Aggression 5 - Atlanta, GA - 3/30/04

[DBrunkGXW]

[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: Christian Sands hitting the Sand Blaster on an unknown opponent.

CUT TO: Karl Brown nailing someone with the Dragon's Bite.

CUT TO: Jonathan Marx slapping an intense STF on an unknown individual.

CUT TO: Adam Benjamin knocking the absolute bejesus out of an opponent with a shining wizard.

CUT TO: The Crimson Calling destroying their opponent with a Crimson Crasher.

CUT TO: Beast delivering a high impact Tiger Driver '91 to an unnamed man.

CUT TO: Dan Ryan, an evil grin on his face, stomping his massive frame towards the camera.

CUTTO: With a clash of metal, a logo slams across the screen, its edges flickering.]





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[Cut to the ramp, where a wreath of pyro explodes around the EmpireTron and several bomblike, smoky explosions ripple about the entry way. The camera zooms in on the screen as the pyro finally peters out, then blurs to roving shots of the crowd as a small banner in the corner briefly appears to proclaim that EPW is broadcast en Espanol. Various signs are visible in the crowd: "Beast Got Screwed!", "We'll Miss Rocko", "TITLE OR NO TITLE, CHRISTIAN SANDS STILL SUCKS!", "Who's This Cruise Guy?", "FUTURE WORLD CHAMPION IS TROY DOUGLAS!", "We Are Subjects Of Emperor Marx", "Benji Claus", and finally, "DAN RYAN WILL EAT YOUR BABIES".]

[Cut to ringside, where Dave Thomas and Mike Neely sit, garbed in their EPW polo shirts. Neely wears an oversized Cat-In-The-Hat cap, some oversized gold chains, and a pair of goofy star-shaped shades.]

DT: Atlanta, Georgia is already way too excited here tonight! Welcome, everybody, to Empire Pro Wrestling's Aggression! As always, I'm Dave Thomas, and - Mike Neely, what the heck are you WEARING?!

MN: Yo, dawg. I picked this shiznit up in the hood, yo.

DT: Mike, you're the whitest whitey I've ever seen. Stop being such a poser.

MN: Nah, crippla. I'm down.

DT: Oy. Anyway, folks, we're coming to you hot on the heels of Empire Pro's first Pay-Per-View event, Black Dawn!

MN: Aw dag, yo. That show was the shiznit!

DT: Yes, it certainly was...

[Cut to: A black screen. "Shadow On The Sun" by Audioslave plays in the background as a throbbing image of a DVD case appears.]

DT (v/o): ...and now, you can relive the event from the comfort of your own living room, because Empire Pro Wrestling's Black Dawn is now out on DVD and video! Relive epic matches like Sands vs. Beast and the fatal four way match for two number-one contenderships! Available now wherever fine videos are sold!

[Cut back to ringside as the music fades out.]

MN: I'm buying that thing, man.

DT: Of course you are.

MN: But only because Lindsay Troy made an appearance. YOWZA! She's a frickin' FOX, man. I bet she could peel chrome off a bumper-

DT: MIKE! FAMILY SHOW!!!

MN: What? Anyone can peel chrome off a bumper - with Chrome-B-Gone! Buy it at your local hardware store!

DT: Who did I offend to find myself saddled with you?

MN: Nobody. I'm a blessing in disguise. You can't resist my charms, Wendy's Man.

DT: Yeah, right. In any case, folks, we've got a momentous evening ahead of us tonight! Not only do we have some great matches slated to go down, EPW owner Dan Ryan has let it be known backstage that he's going to be shaking things up tonight in a big way!

MN: Wonder what the Hulk's got in mind?

DT: We'll just have to wait and see. In the meantime, let's head to the ring for our first match of the evening!



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Second Coming vs. The Assassins​

TONY FATORA: Th' following tag-team contest is scheduled for one fall!

[Lights go out and strobe effects start with the opening riff of "Zero" with the "EB" Ego Buster symbol flashing across the screen. Dan Ryan walks to the ring casually as the music plays. The fans offer a confused mixed reaction.]

DT: Uh... Folks, this is supposed to be a match between the Assassins and Second Coming, but apparently Dan Ryan's decided to make an appearance instead!

MN: Is he gonna wrestle? I thought he wasn't gonna do that.

[Ryan waits for the crowd to die down before taking the mic from Tony Fatora.]

RYAN: I'll cut to the chase. Some of you have heard that I'm going to shake things up tonight. You've heard right. Tonight, I'm going to take a good long look at the roster - and anyone who I feel isn't pulling their weight around here will be fired.

Speaking of dead weight - it seems the Assassins decided not to show up at the arena tonight for their match. So, guess what, Orion and Osiris? Hop in the bread line, because you two are out of a job. As for the Second Coming - I'm not too impressed with you guys, either, seeing as you failed to promote this match. SHAPE UP!, or you're going to meet the same fate as the Assassins in the near future. And yes, this match is cancelled. There's no room on my card for dead weight.

That's all for now, but you'll be hearing from me again later tonight.

["Zero" hits again as Ryan drops the mic and strolls to the back.]



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DT: It seems Dan Ryan's really laying down the law! The Assassins are now GONE from EPW, and it looks as if Second Coming have landed on Ryan's bad side!

MN: I'm just waiting for Hulk to be all like, "YOU'RRRRRRRRRRRRE FIIIIIIIIIIIRED!"

DT: Mm, I think that's copyrighted.

MN: By who?

DT: Some little indy fed.

MN: Bleh. Indies need to get the F out.

DT: True, true. In any case, we need to cut to a commercial, but don't go away, because we'll be RIGHT back!

 

[DBrunkGXW]

DT: We're back!
MN: Speak for yourself. I'm side.

DT: *sigh* Folks, this next match is the third in a series of contests between two young lions! On one hand, we have Kevin Watson, and on the other hand, the... unorthodox young man known as John Doe!

MN: This Doe guy's a maniac. I heard he killed someone and got thrown in the looney bin. I guess he calls himself John Doe because he has amnesia or something and can't remember his real name.

DT: Regardless of his past, he's still an interesting character to say the very least. What say we go to the ring?



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No Holds Barred
John Doe vs. Kevin "K9" Watson​

[Cue up: Long Way Home by Super Tramp. Kevin enters the ramp way with a nonchalant swagger. A towel covers his face from site, while his head hangs low. He takes his time making his way down to the ring. He slides into the ring and readies himself for the match.]

DT: Folks, Watson and Doe had a tough cage match at Black Dawn, but since both ended up hitting the floor at the same time, they’re going to settle the score tonight.

MN: You mean Doe hopes to settle the score? So far, Watson’s got the only victory in two matches.

DT: Yes, but this is a no holds barred match, so who knows what’s going to happen.

[Cue up: (SiC) by Slipknot. Doe rushes to the ring, sliding under the bottom rope and rushing at Watson, flooring him with several clotheslines as the referee asks for the bell to start the match]

DT: And Doe coming out quickly here, he’s looking fired up for this one.

MN: You’d be if you’d been left coughing up blood at Black Dawn.

[Watson escapes to the outside, but Doe follows him, connecting with a kick to the gut and four stiff chops, the crowd not so much WOOing as cringing. Doe then sends Watson back under the bottom rope, following him. Watson runs the ropes, hitting a shoulder block, before running the ropes again. Doe rises quickly behind him, and catches him with a hurricanrana. Doe floats over, pulling Watson off the mat, kicking him in the gut, and setting up for a powerbomb]

DT: And Watson’s in REAL trouble as Doe just piles on the offence. Doe is determined not to go three matches without a win against him, and he’s been unrelenting this match.

MN: Looks like the end could be near for Watson if he doesn’t fight back soon.

DT: The cover off the powerbomb…only a two count.

[Doe, rather than letting it get to him, instead pulls Watson off the mat, whipping him to the corner, and following in with a splash. He then whips him to the far ropes, running the near ropes himself]

DT: Big splash there….AMNESIA ATTACK!!!

MN: OUCH!!!

DT: One,

Two…..

THREE!! JOHN DOE WINS IT!!!

[SFX: *DINGDINGDING* - Bell rings]



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MN: Doe sure gets some revenge for that defeat he suffered a while back, and in style. Man, that attack looks painful.

