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DBrunkGXW
01-16-08, 04:46 PM
The arena's entrance.

A black Cadillac Escalade with tinted windows pulls up, and the door swings open, to the dismay of the audience, as the boos begin to echo. EPW World Heavyweight Champion and reigning King of the Cage, "Triple X" Sean Stevens steps out of his vehicle, right arm in a sling, with his wrist wrapped in a bulky white cast, dressed for success in a black "Ralph Lauren" suit, white dress shirt, black tie with grey trim, and matching black Alligator skin shoes -- his EPW title draped over his shoulder. As he shut the car door behind him, he took a second to glance around, and take everything in. There was something about his surroundings that just didn't feel right. As Sean entered the arena, he nodded in the direction of one of the security guards, while continuing his journey to the safety of his personal dressing room.

Coming down the end of a narrow corridor, a slight noise startles the champion, as he turns his attention to a dark, unlit area, where peering at him is none other than "Stalker" Jason Reeves. Walking slowly out of the shadows he looks at Sean grinning.]

Stalker: Well.. Well... If it isn't the champion of Empire Pro Wrestling himself, "Triple X" Sean Stevens. I can't believe you are here so early. Man I guess The Champion never can take a day off can he?

[Taken aback by the sudden appearance, Sean took a moment before answering, giving Reeves a once over, before clutching his title belt tighter with his good hand.]

Stevens: Like ... seriously ... do you literally just hang out in closets until the people you want to talk to or attack just show up? Dude, that sh_t is so not cool. You really live the gimmick, don't you? Can I help you with something?

Stalker: Straight to the point I see. Just like I remember you. You do remember me don't you? Wait.. it doesn't matter. What does matter, as you know, is what is going on concerning that belt you are clutching so tightly. If you haven't figured it out already, you have multiple people gunning for that belt of yours. You got Ice Tre, JA, Kin Hiroshi, Rocko Daymon and who knows who else is pining at Ryan's door for a shot at your gold. The question is do you truly realize the war that is going to unfold surrounding your gold?

Stevens: Why do you care? And, furthermore, do you realize how I GOT this belt?

[Stevens raised the title in the air.]

Stevens: I didn't get it by being talentless like Ice Tre, and I sure as hell didn't bribe anyone with blueberry muffins, ala that Hiroshi fellow. I'm not half the comedian that JA is, and I don't b_tch about being a True Professional without ever proving it like your boy. ...and, his wife for that matter. I won this title by going through every single wrestler on the EPW roster. I won battle royals, I won cage matches, and I beat the people that wrestlers like you idolize. I don't give a damn about a war. And, more importantly, I could care less about YOU. Because, I know that at a moments notice, once the opportunity presents itself, you'll crawl out of some broom closet, swinging a f'cking Stop Sign, like the lunatic that you ARE, and try to take my title as well. TRY being the key word.

Stalker: Whoa whoa.. Sean.

[Parting his hair from his face Jason looks at the title closer and then back to Sean.]

Stalker: I think we got off on the wrong foot. Rocko is not my boy, just like he isn't yours. We both hate his guts and to be honest I think that makes us more friends than enemies. Basically you are alone on top of that mountain, and if you look at past champions you'll realize none of them were alone. Troy had her fans, Melton had his brother, who do you have? You need someone to watch your back and I AM willing to put aside my desires for that belt for our combined effort at taking down the people we want taken down most. So you have to ask yourself, is your paranoia over my desires for the belt really worth not accepting an act of friendship considering how much is at stake?

[Stevens stepped in closer, he and the Stalker were now face-to-face.]

Stevens: Make no mistake, you're not my friend. I sit at the cool kid's table, you sit at the bottom of turnbuckles. You lurk in the shadows, I ... put b_tches heads in toilets in their hotel bathrooms. I am everything that you HATE, simply because I have everything that you want. If I shake your hand, if I decide to make you an ally, it's only a matter of time before you stab me in the back, because you WANT this... [He points to the title.] ...as badly as I NEED it.

And, don't mistake the amusement I get out of making Rocko look like an idiot time and time again with hate.I don't hate Rocko. He's not important enough for me to hate. If aligning myself with you means I have one less person trying to kill me, for the moment ... then that's what this thing is all about. If something should happen to Rocko Daymon along the way? ...so be it.

[Trip extended his hand.]

Jason looks at his hand and grins as he shakes it.]

Stalker: The best alliances Sean. The ABSOLUTE BEST ones are the ones that simply begin with two people who wouldn't trust the other as far as they could throw them. I believe that's where we are at right now. Now my only question to you is who do you want to win tonight?

[Jason says this grinning from ear to ear.]

Stevens: Does it matter? In the grand scheme of things, the person who wins this match wins the opportunity to LOSE to me at Blackdawn. And, if you've got my back, if you can really postpone nailing me with a Barbwire Baseball Bat until after Blackdawn, I'll destroy either one of 'em.
Flip a coin on it. Let fate decide who gets that magical date with destiny.

[Stevens dug in his pocket, tossing The Stalker a silver dollar. Reeves catches it.]

Stalker: Good idea.. both these guys don't deserve but someone obviously has to win.

[He flips the coin in the air, catching it, as it lands on 'heads'. Triple X smirks, backpeddling out of the camera's view.]

Stalker: Heads it is.

[Stevens turns and continues down the hall, finally coming up on his dressing room. He smiles confidently as he approaches the door. Even the sudden popping in of Mojo Massey doesn’t break his untouchable cool.]

Mojo!: Hey, champ!

Stevens: Sup, Moj?

Mojo!: Can I get a moment?

Stevens: Can’t. A little busy right now.

[Stevens walks by the interviewer and through the door to his room where his name is clearly labeled. The camera follows him in. The champion approaches the vanity mirror on the far wall… and suddenly stops in his tracks when he sees another figure in the room through the reflection. He slowly turns around…]

Stevens: JESUS, what’s with you people tonight?? What the hell are YOU doing in here?

[The camera follows his gaze, and falls upon ROCKO DAYMON standing in the blindspot behind the door. A quick nudge of his elbow closes the door, cutting off the lasting image of a curious-faced Mojo Massey in the hallway.]

Rocko: I think it’s time you and I had a chat.

[Stone faced, Stevens drops his bag and stands in a ready position.]

Stevens: This must be about what I did to your wife. Think I wasn’t ready to own up to this? Fine. Let’s go.

[Rocko doesn’t budge.]

Rocko: If I wanted to kick your ass, Sean, I’d do it in the ring, and with nothing but these hands of mine; no chairs, or stunguns, or sausages or anything like that. Nor would I try and fight you where you were at your most vulnerable… like here in your room… or right outside the curtain as you were coming back from the ring… or even in the privacy of your hotel room after a show.

I consider that sort of sh*t to be BELOW me. I have a little thing I like to carry around called “dignity”… something I don’t think a weak-minded camera whore like yourself could ever understand. That’s why every time they put us side by side and weight our every comparison and contrast, regardless of all your accomplishments and the names you’ve taken, they’ll always look at me as a man… and you as nothing more than a coward.

[Crossing his arms over his chest, a smirk forms over the champion’s face.]

Stevens: You get lost on your way to the utility closet, or are you here for a reason?

Rocko: Only to respond to your offer to “settle things” at the next Aggression.

Stevens: Yeah, and? You gonna man up to it, or what?

[Daymon steps forward, approaching just outside of striking range.]

Rocko: Consider your offer… declined.

[Stevens’ scoffs somewhere between amused and flabbergasted.]

Stevens: “Declined?” That’s IT? I give you the opportunity to stick to your guns and fight me in the ring like the BIG MANLY MAN you are, and you just REJECT it? Well fine. If you’re done wussing out on me now, you can get the hell out of here. There’s the door.

[Daymon doesn’t leave just yet.]

Rocko: Believe me, your offer is enticing… especially considering the LAST time you offered me a spot in a match, I ended up walking out with a World Title around my waist. But that’s not the way I want it to happen this time.

Don’t get me wrong, Sean… you and I will still meet in that ring. Only the venue won’t be Aggression, and it won’t just be any plain grudge match.

Somehow, some way, I’ll make it so that you and I meet at Black Dawn with the EPW World Heavyweight Championship on the line. You and I will finally settle it then and there. There won’t be a Muffin Man, Anglo Luchadore, Hardcore Legend, or Street K’ANG to stand in my way.

When all is said and done between us, and you’re on your back looking up at the image of me holding THAT title high over my head, it won’t be because it was given to me…

…but because I stepped up and took it on my own.

[Continuing to smirk, Stevens shakes his head. Rocko turns and heads for the door…and stops.]

Rocko: One other thing…

[He approaches the champ again, stepping into that comfort zone and standing nose to nose with his rival. Nearly identical to a similar face-off between the two at the last show.]

Rocko: Touch my wife again, and you’ll see first-hand what happens when I cast “dignity” aside and sink to your level. You won’t like it, Sean. I promise. When I get angry, I’ll do more than beat up on the same untalented Federline wannabe week after week.

I know you won’t want it to come to that… and to be honest, neither do I. That’s why I’m giving YOU an offer. Take what petty victories you have in this pride war with and walk away with the joy of having the last laugh. Until you and I hit the ring, whether it’s Black Dawn or a future date, whatever’s between us is on hold, for both our sakes.

In the meantime, I suggest that every night until then, you stay in this room until the assistant calls you to the ring. Don’t let me catch your face backstage for even a second, and pray you never cross paths with me or my wife again.

[Rocko opens the door and exits, followed out by the camera. Behind him, a poker-faced Sean Stevens disappears behind the closing door. Bearing no discernable expression, Rocko passes by Mojo, whose eyes nearly bug out of his head as he sees Daymon exit the room that Sean Stevens just walked into not more than a few minutes ago.]

Mojo!: Uh… Rocko?!

Rocko: Sup, Moj?

Mojo!: What just happened back there?

Rocko: Can’t talk right now. I’m busy.

[Rocko steps out of frame, leaving behind a rejected and somewhat flustered Mojo as we go to black.]

DBrunkGXW
01-16-08, 04:48 PM
[FADE TO BLACK……Then……]

[CUE UP: "Imperial March" - Rage Against the Machine. A video montage plays, featuring smoke-wreathed images of various wrestlers, some of them leaving blurred trails as they move.
CUT TO: Beast nailing the Absolution on Adam Benjamin.
CUT TO: Shawn Hart coming off the ropes with a Quebrada.
CUT TO: Felix Red standing victorious in the ring.
CUT TO: JA delivering the Karelin Driver to Ron Artest
CUT TO: Adam Benjamin delivering a Shining Wizard to Karl Brown.
CUT TO: Joey Melton, mugging for the crowd.
CUT TO: Lindsay Troy dropkicking Beast.
CUT TO: Ice Tre flailing away as he falls from a cage.
CUT TO: JA and Kin Hiroshi locking up in the middle of the ring.
CUT TO: Rocko Daymon, mugging with Caitlyn.
CUT TO: “Triple X” Sean Stevens on the second turnbuckle staring out into the crowd with the World Title raised overhead.
CUT TO: Dan Ryan sitting sedately in a chair, staring into the camera.
CUT TO: With a clash of metal, a logo slams across the screen, its edges flickering.]


[Pyro erupts around the stage and the ring itself as a wide angle shot of the crowd pans around the Kemper Arena before finally resting on the broadcast team.]
DT: Ladies and gentlemen welcome to Las Vegas, Nevada and Aggression 34!!! I’m Dave Thomas and with me as always are Dean Matthews and the one and only Mike Neely, who had a little bit of double duty lately….

DM: Yeah, what’s up with that Neely?

MN: Hey, the boss wants the best to represent the Empire in A1E. Who does he call? Me. He recognizes talent.

DM: Maybe he just figured if you got your head taken off it wasn’t really a big loss.

MN: Please. That’s not it at all.

[Thomas and Matthews just smile at Neely, whose **** eating grin disintegrates.]

MN: You don’t really think that’s it do you??

DT: Well, prerequisite needling aside we do have a pretty big show tonight. Everything going on lately with the ownership around here has in the very least set up some interesting matchups.

DM: Right. Well, Beast is taking on Felix Red tonight in a match dubbed “Felix’s rules” and having watched Felix compete in NFW over the last few years there’s really no telling what that will entail.

DT: In addition, the situation revolving around the #1 contendership to the World Title continues to get more and more complex as Rocko Daymon takes on Kin Hiroshi over that shot at the title, this time with Stalker as guest referee.

DM: Then in the main event, “Triple X” Sean Stevens goes one on one with one of the most successful men in EPW history….Adam Benjamin.

DT: Let’s go up to ring to Tony Fatora and our first match of the evening…

[“10001110101” by Clutch grooves in over the PA to the sound of bubbling bong water as a large “CC” logo appears on the EmpireTron emblazoned over a red cannabis leaf. For mood effect, the lights dim. A fog appears over the entry-way. At least, we’re meant to think it’s a fog.]

TF: Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first, being accompanied to the ring by “The Escape Artist” Erik Black… fighting out of Indianapolis, Indiana, and weighing in at a TITANIC 496 pounds… he is the “RAGING RUSSIAN”… IVAN DALKICHEV… of the CHROOOONIIIIIIIC COOOOLLLIZZZZIIIOOOOONN!!!!

[Camera cuts to a fan holding up a sign that reads “Formerly the Crimson Calling!” As the lyrics begin in the music, “THE ESCAPE ARTIST” Erik Black appears from the entry-way, releasing a powerful hit from “water pipe” affectionately named Geezer, and steps to the side to make way for his partner. Looming out of the mist behind him is the behemoth, “THE RAGING RUSSIAN” Ivan Dalkichev, sternly stepping onto the stage with a towel draped over his head and a nearly-empty bottle of vodka clutched in his hand. After a moment of looking into the audience, he downs the remainder of the liquor, SMASHES the bottle on the stage, and ROARS while pounding his chest like a raged animal! His partner leading the way, the big man makes his way down the ramp to the ring, where his opponent awaits.]

TF: His opponent… from the Bronx, New York… Sanket Desai!!

[Desai, in his corner, raises his arms as his name is announced, but is mostly overlooked as the audience watches at the antics of the CHRONIC COLLIZION!!]

DT: Well, fans, we have some singles action in just a few moments in what many would call a very unbalanced contest between two athletes.

DM: “Unbalanced” is hardly scratching the surface, Dave. Ivan Dalkichev is more than TWICE the weight of his opponent, Sanket Desai! We’ve got a real David and Goliath face-off here.

MN: This is gonna be like watching the Incredible Hulk fight the Flash… and not the real flash, I mean the cheap knock-off like Kid Flash, or something.

DM: Under normal circumstances, I would say that size is not always a determinant in every match. A well-versed wrestler could easily take down a man twice his size. However, in this situation, I’m not sure if I’ve seen enough in the newcomer Sanket Desai to be fully convinced he has what it takes.

DT: Regardless, I’m certain that Ivan Dalkichev is hoping to set a very clear message to the Proletariat tonight. Empire Pro’s first tag team champions are on an unstoppable path to reclaim their titles, and tonight may give the current champions something to consider.

[As Dalkichev climbs the steel steps to the apron, he briefly looses his balance and lurches back, nearly falling off save a supportive boost from Erik Black on the floor that sets the big man back on his feet, earning a laugh from the crowd. Ivan steps over all three ropes as he enters the ring, turning to the audience and tossing the towel into the sea of CC fans that have gathered at ringside. He makes a final pose for the photography enthusiasts in attendance before Desai, unable to wait any longer, jumps him from behind. The ref quickly cues the bell.]

DT: Sanket Desai, jumping the gun with a forearm to the wide back of Ivan Dalkichev!

DM: Smart move. He needs to get the early advantage.

MN: Yeah, but uh… is he even DOING anything?

DT: Desai, with a hammerblow across the large Russian-born wrestler’s back… and Dalkichev stands in place as though he felt nothing! Dalkichev now, slowly turning around to face his opponent… and Sanket Desai blasts him with a chop across the chest!

DM: …nothing, absolutely nothing! Ivan Dalkichev is just standing there with a SMIRK on his face!

DT: And now he’s telling Sanket to hit him again! Sanket Desai with ANOTHER chop… and Dalkichev finally showing some pain, but… no wait, now he’s laughing.

MN: It’s like watching a fly try to plow a hole through a brick wall.

DM: Dalkichev’s telling him to hit him again.

