he directs his
comments to some unseen interviewer across the table, and not to the
camera directly.]

RP: I love my wife. I've been tempted by some of the most gorgeous women
in the world. I mean, when you're a Global Superstar, when you're Ron
Paris, that comes with the territory. Look at me. Think about how much
money I make, how good I am at what I do. Women flock to me, and I'll
admit... I'm a red blooded man, I think about it. But I love my wife.
She's all the woman I need, and I've never given in to the temptation.

[Paris leans back slightly, thinking for a bit, before he continues on.]

RP: Thinking about it, I don't expect things to be different here in
Portland. Women will throw themselves at me. Happens everywhere. But...
if I was able to resist the exotic beauties of Japan, the sophisticated
delights of New York City, the down home charms of Texas, the fiery
senoritas of Mexico, and the mysterious womanly wiles of the Continent,
do you really think I'll be in any trouble here in Portland? Do you
really think the rats from here in the shallow end of the American gene
pool have any chance with me? Save your time, women of Portland. This
man is spoken for, and if he could turn away perfect tens all over the
world, he's not interested in the fours and fives of the Pacific
Northwest.

[We quickly cut away from Paris, who is clearly satisfied with himself,
to yet another title screen. This one reads:]

"Tune in next episode for more of RON PARIS!"

[We stay with the slightly shaky frame of this title for more than long
enough to read the teaser for the next show. We then return back to the
arena, and to Don and Billy.]

DD: "Global Superstar" Ron Paris, folks.  Certainly a man who is sure of
himself -- and a man with whom you're more than familiar, Billy
Shakespeare.

BS: Absolutely, Don.  Ronnie Paris and I had many battles back in the
day.  Paris was just starting out in the business then, but even then he
was very sure of himself.  And to be fair to him, he's had a
tremendously successful career over the last ten years, and his talents
will make a great addition to RCW's roster.

DD: A pity about his attitude, though.  No doubt we will be hearing more
from the "Global Superstar" in the weeks to come here in RCW.

[The camera cuts backstage to Mark Coleman doing push-ups.  The crowd
gives a good sized cheer as they take in the Tennessean.  On the
concrete floor of the Rose Garden, a shirtless Coleman, still in a pair
of blue jeans, is doing push-ups.  His arms pump and flex as he
exercises, warming-up for his match later in the evening]

MC: 23... 24...

[As Coleman counts, a pair of boots enters the frame.  Coleman, counting
'25,' stops for a moment, and looks at them for a split second.]

MC: ...guessin' time we had a chat.  Give me a few seconds.  26...27...

[Coleman counts off five more push-ups, before, with only the lightest
of sweats, he hops to his feet, shaking his arms to loosen them up a
bit...

...and staring into the face of Ryan Faith, who, boots and all, stands
nearby, Dinah not by his side.]

MC: Evenin', Ryan.

RF: I ain't here for pleasantries so I hope you aren't offended if I
don't greet you or shake your hand. I think this is a time for me
without Johnny, without Dave or without Dinah to come face to face with
you again. Ya gotta understand something, Mark...

[Ryan jabs Coleman in the chest with his finger.]

RF: You... were not three seconds away from beating me. You also seem to
be having these little thoughts of Ryan Faith being nothing but a
stepping stone on your way towards the RCW title and JP.

[Coleman goes to speak but is immediatley cut off.]

RF: I wasn't done talking. I came here alone because I want these
conspiracy theories dead. I had nothing to do with Ogawa interfering in
our match. He cost me a chance of notching another victory.

MC: Ryan, whoa.  Hold up there.

[Coleman holds up his hands between them.]

MC: I never said you had a hand in it.  You didn't see the type for
conspiracies and plots when Ogawa jumped me.  Course, now that you're
with Pleasance and Bryant, think it's safe to say, all that's changed...
but let's get one thing right, Faith, taken Ogawa out of the equation
for good.  Between you and me?

[Now it's Coleman's turn to poke Faith in the chest, hard.]

MC: Three seconds away from having your shoulders down on the mat for
the one, two, three.  Focus on that.

[Ryan smirks.]

RF: How odd, that's not how I remember things at all.  You had me up
high but I wasn't coming down hard with you.  I wasn't going for any
ride.  If you had that killer instinct, if you had that factor that
makes me dangerous.. that makes me the hungry lion that I am... we
wouldn't be talking about what would have happened.  We would be talking
about what *did* happen.  You had your chance, you blew it.  Now I
don't intend on letting you get another DQ win at my expense.  And I
know you got your eyes set on something else... am I right?

[Coleman chuckles softly at that comment.]

MC: Suppose you're referrin' to the ten-plus pounds of gold your boss is
carryin' around?

RF: I know you Southerners aren't too bright, so yeah, I'll spell it out
for you... you want the belt.

MC: Well, right-in-one, Ryan.  You bet your butt I want that
championship.  That belt Johnny Pleasance is dragging around, I want it
around my waist.  And, if I'm lucky, my victory over you tonight's gonna
be the first step along the way to getting that title shot, and getting
that belt, and winning the RCW Championship.

[Coleman smiles his easy grin at Faith.]

MC: Did you follow that line of thought, Ryan, or should I speak a tad
slower for ya?

[Faith smiles and turns around... as he walks away he stops and turns
back around.]

RF: Ya know, you're the one who has to prove himself, not me.  You have
to prove that Ogawa was the only reason you didn't pin me.  You have to
prove that your victory over Ogawa wasn't a fluke.  You have to prove
that.  Me?  Hell, I'm not the one with the gold.  I ain't got a thing to
prove.  Fact is, you didn't beat me the first time... and you won't beat
me this time.

[Faith walks away for good after that parting shot, and after a quick
close-up of Coleman looking serious -- I mean, how else could you
describe it? -- we cut back to the announce table at ringside.]

DD: Mark Coleman faces Ryan Faith later on tonight, and if he wins, he's
one step closer to a title shot at RCW Champion Johnny Pleasence. 
Folks, when we come back, the legendary Lord Byron will face off against
Orin "The Lynx" LeBlanc.  Don't go away!

[Fade to commercials.]




[Fade back from commercials.  Fans cheer as the camera pans down past
the happy faces at ringside.]

   ___  ______      __ 
  / _ \/ ___/ | /| / /  
 / , _/ /__ | |/ |/ /   Orin "The Lynx" LeBlanc vs. Lord Byron 
/_/|_|\___/ |__/|__/    


DD: We are back, and that's interesting. Mick Silvestri -- the manager
of Nathan Herod -- still hasn't left ringside.

[Indeed, Silvestri is perched on a chair near the ring, with a notebook
in his lap.]

DD: Any idea what Silvestri is doing there?

BS: I don't know. He's probably amazed at his good fortune, that his
client was handed a cheap win due to the interference of Lord Byron in
attacking not just Derek Rage, but Pizzazz as well! Now I would have to
say that one was going a bit too far.

DD: Now _there's_ an understatement.

BS: Deliberate.

DD: I assumed. Folks, I don't know if this is a coincidence or what, but
Lord Byron is in action next, and he'll be facing the "Lynx," Orin
LeBlanc.

BS: Here's where Steve Roberts would insert a "Matt LeBlanc" joke.

DD: Yes. Let's get down to the ring.

[Sy Simmons is in the ring with the microphone.]

SS: Ladies and gentlemen, this next contest is to one fall! Introducing
first...

[Big pop as "Do The Evolution" by Pearl Jam kicks in over the PA, and
the curtains at the head of the aisle are thrown aside.  The burly
Canadian Orin LeBlanc strides out and makes his way down the aisle.] 

SS: ...hailing from St. Catherine's, Ontario, Canada, and weighing in at
265lbs, here is... OOOORIN "THE LYYYYYYNX" LEBLAAAAAANC!

[LeBlanc opens his arms wide and allows the fans on either side of the
aisle to reach out and touch him, a smile tugging at the corners of his
mouth.]

DD: Looking at Orin LeBlanc, you get the feeling that he's still not
used to hearing the cheers of the fans directed towards him, Billy
Shakespeare.

BS: Indeed not, Don -- but LeBlanc has shown that he's a man of
character as well as a tremendous wrestler.

DD: Certainly he was put through the wringer by Nolan Dorado's main
squeeze, Jodee Burwick, and he's emerged on the other side with his
integrity intact -- which is more than can be said for Burwick.

BS: Not to mention that he's put together some impressive victories.  He
was unlucky not to come out of that No Escape cage match at Wild Summer
Night with the win.

[LeBlanc climbs the ringsteps and steps into the ring, raising his fists
to the crowd, who respond with an even bigger pop!  And then, suddenly,
LeBlanc's demeanour changes, the big Canadian immediately looking more
business-like, turning his attention to the head of the aisle, waiting
for his opponent to arrive.  "Do The Evolution" fades over the PA, and
the crowd hushes in anticipation.]

SS: His opponent...

[Byron's special remix of "Galvanize" by the Chemical Brothers kicks in
over the PA, to a big heel pop from the fans!]

SS: ...hailing from Lancashire, England, and weighing in at 255lbs, here
is... LOOOOOOOOOORD BYYYYYYYYYYRON!

[Big heel pop as Byron steps out into the aisle, strobe lighting behind
him in the entranceway casting him in a silhouette, the profile of a
dandy, hair tied back in a pony-tail, leaning on his brass-topped cane. 
After striking his quintessential pose, Byron makes his way down the
aisle, and as he steps out of the strobe lighting, it becomes obvious
that his hair isn't quite pulled back into a perfect pony-tail, wisps
flying free here and there.  His head is not tilted upwards in the usual
sneer of superiority -- and his eyes look a little reddened, the hint of
dark circles below them...]

DD: Lord Byron... doesn't look like himself tonight.

BS: You're right, Don. Normally, he looks arrogant, superior and
completely self-entitled. But tonight, his veneer of sneering egotism
seems completely cracked.

DD: You are right. I mean, he attacked a woman, unprovoked, and it was
totally unnecessary. His rage is normally a lot more targeted. What
could have happened to him?

BS: Could it be that Liam Cassidy happened to him? I don't think Byron
can handle having been bested by anyone, let alone an untrained rookie
who stumbled into our fine sport by accident.

DD: That untrained rookie is a powerhouse, though, I'll tell you that.
In the meantime I hope Pizzazz is OK, and Derek Rage as well.

[Byron leans his cane against the ringsteps and climbs into the ring,
untying his hair as he does so.  Match official Jim Bright is in the
ring, and points to the timekeeper.]

* DING! DING! DING! *

[The two combatants circle.]

DD: These two combatants don't seem concerned at all by the presence of
Mick Silvestri at ringside. I figure he's out scouting possible
opponents for Nathan Herod. Byron and LeBlanc, hooking up in a collar
and elbow tie-up, and... wait a minute. Hold the phone.

BS: Looks like Silvestri isn't the only visitor to this match.

[Appearing at ringside are two men. Two brothers.]

DD: We are joined here at ringside by... [sigh]... Owen "Truth" Curtis
and also, his brother, Eddie "Flash" Curtis, who I thought was persona
non grata around here.

BS: This is a surprise.

[Owen has on a white dress shirt, tie, slacks and polished shoes on,
while Eddie is in cargo pants and his "I'M FULLY DEVELOPED" T-shirt.
Soon to be available everywhere.]