DT: Yeah. Maybe we should ask Doe to show you how painful?

MN: [agitated] No, no, no, no, no, I’m fine as I am.

DT: Either way, I think that was probably the shortest match in EPW history, as Doe put Watson away in something like a minute.

MN: He was fired up, I guess.

DT: Well, since we're moving at a good clip in terms of match times, let's head right to the next contest of the evening, shall we?

MN: Why not? I could use a good bout of heckling.

DT: You'd have to be living under a rock to have not heard of British youngster Karl Brown, a young man who's been taking the wrestling world by storm recently. Tonight, he meets Derek Shultz in the ring-

MN: I think it's Smaltz.

DT: Come to think of it, I think it's Stantz.

MN: Lemme check... Oh, it's Stoltz.

DT: Ohhhhhhh. I knew it had an S and a T-Z, but-

MN: I know.

DT: Let's head to the ring.



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Karl Brown vs. Derek Stoltz​

TONY FATORA: Th' following contest is scheduled for one fall!

[The arena is bathed in darkness seconds before "Rainmaker" blares out, causing a cascade of green and white lights to flicker across the arena in time to the music and pyro to explode from the side of the stage. With the first words, Karl steps through the curtains, looking around at the crowd. He high-fives fans either side of the aisle, stopping for autographs along the way, as he walks to the ring. Circles the ring once, then vaults over the top rope, standing on the second rope, arms aloft, saluting the fans on each side of the ring, before waiting in the centre of the ring for his opponent.]

TONY FATORA: Introducing first... He is from Nottingham, England... He weighs in at two hundred and eleven pounds... This issss KARRRRRRRRRRRL... THE DRRRRRRAGOOOONNN... BRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWNNNNNNNN!!!

[Cue up: "Licking Cream" - Sevendust as Derek Stoltz walks to the ring. The crowd is completely dead.]

TONY FATORA: And introducing his opponent... He hails from Syracuse, New York... He weighs two hundred and thirty pounds... DEREEEEEEEEEEEEK... STOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOLTZ!!!

[SFX: *DINGDINGDING* - Bell rings.]

[Brown patiently awaits Stoltz's first move. Stoltz gives it to him - he comes in swinging with a clothesline, but Brown casually ducks it. Raging, Stoltz rushes him again and tries a flying forearm, only for Brown to sidestep with ease.]

DT: Oh, Karl Brown's easily avoiding Derek Stoltz's attacks!

MN: Playin' a little possum, he is.

[With a yell of frustration, Stoltz barrels at Brown, looking for a spear; however, Karl steps forward and kicks the other man in the teeth. Stoltz flips over Karl's leg from the impact and lands on the canvas, bleeding from his nose. Cool as a cucumber, Brown picks Stoltz up and drops him on his face with a flapjack.]

DT: Oh my! Stoltz is busted open already, courtesy of that brutal knee from Karl Brown - made even more brutal by Stoltz' velocity at the point of impact!

MN: Thank you, Senor Physics.

[As Stoltz stumbles to his feet, Brown hooks him up and drops him to the mat with a face plant. He quickly cradles Stoltz's head and brings him to his feet again. In desperation, Stoltz hits a jawbreaker. A stunned Brown is knocked backwards a few steps, allowing Stoltz to fire off a superkick, but Brown catches it, spins Stoltz around, and back-suplexes him.]

DT: There's a hard back suplex from the Dragon, as he's taking it to Derek Stoltz in a big way!

MN: He's controlling him big time, man.

[Stumbling to his feet, Stoltz wipes blood from his upper lip. Meanwhile, an attractive young lady in the front row stands up and waves a huge "KARL BROWN IS SUCH A HOTTIE" sign, squealing with glee. Brown leans on the ropes and acknowledges her with a wave.]

DT: Looks like Brown's taking a moment to play to the fans, but it could cost him!

[Stoltz notices Karl's distraction and stumps towards him; however, Karl flicks a look over his shoulder, then boosts himself onto the top rope and springboards off into a backflip, coming down to fluidly snap Stoltz into an inverted facelock. Raising a hand to the crowd, Brown casually drills Stoltz with the Dragon's Bite and rolls over for the cover!]

DT: WAIT!!! QUEBRADA!!! QUEBRADA INTO THE DRAGON'S BITE!!! COVER!!!

ONE!!

TWO!!!

THREE!!!

[SFX: *DINGDINGDING* - Bell rings.]

TONY FATORA: Here is your winner... KARRRRRRRRRRLLLLLLL... BRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOWNNNNNN!!!



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DT: An impressive and convincing win here from Karl Brown, as he continues to shine here in EPW!

MN: And with that quebrada into the Dragon's Bite, too! He pulled that off at Black Dawn, and it worked like a charm here too!

DT: That's definitely an impressive sequence, and one that many opponents wouldn't expect.

MN: Brown rocks, plain and simple. That guy's gonna be World Champion one day.

DT: It's possible. But don't go away, folks - we've got more action just ahead!

MN: Aw sheeit, yo!

 

[DBrunkGXW]

[Cut to: Paul Freeman's office. The man himself sits quietly behind his desk, his hands clasped in front of him. On the desk is a stack of papers.]

FREEMAN: I apologize for interrupting the show, ladies and gentlemen, but I have announcement to make. At Black Dawn, Nate "Zero" Logan made his debut, attacking Empire Pro World Champion Christian Sands in the process. Dan Ryan and I have both discussed this extensively, and we have come to the conclusion that a loose cannon like Zero is a hazard to the security of Empire Pro Wrestling, and his history of drug abuse puts his judgment into question. Therefore, I have no choice but to suspend Nate Logan for a minimum of one month. If after that time his conduct has improved, the suspension will be lifted.

Again, I apologize for this unfortunate occurrence, but Mr. Ryan and I both feel that this action is the best possible course of action for EPW. Now, let's get on with the broadcast. Enjoy the show, everyone.

[Freeman flashes the camera a light smile before the shot cuts away to ringside.]



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DT: I can't believe this! In the door, out the door - Zero's GONE!

MN: That's what he gets for jumping the World Champion, Dave! If he's gonna try and start crap on his first day of work, he doesn't belong here!

DT: Oh, please. You and I both know that Christian Sands was provoking him.

MN: Hey, don't knock the champ, kid!

DT: I'm not a kid - and before you even answer, let's go to the next match, shall we?

MN: Don't change the-

DT: This next match has the potential to be very interesting, as two up-and-comers in Michael Gettis and Brien Cage face off in the squared circle. Let's go to the ring.



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"Big Time" Michael Gettis vs. "Silent Assassin" Brien Cage​

[The two men are already in the ring, having arrived during the commercial. SFX: *DINGDINGDING* - bell rings.]

[Gettis and Cage lock up, surrounded by the complete, utter, total, cricket-chirping silence of a crowd so disinterested, Gettis and Cage could dance the Macarena while juggling flaming chainsaws and they STILL wouldn't care.]

DT: Uh... this is certainly an interesting crowd reaction as these two titans lock up.

MN: *snore*

[The lock-up continues for awhile before Cage snaps Gettis into a headlock. And he holds him there for a while. For a long while, in fact. Finally, Gettis tries to power out, but Cage slugs him and keeps the headlock on. Somewhere at the back of the arena, a chant starts up: "BO-RING! BO-RING! BO-RING!"]

DT: Cage really working in that headlock there!

MN: *snore*

DT: And, uh, folks, don't mind the chants. I guess some people can't appreciate old-school wrestling.

[After what seems like an eternity, Gettis backs into the ropes and slingshots out of the headlock, coming back to deck Cage with a shoulder block. He drops to the canvas and applies a front facelock. A louder chant starts up: "THIS MATCH SUCKS!!! THIS MATCH SUCKS!!! THIS MATCH SUCKS!!!"]

DT: Uh... Oh, what the heck. Folks, I'm sorry. We had no idea it would be this bad.

MN: Shame on us. This is terrible.

[Gettis continues to work in the facelock as the crowd chants, "BO-RING MATCH! BO-RING MATCH!"]