DT: Sanket Desai stepping back for a third chop—AND IVAN DALKICHEV JUST EXPLODES FORWARD WITH A CLOTHESLINE that simply LEVELS Sanket Desai on the mat! I’d call that decapitation by a giant club of Silly Putty.

MN: I think I can see Sanket’s face on Ivan’s bicep.

DM: Dalkichev peels Sanket Desai off the mat… and now the slaughter begins. Whip to the ropes, and Sanket runs straight into a BIG POWERSLAM that flattens him to the mat!

DT: Dalkichev follows with a pin… ONE… TWO… NO!! Desai managing to kick out, but only by the skin of his teeth. Dalkichev looks like he’s hardly broken a sweat, and Desai’s already showing signs of struggle. It doesn’t look good for this young, fresh Empire Pro talent.

MN: Hey, it’s a sink or swim business.

DT: Dalkichev bringing Sanket to his feet now… there’s the whip to the corner, and Dalkichev follows, and—OH MY GOD, BIG SPLASH from the nearly five hundred pound Ivan Dalkichev, and Sanket Desai was just BURIED under a wall of flesh!

DM: The big man’s showing an uncanny amount of speed for a man his size and sobriety. Desai’s just getting tossed around like a rag doll… and now Dalkichev strips him out of the corner, puts him INTO THE AIR with a Military Press!

DT: Look at the POWER of the Russian-born Ivan Dalkichev as he pumps Sanket Desai into the air as though he weighed nothing! Dalkichev walking a circle in the ring and getting these fans worked up… and he just TOSSES SANKET DESAI OVER THE ROPES to the outside!!

MN: Nearly cleared the barricade and fell into the front row! I’m sure if Dalkichev were really trying, he could throw a guy like Sanket into the next zip code!

DT: Sanket Desai is on the outside, lying lifeless on the ground as Ivan Dalkichev plays up to the crowd… and folks, I don’t see him getting up any time soon. Dalkichev has just been a monster through this entire match.

DM: Wait a second, Erik Black getting involved in this match, as he peels Desai off the ground, and rolls him back into the ring!

MN: The match must continue, after all.

DT: Like leading a lamb to the slaughter, if you ask me… Dalkichev turns around as Desai makes it to his feet with the help from the ropes… the Raging Russian charges, and just DESTROYS the face of Sanket Desai with a running YAKUZA KICK, and Desai flips over the ropes to the outside once again!

DM: And once again, Erik Black brings the young Desai to his feet, and rolls him back into the ring!

DT: Dalkichev could end this match at any time, but the Chronic Collizion has other plans. They’ll stretch this out as long as it takes. They’ll break every bone in Sanket Desai’s body to prove a point to the current tag team champions.

DM: Ivan seems to be enjoying every second of it.

DT: The Raging Russian maintaining control… he takes ahold of Sanket Desai and brings him back to his feet… cross-arm hold across the next, transitions into a BIG Sambo suplex!

DM: Bit of a callback to his Russian roots. A lot of people talk about this man’s size, but few ever give him credit for his Sambo-style of wrestling.

DT: Dalkichev standing tall, and Sanket Desai is simply lifeless… and now the Russian-born athlete looks to his partner on the outside, and Erik Black gives him the thumbs down signal!

MN: Looks like it’s time to put this one away.

DT: Sadly for Sanket Desai, it won’t be a merciful finish! Ivan Dalkichev pries his nearly lifeless body off the mat… hoists him up over his shoulder by the waist… DRUNKEN RUSSIAN DRIVER in the middle of the ring!

DM: Picture perfect Sitout Thunder Fire Powerbomb! Sanket Desai is in another world, and… wait, it looks like Ivan Dalkichev is neglecting the pin!

DT: You’re right, Dean! Dalkichev back on his feet, pacing the ring while observing his beaten opponent… wait a minute, now he’s positioning himself over Desai’s upper body, and… Good Lord, he just SITS ON HIS FACE!!

MN: Sweet Jesus, he’s TEABAGGING HIM TO DEATH!!

DM: No teabagging in EPW!! Dan Ryan explicitly stated it was stupid!!

MN: I was told he changed his mind after getting married….

DT: The referee making the three count… ONE… TWO… THREE!!! It’s OVER, and Dalkichev remains sitting on the face of Sanket Desai!

DM: My God, imagine the sensation of having those rife, sweaty RUSSIAN CAJONES stuffed over your mouth and face!

DT: The referee finally pries him off, and Dalkichev stands victorious after a match that was seemingly too easy.

[The CC theme by Clutch plays as Dalkichev paces the ring again, raising his arms to pose for the fans as Erik Black joins him in the ring in celebration. The referee checks on the severely beaten Sanket Desai, who weakly crawls under the ropes and begins vomiting into the ringside area. The CHRONIC COLLIZION!! proceed to make belt gestures across their waists.]

DM: It’s an ugly sight at what’s become of Sanket Desai. One really has to wonder if he made a wise career choice when he came to Empire Pro.

DT: He certainly looked to be out of his league as Ivan Dalkichev just dismantled him in the middle of the ring. The Chronic Collizion continue to build momentum going into Black Dawn, and you just have to wonder what’s going through the minds of C.P. Nero and C.E. Augustus as they watch this.

MN: If you’re thinking “fear”, Dave, then you’re wrong. Communists fear nothing. Not even democracy.

DT: We’ve got more action on the way, fans, so stay tuned!

[Fade to commercial as Dalkichev and Black make their way up the ramp.]

DBrunkGXW
01-16-08, 04:53 PM
DT: We’re back, and up next we have Cross, who has made a habit of getting on Dan Ryan’s nerves lately, taking on The Dark Phenom herself….Nakita Dahaka…

DM: Well, last week we saw Nakita face a weird giant Viking thing and this week she faces Cross – just who the hell is her agent anyway??

[The lights in the arena go out. The band countdown is heard. The entrance area begins to emanate smoke and a red strobe light as the opening "Consuming Fire" begins. Cross steps out on the ramp with his head looking up to the heavens and his arms stretched out, hands clenched in fists. When the lead singer begins to sing, large pyros go off on both sides of Cross, the lights come back on, and he ominously makes his way to the ring, never taking his eye off of what is ahead.]

[Crowd pop]

TF: This match is scheduled for one fall…introducing first, from Los Angeles, California……CROSS!!!!

DT: Cross on his way with the usual pageantry…

MN: Might as well live it up. This is his only job left.

[Cross makes it to the ring and climbs in slowly as the music fades.]

TF: And his opponent….

[The lights go completely out. Only to be replaced with red lighting
illuminating the arena, and black lights all over the stage and entrance. The beginning intro rifts and beats of "Gently" by Slipknot start up. The video screen cues up a nicely prepared video montage of Nakita Dahaka executing numerous high flying innovative moves on several known and unknown opponents that flow in sync with the intro and song. A thick cold fog rolls into the arena from the stage and down the ramp. A lone spotlight hovers directly over one single spot on the stage floor and aring of fire surrounds the trapdoor. The trapdoor opens and raises up onto the stage carrying Dahaka. Nakita cracks her knuckles as she mentally prepares to walk down the ramp toward the ring keeping full focus on the tasks at hand. The lone spotlight dangles directly over her head and follows her wherever she goes.]

TF: From Phoenix, Arizona…..”The Dark Phenom”….NAKITA DAHAKA!!!!!!

[Dahaka slides into the ring, keeping her eyes on Cross and moving slowly toward him in the center of the ring. Dahaka looks up slightly at the only slightly taller Cross and they get nose to nose, Dahaka not giving an inch.]

[The bell rings.]

DT: These two getting face to face. Dahaka has shown herself to be quite a monster in the ring since her debut, but at the same time Cross is simply one of the best to ever put on the boots.

DM: True, this should be a very interesting matchup and for sure…a nice test for the younger Nakita Dahaka.

DT: Still staring each other down here and we get a lockup…Dahaka takes control and swings landing a roundhouse to the temple of Cross and he goes down like a SHOT!! What the hell??

DM: I’m not sure what just happened there. Cross went down awfully hard and it just looked like a simple punch to me. Did Dahaka have something in her hand??

MN: I understand her skeleton is adamantium actually. Don’t ask me how I know.

DT: It looks like the referee is having the same thought process as you, Dean. He’s checking her out as we speak, but nothing there. Dahaka looking pretty confused herself.

DM: Well it’s certainly weird, that’s for sure.

DT: Dahaka looking cautiously as Cross just lies on the mat. She’s looking up at the ref and he just shrugs his shoulders, not really knowing what to make of this any more than she does!

DM: Well cover him then!

DT: Dahaka slowly moving toward Cross and yes….she finally does cover him up. Here’s the count….

ONE…

TWO….

THREE!?!?!

What the HELL?

DM: Holy crap!! She got the pinfall!! What the heck is Cross doing here?!

[Dahaka gets to her feet in a state of shock, as the referee raises her hand.]

TF: The winner of the match….NAKITA DAHAKA!!!

[BOOS!!]

DT: I don’t get this at all. Dahaka is leaving the ring, and Cross is just lying there and….

[Cross sits straight up to a loud pop. He gets to his feet and slides out of the ring and just walks, simply, up the ramp and through the curtain as the cheers turn back to boos.]

DM: Well I guess he’s making some sort of statement, but I don’t know what it is.

MN: I may be dumb, but…

DM: You MAY be dumb?

MN: Ahem! I may be dumb but it seems to me if you only have one job left you shouldn’t be throwing matches in the one place that still let’s you in the building.

DT: Well folks, I don’t know what that was all about but we’re gonna take a break and we’ll be right back…

[CUT TO: Backstage as Cross walks down the hall toward the arena exit. He turns a corner and almost runs smack into Dan Ryan and about 25 security personnel. Ryan holds up a hand to motion for them to hang tight and steps forward toward Cross.]

Ryan: I suppose you think you’re clever, don’t you? Throwing matches now, I see. Unfortunately, sir – you have a contract and you’ll fulfill that contract, or I’ll have you in court and not only will you not work for any company I own – you’ll never work in this business again…EVER.

[Cross begins to walk past without a word.]

Ryan: Gee, ya know….I wonder what would happen if I just did the same thing to your little girlfriend.

[Cross stops in his tracks and turns to face Ryan, but almost ten security guards rush in between them.]

[Ryan smiles]

Ryan: It’s like I’ve said before. I’ll find your weakness, Cross – I’ll find your pressure point…..and I’ll squeeze.

[Cross narrows his eyes, then thinks better of it and turns to leave. Ryan shouts after him as he exits the door.]

Ryan: Some advice! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, Cross! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.

[Ryan smirks as we fade back to the booth.]

DBrunkGXW
01-16-08, 04:54 PM
DT: This next contest should be... interesting.

MN: "Interesting" isn't the word, Dave. It's going to be a spectacle!

DT: Rob Franklin, coming off a victory over Sanket Desai at our LAST Aggression, will be taking on--

[The lights abruptly dim just as a series of horns beg blaring, blue and gold lights sweep across the arena before settling on the entrance way, glitter and confetti wafting majestically from the ceiling. The curtain parts and a series of Medieval-style musicians, horns in hand, faces red and sweating from their performance, stream towards the ring.]

DT: What in the world?!?

[Signalling the arrival of someone truly important...]

MN: You've gotta be kidding me!

[Someone GREAT...]

DT: I don't believe what I'm seeing.

[The fans erupt at the sight of Ice Tre. On horseback. Arms out, spread, as if to ask: "What?!?", Ice Tre was carried to the ring by a regal, stark white horse. Like the royalty on his back, this horse ALSO had a platinum, gem-encrusted grill in place on his giant horse-teeth.]

DT: Ice Tre is in the building!

[The [stolen] King of the Cage crown resting atop his head, cock-eyed of course, Ice Tre is ushered to the ring and awkwardly assisted off the horse by a massive black man in a court jester costume who'd accompanied the musicians to ringside. Nearly tripping as he stepped between the ropes, Ice Tre regained his footing and looked to his royal subjects with a lop-sided grin. From his oversized, bedazzled ringrobe, Ice Tre produced a microphone.]

ICE TRE: Yeh, yeh, yeh! Las Vegas, baby! S'APPNIN'?!?!?

[Massive crowd pop. Tre simply nods his head, crown tipping and bobbling with every motion.]

ICE TRE: The King is DEAD! Long Live the K'ANG!

[Another obnoxious pop that Tre doesn't give a chance to breathe--]

ICE TRE: Say what you wanna say! Ice Tre! Ride or DIE, s'how I DO! No stoppin', body droppin', bootz knockin', money CLOCKIN'! The world said I couldn't do it. That NO ONE could. They was WRONG, G. The office wants to IGNORIFY a brother's efforts! Bury a player! They wants to FORGET that I, Ice Tre, the K'ANG of the STREETZ, defeated ... their precious CHAMPION.

[This time? Tre soaks in the pop. He raises one fist high, confidence flowing from him like cheap champagne.]

ICE TRE: That's REAL. Ice Tre BEAT Sean Stevens and you know what? Ice Tre could do it again. Tonight. Tomorrow. Next week. Next month. Ain't No Thang. Matter of FACT? I know I gotsta have a match wit' Bobby Francis himself, Rob Franklin, in a hot second. But right about NOW?

[His grin stretches.]

ICE TRE: Right about now I wanna call TRIPLE X OUT here ... see him KNEEL before the K'ang of the Cage. I wanna call out Sean Stevens, n'front da EARTF, and hear himADMIT that Ice Tre was, is, always WILL BE the better man. The superior athelete. I want that PUNK on his knees lettin' the world know who the REAL K'ang is 'round this piece.

[A buzz flows through the arena, the atmosphere tenses. Tre looks back to the curtain, one foot resting on the bottom rope.]

ICE TRE: What you SAY, Stevens? Where You AT?!?

DT: This could be disasterous for Ice Tre! Here he is, hot off the heels of, arguably, the biggest win -- dubious or otherwise -- of his young career ... and he's calling out the man he STOLE his big win from? Forget that Sean Stevens has proven himself to be one of the most vindictive and DANGEROUS wrestlers in the industry today. Forget that these two men have been at odds with eachother for over a year. For Ice Tre ... this is just a STUPID move.

MN: You nailed it, Thomas. Suicide.

ICE TRE: We all waitin', Triple! Where You AT, BUSTER!?!?! Break Yo'Self!!!

DT: ...where is Stevens?

MN: Maybe he's playing blackjack?

DT: I'm being serious! One would think he'd want nothing more than to ANSWER Ice Tre's ... outlandishness!

[The fans boo when Tre waves his hands dismissively towards the entranceway. He smirks.]

ICE TRE: I think, Stevens. By sayin' nothin' ... you just said a WHOLE lot. With THAT being said ... Robby Franks!!! Bring your sorry ass, drag you and your worthless, stagnantified career down to this ring so that, as his FIRST ROYAL DUTY, the Man Known to the World as T R E can Do What He DO ... and drop a ROYAL BEATDOWN for DA WORLD. For the K'angdom of TRE! Unngh! YEH!

[The lights dim a little, followed by one lone spotlight being shone on TEAM FRANKLIN member Pieske, who brings with him a lone Roman Candle firework. He lights it, and after it goes off, Rob Franklin's theme music "Cocky" hits the loudspeakers, and he, along with Jacob Franklin and Pieske, walk to the ring, each wearing long golden TEAM FRANKLIN robes.]

DT: The look on Rob Franklin's face says it all. I don't think he appreciates Ice Tre dedicating an entire promo to our EPW World Champion, instead of using that time to focus on the match-up that they have ahead of them.

MN: Franklin's new around here ... if he understood WHO he was facing, he'd understand why he barely got any press. But, even if Ice Tre didn't mention him ... who is he? What makes HIM so special?!

DM: Franklin's a relative new comer to the sport, he made quite a name for himself in a multi-promotion tournament where he took Dan Ryan - yes THAT Dan Ryan to the limit before succombing to the Ego Buster's constant, consistent pressure.

DT: The bell sounds, as Ice Tre charges in with a flying clothesliiiiiinnnnneee that misses completely! I think Tre was trying to catch Rob Franklin off guard, from behind, but ended up eating a face full of turnbuckle.

MN: That guy never ceases to amaze me. I always say this, and strangely, the last couple of times I've been wrong. But, I really think Ice Tre's going to get hurt out there tonight.

DT: And, Franklin moves in with an Fujinami Arm-bar.