DD: Sorry, guys, we weren't expecting you. But you're welcome to join in
on commentary. One problem... you'll have to share the one guest headset
that we have. We've never had TWO guests at the same time before.

[Owen is seen taking a seat between Ditka and Shakespeare, donning the
above-referenced headset, as Eddie stands behind him.]

OWEN "TRUTH" CURTIS: That won't be necessary. After all, this is my
show. Could you guys back in the truck hit my music?

DD: Huh?

[Four clacking drumsticks signal the start of "Stranger Than Fiction,"
by Bad Religion.]

OTC: No. Not that. The music for my show.

[The ascending intro riff to "Stranger Than Fiction" cuts off, as Byron
grapples LeBlanc into the corner.]

OTC: Duh. The Eurhythmics. Come on now. My lawyer explained this to
those rocket scientists in the truck, as well as that Keystone promoter
Spreadbury. Although I guess Spreadbury then forgot to explain it to Don
and Billy here.

BS: You got that right. Owen, I don't know what the hell you're doing
out here, or what you could possibly be talking about. In fact, I don't
have a clue. But I don't like it, that's for sure.

[Byron pummels LeBlanc with some fists.]

OTC: Well, Billy, I don't _expect_ you or your pea-sized literary talent
to like it, but the bottom line is this. You and Don here -- Double D, a
man named after a set of boobs -- have to leave. In fact, you're using
my brother's headset right now. Damn! I should have brought some Lysol
to clean it off or something. My music please? I haven't got all day.

[LeBlanc reverses and gets in some punches of his own, as "Would I Lie
to You" cranks up.]

DD: I still don't get this. [Then it dawns on him.] Oh no. Don't tell
me.

OTC: What?

DD: I think I know what you're doing. You have the contractual right to
hold your show, Ring of Truth, anytime you want. And you're doing it
right now, as a protest for not being booked on this card. In other
words, you're interrupting this match. Pretty juvenile if you ask me.

[The two combatants in the ring have stopped and are leaning over the
top rope to see what the devil is going on at the announce table.]

OTC: Wrongo, Donny boy. If I wanted to interrupt this match, I'd be up
there [points to the ring]. Right? But guess what? I'm down here. So,
some detective you are. But you're right about this being my show. The
much esteemed Ring of Truth is on now. I'm in control of it. And while
this match we're seeing in the ring IS a part of it... you and Billy
aren't.

[Jim Bright is talking matters over with LeBlanc and Byron, but then
Byron cheapshots LeBlanc behind the referee's back.]

DD: We most certainly are. We're calling the action!

[LeBlanc tries to tear into Byron, but the ref holds him back.]

OTC: That's nice. You can practice to yourselves in the back while
watching some REAL announcers do their jobs. Now I have documents with
me from my attorney, Charlton J. Chesapeake, Esquire, that I can show
you if you need convincing of that. In the meantime, you're violating my
contractual rights. So Billy, hand your headset to Edward here, and Don,
set yours down gently, back _away_ from the table, before no one gets
hurt, legally or otherwise, and both am-scray. That means scram. Get
out. Get out before I have you thrown out.

[LeBlanc hops down to ringside, asking what's going on, along with
referee Jim Bright. Byron follows.]

OTC: Ref, please count these men out if they don't get back in the ring.
This is a legal match under Ring of Truth rules, and I don't remember
calling any time-outs. Proceed.

[Byron, indifferent to the Curtis brothers, throws LeBlanc back into the
ring, and follows him in.]

BS: You'd better hope you're on solid ground, Owen, or I wouldn't want
to be you. [handing headset to Eddie] Please treat it respectfully. Aw,
who am I kidding? This is Eddie Curtis I'm talking to here. He's not
even supposed to be here.

OTC: This is my show, and I can have who I want on it. It's all in that
settlement contract from a few months back! If Spreads didn't like it,
he shouldn't have signed it! Maybe he needs better counsel -- but that's
not my problem!

[Ditka, already having taken off his headset, speaks a few last words
into the mouthpiece, as LeBlanc and Byron run the ropes and criss-cross
each other]

DD: This better not be a ruse, or I'm sure you'll be hearing from the
Board of Directors. And, from my personal attorney. So enjoy your fun
now, guys -- you'll be hating life later. Let's go, Billy.

[Ditka and Shakespeare walk off, leaving the Curtis brothers to call the
action.]

EDDIE "FLASH" CURTIS: [adjusting his newly-obtained headset] Hello?
Hello? Are we on? Testes, testes -- one, two, _three_? Whoa -- talk
about fully developed!

[They high five each other.]

OTC: Folks, do not adjust your set. We control the horizontal. We
control the vertical. You are about to be taken to a place... much
better than Rip City Wrestling! Welcome to...

EFC: The Twilight Zone?

OTC: No, Eddie! We went over this. Welcome to the Ring of Truth! I'm
your promoter, Owen Curtis. And this match, between these two fine
competitors, is our inaugural contest. After all, I can have anyone I
want from the RCW roster on my show, and I chose these two! Mostly
because they just happened to already be out here! Don't worry, Don and
Billy will be back later, just as soon as OUR show is over. Meanwhile
this match is to one fall, or to a television time limit!

EFC: My girlfriend's television time limit is three hours! After that,
she usually has to get off the couch and go pee!

OTC: Will you stop, Eddie!? The Truth is a great thing, but that my
friend was an overshare. Besides, we have a match to call here, such as
it is. Tell you what. I"ll cover the action, in my fair and completely
unbiased way, and you can kind of just, you know, fill in with some
color commentary.

EFC: You got it!

[LeBlanc and Byron collide and both hit the mat.]

EFC: See? This match is more exciting with us out here already!

[The two men are back on their feet fairly quickly. They lock up, and
LeBlanc goes behind and hooks up a hammerlock. Byron tries to elbow his
way out of it, but LeBlanc ducks that and then delivers a forearm to the
back of Byron.]

OTC: That's for sure. LeBlanc, wisely trying to wear down and frustrate
Byron. Eddie, do you know what "LeBlanc" means?

[Byron reverses the hammer into a hammer of his own.]

EFC: What?

[LeBlanc breaks free, the two men face each other, and the Lynx delivers
a crushing forearm smash!]

OTC: It means "The White."

[And another smash!]

OTC: Yep -- Orin The White! Which means he's Orin the White Lynx! Kind
of like White Lion, that crappy 80s metal band!

EFC: Ewwwww! "When the Children Cry" indeed!

[LeBlanc sends Byron for the ride, then tries for a clothesline on the
rebound, but Byron slides under... and out of the ring.]

OTC: That's relevant though. See, I think that while Orin isn't crying,
he IS a little upset that he didn't pull off the duke at Wild Summer
Night. He didn't lose, but he didn't win. And anyone who doesn't win, is
a loser. So he's hoping to take that out on Byron, here, who's all
discomboobulated that he lost to, of all people, Liam Cassidy.

EFC: Someone you humiliated his first night here.

[LeBlanc goes out after Byron, then thinks better of it and rolls back
in the ring. Byron seems puzzled, as if he expected Byron to chase him.
He yells something at LeBlanc, who shrugs. Bright counts... so Byron's
back in too. LeBlanc is waiting for him with both hands raised.]

OTC: Well... LeBlanc is inviting Byron to a test of strength. And Byron
is hesitating. I would too. The other guy's 6 foot 5 inches tall and
weighs more. It doesn't say "test of strength" on the marquee -- it says
"wrestling," which means suplexes and ground moves and such. Not
"mercy," Indian burns, and paper/scissors/rock.

[But LeBlanc keeps goading, and finally Byron accepts. They grasp
hands.]

EFC: Ahhh... holding hands. The first stage of young romance. Unless you
date me. Then it's...

OTC: Ah, ah, ah! We have a family audience here! Byron clearly is NOT
getting the better of this test of strength.

[No, as LeBlanc slowly but surely has bent Byron's wrists back. His look
of smug superiority morphs into a mask of agony. But then --]

EFC: OUCH!

OTC: Well, that's one way to break a hold.

[Indeed, as Byron has kicked LeBlanc in the nuts. He follows with a
swift European uppercut! LeBlanc stumbles back into the corner. Byron
pins him in the ropes and hits...]

OTC: Uppercut! And another! And another!

[Bright taps Byron on the shoulder to warn him to break, but Byron
ignores it and Irish whips LeBlanc to the opposite corner with a thud!]

OTC: Man! What force! I just think the wrestlers work harder when they
know they're on the Ring of Truth!

EFC: Really? When you name yourself after a cat, I'm not sure that
you're aware of much at all! Certainly not of people making fun behind
your back!

[Byron runs into the corner where LeBlanc rests, and lowers a shoulder
into the gut. Then another. And a third. Finally he tucks his head under
LeBlanc's armpit and elevates him out of there.]

OTC: Northern! Lights! Suplex! Wow. The technical artistry on display
here is second only to, well... mine.

EFC: Watch that, Owen. People don't like announcers who put themselves
over at the expense of the talent.

OTC: I was complimenting him. You'd think he could take a compliment.
The nerve.

[Byron's back up quickly, grabbing LeBlanc by the head and bringing him
to his feet. He whips LeBlanc around and right back into the corner
again.]

OTC: Byron, pinning LeBlanc in the corner... European uppercut! And
another! And a third! Such punishing anger from the English aristocrat!

[Uppercut!]

EFC: Aristocrat!? Wait a minute! This is like a dream match! The
aristoCRAT... versus the aristoCAT! It's like Snakes on a Plane, only
better! Like Merchant and Ivory directing a Walt Disney production!
That's enough to make Harry Knowles turn moist!

[Uppercut!]

OTC: A walk out to fetch the mail, or get a bowl of Lucky Charms, makes
Knowles turn moist. From sweating, that is.

EFC: True dat. I still wish I had my camera so I could capture LeBlanc
taking all this abuse.

[Uppercut!]

OTC: [Imitating Bugs Bunny from the old Warner cartoons] Ehhhh... so
Pete Puma, how many more lumps do you want?

[Uppercut!]

EFC: [Imitating Pete Puma's unique vocal intonation] Duhhhhh... I'd like
maybe... um... five or six lumps... [He follows this with Pete Puma's
trademark -- the indescribable, but we'll try, "grinning wheeze of
supreme stupidity")

[Two more uppercuts! And a thir--]

OTC: Blocked! LeBlanc blocked a punch -- and he answers back with a
European uppercut of his own!

[Crowd pop!]

EFC: Coming from him, that would be more of a "you're a peon" uppercut,
because compared to Byron, that's what he is! A peon!

[More of them! Some to the chin... and a few directed more towards the
head and neck! The crowd chants along!]

CROWD: TWO! THREE! FOUR!

[Double time.]

CROWD: FIVE SIX! SEVEN EIGHT!

[LeBlanc blows the dust off his knuckles and backs away. Lord Byron,
woozy, takes three steps forward -- then flops flat on his face.]

EFC: All that was illegal! Closed fists! Disqualify him eight times! One
for every illegal punch!

OTC: Hey, that's the risk Byron takes by being here in the center of the
wrestling universe -- the Ring of Truth. Here, you have to either nut
up, or shut up, and the Truth don't shut up. Not ever. So I would
disagree there.