[Cue up: "Zero" - Smashing Pumpkins, and the crowd immediately comes alive, popping like zits as Dan Ryan strolls down the ramp. The big man rolls into the ring, grabs Gettis by the trunks, pulls him off of Cage, and thunders him to the mat with a belly-to-belly suplex! The crowd roars in approval, mostly out of relief that Ryan finally ended the bad match. Cage stumbles to his feet, and Ryan calmly kicks him in the face, knocking him to the outside!]

DT: IT'S DAN RYAN!!! THE OWNER OF THE COMPANY IS HERE - AND HE'S BEATING THE LIVING HELL OUT OF MIKE GETTIS AND BRIEN CAGE!!!

MN: YES!!! HE ENDED THE BORING MATCH!!!

[Grunting, Ryan grabs Gettis and stuffs him into a standing headscissors, hauling him effortlessly onto his shoulders before DRILLING him with a Humility Bomb! Without hesitation, the Ego Buster pulls Gettis up again, delivering ANOTHER huge Humility Bomb! But he doesn't stop there - a THIRD Humility Bomb OBLITERATES Gettis, nearly blasting him through the mat! Cage rolls into the ring to try and fight Ryan off, but Ryan just slugs him and Humility Bombs him without changing expression.]

DT: MY GOD!!! DAN RYAN HAS DESTROYED GETTIS AND CAGE!!! BUT WHY?!?!

MN: He's cutting the dead weight!

[With both men laid out in the ring, Ryan sniffs, then turns and exits the ring, cheered on by the suddenly rejuvenated crowd!]



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DT: I can't believe this! We were supposed to see a match, but Dan Ryan has destroyed both of the competitors!

MN: How much ya wanna bet they're both fired?

DT: Hold on... I'm getting word from the back that Michael Gettis has indeed been fired!

MN: What about Cage?

DT: From what Mr. Freeman is saying, Ryan's giving Cage one last chance to get his act together. If he can't do it, he's gone too.

MN: DAAAAAMN!! Ryan's layin' down the law, man!

DT: Well, he said he was cutting the dead weight, and Gettis has definitely been dead weight. He hasn't bothered to cut a single promotional spot.

MN: Loser.

DT: I concur.



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[CUTTO: A corridor backstage. The crowd pops HUGE as the camera catches Lindsay Troy walking down the hall. She stops in front of a vending machine and checks out the selection.]

TROY: Ugh. Pepsi products.

[After a moment, Troy pops a few coins into the machine, and pushes a button. Nothing happens. She pushes the button again. This time, there's a whirring sound, but nothing comes out. Troy scowls before backing up and kicking the machine HARD. Finally a bottle of Aquafina emerges, which she grabs. As she straightens, a door across from the vending machine opens. Troy turns at the sound, and locks eyes with Christian Sands. The crowd boos at his appearance.]

SANDS (gruffly): Lindsay.

TROY (cooly): Christian.

SANDS: Nothin' like Pepsi products, huh? Great quality.

TROY (sarcastically): Yeah, just like my present company.

[She twists off the cap and takes a swig of the water]

SANDS: (ignoring the sarcasm) I know, I'm wonderful. You know, you left your shoes under my bed last night, Lindsay.

TROY: Oh did I really?! You must have been reaching for them when you suddenly woke up and realized it was all a dream.

SANDS: Nope, they're real shoes. You left the panties behind, too, but I'll keep those. Hang 'em on my wall.

TROY: Mmmm you would only be so lucky, Christian. I guess you can call anyone my name if you scream it loud enough in the throes of passion. Jenna can become Lindsay real quick with a slip of the tongue.

SANDS: You'd like me to slip you some tongue, wouldn't you? (Holding up a hand) Alright, enough banter. I have a favor to ask of you.

TROY: Why Mister Sands, I do declare. (She mock bows) Asking something of someone else for a change? (A smirk) And what do I owe the honor of being the person of which you ask this favor?

SANDS: Don't sass at me, young lady, or I'll take you over my knee and spank you.

TROY: That's kinky, but I'm not into S&M. Sorry.

SANDS: (sarcastically) Damn, so I bought you that dominatrix outfit for nothing. (Not-sarcastically.) But in all seriousness. I need you to give Beast a message for me.

TROY: Alright. Shoot.

SANDS: Tell him that he's earned my respect after Black Dawn. And tell him that if he's ever got a hankering for a rematch, I'll put the belt on the line and take him on - any time, anywhere.

[Troy raises an eyebrow, and takes another swig of water.]

TROY: Well. This is certainly a shock. I lost a bet.

SANDS: I'm serious. Just give him the message.

TROY: I'm serious too. I bet Ryan fifty bucks that you didn't care about anyone but yourself. Nice to know that I was proven wrong on some level. (Winks)

I'll give him the message, Christian. Just make sure you hang onto that belt so Marcus can take it from you. The genius you're facing tonight...doesn't cut it in my book.

SANDS: Oh, I care about a few other people. And the genius I'm facing tonight isn't one of them. Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be polishing this title and admiring my face in it.

[Sands turns and steps back towards his door.]

TROY: For what it's worth, Christian...

SANDS: Eh?

TROY: Nice Canadian choice of words. (She snickers) Completely on the level, though...you did good at the PPV. Take that at face value.

[Troy turns and walks off. Sands squints after her, then lifts an eyebrow as she turns a corner, out of earshot. He mulls over what she just said before smirking.]

SANDS: You know, Christian... that Lindsay Troy is one fine piece of ass.

[With that, Sands turns to slip back into his locker room, but a voice down the hall suddenly rings out.]

???: Hey, Sands!

[Muttering something to himself, Sands turns to face the voice - only to wind up floored as Beast charges down the hall at top speed and spears Sands practically out of his boots to a HUGE crowd pop! As Sands lies sprawled on the floor, Beast looks down at him for a moment, then sniffs and strolls off down the hall, whistling casually to himself as if nothing had happened.]



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DT: I can't believe this! Beast has just thrown down the gauntlet to Christian Sands!

MN: Someone call security! He shouldn't be allowed to do that!

DT: In all fairness, Mike, I think Sands had it coming.

MN: Don't give me that! That's our champion he just speared! Some way to repay the champ's gratitude, huh? Sands went out of his way to offer that guy a rematch, and Beast spears him like the ingrate he is!

DT: Well, either way, it seems the issue between Sands and Beast is far from over. But for now, we've got to go to a commercial - and when we come back, we'll have another match for you!

MN: Hopefully not another squash...

DT: Trust me, it won't be. We'll be right back!

 

[DBrunkGXW]

DT: Welcome back to Aggression, everybody! I think we should take a moment to apologize to you for the lackluster ring action we've seen thus far.
MN: Every match has been either a squash or a no-contest. We're sorry.

DT: Fortunately, these next few matches will make it all up to you - starting with this very next contest, in which we'll meet the newest addition to Empire Pro's roster!

MN: Oh, that Stevie Tango guy?

DT: Stephen Waltz, actually. If you haven't heard of Stephen Waltz yet, you're in for a treat. This young man has been making a huge splash in the wrestling world, holding the GXW Television Title longer than virtually anyone in that promotion's history short of Nate Logan.

MN: And with a grizzled veteran like Terry Anderson in his corner, he can't go wrong!

DT: You never know. He's facing some stiff opposition in Tyrone Walker, a man who's made major waves in Empire Pro.

MN: Walker's a badass, man. That guy's an innovator, and he won't take sh(FCC) from anyone.

DT: *ahem* Family show.

MN: Ah, the boys in the truck will beep it out. We're on seven-second tape delay, remember?

DT: Don't sass at me, Neely. Let's go to the ring.



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Tyrone Walker vs. Stephen Waltz (w/Terry "The Idol" Anderson)​

TONY FATORA: Th' following contest is scheduled for one fall!

[The lights dim as the voice of Jamie Madrox booms over the PA and the beats kick in beginning Twiztid's "Where It's Goin Down." A single spot light shining down at the entrance way shows Tyrone Walker walking from behind the curtains and to the edge of the entrance way where he stops to scan the building, taking in the entire view for a moment. As the moment passes he turns his attention back to the ring and begins to casually stride to the ring making sure to take his time before he reaches the ringside area. Taking a few quick steps he leaps from the floor to the ring and hurls himself over the top rope and landing on his feet. Taking a few steps into the ring he shuffles over to the farside corner and leans casually into the turnbuckles as he waits...]