DM: Franklin is sitting on Ice Tre's shoulders, with Tre's arm lodged between Franklins leg, as he twists with his arm. Trust me, folks ... this move hurts TREMENDOUSLY. It's one of those maneuvers that's not often used, but usually ends with someone's shoulder popped out of it's socket.

DT: Ice Tre is in obvious pain. He's trying to fight to his feet, as Franklin lets him free.

MN: I'm interested in knowing if Tre would've given up had he stayed in that hold a little longer.

DT: Rob Franklin has Ice Tre's arm, he's twisting it, again and again. Tre's is in obvious pain, as he uses his free hand to slap Franklin in the face.

DM: To no avail, though ... that's only making Rob twist harder.

DT: Tre swings again, this time with a closed fist! Franklin relinquishes the hold, he charges in for a clothesline, Ice Tre ducks - awkwardly - as Franklin turns around and is met with THE ICE PICK! Tre just nailed Rob Franklin with his finisher!

MN: Or Triple X's finisher. Whatever you want to call it.

DM: Surprisingly, Ice Tre nailed that flush on the chin, but his momentum caused him to fall as well, giving Rob Franklin time to slide outside of the ring. Tre makes his way over to the ropes, near Franklin on the outside.

DT: What is he about to do? Tre bolts lightning fast to the other set of ropes, bounces off, and leaps through the top and middle rope!

DM: Tre actually EXECUTED a Suicide Dive?! Wow ... I'm at a loss.

MN: So am I, so am I...

DT: I think the connect surprised Tre as well as he stumbles to his feet. Tre raises Franklin to his feet with a handful of hair and slams him head first into the ring post!

MN: Believe me, I'm at as much of a loss for words as ANYBODY at the moment, but somebody told Ice Tre he could actually wrestle, and while that person could go down in history as the World Biggest Liar, he did something remarkable by giving Tre some confidence.

DT: Tre tosses Franklin back inside of the ring. Again he uses the ropes for leverage, and bounces off--

DM: -- CLOTHESLINE FROM HELL! Franklin countered with a clothesline that almost took Ice Tre's head off! And, the energetic, self-proclaimed "King of the Cage" is on his back again!

DT: Not for long as Franklin moves in and connects with a belly-to-belly suplex sending Ice Tre to the opposite side of the ring! Tre's in agony as his back must be throbbing!

MN: It could be worse, it could be broken.

DM: Wow, just wow...

MN: I'm just saying, is all...

DT: Franklin moves in again, and again he lifts Tre up by the head. He tucks Tre's cranium between his arms, and spikes down, planting him with a picture perfect DDT! Rob drops down for the cover... ONE! TWO! Ice Tre lifts up his shoulder!

MN: I think it goes without saying that I don't like Ice Tre, but I will say, he can definitely take a beating. I'm not sure if that's pure heart or stupidity, but whatever it is, it's gotten him a couple of decent victories in Empire Pro Wrestling.

DT: Rob Franklin is heading up top. Tre is down in the center of the ring ... Franklin leaps aaaaaaaaannnnnnnnnddddddd TRE SLIDES OUT OF THE WAY! Ice Tre has a second life!

DM: If Franklin would've connected with that flying elbow, that more than likely would've spelled the end of the match for the man known as the K'ang of the Streetz! Now, all that attempt means is a possible dislocated elbow.

MN: And, more confidence for a wrestler with zero skill, who these people have fooled into believing he has a future in this business!

DT: Both competitors are on their feet, Ice Tre moves in, Swinging Neckbreaker! Tre with the cover! ONE! TWO! KICKOUT! Ice Tre's back up again, he hooks Rob Franklin from behind, RELEASE GERMAN SUPLEX!

DM: I'm not even sure he MEANT to release the suplex! I'm not so sure he knew how to successfully execute that move, BUT, in the grand scheme of things, it made for a better result for him, as Franklin landed on his neck instead of his back, and he appears to be OUT!

MN: He doesn't appear to be out, he IS out!

DM: While nothing can compare to the feat Ice Tre accomplished last week beating the World Heavyweight Champion, it's pretty surprising how much that has done for his ego this week. He's actually put together a string of successful wrestling maneuvers, and looks like he could possibly win this thing.

MN: On purpose, this time?

DT: Rob Franklin's on the mat, slowly working his way to his feet ... Ice Tre backpedals to the turnbuckle, I think he's about to set him up for another Ice Pick ... Tre's measuring him, Franklin's up, Tre charges in and CONNECTS! THIS IS THE SECOND ICE PICK OF THE EVENING! Ice Tre drops down for the pin...

ONE...

... TWO!

........ THR-- FRANKLIN GOT HIS SHOULDER UP! ROB FRANKLIN KICKED OUT!

MN: Thank God...

DM: I honestly don't know HOW he did it... Just like the first time, Ice Tre nailed him pretty good.

MN: I know how he did it... it's because he knows that if he were to lose to Ice Tre, it'd be CAREER SUICIDE! He may as well pack his bags and head for the indies, because he just does not belong here!

DM: So are you saying our EPW World Champion should do the same?

MN: I'm saying, stop putting words in my mouth! EVERYBODY knows that there is no way in hell Ice Tre can beat an accomplished veteran like Tripl-- What in the HELL is he doing?!?

DT: Ladies and Gentlemen, this could be dangerous! Ice Tre is climbing to the top ropes, folks! He's measuring Franklin ... I don't know what he's going to try to do here but--

[CUE UP: "Love Me or Hate Me," Lil Wayne.]

MN: I knew it! I knew it! Ice Tre is dead!

[The curtain parts as EPW World Heavyweight Champion, Sean "Triple X" Stevens walks through in a hurry, baseball bat in hand, eyes trained on the man who STOLE his King of the Cage crown.]

DM: Here comes the champion alright, one would think to get a little retribution for last week's surprise loss at the hands of the man in the ring.

DT: The sudden blare of music caught Ice Tre off guard, causing him to stumble off of the top rope, but look! TRE FELL ON TOP OF ROB FRANKLIN! HE CONNECTED! The referee drops down for the cover ... ONE! TWO! THHHHHRRRREEEEEEE! Ice Tre wins! Ice Tre wins!! ICE TRE--

MN: -- IS GONE! Ice Tre saw the champ coming down to ringside with that baseball bat, and rightfully took off through the crowd! Good move!


DM: Not before grabbing the King of the Cage crown from the timekeeper though! Triple X enters the ring pointing the bat in Ice Tre's direction, as the self proclaimed King of the Cage continues to make his way through the crowd! Tre escaped! He did it!


[Leaning over the top rope, baseball bat in his left -- good -- hand, Triple X senses movement behind him, noticing Rob Franklin attempting to exit the ring out of the corner of his eye. In a swift display of movement, the REAL King of the Cage turns and charges Franklin nailing him directly in the skull with the baseball bat, laying him out ... cold.]

MN: The champion is PISSED!

DT: C'mon now, this isn't right! Triple X is leaning over Franklin's beaten body nailing him with clubbing blows with his one good hand! And, Franklin's bleeding! Somebody stop this! Somebody get security out here!!

DM: And, is you listen in closely ... as he's hitting him, he's referring to him as 'TRE'. I think the champion thinks Franklin is Ice Tre!

MN: Or maybe he's trying to GET Ice Tre's attention. Maybe he's trying to get Ice Tre to come out and defend Franklin since this was never Franklin's fight to begin with. Coward that we all knew he was, Ice Tre's nowhere near the scene.

[Officials enter the ring, in an attempt to break the -- now -- graphic display of violence up, as the blood really begins oozing out of Franklin's face. One official, in particular -- the fair skinned, Latino, with jet black hair, Emilio Gomez -- gets Sean's attention, as Sean finally gives in, and breaks free of Franklin.

Trip signals for a microphone.]

TRIPLE X: Hey! YOU!

[The official stops in his tracks, turning to face the Champion.]

TRIPLE X: Yeah, you ... Amigo. Come a little closer.

[The referee pointed at himself as he came in even closer.]

TRIPLE X: Weren't you the idiot that gave Ice Tre my crown last week? Yeah, it WAS you, wasn't it?

[The camera zoomed in on the referee's swollen left eye as a result of a clubbing blow from the champion last week.]

TRIPLE X: What's your name?

[Stevens positioned the microphone in front of Gomez' face.]

REFEREE: Gomez, sir. Emilio Gomez!

TRIPLE X: ... and, how does it FEEL to be stupid, Gomez Emilio?!

GOMEZ: I ... I sorry for misunder--

[With his bad hand -- his heavily cast right hand -- Triple X swung a punch that connected so hard that spit flew out of the referee's mouth, knocking him unconcious! Shaking his hand due to the pain, Trip stood over the referee's fallen body, microphone in hand.]

TRIPLE X: You listen, and you listen good, you little Puta[sp?] ... I'm going to GET my crown back this week, and if I don't ... I'm going to BEAT THE LIVING HELL OUT OF YOU until I do!

[Stevens tosses the microphone down to an extra loud chorus of boos as he walks up the aisle and to the back. In the ring, medical personnel attend to Rob Franklin who’s now alert and angry. Franklin shoves a medic off of him and rolls out of the ring, leaving a bloody trail behind him and stalks up the ramp.]

DT: Franklin is pissed and with good reason – he just had his debut marred by the World Champion and got thrust into the middle of something he has absolutely nothing to do with.

MN: Wrong place at the wrong time.

DT: We’ll be right back.

DBrunkGXW
01-16-08, 04:55 PM
[Fade back in to the broadcast booth.]

DT: Up next on Aggression, we’ve got a meeting of two men who seem to be on divergent paths, but with very similar missions. “The Phenom” Shawn Hart had a near-unbreakable grasp on the TV title for almost a year until James Irish unseated him at Russian Roulette, and now one of the legends of wrestling is looking to reclaim his spot at the top. Troy Douglas, on the other hand, is one of the founding fathers of EPW, but after nearly four years, he’s yet to taste Empire gold. However, he’s got the Sergeant and the Intercontinental Title locked in his sights as tonight he looks to cement his standing as an EPW contender.

MN: YAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWNNNNN. Oh, uh … done yet?

DT: Yes, Mike.

MN: Has anyone ever tried to figure out why you’re so boring, Davey? I mean, I need like six Red Bulls to get through your annoying little soliloquy before each match.

DM: Mikey, the answer to that question is like the answer to how many licks it takes to get to the center of a Tootsie Roll Pop. The world may never know why Thomas is as incredibly dull as he is.

DT: Let’s just go to the ring.

[CUTTO: Tony Fatora, midring.]

TF: The following contest is scheduled for ONE FALL! Introducing first…

[CUEUP: “Watching the Wheels” John Lennon. The crowd boos as the Phenom casually walks down the ramp and slides into the ring, shadowboxing in the corner while waiting.]

TF: …Hailing from Orlando, Florida and weighing in tonight at 225 pounds, he is “THE PHENOM” … SHAAAAAWWWN HAAAAAAAARRRRTTT!!!!

DT: The Phenom, nonchalant as always heading into the ring, the man never seems to give a damn before the bell, but when the red light goes on, he’s always ready to perform.

MN: Actually, I think being in the presence of a moron like you and like these fans out here just bores him.

TF: And his opponent…

[CUEUP: “Right Now” Van Halen. The first fifteen seconds play on the piano before a cannon blast and some pyro as the first chorus kicks in and Troy Douglas steps out onto the ramp and holds both arms high in the air saluting the crowd before jogging to the ring.]

TF: …Hailing from Greensboro, North Carolina and weighing in at 262 pounds… TROOOOOYYY DOOOOOUUGGLAAASSSS!!!

[SFX: Bell Rings]

DT: Douglas and Hart are ready, Bryan Weatherby’s our official in charge, away we go on Aggression!

MN: God, you’re a dork.

DT: These two wily veterans circle, and now they lock up dead in the center of the ring, and it’s the size and strength of Troy Douglas that prevails as he bulls the Phenom straight into the corner!

DM: Troy Douglas has spent a great deal of his career facing larger men, but when we see him in here against a smaller opponent, you can see the size, strength and leverage advantages he possesses.

MN: Which would be helpful for Megatron if he wanted to beat a guy by leaning on him for twenty minutes before he collapses.

DT: Referee calls for the break in the corner, but Douglas locks right back up with Hart and this time he uses a violent judo-style hip throw to bring Shawn Hart down to the mat and straight into a tight side headlock.

MN: Megatron … BORINATE!

DM: I think you’re confusing some old gags there, Mikey.

DT: Douglas wrenching back on that headlock, but Hart uses his legs to bridge out of the hold and now both men are back to their feet. Hart going for the big right hand … blocked by Douglas, and he tees off on Hart with lefts and rights! Now a blistering chop! And another! One more has Hart backed up onto the ropes … irish whip by Douglas … and he connects with a HYOOOGE kneelift!

DM: I think that brutal kneelift just let us see what the Phenom had for lunch earlier today.

MN: I think I had the same thing.

DT: Troy taking advantage of his doubled over opponent … he scoops him up … and sends him right back down with a quick, compact powerslam! The cover..


ONE…

And a kickout! Not nearly enough to put away the former TV champ, but Douglas is rolling early tonight.

MN: Feh. It’s only a matter of time until Megatron chokes. He’s done it everywhere he’s gone, just a matter of time until he does it here tonight.

DT: Douglas is waiting for Hart to get back to his feet. He does, and Douglas is right back on the attack! Douglas with a boot right to the midsection, and now he just SHOVES Shawn Hart into the far corner! Irish whip … and Hart goes corner-to-corner with a violent collision! Douglas takes off … big clothesline in the corner and Hart’s head just snapped WAY back!

DM: Shawn Hart looks a little bit off his game early on tonight, maybe a product of the lack of focus we’ve seen in him since he lost his belt at Russian Roulette.

MN: Nah. He’s just waiting until the idiot he’s in the ring against screws up, then the Phenom takes control.

DT: Douglas with a side headlock in the corner. He charges out … goes for the bulldog … Hart slipped out and shoved Douglas away, and the EPW veteran hits the deck! Douglas gets up … DROPKICK by Hart! Picture-perfect execution by the Phenom on that dropkick and the ball is finally in his court!

DM: I really hate to admit this, Neels, but it looks you might actually be…

MN: Say it…

DM: Don’t wanna…

MN: Say it…

DM: No.

MN: Say it…

DM: FINE! You were RIGHT, damnit! For once in your little worm existence of a life, you were right!

MN: Damn straight! I WIN!!!!!

DT/DM: God I hate you.

DT: Shawn Hart is now going to work on Douglas now that he’s finally gained the advantage. He staggers Douglas with a couple of elbows and forearms … now he hooks the knee … hoists Troy up … and drops the knee straight on the mat!

MN: Dude. Kneebusta.

DM: It’s been HOW long since you’ve used that line?

DT: Shawn Hart’s seamlessly moving into a part of the game he’s perfected over the years, weakening his opponent with long, precise attacks and taking out one part of the body. He’s seemed to focus in on that oft-injured right knee of Troy Douglas, and as Douglas rises, he continues the assault with a pinpoint dropkick right to that very knee!

DM: Douglas has had injury after injury on that knee during his football and wrestling careers, and while Hart may act as flamboyant and loopy as anyone out there, he’s also among the smartest wrestlers on the planet and he does his scouting well enough to know what parts of Douglas’ game he can exploit.

DT: Hart pulls Douglas to his feet … and he ducks right behind him and takes out the knee again with a hard chop block! Douglas is down in pain, and now Hart is measuring him…

MN: I’m not Megatron’s biggest fan, but this doesn’t look good as far as him walking out of this match on two good legs.

DT: Hart off the ropes … high into the air … oh my! He dropped the point of his knee right onto the back of Troy’s right knee, and Douglas is absolutely writhing in pain!

MN: Okay, I withdraw my protest. Megatron wriggling like a newborn is one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen!

DM: Incisive comments, Mike, really.

MN: That’s my job.

DT: Hart wasting no time in continuing to punish Troy Douglas’ right knee. He grabs both legs, crosses them, steps through, and he’s hooked in an Indian Deathlock! Hart’s got Douglas’s legs grapevined, and now he drops to the mat and places even more pressure on that knee. He’s trying to re-tear those surgically repaired ligaments!

DM: Not just that, Thomas, but Hart knows that with one bad leg, Troy Douglas is going to be far less likely to use his trademark high impact offense. He’s not only injuring Douglas, but he may be keeping himself out of harm’s way in the later goings.