EFC: Fine. As long as it's not me taking those illegal punches. Giving
them is cool, though.

[LeBlanc pounces on the prone Byron. He faces away from him, grabs his
legs, and leans back into a Boston Crab.]

OTC: Well, I have to hand it to the white kitty. Sound strategy here,
first punching and then placing pressure on the head and neck. Byron's
head is his biggest asset.

EFC: You did say asset, right?

[Byron's head is turning progressively redder, both due to his inverted
position, and his anger.]

OTC: This is what Byron always dreaded... becoming a redneck. Literally.
And who can blame him? But it's kind of inevitable when you spend all
that time around dense fans like these here in the Rose Garden.

EFC: Unless you're smart like us, Owen. We Curtis brothers are pretty
much idiot proof. We're roses in a field full of weeds.

OTC: Amen to that.

[LeBlanc keeps leaning back, applying more pressure, but Byron struggles
back, trying to reach forward towards the ropes. He makes headway, but
then LeBlanc drags him back to the middle of the ring. Byron then
quickly reverses it into a small package.]

OTC: One... two... no!

[The two men get up and Byron snap mares LeBlanc over, then knees him in
the back! Followed by a dropkick to the back of the seated Lynx! He runs
to the ropes, then rebounds with a baseball slide, kicking LeBlanc
again! He springs to his feet, waiting for LeBlanc to rise... then
tosses him right out over the top rope when he does!]

OTC: [muffling his voice with his fingers] Courtesy clerk! Courtesy
clerk to the front counter! We need a clean-up on aisle nine!

EFC: Someone spilled some kitty litter, and I think it was Byron!
Please, nobody step in that!

[Referee Jim Bright gives Lord Byron strong admonishment, which he
ignores completely as he goes out between the top and middle ropes. He
jumps down onto the groggy LeBlanc with a double axe handle to the dome,
sending the Ontario native crashing backwards to the padded arena
floor.]

OTC: You know, I just don't think Lord Byron cares.

EFC: About children? The hunger crisis in Ethiopia? The Vietnamese bird
flu? The high price of gasoline?

OTC: About anything, Eddie.

[Byron, quickly to the outside, lays in the stomps on LeBlanc, who is on
his hands and knees. Finally, fed up that he is not decimating the Lynx
enough, he kicks the top half of the corner ring steps off their
platform, picking them up. Jim Bright, the ref, jumps off the apron to
the outside and cuts him off. In the background, we can see Mick
Silvestri -- manager of Nathan Herod -- scribbling furiously on his
notepad at ringside.]

EFC: Well, he seems to care about being disqualified, because Bright was
about to ring the bell, if Byron had used those steps as a weapon.

OTC: You notice Silvestri still sitting there with his pad. I hate
intruders in matches. The man doesn't even belong here, and he adds
nothing to the entertainment value.

[LeBlanc crawls over towards Silvestri, looking up at the manager. He
motions for Silvestri to get out of the chair so he can use it, but then
waves him off and rolls back into the ring.]

OTC: LeBlanc is back in, not quite standing up as straight as he did to
start the match. Lord Byron, for that matter, isn't, either.

[Bright is back in the ring, but Byron takes his time climbing in.
Bright cuts off LeBlanc, who would like to lay in some stomps as Byron
rolls in. Byron shoves his way past Bright but is stunned by a kick to
the midsection, followed by a gutwrench suplex! LeBlanc with the
bridge...]

OTC: One! Two! And Byron kicks out!

[Byron's up, LeBlanc's up, and they're instantly in a collar and elbow
tie up. LeBlanc's strength wins out and he forces Byron over to a
corner. Byron reverses the momentum at the last second and shoves
LeBlanc up against the turnbuckles. He grabs the tag rope and starts
choking LeBlanc with it!]

OTC: Leverage over strength! And Lord Byron is the master of leverage!

[Bright can't see the rope, because it is artfully concealed behind
Byron's forearm. To the ref, it looks like a headlock in the corner.]

EFC: I'm telling you, that powerful headlock is just choking the life
out of Orin LeBlanc! Byron is expertly cutting off the man's air! And
without oxygen, you're dead in the water! And cats don't like water!

OTC: [laughing] No, Eddie --- no. They do not.

[Bright carefully inspects this highly effective "headlock" -- then gets
wise and starts counting to five. Byron breaks it off at 4 and 15/16. He
shoots a look at Bright, then knees LeBlanc in the "midsection."]

OTC: But man! It's like I told you! Lord Byron just does not care! He --

[Commotion in the aisle, as a thousand heads rise and crane to see.
It's...]

OTC: Derek Rage! Derek Rage is on his way out here, with his head
bandaged up, thanks to the earlier injuries inflicted by Lord Byron, and
security is all over that!

EFC: Speaking of all over that, you think Pizzazz would mistake me for
Derek Rage? She got hit in the head pretty hard, and... well... I'd like
me some of that.

OTC: She's not even out here, Eddie. She must be hurt too bad from that
earlier --

EFC: But Owen, I've said it before, and I'll say it again! A woman is
never hurt too bad for the Flasher to make them hurt so *good*! With
Eddie Curtis, every exposure turns out perfect!

[Security holds Derek Rage back, but they're not the only ones who
notice him. Lord Byron is leaning out over the top rope, barking away!]

OTC: What an interesting --

EFC: Got a riddle for you! Who can walk in the spotlight but not have a
shadow with him? Derek Rage! What do Derek and Liberace have in common?
They both wish their brother was here!

OTC: Folks, this is why you don't feed the kids energy drinks after 6
p.m. Good one though!

[The crowd pops as LeBlanc is on his feet, behind Byron, sizing him up
for the... ]

OTC: Cobra Clutch! LeBlanc locks it in, and it's followed by the Beast's
Burden suplex! Byron let himself get distracted! He didn't have any
inkling that was coming! Not a clue!

[LeBlanc covers. Bright counts!]

OTC: One! Two! Three!

EFC: He kicked out!

OTC: Too late though!

[LeBlanc is already out of the ring as Bright points to the timekeeper.]

* DING! DING! DING! *

SS: Ladies and gentlemen... your winner, as the result of a...

[Simmons stops in his tracks, shocked, as Rage has entered the ring as
quickly as Byron exited! And he's pounding away at Lord Byron with a
torrent of lefts and rights!]

OTC: Your winner is Orin LeBlanc, but what's Derek Rage doing here?! He
doesn't belong here! This is unfair! LeBlanc should be disqualified for
this!

[Rage pounds on Byron, backing him to the ropes, then whipping him
across. He nails the rebounding Byron with a flying lariat! When both
men rise, he follows that with an exploder suplex!]

EFC: Sheesh. If this is what you get for nailing Pizzazz, maybe I don't
want to. Get caught, you know. But it's not like she'd remember anyway,
what with her bump on the noggin and all. It's like having the cashier
fall asleep at the sushi-go-round! Free tuna for everyone!

[Byron's back up, out of instinct as much as anything, and runs smack
dab into an overhead press! All 7 feet 2 inches of Derek Rage hold Byron
more than eight feet above the surface of the ring, when one considers
arm length! Rage looks to the crowd to find out in which direction to
launch the English nobleman! The crowd screams its approval!]

OTC: No! No! Don't do that! You could injure him! Derek Rage has no
right! No right at all!

[Rage goes to throw Byron out to the floor, but Byron hangs on to the
wrist, and wraps his legs around the top rope as he flies over. His
leverage propels Rage over, out and down to the outside mat!]

OTC: Kill him!

[Byron does his best to comply, picking up the ring steps from earlier
and smashing Rage in the head with them, with a sickening metallic
thwack! The crowd responds with thunderous boos!]

OTC: Lord Byron sending a message to Derek Rage! And he's not finished
yet!

EFC: Damn! Where's my camera?! This should be one for the scrapbook!

[Byron lays the groggy Rage down chest first on the floor, near the
bottom half of the ring steps, and sets Rage's right hand on the bottom
of the steps. He goes back for the top half...]

OTC: No... no...

EFC: You mean, yes! Yes!

[Byron raises the ring steps over his head -- then smashes them down
right onto Derek Rage's hand! And if that's not enough, he hops up to
the apron, jumps, and legdrops the top half of those steps, smashing
Rage's hand further!]

OTC: Brilliant! Let's see Derek Rage break out his patented Hammer of
God *now*!  Let's see him do that with a broken hand!

[The cameraman at ringside focuses on a bruised, sweaty but very pleased
Lord Byron, who inhales and exhales with a devilish smile of
satisfaction. The cameraman then turns to the collapsed Rage, still
splayed across the bottom half of the ring steps, clutching his hand
with extreme anguish as Jim Bright motions for medical help.]

OTC: Well, Eddie, you know what I call this?

EFC: What?

OTC: I call it progress. Only one match here on Ring of Truth, and
already we've removed one dimwitted, afro-coiffed beanpole from the pool
of competition! We've improved things already! I think our work is done
here, don't you?

EFC: I don't know. Legally, we could stay here all night if we wanted. I
could have a case of Henry's brought out here, and...

OTC: Yes, but then folks wouldn't see the contrast between our quality
and the others' lack thereof! This way, they'll see that the excitement
is over, and the boredom is just beginning! Come on, let's allow Don and
Billy to work so they can justify their paychecks and prove our
superiority! Why should we do all the work?

EFC: Because we're better?

OTC: I think these folks have had enough Truth for one evening. In any
case, it's far more than they deserve. I'm the older brother. I say
we're out of here.

EFC: Sure. Just one thing.

[Owen and Eddie rise, tossing down their headsets, but not before Eddie
can hork up an ENORMOUS loogie and spit into one of the earpieces.]

###hhhhhhhhorrrrrrrrrrrrrcccchchhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-patooie!##

EFC: Hah! I just gave Shakespeare a Wet Willy!

OTC: You kill me, Eddie. Seriously. But let's roll... like THUNDAH~!
[turning to the camera] You have just been hit with the Ring of Truth!
Anything else would be just plain sucky! Peace out! [He kisses his right
hand then makes a peace sign at the camera with it.]

SS: Ladies and Gentlemen... your winner, as the result of a pinfall...

[Owen whispers something to Sy on his way to the aisle, and out of the
arena.]

SS: I stand corrected. Your winner in this RING OF TRUTH sanctioned
match, as the result of a pinfall... The "White Kitty"... Orin LeBlanc!!

[Owen and Eddie, yukking it up and having a blast of a time, pass Don
Ditka and Billy Shakespeare in the aisle as the latter two make their
way back to ringside. The Curtis brothers are oblivious to the angry
glares from DD and the Bard of Ashland, as the truck plays them out to
"Would I Lie to You?"  Ditka picks up his headset and puts it back on,
adjusting the microphone as he pulls his chair in.]

DD: Well, we're back.

[Shakespeare looks at his headset, and a look of total disgust crosses
his face.  He tosses the soiled headset down on the ground, and stalks
away from ringside.  Ditka looks in the direction he went, then looks
back at the camera.]

DD: Those damn Curtis brothers!  Billy -- well, Billy Shakespeare has
temporarily left ringside.  We're going to take a short commercial
break, and during the break we'll get a new headset out here.  We'll be
right back.

[Fade to commercials.]




[Fade back to a wide shot of the arena.  We hear Ditka's voice-over.]