TONY FATORA: Introducing first, from the mean streets of Detroit, Michigan... He weighs in at two hundred and thirty pounds... This issss TYYYYYYYROOOOOOOONNNNE WAAAAAAALKEEEEEEEERRRRRRRR!!!

[At the sound of the impactful "One Armed Man (Play On)" by Project 86, the stage becomes the origin of a spectacular laser light show of blue and white shades of color. From the entrance, Terry "The Idol" Anderson steps into the spotlight, meeting the crowd with a stern pose, flexing the muscles hidden under his leisure suit. Coming to his side is the young newcomer, Stephen Waltz, who steps into the light and looks around with his arms on his waist.]

[The face of the young Waltz looks excited, and eager to be in the ring. His manager, Anderson, flashes him a thumbs up, and does a little dance with the music. Stephen shows him the smile, returns the gesture, and starts down the ramp. Along the way, both men high five several members of the audience stretched over the barricade.]

[At the ring, Stephen slides in under the ropes. Terry goes up to the apron. As Waltz comes back to his feet, his manager calls him to the corner, where he's given words of encouragement from the veteran, Terry Anderson. With a proud slap on his shoulder, Terry gives him another smile, and goes down to ringside. After some stretches to get himself prepared, Stephen Waltz kneels into the corner and says a little prayer before getting ready to fight.]

TONY FATORA: And making his Empire Pro Wrestling debut... He is from Kokomo, Indiana... He weighs two hundred and forty-four pounds and is accompanied by Terry "The Idol" Anderson... He isss SSSSSSSTEPPPPPPPPPPHENNNNNN... WAAAAAAAAAAAAAALTZ!!!

[SFX: *DINGDINGDING* - Bell rings.]

[Waltz and Walker briefly circle before shooting in for a collar-and-elbow tie-up. Waltz rolls Walker to the mat with a textbook headlock takeover, but Walker matrixes out and takes Waltz down with a leg clip. Rapidly, Waltz rolls onto his back and brings Walker to the canvas with a drop toe hold, looking for a side headlock; he gets it and wrenches it in.]

DT: There's a little chain wrestling from Waltz, the accomplished college athlete!

MN: You can tell the kid's eager to be out there.

[Grunting, Walker heaves himself to his feet with Waltz still latched onto him, scooping him up for a back suplex, but Waltz floats through and comes down to snap a sleeper on the other man. Walker immediately drops to a sitting position, holding Waltz's head in his hands; the result is a reverse jawbreaker that stuns Waltz. As the Kokomo native stumbles back, Walker rolls to his feet and dropkicks him in the face, knocking him down.]

DT: Great elevation on that dropkick from Walker, as he's looking to take the advantage in the early going!

MN: When's he gonna bust out the Luke Skywalker, man?

DT: It's called the SKY-Walker.

MN: ...Ohhhhhh. So it's ANAKIN Skywalker.

DT: *sigh*

[Encouraged by the rooting of Terry Anderson, Waltz kips to his feet - but goes down again as Walker decks him with a spinning kick. Again Waltz rises, and Walker swings at him with a clothesline; however, Waltz quickly ducks, slipping behind Walker to take him down with a hard German suplex. Holding his head, Walker rises to his feet, only for Waltz to spear him down with authority.]

DT: Big spear by Waltz! Looks like that football background of his is coming into play.

MN: Man, the kid hits like a linebacker!

[Grabbing Walker by the tights, Waltz drags him to his feet and delivers a crisp gutwrench suplex. A reeling Walker rolls to the bottom rope to escape, but Waltz pursues him, picking away at his back and ribs with hard stomps before reeling him in and delivering a hard belly-to-belly!]

DT: Belly-to-belly from Stephen Waltz! Looks like the momentum has shifted to the newcomer!

MN: This is definitely Walker's toughest match yet. Virtually every other match he's had, he's put the other guys away without a whole lot of fuss.

[Waltz is no dummy; he immediately capitalizes by moving in to scoop Walker up, dropping him across his knee with a pendulum backbreaker. Walker collapses to the mat. A faintly-smiling Waltz cradles Walker's head and picks him up, but Walker recovers and sweeps the other man down with a rough DDT. Waltz's head is spiked off the canvas, and he flips over onto his back before rolling out of the ring, where he lands in a heap on the floor. Terry Anderson rushes over to help his client up.]

DT: Ouch, Walker with a DDT!

MN: Waltz has GOT to be seeing stars after that one!

[Spying Waltz and Anderson on the outside, Walker smirks, then cartwheels to the opposite ropes, rebounding to backflip smoothly out over the top rope and land squarely on both Anderson and Waltz! The crowd pops HUGE, and a "Ho-ly sh*t! Ho-ly sh*t!" chant starts up.]

DT: SPACE FLYING TIGER DROP!!!

MN: HOLY SH(FCC)!!!

DT: What an AMAZING move by Tyrone Walker, taking out both Waltz and Anderson with one move!

[As the crowd continues to roar, Walker grabs Waltz by the head and smashes his face off the ring barricade, then grabs him by the arm and Irish-whips him into the ring steps! Waltz slams into the steps and goes tumbling over them to land in a heap at the foot of the entrance ramp. Walker rolls back into the ring to avoid the ten count, then immediately hits the ropes and springboards out at a now-standing (albeit unsteady) Waltz with a senton that connects squarely!]

DT: TOPE ATOMICO SUICIDA!!! Walker is INSANE! He's busting out high-risk moves a mile a minute!

MN: And it's paying off! Waltz is off-balance! Walker's hitting him so fast, he doesn't know WHAT to do!

[Walker doesn't relent for an instant. He grabs Waltz by the neck and whips him face first into the ring post, nearly knocking the young man senseless! Callously, Walker rolls Waltz into the ring, then slingshots back into the squared circle to drop across Waltz with a leg drop, covering.]

DT: Oh, slingshot legdrop back in for Walker! The cover!

One -

TWO -

Waltz kicks out!

MN: Walker's still got some work to do, I guess.

[Not wasting a moment, Walker picks Waltz up by the neck, Irish-whipping him into the ropes and catching him on the way back with a rolling heel kick that fells the other man like a tree. Walker promptly drags Waltz to his feet again and whips him into a corner, charging in for a jumping clothesline. However, 'tis not to be; Waltz sees him coming and sidesteps, causing Walker's face to hit the top turnbuckle. Walker's chin snaps back, and he topples backwards out of the corner - straight into a MAN-SIZED half-nelson suplex from Stephen Waltz!]

DT: OUCH! HUGE half-nelson suplex there, as Waltz takes advantage of a missed maneuver from Walker!

MN: That thing was brutal! He dropped Walker right on his head!

[Holding the back of his neck with his left hand, Walker rises to his feet, only for Waltz to move in and snap him to the canvas with a quick suplex. Waltz holds on and scores with a second snap suplex before bringing Walker up for a full-out vertical suplex, which connects with more impact than the previous two snap suplexes. From there, Waltz floats over into a cover.]

DT: Pinning predicament off the series of suplexes!

One -

TWO -

Walker gets the shoulder up!

MN: Close one! Waltz is taking it to him in there!

[With a light huff, Waltz brings Walker up with a front facelock applied, then brings him up as if for a suplex, only to drop him on his face and chest with a modified facebuster! From there, the former college football player drops a leg across the back of Walker's neck, then picks him up and whips him into the ropes, nearly beheading him on the rebound with a hard lariat!]

DT: Huge lariat from Waltz!

MN: I think Walker did a 360 thanks to THAT one!

[Waltz moves in quickly and stuffs Walker into a standing headscissors, signalling to the crowd that it's time for the Last Waltz - his patented inverted powerbomb. However, Walker grabs Waltz by the legs and pushes himself up, back body dropping Waltz over the top rope! Without even thinking, Walker slingshots himself to the outside to drop down onto Waltz with a body press, catching Terry Anderson with one foot as he comes down!]

DT: LAST WALTZ - NO, WALKER BACKDROPS WALTZ OUT! And now the SUICIDE BODY PRESS!!!

MN: Walker's a MANIAC!

