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AGGRESSION 38: New Orleans, LA - 9/3/08

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Sep 11, 1997
Katy, TX
---- The following presentation is a service to the public paid for by Ice Tre ---

FADEIN: Soft piano backed by strings and gentle horns. We come up on a black backdrop, colorful and vibrant stars dot it randomly. The Undisputed King of the Streets waits for an off-screen cue; his face stoic and almost ... introspective.

He wears no chain; Naked.

He wears neither cap nor crown; Solemn.

His swagger is subtle, but persistent -- even while standing still; Pimp.

The music finally fades into the background. Cue: The Ultimate Hustler.

ICE TRE: Yo, it's Your Boy -- The T R E, here to talk to you tonight about guns, son.

The camera abruptly changes angles and Tre does his best to accomodate. He stifles a wide grin as he brings a Desert Eagle into the shot.

ICE TRE: Weapons be deadly, and guns be the DEADLIEST, ya heard? When you on the grind, livin' the day to day, pride and pressure can lead a young buck to act a FOOL. Guns ain't the way to go. Guns are the cause of over TWO PHIRDS of all accidental deaths in this country. A gun can't get you an education. They ain't gonna get you any fine ass chicks. Guns ain't never taught a boy to be a man.

CUT TO: Tight shot.

ICE TRE: You want the TRUTF from Ice Tre??? Boys play wit' guns. Men ... play wit' THESE.

Tre taps his temple.

Camera cuts to the first shot, and Tre can't hold back his grin as he raises the Desert Eagle up, looking down the sight with glee.

ICE TRE: ...awwwwwww, yeah.



Sep 11, 1997
Katy, TX
Setting the Stage

[Earlier today...
CUT TO: The rear entrance door. Who stands there ready, willing and able to ask the hard questions? KENNY LOMBARDO, of course.]

KL: Fans, I am told that any minute now the most sensational superstar in Empire Pro's recent history will arrive. The performer known the world over as ICE TRE was jailed on weapons charges just a few short weeks ago and will be making his FIRST APPEARANCE BACK TONIGHT against "Phenomenal" Frankie Scott! Frankie Scott, of course, is determined to--

[The door opens without much fanfare and in strides CASSIDY STEWART -- conspicuously WITHOUT his client, the indefatigable Ice Tre. Stewart takes a moment to register the camera crew, then Lombardo.]

CASSIDY: Mr. Lombardo.

[A moment later and he had reconciled the fact that avoiding an interview would be impossible at this point. If anything, he could make it more difficult. Cass turned, following the sign towards the lockerroom and Kenny chased after him -- the cameraman scooped his equipment from it's tripod and trotted down the hall.]

KL: Mr. Stewart .... where is Ice Tre?

[Stifling a sigh, Stewart began the spin.]

CASSIDY: Rest assured ... Ice Tre is in New Orleans--

[A quality, cheesy, home-grown pop reverberates through the arena, catching Stewart off guard. He allows a slick smile, coming to a rest outside a lockerroom boasting a "t r e" nameplate.]

CASSIDY: --and Ice Tre WILL be in action tonight! I understand you want the first scoop, the first word. But with all due respect, Mr.Lombardo, now is just NOT the time. This ... is just not the place. Ice Tre will speak to the people tonight. As a matter of fact, his first Public Service Announcement is set to air tonight. I can guarantee that My Client will not leave ... without reminding the world Who He IS .... and What He WANTS.

[Cass opens the lockerroom door and half-steps in.]

CASSIDY: Thanks, Kenny.

[Slammed in Kenny's face, he took an annoyed step away from the door with disgust.]

KL: Guys, we had hoped to get a word with the King of the Streets and instead got STONE-WALLED by a suit. I promise every viewer at home that I will stand my ground, right here, WAITING for Ice Tre to arrive! You had better believe that--

[The screen fell dark as someone stepped before the lens, a silhouette of anger and hate. It is STALKER, flanked by NAKITA DAHAKA. He wrenches the mic from Kenny's hand, tossing it to the ground -- it popped, dying, sending furious feedback through the line. Dahaka was through the door and in Cassidy's space within moments. Stalker pressed Lombardo out of the shot and gestured to the cameraman to get lost before striding into Tre's lockerroom -- slamming the door behind him. The camera would cut out just as Stalker turned his attention towards it.]


[Meanwhile, on the opposite side of the building at the exact same time...]

"Your turn, Stevens. JA's already signed it, so I just need the other John Hancock and we'll be squaresies."

[CUTTO: A rather large, corner office, with all the trims and fixings that are usually associated with high level executives. Large window with an incredible view? Check. Fully furnished living room, plush sofa and 50 inch plasma TV? Check. Comfy leather chair, in front of a desk made of the finest oak, the size of a dining room table? Check.]

"B[BLEEP]tch don't talk to me."

[Reigning EPW King of the Cage, former champ, and the man responsible for Rocko Daymon's close encounter with death, SEAN 'TRIPLE X' STEVENS stood in front of the desk of EPW owner, Lindsay Troy, contract in hand, eyes fixated on her.]

TROY: Cut the 'tude, Sean, because I have zip problem tearing up the contract, tossing JA the belt and banning you from the World Title scene for the rest of the year. Sign the thing and then you're free to have Dahaka suck the wax out of your ear up until the match.

TRIPLE X: ...but, then you'd prove to the world what *I* always knew. That you're a walking contradiction. Or did you forget your whole spiel about nothing being handed out for free in 'your' company? Or does that just apply to me? ...Considering I was on the verge of doing something in this promotion that nobody had ever done, yourself included.

[Trip was in competition mode, in his brand new, sleeveless, 100% cotton, "King Of The World" t-shirt, black and silver tights, sloppy pony-tail, and two day old shadow.

Troy, on the other hand, looked classic in a white blouse and sharp black pants.]

TROY: What were you going to do, be a bigger d[BLEEP]ck than Troy Windham? Because that's not exactly something anyone should strive for. And as far as you're concerned, considering all the sh[BLEEP]t you've pulled lately, the only thing you've earned is my ire. JA was next in line for a crack at the world title. Only thing you've done to get in this position is lose it to Daymon.

[Stevens frowned.]

TRIPLE X: Troy who?

[The 'Blue-Eyed Badass' brushed her off.]

TRIPLE X: JA wasn't in line for anything. He's a clown. He went an entire four months without so much as cutting an EPW promo, and you reward him with a title match? Why? Because he showed promise when you wrestled here?! Well, that was a long time ago, Lindsay, and if you keep f[BLEEP]king with me, I'm going to remind the both of you why you lost your smiles and ran away.

TROY: [smirking] And I could very easily tell you that you never beat me, you pinned Melton for the title, whereas I hold a pinfall over you. But at the end of the day, who really gives a sh[BLEEP]t? You may be in a position, by my good graces, to become the only two-time Empire Pro World Champ, but EYE still have a monster two PLUS year reign. Two titles? That's real shiny, Captain, but much more attainable by others than my feat. What I did is something that no one has ever done before...and something that I doubt will ever happen again.

[Feeling disrespected, the King of the Cage began breathing heavily, which eventually led to Sean taking a couple of aggressive steps in Lindsay's direction. Not knowing what to expect, her natual instincts caused her to stand up from her desk, and face him.

They were now nose-to-nose. Merely an inch apart.

With the contract still in his left hand, Stevens used his right to violently knock all of Lindsay Troy's items off of her desk, laptop included. You could hear pieces scattered all over the office upon impact with the floor.

Lindsay Troy didn't budge, she simply stood her ground, prepared for the worst.

After a couple more seconds of staring a hole into one another, Sean placed the contract on her – now empty – desk, and signed it, before backpedaling slowly to the office door, and opening it.]

TROY: Did I mention that you and the Bride of Creepzilla are both fined 25k for that stunt with Freeman last show? I'm pretty sure I had that on my "To-Do List" tonight, [She looks down at the mess on the floor] but since you had to go and throw a hissy I'm not sure where it is in that pile anymore.

[The Queen of the Ring snaps her gaze to Stevens, and gives him a positively gloating smile.]

TROY: And since she's my Curtain Jerker For Life, she can't afford that hefty sum. Looks like you'll be dipping a little deeper into the bank account to cover her cellulite ass.

[Stevens extended his neck, trying to get a glimpse of Lindsay's posterior.]

TRIPLE X: You can hardly afford to talk about anybody's ass.

TROY: Hey pal, my ass is so hot it sears corneas. Go peep my PRIME bio.

[The door slams]

TROY: Jackass.



Sep 11, 1997
Katy, TX
Intro - Ice Tre vs. Frankie Scott


[Pyro erupts - 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, tapping the belt over his shoulder.
CUT TO: “Triple X” Sean Stevens on the second turnbuckle staring out into the crowd with one arm raised overhead.
CUT TO: Lindsay Troy 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 arena before finally resting on the broadcast team.]

DT: Ladies and gentlemen, this is Aggression 38 and we are LIVE from the New Orleans Arena in New Orleans, Louisiana!! With me as always are my partners in crime, Dean Matthews and Mike Neely. Dean-o, I have to say …we really dodged a bullet with the weather and despite a little flooding here and there…the city as a whole made out pretty well.

DM: Definitely, Dave. You gotta love the great fans in New Orleans. Half the city is evacuated but we’ve got a full house on hand. That says something about these people right here.

DT: Well let’s get the festivities started…..Last week Ice Tre issued an open challenge to the entire EPW roster. One man accepted. His name is "The American Idol" Frankie Scott.

DM: Unfortunately Dave, that's all we heard from Frankie this week. He's been incognito.

MN: He's been as hard to find as Michael Phelps' bronze medals in his trophy case.

DM: Some may not remember, but prior to Black Dawn Scott told the entire backstage roster at EPW to kiss his ass. Ice Tre was one of the men he specifically singled out. It makes it all the more peculiar that he's been AWOL this past week.

MN: How the heck do you remember that Dean? It was months ago. You have something you want to tell us about your relationship with The American Idol?

DM: Not really Mike. I just had this note waiting for me to mention it before the match starts. They'd give you notes like that too. You just need to learn how to read.

MN: What's the point? Books are on CDs now. The Internet's got everything on video. I do just fine with my third grade reading level.

DM: Well you could read your prescriptions correctly. You could stop taking your Valtrex three times a day thinking its your Valium. You can't kill herpes by taking more pills.

MN: You'll never understand the suffering I go through three to six times a year Dean.

DT: ANYWAY, back to the show. Here comes The American Idol now.

[CUE UP: “Phenomenon” by Thousand Foot Krutch hits the sounds speakers as The American Idol, Frankie Scott steps out from behind the curtain to almost unanimous cheers. Scott tries to get the crowd going by flailing his arms in a gesture to signify his urging for the crowd to get loud. He slaps hands as he walks down the ramp and
climbs into the ring.]

DT: For introductions we turn to the ever-eloquent Tony Fatora...

TF: From Atlanta, Georgia, standing six foot two and weighing in at two hundred forty two pounds, the one and only American Idol,


MN: It's good to see Frankie alive and well. I missed him this week.

DM: Well if anyone's going to have a little ring rust it everybody's boy, Ice Tre. This guy is 100% charisma.

MN: And 0% wrestling acumen.

DM: Say what you want, Ice Tre is EPW through-and-through. It's great to see him back. Listen to the roars starting already in the crowd. Ice Tre loves EPW and EPW loves Ice Tre right back.

MN: The guy is a little weasel. He reminds me of an albino Flava Flav.

DM: Don't hate the playa.

MN: AAAHHAHAHA!! Nice try Dean! You're as lame as Bush's administration in the coming months. Leave the ebonics lesson to the professionals.

["Bad as Can" by BEETLEJUICE suddenly bumps through the PA system, the crowd rises to their feet in anticipation, and the curtain parts. It is Ice Tre ... and DAMN is he a sight!?! Dressed in a bedazzled blue/white ring coat, no shirt, and blue tights, Ice Tre
trots down the aisle, brimming with confidence and all-smiles.

Tonight is the night.

He slaps the hands of fans along his way to ringside, awkwardly sliding under the bottom rope and into the ring. Raising a fist, he snaps his bulky shades from his face and glares into the camera with his version of "menace".]

TF: And his opponent, in a special challenge match... from The MEEEAANNNN Streets... standing five feet ten inches tall and weighing in at an astonishing 171 pounds..... he is the one and OONLLYYYY...IIICCCCCCCE TREEEEEEEEE!!!!!

DT: It’s Ice Tre! He’s here after all!

DM: [sarcastically] Yes, how did he ever slip past the impenetrable shield of Kenny Lombardo?

MN: Wow, I forgot how puny he is.

DM: I believe the term is featherweight Mike.

MN: Do you think when he golfs he hits from the ladies' tees?

DM: The guys wins with heart, and sometimes heart alone.

DT: And the bell rings as the two competitors shake hands and start this one off. Frankie Scott immediately locks up Ice Tre, as he knows technical proficiency isn't Tre's strong suit. Scott executes a beautiful Japanese Armdrag and Ice Tre is already holding his back in pain. Frankie picks Tre up, and immediately Ice Tre punches Frankie in the stomach while on one knee. The two exchange blows before The American Idol whips Tre into the ropes. Scott with a belly-to-belly suplex on the much smaller Ice Tre.

MN: Sometimes I feel like I'm watching David Arquette fight Quentin “Rampage” Jackson in the octagon when I watch Ice Tre wrestle.

DM: Yeah, we get it Mike, he's probably underweight for a wrestler.

MN: I never said that! There's lots of professional wrestlers around the same weight as Ice Tre. Nakita Dahaka, Lindsay Troy, Foxx, Beastlet….... I could go on.

DT: Ice Tre looks like he's in some pain, and it seems Frankie Scott is underestimating his opponent's threshold. Scott signals for his finisher already, The Phenom Drop. Scott locks up Tre, but the pale gangsta from the Mean Streets sneaks out of it and reverses with a drop toe hold. Back up to his feet, Tre Stomps on his opponent. He turns him over and mounts Frankie, pounding him with lefts and rights like an amateur brawler. After a little ground and pound, Tre thinks he sees an opportunity here. He climbs to the top rope.

MN: This should be interesting. Five bucks says he falls off the turnbuckle.

DM: As we all know, Ice Tre is a big fan of aerial maneuvers. That is, TRYING aerial maneuvers. Whether or not he's successful at pulling the moves off is usually another story.

DT: Ice Tre playing to the crowd now. They cheer for their newly returning fan favorite. Ice Tre is loving the attention. Meanwhile, it's pretty obvious to anyone who knows what they're doing that Scott is playing possum. Tre awkwardly maneuvers on the turnbuckle before attempting to execute a Frog Splash... and Scott gets the knees up! OUCH!!! Ice Tre missed his mark and took a kneecap right to the chin. He lands in a heap as Scott practically jumps to his feet.

DM: Wow, that was brutal! The fans here are stunned. I don't think Tre's conscious Mike.

MN: Yeah that was classic! Only Ice Tre can turn an opportunity into an appointment with a plastic surgeon like that. His jaw must be shattered.

DT: He'll definitely feel it in the morning. Meanwhile Scott picks up a now limp Ice Tre. He slaps Tre in the face a few times to wake him up. Once Tre can stand upright on his feet again, Scott looks to take advantage. He lands a knee lift to Tre's jaw, as the fans 'ooooohhhh'. Picking Ice Tre back up, Scott plants Ice Tre with a Falcon Arrow. Scott's fans are cheering their approval. He's really taking advantage here. He tries the pin.



Th... and a kickout by Tre. What resilience!

DM: Still, Tre made one big mistake, and he's paying for it here. I expect Scott to capitalize soon.

MN: Wake me up when it's over will you? I don't really care who wins. They're both too goody-two-shoes for my taste.

DM: But Mike, we need you to contribute you professional opin...actually yeah, go ahead and snooze as long as you like.

MN: Careful Dean. I'll start taking over for Thomas if you don't cut out the sarcasm.

DM: Who's being sarcastic?!

DT: Anyway... Frankie's still in control of this one as Tre's lack of .... talent, I guess... is prohibiting him from reversing any of these moves. A Fallaway Suplex followed by a Tilt-A-Whirl DDT and Tre is reeling. Frankie just drags Tre into the middle of the ring.
He signals that it's time to end it here. Frankie grabs Tre's right leg... and applies a Single Leg Boston Crab. Tre is pounding the mat and howling in pain. The fans are very mixed, depending on whether they're Scott fans or Ice Tre fans. They're really getting into the action as they watch Ice Tre fight to stay in this thing.