MN: What later goings? Five bucks Troy taps out in the next thirty seconds.

DM: Deal.

DT: Douglas is fighting this hold, but even that is putting more torque and pressure on that right knee. Douglas reaches for the ropes … but Hart drops down again and wrenches back on that knee even more! Troy Douglas is screaming out in pain, and Shawn Hart has taken complete control of this match.

MN: Go Shawn! Defeat Megatron! SUPPRESS THE ROBOT REVOLUTION!!!! STOP THEM FROM STEALING OUR PRECIOUS METALS AND KILLING OUR C ARIBOU!!!!!







Did I just say that out loud?

DM: Yeah, Mike, you did.

MN: Oh. Uh ... I had a … strange dream last night. Nevermind.

DT: That was very, very disturbing, Neely.

DM: I’ll second that.

DT: Douglas is struggling to make it towards the ropes, and Bryan Weatherby’s asking Troy if he wants to submit!

MN: He will.

DM: He won’t.

DT: HE DOESN’T! Douglas desperately reaches out and grabs the bottom rope, and Shawn Hart’s got to break the hold, but after inflicting a significant amount of damage.

DM: Pay up, Neels. Five bucks.

MN: Oh … uhhhhh … we weren’t serious about that, were we? Just a little friendly wager, right? Uhhh…

[CUT TO: Dean looking threateningly at Neely. He looks dead serious.]

MN: Awwww, man! I was gonna buy beer tonight! Thomas, you got ten bucks?

DT: But the bet was five.

MN: I know, I need five bucks for beer, moron.

DT: I don’t get paid enough for this.

DM: I do.

DT: Shawn Hart is continuing to stalk Troy Douglas here, looking to expose that weakened knee. Hart whips Douglas off the ropes … here he comes on the rebound … MASSIVE BACK BODY DROP! Now Hart pulls Douglas to his feet … hooks the head and leg … FISHERMAN’S SUPLEX! He bridges for the pin…

ONE…

TWO…

Douglas barely fights out! I thought Hart might’ve had Douglas there.

MN: Well, you were wrong then, weren’t you?

DM: Quite, Eye-gor. Besides, I thought you wanted Hart to win.

MN: I do! I just want Burgerboy to be wrong more.

DT: Hart still on the attack, trying to put Douglas away. He whips Douglas into the corner … now takes charge … FLYING KNEE … nobody home! Douglas got out of the way in the nick of time and Hart collided with the turnbuckles! Hart turns around … straight into a right hand from Douglas! And another! Now Douglas with the irish whip … and a swinging neckbreaker! The pin…

ONE…

TWO…

Not enough to put Hart away as he kicks out at two! However, Troy Douglas has shown spark for the first time in a while in this contest.

DM: Great job of taking advantage of the missed move in the corner, but you can still see that Troy is hobbling. That knee might not hold up much longer.

DT: Douglas is trying to take advantage of a momentarily stunned Shawn Hart. He hooks Hart … sets up for the big vertical suplex … OH NO! The knee gave out and Hart counters into a cross-body for the pin! Shoulders on the mat…

ONE…

TWO…

AND A HALF! Troy Douglas just got the shoulder up before Bryan Weatherby could count three.

MN: See, just like I told you. Megatron always buckles under pressure.

DM: It was his knee.

MN: His knee is part of him! I may not be Mr. Smartypants-Know-It-All Dean Matthews, but I know that a knee is part of the human body!

DM: Oh yeah? Then where is it?

MN: It’s sfdgmsfrggfdgjlkjggg.

DM: What was that?

MN: It’s … ah screw it, I failed ninth grade human anatomy. I don’t even remember that stupid song about bones from when I was a kid.

DM: The shin bone’s connected to the…

MN: QUIET! STOP TORTURING ME!!!!

DT: Ooooookay. Back in the ring where the REAL action is, Shawn Hart is continuing to punish Troy Douglas, who might as well be on one leg right now. Hart whips Douglas off the ropes … and hits him on the rebound with a sharp DDT! Hart picks up Douglas … inverted atomic drop!

MN: Shawn Hart just became my hero!

DM: Why?

MN: That move just saved the world from any possible Troy Douglas spawn.

DT: Douglas staggering … Hart measures him up … BIONIC ELBOW!!! Hart blasts Douglas with his trademark running elbow, and that sends Troy spilling through the ropes and to the floor!

DM: That’s a bad break for the Phenom, because if Troy had just hit the mat, this thing would likely be over.

DT: Douglas is staggering on the outside trying to regain his bearings, and the Phenom is signaling to the crowd that he wants to fly!

MN: Time to hit the off switch for Megatron.

DT: Hart hits the ropes … takes to the air … TOPE CON HILOOOOOOO….

DM: Holy [FCC]!

MN: Hey, Deano…

DM: Yeah?

MN: FAMILY SHOW! HA!

DT: Troy Douglas somehow caught Shawn Hart in midair … FALLAWAY SLAM!!! Shawn Hart was tossed straight into the guardrail on the outside, and Troy Douglas has collapsed to the ground after the stress that put on his knee.

DM: This thing might come down to which one can get back in the ring first before the count reaches ten.

BW/FANS: ONE!!!!

TWO!!!!

THREE!!!!

FOUR!!!!

FIVE!!!!

SIX!!!

SEVEN!!!

DT: Douglas is up!

BW: EIGHT!!!!

DT: Douglas grabs Hart and rolls him into the ring! The count is at nine … but Douglas makes it back in just in time! He covers...

ONE…

TWO…

THRNOOO!!!! Very, very close, but Troy Douglas could not put Shawn Hart away, and that might’ve been all the energy Troy had left.

MN: Megatron’s hankering for some energon right about now.

DM: You are such a nerd.

DT: Douglas pulls himself up with the ropes, but Hart is too quick and cuts him off. Hart pulls Douglas away … and now he might’ve just knocked Douglas out with a devastating double-knee facebreaker! What a manuever from the Phenom, and Troy Douglas’ eyes look glazed over right now.

DM: Shawn Hart’s come close several times, but this might actually be the opportunity that lets him put a victory away.

DT: Hart’s crowing to the crowd that this one is in the books … he grabs that right leg, steps through … FIGURE FOUR!!! He’s got the figure four locked in … but he’s too close to the ropes! Douglas sprung back to consciousness just in time to realize where he was and grab the ropes before the Phenom ended this match!

MN: You are the single most melodramatic person in the history of the entire universe.

DM: Hyperbole much, Mikey?

DT: Hart breaks and pulls Douglas towards the center of the ring … going for the figure four again … NOT THIS TIME! Douglas hooked Hart’s head and rolled through with an inside cradle!

ONE…

TWO…

NO!!!! Shawn Hart has dominated this match, but Troy Douglas keeps finding little ways to keep fighting back!

DM: But on one good leg, I don’t know how much he can muster up in terms of offense.

DT: Hart’s getting increasingly frustrated with Douglas’ refusal to go quietly. He’s first up, and he catches Troy with a quick knife-edged chop! Troy counters back! Left and right hands are flying! Douglas might have a second wind!

MN: Maaaaaybe not, Daaaavey.

DT: Hart rakes the eyes and cuts Troy off. Now he whips Douglas off the ropes … here comes Troy … he ducks under the bionic elbow! Troy off the ropes again … he catches Hart with a flying forearm! Now Troy’s the one with the momentum. Irish whip … OH MY!!!! Ring-rattling spinebuster by Douglas!

DM: And we all know what this can lead to.

DT: Douglas has the Phenom in the center of the ring … he’s setting up for the Scorpion Deathlock! He grabs the legs … Hart shifts his weight! He rolls through for a pin…

ONE…

TWO…

THRRRRNOOOOO!!!! Hart pulled out an incredible pinning manuever and bridged back all his weight, but Troy was just barely able to kick out!

DM: Shawn Hart’s still got that athleticism that’s made him a worldwide icon over a ten year career.

DT: Douglas up … so is the Phenom … Troy turns around … STRAIGHT INTO A SUPERKICK!!! Hart nailed him flush across the jaw and this one has to be over! He hooks the leg…

ONE…

TWO…

THREEE!!! NO! NO! Troy Douglas got his foot on the bottom rope and he is still alive in this contest!

MN: I call bull-

DM/DT: FAMILY SHOW!

MN: Snorkles! Bullsnorkles!

DM: That’s not even a good try, Neels. Tool.

DT: Hart can not believe that the superkick didn’t put Douglas away!

MN: I’m not one to guess, but I think the Phenom might have a couple more tricks up his sleeve.

DT: Hart pulls Douglas to his feet … he sets Troy up … HART ATTACK …

DM: DENIED~!

DT: Troy shoves Hart off at the last moment! Hart turns around … MASSIVE LARIAT BY DOUGLAS!!!

MN: El Larrrrriiaaaattoooo!

DT: Might that be what finally turns the tide for Troy Douglas!

[We get a shot of the booth, where inexplicably Mike Neely is doing the robot.]

MN: Domo origato, El laria-to.

[Dean and Dave just stare, then shake it off and return to the match.]

DT: Douglas whips Hart into the corner … takes off … BIG SPLASH IN THE CORNER! Troy paying homage to his boyhood hero Hornet with that one!

MN: Do we have to hear about this loser’s childhood again?

DT: Hart stumbles out of the corner … Douglas catches him in a standing headscissors … lifts him high … POWERBOMB!! Slammed him down to the mat just before the knee gave out! He holds on for the pin…

ONE…

TWO…

HE GOT HIM!!! NO! NO HE DIDN’T! Shawn Hart just barely kicked out before the count of three! Unbelievable!

MN: Toldja he was the coolest.

DM: Quiet you.

DT: Douglas finally asserting control. He hooks Hart for a suplex … could be the Broken Dream … no! Hart slips out in midair! Hart ducks a clothesline … Douglas spins around … Hart Attack … NOOO!! Douglas fends it off again! Hart to his feet … Douglas with a boot to the gut … and the Broken Dream! Douglas plants him with the facebuster suplex, and he’s wasting no time getting him to the corner!

DM: I think this might be bad for everyone’s favorite Phenom, Mikey.

DT: Douglas has Hart up top … Troy to the second rope … double underhook … END OF THE ROAD!!! Troy Douglas takes Shawn Hart to the end of the road with that vicious underhook piledriver from the second rope! Is it enough…

ONE…

TWO…

THREEEEEE!!!! Troy Douglas picks up a hard-earned victory over the former TV champion, and his collision course with Sarge and the IC title picks up even more steam!

[CUEUP: “Right Now” as Bryan Weatherby raises Troy’s arm. Troy salutes the crowd for a moment, then calls for a microphone and the music fades.]

TD: Sarge, what you saw right there is a preview of what you’ll get when we finally get in that ring for the Intercontinental Championship.

Last week, you told me to name the time and the place. Son, when you did that, you opened up Pandora’s Box, and you all but signed that newly won title of yours away. I’ve been working four years to taste EPW gold, and I wouldn’t have been so quick to give such a desperate man carte blanche for the first shot at your title.

But, as I’ve said time and time again over my career, Sarge, I’m not going to be the man to shoot the gift horse in the mouth.

You want me to name the time and the place? Fine with me, Sarge.

At Black Dawn, me and you are going to settle this. For your sake, I hope you know what you’ve gotten in to.

I’ll see you at the end of the road.

[CUEUP: “Right Now”. Troy tosses the microphone back to Tony Fatora, gingerly slides out of the ring and walks to the back, taking in the crowd.]

DBrunkGXW
01-16-08, 04:56 PM
[The camera pans across the arena, lending a glimpse of some of the more rabid fans in attendance before cutting to Dave Thomas and company at ringside.]

DT: Alright fans! We're back for more action, and-

MN: HOT LESBIAN ACTION?

DM: If only.

DT: Ha! Where's Eric Bischoff when you need him? Right? Rrright?!

[Neely and Mathews gaze at each other in confusion.]

DT: Just a little RAW humor for you. Ya know what I mean? RAW humor?!

MN: You should really stick to playing the straight man, bro.

[Thomas lowers his head in shame.]

DT: At any rate, I think my ESTEEMED colleague Mr. Neely is actually referring to an incident that took place earlier today between Lollipop and Rozy that led to both women being ejected from the building.

DM: I'll tell you what... The First and the Anglo Luchador are the cream of the crop here in Empire Pro, but as you're about to see... it's the LADIES that really know how to go to the distance!

MN: Whoa Nellie.

DT: Let's take a look...

[CUT TO: The footage in question. Lollipop is looking over the catering table while the returning Shawn Jessica Hart, PhD. looks on.]

SJH: ....So like, she swore it was completely normal, but I've NEVER smelled a smell like that before and it TOTALLY killed my raging Hart Throb!

LOLLIPOP: Umm, that's nice, but I really just came here to grab a plate for-

SJH: I mean, it was like this funky conglomeration of cole slaw, toothpaste, and baby wipes!

LOLLIPOP: I really don't think I-

SJH: Transmission fluid, corn syrup, and B.O.!

LOLLIPOP: Yeah, well I'm really sorry to-

SJH: Balsamic vinaigrette, rhubarb, and ASS!

[Lollipop gags slightly.]

LOLLIPOP: Please.... Stop talking to me.

[Suddenly, someone shoots in from off camera, and SHOVES Lollipop into a bowl of clam chowder!]

SJH: Ohmygod! Ohmygod! Ohmygod!

[The assailant in question is none other than ROZY, and as Hart makes a screaming retreat down the hall, she proceeds to smear Lollipop's face into various vats of foodstuff.]

ROZY: You look... so sweet when you squirm and suffer for each breath!

[Acting off of some kind of survival instinct, Lollipop does her best to shake her head free and BITES Rozy on the hand!]

ROZY: AHH! F***ing B**ch!!

[Rozy rushes in and begins TEARING at Lolli's hair, but Lollipop is quick to counter with a sick eye gouge!]

LOLLIPOP: GAAAHH!!

[Whilst clawing violently at each other's faces, the two women go tumbling over the top of the desert table in a heap! Seconds later, the not-so-crack security team bursts onto the scene and does their best to separate the two. CUT TO: Thomas, Mathews, and Neely at the announce position.]

MN: Wow.

DT: That was from earlier today fans, and once again, both women have been sent home, but I really think this goes to show just how much is at stake in our next bout.

DM: It's a battle for position, Dave, and while it looks like we won't be seeing any girl on girl, what we will see is a match that should speak volumes about where this new and improved EPW will be heading in the new year.

DT: That's right, Dean-o! ..And in the weeks leading up to tonight's show, the First went on record saying that he's really out to HURT the Anglo Luchador in this match-up.

MN: The First has always been kind of a gloomy fellow, dont'chu think?

DM: Call him what you will, the fact of the matter here is that BOTH these of guys are highly motivated individuals; guys that could very well shape the world title scene in 2008.

DT: They call you the Show Stealer, Mr. Mathews, but I don't think you mind me saying that this is the kind of match-up that has the potential to steal any show it's booked on.

MN: Oversell much?

TF: The following match is scheduled for ONE FALL!

[At the entryway, the First emerges with an expression most morose covering his face. Some of the fans react positively to his appearance, some not as much, but the First disregards both contingents as he makes his way toward the ring with a slow, somber march.]

TF: Introducing first, making his way to the ring and weighing in at 210 lbs, he is.... Thhhhhhhheeeee FIRRRRRRSSSSSTTT!

DT: The First is all business here, guys, and it's a good thing too. JA really is one of the under-appreciated stars of our industry; not just here in Empire Pro, but on the A1 circuit and all over the world. He's the kind of guy that, on any given night, can take out anyone in the sport.

DM: No question about it, Dave, but I'll tell ya what... The First is an athlete. He may not look it-

MN: Dude's creepy.

DM: ...and he is a bit unorthodox, but he will put his body... his very physical well-being, on the line each and every time out to give himself a chance to escape with a win. Something a lot of guys aren't willing to do.

[The music of the First fades and 'Eat the Rich' hits the PA, signaling the arrival of one Jerichoholic Anonymous.]

DT: And here's the guy he's gonna have to go through to pick up the 1-2-3...

TF: And his opponent...from Philly, P-A... weighing in at 219 lbs.... JERICHOLIC AA-NONYMOOOOOOOOOOOUUUSSSS!!!