DT: And he caught Anderson with that one, too!

MN: Again?!

[Both men roll slowly back into the ring, coming to their feet. Waltz throws a punch, but Walker blocks and punches Waltz in the mouth. Waltz retaliates with a hard chop, only for Walker to punch him back. However, a figure suddenly jumps out of the crowd and over the barricade, rushing into the ring to clobber Waltz with a clothesline in plain view of the referee! Immediately, the zebra-shirted official signals to the timekeeper. SFX: *DINGDINGDING* - Bell rings!]

DT: ...What just HAPPENED?

MN: Someone took out Stephen Waltz!

DT: But why? The match was perfectly even! Neither man had an advantage! It's not as if he was saving Walker or anything!

MN: Who IS he, anyway?

[A furious Tyrone Walker looks down at the recovering Waltz, then over at the newcomer. The unknown man flashes Walker a wink and a smirk before slipping out of the ring and strolling to the back.]

TONY FATORA: Ladies and gentlemen... Your winner by a disqualification... STEPPPPPPPPPHENNNNNNN... WAAAAAAAAAAALTZ!!!



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DT: I don't understand this at all! The match was going perfectly fine until this stranger attacked Stephen Waltz for no reason!

MN: Whoever he is, it looked like Walker recognized him.

DT: Hold on... I'm getting word from the back that the mysterious newcomer is named Eric Dane!

MN: I think I've heard of him...

DT: We've got to go to a commercial, but we'll be back in short order! Don't go away!

 

[DBrunkGXW]

[Cut to one of the lockerrooms.]
[This is where we find Tyrone Walker. He's pissed by the way.]

SLAAMMM!!!

[With the door now shut we have ourselves a bit of a standoff. The room and it's contents are of no concern except for the other man who stands across the room from Walker and goes by the name of 'The Only Star' Eric Dane.]

Walker: What the #&%@ dude?!?

[Backing off absolutely none, the newly debuted Dane cracks a smile that you'll grow to know and loathe before giving his explanation.]

Dane: Back off, hotshot, you'd have probably figured out a good way to lose that one anyway.

Walker: (grumble)

[Deadly silence is all Walker can muster as his mind tries to decipher what exactly has just happened.]

Dane: You need to take a good long look at what you're even doing in this business, Ty, because as it stands you're not accomplishing a damned thing other than a weekly paycheck!

[Walker blinks. The fire inside him subsiding a bit as the commentary from Dane hits a button. It hurt a little, it was the truth of course. Walker's head droops a little as he stares down at the floor trying to think of something to say in order to counter point.]

Walker: The hell, Dee, I been on a roll here.

[He brings his eyes back to contact with Dane's.]

Walker: Or least I was before you came along. Heh.

[Eric's smile smears away as he runs a hand through shoulder-length blonde hair.]

Dane: You're running through guys who this time last year you wouldn't even have wrestled, asshole.

[Walker pauses as the next counter point from Dane hits him. This one ringing even more truer than the first, cutting even deeper. He thinks back to a year ago when he was damn near the top guy in the World Wrestling Alliance. He was the National Champion, he was on top and he was getting over on the best of them. But... Bringing himself back to the now and he looks back on all the scrubs he's run through so far. His defiance towards his old friend continues to crumble as he retorts sarcastically.]

Walker: Heh. I'm pacing myself.

[Eric blinks in disbelief.]

Dane: Pacing yourself? Did you say, pacing yourself?

Walker: Taking my time. Picking my spots. Pacing myself. I think that's what I just said, yep.

[Walker's rage has pretty much subsided, but his sarcastic nature is starting to come forth as he stands now defiantly with that cocky ass grin spread across his face.]

[Eric nods his head, and backs off toward the door.]

Dane: Yeah, well, I'm not here to "pace" anything. As a matter of fact, I'm done with this conversation. I'm going to walk out that door and one of two things are going to happen. Either you'll sit here stewing in your juices and let AJ and Cindy convince you that your the greatest thing since Sliced Bread, at which point I walk my happy ass back into retirement, or you'll walk out with me and we'll go take care of some business tonight.

[The Only Star lets it set in for a second before reaching back and pulling the door open. He turns his back on Walker and makes to walk out the door.]

Walker (eyebrow raised): What business do you have in mind?

[Clearly interested he takes a step toward Dane's direction.]

[Finally Eric drops his attitude, slaps an arm around the shoulders of Tyrone Walker, and the two of them walk off down the hallway.]

Dane: Just a little bit of...

[Back to the booth.]



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

MN: Curiouser and curiouser...

DT: So it would seem. Looks like Tyrone Walker has fallen in with a rather shady character in this Eric Dane fellow.

MN: I'll say. That guy's shifty.

DT: In any case, it's time we moved on to our next match of the evening, as we get to see the self-proclaimed Emperor in action!

MN: Woohoo! All hail Emperor Marx, foos!

DT: Jonathan Marx has been making quite a splash in the wrestling world, but he's had a run of bad luck thus far here in EPW. Tonight he looks to turn it around against Cliff Young.

MN: Marx has gonna have a fire under his ass for this one, let me tell you right now.

DT: Let's go to the ring!



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"Gentleman" Jonathan Marx vs. "Youngblood" Cliff Young​

[The image of blood drips over the live feed of the entranceway on the 'Tron for those live in attendance, and over the live view of the entranceway for those at home watching on television. The opening drumbeats of Black Label Society's "We Live No More" begin playing, and mist pours out from behind the entrance curtain. About 40 seconds into the song, when the vocals enter over the guitars, Cliff Young walks out from behind the curtain with Jesse White in tow. Cliff, sporting his black leather biker jacket over his tights, walks slowly down the ramp towards the ring while Jesse follows suit. Cliff rolls into the ring, and Jesse hops up onto the apron. Jesse steps over the top rope and into the ring while Cliff runs the ropes for a few seconds. The two meet in the middle of the ring, and then Cliff turns his back to his friend, dropping to a knee while his extends his arms out to the side. Jesse raises his fists into the air, and the two pose as flashbulbs go off all through the crowd. "We Live No More" begins dying down, and Cliff gets to his feet, sliding his jacket off and handing it to Jesse. Jesse steps over the top rope and to the ringside floor as Cliff is checked out by the referee for foreign objects.]

DT: This looks set to be a good match, with both men putting in strong showings at Black Dawn.

MN: Yeah, and both lost, so they have something else in common.

DT: Hey, Mike, you want me to tell either of these men that you called them losers.

MN: Well they are…

[CUE UP: "Only Happy When It Rains" by Garbage. Marx walks calmly to the ring, his eyes fixed on Young as he goes through the ropes. The ref checks him for anything illegal, and the match begins]

DT: Collar and elbow here, Marx pushing Young back to the corner. The ref’s asking for the clean break…Marx with a chop to the chest, and a whip in to the other corner.

MN: Marx sure looks determined here, doesn’t he?

[Marx follows up his offence, doubling Young up and planting him with a double arm suplex, rolling over to lift Young off the mat. He whips him off the ropes again, catching him with a drop toehold on the rebound]

DT: Marx setting something up here… MARXISM!!! MARXISM ALREADY?!?

MN: Can Young hold on? We’ve seen it before….

DT: Young’s fighting it…. YOUNG TAPS OUT!!!

[SFX: *DINGDINGDING* - Bell rings]



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

MN: Aww, man. I didn’t even have time to have a nap.

DT: Sorry for my colleagues lack of professionalism, but Marx picks up the win regardless with that EXCRUCIATING STF. Looks like Marxism is alive and well after the disappointment of Black Dawn.

MN: I thought we were done with the squashes.

DT: So did I, but Marx was just fired up in a big way, and I guess Cliff Young wasn't ready for it.

MN: I'll say.

DT: So, um... I guess we're going to move on, then.

MN: I'm down.

DT: This next match has the potential to be a slobberknocker! At Black Dawn, Adam Benjamin defeated Karl Brown to become the new Intercontinental Champion, but he faces some VERY stiff opposition in Troy Douglas tonight!

MN: Douglas should be fighting for the World Title tonight, but he was screwed out of his shot by Beast and Cameron Cruise-missile!

DT: That's certainly a valid opinion, Mike. We'll see how Benjamin handles the hungry, focused competitor that is Troy Douglas. Tony, take it away!