DM: Look at Ice Tre's DETERMINATION Mike! This guy never backs down or gives in. It's inspiring.

MN: It'd be inspiring if Tre pulled some brass knucks out of his shorts and busted Scott in the dome with them. Then I'd be inspired.

DM: What we're witnessing is fortitude and mental discipline the likes of which you rarely see in this business. Ice Tre has the heart of a champion.

MN: And the body of a goth kid.

DT: Ice Tre is actually fighting his way out of this hold. Despite the added wrenching on his leg, Tre is slowly lifting himself off the mat. Frankie is shaking his head, but can't hold Tre down. Tre ROLLS OUT of the Single Leg Boston Crab and kicks Scott in the face. Both men are on their feet at the same time. They exchange vicious blows as the crowd goes nuts. It's truly a dogfight here, which I think helps Tre more than Scott.

DM: This is like being at the tracks. The fans are just screaming for their favorite wrestler as the two battle it out. It's almost split right down the middle for these two.

MN: Did you have to mention horse-racing? I'd give my right pinkie toe to be at the tracks right now, instead of watching these two 'role models' [in mocking tone].

DM: Your right pinkie toe, huh? That's quite the sacrifice Mike.

MN: Well, it's worth it.

DM: Right...

DT: Ice Tre's brawling background comes in handy here, as he somehow overpowers Scott and Irish whips him into the ropes. He catches Scott and executes a beautiful belly-to-back suplex.

MN: Wow, where did that come from?!

DM: Tre with a HUGE move! I bet Scott didn't see that one coming.

DT: Immediately Ice Tre goes for the pin.



Kickout! Scott stays alive. He looks stunned though as he gets to his feet. Tre lands several kicks to the midsection. He's feeling cocky as he whips himself off the far ropes. Going for a clothesline, Scott recovers just in time. He flips Ice Tre over his back and HIIIGGGHHH into the air! Holy cow! Tre just went soaring through the air and landed on a guard rail.

MN: HAHAHAAA!!! Now THAT'S what I'm talking about! Look at Ice Tre laying on the mat just squirming in pain.

DM: Now THAT hurt. And Scott looks amazed at his own strength. He's playing to the crowd, half of whom loved that display of power.

DT: Frankie is indeed hamming it up to the crowd. He's walking back and forth posing like a bodybuilder. He's also calling for more cheers, and his fans are glad to give him support.

DM: Wait a minute...

MN: Is Ice Tre really back on his feet?!

DM: Ice Tre is UP! What grit! This guy never quits, period.

DT: Ice Tre slides into the ring. Frankie Scott has his back turned. Ice Tre sneaks up on his opponent and rolls him up...




DM: Ice Tre's toughness gets him the win in this one. It was a great match. Too bad The American Idol played to the fans a little too long there.

MN: Yep, Frankie Scott blew this one. He had this one within his grasp, but came up just a little bit short.


Sep 11, 1997
Katy, TX
Tre On The Loose

[CUTTO: The backstage area, once more. Someone comes around the corner, suavely and with a certain je ne sais quoi. It's YOUR BOY, Ice Tre. Blinged out, crisp, and bouncin' with every ounce. He limps around the corner like a refugee. Lombardo is [wisely?] nowhere to be found as Tre saunters down the corridor, nodding to every passing crew member and visitor as if Tre were the Mayor. Dressed in sagging khakis and a baggy custom jersey, thrown over the top of his in-ring apparel; the word "K 1 N G" fashioned across the front and back, Ice Tre shined like the craziest of diamonds, basking in the glory of his well earned victory.]

ICE TRE: S'appnin', baby!?!

[Tre acknowledged the camera and rounded the corner towards the lockerrooms. Earbuds in his ears, the buzz of the base was picked up by the mic. The door to his lockerroom was ajar and this immediately caught Tre's attention, yanking his earphones from his ears and jamming them in his pocket along w/ his iPhone.]

ICE TRE: Cassanova?

[Following Tre inside the lockerroom, we find it to be devoid of Cassanova entirely. Lying on the table is a rumpled green tie and a note. Tre picked it up, dumb-founded as ever. He struggled to read it.]

ICE TRE: Say WHAT? ... Cass fell down?

[Tre dropped the note to the table and bounced out the door and down the hall. Panning down to it, the lens zoomed on the hand-written text.]

"Where is Cassidy? He's FALLEN. Come and find him, if you ever want him to get up."

[The cameraman spun around and darted into the hallway -- just in time to spy Ice Tre running into an uneasy Kenny Lombardo.]

KL: Tre! You're ... alright!?!

ICE TRE: Say WHAT? 'Course I'm aight! You ain’t seen my match just now? What yo' deal is?

KL: I had a hunch that The FALLEN had set a trap for you -- they were lurking around your lockerroom!

ICE TRE: The Fallen? You peep my boy, Cassanova?

KL: Stewart? Yeah. They ... kinda cornered him in your lockerroom, last I saw him. He's not with you?

[Tre looked off screen, his face paler than ever, eyes heavy with concern.]

ICE TRE: Nah. I thought it was strange that I hadn’t seen him all night. And that he wasn’t at ringside with me. And that he didn’t answer any of my twenty five text messages.

KL: Well, while I have you here ... can I get a few words with you?

ICE TRE: Make 'em quick.

[Lombardo's demeanor instantly switched from distressed to professional. Time to ask the "hard questions".]

KL: Ice Tre, the last time you were in the ring you found a way to beat Stalker, thus retaining your Crown-of-Questionable-Ownership, inside a Steel Cage at BLACK DAWN! Few men can claim to have walked away from ANY confrontation with a madman like Stalker -- let alone inside the deadly confines you found yourself in. You have a history with all three members of the newly-formed faction, The Fallen, and they CLEARLY have you on their shortlist of targets. How are you going to approach the situation?
[Tre stared at the ground, either in thought or sorting through his usual confusion. When his eyes met the lens they were piercing. Dare I say: Hard.]

ICE TRE: How I gon' approach 'em? Head on, full blast, and guns blazing, 'bardo. Best be ready. Unngh.

[Tre lunged toward the camera with some restraint, then darted down the corridor. Kenny adjusted his tie just before the scene cut back to ringside.]


Sep 11, 1997
Katy, TX
Forsaken TV

[FADE: The ring, which is set up for Forsaken TV, with three big screen TVs playing Doom Generation and a giant black couch in the middle of the ring. The First stands front and center, wearing a new EPW "Forsaken" T-Shirt, black gi pants and his hair is a mix of light green, bright orange, and jet black. Felix Red is hanging on the couch in black "no future" Pants, and a faded "Crack Rock Crowd" T-Shirt, his hair dyed black with roots of other colors showing. Felix is also holding a can of Sparks. Gothopotamus is standing behind the couch, he is wearing a fishnet T-Shirt, shiny black hotpants, stillettos, and is wearing nearly drag queen levels of make up, he holds the EPW World Tag Team Title Belts over his shoulders. "Never wanted to Dance" by MSI [TBM remix] plays.]

FIRST: "Blah blah blah, I'm really scary...OK, kill the music...Anyhow we've been sent out here to kill eat up some air time...So anyhow, what's going on with you Felix?"

FELIX: "I just did my laundry, I am awesome!"

FIRST: "And you Gothie?"

GOTHO: "I just shaved my balls."

[Felix spits a mouthful of Sparks upon hearing this.]

FIRST: "Dammit man, not on the couch, we only rent that thing."

FELIX: "Gotho, that's just gross."

GOTHO: "And I did it with your electric razor Felix."

FELIX: "What?! DUDE how?"

GOTHO: "I did it when I was cleaning your bathroom. You said you'd throw me through a 12th story window if I didn't do your bidding, sooooo I shaved my balls for revenge."

FELIX: "Finally, Gothopotamus....you're learning how to be a functional member of society."

FIRST: "Guys, guys, can we get the show back on track here, I mean normally laundry and ball shaving would be enough, but tonight we have a special guest who's got a tribute to an EPW legend!"

FELIX: "Hey, wait a minute, who died and made you MC here?"

FIRST: "Well I don't see you doing anything here."

FELIX: "Damn right, too much work, now I just need to get some more Sparks to wash these pills down." [Felix begins rooting through the couch.]

FIRST: "Well anyhow, enough of all that, tonight Forsaken TV welcomes the man who crippled Rocko Daymon and forced him to surrender the EPW World Heavyweight Title...Ladies and Gentlemen, here is STALKER!

["Did my time" by Korn blares over the PA system as the crowd loudly erupts into a booing fest. Jason Reeves walks through the curtains, cane in hand, making his way slowly to the ring. The fans at ringside taunt him loudly about his leg, but his grin is too much for them to shake off. He walks up the steps slowly using the cane for support and steps through the ropes. Grabbing a mic he leans back against the ropes and stares at the crowd.]

FIRST: Hey man, glad to have you out here...I just have to ask you first off...Last week, with a busted leg you fought tooth and nail in a tag match...Which was a truly noble effort..and you did this knowing you had 2 more matches left before you even got to fight us for the EPW World Tag Team Titles...Yet Rocko Daymon climbs the mountain, he wins the EPW World Title, and he gets a boo-boo on his arm, and he forfeits the EPW World Title...He could have fought through it like you did, but he didn't, really how gutless is he?

[Jason Reeves' smile grows bigger as he relfects on the actions of the gutless one.]

STALKER: I honestly knew it was going to happen. After living so long with what he had done to me and knowing what kind of pansy the guy was, I just knew it would happen. That is why when I sent him flying through that window, I knew right then and there that this was it for him. And as much as I was trying to pull Rocko down myself I have to give a huge thanks to Trip for lending me the hand I needed to pull him down with me. Sean is an amazing friend.

FIRST: In this long running blood feud with Rocko, is there anything you've learned about him that the fans out here might not know?

STALKER: Hah! These fans love that coward. There really wasn't much learned that these fans have not already seen. These fans are IDIOTS for cheering him. That man is a ****ING COWARD. He robbed me of my career for seven years and refused to own up to it. He's a ***** made housewife who follows orders from a woman that is a better fighter then he'll eve......

[“Death Is This Communion” by High On Fire blares over the PA system and Jason's jaw almost drops to the floor as the fans burst out in excitement with loud cheers. The camera pans to the curtains...... where........ no one shows. The camera pans back to Jason who is grinning.]

STALKER: Morons. I told you he's done! Haha.. you people are idiots I swear.

FIRST: So I hear you have a tribute video to the career of Rocko Daymon.

STALKER: Yes I most certainly do. Let's play it now.

[Jason points up to the video screen as slowly a picture is shown of Rocko Daymon holding the Empire Pro World Heavyweight title. "I'm not a girl, Not yet a woman" by Britney Spears starts to play as Jason loses it laughing in the ring. The camera shows the video screen of Rocko being slapped around by his wife, the scene then switches to Sean Stevens taking advantage of Caitlyn, while Rocko watches helpless. Next scene is of Stalker holding Caitlyn hostage in the middle of the ring, while Rocko watches helpless. Next shot is the same as the first of Rocko getting slapped around by his wife, the next shot is of Trip kissing Caitlyn again while Rocko watches helpless. And it continues in a repeated cycle, with each of the next scenes being shown slower and slower.]

["Death is this communion" by High on Fire blares on the PA again and this time someone is walking to the ring. It's..... It's..... Caitlyn Daymon?]

STALKER: Well.. well.. well look what we have here. It's the real man of the family!

[The fans who were first cheering for a split second send down a chorus of boos when they realize it's not truly Caitlyn Daymon but more a man dressed up like Caitlyn Daymon. She already... or he already has a mic in his hand.]

SHEMALE: Jason! I want you to leave my husband ALONE!

STALKER: Hey now, b*tch. You don't want to get your ass handed to you again and have your good for nothing husband not save you again, do you?

[The shemale begins fake crying as The First goes to console her.... rather it.]

STALKER: Now I'm sorry but as the song stated, Rocko is not a girl but he's also not yet a woman. So maybe I need to give him some time. Maybe I've been rushing things. I mean it's obvious you are truly the man of the family. You wear the pants, give the orders... hell I mean you even fight better then he does.

SHEMALE: You don't understand Jason! You never will... ROCKO IS SPECIAL!

FIRST: You got that right.



[The Shemale looks horrified at Gotho before kicking him in the groin and then beginning to put the boots to him, Stalker grabs the Shemale’s hair, and in the process pulls her/his wig off, The Shemale reacts in terror and pulls the wig back from Stalker and then scurries to a corner to put it back on.]

FIRST: “All I gotta say about all of this is that clearly…Caitlyn Daymon here is far more man then Rocko ever would be…”

STALKER: Not only is she more of a man then Rocko would ever be.... she looks to have a far better career down the road then he will. Welcome to my world, b*tch. Enjoy the streets!

[With a thud the mic drops as 'Did my Time' by Korn blares on. The fans, in disgust by what just transpired, litter the ring with trash.]


Sep 11, 1997
Katy, TX
Stalker vs. Cameron Cruise

[“Did My Time” by Korn blares over the speakers , heralding the entrance of one of The Fallen, the aptly monikered Stalker. Walking down to the ring with a slight limp, Jason Reeves eats up the boos from the crowd.]

TF: The following contest is scheduled for ONE FALL! Introducing first, from Parts Unknown … weighing in at 224 pounds … STAAAALKERRRRR!!!

DT: The demented Stalker, Jason Reeves, ready to take on a man who’s made a lasting impact in Empire Pro Wrestling from very nearly day one, Cameron Cruise. And, you’ve got to ask, Dean, with that debilitating knee injury, can Stalker withstand the offense of a powerful, focused Cruise.

DM: Well, Dave –

MN: Thomas, it’s CAMERON CRUISE. Gimme a plate of Eggo Waffles and a box held up by a stick and I could pin the guy.

DM/DT: Quiet you.

[With Stalker leaning himself against the corner, “Did My Time” fades out, only to be replaced by Bullet For My Valentine’s “All These Things I Hate [Revolve Around Me]”, and the boos are replaced by a loud POP! as Cameron Cruise makes his way to the ring.]

TF: His opponent, from Jacksonville, North Carolina … weighing in at 263 pounds … CAMEROOOONNN CRRRRUUUUUIIISSSSEEEEEE!!!!!


DT: And away we go here on Aggression! And here comes Stalker! He charges in … but Cruise shoots and dumps him right to the mat!

MN: Looks like Cruise has been studying his Tom Emanski tapes.

DM: Tom Emanski coaches BASEBALL, dingus.

MN: Says you.

DT: Cruise is laying in some BRUTAL ground and pound here, folks! Punches, elbows, hammer fists, he’s laying them in by the truckload, but Stalker’s just absorbing it … and he backs up under the ropes to force the break.

DM: Stalker’s got a high threshold for pain, but I’m not sure even he’d want to be under that rain of blows for too long a time without an umbrella.

MN: Whoa, whoa, whoa, Dean. Stop with the fancy word-talking and pull your ass off the Pretentiousness Turnpike.

DT: Stalker’s up, but Cruise chops down that bad knee with a sliding dropkick! Reeves is on his knees … and Cruise absolutely CRUSHES him with a seated dropkick to the chest!

MN: Rib crushingly good, that was.


MN: Shut up, Mister I’m-A-Human-Friggin-Thesaurus.

DT: Cruise scoops Stalker off the mat, and he tears at that injured wheel with a dragon screw leg whip! He holds onto the leg, rolls through, and delivers another! He knows Stalker’s weak spot, and he’s trying to rip that leg completely out of its socket.

DM: Cam Cruise – regardless of popular opinion – is one of the smartest wrestlers you’ll ever find, Dave, and when he finds an opening, he storms right through. He knows he can exploit that damaged knee, and he’ll do everything necessary to get that job done.

DT: And he’s keeping up with that mission right now, clamping down on that damaged appendage with a side leglock. Now Stalker is a tough, sadistic bastard, folks, but even someone like him isn’t going to be able to operate on just one leg.

MN: Well, if it’s a evil giant scary mega leg of DOOOOOOOM, then he might have a chance.

DM: Shaddup.

DT: Cruise sits up to adjust the hold – Stalker hooks his head! He rolls up Cruise…


TW – NO! Cruise kicks out, but Stalker showed tremendous ring presence with that reversal!