DM: The Anglo Luchador looks as focused as I've ever seen him. We expected the First to bypass the fans, but when a guy with the charisma of JA has this kind of tunnel-vision... you can see just how much is at stake in this kind of match-up.

DT: Well... and we saw it with the women earlier today. The level of tension that as built up heading into this thing... you can cut it with a knife. They feel it, Lollipop and Rozy got caught up in it, even the fans can sense it. I mean, there aren't any titles on the line here, but its matches like these that ultimately end up defining where a competitor is headed in the promotion.

[JA begins to approach ringside, where he and the First engage in a staredown. Ever the epitome of punctuality, the referee steps in and advises the Anglo Luchador to expedite his entrance, but JA takes no notice. In the ring, the First begins to pace.]

DM: These guys are ready to GO, what'chu think Mr. Neely?

MN: Uhh... let the bodies hit the floor?

[Suddenly, the First hits the ropes on the far side, PROPELS himself forward, and LAUNCHES himself over the top rope to the outside!]

DM: There he goes!

DT: And the bodies have indeed hit the floor as THE FIRST comes FLYING to the outside with the PLANCHA!

DM: Already throwing caution to the wind.

[As the two go tumbling, the referee slips his upper body between the second and third ropes to shout at both men.]

DT: This match has yet to see the opening bell, but THE FIRST has wasted no time in drawing FIRST blood!

MN: Appropriate, no?

DT: JA is out on the mat, and let me tell you... there was such impact on that maneuver that even the First is slow to find his feet!

DM: That's why they call it high risk, Davey-boy.

DT: The First now... has his hands on the neck and shoulder of JA to prop him back to a standing position..

[Inside the ring, the official initiates a ten count.]

MN: Heh, peep the ref. He still thinks he's running the show here.

[ONE!!!]

DT: Hard right hand from the First!

[TWO!!!]

DM: I dunno if we're even gonna get an official match here, but either way... JA is in big trouble.

[THREE!!!]

DT: Another hard right from the First! And a left! Right! Left! The Anglo Luchador is reeling here!

[FOUR!!!]

DM: They've got to get in the ring or it's not gonna matter!

DT: The First grasps JA by the forearm now and WHHHHHHIPS... NO! JA with the reversal, sending the First into the steel guard rail!

[FIVE!!!]

DM: Veteran move there. Ya gotta know where you are in a match at all times.

DT: As the official strikes five, JA has the First back on his feet now and is guiding him to the apron...

[SIX!!!]

DT: Jerichoholic Anonymous and The First, getting things going here in what should be a vanguard year in the history of Empire Pro Wrestling.

[With the official calling out the number seven, JA gets a good grip on the first and rolls him into the the ring.]

MN: Looks like we're gonna start this thing off proper.

[As the Anglo Luchador rolls in after the first, official turns toward the timekeeper and signals for the bell.]

DT: And we're underway here, as... WHOA! The First is quickly on the attack now, as he catches JA rolling in under the ropes!

MN: Where was the zebra on that?! He started the match before JA was even all the way in the ring!

DT: The First.. playing possum perhaps as he sets in with a series of stomps on the grounded Jerichoholic Anonymous.

DM: He looks to be focusing those big boots on the small of JA's back... and again, JA is in a bad way.

DT: The First is looking very aggressive here, starting with that suicide dive and now kicking the life out of a downed Anglo Luchador! The First... brings JA to his feet and sends him off with an Irish Whip! JA - coming back the other way now and the First DROPS HIM with a flying leg lariat!

DM: That dropkick-like maneuver is just one of many aerial weapons the First has at his disposal.

DT: And with JA down once again, the First takes off to the far-side ropes. Using the momentum to slingshot himself off of them now, he takes to the air and CONNECTS with a SENTON SPLASH!

DM: JA is grasping at his mid-section. I think he might be hurt...

MN: Pssshhh... I think he just has indigestion!

DT: And the First isn't wasting any time here as he hits the canvas and hooks a leg for the 1.....




2.............................




NO - JA gets the shoulder up in the nick of time!

DM: It’s early in the match, but I like that. He said he wants to hurt JA, and I'm sure its true... but he's gonna win this thing in the process!

DT: The First has the Anglo Luchador on his feet once more and again he utilizes the Irish Whip, this time sending him straight into the turnbuckle! The First... taking a step back now, catching a full head of steam, and LEAPING onto the back of JA with a modified splash!

DM: It may not look like it, but its moves like that, catching a guy from behind, that'll pay dividends later in the match.

DT: JA stumbling back now...right into the First's waiting arms and right into the BACK SUPLEX! Nice display of wrestling there by the First.

MN: Probably the FIRST real wrestling I've ever seen him do.

DM: The fans don't like it, but he's looking pretty strong so far.

DT: More boots to the back and side of JA by the First, who looks to be eyeing that top turnbuckle. I think this thing is about to go aerial, Dean Mathews.

DM: Ya gotta go with what brung ya.

DT: The First ascends the turnbuckle and... what's this now... he stops at the second rope and is EYEING his opponent - like a vulture stalks its prey. The First, continuing to climb the turnbuckle, and perching himself on that top rope.

MN: Look out below!

DT: JA is struggling to find his feet... The First is on that top turnbuckle, and... THERE HE GOES!!!

[CRASH!!!!]

DT: Guillotine Leg Drop - executed to perfection! I could see the ring shake as he connected with the limp body of the former A1E Heavyweight Champion!

DM: Is he going for the cover here.. or?

DT: No such luck for JA as the First sets in with another series of stomps to the back! Now he looks for the cover, as the referee slides in for a 1.....




2.................




No such luck as JA manages to hook the bottom rope with his leg!

DM: More savvy from the Anglo Luchador. He's still a young guy, but he knows all the tricks of the trade.

DT: The First looks to be just a smidge frustrated now after two failed pinfall attempts. The First... edges in toward the still-wavering JA and is... oh my. The First has hi hands around the head and neck of JA and is SMEARING his face into the canvas!

MN: A nice cheese-grating motion.

DT: The referee is stepping in now and issuing a few words of warning to the First, but he pays it no mind... and responds instead by SLAMMING JA's head down like a hammer!

DM: He really wasn't kidding about hurting this guy.

DT: And it looks like the official has had enough as he physically imposes himself upon - whooooooa, whoooooa, whooooooa...

[The First grabs the referee by the shirt and shoves him away and into the corner!]

DM: Caaareful! This is the kind of thing that could bring the match to an early end.

DT: The official was stepping in; he obviously didn't like the way the First was grinding JA's skin against the canvas, and the First responded by pushing him away.

MN: I mean, technically speaking, that's a legal move.

DT: Which is exactly the point the First is probably trying to make here as he and the official engage in some debate. Meanwhile, the Anglo Luchador is trying to scoot away and find his feet, but he just can't seem to muster much movement.

DM: What I want to know is why the First is screwing around with the referee. He's obviously caught JA off guard here... he's got to take advantage.

DT: Well, I think he's aware of that fact, because it looks like he's turned his attention back to JA. The First... is grasping at JA once again and-

DM: Look out!

DT: SMALL PACKAGE BY THE ANGLO LUCHADOR!




1.......................




2.......................




NOOOOOOO!!!!

DM: The First is NOT happy!

DT: The First kicks out with AUTHORITY and is quick to connect with an ELBOW DROP to the lower back!

DM: He really looks to be focusing on either the back or the kidneys of JA.

DT: No doubt an effort to limit his ability, Dean, and JA is now being brought back to his feet by the First. JA - being whipped and sent off to the - No... reversal by JA! There goes the First! Back the other way now and JA attempts... and misses with the lariat! The First off a second set of ropes and ANOTHER missed clothesline by JA! The First - off the ropes one more time aaaand...

[THUD!!!]

DT: Back body drop by the Anglo Luchador!!! Nice recovery here by JA after a less than stellar start to the match! JA with the cover now and a 1....




2...............




The First gets the shoulder up!

DM: Gonna have to do more than that to shut down this kind of momentum.

DT: JA gets the First on his feet - looking for the scoop slam. He has him uuuuuuuup...NO. The First slips out and finds himself at JA's rear! Quickly now, he shoves JA into the ropes, JA comes back off them in reverse, and the First with a VICTORY ROLL!

1.........................




2..............................




JA is out at TWO! Both men now, finding their feet and charging at one another... arm drag by the First! JA's up quickly though and attempts to, no... another arm drag by the First, sending JA back to the canvas! Again, JA is up - this time trying a clothesline, but the First ducks it! The First now.. CHARGING at JA, but JA dodges the First's outstretched arm! The First - hitting the ropes - shooting back toward the center of the ring and-

[SMACK!]

DT: THERE'S A DROP TOE HOLD BY JA! The First hits the mat face first, and it looks like JA is quick to come down after him, applying a side headlock as the First fights to get back to a vertical base! Good back and forth exchange here as the fans in attendance respond to the action, but it's the Anglo Luchador who now has the First on one knee with his head locked in beneath his arm! The First... squirming about and hitting the mid-section of JA with his forearm, trying to build up some kind of momentum and wiggle his way out of the hold, but JA won't relent! JA reeeeeeeally cinching in on that neck. The First has managed to reassume a standing position, but it doesn't look like he's done much of anything with this hold.

DM: It's a bit of a stalemate right now, but the longer JA is able to keep that hold locked in, the worse its gonna be for the First.

DT: The First looked to have all the momentum in the early going, Dean, but now it appears as if JA has turned the tables.

DM: Well it ain't over yet.

DT: The referee steps in to check on the status of the First, but the First is quick to warn him away!

MN: He's not ready to mail this thing in yet, eh?

DT: No sir! And it looks like he's actually responding with more punches to the side of JA.

DM: Still workin' those kidneys.

DT: JA still has the hold on, but it looks to be weakening! The First is firing a steady line of punches to the midsection with his right hand while grasping at JA's other side with his left. The First.... now trying to push off of JA's body with his arms, but that hold is still locked in.

DM: I dunno if locked is the word at this point, the First is working on it - JA's gotta be careful here.

DT: The First... now looks to be positioning his left arm over JA's back - he's raising it up.... RABBIT PUNCH to the back of the neck by the First!

MN: Heh, rabbit punch...

DM: He didn't have much leverage with that punch, but he caught the right spot for sure.

DT: Another punch to the back of JA's neck, and fans... I cannot stress enough the amount of damage that can be dealt with these kinds of punches!

DM: JA's hold looks like it's loosening a bit, but yeah... you gotta watch out for those rabbit punches. That can be severe neck and spine damage.

DT: The First really laying in now with a hammer-fisted punch to the base of the skull, creating more and more separation between he and the Anglo Luchador with each strike!! JA is attempting to reposition himself with the hold, but WHAT'S THIS?! The First grasps JA at the sides and is attempting to up-end him! JA - releasing the hold now and trying to retaliate with a strike to the side of the face, but the FIRST HAS HIM UP! The First has JA up in the air... going for the SUUUUUUPLEEEEEEEEEEEX.......

MN: NO!!

DT: JA is able to flip back and land on his feet as the First attempted the belly-to-back suplex! The Anglo Luchador now.. spinning the First about and catching him with a swooping cross to the jaw! And a jab! And another! A flurry of punches now from the Anglo Luchador and the First is reeling once again!

MN: C'mon bro, don't punk out on us!

DT: The First is forced back against the ropes and after a couple more jabs to the face for good measure, Jerichoholic Anonymous sends him shooting off to the other side of the ring with the whip! Back the other way now and THE FIRST is able to leap frog a lunging JA and continue on to the opposite side. Comin' back one more time and it's the First with a HEADSCISSOR TAKEOVER! Down goes JA!! Both men are quick to find their feet... but as JA charges in-

[SMACK!]

DT: It's the First catching him with a CRAZY dropkick!

DM: He flipped around in the air like Pele on that one!

DT: Both men up in a hurry once again and it's The First with a hip toss - NO! Reverse! It's JA with an arm drag! Both men up for a THIRD GO-ROUND, but this time it's THE FIRST with a KICK TO THE GUT! He's got him set-

DM: Here it comes!

DT: JA's uuuuuuuuuuuuup....

[THUDDDDDD!!!]

DT: Aaaaannd DOOOOOOOOWN IN A HURRY WITH THE SIT-DOWN POWERBOMB!!!!

DM: WHAT IMPACT! And right to that back once again!!

DT: JA is OUT COLD on the canvas, as the First grabs the second rope and pulls himself back to his feet!! The fans are up and out of the seats, sensing as the First must, that JA is on his last legs!

MN: He's puttin' this baby to bed!

DT: The First, turns his attention back to JA and is.. PULLING HIM UP BY THE HAIR!

MN: These emo kids are vicious!

DT: Once again, the official is quick to admonish the First, warning him to release the hair, and this time he complies.

DM: What's he gonna do here?

DT: The First... has JA back on his feet and is guiding him into the turnbuckle. He's got 'im by the arm and.... it looks like he's ascending the turnbuckle! The First - makes his way to the top rope and he still has the Anglo Luchador in his grasp!

MN: Oh my.

DT: The First still clinging to that arm and... what's this? It looks like he's stepping out onto the rope! The display of balance and agility, ladies and gentlemen... it's really unbelievable! The First has JA by the arm and is walking along that top rope! Two steps, now THREE STEPS out and he's still got the former A1E champ by the arm! The fans are rising to their feet now as the First faces the Anglo Luchador!

DM: Look out!

DT: The First, perched atop that tight rope, zeroing in on JA... and JUMPING off the top rope!

[SLAM!!!]

DT: The First CONNECTING with a chopping strike as he leapt off that top rope! Down goes JA, as the First rolls into the landing! The First, rising to his feet now - flipping his hair up as he stands proudly! THIS COULD BE IT!! The First... gathers a full head of steam and DASHES at JA - it's the INESCAPABLE TORMENT!!!!! That Oklahoma Roll that- NOOOOOO!!! JA USES THE FIRST'S MOMENTUM AGAINST HIM AND ROLLS IT OVER!! THE REFEREE IS IN POSITION!!

ONE.............................




TWO.................................




THREEEEEEEEEE!!!!

MN: WHAT?! HE HAD THE TIGHTS!!!

[DING! DING DING!]

DT: JA HAS STOLEN A VICTORY FROM THE FIRST!!!

MN: DUDE! HE HAD THE TIGHTS!!

DT: The Anglo Luchador, rolls through that pinning predicament, turns it around on the First, and gets a fist full of tights to seal the deal!

[A dazed and confused Anglo Luchador quickly rolls out of the ring and stumbles backward. Inside the squared circle, the First is stunned.]

DM: Words probably can't express the disappointment he's feeling right now.

DT: The First attempted to lock up that trademark cover, but JA actually used the First's momentum to turn it over on him!

DM: And again, as he displayed throughout the match, a slick maneuver by JA, grabbing the tights... the referee was out of position, and before ya know it, he's got the win.

MN: ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! I'm a total douche-bag and even I thought that was a joke!

DT: Well, no matter how you look at it, it will go down as a victory for JA, despite the fact that the First really controlled the match, and despite the fact that it was an act of desperation that secured the W.

[In the ring, the First is screaming at the official; desperately pleading his case. Meanwhile, JA stumbles up the entryway with his hands raised into the air.]

DM: Listen, the First is a guy who's gonna make waves in the year to come, but tonight... dubious though it may have been, The Anglo Luchador did what he needed to do to became the first guy out of the gate!

DT: Score one for Jerichoholic Anonymous. It will be interesting to see what the fallout of this thing is.

MN: Blahhh..

DT: We'll be right back!

DBrunkGXW
01-16-08, 04:57 PM
[Fade into the backstage area, around the employee’s lounge. The room is mostly empty with the exception of senior Empire Pro referee, Pat Jones, in the process of buying himself a Coke. As he hits the vend button and gets his can, he stands up and turns around, nearly running into the broad chest of EPW Owner, Dan Ryan.]

Pat: Mr. Ryan! How are you? Great show so far, huh?

Ryan: It’s been going well… I need to talk to you about something, Pat.

Pat: What’s up?

Ryan: Well, here’s the deal…

[Ryan puts his arm around the referee’s shoulder and turns him to the camera.]

Ryan: You’ve been a loyal man since the beginning days of Empire Pro, Pat. You’ve called some big matches in your tenure, and you’ve proven to be a very loyal associate. I’m in your debt for all your years working for this company… but tonight, I have a big favor to ask of you.