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

EPW Intercontinental Championship
"Yours Truly" Adam Benjamin (C) vs. Troy Douglas​

TONY FATORA: Th' following contest is scheduled for one fall! It is for the Intercontinental Heavyweight Championship!

[Loose yourself by Emiem begins to blast as "Yours Truly" Adam Benjamin makes his way slowly to the ring. Adam is wearing two English flag bandana's one that cover his head and the other that covers the lower part of his face revealing only his stone cold eyes. Adam makes his way into the ring and stands firm in his corner waiting for the bell to ring.]

TONY FATORA: Introducing first, from England... He weighs in at two hundred and forty-five pounds... He is the reigning and defending Intercontinental Heavyweight Champion... Thissss issss ADAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMMM... BEEEEEEEEEEEN-JAMIIIIIIIIINNNNNN!!!

[CUE UP: "Kashmir" - Led Zeppelin. The fans offer a HUGE positive reaction, rising out of their seats and cheering on Troy Douglas as he walks to the ring.]

TONY FATORA: And now the challenger! He hails from Greensboro, North Carolina! He weighs in at two hundred and sixty pounds! He issss TRRRRRRROOOOOOOYYYYY... DOOOOOOOUGLAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSS!!!

[SFX: *DINGDINGDING* - Bell rings]

 

[DBrunkGXW]

[Immediately, Douglas goes on the attack, decking Adam Benjamin with a stiff clothesline. A second and a third clothesline rock the champion in similar fashion. Caught off-guard, Benjamin rolls down to the floor to escape, glaring up at Douglas in disbelief.]

DT: Troy Douglas is ALL fired up! He's definitely shaken the Intercontinental Champion here!

MN: He's loaded for bear, man!

[Douglas slides out of the ring to pursue his prey. With a start, Benjamin turns and runs around the ring; Douglas chases him, only for Benjamin to bound onto the ring barricade and attempt to spring off into a moonsault. His aim is true: He lands right on Douglas. Or rather, on Douglas' shoulder, as the bigger man snaps him up in mid-move, then turns and charges him back-first into the ringpost!]

DT: OW!

MN: That's gonna leave a mark!

DT: Benjamin tried for the railing moonsault, but Douglas won't have any of that!

[With a callous motion, Douglas drops Benjamin to the floor with a body-slam; the impact sends a loud *SMACK* through the arena as flesh meets barely-padded concrete. From there, Douglas grabs Benjamin by the arm and whips him back-first into the barricade, then chops at the champion's chest twice before rolling him into the ring, following him in.]

DT: Douglas is on fire, and he's really taking it to Adam Benjamin here!

[Not wasting a moment, Douglas cradles the head of Benjamin and pulls him off the mat, but Benjamin shoots his hands up and claws at the bigger man's eyes. The move stuns Douglas, allowing Benjamin to take him down with a DDT. The impact causes Douglas to bounce to an unsteady stand, and Benjamin takes advantage by delivering a crisp hiptoss, seguing into a headlock.]

DT: Benjamin looking to regain control here, applying that headlock to control Troy Douglas on the canvas.

MN: He's doin' what works best for Benji, yo.

[It doesn't work for long. With a surge of strength, Douglas boosts to his feet and back-suplexes Benjamin, breaking the headlock. Douglas holds on and brings Benjamin up, then drops him on his head with a brutal backdrop driver! As Benjamin stumbles to his feet, Douglas pounds him in the head with a hard forearm, then delivers a textbook vertical suplex, floating over for a cover!]

DT: Floatover by Douglas, and the hook to the leg! One - TWO - No, Benjamin kicks out!

MN: YEAH! Go Megatron! WOOOOO!

DT: Troy Douglas is NOT Megatron, darn it!

MN: He IS Megatron! MASTER OF THE PREDACONSSSSSSS!!!

DT: I thought I told you that joke got old!

MN: Retro is in, Daaaaaaavey.

[Dragging Benjamin to his feet, Douglas whips him into the ropes, shooting for a spin kick on the rebound; Benjamin ducks and runs under it, coming back to rock Douglas with a forearm. Benjamin then tries for a Greco-Roman takedown from behind, but Douglas reverses him and slaps on a hammerlock. Benjamin reverses THAT into an arm wringer, only for Douglas to matrix-flip out and clothesline the other man down.]

MN: MATRIX Megatron!

DT: What a sequence there by Douglas, breaking up that Benjamin arm-wringer!

[Douglas takes a moment to slug at Benjamin on the mat for a moment, then pulls him up and whips him hard into the corner. Benjamin bounces off the turnbuckles and stumbles out of the corner, where Douglas takes him up and over with a crisp powerslam! The impact shakes the ring, drawing oooohs from the fans; Douglas holds on for the cover.]

DT: WOW, BIG POWERSLAM BY DOUGLAS!!! The cover!

One!

TWO!

-NO, TWO AND A HALF! Benjamin JUST rolled that shoulder off the canvas!

MN: Megatron's just been controlling him from the get-go, man! He knows he could've been fighting for the REALLY big prize tonight, and he wants to prove he's man enough to get there!

[Gruffly, Douglas pulls Benjamin up by the hair, whipping him into the corner and flattening him with a running clothesline. From there, he hooks Benjamin's head and turns him for a swinging neckbreaker, but Benjamin grabs the top rope; thus, Douglas is unable to bring him down and winds up falling all by his lonesome, landing on his back. Thinking quickly, Benjamin boosts himself up with the aid of the corner ropes and lands across Douglas' chest with a Vader Bomb!]

DT: OH! CORNER SPLASH by Benjamin counters the neckbreaker! Benjamin covers - HE'S GOT HIS FOOT ON THE ROPES!!! DAMMIT, HE'S GONNA STEAL IT - DOUGLAS KICKS OUT!!!

MN: Now now, Dave. Benjamin's foot wasn't on the ropes. It was just an optical illusion.

DT: Optical illusion, my foot! Benjamin tried to cheat!

[Benjamin takes control now, pulling Douglas up and slipping in behind him to apply a tight abdominal stretch. The referee drops to a knee in front of Douglas to check on him, but Douglas refuses to quit.]

DT: Abdominal stretch applied now by Adam Benjamin!

MN: Once Benjamin gets his hands on you, you ain't gettin' out! He's like a vice, man.

DT: Douglas not giving up! He's not going to submit!

MN: Megatron's in trouble, though.

DT: Indeed, Benjamin working it in - WHAT THE - BENJAMIN'S GRABBING THE TOP ROPE!!! HE'S USING THE ROPES FOR LEVERAGE!!! THAT DAMN CHEATER!!!

MN: Oh, Dave. He's just using it for balance!

DT: This just isn't right! Come on, ref! Do something! The official looking - Benjamin SNEAKS his hand off the rope! Look at him play innocent, the snake!

MN: Benjamin is NOT a snake! He's BIG DADDY ENGLISH!!!

DT: He's a damn scoundrel - AND HE'S GOT HIS HAND ON THE ROPE AGAIN!!!

MN: For BALANCE!!!

DT: SOMEONE NEEDS TO STOP THIS - Oh, the ref caught him, and he's forcing Benjamin to break the hold!

MN: That's not fair! He was just trying to steady himself!

[Released from Benjamin's vicelike grip, Douglas falls to the mat, holding his ribs in pain. Benjamin immediately gloms in on the weak spot, driving a pair of forearms into Douglas' ribs before locking him in a grounded surfboard submission, setting his knee against Douglas' back and pushing his arms out and back like motorcycle handlebars, stretching the North Carolinian's ribs and shoulders painfully!]

DT: Benjamin targeting those ribs with that surfboard hold!

MN: That's the thing about Benjamin. He spots an injured body part and he'll go after it like an animal.

DT: Douglas trying to fight here, but I think he might be fading!

MN: Megatron's still winded from that abdominal stretch.

DT: Yeah, because Benjamin cheated.

MN: LIES! He was BALANCING HIMSELF. How many times must I say this?

DT: Oh, don't try and excuse that! Either way, he's got Troy Douglas in a world of hurt here!

MN: Listen to him howling in pain!