DM: Jason Reeves will never be mistaken for a technical wizard, but he’s always aware of his surroundings and how to turn them in his favor.

MN: He should be aware of his surroundings, as he’s, you know, a FRIKKIN STALKER an’ all that.

DT: Cruise hops up, but Stalker meets him with a forearm to the side of the head! And another! And a big right hand backs Cameron into the corner!

DM: And now Cameron Cruise is trapped and in major trouble. Enclosed spaces are where this guy works best.

DT: He’s doing that work right now, Dean. Lefts and rights to the body, he’s absolutely battering Cameron Cruise with these rough strikes. Stalker backs away … takes charge … shoulderblock! Cruise slumps down into the corner, and now Stalker’s laying the boots to him! Stomp after stomp, no regard for Cruise’s safety!

MN: He’s trying to kill him, Davey. What did you think he was going to do? Put some orange cones around all the areas where Cammy might get a boo-boo?

DM: That’s not a bad idea, actually.

DT: Bryan Weatherby’s forcing Stalker to break, but he just shoved the official away! Stalker takes charge … DEAR LORD WHAT A BOOT! A violent, vicious running boot, and Cameron Cruise just collapsed in a HEAP and rolled to the outside!

MN: Sweet Jeebus, he kicked him so hard that I felt it.

DM: No, that was me slapping you for stealing my popcorn, you son of a *****.

DT: Stalker slips to the outside, and if being trapped in the corner wasn’t bad enough for Cameron Cruise, now he’s half-conscious on the outside while this demented freak hunts him.

DM: Yeah, no buys.

DT: Cameron Cruise can barely get to his feet, but that’s just fine with Stalker … SHINING YAKUZA KICK! Stalker took advantage of Cruise’s semi-conscious state to to absolutely DESTROY him with that brutal running kick to the face!

MN: Okay, that time I definitely felt something.

DM: Yeah, Cam just launched a huge wad of spit at your face.

MN: Getitoffmegetitoffmegetitoffme…

DT: Reeves rolls back in to break the count, now back out to his ringside playground – and he stomps Cruise’s face into the mat!

DM: The pretty black mats are for falling, not for eating, Cammy.

DT: Stalker pulls Cruise to his feet … standing headscissors … no, don’t do this!

MN: Please, please do this!

DT: Piledriver on the floor … CRUISE SANDBAGS! He shoves Stalker away! Reeves fires right back … HIGH KICK –



DT: Stalker went for that knockout execution kick, but Cruise ducked and Stalker’s bad leg smashed right into the steel ringpost!

MN: Mirko Cro Cop-kicking the ringpost was a BAD idea.

DM: That wasn’t the idea, Neels, but … nevermind.

DT: Cruise rolls Stalker into the ring … the cover!



POINT FIVE! Stalker lifts the shoulders off the mat in the nick of time!

DM: Man, that was close! I didn’t think Stalker would be able to recover!

MN: And they pay you to be the wrestling expert? Fornicate me sideways.

DM: Aw, now I don’t even get to tell you that it’s a FAMILY SHOW!

DT: Stalker is limping BADLY trying to get to his feet, but here comes Cruise, who takes out the bad wheel with a kick! Cruise hooks the head … scoop … FALCON ARROW! Dropped Stalker straight on his head and neck!

DM: That could be just what Cameron Cruise needs to put this away!

DT: This could be it! Cruise grabs the leg … he’s setting up for the Figure Four!

MN: Ten minutes from now, when Cruise is still trying to figure out which way to spin, this will be the most entertaining thing EVER.

DT: Cruise grapevines the bad leg, but Stalker’s kicking away with his good appendage … and he caught Cameron square in the face! Stalker pops up … and nails a lariat as Cruise wobbled around the ring! He lifts Cameron up … inverted STO plants Cruise face-first on the canvas! Stalker rolls him over, hooks the leg…



NO! Cruise was stunned by that combination, but still managed to kick out!

DM: It’s a testament to the guts and heart of Cameron Cruise, Dave. He can take a hell of a beating and still hang with the best in the world.

MN: Yes to the first part, not so much to the second.

DT: Cruise trying to fight back to his feet, but Stalker clamps down a front chancery! He’s driving the good knee straight into the top of Cruise’s head … now he hooks the leg … FISHERMAN’S BUSTER!

MN: Yeah, take that, Fisherman!

DT: Stalker hops on top of Cruise, but he’s not going for the pin! He wants to lay in some more punishment, and he’s doing just that, UNLOADING on Cameron Cruise with punches from the mounted position!

MN: Please don’t talk anymore about someone mounting Cameron Cruise and unloading anything. I think I’m gonna spew.

DM: Not on this shirt, you won’t. This is custom-made Italian.

MN: No it’s not! I bought you that for your birthday, and I got it off the rack at ValueTopia!

DM: You lying son of a…

DT: Children, pay attention please.

DM/MN: Sorry, Davey.

DT: Stalker is absolutely BATTERING Cam Cruise with lefts and rights! Cruise is backing up … he’s under the ropes, and Stalker’s forced to break … HE JUST SHOVED BRYAN WEATHERBY AWAY AGAIN!

DM: Um, why is nobody calling for the bell?

MN: Dude, Bryan Weatherby is a total ENABLER. He’s just going to give him a stern fatherly look and let him go on his merry way.

DM: Did you just say “merry”?

DT: Cruise is hurt, but he’s to his feet … and he fires away with a chop! Stalker’s back with one of his own! Cruise! Stalker! Cruise! Stalker!

MN: Neely?

DM: Not again.

DT: Cruise with a chop! And another! One more … Stalker cuts him off with a kick to the gut! Off the ropes comes Jason Reeves … facebuster across the knee! He flows right through, hooks the head …

DM: Evenflow time?

DT: He’s got him set up for that DDT – NO! Cameron Cruise summoned whatever energy he had left and bulled Stalker into the corner! Cruise hooks the head … IMPACT DDT! The cover…



THR-NOOOOO!!! Stalker shoots the shoulder up! Cruise pulls him up … REALITY CHECK TIME! He grabs Stalker – who breaks away with elbows to the head! Stalker with the clothesline … Cruise ducks … into a backslide!



NO! Stalker presses away…


DT: OHHHHHH!!! Cameron Cruise just NAILED Stalker with a kick to the head! He scoops him up … SHIPWRECK! That’s gotta do it!

DM: He’s not going for the cover!

MN: Dumbass.

DT: Instead of going for the cover, Cameron Cruise is stomping away at Stalker’s damaged knee, trying to do as much damage as he can!

DM: It’s a little comeuppance for the guy who’s tried to destroy so many careers here in EPW.

DT: Cruise hooks the leg, steps through … FIGURE FOUR!!! He’s got it cinched in, and Stalker is absolutely HOWLING in pain!

DM: He can’t withstand this. Even someone as tough as Stalker has to give up, or else he’s not going to be able to stand on two feet for a long time.

MN: That’s a one-legged man I wouldn’t want to see in an ass-kicking contest.

DT: Stalker is fighting towards the ropes … but Cruise pulls him back! He’s in the center of the ring, and Stalker has nowhere to go!

MN: But, he won’t tap!

DT: This is unbelievable! Stalker’s knee may be damaged beyond measure, but he’s still fighting, and he’s not tapping!

DM: I can’t imagine what’s driving this man. This match is OVER, Dave, and I don’t think Stalker has any damn idea what he’s doing right now!

MN: He’s hurting. A LOT. How dumb can you be, Deanarino.

DM: Never call me that again.

DT: Stalker is trying to fight against the pain … IT’S OVER! IT’S OVER!

MN: What the hell happened!

DT: Stalker went completely limp, and Bryan Weatherby stepped in to put a stop to it! Cameron Cruise picks up a hard-earned win, but my GOD did Stalker make him fight for it. Despite a near-crippling knee injury, he still didn’t tap out!

MN: Yeah, but now he’s, like, dead, so big whoop.

TF: The winner of the match by referee stoppage due to a figure four leglock … CAMERRRROOOOONNNN CRRRRRUUUUUUUUUUUUUUISSSSSSEEEEEE!!!!!

DT: Stalker pulling himself up on the ropes now…and is it me or does he not look well?

MN: You mean other than Cameron Cruise pulling his knee out of socket?

DM: No, he’s right – he looks….he looks like he’s gonna…

[With that, a loud RHHAAAAWWGHHH precedes projectile vomit that catches Brian Weatherby right in the mush. Weatherby freaks out, screaming like a little girl and dives to the outside for a towel to wipe his face off.]

DT: My God, did Stalker just blow chunks in the middle of the ring?!

DM: Get someone to clean that up, for Christ’s sake!!

DT: UGH! We’ve gotta go to commercial. Folks we’ll get this cleaned up and be right back after this…



Sep 11, 1997
Katy, TX
Beginning and the End

The backstage door of the New Orleans Arena slowly opened as a large man carrying a bag across his left shoulder while holding a steel folding chair in his left hand stepped through. The African American man was bald with a thin goatee and a few scars on his face. His large frame had a few of the technicians fumbling over themselves getting a glimpse of the man as he walked through the backstage area.

The man walked with a purpose down the right hallway before stopping in front of a few of the backstage workers. His menacing frame made the workers very cautious as the man looked down at one of them.

???: Excuse me sir, Do you know where I can find the office of the EPW owner, Ms. Lindsay Troy?

The worker was taken aback by the polite and gentle nature this man was displaying. He pointed down the hallway before speaking.

WORKER: Yes, Ms. Troy’s office is the fourth door on the left down this hallway.

The large man nodded appreciatively before making his way toward Ms. Troy’s office. The workers started whispering as the man walked out of sight. One worker turned to the man who just sent this large, six-foot-eight human being to Ms. Troy’s office.

WORKER: I wonder what that monster wants to see her about.

The men went back to work as the mystery man continued to the Troy’s office, passing a few people on his way down the hall. He was getting strange looks and the ever popular finger pointing. But he was always used to that is whole life. He knew he was different but he was always told that there was something special about him and that’s why he was in the New Orleans Arena tonight.

He finally walked up the door with the name Lindsay Troy affixed to the door, courtesy of a glistening golden nameplate. The man took a deep breath before knocking on the door.

TROY: Come in.

The man opened the door and walked in, closing the door behind him as he looked on at the owner of the EPW and arguably the best woman wrestler alive today.

TROY: Have a seat. Thanks for coming in tonight... [Looking down at the papers in front of her] ...Omega? [Pause] That your real name?

Omega looked a little confused by the question.

OMEGA: Yes it is. Why do you ask?

TROY: Just wanted to know if it was one of those deals where you change your milquetoast 'John Smith' name into something... [Finger quotes] "edgy."

OMEGA [smirking]: I see. I really want to thank you, Ms. Troy, for giving me this opportunity to wrestle in your company. I will do my best to not let you down.”

Omega looked down at the steel chair he was still holding in his hand and whispered something to it. Troy's brow furrowed and, perplexed, she tilted her head to the side.

TROY: YYYYeah. Well, welcome to EPW and all that jazz. Take care, brush your hair, and try not to let the vets push you around too much.

OMEGA [shaking his head in agreement]: I understand what lies in front of me here in EPW, Ms. Troy. I have been in this business for a number of years and I welcome the new challenges.

Omega stood up to his feet to shake the hand of the EPW Owner before grabbing his things and walking to the door. Lindsay saw Omega place the chair to his ear as if he was listening.

TROY: Alright, I have to ask...what's up with the chair?

Omega looked at the steel chair in his hand, then back to Troy.

OMEGA: Whatever do you mean Ms. Troy? This is ‘Barb’ and she is my manager.

Omega sat the chair down by the wall and slowly walked toward Lindsay Troy before whispering to the EPW Owner.

OMEGA: Well, she thinks she’s my manager.

Omega smiled and waved to the EPW Owner before picking the steel chair up and walking out of the office. Lindsay suddenly heard a faint conversation outside of her door.

OMEGA: I wasn’t whispering to the owner about you. [Pause] I wouldn’t lie to you, Barb.

Troy shook her head in disbelief and pinched the bridge of her nose.

TROY: Is it Rum O'Clock yet?


Sep 11, 1997
Katy, TX
Cameron Knows the Muffin Man

[Fadein, Cameron Cruise's lockerroom, post-match after taking on "The Stalker" Jason Reeve. Cruise is talking to his Agent, an Intern coming from the Temp Agency on his Cellphone.]

Agent: Did it look that transparent??

CRUISE: Well no, but come on...something like that which happened in the ring reminds of something that happened to Dan Ryan some years ago...

A: You mean what Kin Hiroshi did??

CC: Exactly, now if I knew where he was I'd ask that Blueberry Bastard about it...

A: Why don't you ask him sir??

CC: I told you, because...

A: I have him on the other line, sir.

CC: Really??...uh, patch him through.

[A beat passes before the line is switched over.]


CC [lying..]: Budapest.

KIN: Ah, City of Cathedrals..

[The lockerroom door opens and in walks "The Muffin Man" himself, Kin Hiroshi, also with a Cellphone pressed to his ear.]

KH: Yeah, I see you on the bridge of the Danube, kid. I'd kinda like to talk to you.

CC: Well why don't you email me?

KH: I'd kinda like a one-on-one, face-to-face type of thing.

CC: Like do it personally??

KH: Yeah, I'd love to see ya.

CC: Alright, lets do it.

[Hiroshi walks another ten feet and extends for a handshake as Cruise does the same, both carefully watching the other in case one launches an unprovoked attack. Continuing...]

KH: How ya doin' kid, good??

CC: Good, good, good. how are ya??

KH: [Chuckles abit] Hey, Mental Telepathy, Astral Projection...

CC:...and here you are. What do you want??

KH: Woah, Grumpy Gus! Is that any way to treat your old pal, Kin?

CC: I asked you, what the hell do you want, Hiroshi?

[Kin takes a seat on the locker room bench opposite of Cruise.]

KH: You know, Cam, I used to work here and I figured I’d drop in and see how the boys are doing these days...

CC: That still doesn’t explain why you’re talking to me, or why my agent had you on the phone.

KH:…but then I saw you had a match with another one of my old friends, Stalker, and I just KNEW I had to pay a personal visit.

CC: But you're not just here on a personal visit, are you, Kin?

[Hiroshi tips his head back a second and closes his eyes. Taking a deep breath and sighs, gathering his thoughts a second he opens them again and looks back at Cruise.]

KH: There’s an old saying, Cam, one good deed deserves another…

CC: Kin…

KH:..and you’ve been holding that EWI title thing over my head for years…


KH:..and I really don’t like Stalker, so I decided to have a little fun…


KH:…so I pulled a ‘Dan Ryan’.

[Smiling, Kin stands, and leans against the lockers behind him, before pulling a muffin wrapper out of his pants pocket and tossing it on the floor at Cameron’s feet.]

KH: You remember that old trick, don’t you?

CC: I f**king knew it!

[Enraged, Cruise leaps to his feet and charges Hiroshi, pinning him against the lockers. Hiroshi, slightly distraught, wiggles free from Cameron, and starts backing away from him slowly. With his hands raised and tripping over the gear in the locker room, Hiroshi tries to explain himself.]

KH: Ya’ know, Cam, I was, uh, just trying to, err, pay you back! Yeah, pay you back that's it! And it, um, isn’t going as I thought, so maybe I should be going? Yeah, I think I should go. I should go.

[Before Kin can make it to the door, he trips and falls backwards, Cruise is on him in a heartbeat, and lifts him up by the collar of his shirt. Cruise cocks his hand back, as if to knock Hiroshi into the next year.]

CC: You dirty son of a *****, I could've beaten that punk on my own!!

KH: Cam, I mean, come on, we’re friends, right? At least, I thought we were friends, right? No use getting upset over spilt milk, or poisoned muffins! Now, if you’ll just let me go, I’ll give you a call when you calm down.

CC: Why the hell would I need your help, Kin?

[Cruise’s fist relaxes, and he pulls Kin to his feet, but still has him by the collar. Hiroshi, hands up in an ‘I Surrender, Please Take All The Money From The Register’, begins to grin from ear to ear.]

KH: I just figured you might want to try things a different way, that's all.

[Cruise finally lets go of Kin's shirt and brushes him off abit as he starts on an evil grin of his own.]

CC: Ya know something, Kin, that's one of the most brilliant ideas I've heard, lately.

[Clapping Cruise on the back and throwing an arm around him as they walk out of the lockerroom.]

KH: Those are the only kind I have.