Pat: What do you need from me?

Ryan: Last week, I set up tonight’s match between Kin Hiroshi and Rocko Daymon to determine the number one contender. Rather than do the safe thing and get someone like you or David or any of the other guys to call this match, I took the risk by naming Stalker as the guest referee. My hope was that when given the task of being the official, we wouldn’t have another interference… but now some are saying that he might just do more damage with that kind of authority than if I had left him out of this.

[At this time, from around the corner behind them appears Caitlyn Daymon with a dollar bill in hand, approaching the vending machines.]

Ryan: A winner MUST be determined between Daymon and Hiroshi… but I’m having second thoughts on whether a man as unpredictable as Stalker will be at liberty to choose one between them.

[Hearing these names, Caitlyn knows she’s listening into an important conversation, and quickly ducks back behind the corner to continue eavesdropping, unnoticed.]

Ryan: What I’m saying is that there’s a chance that Stalker may not fulfill his duties as the referee. But to determine a winner, there needs to be a back-up… somebody who will hit that ring and take his place if it’s clear that he can’t finish the match. I want YOU to be that man, Pat. I want you standing right there by the curtain while that match is taking place, and if things go awry, I need you to get out there and bring some order to the chaos. Think you can handle that?

[Jones weighs the importance of this task, and nods.]

Pat: It won’t be a problem, Mr. Ryan.

Ryan: Thank you, Pat. Take care tonight, and don’t let me down.

[Dan walks past the camera, leaving the senior referee to walk in the other direction. Caitlyn Daymon has disappeared… but her voice is audible.]

Caitlyn: Hey, Pat…

[Jones looks around the corner, unable to make out who is calling him.]

Pat: Who is that?

Caitlyn: Over here.

[Pat steps around the corner. We can suddenly hear a THUD! of metal bumping against bone, and the referee’s upper body suddenly spills out in view of the camera! He’s promptly dragged out of sight, and we go back to ringside.]

DBrunkGXW
01-16-08, 04:58 PM
[We come back from commercial a tad late, as The Sergeant’s music is still playing in the background while he holds up the Intercontinental Title standing on the second turnbuckle. Andrew Rossi leans against another turnbuckle, obviously favoring his neck.]

DM: Word from the back now as we had been wondering if this next match was gonna take place here tonight or not. As many of you know, our very own owner Dan Ryan put Rossi out of commission over in NAPW a few weeks back, seriously injuring his neck and ending Rossi’s NAPW career. Now we’re being told that Ryan has ordered Rossi to compete tonight against doctor’s orders.

DT: This is outrageous. Ryan is forcing Rossi to wrestle when he is in absolutely no shape to what so ever.

DM: It's a shame really.

MN: A shame? It's an order straight from the boss. HE HAS TO WRESTLE.

DT: Well, it's still not right.

DM: Doesn't seem like Sarge minds one bit as he quickly charges at Rossi. Rossi tries to move out of the way but stumbles to the mat as he moves, causing Sarge to stop short and just stare at his fallen oppenent.

DT: Rossi is sitting there holding his neck in pain and I don't think he wants to stand back up.

MN: IT'S HIS JOB TO STAND UP!

DM & DT: SHUT UP!

MN: Damn.. okay okay..

DT: Rossi is cringing in pain.. I think it took all his energy to even get to the ring in the first place.

DM: The Sarge is looking to end this right now and he grabs Rossi by the head making him scream in agony.. Sarge sets him up... OH MY GOD PILEDRIVER!! Rossi...

DT: Folks.. Rossi looks as if he just went completely limp after that move and even the ref looks sick of this and he's telling Sarge to cover him.. Sarge finally does.. 1.2..3! It's over.

MN: That was obvious.

DT: Well, we’re gonna cut away as they tend to Rossi in the ring, and he does seem to be moving around okay and starting to come to..……BUT - The match to determine the number one contender to the World Title is up next. We’ll be right back….

DBrunkGXW
01-16-08, 04:59 PM
DT: Alright folks, we’re back. It’s been a hectic struggle over the past few months, but hopefully we’ll find a conclusion here tonight to this number one contender’s situation.

DM: Doubtful, considering our referee…

[“Death Is This Communion” hits the PA. The lights around the arena dim, all focus put on the red haze around the stage.]

TF: Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall, and will determine the rightful number one contender for the EPW World Title. Introducing first… from Tacoma, Washington… weighing in at 242 pounds… HERE IS… ROOOOCCCKOOOOOO DAAAAYYMMOOOOONNN!!!!

[An explosion PEALS over the stage as Rocko Daymon makes his entrance, taking a moment to pump his fist to the crowd. His supporters give him a very HEFTY pop as he makes his way to the ring.]

DM: So after begging for yet another second chance… Rocko Daymon finds himself in this match. How many times is Dan Ryan going to push this guy?

DT: You forget, Dean, that Rocko Daymon’s proven his worth on many occasions. The reaction from the fans is proof of that. Just last week, he single-handedly defeated the Tag Team Champions, the Proletariat. He’s had substantial victories all over…

DM: But he can’t seem to win when it MATTERS…

DT: Well, tonight it matters… and he is intent on silencing the critics. Daymon comes to the ring alone this time, I can only guess out of safety for his wife, Caitlyn.

DM: Good. That’s one less worry for his opponent.

[Rocko hits the ring and makes his rounds to the corners to flash a few poses for the fans. After a few moments, the lights fade out and “Sigillum Diaboli” by H.I.M. begins to play. The Hiroshi fans in the audience CHEER wildly!]

TF: And his opponent… from Tokyo, Japan… weighing in at 235 pounds… he is the NUMBER ONE CONTENDER… HE IS… “THE MUFFIN MAN”… KIIIIIIN HIIIIROOOOSHIIIIII!!!

[BIG pyro explodes over the ring as Kin Hiroshi makes his appearance. He paces the stage a few times to get the crowd into it, and makes his way down the ramp.]

DT: The Number One Contender earned his right to fight for the title at the last Aggression with a questionable victory over JA…

MN: Yeah, this guy hardly deserves what he’s been given. Which is why I’m not complaining to see him have to defend it here tonight.

DM: I’d rather see JA coming down that ramp, but whatever… the man can wrestle, and I’d rather seem him as the champion before Rocko.

[Hiroshi comes up the steel steps and enters the ring, going to the ropes to POSE for the cheering fans! He eyes Rocko meticulously, and then his music ends. “I Did My Time” by Korn hits the PA, and the audience begins to BOO LOUDLY!]

TF: And now introducing your Special Guest Referee… from Seattle, Washington, HERE IS… STTAAAAAALLLKEEEEEERRRR!!!

[With a bitter sneer across his face, Stalker emerges from the entry-way and comes to the ring. He comes bearing an over-sized and tattered referee shirt.]

DT: Dan Ryan made a very gutsy call when he declared Stalker as this match’s officiator. In one hand, both the competitors won’t have to watch over their backs for an outside interference, but at the same time, one really has to wonder just what Stalker has in mind for this match.

DM: Is he going to call it straight down the middle? Some would call that very unlikely. I think Dan Ryan really underestimated this fool’s brainpower. Stalker only cares about his own interests, and he’d gladly screw someone over in this match if he wanted to.

MN: Well of course! He’s in a key position. Everybody knows how much he HATES both Rocko Daymon and Kin Hiroshi, and now he can finally sit back and watch the two of them beat the hell out of each other. He’ll probably enjoy this more than anybody else.

[Stalker is hesitant as he enters the ring and keeps his distance from the two combatants. From two opposing corners, Daymon and Hiroshi stare daggers into him. Stalker seems aware of all the heat and a bitter smile spreads over his face. Without making any checks, he just points at the timekeeper and steps back.]

DT: It seems as though Stalker has made his final preparations, and makes the signal to the timekeeper… the bell sounds, and the fight for the right to be the number one contender is underway!

DM: Here comes Hiroshi out of his corner… Daymon stays in place, playing it safe and putting himself into a ready posture. He knows “The Muffin Man” can be dangerous if he gets behind him.

MN: That’s called the “Buttguard Stance” over in Poland.

DT: Hiroshi tentatively coming forward, waiting for Daymon to make his first move… and Daymon suddenly comes CHARGING out of the corner with a running clothesline, and Hiroshi DUCKS! Daymon stops himself on the ropes and puts himself into the corner again. These opening moments are pivotal in the pacing of a match. Rocko obviously wants to come out fists swinging…

DM: But he may have a hard time accomplishing that against a ring general like Hiroshi. “The Muffin Man” slowly advancing again… comes to a stop outside of striking range… and both men charge forward with the lockup!

DT: Daymon quickly pivots around, and now he’s muscling Kin Hiroshi into the corner! Hiroshi has contact with the ropes… why isn’t Stalker making a break?

DM: Maybe he lacks proper knowledge of the basic rules of this sport…

MN: Or maybe he just willingly doesn’t want to.

DT: Rocko with a KNEE to the mid-section of Kin Hiroshi… and there’s the SECOND… hoping to get some momentum going, and now there’s the Irish Whip to—no WAIT! Hiroshi reverses, and DEFTLY drops Rocko with a Drop Toe Hold!

DM: Hiroshi, with the transition to a textbook STF, and now Daymon’s feeling the burn!

DT: Hiroshi has put his excellent mat skills to work to prevent his opponent from gaining any sort of momentum… and now Rocko Daymon finds himself in a predicament as Hiroshi has the submission locked in. Stalker isn’t even bothering to ask him he’ll submit, although he seems to be enjoying it enough…

MN: If he starts playing with his nipples, I’m outta here…

DM: It’s Rocko Daymon, now, trying to inch his way to the ropes. The problem with the STF is that it leaves you little leverage to try and pin your opponent in place. Hiroshi, putting everything he’s got into that STF… but Rocko reaches the bottom rope and hangs on!

DT: He’s got it! …but Stalker doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to warn Hiroshi about breaking the hold! Now he’s TRASH TALKING Rocko Daymon! What did he say?

MN: I think it was something like, “Don’t be a ‘swear-word’ and get out of it yourself.”

DT: Daymon’s in trouble now… and he begins to rock back and forth to flip himself over! Hiroshi trying to maintain balance, but Rocko Daymon is DESPERATELY trying to break himself from the hold in light of Stalker’s biased officiating! Daymon gaining some momentum… and THERE’S the roll-over!

DM: And Hiroshi just ROLLS him right back onto his belly, and continues the—OH NO!! Daymon used the distraction to get his hands up and prevent him from sinking in the chinlock! Rocko breaks free, and both men rush to their feet!

DT: Rocko comes at Hiroshi with a big right hand—and Hiroshi catches him by the arm, followed with a JAPANESE ARM DRAG! Rocko up again, and Hiroshi with ANOTHER arm drag, puts him to the mat again! The Number One Contender is putting forward some slick techniques to keep Rocko Daymon from getting in any hits.

MN: Not a bad strategy, considering Rocko’s got a set of knuckles that could smack the sobriety into that speed-freak faster than a Lindsay Lohan relapse episode.

DM: Daymon up again… opts for a standing side-kick, but Hiroshi catches him by the leg! Draws him in… and Rocko goes UP AND OVER with a Capture Suplex from Kin Hiroshi! He couldn’t get off a shot if his life depended on it!

DT: Rocko trying to get up… but Hiroshi’s there with a KNEE to the side of the head, and he quickly goes for the cover! Here’s Stalker with the count…

One…





And Rocko with the kick-out! What an UNBELIEVABLY slow count! Did he somehow forget that TWO follows one?!

MN: Like I said earlier… you can predict an extremely unbiased match. Stalker will stretch this out if he has to. Or maybe he’s just trying to anger either Hiroshi or Daymon to the point where they confront him, and he can DQ their ass on the spot.

DM: I think Dan Ryan made a bad choice when he picked Stalker as a special guest referee…

DT: I think you may be right, Dean, but at least we won’t have to worry about him interfering. Hiroshi throwing Stalker an angry glance, but he gets Rocko back to his feet… hooks him around the face, and DROPS him with a Side Russian Legsweep! Hiroshi with another pin attempt! One-TWO!—OH!!

[Audience BOOS loudly!]

DT: Rocko with the near kickout before three, although if you ask me, those counts were lightning fast! WHAT is Stalker’s agenda in this match?

DM: Hiroshi throwing him another warning glance, and Stalker is just smirking at him, telling him to keep it up. Hiroshi obliging, takes Rocko by the arm… turns around, and DRIVES IT DOWN over his shoulder with a standard Arm Breaker! Daymon is left reeling, and now here’s Hiroshi from behind… double underhooks, and FOLLOWS THROUGH with a BRIDGING TIGER SUPLEX!!

DT: Here’s Stalker with the count again!

ONE…






TWO… and Rocko kicks out shortly after the two. Slow count again, and now Hiroshi’s getting positively riled.

MN: Come on, it’s not like he nearly just cost Daymon the match a few moments ago with that quick count.

DT: Hiroshi continues to keep his momentum going, regardless of the topsy-turvy officiating… he takes Rocko by the arm and brings him to his feet… slaps on a hammerlock, and puts in a cross-face with his free arm! Could be going for a Chickwing Hold—BUT WAIT!! Rocko breaks free of the cross-face and twists out of the hammerlock!

DM: And Hiroshi BOOTS him in the gut before he can break his arm free! Hiroshi reels him in and slaps on a Front Face Lock… going for the DDT—but DENIED, as Rocko plants his feet and holds him in place!

DT: Rocko trying to fight back… now he wraps his arms around Hiroshi’s torso… and FLIPS HIM OVER with a released Northern Lights Suplex! Rocko Daymon finally showing some offense, but Hiroshi may have slowed him down with his advantage earlier in this match!

MN: Slowed, but likely not stopped.

DM: Daymon looking hurt, but he bounces off the ropes… RUNNING FOREARM to the face of Kin Hiroshi as he gets to his feet! Daymon goes around to his blindspot and puts himself into a three-point stance—TURN AROUND KIN!!

DT: TOO LATE!! Rocko with a RUNNING SPEAR sweeps Hiroshi off his feet, and now Daymon goes to work on his face with a series of HEAVY right hands! This is what we were talking about earlier… Daymon can severely damage his opponent with his stiff brawling style. Luckily for Kin Hiroshi, he can take a beating…

MN: Well it’s good that he can take it, because that’s what he’s going to get…

DT: Rocko continues the ground and pound as Kin Hiroshi tries to defend himself. Stalker doesn’t seem to mind closed fists being used, and Daymon seems to be taking advantage of the lenient ruling. Hiroshi looks to be bleeding from the lip, and now his eyes are fluttering from the series of shots he’s taken to the head…

DM: “The Muffin Man” is in serious trouble now… Rocko is going straight for the KO. Finally, he comes off of Hiroshi’s chest, and brings his opponent up with him… hooks both arms, and OH!! Just drills him straight on the forehead with a Double-Arm DDT!!

DT: Kin Hiroshi is down for the count, and now Rocko makes the cover… how fast will Stalker count this time?



Nevermind, I guess he won’t count at all!

DM: What blatant disregard to his duty as the referee. Rocko DEMANDING he makes the count… and Stalker just flips him off in the face!

MN: This whole thing is just ridiculous now…

DT: Tell me about it, Mike. Neither man can seemingly finish the other one off with Stalker playing these games of his. But still, Rocko Daymon continuing his offense… he takes Hiroshi by the legs and drags him to the corner. What’s he got planned now?

DM: Doubt it will be a standard submission hold… Daymon tucks Hiroshi’s legs under his arms… falls BACK WITH A SLINGSHOT—and Kin Hiroshi was just YANKED off the mat and face-first into the top turnbuckle!

DT: Daymon, using his environment to his advantage to keep control, as he’s been known to do in recent months… now he’s taking ahold of Kin Hiroshi from behind… and there’s the BACK SUPLEX out of the corner—and HIROSHI flips onto his feet! Hiroshi rushes Daymon into that corner… tucks his legs under his arms, and goes for a VICTORY ROLL—

MN: DENIED… Daymon grabs the top rope to prevent himself from going butt-to-butt with “The Muffin Man.”

DM: Hiroshi in trouble as he finds himself on his back without his legs… now Rocko, backing up… reaches down and hooks Hiroshi by the waist… whips him forward, and—OH MAN, what a WHEELBARROW FACEBUSTER!!