[As Douglas strains against the hold, the fans begin to clap loudly in time with a chant of "DOUG-LAS! DOUG-LAS! DOUG-LAS!" Finally, Douglas fights to his feet and elbows his way out of the hold. He tries to run the ropes, but Benjamin grabs him by the hair and slams him down onto his back.]

DT: DOUGLAS FIGHTING FREE - NO, Benjamin shuts him down!

MN: Ooh, that had to hurt.

[Slowly, Douglas begins to rise, clawing at Benjamin's tights to help pull himself up. Benjamin smirks faintly, then grabs Douglas by the head and stuffs him into a standing headscissors. However, Douglas pulls Benjamin's legs out from under him, then falls back to catapult Benjamin towards the corner. Benjamin doesn't make it; his flailing arm collides with the referee, and both men take a tumble.]

DT: Catapult by Douglas - AND BENJAMIN HITS THE REFEREE!!!

MN: REF BUMP!

DT: I think that may've been intentional! Benjamin swung that arm out pretty widely...

[A dizzy Benjamin turns and stumbles towards Douglas - who snaps him up and levels him with the Broken Dream! He throws Benjamin into the corner and climbs to the second rope, then underhooks his arms and piledrives him off the top to a HUGE crowd reaction!]

DT: END OF THE ROAD!!! END OF THE ROAD!!! TROY DOUGLAS IS GONNA TAKE IT!!! THE COVER!!!



...DAMMIT, THE OFFICIAL'S STILL OUT!!!

MN: AAAH!

[Douglas has Benjamin covered; the crowd makes their own count of "ONE!!! TWO!!! THREE!!!" After about six seconds of cleanly pinning the unconscious Benjamin with no official count, Douglas breaks the cover and rises to his feet, obviously frustrated. He walks over to the referee and attempts to revive him.]

DT: I can't believe this! Troy Douglas should be the new Intercontinental Champion right now, but the official is unable to count!

MN: He's OUT! Benjamin's arm caught him right in the face and knocked him senseless!

[As Douglas continues to shake the referee, a groggy Benjamin rolls to his knees, then slinks up behind Douglas, shooting an arm up into Douglas' groin in a blatant low blow! Douglas' eyes bulge, and he falls backwards, allowing Benjamin to schoolboy him... grabbing his trunks in the process!]

DT: DAMMIT!!! A BLATANT LOW BLOW!!! BENJAMIN WITH A BLATANT LOW BLOW!!! AND A ROLL UP - HE'S HOLDING THE TIGHTS!!!

MN: HERE COMES A NEW REFEREE!!!

DT: THE COUNT!!!

ONE!!!




TWO!!!



THREEEEEEEEE!!! TROY DOUGLAS JUST GOT SCREWED!!!

MN: BENJAMIN RETAINS!!!

[SFX: *DINGDINGDING* - Bell rings]

TONY FATORA: Here is your winner and STILLLLLLLLLLLLL Intercontinental Heavyweight Champion... ADAAAAAAAAAAMMMMM... BEEEEEEEEEEEEEN-JAMIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNN!!!



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

DT: That just isn't fair! Troy Douglas had the match won, but Adam Benjamin steals it with the low blow and the handful of tights!

MN: Daaaaave. That was clearly a shot to the THIGH of Troy Douglas - and I don't know what you're smoking, but I didn't see a handful of tights.

DT: Then you're blind. Can we get a replay?

[REPLAY: The deciding pinfall. Benjamin is clearly holding Douglas' trunks.]

DT: There, convinced?

MN: He was, uh, scratching Douglas' lower back for him.

DT: Oh, baloney. Folks, we've got to take a break, but when we come back, it's time for the main event!

MN: WOO MAMA!!! HELL YEAH!!!

 

[DBrunkGXW]

DT: Welcome back to Aggression, everyone - and it's time for our main event of the evening!

MN: The BIG money match!

DT: At Black Dawn, Cameron Cruise outlasted three other men to gain the number one contendership to the Empire Pro World Heavyweight Title. Now, he gets that shot against our champion, Christian Sands.

MN: Cruise only won that match because Beast made Troy Douglas feel the RAHHRRR, but hey, I won 50 bucks, so I’ll take it.

DT: And of course, in the main event, Sands won an instant classic with Beast, setting this matchup for tonight.

MN: This one’s gonna rule. Sands has been all sarcastically evil this week, just the way I like it.

DT: Take it away, Tony Fatora!



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

EPW World Heavyweight Championship
Christian Sands (C) vs. Cameron Cruise​

TF: The following match is scheduled for one fall, and will be contested for the Empire Pro Wrestling Heavyweight Championship...of the World!!! Introducing first...

[CUE UP: “Headstrong” Trapt as the crowd pops for Cameron Cruise and his wife/valet Mercedes Devon walk down the ramp and to the ring.]

TF: From Jacksonville, North Carolina...weighing in at 249 pounds...he is accompanied by Mercedes Devon and is the number one contender to the World Championship....CAMEROOOOOOONNNN CRRRRRUUUUUUUIIIIISSSSSE!!!!!!!!

MN: Alright! Hardcore porn’s favorite couple! Right, Burgerman?

DT: Honestly, I wouldn’t know Mike.

MN: C’mon, Neely! What, you’ve never watched a man and a woman f-

DT: FAMILY SHOW!

MN: f-f-f-feel for each other?

DT: You just never learn, Michael.

MN: Smartass.

TF: And now, his opponent...

[The haunting strains of "Dark Machine" by Paul Oakenfold cue up, and the lights in the arena go out; the GlobalTron lights up with an image of Christian Sands gazing down from a distance, his face illuminated as if by car headlights through a window. After the first fourteen seconds of the song, a red strobelight kicks in. Smoke machines begin blowing a drifting mist horizontally across the ramp as Christian Sands emerges, striding down the ramp with the mist curling about his feet. He vaults into the ring over the top rope and stretches his arms briefly before boosting himself up to a turnbuckle, seating himself there facing inward.]

TF: Hailing from Barrie, Ontario, Canada, and weighing in at 270 pounds. He is the REIGNING and DEFENDING EPW World Heavyweight Champion ... CHRISTIAAAAAANNNN SAAAAAAAANDDDDDSSSSS!!!!!!

[SFX: Bell rings]

DT: Here we go, Sands and Cruise for the strap!

MN: Eh. Just let me look at Mercedes. Yummmmmm....

DT: We talked about this with Beast and Lindsay Troy.

MN: Yeah, but I can take Cruise. Beast has the power of the RAHHR!

DT: Go ahead, Neely. I’m not stopping you.

MN: Ahh, maybe later.

DT: Thought so. Cruise and Sands, sizing each other up, and now it’s on! Collar and elbow tie up, and a quick Irish whip by the champ. Off the ropes is Cruise, and he gets under a back elbow attempt. Sands turns around...and he’s met with a flying forearm by the challenger!

MN: Christian DEFINETELY didn’t expect that one!

DT: Cruise charges as Sands gets up, and a flying cross body block sends Sands to the mat. The pin...ONE...and a quick kickout by our champion!!! An early close call for Christian Sands!

MN: Sands ain’t scared, trust me. He’s the shiznit.

DT: I still don’t get it.

MN: We’ve already established that you’re just not cool, Thomas.

[Shell shocked after Cruise’s early barrage, Sands gets caught by surprise once again with a quick snap suplex by the number one contender. Cruise then sets to drop an elbow, but Sands quickly rolls out of the way and Cruise’s elbow hits the mat with a THUD!]

DT: Christian Sands with one of his trademark heady moves, and he may finally be showing some signs of life.

[Sands quickly picks Cruise up, hitting him with a series of knees and forearm blows before sending Cruise flying across the ring with a picture perfect belly to belly overhead suplex!]

MN: Hey! He didn’t go through airport security before he took that flight! Terrorist! Terrorist! Air Marshal, ARREST CAMERON CRUISE!

DT: Cruise is up and shaky, he turns around...SPEAR!!! Big spear by Christian Sands! And now, Sands is in his element. He’s going back to that submission wrestling that made him famous by locking in a Fujiwara Armbar!!

MN: Yeah, stop that terrorist! I knew Cameron Cruise was an alias!

DT: Cripes, Neely. Cameron Cruise isn’t a terrorist!