Sep 11, 1997
Katy, TX
KING OF THE CAGE: Crimson Calling vs. Priest & Eisenkreuz


Winners: Priest & Eisenkreuz


Sep 11, 1997
Katy, TX
Aggressive Negotiations

[CUTTO: Somewhere dark, quiet, and secluded. Somewhere backstage. Cassidy Stewart sits, arms folded indignantly across his chest, in a worn, beaten, fold-out steel chair. His hair is tousled, tie rumpled and loose. Brow furrowed, sleeves rolled up near the elbows.]

CASSIDY: Ok. I've had just about enough to be honest with you. Let me out of here.

[Seated across from him, straddling the back of another dented steel chair, sat the Blue-Eyed Badass. The chair leg scraped the floor as he got to his feet, looming over Cassidy, casting an onyx shadow.]
TRIPLE X: You're acting like I'm holding you here against your will, like some kind of prisoner. You're not a criminal. You're a businessman.

[Stevens smirks.]

TRIPLE X: I don't know what the difference is, but ... I'm told there is a distinction.

[He'd had enough. With a sigh, Stewart rose to his feet, eyes turning to the closed door.]
CASSIDY: Your goons asked me here to discuss terms on "cooling tensions" between yourself and my Client, once and for all. I came here to hear you out. But like you said, Mr. Stevens. I am a businessman. And good businessmen don't make deals with men who use the word "lawsuit" in the first sentence of their proposal. Let ALONE a man who uses veiled threats and innuendo as a bargaining tactic.

[Triple X's smirk turned to forced disbelief.]

TRIPLE X: No. No, no, no. You came here to talk business, Cassidy. Yeah, I touched upon the basis for potential legal moves I could make against Tre -- and you -- for the THEFT of My Crown. But I think you mistook me. I'm not suing you.


["Planet Earth's Champion" took a deliberate step forward, closing the gap between the two men.]

TRIPLE X: There's no need. I'll have everything that belongs to me back in my possession before this night is through. The King of the Cage Crown that Ice Tre STOLE from me... *AND* the EPW World Championship that Lindsay Troy has held for f[BLEEPking ransom. One way. Or another.

[Gently, Trip placed a hand on Cass' shoulder and, just as gently, guided him back down to his seat.]

TRIPLE X: Take a seat, Stewart.


Sep 11, 1997
Katy, TX
Beast Can't See For Miles and Miles...

FADE: Beast walking through a locker room door in his street clothes, his eyes darting across a locker room angrily. Slung over his shoulder is his gym bag, which he tosses down on a nearby bench. Standing in place, he gazes around…

Beast: MILES! Are you in here!?

Beast doesn’t hear anything back, so he starts walking out of the picture. Just as he does, the door slowly closes behind him. As sounds from Beast off-camera are heard, the door knob starts to slightly emanate smoke. Beast echoes in the shower area, but then comes stalking into the scene while hacking out a couple of coughs. A piece of paper is slowly slid under the door as he approaches.

Beast: What the hell?

Beast starts waving the smoke away causing it to disappear and checks to see if the doorknob is hot. Feeling nothing wrong, Beast tries turning it, but it won’t budge.

Beast: What the f—NO.

Beast frustratingly and increasingly starts shaking the doorknob to the point he’d be trying to rip it out, then backs off with an incensed glare. He blasts the door with a violent kick!

Beast: NO!

Another kick!

Beast: F’N!

Another kick!

Beast: WAY!

Beast staggers away somewhat, the door locked on him. He walks over to the paper and picks it up, while also pulling out his cellphone. Beast starts reading it, while dialing…

Beast: Hey Miles…

Beast lowers the phone for a moment and closes his eyes slowly, then hangs his head. He shakes his head in disbelief that Miles was the mark, now its himself. Beast takes a slow breath and reads once more.

Beast: It looks like you’ve FALLEN and you CAN’T get out.

Beast blinks for a moment, taking in the statement and the endless possibilities. He quickly starts dialing his phone.

Beast: This cannot be happening. [Beast hears someone] D—Neely? What the hell? How’d you get his cellphone? [listens] What do you mean – you DON’T know? Stop bullsh—“

The doorknob starts shaking from the other side of the door.

Beast: If you hang up, I will find you…and HURT you.


Beast walks up to the door with a confused expression.

Beast: This place has door mechanics?

V/O:: Um, no…because then I could get in my locker room.

Beast: …Miles?

Miles: …Maaaaaaybe.

Beast: MILES!

Miles: Ok, ok…and you are?


There’s no sound for a moment. Beast waits and waits…


Beast: *******it Miles! Get me OUT!

Miles: Is your locker room open? ‘Cause nobody else is really getting into mine…seriously, how’d the f*ck you’d even DO this? I’d need a freaking chainsaw, welding torch and…


There’s a long pause again.

Miles: Well Beast, as long as we’re a tag-team that has to win tonight…I see the only option in front of me and I’m going to take it.

Beast: Wh—

Miles: First, I’m going out into the parking lot and finding someone that can drive me to Home Depot or a well-stocked neighborhood place of business that I need to find... then I’m going to give six drunken freaks backstage passes to the show, as well as the sledgehammers that I buy at the Home Depot. I might make a couple of side purchases looking at the landmines already being planted inside the foxhole intruded upon by a rightfully and righteously angered man. It’s apparently Sneak Attack, Swerve Attack and Beyond…I just don’t know if there’s enough time.

Beast: …are you high right now?

Miles: …so, I’ll be back. Worst gets to Worse…I know how to make homemade bombs, but I would make sure you’re in the shower areas before that.

Beast starts dialing on his phone…

Beast: Busy…you gotta be kidding.

There’s a couple slaps on the door.

Miles: Alright man, good talk! TO BIG RETAIL AMERICA! WHOOOOOOOO!


After a long period of silence, Beast’s eyes tightly squeeze down as he grits his teeth. His eyes flash open and he crushes the door with another violent kick with leaves a slight crack in it. He exhales with frustration, then starts dialing on his cell again.

Beast: Pick up, baby…pick up…


Sep 11, 1997
Katy, TX
KINGS OF THE CAGE: Second Coming vs. Craig Miles & Beast

[FADEIN: The ring, surrounded by the cage. Tony Fatora stands ready to introduce the combatants in the next contest.]

DT: “Well here we go folks, the big clash between Second Coming and the feuding duo of Beast and Craig Miles.”

MN: “Oh this is going be brutal, I can hardly wait for the injuries to pile up!”

[The ramp EXPLODES in fire as pyro goes off all over the ramp. CUEUP: “Sleep Now In The Fire” by RATM as Craig Miles steps out to onto the ramp, smoking as usual, a MILESwile grin on his face. Miles walks to the cage with a cocky swagger.”

TF: “Coming to the ring first…He hails from Seattle, Washington and weights in at 235 pounds…He is the Dean of Thermodynamics…COCKY!!! CRAIG!! MILES!!!!!”

[Miles basks in the boos of the crowd as he enters the cage and begins to stretch out.]

TF: “And his partner…He hails from Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada and weighs in at 287 pounds…HERE…IS…BEAST!!!!”

[Instead of the opening of “Ladies and Gentleman” there is silence, the crowd starts buzzing]

DT: “What’s going on here?”

DM: “I don’t know, maybe he got a flat tire, or he missed a flight.”

[Suddenly from behind the curtain rush forth Bryan Storms and Matt Johansson…Second Coming! Miles looks a bit stunned but then gets himself ready.]

DT: “Wait a second! Second Coming are charging the ring now, Beast hasn’t even made his way out here…Now they are in the cage. [Bell rings!] and I guess this one is underway.”

MN: “Miles better have eaten his wheaties today, cause he’s gonna need it!”

DT: “And it’s going to be Storms starting it off for Second Coming against Miles who appears to be flying solo…Miles kicks Storm in the gut and quickly bashes his head into the turnbuckle. Miles now THROWS Storm hard into the CAGE! Miles with a roll up!”



DT: “No! Storms out right at the count of two and he quickly makes the tag to Johansson who takes his time getting in the ring as Miles waves him on.”

DM: “Miles may act like an idiot, but he knows this game inside and out, he knew he had to go for a quick pin to win this match before Johansson could break it up.”

DT: “Miles now grabs Johansson and drills him with a series of punches to the gut, now an eye gouge stuns Johansson and Miles comes off the ropes…BIG CLOTHESLINE! Johansson quickly stumbles over to his corner and tags in Storms.”

DM: “Miles is making a real good showing so far, the question is how long can he keep this going against two men.”

DT: “Miles now in the corner of Second Coming and he’s hammering away on both of them with a series of right hands. Miles hammering away on both men…Storms staggers from the corner and throws a dropkick at Miles that sends him crashing head first into Johansson! Johansson hit’s the cage hard and Miles stumbles over towards Storm…Who CRUSHES HIM WITH A DDT!!! STORMS COVERS!!”



DT: “NO! Miles gets out at two and a half! Storms now putting the boots to Miles as he pushes him into Second Coming’s corner. Johansson now back on the apron after shaking off the effects of that dropkick…He now takes the tag and both men work Miles over with punches and kicks as the ref gives them a five count…Johansson now quickly tags Storms back in and they repeat the process again…Miles has fallen over from the corner and now is just laying on the mat as both members of Second Coming are stomping his guts out.”

MN: “This is going to be brutal, hell, this might get us banned from family hour programming for how horrific a beating Miles about to take!”

DT: “Miles now pulled to his feet by Storms who grabs him…BELLY TO BELLY SUPLEX! And the cover!”



DT: “No! Again Miles fights it off!”

DM: “I don’t know what side of the ‘brave/stupid’ line this falls on, but Miles is sure doing everything he can out here.”

DT: “Miles continues to be worked over by Storms who lifts him up and a SNAP SUPLEX! Storms with a tag to Johansson who drops an elbow on Miles and another one…Johansson tosses Miles into the corner and now unloads [Crowd starts ‘woo’ing!] with chops!

MN: “I know this is the King of the Cage and it’s supposed to be pretty brutal and all, but the ref should think about stopping this, Miles hasn’t done anything but get thrashed for as long as I can remember in this fight.”

DT: “Storms tagged back in and now Johansson whips Miles into the ropes…Drop Toe Hold by Johansson…BIG LEGDROP BY STORMS! And Johansson loves it, yelling at the crowd!”






DT: “Oh my! Craig Miles has done it! Somehow he’s just stolen this match from Second Coming!”

TF: “Here are your winners and advancing to the finals of the King of the Cage Tournament…”Cocky” Craig Miles, and Beast!!!”

DT: “Who even knows if Beast will show up for the finals, and I hope we get a word on the condition of Storms after he got hit with that fireball.”

DM: “Johansson had his back turned after the double team move and he never saw Miles throw the fireball.”

[Johansson, leaning over his partner staring up at Miles, grinning and backing his way up the ramp, cigarette dangling from one corner of his mouth.]

MN: “I hope it burned half his face off and he turns into a coin flipping serial killer.”

DT: “Oh lord…We’ll be right back after this!”


Sep 11, 1997
Katy, TX
EPW TV Title Match: Fusenshoff (c) vs. Nakita Dahaka

["Gently" by Slipknot ques up as the arena blacks out. A fog drifts out of the enterance way as Nakita Dahaka makes her way to the ring with a chorus of boos following her. Climbing into the ring she stares at the mat then out into the crowd with an evil glint in her eyes.]

MN: The Future Television champ right there!

DT: Well... Folks it's now time for our Television Championship match. As you can see Nakita is in the ring and ready to go.

["A little less conversation" by Elvis Presley comes on the PA and the fans jump up in cheers. Fusenshoff walks out from behind the curtains dragging the belt along as he does. He stares darts into the ring as he makes his way down and slides in, handing the belt to the ref he raises his arm in the air as he's ready to fight.]

DT: Fuse and Dahaka are staring each other down in mid ring. The ref holds up the Television title and rings the bell! Here we go!

DM: Fusenshoff is circling Dahaka while she just grins at him.

MN: That's the grin of a woman who knows she is about to get what she wants.

DT: We will see about that Mike. If the Fallen have anything to say about it, she will definitely be leaving tonight with the gold around her waist.

MN: Come on energy boy do something!

DM: Energy boy?

DT: Anyways.. Fusenshoff is still waiting for Dahaka to make the first move. She stares at him for a second more before.. wow.. like a bolt she darted at him and charged him straight into the corner with brute force! Dahaka wails at Fusenshoff with a few punches before leaning back and CRUSHING him with a right hand to the back of the head. Fusenshoff stumbles out of the corner as Dahaka smiles and looks on. Charging him from the back she BULLDOGS his head into the mat.

MN: Great start.

DM: Yeah well their is a reason why matches aren't decided in the first few seconds.

MN: Well mine certainly do! Go Nakita go!

DT: Guys.. seriously. Dahaka is quick to take control of Fusenshoff with an arm bar in the middle of the ring. I have a feeling she wants to break Fusenshoff down.

DM: It's the only way she'll have a chance.

DT: She is really wrenching that arm and Fusenshoff is trying his best to ignore the pain while he's pulling himself along the mat. Dahaka with a blow to the back of the head, she gets up still holding his arm... OH MY she just drove both knees directly into Fusenshoff's elbow making him yelp in pain.

MN: Keep it up Dahaka show the world why you deserve to be television champion!

DM: She looks ready to break Fusenshoff's arm. This definitely isn't the start he was looking for and Nakita is taking complete advantage of it.

DT: Picking Fusenshoff up by the arm now, she wrenches it around as she drives him back first into the corner. She flattens him in the corner with a stiff clothesline, she's now stepping through the ropes. Grabbing his arm again she stretches it out across the top... oh my... Fusenshoff falls over in sheer pain clutching his arm.

MN: Now that was pretty sick.

DM: Dropping off the side of the apron while holding his arm at the wrong angle... damn. That had to hurt.

MN: Dahaka is a BEAST. I keep telling you idiots but you never listen.

DM: Whatever, she's always a beast.. but she's a beast that can't get the wins that matter.

DT: She looks to be on track tonight. Sliding in she looks at Fusenshoff who is still clutching his arm in the corner. Walking over to him now, she stomps him, stomps his arm, his chest.. finally the ref breaks it up. Dahaka is furious at him, and pushes him to the side.

DM: That's cause for a warning right there and that's exactly what she's getting.

MN: Who cares. She's got this match in the bag.

DT: Dahaka lifts up Fusenshoff who nails her in the gut with a right that sends her stumbling back. He follows it up with a charging clothesline! He uses his hurt arm however and is still in pain. But he's pushing through it, pulling her up now he hooks Dahaka, SUPLEX. Quickly scooping her up again, he nails her with another!

MN: Suplex? That's the best he has to offer? How about he does something inventive like Nakita did?

DM: Mike.. shut your face.

MN: Good one.... NOT.

DT: Well yeah... Fusenshoff is now giving Nakita a dose of her medicine as his headlock has her scrambling to get free.

MN: Again.. be inventive.

DT: Hrmmm... Mike I could be wrong but I think he heard you.

DM: Yeah I think he did.

DT: Well you'll be okay Mike, Fusenshoff's the kind of guy that doesn't let stuff bother him.

DM: He's had enough of trying to wear her down, I think he's going to demolish her now.

DT: Picking Nakita up by her hair, Fusenshoff grabs a hold of her, hooks her, lifts her up with a hooked leg.... and holds her there?

MN: Wow Fisherman's Sup....... uhhh..

DM: Can you say, INVENTIVE?

DT: Folks.. wow, we sure hope you didn't miss that. A Sit out powerbomb delivered out of that... simply amazing. Fuse stands up over her and picks her up again, slings her into the ropes and she comes flying back but ducks his clothesline... he turns around right into a FLYING CROSS BODY! She hooks the leg.. 1...2....NO!

MN: See she has the upperhand still.

DT: Picking Fuse up now Dahaka sets him up for a piledriver.. but he refuses to go... he takes the legs from under her.. but she kicks him backwards and is quickly back on her feet. Fusenshoff comes charging in however but she ducks another clothesline attempt, spins him around.. kick... no Fusenshoff grabs her leg. Dahaka with an eye poke!

DM: Cheap!

DT: She follows it up with a clothesline. Dahaka is quick to capitalize on it and lifts Fuse up sending him down to the mat with a quick DDT. Dahaka with a leg cover.... 1......2....NO! Fusenshoff gets the kick out. Dahaka slaps the mat but continues none the less, dragging Fusenshoff to the corner.