DD: Welcome back to RAMPAGE, folks!  This is Don Ditka at ringside, and
I have now been rejoined by my broadcast colleague "Spotlight" Billy
Shakespeare.

BS: I bet Eddie and Owen Curtis are backstage yukking it up right now,
Don.

DD: Let's hope that their interruption is finished for the night.  We
have to get back up to the ring for more action, as "Golden Boy" Nolan
Dorado takes on the first hobo of wrestling, Liam Cassidy.

   ___  ______      __ 
  / _ \/ ___/ | /| / /  
 / , _/ /__ | |/ |/ /   "Golden Boy" Nolan Dorado vs.
/_/|_|\___/ |__/|__/    "The Jersey Drifter" Liam Cassidy


[Cut back to the ring where RCW's ring announcer Sy Simmons stands tall
in the center of the ring, clutching his wireless microphone.  The
official for the match, Jim Bright, stands in a corner awaiting the
competitors.]

SS: Ladies and gentlemen, this next contest is scheduled for one fall.
Introducing first...

[Jack Johnson's instrumental "Hobo Blues" hits up on the speakers and
the crowd pops loudly.]

SS: Making his way down the aisle, weighing in at two hundred and thirty
seven pounds... He hails from Hackensack, New Jersey... "The Jersey
Drifter"... LIIIIIIIIIAAAAAAM CASSSSSSSSSSSIIIIDDDYYYY!!!

[A spotlight illuminates the aisle where wrestling's first and only hobo
steps out. Cassidy tips the rim of his worn and tired black fedora hat
towards the crowd as they cheer for him. Clad in his "Just One
Second..." undershirt and a pair of blue jeans, the mangy superstar
heads down the aisle, clamouring to clap as many hands as he can.]

DD: There he is, the man that was victorious at Wild Summer Night -- due
in no small part to your training, Billy Shakespeare.

BS: I may have shown Liam some of the basic fundamentals of wrestling,
Don, but that war he had with Byron was all Liam. He showed us what he
was made of by fighting with more heart than I have seen in any
competitor in quite some time.

DD: Some said it couldn't be done, but Liam Cassidy defied the odds by
defeating Byron at the pay-per-view.

[Pausing only to take a quick sip from his dented silver flask, Liam
continues on his way to ringside. Once there, he makes his rounds around
ringside, slapping fans and even pausing for a few photos with some
lucky fans. The smile on Cassidy's face is undeniable: he may be the
happiest "down on his luck" hobo there is. Once he is range of his famed
"Hobo Section", Liam clamours up onto the apron and points to them and
shouts...]

LC: Where's my hoboes at?!

[...to which the section of costumed (we hope) fans roar in unison and
raise their collection of flasks and other drinking paraphernalia. Liam
nods and toasts with his fan club before removing his black fedora and
digging into his pockets to remove his wallet, spare change, a comb and
the flask and places each item into the hat. Lastly he removes the
silver cross pendant around his neck, gives it a quick kiss and tosses
in the hat as well.]

DD: Mr. Cassidy going through his unusual pre-match rituals. 

[He calls to one his hoboes and gently tosses the hat to him for
safekeeping before stepping between the ropes, ready to do battle.]

BS: You know one of these days Don, someone's going to take off with
that hat and wallet.

DD: Somehow I doubt they'd get very much. 

["Hobo Blues" is replaced with "What's Golden" by Jurassic 5.]

SS: Introducing his opponent...

[Cassidy paces in the ring as he stretches out his arms. All attention
is turned to the aisle where a golden spotlight glows down as two
figures make their way into the arena.]

SS: ...accompanied to the ring by Jodee Burwick... hailing from Tacoma,
Washington, and weighing in at 236lbs... he is... "GOOOOOOOOLDEN
BOOOOOOY" NOOOOOOOLAN DORAAAAAADO!

[Spoting shiny gold wrestling pants with the words "Golden Boy"
imprinted on the outside of each leg, "Golden Boy" Nolan Dorado poses
for the crowd. He wears gold laced white boots and gold colored
wristbands. Covering his shoulders is his golden robe, and the shiny
gold wraparound sunglasses of course cover his eyes.]

BS: Don, do you think this guy likes gold?

DD: Ha ha. Maybe just a little.

[Jodee Burwick looks stunning in a matching gold dress. The two pause
long enough to soak in the "admiration" of the fans before they make
their way down the aisle.]

DD: Unlike his opponent tonight, Nolan Dorado came up short at the pay
per view, but give credit where credit is due. Nolan Dorado, Orin
Leblanc and Vinny Carmazi stole the show that night and it wouldn't
surprise me if Dorado is eager to get back to his winning ways with a
victory over Cassidy here tonight.

BS: You aren't kidding, Don. I saw some things from Dorado that I never
thought I'd see. I don't agree with his attitude, but his in-ring skills
impressed the heck out of me. This should be a good one.

[Burwick climbs the steps first and holds the ropes open for her man.
Nolan steps into the ring and poses for a moment before removing the
golden wraparound sunglasses. The music fades while he takes aim at
Cassidy and flings the glasses into Liam's face.]

DD: And now for Nolan's prematch ritual.

[Before they can strike him in the face, Liam raises his hand and
catches the "gift" from his opponent. Smirking, Liam tosses them out
into the crowd as Dorado looks on in shock! Big pop from the fans.]

DD: And Liam Cassidy will not be intimidated by The Golden one. 

BS: Look at that, Don! 

[The camera cuts to a particularly scruffy looking fellow at ringside, a
member of The Hobo Section. He has caught the glasses from his idol and
puts them on, preening for his friends at ringside and draws a big laugh
from the crowd, and angry words from a furious Nolan Dorado.]

BS: I'm not sure Nolan's going to want those back after that.

* DING! DING! DING! *

[As the bell sounds, Jodee Burwick exits the ring. Cassidy stands in a
corner, grinning as Nolan continues to holler at the fan. Jim Bright
attempts to calm Dorado and return his focus to the match.]

BS: He'd better stop caring about the fans at ringside and focus on the
man he's in the ring with. Liam Cassidy is a dangerous man -- just ask
Lord Byron.

DD: True, Billy Shakespeare, but keep in mind that this is, what? Liam's
tenth professional wrestling match? Something like that. Meanwhile
Dorado is a graduate of the Keening School Of Grappling Arts. He has
been groomed for this business and has a wealth of knowledge at his
disposal.

BS: I'm not taking anything away from the man's credentials, Don. I'm
just saying he should focus on his match.

[Deciding enough is enough, Liam clamours out of his corner and taps
Dorado on the shoulder. Nolan blows him off, assuming it is still the
referee. Liam looks to the crowd and shrugs his shoulders before
whipping Dorado around and plastering him with a right hook that drops
the Golden Boy to the mat!]

DD: Right hook! Right hook! My god, it could be over right here!

[Proving he's learned a few things during his short career, Liam drops
to the mat and covers Dorado quickly, but only gets a short one-count
before Nolan quickly scrambles out of the lateral press and under the
bottom rope to the floor.]

BS: He didn't hit him with it all there, Don. But that was plenty enough
to send the message to Dorado.

[Seeking consultation from his valet, Nolan stands at ringside as
Burwick gives him some instructions. Jim Bright begins to issue a count
on Nolan whilst Cassidy steps between the ropes and holds them open,
inviting Dorado back into the ring.]

BS: Geez, in all the pre-match happenings, I almost forgot that Mick
Silvestri is still here at ringside taking notes. Do you think he's
scouting the Golden Boy or The Jersey Drifter?

DD: It's possible, Billy Shakespeare.  Both men could be valuable
additions to Silvestri's talent pool, if that is indeed what he is out
here for.

[Nolan cautiously climbs up the stairs to the apron, approaching the
ropes where Cassidy is perched.]

DD: You don't see a lot of sportsmanship like that these days in
wrestling.

[Siezing the opportunity, Nolan pays Liam for his act of kindness by
snagging him in a running clothesline from the apron. Cassidy bounces
backwards into the ring as the crowd jeers Dorado for taking advantage.
Smirking with a "I can't believe that worked" look on his face, Dorado
uses the ropes to slingshot himself over and drops an elbow down across
Cassidy. He covers...





1...








2...







...and Cassidy quickly kicks out.]

DD: And that is why you don't see that happen often.

BS: Nolan Dorado took advantage of Cassidy's inexperience. A more
seasoned pro wouldn't trust a man the likes of Dorado like that. And of
course, shame on Nolan for exploiting that fact. 

DD: Well, if anyone loved it, it was Jodee Burwick. She is happily
cheering her man on.

[A quick shot of Silvestri taking notes on his clipboard is shown as we
cut back to the ring where Dorado pulls the scraggly warrior up and
pushes him back into the corner. Dorado fires off a hard knife-edge
chop, but Liam seemingly absorbs the blow much to the delight of the
crowd. Nolan slaps him with another, but again Liam soaks it up and as
Nolan is he's got another for him. Dorado sure does, but again, it
doesn't have much effect on the possibly drunken superstar.]

DD: Dorado's knife edge chops seemingly having little effect on Liam
Cassidy. One has to wonder just how much Cassidy felt those blows.

[Deciding it's his turn, Liam reaches out and whips Nolan into the
corner and fires off with an ugly palm slap down across the bare chest
of The Golden Boy to a huge pop from the crowd.]

BS: Look at the pain on Dorado's face! You can bet he sure felt *that*
one!

[Liams rears back, preparing to take Nolan's head off with a wild fist,
but the quicker Nolan sidesteps it and in a fluid motion, leaps into the
air and peppers Cassidy with a drop kick on the square of the jaw,
knocking the hobo down to the mat again.]

DD: Billy Shakespeare, if you're Nolan Dorado, what do you do to
counteract those devastating fists of the Jersey Drifter?

BS: Dorado should do exactly what he is doing. Utilize his superior
speed and agility as much as he can. Cassidy hasn't been in the ring
with a fast opponent like Nolan Dorado before. He's used to a slower,
more methodical pace of match. As long as he keeps it speedy, the
advantage lies with Dorado.

[Pulling Liam back up, Dorado sends him for the ride with an Irish whip
but has it reversed as Liam sends Nolan to the ropes. Rebounding from
the ropes, Dorado is taken down to the mat via a hip toss that sends
Nolan flying through the air and crashing down on the mat. The crowd
pops for Liam as he smirks.]

DD: Surely you taught him that, Billy Shakespeare.

BS: Indeed I did, Don. Cassidy has a very basic repertoire of moves, but
it's those basics that can win matches. Look at Nolan. He wasn't
expecting such a classic wrestling move from the Jersey Drifter.

[Nolan slowly rises up and is immediately met with a collar to elbow tie
up from Cassidy. Although both men are evenly matched in size and
weight, Cassidy powers Nolan back into the corner where the official
orders for a clean break. Having learned his lesson the last time, Liam
slowly relinquishes his lock on Nolan, but quickly pays for it as Dorado
thumbs Liam in the eye.] 

DD: Come on ref, get in position!

[Nolan gets a supportive cheer from Jodee Burwick at ringside, but
that's about all the support he gets, as the crowd in the Rose Garden
boo him mercilessly. He doesn't seem to mind much though as he leaps at
Cassidy with a spinning leg lariat that knocks the New Jersey native
backwards into the corner. From there, Dorado backs up and charges
forwards at Liam, leaping and nailing a picture-perfect springboard back
elbow right into Cassidy's jaw that drops the Drifter down to the
canvas. He quickly covers!  Bright drops to make the count...