DT: Quick thinking from Rocko Daymon, preventing a potential counter-pin into a very devastating attack… although you have to wonder if Hiroshi’s pin attempt would have paid off with Stalker making the rules here. Daymon keeping the heat on, as he lifts Hiroshi off the mat… hooks him around the face… DROPS HIM with a Side Russian Legsweep!

DM: Keeps the hold locked in as he brings him to his feet again… A SECOND Russian Legsweep!

DT: We’ve seen this before, and it’s done well to get the job done… Rocko brings Hiroshi back up… A THIRD Russian Legsweep, and now he is simply mauling the Number One Contender in there!

DM: Let’s see if it goes anywhere as Rocko makes another pin attempt…

DT: …and Stalker, AGAIN, refuses to make a count! He obviously hates both of these men, but he must hate Rocko just a little bit more to not even give him a chance to win this match and move on to face the champion at Black Dawn!

DM: I feel a bit guilty for saying this, but neither would I…

MN: Right, Dean. That’s why you’re sitting behind a desk instead of, you know, wrestling…

DM: Doesn’t mean I couldn’t, Mike. I just choose not to.

MN: Whatever…

DT: Daymon up onto his feet, and now he gets into Stalker’s face! Stalker is just TAUNTING him, just waiting for him to make his one move and he’ll ring the bell and end it for him right there! Meanwhile, Kin Hiroshi is being given ample time to recover!

DM: Shouldn’t have turned his back on him…

DT: Daymon going back to Hiroshi… hooks him around the waist, and goes for a GUTWRECH SUPLEX—but Hiroshi LANDS ON HIS FEET!! Hiroshi with the reversal, takes ahold of Rocko from behind… and boosts him into the TORTURE RACK!!

DM: HERE IT COMES!! HIROSHIMA’S LITTLE BOY!!

DT: NO WAIT!! Stalker just TRIPPED Hiroshi’s legs out from under him! What the HELL was that all about!

DM: Stalker’s crossing the line now! Bad officiating is one thing, but now he’s directly getting involved in this match!

MN: Maybe that was his punishment for Hiroshi taking too long to get the job done…

DT: Hiroshi on his face, and now HE’S getting into Stalker’s face! He just SHOVED the referee, and Stalker’s threatening to DQ him! Regardless of how ridiculous this is, Hiroshi better be careful, or he might just hand Rocko his title shot on a silver platter!

DM: Come on, Kin, chill out and focus on your opponent!

DT: Hiroshi turns around… and Rocko MEETS HIM WITH A BOOT TO THE GUT… and THERE’S THE BRAIN ROCKER!! Daymon took advantage of the distraction from Stalker, and now Hiroshi has been laid out!

DM: DAMN THAT BUM!!

DT: Rocko makes the cover… and Stalker’s actually going for the COUNT!!

ONE!!

TWO!!

…and Stalker just suddenly STOOD UP AND KICKED ROCKO right off!!

DM: FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!! This circus never ends!! Somebody has to stop this!!

MN: Where’s the back-up ref when you need him?

DT: Rocko on his feet, getting into Stalker’s face… and Stalker with a BLATANT SLAP!! Rocko Daymon is LUCID!! Wait a second, somebody’s running down the ramp…

IT’S JA!!

DM: ALRIGHT!! The Anglo Luchadore to the rescue!!

DT: JA hits the ring… and Stalker hardly sees him coming as he TACKLES HIM to the mat!! JA ferociously driving his fists into Stalker’s face! Man, he is PISSED!!

DM: Naturally! That piece of garbage cost him his title shot at the last Aggression when he interfered in his match with Kin Hiroshi!

MN: Man, what a sore loser…

DT: JA and Stalker brawling on the mat… and they slide under the ropes to the outside, leaving only the two competitors in the ring! Now’s their chance to finish this! Here’s Rocko looking the entry-way and calling for a replacement! Somebody get down here and make a ruling!

DM: Daymon goes back to Hiroshi to keep him in his control… he lifts him off the mat, and there’s the whip to the corner… Rocko going in for the BACK-FIRST SPLASH—NO!! Hiroshi jumps to the side!! Daymon left REELING after connecting with the turnbuckle… Hiroshi lifts him UP FROM BEHIND—ACHE ELL BEE!!

DT: HE DID IT!! Now where’s the referee?

MN: Outside the ring, going toe to toe with JA.

DT: Not THAT one… the back-up! Hiroshi calling to the backstage area… and THERE!! A referee has finally emerged, as is making his way down to the ring!

DM: …is that a referee?

MN: Well, it’s a striped shirt.

[Dean’s suspicions are with merit as the referee comes clad in unusually baggy clothes, along with unusual looking hair, a mustache, and large glasses. Definitely not a familiar face as part of the Empire Pro staff.]

DM: That doesn’t look like one of EPW’s regular referees!

MN: I don’t think Hiroshi cares at this point… he just wants to finish this.

DT: Hiroshi going for the pin as our replacement makes the count…


ONE…





TWO… WHAT THE HELL—?! KICKOUT from Rocko Daymon to yet ANOTHER unbelievably slow count!

DM: Who the HELL is that in the ring!?

DT: Hiroshi getting up and he is FURIOUS as he goes to the ref to see what the deal is… and here’s ROCKO with the ROLL-UP FROM BEHIND!! Back-up ref with the count…

ONE-TWO-THREE!! WAIT!! HIROSHI KICKED OUT!!

DM: That count was WAY too fast!

DT: HIROSHI KICKED OUT… but the referee CUES THE BELL!! NO, WAIT, THIS ISN’T OVER!!

[“Death Is This Communion” hits the PA as Hiroshi is left sitting on his knees, stunned. The crowd is decidedly mixed, as everybody present CLEARLY saw Hiroshi kickout right before the count of three.]

TF: Ladies and gentlemen, here is your winner… and NEW Number One Contender… ROOOOCKOOOO DAAAAAYYYMMOOOOONNN!!!

DM: Who IS that referee?!

DT: Something isn’t right here… not only was that count too fast, but the referee clearly overlooked the kickout made by Kin Hiroshi. This has screwjob spelled all over it.

MN: WHO CARES!? Rocko WON!! He’s going to Black Dawn to fight SEAN STEVENS!!

DT: This isn’t right… wait a second, what’s happening in the ring?

[Rocko Daymon stands victoriously, raising his arms, though seemingly oblivious to what happened… then he notices the new ref, holding up his right arm, does a double take… and suddenly sneers. He reaches over, rips off the fake mustache, and removes the shoddy wig, revealing the identity of the referee…]

DT: CAITLYN DAYMON?!

DM: You gotta be kidding me…

MN: Huh… imagine that.

DT: What a gyp! That is NOT the referee Dan Ryan put in place to serve as the back-up! She’s not a referee, PERIOD! She just gave her husband the win… and both Kin Hiroshi AND Rocko Daymon look obviously pissed upon this realization!

MN: Who cares?! The decision was made! The winner was announced! We’ve got a new number one contender!

[The Daymons begin bickering on the spot, when Hiroshi suddenly interjects and SHOVES Caitlyn, demanding to know what she thinks she’s doing. In response, Rocko shoves Hiroshi, and the two immediately begin fighting!]

DT: Here we go, the brawl continues between Hiroshi and Daymon over the controversy of who rightfully won this match!

MN: Wait a minute, Stalker just WHIPPED JA into the barricade on the outside… and now he’s taking the opportunity to get back into the ring! The OLD ref is back and ready to continue!

DT: No he’s not! Stalker TACKLES Rocko the mat, and now he’s wailing away on his face! Caitlyn jumping onto his back, trying to get him off… and JA follows him into the ring, and meets up with Hiroshi! There’s just complete and utter PANDEMONIUM IN THE RING as everybody brawls mercilessly!

[The timekeeper rings the bell incessantly until a troop of ring officials and security guards storm the ring and separate everybody. Nearly four men have to keep Rocko restrained from attacking Stalker, who is equally fervent in crossing over to the other side of the ring. Hiroshi and JA are split apart, and JA drops out of the ring, indicating he isn’t there to continue fighting any longer. After a few moments of chaos, “Zero” by the Smashing Pumpkins hits the PA.]

DM: Here comes the boss to finally set things straight, and boy, does HE look angry!

[Ryan is holding a mic as he comes out, his face looking very stern.]

Ryan: Alright, that’s enough… Rocko… Kin… JA… and you too, Caitlyn. I want all of you in my office, and we’re going to talk this over.

[The infighting stops, and all those named are escorted by security up the ramp to the backstage area. Stalker is prepped to be led away when he hops a barricade and disappears into the crowd.]

DT: I wonder what this is going to be about?

DM: Hopefully he’ll reverse that decision, cause that was complete and utter bullcrap.

MN: Yeah, well, at least Rocko made a PINFALL to become number one contender!

DT: Folks, we have to take a commercial break, but we’ll see if we can bring some resolution to this issue by the time we get back…

[Fade to commercial.]

DBrunkGXW
01-16-08, 05:00 PM
[We fade back in from commercial as Kenny Lombardo, with the camera following him, hurries to the open door to the office of Dan Ryan. We can hear a very audible tumult coming from within. The reporter rushes in, discovering a heated exchange taking place between Caitlyn Daymon and Kin Hiroshi. Further back we can spot JA relentlessly pacing back and forth, shaking his head. An irritated Rocko Daymon sits in one of the chairs. Across the desk from him is the “The Ego Buster” himself, looking like he’s about to shoot himself.]

Hiroshi: —HAD ABSOLUTELY NO BUSINESS—

Caitlyn: —THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE—

Hiroshi: —BEING IN THAT RING, AND I’LL SAY WHATEVER—

Caitlyn: —TALKING TO ME THAT WAY—THERE WAS NO REF, YOU—

Ryan: Alright, QUIET!! The both of you!

[The bickering immediately comes to a halt, but Caitlyn shifts her argument to the EPW Owner in a more indoor volume.]

Caitlyn: Mr. Ryan, this is ridiculous. My husband was rightfully announced the winner of that match after getting the pinfall, in light of the original referee being detained. Rocko is the rightful number one contender!

Rocko: “Rightful”… geez, Caitlyn, you really screwed up this time.

Hiroshi: Excuse me, WHAT?! Last I checked, crazy chicks in disguise hardly qualify as “referees.” You aren’t an official, and the decision wasn’t official either, so Mr. Ryan, if you please, just reverse that decision and let me go home with my title shot in tact.

[JA steps in to interject, speaking directly to Hiroshi.]

JA: Pardon me, “Muffin Man,” but you wouldn’t even BE the number one contender if that trippin’ BUM hadn’t interfered and given you the DEE-KYOO!

[The chaotic squabble suddenly reemerges.]

Caitlyn: —WHAT THE HELL IS SO “OFFICIAL” ABOUT—

Hiroshi: —MAYBE A TECHNICALITY, BUT IT’S STILL A WIN—

Rocko: —LOOK, I KNOW SHE’S CRAZY, BUT—

JA: —A WIG AND ZEBRA SHIRT DON’T MAKE A REF—

Caitlyn: —HARDLY DESERVED TO BE NUMBER ONE—

Hiroshi: —YOU GOT IT THE SAME WAY YOU—

JA: —WOULD’VE WON ANYWAY IF THIS CRAZY—

Rocko: —YOU CAN’T TALK TO HER LIKE—

Ryan: ALL OF YOU SHUT UP!!!

[The boss’ large fist comes slamming down onto the oak desk like a hammer, silencing the entire group with an ear-popping peal. Ryan falls back into his chair, rubbing his temples.]

Ryan: It’s evident to me that the only way this is going to be resolved is to just go back to where all this began. I’m booking a rematch from Russian Roulette… the three of you in the ring at the next Aggression. Winner gets the title shot. And just to prevent any more controversy, no disqualifications, no interferences, and absolutely NOBODY at ringside. There will be an undisputed number one contender by the end of the night. Everybody good with that?

[The three think it over.]

Rocko: Sure.

Hiroshi: Fine by me.

JA: Same here… but Danny, can you actually guarantee that hobo won’t be stickin’ his nose into our business? What are you gonna do, have security surround the ring?

Ryan: Stalker’s interfering has gone on long enough. If he goes ANYWHERE near that ring during your match, he’ll be immediately suspended. He can watch Black Dawn at home.

Hiroshi: Can we really expect this guy to be afraid of a simple suspension? Is that going to be enough to keep him out of this match?

Rocko: He’s got a point. Stalkers’ a loose cannon. You can’t expect him to be scared off by a suspension threat… that would only make him laugh. He’s not going to stop either until he gets a taste of blood or somebody puts him out of commission.

JA: And just who is gonna be the patsy in that? YOU?

Hiroshi: I’ll be damned if I give up MY title shot just to be his punching bag for the night…

Rocko: Look, I’m just pointing out the problem. I don’t have a solution.

Caitlyn: …I’ll do it.

[Silence falls over the room as everybody looks to Caitlyn. JA suddenly throws his head back and laughs.]

JA: Yeah, sure… knock yourself out… literally.

Hiroshi: No objections here. It’s your funeral.

[Skeptically, Ryan scratches his chin.]

Ryan: You realize it’s probably going to be Stalker’s Rules? It will be dangerous.

Caitlyn: I can handle it.

Ryan: If you say so, then—

Rocko: Whoa, wait, wait, timeout… can we have a minute to talk this over?

Ryan: Go ahead…

[Rocko pulls his wife to the side.]

Rocko: Are you sure about this?

Caitlyn: Look, I’m already partly responsible for this whole mess, and somebody has to take a bullet in this. Might as well be me, especially if it means getting you a title shot. Besides, if anybody can put that bastard in the back of a ambulance, it’s me.

Rocko: I don’t know if I can handle seeing you get hurt again…

Caitlyn: Come on… you asked me to have faith in your ability to do this on your own. Try having some faith in ME, for once.

[Rocko deliberates to himself, then turns to the rest of the group.]

Rocko: I guess I’m for it.

Ryan: Then it’s settled. And just to level the playing field, guys, NONE of you may harm Stalker at any point in the night. There won’t be any provocation whatsoever. If any of you so much as get in the same ring with him, you will IMMEDIATELY forfeit your right to being the number one contender. Agreed?

[Everybody nods.]

Ryan: Alright, this meeting is adjourned. Good luck to all of you.

[After a tense and silent stare-down between all three competitors, they all file out of the office. Mojo reenters the frame.]

Ryan: Kenny… find me some Tylenol, or get lost.

[The reporter hastily makes his exit, and we go back to ringside.]

DT: Looks like this controversy will finally come to an end next Aggression, where the number one contender will FINALLY be determined for once and for all.

DM: And it’s about freakin’ time. Dan made a cool call on this one. No interferences… nobody at ringside… there won’t be any disputes this time. A winner will be determined.

MN: What if it’s JA?

DM: Then I’ll be happy.

MN: What if it’s Hiroshi?

DM: …I’ll get over it.

MN: What if it’s Rocko?

DM: …don’t want to think about it.

DBrunkGXW
01-16-08, 05:03 PM
DT: Let’s go up to the ring for our next match, and honestly I have no idea how this is gonna turn out. It’s obvious that Beast is on one side of things in our situation and it’s not the boss’ side.

DM: True. Meanwhile, Felix Red has been protecting the boss’ interests. Given, it’s most likely that he’ll only protect them as long as it benefits him, but in the meantime it leaves Beast in a very precarious situation.

DT: Well, we’re not even bothering with introductions it seems. Felix is in the ring with a scattered collection of weapons on the mat and I guess that’s what “Felix’s rules” means.

DM: Beast is here but he looks like he’s…I dunno…bored or something.

DT: They’re calling for the bell…

[Bell rings]

DT: …and I guess we’re underway. Lock-up in the middle of the ring and….well, Beast is hitting Felix on the top of his arm and yelling something…

[Suddenly the referee starts waving toward the timekeeper and the bell rings.]

DM: What in the hell is this??

[Beast and Felix break the lockup and Felix stares at the referee and back at Beast questioningly. Beast just smiles.]

TF: Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of this match…..BY SUBMISSION……FELIX RED!!!!

DT: The hell??

DM: Beast too?!

MN: See? Big loafy in action. Always exciting.

[Just then a group of people slide into the ring from all sides. On one side, TROY DOUGLAS, on another JA, behind him comes JAMES IRISH and finally ANDREW ROSSI and they immediately begin to pummel Felix Red, who tries to fight back but finally succumbs to the numbers game.]