DM: Looks like she's going aerial.

MN: Yup this is where it's over for the Champ.

DT: She sets herself atop the top turnbuckle and hooks Fusenshoff's head.... TOP ROPE TORNADO DDT!! Nakita.... slowly... gets the cover.... 1.....2...NO! Fusenshoff with another kick out!

DM: Dahaka is not happy about the count and letting the ref hear about it as she picks Fusenshoff up.

DT: She grabs him by the head and leads him over to the turnbuckle.. Fusenshoff pushes her off and face first into the corner, she spins around angry and charges at him, he ducks a right hand and counters with a right of his own! He grabs her arm and slings her across the ring, she bounces out of the corner and he catches her, BELLY TO BELLY SUPLEX!

DM: Got anything to say now, Mike?

MN: .....

DT: Fusenshoff looks ready to put a stop to this he lifts her up, kick to the gut, WHISKEY BOMB! Wow she is out cold after that move and Fusenshoff knows it. He hooks her leg this has to be over... 1.....2....NO! Last second kickout by Dahaka. Fusenshoff looks extremely surprised by it.

MN: Come on Nakita!

DT: Fuse picks Nakita up and pulls her to the center of the ring... he's setting her up for The Domination. Ohhh.. no.. a low blow out of nowhere. The ref didn't see it either. Fusenshoff stumbles backwards against the ropes as Nakita tries to regain her composure.


DM: Well.. well she sure knows how to hit a man where it counts.

DT: Yeah.. and finally she's up on her feet walking over to the doubled over Fusenshoff. She lifts him up by the head and drags him to the corner, hooks him in a bulldog she looks to be setting up her own finisher. Fusenshoff wraps his arms around her however and drives her face first into the turnbuckle!

DM: Fusenshoff is still dazed after being hit in the groin.

DT: Nakita slowly stumbles back into a waiting Fuse who spins her around... ANOTHER WHISKEY BOMB! He slowly gets over her for the count this has to be it... 1..........2......WHAT?!?


DT: Folks i'm not exactly sure what just happened her but it seems we have lost the house lights. NEELY STOP TOUCHING US DAMMNIT!

MN: But.. the lights... they need to come back on.

DT: They will... just calm down. I do see a lot of movement in the ring... wait... Stalker?!? Folks the lights are back and Stalker is staring at the back of Fusenshoff who is staring down at Nakita and a knocked out ref. She's grinning up at him and the fans are screaming at Fusenshoff to turn around. He does and Stalker is staring at him with a wicked grin of his own!

MN: Now this is what i'm talking about!

DM: OH MY GOD! What rotten bastards these idiots are.

MN: HAhah.. he got crumpled!

DT: In one swift motion, a still limping Stalker almost cleared Fuse's head off with the butt end of his cane while Dahaka took out his knees. Stalker now hobbles out of the ring and is grabbing the Television title. He comes back in and is standing over the fallen Fusenshoff screaming at him. He spits on the title and throws it down nailing Fuse in the face with it. The ref finally waking up rings the bell and DQ's Nakita who's smiling like a devil at Fuse.

[Stalker, looking down at Fusenshoff still starts to heave again…]

DT: Oh no no no….not while the guy’s incapacitated like that…

MN: I think I’m gonna be sick!!!

[Stalker regains his composure and Dahaka checks on him, helping him out of the ring.]

DM: Stalker and Dahaka are sending a clear message to Fusenshoff right now. But honestly their minds are so whacked I don't even know what it is…

MN: And someone get that man some Pepto Bismol for cryin’ out loud!


Sep 11, 1997
Katy, TX
Uncaging the Beast

FADE: Marcus Westcott, or for those more obliged, BEAST is rocking back and forth from a seated position on a locker room bench. He’s muttering under his breath, gritting his teeth and cursing as he looks at something off to the side of our view. He looks up in confusion as the crowd starts chanting “MIIIIIIIIIILES! MIIIIIIIIIILES!” like they did before. He heard it earlier in the night, followed by a massive amount of cheers…with a man like that, it could only mean that he was out of the King of the Cage tournament.

…Or possibly worse, he wasn’t.

Oddly or coincidentally, there’s this pulverizing drum of sledgehammers cracking against what sounds like splintering wood in the background.










MILES V/O: Hey…uh…Marcus…since I could only find some scrawny internet dweebs incapable of breaking down a door with sledgehammers, but pound a surprising amount of whiskey without thinking…well, I’ve decided to steal something from the local…pyrotechnics crew.

CUT-TO: Beast’s eyes bulge open as once again, he sees smoke billowing from the doorknob.

MILES V/O: I’d totally get behind a wall right now.

CUT-TO: Beast running into the back in panic as…


…with a LOUD clang and following crowd roar, Beast witnesses the doorknob ricochet near his feet and off two walls before spinning to a smoking stop near a shower drain.



Beast’s eyebrow arches in confusion as he comes running out of the back, looking to spear Miles in half. Unfortunately, he has to put on the brakes immediately because Miles has about 5 security guards on him, keeping him pinned to the ground. Miles has this huge smirk as some random fans sprint out of the picture. The crowd suddenly POPS! LINDSAY TROY IN THE HOUSE. Her eyes look exasperatedly down at Miles who isn’t fighting the guards, but simply smirking back at her. She pinches her nose and shakes her head…

TROY: Ugh. Don’t answer that. I already know the answer.

Troy looks up and now sees Beast…her face twitches briefly before her eyes widen.

TROY: …what are YOU doing…HERE?

BEAST: I’ve been here all night, someone locked me in thinking it was HIM! He’s known about it ALL NIGHT!

Troy whirls around to look back at Miles…

MILES: I know what you’re thinking…and I swear it wasn’t Phil that gave me a stick of dynamite. [wink, wink]

BEAST: After the last thirty minutes, I’m kinda thinking he’s dumb enough and it WAS him…he didn’t get anybody for help until AFTER our match.

TROY: Well, you did go in HIS locker room, Marcus. Are you seriously that stupid? Why haven’t you called anyone? Why haven’t I heard from you?

BEAST: I tried calling Thomas, but Neeley had his phone…I don’t have your number nor do I want to pay $4.95 a minute.

TROY: Oh, I'm sorry, are you still screwing the Chicken of the Sea can? I'm surprised Jessica's tuna hasn't rotted by now.

MILES: Can I go now, I don’t want to interrupt anyth—


Crowd mark. Beast and Troy? Not so amused. They wince and groan, start pacing and massage their temples. Miles starts standing up slowly, while EPW security surrounds him cautiously. Miles pulls out a lighter from his pocket and as he tries to light his cigarette, Troy immediately snatches it out of his hand.

TROY: Matches, thank you.

Miles smirks and obliges, pulling out a well-used book and striking one up. As he inhales his American Spirit, he starts nodding in approval.

MILES: I think its time to admit what’s going on right now.

BEAST: Thank…

MILES: There’s just a lot of love in this room.

BEAST: …you sonofa*****.

Miles walks over towards Beast making his way for a hug, but instead receives a violent shove into the corridor wall outside the charred doorway. Lindsay laughs out of frustration, but then realizes Miles is coming towards her for a hug. Shocked for a moment, Miles hoists her up!

MILES: Let the big guy see how you’ve just gotten all growned up!

Lindsay pushes him off, kicks Miles in the chest so hard that he caroms off the wall…all the while coughing from getting a face full of cigarette smoke.

TROY: Get him OUT of here! Follow him and make sure he gets in my office, sits down…and DOESN’T move until I get there.

Lindsay’s eyes stare straight into Miles’ sunglasses angrily as he gets dragged away and led off-screen. Strangely, Miles doesn’t say a word…he just takes a long inhale, while watching both without a smile. A stark contrast to his prior demeanor, which he accents with a waft of smoke exhaled towards both of them. Troy doesn’t stop watching until Miles is completely out of sight and then turns to face Marcus.

TROY: Why do you think someone wanted to lock HIM in?

CLOSE-UP: Beast doesn’t make a motion nor a noise for a brief moment, but just before Lindsay spouts off an eventual insult…he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a piece of paper and hands it to Lindsay.

BEAST: I can’t believe he’d go and throw a ******* match, then probably try to blame me…

Lindsay looks back at Beast confused for a moment, but then realizes that he has no clue what happened earlier in the show. She starts reading the note and purses her lips.

TROY: That’s Stevens and Dahaka’s signatures…where did you find this?

BEAST: Miles probably slid it under the door after he locked it.

TROY: He didn’t throw the match, Marcus…that’s the very least I could say from what I saw.

Beast laughs and shakes his head, but when Lindsay’s expression starts telling him to start thinking otherwise. He looks back at her in slight confusion…

BEAST: …what do you mean?

Lindsay squints back at him.

TROY: You really don’t know what you’re dealing with, do you?

BEAST: Don’t you mean who?


Lindsay closes her eyes slowly, then reaches behind her back and pulls out the walkie-talkie from her holster...She’s about to shout into it, but sees that its somehow already in talk mode.

TROY: …Miles flipped the switch, he just heard everything…


TROY: He won’t…oh Jesus Hell…

Before Beast can’t say anything, Troy runs out of the picture and starts barking into her walkie-talkie.



Sep 11, 1997
Katy, TX
Non-Title Match: If Tact Wins, Receives Shot at the IC Title - Tact vs. Douglas (c)

TF: This next contest is scheduled for one fall! First, making his way to the ring...
[The lights begin flickering WILDLY as the opening beats of "Pieces" by Hoobastank sound throughout the arena.]
[A BURST of black and gold pyro goes off as Larry Tact steps through the entrance, observing momentarily before heading down the ramp. Seeing a couple fans mouthing off along his way, he takes a moment to spit on his own hand before attempting to SLAP a couple fans across the face. Tact smirks, then proceeds to the ring steps and ascends them. He enters the ring and climbs a turnbuckle, pointing to himself and opening his arms to receive their reaction. Coming back down to the canvas, he stretches using the ropes, focused on his opponent.]
TF: Standing at six feet, six inches tall, weighing in at two hundred and sixty pounds! He is MANHATTAN, NEW YORK'S OWN ... LLLLAAAAAARRRRRYYYYYY TTTAAAAAAAAACCCCCTTTT!
[The lights dim.]
TF: And, his opponent...
[CUEUP: 'You Know My Name,' by Chris Cornell.]
[SFX: Three deafening canon blasts.
As the curtain opens, and Troy Douglas steps through, to a resounding ovation!]

TF: He is the current and reigning EPW Intercontinental Champion! TRRRROOOOOOYYYYYY DDDDOOOUUUGGGGLLAAAASSSSS!

[Douglas enters the ring and promptly scales a turnbuckle, pumping both fists into the air and getting a HUGE REACTION from the audience! He switches off to another turnbuckle for a SECOND BIG POP!! When his music ends, he hands the belt off to the referee and goes to his corner, stretching against the ropes.]

DM: This one is sure to be worth the price of admission alone. Both of these men are technically skilled superstars, and it'll be interesting to see who comes out on top here tonight!

DT: Last week, these men were partners, in an unsuccessful attempt at winning one of the sport's richest prizes the EPW tag team titles.Douglas enters the ring and promptly scales a turnbuckle, pumping both fists into the air and getting a HUGE REACTION from the audience! He switches off to another turnbuckle for a SECOND BIG POP!! When his music ends, he hands the belt off to the referee and goes to his corner, stretching against the ropes.

MN: It wasn't going to happen. The Forsaken are a unit. No team 'thrown' together at the last second will beat them to become EPW tag team champions. Ever. Under. Any. Circumstances.

DT: Okay, we get it, Neels.

MN: No. Chance. In. Hell!


DT: Both men meet in the center of the ring, for what is an intense collar-and-elbow tie up. Neither man gets the advantage here, as the referee steps in between the two in order for them to break. The two men circle, then lock up again. This time Troy Douglas has the strength advantage, bullying Tact into the corner! The referee calls for the break, and Troy Douglas obliges.

MN: He had a free shot to break his jaw, and he didn't. He's going to pay for that later. Mark my words.

DM: Why? Because he's not breaking the rules every chance he gets. I think breaking cleanly is admirable of the Intercontinental Champion.

MN: I think you're nothing more than a washed up has been, but I don't tell you, because you never asked me. Get my point?

DT: Both men meet in the center of the ring once more with yet another collar-and-elbow tie up, that has Lary Tact with the advantage this time. Tact drives Troy Douglas into the corner, as the referee once again calls for a break. Tact cooperates ... NO! Larry Tact connects with a jaw shattering closed fist that has Troy Douglas a little worse for wear!

DM: That was cheap, but Larry Tact has never really been known for playing it by the books one hundred percent of the time, so Troy Douglas should've expected that.

DT: Tact moves in... headlock... Troy Douglas sends him to the ropes, Tact returns, Douglas attempts a back body drop, Tact counters with a kick to the face as Douglas staggers, Tact charges in with a lariat! Troy Douglas is down, and Larry Tact goes for the quick cover... One! Tw- Shoulder up.

MN: How embarrassing would THAT have been for the Intercontinental Champion?!

DM: Ladies and Gentlemen, this coming from a man that has never stepped foot in a wrestling ring.

MN: Ladies and Gentlemen, this is coming from a man that has never had any SUCCESS in a wrestling ring.

DT: Gentlemen, gentlemen. Let's be professional. Both men are on their feet, Tact sends Troy Douglas to the ropes, he bounces off, returns, Larry Tact with a sleeper hold! He has that hold cinched in, and so far, this match has been all Larry Tact!

DM: I'm TRYING to be professional!

MN: And, what happened? Did Craig Miles turn you down?

DT: The referee's checking on Troy Douglas, as the crowd gets behind him. The referee raises one of Douglas' arms, and it falls. He raises another... this time Douglas shows life... he elbows Tact in the gut! Again! Tact's sleeper is loose... Douglas with a back drop! Douglas countered with a beautiful backdrop!

DM: Wrestling at it's finest.

DT: Douglas slowly makes it to his feet, so does Larry Tact... Troy Douglas moves in, kick to the gut... DDT-- NO! Tact held on to the rope, causing Douglas to hit the mat solo. Tact grabs both of Troy Douglas's legs, he front flips into a bridge! The referee drops down! ONE! TWO! Kickout by Troy Douglas!

DM: That was great wrestling by Larry Tact. Sometimes his antics can blind you of the fact that he's probably one of the best professional wrestlers in the world.

MN: Probably? He is.

DT: Both men are on their feet, Tact with a good right hand, Douglas is reeling, using the ropes to help him withstand the punishment. Tact sends Douglas to the ropes, Larry with a dropkic-- NO! Troy Douglas hung on to the ropes, and Larry Tact crashes to the mat! Troy Douglas wastes no time, he grabs his opponents legs, and hooks him into a Figure Four Leglock!

DM: Great counter, great strategy! Tact telegraphed that dropkick, and the Intercontinental Champion made him pay. Now he's going to ground him by taking out his legs! Smart move!

DT: Troy Douglas has the figure four locked in, and Tact is screaming!

MN: Wouldn't you? This move should be illegal!

DT: Troy Douglas is bouncing up and down, trying to break Larry Tact's ankle! If Tact can't walk, Tact can't win! Larry Tact is trying to use Douglas' momentum against him, but he doesn't have the strength, as both of his shoulders hit the mat. ONE! TWO! Tact sits up! But, look at his face! It's red!

DM: If Tact is smart, he might want to tap out! Live to fight another day is FAR better than a broken ankle!

MN: And, this is why you never made it in this sport.

DT: Larry Tact is trying to slide to the ropes... he inches over... YES! He reaches the ropes and the referee calls for the break. But, the damage is done. Troy Douglas is on his feet, Larry Tact uses the ropes as a crutch, he's in the corner trying to gather himself... BIG SPLASH! HE TURNS IT INTO A SCHOOLBOY! ONE! TWO! KICKOUT!

DM: Larry Tact is showing why he feels he's the best candidate for the number one contenders slot for the Intercontinental Championship.

DT: Douglas is on his feet, I think he's going to attempt to put his opponent in the Figure Four once again, yes... he is... Larry Tact counters kicking Douglas off of him, into the ropes... Douglas returns... SMALL PACKAGE! ONE! TWO! ......KICKOUT! WOW! That was close!

DM: Both men seem to be trying to get the quick and easy pin. It says a lot about what they think of the other persons chances of hurting you are, if you're trying so hard to beat them early.