1...










2...









...and Cassidy gets a shoulder up!  Big, big pop!]

DD: And that doesn't quite do it! Cassidy found a way out of that one.
And now Nolan Dorado is pulling Cassidy up and backing him into the
corner. He's kicking away at him!

BS: I think he's trying to avoid getting into any fisticuffs with
Cassidy. He doesn't want any of that boxing experience to come through
in this match.

[On the fourth kick, Cassidy catches the white boot of Dorado to a big
pop. Cassidy smirks.]

LC: I got you now, lad.

[But Dorado is quick to prove Liam wrong as he leaps into the air and
drills Liam in the back of the head with an enzuguiri spin kick. He
doesn't go down, but he stumbles backwards to the ropes, holding himself
up. Nolan quickly bounces off the ropes and springs into the air, taking
out Cassidy with a diving clothesline that sends both men over the top
rope. Liam crashes on the protective matting at ringside while Nolan
holds onto the ropes and skins the cat back into the ring. He doesn't
get much love from the Portland crowd for his efforts, but Jodee Burwick
loves every moment of it.]

BS: Dorado needs to follow up here, hit Liam while he has him on the
outside. I don't think Liam was expecting this kind of a match from
Dorado.

DD: I don't think he was expecting a match like this at all. This just
shows that he's still got a lot to learn about the world of professional
wrestling. But what better place to do it than right here in RCW?

BS: That was a shameless promotional plug, and you know it, Don.

[As the official begins to count Liam out, the Drifter slowly pulls
himself back to his feet with the help of the retaining barrier. He
glances up at Dorado in the ring, mocking Liam by offering to hold the
ropes open for him,  but is quickly distracted by Jodee Burwick who
begins hurling insults at the Drifter.]

BS: Ignore her Liam, you've got a match going on!

[Cassidy glares at her and motions towards her. He hardly has any time
to see Nolan Dorado flying through the air as he leaps off the ropes and
pulls off an asai moonsault to the floor! Too bad for Dorado that Liam
did in fact see it coming, and manages to sidestep the Golden Boy's
aerial tactic, sending Nolan crashing to the mat in a giant thud. The
crowd pops as Jodee can't believe what she just saw. Liam decides to
help Nolan back up and quickly rolls him into the ring. He stops only to
turn to Burwick and give her the raspberry before slipping into the ring
and covering.  Again Bright makes the count...







1...











2...










...thr--foot on the ropes!]

DD: Nolan Dorado crashed hard on the mat, but still had the sense to put
his foot on the ropes to break the pin. Excellent ring awareness by the
golden one.

[Yanking extra hard on the golden one's blonde hair, Liam pulls Dorado
up and locks him in a belly-to-belly suplex. But instead of the fine
technical move, Liam instead opts to smash the top of his skull into
Dorado's, pounding him with headbutt after headbutt. The crowd roars and
counts them out with Liam as he lays in ten headbutts before finally
lifting Dorado off his feet and slams him to the mat with a
belly-to-belly suplex.]

BS: Nolan Dorado has a glazed look in his eyes after those headbutts.
And you know Liam is just softening him up for that right hook or the
Pikey Layover.

DD: Did we just see Mick Silvestri smile?

[If we did, it's too late for the camera to catch it as the manager goes
back to his notes, jotting something down. Back in the ring, Liam pulls
up Nolan to a vertical base before shooting in and grabbing Dorado's
leg.]

DD: He has him by the leg, but what's he going to do here?

[Nothing before Dorado repeats his enzuguiri manoeuvre. However Liam
demonstrates that he is in fact a quick learner, as he catches the
second foot in midair, grabbing a hold of both legs now.]

DD: What's this going to be? A slingshot?

[Using his uncanny raw strength, Cassidy begins to spin around, holding
Dorado by the legs. He twirls around with a modified airplane spin
before releasing his grip on Dorado, sending Nolan flying across the
ring and crashing to the mat hard. The crowd appreciates the unorthodox
move and roars loudly. Liam quickly points to his Hobo Section before
dropping an elbow down across Nolan's chest.]

BS: Attaboy, Liam! He's been controlling the momentum of this match now,
all after Dorado crashed and burned with that attempted Asai moonsault!

DD: Liam Cassidy pulls Dorado up. He goes behind with a rear waist lock.
He's going for a German suplex!

BS: If he hits it, it could be all over!

[Liam rears back, attempting to suplex Nolan to the mat. Dorado has a
firm grip of the top rope however, preventing Liam from pulling off the
move. Nolan fires back a series of elbows until Liam relinquishes his
grip. Liam charges at Dorado with a clothesline, but Nolan is able to
slip under it and reach out to grab Cassidy by the neck and plant him to
the center of the ring with a swinging neckbreaker. He doesn't cover
though as he takes a moment to get his breath back and size up Liam for
his next move.]

BS: I'd hate to say it, but that was a beautiful counter to Liam's
attempted clothesline.

DD: Nolan Dorado once again utilizing his cat-like speed to regain the
advantage.

[As Liam sits up in the center of the ring, it's all the opportunity
Nolan needs to charge forward and leap into the air with a shining
wizard kick! Cassidy drops forward, ducking the move and causing Nolan
to tumble towards the ropes. Nolan turns around and charges back at
Liam, but Cassidy is up and lifts Dorado and uses the momentum to send
him up high into the air with a back body drop! HUGE POP!]

DD: PIKEY LAYOVER!!! PIKEY LAYOVER!!!

[As Dorado crashes to the mat, Liam reacts fast by hitting a huge
uppercut on the Golden One! Dorado crumbles to the mat in a heap as
Jodee Burwick goes berserk on the floor at ringside!]

BS: He hit that out of nowhere! I can't believe it! And look at Dorado!
He is out of it!

DD: Jim Bright is checking on Nolan Dorado now! He may have been
legitimately K.O'd after a blow like that!

[As Jim checks on Nolan, Jodee Burwick decides now is as good a time as
any to interject herself into the match. She quickly digs down deep into
the cleavage of her dress and pulls out an object. She calls for Liam
and tosses him the object.]

DD: What the heck is that?

[Liam instinctively reaches out and catches the object, with a confused
look on his face. Bright stands back up, and Jodee quickly scrambles up
onto the apron and calls for Jim's attention.]

DD: What on earth is going on here?

BS: Nolan Dorado's been knocked out, that's what, Don! Liam, cover him!
Cover him!

[Covering him would be futile at this moment, because Jodee Burwick
screams at Jim Bright to check Liam over. Opening his palm, Liam sees
that Jodee Burwick has tossed him a set of golden brass knuckles.]

BS: What the heck is going on?

[Burwick continues screaming. "Check him! Check him!". Bright turns
around to face Liam who quickly clues in to what is going on, and
immediately hides his hands behind his back.]

DD: She can't be serious! She's ordering Jim Bright to check Cassidy for
a foreign object! 

[Bright demands to see what is in Liam's left hand. Naturally, Liam says
nothing, but Bright demands that he see his hand. Liam slowly moves his
hand forward and shows it. It's empty. Big pop from the crowd.]

BS: I can't believe what we are seeing! Nolan Dorado is having a chance
to recover!

[Bright then demands to see the other hand. A wide eyed, panicked look
sets in on Liam as he knows exactly what will happen if shows Bright his
hand. Jodee continues to scream from the apron. "Do it! Check him! He
cheated!". Bright has had enough and grabs Liam by the hand and pulls it
forward, showing the set of brass knuckles in his palm. Bright quickly
confiscates the weapon and turns to the timekeeper.]

* DING! DING! DING! *

BS: What the heck?

[Big heel pop!  Bright quickly exits the ring and approaches Sy Simmons,
giving him orders.]

SS: Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of the match as a result of a
disqualification, "THE GOLDEN BOY" NOLAN DORAAAAAADOOO!!!!

BS: That's not right!

[No it's not, and the entire Rose Garden is letting Bright know it by
booing loudly!  Dorado begins to show some life as he rolls to the side
of the ring.  He is completely being ignored by Cassidy, though, who is
too busy screaming at the ref, telling him that he didn't use the
weapon.]

DD: Jodee Burwick is helping her man out of the ring. Look at that smile
on Burwick's face! She knew exactly what would happen! She just won the
match for Nolan Dorado!

[The dazed and confused Golden Boy thrusts a victorious arm up in the
air, as he leans on Burwick who can barely hold up the frame of the
victorious wrestler. Cassidy isn't done berating the referee Jim Bright,
throwing in numerous profanities and curse words as he attempts to plead
his innocence. As "What's Golden" plays on the speakers Burwick quickly
herds her man up the aisle to the back, not wanting to stick around the
ringside area for too long. A pissed-off "Jersey Drifter" hollers at
Bright, but realizes that it's useless and that he's been had.]

DD: What a way to lose a match, especially when victory was within his
grasp! Did you see Dorado, Billy Shakespeare? He was nearly out cold
after the Pikey Layover!

BS: I saw it, Don, and so did Liam Cassidy! He knows he had this match
one, but he got screwed out of the win here tonight. No way around it,
Jodee Burwick just screwed The Jersey Drifter.

[The upset hobo exits the ring and quickly gathers his stuff from the
fan holding his belongings. Instead of the usual post-match drink with
his Hobo Section, Cassidy heads backstage with a purpose, continuing his
protest.  Cut back to the announce table at ringside.]

DD: And now, folks... hang on!

# Nobody does it better
Makes me feel sad for the rest
Nobody does it half as good as you
Baby, you're the best #

[The spotlight shines as Danny "Your Hero" Daniels walks out into the
aisle.  He's looking slightly different.  The blonde hair is still to
his shoulders, and the wraparound sunglasses still adorn his face.  But
he's wearing a long flowing sequined robe, black with "YOUR HERO"
written in yellow on the back.  The robe is tied around his waist with a
belt.  He grins and gives a Ôthumbs-up' gesture as he walks down to
ringside.]

DD: Danny Daniels, blissfully silent for once.

BS: True.  But he was crowing about something last week On The Wire, and
even more ebullient than usual. 

DD: He's promised us a big announcement, and he's certainly dressed for
the occasion!

[Danny climbs into the ring as Carly Simon's "Nobody Does It Better"
dies down, allowing Danny to speak with the house microphone.]

D'YH'D: GREETINGS AND SALUTATIONS!

BS: And so ends the silence.

D'YH'D: I'm "Your Hero", Danny Daniels, a man so nice they named me
twice!  And this past month has been an OUTSTANDING month for "Your
Hero"!  Sit on the edge of your seats, my loyal fans, for I have some
great news for you!

[Danny clears his throat before beginning.]

D'YH'D: First, I defeated Comdoc the Unspeakable in a Classic Technical
Battle of wills and wits.  Yes, I, "Your Hero" Danny Daniels, have made
RCW safe for grand apparel everywhere! 

[Danny gives a "thumbs up" gesture, then takes a deep breath.]

D'YH'D: And then, last Tuesday... in Vancouver, Washington, RCW held a
tournament.  A thirty-two man tournament, involving every wrestler in
RCW.  Every wrestler, every manager, every official, referee, employee
in RCW.  Plus four people in the front row to round out the tournament.