MN: Oh yeah, well, uh, PROVE IT!!!

[Sands wrenches on the arm and shoulder of Cruise, but Cameron is eventually able to fight his way to his feet, however, Sands keeps the hold locked in as a standing armbar.]

DT: Cruise has managed to get Christian Sands off his shoulder, but that armbar is still locked in and is still VERY painful.

MN: Sands is the master of these submission holds. He knows 472 ways to make you tap out with attacks to his opponents fingernails alone!

DT: Insight from Mike Neely once again. Cruise with a crescent kick to break the hold...NO! Sands grabs the leg with his other arm! He has him up...SINGLE LEG POWERBOMB!!! Cameron Cruise crashes to the mat after that side crescent kick backfired.

MN: That’s one of the most unbelievable power moves I’ve ever seen!

DT: Sands with the pin...

1...

2...

THRRRRR-KICKOUT!!! Cruise barely escapes after that vicious powerbomb!

MN: Mercedes looks worried. I’ll go comfort her.

DT: Stay right here, cowboy.

[Sands continues to maintain the advantage, hitting a big atomic drop before sending Cruise way overhead once again with a half-nelson suplex. He goes back to the submissions again, now locking in a surfboard submission hold. Cameron Cruise can be heard groaning in pain from the strain on his back as a pained look crosses his face.]

MN: Man, I bet Mercedes sounds like that in-

DT: QUIT IT NEELY!!!!

MN: But I don’t wanna!

DT: Sands STILL has that surfboard locked in, but Cameron Cruise is trying desperately to wriggle free. He’s fighting, still fighting, and he gets to the ropes by breaking his right arm free! Sands breaks the hold momentarily, but he pulls Cruise into a waistlock. German suplex by Christian Sands!

MN: Why are they called German suplexes?

DT: I don’t know, but here comes a SECOND German suplex by the World Champion!

MN: Really, I wanna know. Was there I Klaus von Suplex or something?

DT: I don’t KNOW, Michael, but Christian Sands rolls through and hits a THIRD German-NO! Low blow by Cruise, and now a devastating Impact DDT! Cameron Cruise has turned the tide, and now HE’S going to work with the submission holds! Ankle Lock Submission applied, and Christian Sands is feeling the pain!

MN: Come on, FEEL THE BURN, BABY!!!

DT: Why me? Why him? Is there any sense of justice in this universe?

MN: Nope. Heheheheheh.

DT: Oh. Crap.

MN: Don’t worry, you’ve still got you’re old pal Mike Neely here to be there for you.

DT: That’s what I’m so depressed about.

[Meanwhile, Sands finds himself unable to break the ankle lock, until Cruise tries to wrench the ankle once more and the champion is able to roll through, applying an armbar until Cruise is able to reach the ropes. Both men stand up, with Sands limping after the effects of that submission hold. Cruise sees this and quickly cut blocks Sands to the mat and begins dropping knees on that right ankle. However, as Cruise tries to work to the ankle lock once again, Sands springs to the mat.]

MN: YESSSS!!! Sands was just playing possum!

DT: Christian Sands, the master of mind games, just outsmarted Cameron Cruise, and now he’s going for the end...SANDMAN’S CLUTCH!!! He’s got the Cobra Clutch Crossface locked in!!!

MN: This is how he won the World Title, Davey!

DT: Cameron Cruise is trying to break the hold, and he DOES with a low blow!!! Sands is shocked and...REALITY CHECK!!! Reality Check out of nowhere by Cameron Cruise!!! The pin...

ONE...

TWO...

THREEEEE!!!! NO!!!! NO!!!! Sands kicked out at TWO POINT NINE!!!

MN: Wow. I’m stunned.

DT: That’s a first, people. Christian Sands gets dragged up by Cameron Cruise ... REALITY CHECK-blocked by Sands and turned into a MONSTROUS URANAGE!!!!! Sands now up top...MOONSAULT!!!

MN: He doesn’t fly often, but when he does, it always works.

DT: Save a couple of bursts by Cameron Cruise, Christian Sands has dominated this contest, and now he’s locking in a Sharpshooter! It’s in the middle of the ring!

MN: Cruise has gotta tap out!

DT: He’s not!

MN: He’s tapping!

DT: No!

MN: Yes!

DT: No!

MN: There!! He tapped!!

DT: No he didn’t! Cameron Cruise is struggling over to the ropes, and with a desperation grasp he gets them with his right hand!!!

MN: But, he tapped!

DT: No, he didn’t, Mike.

MN: Fine, suit yourself.

[Though the hold is broken, Sands is quickly back to work, hitting Cruise with a series of stiff and brutal kicks to the head before decimating Cruise with a Diamond Cutter and locking in a Figure Four Leg Lock!]

DT: Figure Four! We’ve never seen this from Sands before! He had to pick this one up from Jean Rabesque!

MN: Jean Ra-WHO?

DT: You REALLY need to watch other promotions, Neely. Sands and Rabesque fought a sixty six minute draw a month and a half ago!

MN: Ohhhh....THAT Jean Rabisque.

DT: Rabesque.

MN: I like Bisque better. Mmmmmm...sooooooouuuuuppp.

DT: Nevertheless, Christian still has that figure four clamped in, and now Cruise’s shoulders hit the mat!

ONE...

TWO...

HE GETS THE SHOULDER UP!!! But, that figure four continues to wear down the number one contender. Cruise is fighting back, he’s trying to roll over and reverse the pressure!

MN: He won’t get it...

DT: HE GOT IT!! The pressure is reversed, and now Cruise is working it back into a Sharpshooter of his own-NO!!! Sands caught his arms on the way back! Backslide attempt...

ONE...

TWO...

THR-NOOOOOO!!! Cruise barely kicked out of that UNREAL counter by Christian Sands.

MN: Man, I’ve never seen ANYONE counter a Sharpshooter like that!

DT: Christian Sands is wasting no time, and he’s now Cameron Cruise up to his feet. He grabs him...REALITY CHECK!!! Christian Sands just hit Cameron Cruise with his own finisher!! Wait a minute, he’s not going for the pin!

MN: No, he wants to break him into tiny little pieces first.

DT: He’s going for the Sandman’s Clutch once again!!! He sets it up, but Cruise reverses! Off the ropes comes Cam Cruise, and a Shining Wizard stuns Sands. Standing headscissors applied...SHIPWRECK-NO!!! Christian Sands blocked it with a back body drop! Cruise is up and charging, but Sands gets behind and...SAND BLASTER!!! Up he comes again...SAND BLASTER NUMBER TWO!!!

MN: OW! That hurts just looking at it!

DT: He hoists Cruise to his feet one more time, and NOW he has that Sandman’s Clutch cinched in good and tight!

MN: He’s gonna end this the same exact way he ended Beast!

DT: Cameron Cruise is damn near unconscious, but he’s still fighting it, and this sadistic Christian Sands just keeps locking that Cobra Clutch Crossface even tighter!!!

MN: He’s gotta tap! Nobody withholds for that long!

DT: He’s fighting it, fighting it...

MN: IT’S OVER!!!

DT: CAMERON CRUISE TAPS OUT!!!

[SFX: *DINGDINGDING* - Bell rings.]

TONY FATORA: Here is your winner and STILLLLLLLLLLLL Heavyweight Champion of the World... CHRRRRRRRRRISTIAAAAAAANNNNNNN... SAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNNDSSSSS!!!



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

DT: Well, Cameron Cruise put forth an unbelievably valiant effort, but in the end he just could not withstand the force of Christian Sands and that deadly Sandman’s Clutch submission.

MN: Hell, Beast couldn’t withstand it and he’s got the RAHRR!!! Cruiser couldn’t hold it out for long, especially since he’s a...

DT:...DON’T SAY TERRORIST!!!

MN:...smaller guy than Beast!

DT: Damn you. Damn you to the eternal depths of hell. What a main event, and what a stunning night of action here in Atlanta at Aggression! Be sure to tune in next week for more Aggression!

MN: And more RAAHR!

DT: For Mike Neely, I'm Dave Thomas - Goodnight, everybody!

[Fade to credits, then to black.]

 

[DBrunkGXW]

Updated 12/7/06