DT: Tact's struggling to get to his feet. Douglas is up, he charges... TACT COUNTERS! Jumping Knee Lift! Douglas HAS to have a broken jaw!

DM: And, I wouldn't be surprised if Tact has a broken ankle. Look, he's in JUST as much pain as his opponent!

DT: Both men are hurting, Douglas' jaw, and Tact's knee. They slowly make it to their feet... Douglas moves in, Larry Tact connects with a SPINEBUSTER! Wow! Where did THAT come from?!

DM: The Intercontinental Champion is being sent a message today. Tact's come to play.

DT: Indeed he has. Troy Douglas isn't the Intercontinental Champion for nothing, though. He's already on his feet, staggering in Larry Tact's direction... ANOTHER Spinebuter!! Tact with a cover... ONE! TWO! THR-- KICKOUT!

MN: Douglas should've stayed down. This is a non title match. His paycheck and travel arrangements don't change if he loses tonight.

DT: You are such a hypocrite. Didn't you just call me a quitter when I suggested someone tap out?

MN: But you were a wrestler, I wasn't.

DT: Tact is on his feet, he lifts Douglas up... OVERHEAD BELLY-TO-BELLY SUPLEX! Troy Douglas landed on his head! He could've suffered serious damage the way he landed. Tact's back up, he's like a man possessed, he lifts Douglas up, using a handful of hair, kick to the gut, he bounces off the ropes... SWINGING NECKBREAKER!

DM: Larry Tact really wants this thing, and this is what the wrestling industry has been missing as of late. It's about the competition, the glory, the reward!

DT: Troy Douglas is down, but he's showing signs of life. Larry Tact yanks him by the neck to his feet, which folks, I can tell you, hurts like hell. Tact hooks Douglas by the neck, he lifts him up, he's going to attempt a suplex! NO! Douglas counters, he uses his waist and momentum to do a full flip, he's now behind Tact, INVERTED DDT! What a counter!

DM: We know it, these fans know it, and most importantly... he knows it. Douglas drops down for the cover... ONE! TWO! KICKOUT!

DT: Douglas has his second wind, he hooks Tact by the head... lifts him up... BRAINBUSTER! OUCH! Larry Tact landed RIGHT on his head! Douglas with another cover.. ONE! TWO! KICKOUT!

MN: It's going to take DEATH to stop Larry Tact of accomplishing his goal.

DT: Well, that just may come to pass. Tact is down, Douglas is going for the ropes. He scalees the turnbuckle, looks down at his fallen opponent... FLYING LEGDROP! He connects! Douglas with the pin... ONE! TWO! THR—KICKOUT!

DM: WOW! Douglas connected with a dead on flying legdrop that landed right on Larry Tact's neck! Tact, still with the wherewithal to kick out, even though I'm fairly sure he can barely breathe!

MN: And, let me guess. You know this because you ... felt it, right? Well, let me ask you a question, we're always hearing about how bad something hurts, from your experiences as a "wrestler", when have you EVER dished out any punishment?

DM: I can start today if you'd like?


DT: Troy Douglas is up, he uses a handful of hair to lift up the seemingly unconscious Larry Tact, who is completely defenseless at the moment. Douglas with a forearm! And another! Tact can't even defend himself! Kick to the gut, ACE CRUSHER! Troy Douglas connected with an Ace Crusher! This should be it!

MN: It should be, it's not. Tact's come too far to let it all slip away.

DM: We know, you've reminded us.

DT: Troy Douglas SHOULD be going for a pin right now, but he's opting instead to take it to the ropes one more time. Douglas scales the turnbuckle again ... He lines Tact up, who's still not moving ... SENTON! TACT MOVES! HE WAS PLAYING POSSUM!

DM: I'm sure he wasn't completely playing possum, but he most certainly played his opponent for a fool.

DT: Douglas' backside is hurting... He's holding it in excruciating pain! He's immediately leaps to his feet, Tact is up too! T-BONE SUPLEX! LARRY TACT CONNECTS WITH A DEVESTATING T-BONE SUPLEX! THERE'S THE COVER! ONE! TWO! THR—KICKOUT! WOW!

MN: That referee is SLOW!?! He should be FIRED!

DM: I, like Neels, most certainly thought this one was in the books.

DT: Tact is on his feet, Douglas in on all fours, Tact takes a few steps back, and charges in... PUNT TO THE HEAD! Troy Douglas is ... OUT!

DM: Tact nailed him good, right on the temple. I don't care how big you are, strong you are, a direct kick like that will have you seeing nothing but black. It's academic from here.

DT: The referee drops down for the count.




DM: I am at a loss for words!

MN: Me too.

DT: I wouldn't put the notion that Troy Douglas may have a concussion to rest, but we now understand just why that young man is the Intercontinental Champion. He is tough as nails!

DM: But, Tact is ... tactical. He's cerebral. He's not done.

DT: Larry Tact raises the lifeless body of Troy Douglas, which in itself, has to be draining. It's almost like lifting dead weight.

MN: Douglas IS dead weight, I've been saying it since he's been on the roster.

DT: Neely, even YOU don't believe that. Tact has Troy Douglas on his feet... Snap Suplex! Wait, he's hanging on, another! He swings his legs over for the pin... ONE! TWO! THR- KICKOUT! Larry Tact looks frustrated.

DM: And, he should BE. He's thrown everything but the kitchen sink at Douglas, and Douglas still won't go away. And, get this? This is the NON TITLE match! How would he be able to handle the champ in a title match?

MN: The same way he's handling him now.

DT: Tact moves in, with a handful of hair, he lifts Troy Douglas up, SMALL PACKAGE REVERSAL! ONE! TWO! THREE-- NO! TACT KICKS OUT! That was close! Troy Douglas came out of nowhere with that small package!

DM: Never count the IC champ out, that's for sure.

DT: Both men are on their feet, Larry Tact has a little more of his wits about him, he charges with a clothesline, Douglas ducks, Tact spins around, and is met with a SUPERKICK BY TROY DOUGLAS! Douglas with the cover... ONE! TWO! TH-KICKOUT!

MN: Oh my GOD! C'mon Larry! You can do it!

DM: That superkick landed on the button of his chin! Tact is lucky to not have a fractured jaw!

DT: Douglas is using the ropes to rest, Tact slowly wobbles to his feet, Douglas carefully moves in... Side slam! And, Tact is back down! And Douglas is on top swinging and connecting with rights and lefts!

MN: HEY! Closed fists! ...They ARE still illegal right?!

DT: Douglas is up, he raises Tact up as well, hooks his head, DDT! The referee is down for the count... ONE! TWO! THREEE!!!!!!!!


DT: Douglas can't believe it! He's on his feet yet again, determined to finish his foe off. He's scaling the ropes, these top ropes haven't been kind to these two young men today. Larry Tact is showing signs of life, as Troy Douglas attempts to climb the ropes! Both men are struggling to get to their positions... Douglas is up top, but Tact is on his feet! Larry Tact charges and shakes the ropes and causes Troy Douglas to stumble!

DM: Ouch! Douglas landed in the worst place for a man to land!

MN: How would you know? You're not a man!

DT: Douglas lands on his genitals, and he's stunned... LITERALLY! Larry Tact hooks Douglas by the head... SPIKED DDT! TROY DOUGLAS' NECK MAY BE BROKEN! Larry Tact is exhausted, it took everything in him to counter and execute that maneuver! He drapes his are over Troy Douglas' fallen body!






DT: This is highway robbery! Larry Tact fought his heart out, and probably DID deserve to win this match, BUT Troy Douglas' leg was underneath the ropes, and the referee didn't notice!



Sep 11, 1997
Katy, TX
Lookin' for Cassidy

[CUTTO: A closed door EXPLODES open! The Preeminent Pimp of the 21st Century bursts into The Fallen's lockerroom like an awkward Navy SEAL; a baseball bat swinging wildly in his hands.]


[After another moment or two of futile flailing, Tre registered that he was alone, the lockerroom abandoned.]

ICE TRE: Where y'all foolz at?

[Another note on another table. Tre undid the straps on his baby-blue bulletproof jacket and dropped it to the floor along with the bat. He snatched the note and read it aloud.]

ICE TRE: "Bring YOURSELF and the CROWN down to the ring. Tonight. NO GAMES."

[Tre processed it, crumpled the page, and tossed it aside.]

ICE TRE: Don't you KNOW?

[He bounded out the door with as much fanfare as he could muster.

ICE TRE: Tre Don't PLAY!

[CUTTO: Ringside.]


Sep 11, 1997
Katy, TX
EPW World Championship MAIN EVENT: "Triple X" Sean Stevens vs. JA

[As we return from commercials, the camera is on the commentary table. Dave Thomas bears a stone-cold sober expression as he introduces the next match, the main event of Aggression.]

DT: Ladies and gentlemen… in the four years since Aggression has been the flagship for EPW, I have sat at this commentary table, having a front-row seat to some of the most brutal, emotional, and memorable main event matches. But TONIGHT, for the FIRST TIME in Aggression’s history, a member of our roster will be crowned the new World Heavyweight Champion!

DM: And what a main event this is going to be, Dave! The recently dethroned King of the Cage, “TRIPLE X” Sean Stevens, going head-to-head with “The Anglo Luchadore” Jericoholic Anonymous, with the vacant EPW World Heavyweight Title on the line! You’d think a match like that would belong on the top of a card at a Pay Per View event like Wrestleverse or Black Dawn… but no, all of these fans in attendance, and the millions more watching at home, are going to watch this go down tonight!

MN: Oh yeah, it should be a great match, and everything… but I think you guys are missing something important here. Technically, this match SHOULDN’T be taking place! “Triple X” Sean Stevens should be the RIGHTFUL champion, and JA has done NOTHING to earn a shot at the belt!

DT: Bullcrap!

DM: Mike, do you hear what you’re saying? You see these fans waiting for the action to start? Do YOU want to be the one to tell Joe Everyman at home with his family that he can’t bear witness to a showdown of such MONUMENTAL and HISTORIC magnitude, just because of some legal technicality?!

MN: Well, rules are rules! That’s why they were written! Come on, Dean, you’re like a walking, talking professional wrestling rulebook! You should know and understand this better than anybody else here!

DT: To hell with the rules! Empire Pro didn’t get where it is today by following the conditions and doing what’s been done before over and over again until the fans were sick of seeing it. Champion or not, I don’t think there’s anyone who would say beyond a shadow of doubt that Sean Stevens wouldn’t eventually be walking into this very match with this very opponent! You can talk about technicalities all you want, Neely, but as for myself, Lindsay Troy, and all the fans who are about to watch this all-out war take place, we’d rather see the prestigious World Heavyweight Title decided by PINFALL OR SUBMISSION rather than legal mumbo jumbo!

DM: Amen to that!

MN: Whatever…

[The ring bell chimes three times as the camera cuts to TONY FATORA, in his best suit, standing in the middle of the ring with the microphone in his hand.]

TF: Ladies and gentlemen… it is time for our MAIN EVENT of the evening!

[POP from the fans!]

[…and the arena goes BLACK!!]

[SFX: The booming of thunder and lightning… the clomping hooves of steeds and the sound of chariot wheels digging through the earth… the cacophony of steel on steel, occasionally piercing the flesh, followed by the SCREAM of a man as his blood falls upon the sand…]

“…And the prophecy read that one day, like The Phoenix that rose from the ashes, that a boy would be born unto a family in the slums!”

[CUT TO: EMPIRE-tron. …as several images flash starting with an up-close photo of a blue-eyed baby – crawling, playing football, and basketball… signs of a proud and successful life in the dog-eat-dog world of athletic competition.]

“This boy would go on to use the knowledge he gained, while fighting for survival in the streets to become a great leader!

[CUT TO: Several more images. The first was an older Sean Stevens, in amateur wrestling gear; in a cap and gown – signifying graduation. The scene then shifted to Sean in the audience, in what looked to be a wrestling arena, before cutting to the final image of Sean, in the middle of a death defying leap from a forty-foot high camera tower, as his foe – below – laid unconscious.]

“And in time that boy would grow to become … a King.

[CUT TO: The very last image. One of "Triple X" Sean Stevens in the center of the ring, being handed a crown, tired, sweaty, yet triumphant.]

[Suddenly, the EMPIRE-tron faded to black. And, for a moment, there was nothing but silence…]

“Time to ride, N[FCC]GGA…”

[BOOOOOOOOM~!! Triple sets of fireworks in the shape of an X shoot to the roof, as "King Back" by TI blasts over the PA system, and “TRIPLE X” SEAN STEVENS steps through the curtain. He is immediately met with a chorus of boos – that he ignores – as he makes his journey to the ring, in a 100% cotton “‘Triple X’ Sean Stevens – The Once and Future King” t-shirt, complete with a XXX-caliber sword motif on the front, with black and silver tights, and a pair of millionaire "Gucci" sunglasses, which had minor drops of water on them, from his soaked light brown locks. He briefly pauses on the ramp to thrust BOTH arms into the air, making a rudimentary X shape with his body, in a pose with such pomposity that it only incites the fans’ ire. Accompanying him to the ring, flanking either side, are JASON “STALKER” REEVES—limping slightly more than normal—and “THE DARK PHENOM” NAKITA DAHAKA! With them is a man looking bruised and scuffed up, held firmly by the collar and led to the ring by Dahaka.]

DM: The King of the Ring… the once EPW World Heavyweight Champion… GRACES the ring with his presence, in a seeming Zen-like state of absolute focus! He looks positively ready to take that title back!

MN: That man right there IS the rightful EPW World Champion! He’s taking nothing back but what’s already his!

DT: Wait a second, that other man on the stage… is that… CASSIDY STEWART?!

DM: Why… you’re right, Dave! It is!! Stewart was apparently kidnapped by the Fallen earlier in the show, and now they’re leading him to the ring!

DT: What is the meaning of this?!

MN: Well, you can’t very well tie him up and stuff him in a locker! Somebody might find him! You gotta keep an eye on a kidnap victim at all times!

DT: “Triple X” Sean Stevens’ behavior is just becoming more and more unusual since his loss at Black Dawn. He starts up this bizarre affair with Nakita Dahaka, he nearly ends the career of the man who beat him, and now this senseless kidnapping of Cassidy Stewart, just like Paul Freeman at the last Aggression! I don’t understand WHAT Stevens’ sees in bullying the defenseless and parading them out to the ring like this! It’s humiliating and wrong!

MN: Just as humiliating and wrong as it was for Lindsay Troy to DENY Stevens his title and set this match up!

DM: You know, I hate to admit it, but Neels has a point. Regardless of how heartless and inhumane “Triple X” Sean Stevens can be, when you cut to brass tacks, he does have a legitimate claim to that title. Everything he needs to back that up is there in black and white.

MN: Makes you wonder why he just didn’t sue the pants off that shrew in charge and put that belt right around his waist where it belongs without even needing to lift a finger.

DM: It’s because Stevens feels he can prove his loss of the title was no fluke. Love him or hate him, that man is 100% professional wrestler.

DT: Regardless, a great athlete is not always a great man. And I don’t think for a second that Stevens has full control of his mental facilities…

MN: What are you talking about, Dave?! Sean Stevens is a multi-promotional World Champion, a ring veteran with a decade’s worth of experience, who has conquered some of the greatest names in the sport… and you’re questioning his MANHOOD?! Simply put, that man is the PRIME EXAMPLE of professional wrestler!

DT: I don’t care HOW great of an athlete he is! This man has attacked the defenseless without mercy or provocation, stabbed allies in the back, and cut every throat in his way to the top of the professional wrestling world!

MN: And you don’t see the BRILLIANCE in that?!

DT: No, Mike… all I see is inhumanity and malice. A man like that doesn’t belong in a professional wrestling ring.

[Ignoring the cat calls and flash bulbs, Stevens doesn’t acknowledge anything or anyone 'til he enters the ring, and hops on each of the four turnbuckles, thrusting his arms in the air victoriously. Joining him in the ring is the rest of the Fallen, bringing Stewart with them, who frequently mouth off to the jeering ringside fans.]

DT: I see he didn’t come without his entourage, the Fallen!

MN: Well come on, Dave, he’s like a leader to them! They’re just out here to see the figurehead of the Fallen reclaim the strap that was so unjustly taken from him!

DM: “Unjustly?!” He was pinned clean in the middle of the ring!