DD: I have no idea what he's talking about, Billy Shakespeare.

[Danny begins untying his robe.]

D'YH'D: And when that tournament finished, standing at the top of the
heap was... ME!  "Your Hero", Danny Daniels, a man so nice they named
him twice.  And the reward for winning that grueling tournament?

[Danny opens up his robe.  He's wearing his black trunks and the "YOUR
HERO" t-shirt.  But around his waist is a title belt.  It's a golden
belt, slightly smaller than the RCW World Title.  Around the edge of the
front reads "RCW SUPREME CHAMPION".  Big pop!]

DD: What's going on here?!

[In the middle of the belt is a metallic picture of... Danny Daniels,
posing.  Danny himself poses in the exact same position as his picture
on the title belt for a moment, then speaks.]

D'YH'D: I became the first RCW SUPREME CHAMPION!

DD: What in the world...?  RCW has no other title holder but the RCW
Champion, Johnny Pleasence!

BS: Apparently Danny Daniels thinks otherwise.

DD: Danny Daniels thinks that elephants grow on trees!

[Danny poses some more with the title belt, then chuckles and points a
finger at the announce table.]

D'YH'D: Ah, Dave Dickerson... you gave me an epic battle.  That third
round match!  It took me twenty-five minutes, and I won't lie -- there
were times I thought you had me.  That figure-four leglock...

[Danny shakes his head ruefully.]

D'YH'D: If I hadn't reached the ropes, I might have had to submit.  That
was a close call.

[Danny wipes fictional sweat off his forehead.]

DD: What?  I didn't wrestle last week.  I didn't wrestle last week, last
year, or at any time in my 20-year career!

BS: Third round!  Not bad for a first-timer, Don. 

DD: Don't you start, Billy.

[Daniels now addresses the fans once more.]

D'YH'D: But as "Your Hero" -- and your Supreme Champion -- I plan on
being a fighting champion.  Any RCW contender is welcomed to challenge
me for my title by going to President Spillane and getting a title shot.
 After all, I owe it to the people to be the type of champion they
deserve. 

[Danny poses again with the belt.]

D'YH'D: But that's for later.  Tonight, I'm here to bask in my title
victory and celebrate with my fans.  After all, it's because they need a
hero that I'm needed.  To be their heroÉ

[Danny removes the belt and hoists it in the air.]

D'YH'D:  And to be their Supreme Champion.

[Pause]

D'YH'D:  TOODLES~!

["Nobody Does It Better" starts up again and Danny poses with the belt a
little more before exiting the ring, beaming with pride and clutching
the title belt by holding it to his chest as he walks up the aisleway. 
Cut to the broadcast table at ringside.]

DD: Folks, I honestly don't know what to make of this development. 
Clearly there was no thirty-two man tournament last week... but is this
title sanctioned by RCW?

BS: Sounds like the "voice of RCW" has a little digging to do... 

DD: Indeed.  Folks, when we come back, Tennessee rookie Mark Coleman
will face Ryan Faith -- and the stakes are high.  If Coleman is
victorious, he's one step closer to a match against RCW Champion Johnny
Pleasence.  And still to come tonight, in our main event, Johnny
Pleasence will defend that championship against Vinny Carmazzi.  Let's
hear from Carmazzi right now.

[Cut to the backstage area where Jamie Bond is standing in front of the
RAMPAGE interview set, microphone in hand.  Next to him is the man who
will be challenging for the RCW Championship later tonight, the 12-year
veteran, Vinny Carmazzi.  Something isn't right.  Not the fact that he
is receiving his first-ever title shot, but his demeanor in the moments
leading up to it.  Although he doesn't get out in the sun very often,
his face is a ghostly shade of pale.  His shoulder-length dirty blonde
hair falls haphazardly over his face.  It is not enough to obscure the
uneasy look in his dark brown eyes.  He lifts a trembling hand up to rub
knots out of the back of his neck.  Knowing the camera's on, Vinny tries
the best he can to look confident and tough, like a champion or
potential-champion would in this situation.  But like most of his
career, he's failing miserably.]
 
JB: Hello, fans.  I'm joined right now by Vinny Carmazzi.  My first
question has to be... are you alright?
 
[A deep breath does nothing to soothe his troubles.  Vinny tries his
best to act like nothing is wrong.] 
 
VC: Uhh-yeah.  Umm... I guess.
 
[Jamie just looks at Vinny.  His expression conveys that this isn't
right at all.]
 
JB: It's okay to be nervous before such a big match.  I always try to
tell Liam that's it's okay to be _sober_ before such a big match too.
 
VC: I... I... it's not just nerves.
 
[The mix of grey and green on Vinny's face insists otherwise.]
 
VC: Cassidy... he's never at a loss for words.  Coleman... always knows
the right thing to say.  Rage never has a problem speaking.  LeBlanc
gets his message across.  Hell, even Driscoll plays the part when he's
in front of the mic.
 
[Carmazzi's shaky hand reaches up to wipe the beads of sweat from his
face.]
 
VC: I come out here [loud exhald] and c-can't say anything.  Words don't
come like they do for Pleasence.  Guys like Curtis.  Byron.  Even
Daniels. I... I... I... I.......
 
[He takes a breath and tries to recapture his train of thought.]
 
VC: I......
 
[He throws his hands up, frustrated with himself.]
 
VC: [softly]...yeah.
 
[A sympathetic Jamie Bond tries to come to the rescue.]
 
JB: But for you, it's not what you SAY.  It's always been about what you
DO!
 
[He points off-camera.]
 
JB: Out there.  In that ring.
 
[Carmazzi's spirits lift for a moment.  But his shoulders drop again.]
 
VC: Yeah... but who's to say I have what it takes out there?  Enough to
become champion?  Maybe I'm really not among the best.  Lost all those
years for a reason.
 
[Jamie gives Vinny a look of disbelief.]
 
JB: It just might be my opinion, but you did a bang-up job at Wild
Summer Night.  I heard that is what earned you the title shot tonight. 
You went into a steel cage against two men and got a decisive
victory....
 
[Jamie stops abruptly. He sees the pep talk is having no visible
effect.]
 
VC: Coleman can get someone down and keep them down a million different
ways.  Cassidy could knock someone out in just one second.  Rage has
incredible size.  LeBlanc has power to spare.  Even Driscoll... finds a
way to get ahead.
 
[Carmazzi does not even enjoy the dig on his rival.]
 
VC: But what do I have?  I'm not the biggest.  I'm not the strongest. 
I'm not the most athletic.  I don't have the most impressive arsenal of
moves.  I don't have a long history of success, big wins, or
championships. 
 
[A restless Carmazzi doesn't even look into the camera anymore.]
 
VC: For the last few days, I've been thinking only one thing...
 
[He looks right at Jamie, almost hoping that he could give an answer.]
 
VC: ...what is it that gives me any chance against Pleasence tonight?
 
[Jamie, unable to provide the answer Vinny is clearly looking for, just
shrugs his shoulders.  Vinny exhales loudly and stares into the
distance.]
 
VC: ...I don't know how I'm gonna be able to do this.  I just don't
know...
 
[His whole body communicates resignation as he starts to walk off.
Jamie, who should be used to the grossly unexpected from all his times
with Liam Cassidy and Madrock the Irrepressible, looks back in the
camera and flashes an awkward smile.  Fade to commercials.]



[Fade back from commercials to a wide shot of the Rose Garden, the ring
bathed in spotlights.]

   ___  ______      __ 
  / _ \/ ___/ | /| / /  
 / , _/ /__ | |/ |/ /   Ryan Faith vs. Mark Coleman
/_/|_|\___/ |__/|__/    


["God Hates A Coward" by Tomahawk kicks in over the PA to a big pop as
Sy Simmons takes his place in the center of the ring.]

SS: Ladies and gentlemen, the following match is scheduled for one fall.
 Introducing first, accompanied to the ring by Dinah, hailing from
Southborough, Massachusetts, and weighing in at 220lbs...
RYYYYYYYYYAAAAAN FAAAAAAITH!

[The crowd reaction surges again as Dinah and Ryan Faith step out into
the aisle, arm in arm.  Dinah is wearing a tight black top with a
plunging neckline, the words "GOT FAITH?" emblazoned on it in bold white
type, and a very short skirt revealing her shapely legs.  Faith is
wearing his usual cut-off denim shorts, and is beaded with water from a
quick pre-match shower, his long brown hair pushed back out of his face,
his blue eyes glinting with determination.]

DD: One of the young lions here in RCW -- Ryan Faith.

BS: He's a very promising young competitor, Don.  Only 25 years of age,
he's racking up an impressive record.

DD: And tonight he faces a man he wrestled four months ago, Mark
Coleman.

[Cut to footage captioned "April 20th, 2006".  Faith rams boot after
boot into the midsection of Coleman, until the official finally drags
Faith away, allowing Coleman to get to his feet.  Faith pushes Bright
aside -- and Coleman explodes off the ropes, felling Faith with a
scintillating lariat!  We hear Ditka's voice-over.]

DD: Two rookies, meeting just two weeks after Coleman was narrowly
defeated by Paul Driscoll in the RCW Road To The Gold tournament,
putting on quite a display for the fans in the Rose Garden.

[...Faith turns, and is caught by a kneebreaker from Coleman, which he
follows up with a vicious clothesline!  Coleman brings Faith to his feet
again, and sends him for the ride.  On the return, Coleman hits him with
the drop toe-hold, and then immediately follows up with the elbow to the
small of Faith's back!...]

DD: Both men pulled out all the stops, and Coleman looked to have the
match under control, when it was interrupted by an unwarranted attack by
Akitoshi Ogawa, who caused Faith to lose the match by disqualification
-- and would divert Coleman away from trying to get back into the hunt
for the RCW Championship... until tonight!

[Coleman once again brings Faith to his feet, and puts his head between
his legs, nodding to the cheering crowd, who now chant "S-C-B! S-C-B!" 
As Coleman hoists Faith up with a gutwrench, there's a commotion as two
men vault the guardrail.  Akitoshi Ogawa slides into the ring as Coleman
has Faith up in the crucifix position, and wriggles free.  Coleman,
momentarily bemused, spins around to grab hold of Ryan Faith... and
comes face to face with Ogawa!  Coleman is felled by a clothesline from
the big man!  Big heel pop!  Official Jim Bright immediately signals for
the bell!  Cut back to live action, as Faith warms up against the ropes
in the ring.]

DD: After that night back in April, Faith allied himself with Johnny
Pleasence, and Coleman was put on the shelf by Ogawa, and finally
settled their score at Wild Summer Night in July.  Now Coleman has the
chance to wrestle his way to a shot at the RCW Champion -- but only if
he can beat Ryan Faith here tonight, and then Dave Bryant.

[Dinah gives Faith a kiss and ducks out of the ring, drawing a big pop
from the male fans in attendance as she bends herself over the second
rope on her way to the apron.  Tomahawk fades over the PA.]

SS: And his opponent...

[The guitar at the opening of "Copperhead Road" by Steve Earle kicks in
over the PA, to a big, big pop from the crowd!]

SS: ...hailing from Memphis, Tennessee, and weighing in at 251lbs...
here is... MAAAAAAAARK COOOOOOOOOOOLEMAAAAAAN!