DT: OH MY GOD!! WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?? ARE THESE MEN SIDING WITH BEAST???

[Just as quickly a swarm of security personnel come rushing to the ring and surround it, with ten to fifteen climbing in. The A1E/Beast crew form ranks and back up into each other as the larger group of security form a thick circle around them in the ring, but hold steady. Just then Dan Ryan steps out on the stage.]

DM: And the boss is here now!! This is gonna get interesting now…

Ryan: So, you’re pulling the ol’ losing on purpose routine tonight too eh Marcus? So much for your speech in A1E about my screwing the fans out of a match I suppose. Then again I suppose what’s good for the goose is good for the no good Canadian idiot.

MN: Ha….Canadian idiot.

Ryan: Now the rest of you….

[The camera pans over the faces of the rest standing with Beast, who listen intently but stand firm with Beast.]

Ryan: …I have things to say to each of you as well. First, I’ll begin with Andrew Rossi.

[The crowd cheers a little but the strong pro-EPW crowd takes over and boos overtake the cheers as the camera focuses on him.]

Ryan: Truth be told, I owe you one Andrew. I tore at your neck in NAPW, I ended your career there. Yes, I’ve been an asshole. For that, I apologize. Tonight’s the night I make it up. Back to that in a moment.

Troy, I have to say I’m disappointed in you. While we’ve had our personal differences you’ve always had a home here in Empire Pro. You were a pillar of the company from the beginning, so I have to say this is a let down.

JA, the same goes for you. I understand that A1E was always first in your heart. But at least you had the decency to stay out of matters when they got personal.

And James Irish, last but not least there’s you. Now with you, this is no surprise. In fact, as soon as Black Dawn is over your time with this company is up. Win or lose, your contract expires and I’ve chosen to allow you to leave in peace.

However – some announcements before we break this party.

[Ryan smiles.]

I’m happy to announce that the company has enjoyed record profits this year. I too am in fact making money hand over fist and I now believe it is high time I reward you, the workers for making it all possible.

Therefore I’m happy to announce that after Black Dawn, all active members of the Empire Pro family will be receiving a bonus check in the amount of $250,000 each.

[A shocked gasp reverberates throughout the arena.]

DT: Neely?? NEELY!!

[We get a shot of the broadcast booth, where Mike Neely has literally fallen out of his chair.]

Ryan: Yes, $250,000….EACH

[In the ring the contingent look at each other, each registering this news with a different level of shock. Beast, for his part looks at Ryan with his eyes narrowing and a disgusted shaking of his head. Ryan smiles once again.]

Ryan: There is a provision of course. Should any of you continue your alignment with Mr. Westcott, you will be considered ineligible for this bonus. Naturally, you’ll want time to think this over so you’ve got until Black Dawn to make a final decision. If you decide to continue on as valued members of this roster, your check will be in the mail and no harm will have been done. If you choose the other option – well, then Black Dawn may indeed be your last day with the company.

Remember Marcus – and the rest of you as well. I HOLD ALL THE CARDS. Make your decisions and make them wisely.

And before I forget – Andrew Rossi, I mentioned making it up to you. Well, let’s talk about how. As I stated before, James Irish will be leaving us after Black Dawn. I’m giving you the opportunity to take his place. At Black Dawn, you will be facing James Irish for the EPW Television Title.

Consider it a preliminary gift from me to you.

For the rest of you, I’ll allow you to leave on your own…

[The sea of security parts and allows the men, sans Beast to leave the ring. A few of them look at Beast questioningly but he waves them on, saying he’ll be fine. They walk up the ramp, eyeballing Ryan as they walk past and move through the curtain to the back.]

Ryan: As for you Marcus…..

[Felix Red can now be seen perched behind a group of security, wielding a bat wrapped in barbed wire. They part, and before Beast can react he takes a head full of barbed wire right between the eyes. Felix pummels him five or six more times before throwing the bat to the side and spitting down on him as well. Felix looks down at him in disgust before leaving the ring and heading back up the ramp.]

Ryan: …..I’ll see you next week on Warfare.

[Ryan winks and we get one last shot of Beast lying on the mat as we fade out….]

DBrunkGXW
01-16-08, 05:04 PM
[CUE UP: "Love Me or Hate Me," Lil Wayne.]

ANNOUNCER: This next contest is scheduled for ONE FALL and is a NON TITLE MATCH!

[Boos begin to rein down.]

ANNOUNCER: Making his way to the ring first ... from Orlando, Florida weighing in at two hundred and fifty-two pounds, he is the Empire Pro Wrestling WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION ... THE BLUE-EYED BADASS ... "TRIPLE X" SEAN STTTTTTEEEEEEVVVVVEEEEENNNNNNNS!!

[The curtain opens as Triple X walks through, in a sleeveless "King of the Cage" t-shirt, black and silver wrestling tights, and boots. His hair - wet - tied in a pony-tail, his EPW World Championship around his waist. The champ pauses at the top of the ramp, as the boos echo even louder with his every step. Slowly, he begins to make his stride down to the ring, raising his hand - and, cast - up in a slapping motion at one fan in particular who heckled him. Once Sean entered the ring, he snatched his championship from around his waist, and climbed up the nearest turnbuckle, raising it proudly in the air, as the camera bulbs flashed. Once he climbed down, he handed the title to the referee and took off his t-shirt as the lights dimmed.]

ANNOUNCER: And his opponent...

***** ADAM BENJAMIN'S ENTRANCE HERE DAVE! ******

[SFX: Ding, ding, ding.]

DT: Now that all of the formalities are out of the way, we are ready to get this thing underway. EPW World Champion Sean Stevens is still jawing something at some of the fans in attendance, as - I think - someone threw something in the ring and hit him ... ADAM BENJAMIN CHARGES IN WITH A FLYING FOREARM! He nailed Triple X directly on the back of the head, sending him into the turnbuckle!

DM: You never turn your back on a wrestler the calibre of Adam Benjamin! I don't care WHAT his record is of late, or what title you possess!

MN: That was a cheap shot, but I assure you, the champ won't let that one get away!

DT: Benjamin turns Stevens around and begins to wail away at the blue-eyed badass, as he tries to cover up to no avail! Benjamin pulls Sean to the center of the ring, he sends him to the ropes, Stevens reverses, Benjamin bounces off, Trip catches him with a tilt-a-whirl-- NO! Benjamin countered with a swinging head scissors!

MN: This is NOT fair! I like Adam Benjamin just as much as the next man, but he caught Triple X completely off guard! I say we give the champ a five minute breather, then let them start over! Not to mention Triple X has a FRACTURED wrist!

DM: Benjamin is fighting like he's got nothing to lose, and I agree - he doesn't! Stevens gave him a pep talk this week in one of his promos and Benjamin clearly listened! This is how you start a match!

DT: Triple X is up, so is Benjamin, Dropkick sends the champ to the mat! Both men are on their feet, Benjamin bounces off the ropes, Spinning Heel Kick sends Stevens back down on his back! The champ looks discombobulated! Triple X is still a little dazed ... he's in a sit-up position, Benjamin charges ... SLIDING DROPKICK! Benjamin with the pin... ONE! TWO! Stevens gets a shoulder up!!

MN: That was a quick count by the referee! They're trying to SCREW Stevens for the second week in a row!

DT: Both competitors are up ... Benjamin with a couple of right hands ... he sends Stevens to the ropes again ... attempts a backbody drop that countered with a kick to the face by the 2007 King of the Cage ... Trip moves in ... Benjamin hops on his shoulders ... HURRICARANA INTO A PIN! ONE! TWO! THR-- KICKOUT!

DM: I'm surprised how off guard the champ really is! Could it have something to do with that cast he's been forced to wear all week? Something, something just doesn seem right in there.

MN: It HAS to be the cast! That idiot Ice Tre has Stevens TOTALLY off his game! Too much pressure!

DT: Trip staggers to the corner, as Benjamin keeps on him with the pressure! Right hand! And, another! Another! Benjamin shoots Trip to the opposite turnbuckle, Stevens reverses, Benjamin crashes into the turnbuckle, his back in pain, Sean charges in, Benjamin with a boot to the face and again the champion is staggering!! Benjamin props himself up to the second rope ... Stevens charges back in ... Benjamin hooks his head ... SWINGING DDT!!

MN: NO! GET UP CHAMP! GET UP!

DM: Benjamin planted him good! One! Two! NOOO! STEVENS KICKED OUT! But, the end may be near, his neck has GOT to be killing him after that one!

DT: Both men are on there feet again, Benjamin nails the champ with three consecutive chops ...

[SFX: Wooooooooooooh!]

MN: Why are these idiots making Police Siren noises?!

DT: Nevermind. Benjamin swings Sean to the ropes again, he attempts another back body drop, Trip counters with another kick to the face, Benjamin staggers back, as Triple X charges with a clothesline sending the Englishman over the top rope, where the land isn't too pretty! The referee begins his count as the champion takes a moment to get a breather!

MN: That'a'boy Trip! Take your time. Slow things down.

DM: Not for long, as the champion heads to the outside at the ref's count of three.

DT: Triple X nails Benjamin, and begins to hammer him! What is he doing? OUCH! Stevens slammed Benjamin NECK FIRST onto the guardrail as fans continue to yell obscenities at our Champion!

DM: The referee broke his count to warn Stevens about using his surrounding in the manor in which he did! But, Stevens clutches his right arm, I'm telling you, he is in TREMENDOUS pain!

MN: So is Benjamin, he's gasping for air, he can barely breathe!

DT: Sean rolls into the ring, then back out, to break the referee's count ... Benjamin's on his feet, as the champion closes in and NAILS him with two VERY powerful LEFT HANDED chops! My God! You can hear the echo through the arena!!

DM: That sound IS sickening, but it's NOTHING like the feeling. That I know from personal experience.

MN: Please, you were bush league then and you're bush league now. You couldn't walk a mile in Triple X's shoes, so stop pretending like you were EVER anywhere NEAR his level!

DM: Did I ever tell you that you can go screw yourself?!

MN: Yeah, but screwing your wife appeals to me more...

DT: Kids, kids, let's do our job. Stevens rolls Benjamin back in the ring, as they both make it to their feet. Sean with two vicious right hands, sends Benjamin to the ropes, Adam comes back, Trip with a clothesline that Benjamin sees coming and ducks, Adam bounces off the other end of the ropes and runs right into a Cross Body Block! And, Adam Benjamin is down again!

MN: The tide has officially TURNED.

DM: Stevens with a cover ... ONE! TWO! Benjamin kicks out!

DT: Triple X positions Adam Benjamin in the corner, and begins to wail away at him! Benjamin stoops down, which isn't helping his cause any, Trip continues only with BRUTAL kicks to the face, the neck, and chest! And, why would he do this?! He's using the rope as leverage as he CHOKES the life out of Adam Benjamin with his boot! Referee you've GOTTA do something!

DM: Indeed he IS taking control of this match! He uses force to pull Stevens off of Benjamin to Sean's dismay! That referee is going to get his head knocked off! We've already seen tonight how Sean feels about the EPW officiating crew.

MN: And, it'd be rightfully so, too! You don't put your hands on a man the status of Sean Stevens... he's like the President around here!

DM: Please SHUT UP!

DT: Trip returns his focus to his opponent... but, Benjamin is on his feet! Two shots by the blue-blooded traditionalist only to be met with a Throat Thrust by the champion that sends him back to the mat! Trip -- with a handful of hair -- tosses Benjamin back outside of the ring! As the referee begins his count!

DM: Stevens is a PIT BULL! He's not going to rely on the referee to count him out! He's already out after Adam Benjamin!

DT: Stevens sends Benjamin crashing into the steel steps, and Adam Benjamin is on his back again! Stevens tosses Benjamin into the ring, as the refereee begins to argue with the Champion about keeping the action on the inside. Stevens loses sight of his opponent as Benjamin creeps to his feet, and charges the champion NAILING him with a sliding dropkick that sent him CRASHING into the referee!

DM: The referee is out! Stevens is out! And all Adam Benjamin needs to do is pin the champion and he has this match in the bag!

MN: Triple X isn't the World Champion for nothing. Just when you think he's down, or out, he plays a different card! This man is an eleven year veteran. Don't count him out just because Benjamin suddenly has the upper hand.

DM: You are SUCH a mark!

DT: Adam Benjamin rolls Stevens inside of the ring, as the blue-eyed badass crawls for distance. Adam closes in, pulling the champ up by his hair ... he hooks him up by the head ... INVERTED DDT! Stevens landed on the back of his head and this move could have him unconcious! Benjamin with the cover!!

ONE!

TWO!!


THRREEEE--- NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

MN: C'mon Sean! You can DO THIS!

DT: Benjamin is up, I think he's preparing to finish the champion off! Stevens is slowly staggering to his feet--

[SUDDENLY, the arena's lights go out -- completely, at first, only to slowly turn into a flicker simultaneously with the Thunder and Lightning display on the EMPIRE-tron.]

DM: What in the HELL happened?!

DT: Ladies and Gentlemen, we are experiencing a power outage, we sincerely apologize for any inconvenience, I'm sure the workers in the back are solving the problem as we speak....

MN: ..... WHO TOUCHED MY LEG?!? SOMEBODY TOUCHED MY LEG!!

DT: Nevermind that, look at what's going on inside of the ring, from the little that we can see!

[As the EMPIRE-tron flickers on and off, little glimpses can be seen, while the rumbling of carcass hitting the mat can be heard. A figure is seen in the ring attacking one of the competitors inside of the ring, but the darkness prevents you from actually seeing it.]

MN: Dean ... hold me!

DM: Kiss off!

[SUDDENLY, just as they went off, the lights in the arena come back on, however, the only two individuals in the ring are the two that started there -- Stevens and Benjamin, with Adam Benjamin now out cold.]

DT: Folks, I can't tell you exactly what just happened, all I know is, before the power went out, Adam Benjamin was firmly in control of things, and looked as if he could have put the champion Sean Stevens away. Now, he's out cold in the center of the ring, with the champ slowly inching over to his body for the cover.

MN: You're not suggesting that Triple X had anything to do with this, are you? Because that's just WRONG.

DT: I'm not suggesting anything, it's just rather CONVENIENT wouldn't you say?

DM: Anything is possible, and anything can happen, but right now, the champion is taking advantage of whatever just happened, by draping his arm over Adam Benjamin's prone body for the win.

DT: The referee -- who was out cold for a couple of minutes seems to be coming along. He crawls over to the two athletes.

..................... ONE!



.................... TWO!!!!




..............THREE!!!!!

DM: NO! BENJAMIN KICKED OUT! BENJAMIN KICKED OUT!

DT: And, Sean Stevens is LIVID! The champion is on his feet, and he's signaling for the end. Benjamin is a bit loopy and rightfully so, he took a beating while the lights were out in the arena by God knows Who! Triple X is posturing in the corner ... Benjamin is on his feet ... Sean moves in aaaaaaaaaaannnnnnnnnnndddddddd CONNECTS!

MN: X marks the spot, baby! It works everytime!

DT: Sean Stevens just took Adam Benjamin's head off with his patented superkick -- the X-Factor -- and, it's academic. The referee drops down ... ONE! .....TWO!! TTTTTTHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! The champion's done it! Sean Stevens beat a MORE than game Adam Benjamin!

DM: Wow, what a contest, what a MAIN EVENT!

ANNOUNCER: The winner of the match, the EPW World Heavyweight Champion, SEAN "TRRRRIIIIIIPPPPPPPPLLLLLLEEEE ECCCCCKKKS" STEVENS!!!!!!!

[The referee hands Trip his EPW World Championship, as Stevens tries to climb the turnbuckle with his one good hand, as the lights dim -- yet again.]

MN: Okay now, this is getting REAL old!

[Suddenly, a strobe of light leads us up the entrance ramp, onto the stage as EPW superstar The Stalker steps through the curtain, and his theme begins to blare over the PA system.]

DT: Could it be?! Was it the Stalker who aided Triple X to victory tonight?!!?

DM: Unbelievable! We all saw that they had a conversation earlier today but no one could've guessed this alliance would start so soon!

MN: This HAS to be a Stalker ploy ... this reaks of Jason Reeves.

DT: Ladies and Gentlemen, we need answers, just like I'm sure you want them, however, not tonight! Thank you for tuning in to another EPW Aggression, we'll see you next week!