DT: Either way, I don’t think Stalker and Nakita Dahaka are out here just to give their support. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if they got involved in this match on Stevens’ behalf!

MN: Now why in the hell would you make such a gross accusation?!

DM: Come on, Mike! If I had a dollar for every time Stalker’s poked his nose in a match, I wouldn’t be sitting here with the two of you!

MN: You wouldn’t be in the ring either, for that matter.

DM: Don’t start with me, Neely!

[Stevens removes his t-shirt and tosses it into the audience, where it is immediately torn to shreds—either in hate or fawning adoration, we may never know. He paces with anticipation in his corner in the company of Stalker, Dahaka, and the out of place Stewart… when the arena again goes to BLACK…]


[Intro riff to “EAT THE RICH” by FOZZY hits the PA, and the crowd reaction is INSTANEOUS!! Fans LEAP to their feet in screaming hysteria as the house lights go to black and multi-colored lights flash in unison to the driving bass rhythm that begins the song.]

[As soon as the song moves into its first verse, the EmpireTron pops to life, revealing the various limbs of a faceless figure as he adorns himself in wrestling gear.]

“I've been down, I've been beat
I've been tossed into the street
Making nickels, begging dimes
Just to get my bottle of wine”

[He slaps on a pair of wristbands… pulls up a pair of spandex tights… laces up a pair of boots… and finally, with the camera panning up the man’s toned back, a hair-covered crest rises, and is immediately concealed beneath a mask that covers the entire head. Tightening the straps on the back of the mask to finish the job, the camera suddenly ZOOMS OUT to reveal a dramatic back shot of THE ANGLO LUCHADORE standing with spread legs and arms and shaking with TREMENDOUS energy!!]

“Some say Life, she's a lady
Kind of soft, kind of shady
I can't tell you Life is rich
She's no lady, she's a *****!”

[BOOMS!! peal through the air like a machine gun as a volley of rockets streak from the stage to the illustrious display of COLORED EXPLOSIONS at the top of the arena! The fans POP as the screen goes to BLACK and the entry-way LIGHTS UP, revealing the silhouette of the same LUCHADORE in the exact same position!!]

“They suck my body out
But then there is no doubt
Gonna pay the devil his dues
Cause I'm so sick of being abused


[Pumping his fist in a FRENZY, JAY AYE spins around into a righteous pose as he presents himself to the sea of CHEERING FANS!!]

Don’t you know that life is a *****

Out of the palace and into the ditch!”

[True to his always electrifying charisma, JA’s mere PRESENCE keeps the crowd roaring with passion as he paces the length of the stage and gets the fans popping like crazy!! Moments later, Lollipop joins him on stage, waving to the audience.]

DT: THE ANGLO LUCHADORE IS HERE!! And just LISTEN to the ovation this man is getting!

DM: Without a doubt, Jericoholic Anonymous has been the HEART AND SOUL of Empire Pro, and these fans are letting him know that HE carries their hopes and dreams on their shoulders!

MN: To bad they’re banking on a man who’s doomed to FAIL…

DT: Wait a second, looks like JA is motioning for somebody in the back…

DM: Who is he—


[The fans POP WILDLY as two familiar figures emerge on the stage and stand alongside the man who called them out only a moment ago!]

DT: It’s TROY DOUGLAS and FUSENSHOFF!! JA has brought out the Intercontinental and TV Champions respectively to accompany him to the ring!

MN: Oh, what the hell!? These guys have no business being out here!!

[Mirroring Mike’s sentiments, the camera briefly cuts to the ring, where the Fallen, particularly Stalker and Nakita Dahaka, argue with the referee about this unforeseen turn of events. Sean Stevens, not for a moment losing his cool even amid a sea of screaming fans, watches the stage with some interest, but shows no distinct emotion.]

DM: You know, Neels, I’d say the same thing about Stalker and Dahaka. THEY have no reason to be out here either.

MN: No, you see, Stalker, Dahaka, and Steven comprise the Fallen. But Douglas and Fusenshoff have NOTHING to do with JA!! I call shenanigans!!

DT: Pipe down, Neely! Obviously, the Anglo Luchadore has appealed to these two EPW Champions for their support. Against an unpredictable troop like the Fallen, and with the WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT TITLE at stake, JA isn’t taking ANY chances! Not to mention, I’m sure the Television Champion is looking for some payback for that unprecedented attack earlier in the evening!

[Slapping hands with the fans, the Empire Pro Alliance of JA, Douglas, and Fuse stride down the rampway, tailed by Lolli. The three men slide into the ring at once and a STAND-OFF ensues with the members of the Fallen, who stiffen themselves, ready for a fight. Idle trash talk commences, drowned out by “Eat The Rich” as the song continues to blare over the PA. Senior official Pat Jones keeps the peace between both sides, and JA uses the opportunity to scale a turnbuckle and POSE~!! for all the adoring fans in attendance, setting off a strobe of flash photography from that corner of the arena!]

DM: You can talk all you want about all the hardships other competitors have had to overcome… whether it was Lindsay Troy breaking through the gender barrier, or Rocko Daymon breaking through the proverbial glass ceiling… I don’t think ANYBODY in Empire Pro has overcome more than THAT MAN!

DT: I don’t think there would be many who would argue that point, Dean! When you think of everything JA’s had to put up with just to EARN this title shot, such as his shortcoming in the epic finals of the King of the Cage, or his number one contender position being lost thanks to interference and controversy, it’s amazing to see that’s he’s kept his poise and persistence through every ordeal, tirelessly BREAKING HIS BACK to put himself in THIS position!

MN: Yeah, right, a position given to him because Lindsay Troy had a little sand in her taco and didn’t want to see the title go to the RIGHTFUL champion… and JA just happens to be the only guy left on the roster talented enough to have a somewhat interesting match with Stevens.

DM: You’re wrong there, Neels.

MN: Oh, am I? Then explain to me, Dean-O, just WHY JA’s never been able to BEAT Sean Stevens in the EPW ring?!

DM: Come on… nobody’s immune to defeat! Even big, bad SEAN STEVENS was beaten! Otherwise, he wouldn’t be here tonight trying to win that belt back!

MN: Stop beating around the bush and answer my question!

DM: Well… I can’t explain that!

MN: EXACTLY!! So you admit that I’m right!

DM: I never said that! Yes, JA’s never been able to overcome Stevens in an EPW ring, but if you weren’t so BLIND to a man with the TALENT and DRIVE of JA, maybe you’d understand that historical statistics mean absolutely JACK in the present, and the Anglo Luchadore will do everything in his power to prove that to be nothing short of the truth!

DT: So much is riding on the shoulders of Jericoholic Anonymous tonight! His rivalry with Sean Stevens has come to a head here tonight at Aggression, and now he has the chance to compete with the Blue-Eyed Badass with the World Title on the line! Tonight’s main event will determine if the Anglo Luchadore can overcome the very man he hasn’t been able to beat in Empire Pro, and solidify himself among the select few who carry the prestigious distinction of being an EPW World Heavyweight Champion.

TF: Ladies and gentlemen… welcome to the MAIN EVENT of Empire Pro Wrestling’s Aggression 38, here live in “THE BIG EASY” New Orleans, Lousiana!!

[POP from the hometown fans!!]

TF: The following match is scheduled for one fall with NO time limit, and for the vacant EPW WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT TITLE! The referee in charge of the action, EPW senior official PAT JONES!

[Cut to Pat as he briefly raises his arm to little to no reaction from the fans, completely fixated on the two competitors standing face to face in the middle of the ring.]

TF: Introducing first, fighting out of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania… he stands at six feet tall, and weighs in at 219 pounds… he is a former EPW INTERCONTINENTAL CHAMPION… he is “The Guru of Gimmick Infringement”… “the AYATOLLAH of MICHAEL COLE-AH”…


[TREMENDOUS pop from the fans as Jericoholic Anonymous pumps his arms into the air.]

TF: And his opponent… hailing from Orlando, Florida… standing at six feet, two inches, and tipping the scales at 243 pounds… he is the FORMER EPW WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION… the 2007 FWrestling Wrestler of the Year… the EPW King of the Cage… “The Blue-Eyed Badass”… “PLANET EARTH’S Champion”…


[The Yin to JA’s Yang, Stevens’ announcement gains a FLOOD of boos from the fans as he stands with his hands on his hips, smirking slightly at the crowd reaction. Pat Jones immediately gets to work, ordering both men in their corners and shooing the non-combatants from the ring, and makes his final checks on both competitors. The camera takes a few quick pans of the anxious audience, screaming with anticipation. We see a plethora of signs: “Sean Stevens SUXXX!”… “WWJAD?”… “Where’s your crown, King NOTHING?!”… “EPW is JERICOHOLIC!!”]

DT: The last time these two met in the ring was at the joint Pay Per View WrestleSTOCK, in the King of the Cage finals! It was a long, costing battle between both men, but in the end, it was Sean Stevens who escape the cage, and moved on from being the King of the Cage to earning his first EPW World Heavyweight Championship!

MN: Which is ONE MORE than what JA’s ever accomplished!

DM: That may change tonight! JA has the opportunity in front of him to claim his spot at the top of EPW, which he’s been working toward for years, and Sean Stevens is wanting to reclaim is throne and title as EPW’s King!

DT: One of these two men will inherit the Empire tonight!

[With his final checks made, Jones signals to the time keeper…]



[The fans CHEER with excitement, and right on the onset, JA and Stevens walk to the center of the ring, standing so close their heaving chests nearly touch, inaudibly exchanging impolite words to each other. The fans around the arena begin to chant in booming unison…]


DT: You could just cut the tension in the ring with a knife right now! Both rivals standing face to face, waiting for the other man to make the first move!

DM: I don’t know what they’re saying to each other, but I doubt I’d even care to repeat it even if I DID know!

DT: “Triple X” Sean Stevens, tonight without his trademark arrogant smirk… OH MAN, and he just BLASTS JA out of nowhere with a right-handed slap to the face!


DM: A physically insignificant, but mentally unhinging blow! Stevens is a MASTER of getting under one’s skin, and he may be trying to do that now with—oh wait, what’s this?! JA recuperating, and standing his ground!

Crowd: *POP~!!*

DM: JA’s pointing to his other cheek…

DT: He’s telling Sean Stevens to BRING MORE OF IT!!

MN: Heh heh… no problem for Trip! Look at that smile on his face!


DM: JA was asking for that one, but… no, he’s STILL standing tall, and telling Stevens to BRING IT once again!!

Crowd: *POP~!!*

MN: Is he just TRYING to get his ass kicked?!

DT: Stevens looks absolutely SMUG at the sight of JA’s courageous resilience… and here comes a THIRD—OH NO, BLOCKED by JA, who opens up with a FLURRY OF JABS into the face of the unsuspecting Sean Stevens!!

Crowd: *PAAAAAWP~!!!*

DM: Looks like JA really turned the tables there! He let Stevens get away with his own arrogance, and led him right into that counter! JA’s going HAYWIRE with rights and lefts… but here comes Stevens with a few shots of his OWN!!

MN: Oh, he’s PISSED now!! JA should’ve just taken those slaps and left with the humiliation, but now he’s asking to have his CAREER ENDED, just like that other chump!!

DT: It’s an all-out BRAWL in the middle of the ring right now as JA and Sean Stevens go toe-to-toe with a flurry of strikes!! Referee Pat Jones isn’t intervening, and I don’t think he’d WANT to get between these two right now!!

DM: There’s so much pent-up animosity coming out right now as both men drive their knuckles into each other’s faces!! Neither one of them is letting up!

MN: Come on, Trip, don’t let this masked creep show you up! Show him who wears the GOLD in this company!!

DT: Wait a minute, there’s Stevens with a HAYMAKER that leaves JA reeling… and now “Triple X” is gaining the upper hand in this fracas! JA trying to get on the defensive, but Stevens isn’t letting up!!

DM: Stevens looking FIERCE with those shots to the masked face of JA… but looking for something more devastating now as he takes the Anglo Luchadore by the arm and sends him into the ropes with a whip! Here’s Stevens with the CLOTHESLINE—BUT IT’S DUCKED by JA—!!

DT: —and countered BEAUTIFULLY with a SPINNING HEEL KICK from the Anglo Luchadore as Stevens spun around! That put him RIGHT to the mat!!

MN: D’OH!!

Crowd: *POP~!!*

DM: Stevens quickly on his feet—but JA’s just as quick, and DROPS HIM AGAIN with a standing dropkick!! JA back on his feet, running into the ropes—but Stevens slips out of the ring before he can be on the receiving end of whatever that might’ve been!

DT: I guess JA is just giving him more than he can handle!!

MN: You’re delusional, Dave! Trip just miscalculated there for a moment and now he needs a moment to regain his bearings…

DT: Right, well… let’s just hope he doesn’t take too long in regaining said bearings! Pat Jones has begun the ten count, as a rather FLUSTERED “Triple X” Sean Stevens consults with the other Fallen members outside the ring. What could they be plotting now?!

MN: There’s no plotting there, Dave! He’s just getting some friendly words of advice from fellow athletes!

DM: …since when does a multiple Heavyweight Champion in federation’s the world over need “advice” from a couple curtain jerkers like Stalker and Nakita Dahaka?

MN: Now stop right there, Dean-O! You’re trashing the names of two very talented individuals who have a perspective on this sport that—


DM: Looks like Stevens and the Fallen ducked for cover anyway! The Anglo Luchadore has this audience LAUGHING at his opponent!


MN: Ungrateful redneck slobs… they have NO idea what professional wrestling excellence looks like!

DT: Seems to be ruffling the feathers of the former EPW World Heavyweight Champion! He probably came out thinking he could easily gain an advantage in playing mind games, but JA’s turning the tables!

DM: JA might be trying to get under Stevens’ skin!! Stevens looks nearly INSANE on the outside of the ring!

MN: It’s a tell-tale sign of his characteristically cold and merciless style of wrestling!

DT: I think he’s LOSING IT, if you ask me! Stevens, back in the ring unmolested… both competitors circling each other, sizing each other up… a much different approach than what we saw moments ago at the beginning of the match.

DM: So much energy was spent in an instant. No doubt, these two just want to tear each other’s faces off, but if they go all out too soon, there won’t be enough when—STEVENS SHOOTS FOR THE LEGS!!

DT: And the takedown is BLOCKED by JA!! Great reflexes on the part of the Anglo Luchadore!

DM: Both men struggling for vantage as Stevens tries hooking the legs and bringing JA to the mat, but JA’s up on the balls of his feet and has him hooked around the waist; he isn’t going without a fight! Now it’s JA with a few elbow strikes into the spine of Sean Stevens… looking to work his arm into a hammerlock—and Stevens instantly SLIPS OUT, reversing it into an arm wrench!!

MN: Sweet moves, Trip!

DT: Stevens, twisting the Anglo Luchadore’s arm, working the smaller opponent’s shoulder… but JA with a FORWARD FLIP—AND A REVERSAL that tosses the former World Champion over onto his back!

DM: JA popping to his feet… quickly BOUNCES OFF THE MIDDLE TURNBUCKLE—


DT: NO!! Stevens ROLLS just in time to miss that springboard elbow drop! Here are both men scrambling to their feet… and STEVENS lands the boot to the gut—RIGHT INTO A SWINGING NECK BREAKER!!

MN: HAH HAH!! That’s how it’s done, man!

DT: That just stopped JA’s momentum dead… and now the dethroned King of the Gladiators makes the first cover in this championship match!



And JA kicks out! The Anglo Luchadore won’t go down that easily!

DM: He’s arguably one of EPW’s greatest fighters in terms of spirit and determination… but he’s up against one of the most brutal dream-crushers ever known in the industry. “Triple X” is the kind of opponent that would LAUGH OFF the die-hard approach.

MN: It’s because he’s a man who lives in REALITY… not your fairy-foo-foo fantasy world where good always triumphs over evil.

DT: We’ll see what REALITY is when this match is over, Neely! The former World Champion rallying for absolute control of this match… there’s a WHIP to the corner as JA was just getting to his feet! Stevens immediately on top of him, with a BOOT to the ribs to keep him from escaping!

DM: He’s got him cornered now, which doesn’t look good for the Anglo Luchadore! Stevens sizing him up… BIG CHOP across the chest! You could hear that one ring through the entire arena!

Crowd: “OOOoooooohhh…”

MN: Now that’s a sound I NEVER get tired of hearing!