[Coleman strides out to the head of the aisle, and stands there, bathed
in spotlights, his hands on his hips, his well-defined upper body
casting shadows in the harshness of the light.  The look on his face
can't be disguised by harsh light, however: the familiar, wide,
easy-going grin is in evidence, as always, as he looks around the twenty
thousand fans on their feet.]

DD: And here he is!  Just listen to these fans, Billy Shakespeare!

BS: These fans love Mark Coleman -- even more so since he took a stand
against Johnny Pleasence, Dave Bryant and Ryan Faith at Wild Summer
Night.

DD: Coleman came to the aid of "Pistol" Paul Driscoll as he was waylaid
by Pleasence and his cohorts, and he may have put himself right in the
sights of the vicious, crazed RCW Champion.

BS: That won't bother Coleman one bit, Don.  This young man is ready to
step up and take his shot at the big belt.

[Coleman makes his way down the aisle, slapping hands with dozens of
fans as he heads to the ring, arms outstretched to touch him.  He climbs
up the ringsteps, ducks through the ropes, and marches right past Faith
to climb to the second buckle in the opposite corner, throwing his arms
up in the air, to the renewed cheers of the crowd.  Coleman hops down
from the turnbuckles, and comes face to face with Faith, the two men
standing nose to nose in the middle of the ring as "Copperhead Road"
fades.]

BS: Faith is giving up a good four inches in height and 30lbs in weight
to Mark Coleman -- but Faith may have the speed advantage.

DD: We saw how evenly matched these two men were four months ago.  In my
view, this one could come down to who makes the first mistake.

[Match official Pat Nickrick signals for the bell as the two men
continue to stare each other down, a big smile still on Coleman's face.]

* DING! DING! DING! *

[The fans start a familiar chant as they await the collision of these
two athletes:]

"S-C-B!  S-C-B!  S-C-B!  S-C-B!"

[Coleman nods and acknowledges the chants, but Faith's face twists in
anger, and he reels back and pastes a big slap on the face of his
opponent.  Heel pop!]

DD: Ryan Faith remembers how close he was to being hit with the Southern
Cross Bomb in their last encounter, and he doesn't want that to happen
again here tonight!

BS: Coleman isn't going to let Faith rile him up -- there's too much
riding on this match.

DD: Absolutely, Billy Shakespeare.  If Coleman pins Faith, he's only two
matches away from being the RCW Champion!

[Coleman turns his face back towards Faith and simply grins at him
again.  Faith reels back again and tries for a right-hand, but Coleman
ducks the swing, and drives his shoulder into Faith's midsection. 
Coleman sends Faith for the ride, and Faith ducks a clothesline attempt
from Coleman on the return.  Coleman wheels around, and Faith unleashes
a hard kick to Coleman's midsection.  Heel pop!]

DD: Faith with a kick right to Coleman's kidney!

BS: Coleman has to watch out for those educated feet, Don.

[Coleman is staggered by the blow, and Faith is quick to fell Coleman
with a clothesline of his own.  Pop!  As Coleman pops back up, Faith
bounces off the ropes, spinning around and going for a punch, but
tucking his fist in, and hitting Coleman in the chest with a discus
elbow smash.  Coleman staggers backwards again, the wind knocked out of
him!]

BS: What a rolling elbow smash!

[Faith stays on Coleman, slipping behind him and hooking both of
Coleman's arms behind his back, then heaving him up and over with a
double-arm reverse German suplex.  Heel pop!]

DD: Tiger suplex from Ryan Faith!

BS: We're seeing a different Ryan Faith here tonight.  He's not
attacking Coleman's legs, which is what I was expecting -- and perhaps
also what Coleman was expecting.  These holds are right out of the
puroreso playbook.

DD: Here comes Faith with the cover!

[Nickrick drops to the canvas as Faith covers Coleman and hooks the
leg...








1...








2...







...and Coleman kicks out!  Relieved pop from the fans!  Faith drags
Coleman back to his feet as Dinah applauds in support of her man at
ringside.  Coleman shrugs Faith off, and takes him down to the mat with
a double leg takedown.  Pop!  Coleman keeps hold of Faith's legs,
wrenching it around as he drops down to the canvas, torquing the knee
and driving his elbow into Faith's lower abdomen.  Coleman pops right
back up, and repeats this manoeuvre, then flips Faith over onto his
belly and applies a half Boston crab.]

DD: Mark Coleman is slowing the pace of this match right down, Billy
Shakespeare.

BS: This is a great example of how Coleman is maturing as a wrestler,
Don.  When he started out here in RCW, Coleman's instinct was to go for
the big, high-impact moves every chance he got.  Now he's starting to
realise the value of wrapping up your opponent and throwing him off his
rhythm.  Faith can't hit him with those suplexes or strikes while his
face is being ground into the canvas.

DD: Faith, though, is inching his way towards the bottom rope.

[Indeed, Dinah helpfully pushes the bottom rope towards Faith's
outstretched fingers, and Faith gratefully firmly grabs on.  Nickrick
signals for Coleman to make the break, but Coleman grits his teeth and
keeps the Boston crab locked in for a three count.]

BS: Another smart move from Coleman here -- use the rules to your
advantage.  If you can hurt your opponent for a few seconds more, do it.
 Sportsmanship is all well and good, but chess this isn't.  Nobody
rewards a clean break.

DD: Wise words, Billy Shakespeare.  Faith now, getting back to his feet.

[Coleman whips Faith into the ropes, and opens his arms to maybe lock on
a sleeper -- but we don't find out, because Faith launches himself with
a flying spinning kick, catching Coleman in the side of the head and
knocking the Tennessean down to the mat!  Heel pop!  Faith props himself
back up to one knee, pausing a moment to collect himself, and as Coleman
gets himself back up to a sitting position, Faith dives at him from
behind, grabbing hold of his neck as he rolls over him, snapping it
forward and then releasing it, Coleman's neck whipping back, the back of
his skull hitting the mat hard.  Big heel pop!]

DD: Faith is working over the head and neck of Mark Coleman, Billy
Shakespeare.

BS: It's great strategy from Faith.  That head and neck area is the
chief target for the Test of Faith -- and you have to believe that's
what he's shooting for.

[Faith rolls back to his feet, and basks for a moment in the jeers of
the crowd, the cocky youngster jawing with fans in the front row, as
Coleman rolls onto his side behind him, clutching at his neck.  Faith
turns back to Coleman and drags him to his feet, then spins him around,
ducks down, grabs hold of Coleman's neck behind him, and then drops to
the mat.  Heel pop!]

DD: Hangman's neckbreaker!  Faith is firmly in control here!

[Faith floats over Coleman, again hooking his leg, and Nickrick drops to
make the count...








1...








2...








...and Coleman kicks out!  Big pop!]

DD: Not enough to put Coleman away!  These young rookies are leaving it
all out there in the ring -- but Mark Coleman knows he has to beat Ryan
Faith in order to stand a chance of facing Johnny Pleasence.

[Faith again drags Coleman to his feet, and sends him to the ropes.  On
the return, Faith hits him with a vicious cutter, driving him right back
down to the mat.  Heel pop!  Faith drags Coleman to his feet yet again,
locks him into a front facelock, lifts one of his legs, and then hoists
him up... and *drives* him to the mat, his neck and shoulders hitting
the canvas hard.  Heel pop!]

DD: NORTHERN LIGHTS BOMB!  That could do it for Coleman!

[Again Faith goes for the cover, and again Nickrick drops to make the
count...







1...









2...








...and *again* Coleman kicks out!  Pop!]

BS: Coleman needs to turn the tide here, Don, and quickly.  He's got
stamina, and he's tough, but he's got to string some offensive moves
together.

[Faith drags Coleman to a seated position, and kneels behind him. Faith
grabs one of Coleman's arms, and folds it above his head, locking it
into his armpit.  Faith uses his left arm to lock a chinlock on Coleman,
and puts his right arm through the arch created by Coleman's arm,
locking his hands. Faith squeezes away, Coleman's neck twisted
painfully.]

DD: BUFFALO SLEEPER!  Faith could put Coleman out here!

[As Coleman struggles against the hold, the fans start to get behind the
Tennesseean:]

"S-C-B!  S-C-B!  S-C-B!  S-C-B!  S-C-B!"

[At ringside, Dinah yells at the fans to stop, holding her hands over
her ears.  In the ring, however, Faith pays no attention.  He continues
applying as much pressure as he can.  Suddenly, there's a commotion in
the aisle.]

DD: Hang on -- somebody's coming out here.

BS: It's Dave Bryant!

[Indeed it is.  A spotlight picks out the figure of Dave Bryant
sauntering out into the aisle.  Bryant is wearing jeans and a "BIG BAD"
t-shirt, and isn't dressed to wrestle.  He is followed out into the
aisle by two blue-shirted security guards, but he makes no move to go
any closer to the ring, so they leave him be.]

DD: If Coleman makes it past Ryan Faith here tonight, he'll face Dave
Bryant in two weeks' time to earn his shot at Johnny Pleasence.  But
that title match has to be looking even more distant right now --
Coleman can't even think about Bryant at this point.

BS: This is all mind games by Pleasence and his cronies, Don.  Bryant
knows exactly what he's doing out here -- he's insurance for Ryan Faith.

[In the ring, Coleman continues to struggle against the Buffalo sleeper
applied by Ryan Faith, and the fans renew their efforts to stir the big
young rookie from Memphis:]

"S-C-B!  S-C-B!  S-C-B!  S-C-B!  S-C-B!  S-C-B!"

[Nickrick checks on Coleman, who resolutely refuses to submit, and now
starts to force his way to his feet, his free arm and his powerful legs
pushing him up from the canvas, forcing Faith to his feet!  The fans now
really get behind Coleman, cameras flashing around the arena as he
forces his way up through brute strength.]

DD: Just look at this from Mark Coleman!  He's going to force his way
out of the Buffalo sleeper!

[As Coleman gets to his feet, his greater height means that Faith is
forced to release the hold!  Big pop!  Coleman turns to face Faith, who
takes a swing at him -- but Coleman blocks, and fires back with a hard
right hand of his own... and another... and another... and another!  The
crowd is on its feet as Coleman forces Faith back into the ropes, then
pops huge as Coleman winds up to send Faith across the ring with
authority.  On the return, Coleman grabs Faith and *drives* him to the
mat with a big powerslam!  Huge pop!]

DD: What rotation on that powerslam!  Mark Coleman is taking control!

[Coleman, fueled by adrenaline, drags Faith back to his feet again, and
slings Faith's arm over his shoulder.  He grabs a handful of Faith's
denim cut-off shorts... and then hoists him up vertically!  Cameras
flash all over the arena as Coleman holds Faith up for one... two...
three... four seconds... and then the crowd pops huge as Coleman takes
Faith down to the mat with authority!]

DD: Delayed vertical suplex!

BS: Coleman is finally kicking into a high gear in this match, Don, and
Faith could be in trouble!

[Coleman grabs Faith's ankle, flips him over onto his belly, and locks
his ankle inside his arms, applying maximum torsion to the ankle.  Faith
yells out in pain as his ankle is subjected to painful twisting.  Faith
pushes himself up on his arms, then ducks his head down and rolls out of
the hold... but as he gets back up to his feet, he's caught by Coleman,
who lifts him up and hits him with a kneebreaker, then follows up with a
hard clothesline, sending Faith right back to the canvas.  Big pop!]

DD: There's a Coleman trademark -- and Faith just got clotheslined clean
out of his boots!

[Dinah hops up onto the apron to distract Coleman, and Nickrick moves
over to the ropes to force her down to the floor.  This distracts
Coleman for a moment, allowing Faith to drive his forearm up between
Coleman's legs, bending the Tennessean double!  Heel pop!]

DD: Oh, give me a break!  Faith with the low blow, and Dinah had the
official distracted!

[Dinah gives Nickrick a sweet smile and drops down to the floor as Faith
brings himself back to his feet.  He brings Coleman upright with a
forearm uppercut, then sends him to the ropes and runs the ropes
himself.  Coleman ducks under a Faith clothesline attempt, and both men
hit the ropes again.  On the second pass, Faith launches himself with a
cross body-block attempt -- but Coleman ducks underneath it, and Faith
lands on the canvas hard!  Big pop!  Coleman pulls himself back to his
feet.]

DD: Coleman has taken a beating in this match, but he's still coming at
Ryan Faith!

BS: Look at Dave Bryant, Don -- he's inching closer and closer down the
aisle.

[Indeed, Bryant has now sauntered halfway down the aisle.  Coleman,
however, remains focused on his opponent, and drags Faith back to his
feet.  He bends him double, putting his head between his legs, and then
hoists him up with a gutwrench into a crucifix position.  The crowd pops
huge!]

DD: Here it comes, the Southern Cross Bomb -- Faith has been here
before!

[And, as before, Faith manages to wriggle free, sliding down Coleman's
back.  He wheels around, grabs a handful of Coleman's tights, and pulls
him down to the mat with a schoolboy!  Nickrick is there to make the
count...










1...









2...









...and Coleman kicks out!  Relieved pop!]

DD: Faith nearly stole this match right there!

[Both men get back to their feet, every fan in the arena now on his or
her feet, the crowd rabidly cheering for Coleman and jeering Faith. 
Dinah beats the palms of her hands on the apron, encouraging her man. 
Bryant inches closer to the ring, his "tail" of security guards keeping
close.  Coleman swings at Faith... Faith ducks the swing, and goes for a
back suplex... Faith lifts Coleman, but Coleman shifts his weight and
lands harmlessly behind Faith... Faith wheels around -- and takes a big
boot to the midsection!  Big pop!]

"S-C-B!  S-C-B!  S-C-B!  S-C-B!"

[Coleman hoists Faith up above his head in the crucifix position... and
then drops to a sitting position while *throwing* Faith forwards and
down, spiking the back of his head and neck on the canvas.  Huge pop!]

DD: SOUTHERN CROSS BOMB!  SOUTHERN CROSS BOMB!  HE GOT HIM!

[Coleman rolls onto Faith as Nickrick drops to make the count...








1...







2...







...3!]

* DING! DING! DING! *

DD: He did it!  He did it!  Coleman pinned Ryan Faith!

[Coleman rolls to his feet as Nickrick raises his arm in victory,
"Copperhead Road" playing over the PA as Sy Simmons makes it official:]

SS: Ladies and gentlemen, your winner by pinfall... MAAAAAAAARK
COOOOOOOLEMAAAAAN!

[The crowd is on its feet as Coleman turns to acknowledge their cheers,
and then... BIG HEEL POP!]

DD: CALL ME IN THE MORNING!  CALL ME IN THE MORNING!

[Quick as a cat, Dave Bryant shrugged off his security detail, and
charged the ring, sliding in as Coleman's back was turned.  Coleman
turned to acknowledge the fans -- and Bryant *blasted* him with his
trademark superkick, sending Coleman to the mat.  "Copperhead Road"
stops abruptly as the crowd gives a big heel pop!  Bryant bends low over
the prone form of Coleman and hisses something at him by way of a
warning, before moving to help Faith up to his feet and from the ring.]

DD: What despicable behaviour from Dave Bryant!  Mark Coleman earns a
tremendous, hard-fought victory over Ryan Faith, and Bryant blindsides
him!

BS: Bryant is just reminding Coleman that he's more than just an
obstacle on the road towards a match with the RCW Champion, Don.

DD: Coleman didn't need any additional motivation going into his match
with Dave Bryant in two weeks' time -- but he just got some.  Folks, we
have to take our final commercial break of the evening.  When we come
back, it'll be time for our main event!

[As Nickrick helps a groggy Coleman up to a seated position, fade to
commercials.]




[Fade back from commercials to an exterior view of the rear exit of the
Rose Garden where "Golden Boy" Nolan Dorado and Jodee Burwick can be
seen putting suitcases into the trunk of a taxi cab.  Clearly satisfied
with his performance earlier in the evening, Dorado magnanimously holds
the rear door open for Burwick as she is about to get into the cab.  But
she pauses as angry shouting can be heard and into view storms an irate
Liam Cassidy.  Dorado adopts a defensive stance as the "Jersey Drifter"
marches up to him but Cassidy doesnÕt attack physically as he begins
yelling at the "Golden Boy" instead.  Back in the arena, the crowd
watching this unfold on the giant video screen erupts in a chorus of
cheers although none of the participants in this little drama are aware
of their audience.]
 
LC: What the Hell was that?!?  You didn't beat me!
 
ND: That's not exactly what the announcer said, now is it?
 
LC: To hell with that lad,  you cheated!!
 
[Dorado smirks, flashing his trademark gold-capped incisors.]
 
ND: Technically, I didnÕt cheat.  My girlfriend, on the other hand, now
she might have cheated.  But what does it matter, I still won now,
didn't I?  Now if youÕll excuse me, I've got a plane to catch.
 
[Dorado turns to enter the taxi but he is stopped as Cassidy lays a
restraining hand on his shoulder.]
 
LC: Well, see now, that ain't fair!
 
[Dorado sighs heavily as he turns to face the "Jersey Drifter" once
more.]
 
ND: Look, Cassidy, IÕve got a newsflash for you.  Life isn't fair.  I'd
have thought a bum like yourself would know that all too well?
 
[Not appreciating the bum remark, a seething Cassidy stumbles over his
words.]
 
LC: Bum??  You... oh I oughta... lad... oh..
 
[Once again, Dorado turns to step into the backseat of the cab but this
time is interrupted by a verbal challenge.]
 
LC: I want a rematch!
 
[With one hand on the roof of the taxi and another holding the door,
Dorado turns with an amused look on his face.  Shaking his head, he
pushes himself away from the cab and squares off with Cassidy.]
 
ND: A rematch, you say?
 
LC: Aye.
 
ND: Well, how about *this* for your rematch!
 
[Dorado swings what could best be charitably described as a feeble swat
that barely grazes CassidyÕs chin.  Cassidy frowns as if Dorado had just
attempted to brush imaginary flies away from his face.]
 
LC: What the hell was that?!
 
[The "Golden Boy" holds up a clenched fist although the threatening
gesture is somewhat diminished by the fact that heÕs not doing a
particularly good job of it.]
 
ND: I just punched you!  Now back off before I do it again!!
 
[CassidyÕs expression is clearly one of derision.]
 
LC: *THAT* was a punch?
 
ND: Uh... yeah.
 
[Dorado begins to look a little concerned as he suddenly realizes that
his best punch might not be all that good.]
 
*KRACK*
 
[With devastating swiftness, CassidyÕs right fist lashes out in a swift
jab that smashes directly into the point of DoradoÕs chin, knocking the
"Golden Boy" flat onto his back.  Looking on in dismay from the back of
the cab, Jodee Burwick shrieks in alarm.  Big pop from the fans in the
arena!]
 
LC: No, *THAT* was a punch.
 
[DoradoÕs eyes are firmly closed as he lies on the ground, clearly
knocked out with one devastating blow.  From the back of the taxi,
Burwick clambers out and holds her hands over her mouth in shock as she
looks down at her unconscious boyfriend.  Suddenly, Cassidy bends down
and Burwick scrambles back with a squeal of terror as the "Jersey
Drifter" hauls Dorado up and tosses him lifelessly into the back seat of
the taxi.]
 
JB: Oh my God!  What are you doing?
 
LC: Well, the lad said he had a plane to catch!  And when he wakes up,
you tell him that in two weeks, I'll be waiting on him if he wants to
say anything about it.
 
[Burwick quickly scrambles into the back of the cab as Cassidy closes
the door behind her, tipping his derby hat as the taxi drives off with a
squeal of tires.  Smiling, Cassidy turns back and walks toward the arena
as the scene switches back to ringside.]

DD: Well, folks, it looks as if things between Liam Cassidy and Nolan
Dorado are anything but finished after their match earlier tonight! 
Welcome back to RAMPAGE.  It's now time for our main event, as RCW
Champion Johnny Pleasence defends his title against Vinny Carmazzi. 
Let's get up to the ring!

   ___  ______      __ 
  / _ \/ ___/ | /| / /  
 / , _/ /__ | |/ |/ /   RCW CHAMPIONSHIP:
/_/|_|\___/ |__/|__/    Johnny Pleasence (c) vs. Vinny Carmazzi


[Sy Simmons raises the microphone to his lips as RCW head official Juan
Morales slides into the ring behind him.]

SS: Ladies and gentlemen, the following match is tonight's main event,
and it is for the RCW World Heavyweight Championship!

["I Stand Alone" by Godsmack kicks in over the PA, and the lights in the
arena drop, bathing the ring in red light.  Big pop!]

SS: Introducing the challenger... hailing from Jersey City, New Jersey,
and weighing in at 235lbs... here is... VIIIIIINNNNNY CAAAAARMAAAAZZI!

[A single red spotlight hits the top of the aisle, and out steps Vinny
Carmazzi, his rusty blond hair slicked back against his head, his body
wet from a pre-match shower.  Carmazzi pauses a moment at the top of the
aisle, fidgeting with the tape on his wrists.]

DD: And here he is, Billy Shakespeare!  Vinny Carmazzi looks a little
awed as he stands on the threshold of his first ever world title match.

BS: We heard how Carmazzi's confidence has been shaken coming into this
match, Don, despite the impressive victory he scored over *two* men in
the No Escape cage match at Wild Summer Night.

DD: Carmazzi has travelled so far and worked so hard for this night to
come.  He's imagined it a thousand times.  He's wanted it so badly for
twelve years that he can taste it.  And now... now the moment is here. 
How does that feel, Billy Shakespeare?

BS: I didn't have to wait twelve years for my first world title match,
Don, but I can tell you that the hours before your first match for the
big belt are agonising.  Carmazzi has had plenty of time to think about
it, and that only makes it worse.

[Carmazzi heads down to the aisle, ignoring the fans on both sides of
the aisle who reach out to him.  His eyes are locked on the ring, but
the look of steely determination so characteristic of the New Jersey
native is missing.  He rolls into the ring, and allows Morales to check
his pads and tape, looking decidedly preoccupied.]

DD: Carmazzi had better get a grip on himself and focus, Billy
Shakespeare.  There may be nobody more dangerous in RCW than Johnny
Pleasence.

BS: Absolutely, Don.  Pleasence has shown time and time again that he
has a vicious streak a mile wide, and he'll do anything -- *anything* --
to ke