DM: Stevens setting up JA again—ANOTHER BIG CHOP!!

Crowd: “OOOoooooohhh…”

DM: That’s a BRUISER, right there!! JA will wake up tomorrow feeling that one for sure!

MN: Well, we can only hope!

DT: JA in a precarious position as Sean Stevens uses his slight advantage in size and strength for everything it’s worth… here he has him by the head out—RUNS OUT OF THE CORNER WITH A BULLDOG!! OH MAN, he is just beginning to DOMINATE JA!!

DM: He’s really making him pay for earlier! JA trying to get up, but can’t shake off the pain in time for “Triple X” to grab ahold of him again! Here’s Stevens by the waist… going for the GUTWRENCH SUPLEX!! Flattens JA to the mat once again!

DT: Here’s the cover!



And a KICKOUT by JA! He’s still looking strong, despite the efforts of the former World Heavyweight Champion!

MN: Yeah, he’s hanging with it now, but don’t be coy, Dave; Trips is just gettin’ warmed up in there!

DM: It’s surprising to see Stevens going all-out so early in a title match. I figured he’d try to chip away at JA bit by bit with a series of holds, but right now, he just looks completely unhinged! He’s showing no mercy and going right for the throat!

DT: Just more proof that all is not right in his head…

MN: Hey, he’s just going through a lot of stress right now, what with being held back from his title by a certain OWNER…

DT: JA trying to get himself up by the ropes, but Stevens is on him once again… Stevens with a waistlock… looking for a GERMAN SUPLEX—but JA FLIPS OUT!! JA with the ROLL-UP FROM BEHIND!!



NO!! A kickout from Sean Stevens!

MN: Settle down, Dave! If you really thought Stevens was going to be bested by THAT, then you truly don’t know this sport…

DM: Both men scrambling to their feet—OOOH!! Stevens just FLOORS the Anglo Luchadore with a STIFF knee lift! The Anglo Luchadore is having trouble making a comeback here!

DT: Come on, JA! You’ve got all of Empire Pro in your corner!

MN: Heh heh… you AMUSE me, Dave!

DM: Here’s Stevens, keeping the pressure up as he brings JA to his feet… and there’s the HARD whip to the corner!! Stevens FOLLOWS—NO!! JA went for some evasive action, and Stevens just ATE the top turnbuckle!!

DT: Here’s his chance… JA takes the stunned “Triple X” by the arm—RUNS OFF THE TURNBUCKLE—and delivers a ¡MAGNIFICO! TORNADO ARMDRAG that brings Sean Stevens tumbling to the mat!

MN: Oh man, Dave’s breakin’ out his Lucha Lib-onics!!

DM: The crowd is back on their feet as Stevens stammers to his feet… a JAPANESE ARMDRAG from JA puts him back on the mat! Stevens back up with a shake to his right limb… and here’s JA—VAULTING ONTO HIM—RIGHT INTO a TILT-A-WHIRL ARMDRAG!!

DT: The Anglo Luchadore, keeping the former World Champion at bay with a series of fast and furious takedowns… and Stevens, back on his feet, falls victim to a whip to the—NO!! There’s the reversal, and JA goes into the ropes, and Stevens catches him—NO WAIT, JA reverses with a SPINNING HEADSCISSOR—RIGHT INTO AN ARMLOCK?! What the HELL is THAT!?

DM: SIMPLY AMAZING!! JA just pulled off ¡¡LA MISTICA!! He’s putting UNBELIEVABLE strain on that arm right now, but Stevens is in reach of the ropes, and QUICKLY tags the bottom cable to break the hold!

MN: Come on, Jones, do your freakin’ job!!

DT: Pat Jones ordering JA to release that arm lock, but JA a bit reluctant, continuing to apply pressure and boil the former World Champion with pain! Jones warning him with a count… and JA releases on the three before he can be disqualified!

MN: I think he should be disqualified anyway! He was BLATANTLY ignoring the referee there!

DT: Right, as if STEVENS never did that…

MN: Not to my knowledge.

DM: There’s a break in the match as JA backs his offense off of Stevens, allowing the former World Champion to come to his feet and shake up his arm, perhaps trying to get some feeling in there after the Anglo Luchadore went to work on it. JA needs a bit of a breather himself. He took a lot of damage earlier while Stevens was in control of things, and just went all-out with that comeback.

MN: He needs time for those Energizer batteries he keeps stuffed in the back of that stupid mask to recharge.

DT: Both men advancing… and there’s the tie-up once again! JA quickly slaps on a hammerlock, but he’s quickly shaken off by an elbow from “Triple X!” Stevens quickly shoves him off the ropes with the whip!

DM: Stevens going for a back body drop—and JA LEAP FROGS over him! Here’s JA into the ropes again—no, he STUMBLES!!

MN: HA!! The Anglo Luchadore has two left feet!

DT: That wasn’t a stumble! Look who’s standing right there at ringside!

[Cut to the camera at ringside revealing STALKER limping away from the apron, obviously to make himself look inconspicuous. In the ring, JA stands at the ropes, berating the interference.]

Crowd: BOOOOOOO~~!!!

DT: Stalker tripped him up, and JA knows it!

MN: He did nothing of the sort, Dave! Did you SEE him do it?!

DT: Well, I bet I could catch it on a replay!

MN: So you have no proof! You know, you can’t just throw out these baseless accusations willy-nilly and expect people to believe—

DM: Wait, here comes STEVENS TO BLINDSIDE JA—OH NO, JA DUCKS the clothesline attempt, and SEAN STEVENS spills to the outside!!

Crowd: *POPP~!!!*

DT: JA saw THAT one coming and he wasn’t going fall for it! JA standing tall in the ring as Stevens regains his bearings, and… wait a minute, JA looking for a follow-up! JA on the ropes… goes right into a CORKSCREW PESCADOOOO—OOOHH NOOO!!! STEVENS PULLED CASSIDY STEWART IN THE WAY!!

DM: OH MAN!! Just as JA predicted Stevens would try to blindside him, the Blue-Eyed Badass almost TELEPATHICALLY KNEW JA was going for that high-risk maneuver, and just pulled the nearest person he could find to take the brunt of that move! Unfortunately, it happened to be the abducted publicist of the notorious King of the Streets!

MN: HAHAHAHA!! Man, Stevens is BRILLIANT!!

DT: JA trying to recover from this folly—NOOO!! Stevens, with a fierce SOCCER KICK to the HEAD as he was trying to get up, stops the Anglo Luchadore dead in his tracks!

DM: JA is yet again in a precarious position, as now Sean Stevens is garnering control of this match, and both opponents are at present outside the ring, in the typically hazardous landscape of the ringside area. Here’s Stevens, bringing JA back to his feet… and leading him over here to our table!

MN: Come on, Sean! Show us up close what you’re doing to this Lucha LOSER!!

DM: Stevens has him by the tights and mask, and—OH—


DM: Man, Stevens nearly puts a HOLE through the commentary table using JA as a human BATTERING RAM, driving him into the side wooden paneling! That’s an inch of solid OAK!!

MN: Well, it’s a good thing that hag Lindsay Troy didn’t cut the budget and give us the cheap plastic table!

DM: Being on the outside of the ring isn’t the best place JA can be right now. Stevens can use every part of that environment as a weapon, not to mention it increases the chances of the other Fallen members getting involved. Fortunately for JA, he’s got Troy and Fuse out there to keep the balance. Meanwhile, members of the ring crew are helping poor Cassidy Stewart back to his feet. Looks like they’re trying to get a chair for him, but Nakita Dahaka quickly takes him by the arm and YANKS him back into the possession of the Fallen!

DT: They are some extremely sick individuals… but back to the action, Stevens slips into the ring briefly to break the ten count being made by Pat Jones… and I can’t help but notice he’s still trying to shake some feeling in that arm. I wonder if JA successfully managed to damage it through the course of this match!

DM: It’s a possibility, Dave, and it could be just what JA was going for. But right now, it hardly seems to be holding the former World Champion back.

MN: As long as he’s got a whole other arm and two legs to kick some ass, Sean Stevens is INVINCIBLE!!

DT: I don’t know about that, but he is certainly dominating right now. Stevens bringing a weakened JA to his feet… what’s he got planned now? Stevens with a front waistlock… looking for a SWINGING BELLY-TO-BELLY SUPLEX—


Crowd: OOOOOOoooohhh!!!!


DM: What a VICIOUS strike!! I gotta see that one again…

[A split-screen reveals the move being replayed from two different angles. The sound of JA connecting with the post is prevalent every time.]

MN: With any luck, he’s crippled! This could be the SECOND career ended by Sean Stevens!

DT: Stevens rolling JA back into the ring, and quickly goes for the cover on the wounded Anglo Luchadore! Could this be IT?!



NO!! A kickout by JA!!

Crowd: *POP~!!*

DM: Stevens can only SLAP THE MAT IN FRUSTRATION as JA continues to cling on to the hope of becoming the new EPW World Heavyweight Champion!

MN: Clinging like a DINGLEBERRY to the ass of Empire Pro!

DT: The Anglo Luchadore stays alive, but needs to regain the offensive edge in this match, or he won’t last long against the relentless attacks of the increasingly erratic Sean Stevens! I’m not sure “Triple X” is in the right state of mind right now, and that’s making him all the more dangerous!

DM: You’re right about that, Dave… Stevens still in control, bringing JA back to his feet—NO WAIT!! The Anglo Luchadore biting back with a STIFF-ASS KNIFE EDGE CHOP TO THE CHEST!! There’s a SECOND that leaves Stevens reeling, and the fans are CHEERING WILDLY as JA makes a comeback!

DT: COME ON, JAY AYE!! The Anglo Luchadore runs into the ropes… NO!! Stevens with a boot to the gut… and OH MAN!!! A devastating BRAINBSUTER follows!

MN: Heh heh… I LOVE it! All these stupid fanboys start jumping up and down at the first sign of JA doing ANYTHING other than getting his ass kicked… and in the blink of an eye, “Triple X” Sean Stevens, professional wrestling’s KING, puts an entire arena into funeral-like silence!

DM: There’s never been an individual who could kill a heroic moment like Sean Stevens… JA prone on the mat and not moving… and now Stevens, shaking that right arm of his once again!

DT: Perhaps lifting JA off the mat for that maneuver only agitated the pain in his dominant limb?

DM: I’m beginning to see the strategy in JA’s earlier efforts… but right now, Stevens is going to the turnbuckle! He’s climbing right to the top!

MN: Alright, time to END this!!

DT: Stevens, setting himself up—BUT JA JUST POPPED TO HIS FEET!! WHAT AN ACT!!

DM: The Anglo Luchadore, playing possum, DIVES to the ropes—AND STEVENS RACKS HIMSELF ON THE TOP ROPE!!


DT: Here comes JA to the turnbuckle, and now HE’S going up!! High risk maneuver coming up, as JA hooks Stevens by the—OH WAIT!! He’s CAUGHT on something…



MN: JA’s not even supposed to be ON those ropes!! She’s just enforcing the rules here!

DT: Oh shut up, Mike! Wait, here’s DOUGLAS AND FUSENSHOFF to the rescue! Fusenshoff just SHOVED Dahaka right off the apron! But wait, Stevens struggling out of the grip of JA!!

DM: OOOOHHH!! Stevens just BFCCTCH SLAPS the taste out of JA’s mouth, and JA drops to the ring… wait now, Stevens reaching down and going for a waist lock… INTO A POWERBOMB?!?




DM: A drop of nearly TEN FEET flat on his back!!

MN: AW-RIGHT!! It’s gotta be over now!!

DM: Uh oh, Stevens looking like he’s in PAIN as he clutches that arm right around the shoulder! He’s only further agitated his impairment! His continued use of that arm only makes the problem worse!

DT: It may not be a problem after that last move! Here’s Stevens with the cover, looking to end this match!!




MN: Damnit!!

Crowd: *PAAAAWP!!!*

DT: The Anglo Luchadore keeps the hopes of MILLIONS of Empire Pro fans alive by continuing to survive the onslaught of Sean Stevens!!

DM: He can keep coming back, but Stevens is more than capable of knocking him down again all night if he has to. JA needs to hold out for just a bit longer, until Stevens slips up or another opportunity arises.

MN: Not a chance!! Stevens has him right where he wants him now, and it’s only a matter of time until that masked fool chokes!

DT: Jericoholic Anonymous has always made a point to his opponent that in their last match, he fought a very spirited fight, and tonight is no different! Sean Stevens is exerting his strength as much as he can to put the Anglo Luchadore down for the three count! The more he tries to use that arm, the further it impairs him, and JA simply REFUSES to go down!

DM: Stevens is getting REALLY irate now! He wants to go home with that belt NOW, and I think he’s ready to finish this!

DT: Oh no… Stevens bringing the nearly lifeless JA back to his feet… setting him up in an inverted facelock… is he going for it??


DT: Stevens, WITH THE X-TERMINATOR—no wait, he couldn’t get JA into the air!

DM: Look at the expression on Stevens’ face right now! He’s doing everything he can to fight the pain in his arm, but he’s just strained it too much, and now he can’t lift JA!!

MN: Come on, Trip!! Get that loser’s scrawny ass up there!

DT: Stevens AGAIN… no, he can’t do it!

DM: Don’t count him out too soon, Dave!! Here he goes, Stevens, teeth clenched so tight he could bite through a LEATHER BELT… and HE’S GOT JA IN THE AIR—

DT: BUT HE DROPPED HIM!!! He couldn’t get him all the way over!!

DM: JA on his feet—THERE’S A WAIST LOCK—


Crowd: *PAAAAWWWPP~!!!*



DM: The slam that won THREE Olympic Gold Medals, and in the blink of an eye, JA has turned the tide of this match!! But pulling off that one move has taken SO MUCH out of him, he can hardly move there on the mat!

DT: Both men lying prone on the mat as Pat Jones makes the ten count! All JA has to do now is move that last stretch of ten inches and drape his arm across the chest of Sean Stevens, and EPW will see its new World Heavyweight Champion!!

MN: Oh, come on!! He could be CRIPPLED by now!!!

DT: JA finally beginning to inch toward the lifeless body of Sean Stevens… HE’S ALMOST THERE!!

DM: He’s got this cheering crowd on the edges of their seats!! JA’s GOING TO DO IT!!






DT: Unbelievable… that’s all I can say right now

MN: WOO-HOO!! I KNEW Trip was the greatest wrestler of all time!

DM: I’ll be honest… I didn’t really believe Stevens would be down and out that easily. After all that time punishing JA, there was no way that he was going to be beaten out of the blue like that. Sean Stevens is proving tonight that his original reign as the World Heavyweight Champion was certainly no fluke! That finishing maneuver may have been the last thing JA had left in the tank, and now he faces the insurmountable task of overcoming all the pain and exhaustion he’s going through right now, and manage to take down the King of the Gladiators!

MN: It’s impossible! He shoulda just stayed down when he had the chance!

DT: The Anglo Luchadore, struggling to his feet… but with the help of the ropes and the audience behind him, JA is standing once again, as a dazed and delirious Sean Stevens tries to remember where he is from his place on the mat! JA, limping to the turnbuckle… and now he’s climbing to the top!

DM: Oh no, high-risk maneuver coming up! JA is needing to go ALL OUT to take down the seemingly unbeatable Sean Stevens! He needs to dig deep to beat the man he could never beat!


DT: Jericoholic Anonymous, PERCHED ON THE TOP ROPE, and the fans are ON THEIR FEET in support of the Anglo Luchadore!!




DT: STEVENS BLOCKED IT!! JA was just a MOMENT too late!!

MN: OH MAN, that is AWESOME!! Look at JA flop around the ring like a fish out of water!!

DM: JA’s in bad shape! Stevens rolling back to his feet as JA struggles to his own… JA, with every ounce of his strength, LUNGING at “Triple X”—AND GETS A BOOT TO THE GUT!!

DT: OOHHH!!! Stevens DROPS HIM with a Flowing DDT!! No doubt he picked up that move from his accomplice, Stalker!


DT: Now it’s Stevens standing tall, JA not moving on the mat… Stevens going to the turnbuckle!! More high risk maneuvers?!

DM: Stevens has got to go with a different strategy! JA maimed his dominant arm, and now that strength is no longer his weapon of choice, he has to go back to his traditional high-flying maneuvers!! Stevens, on the top rope… COMING OFF WITH A FROGSPLASH…


MN: OH YESSS!! Where was JA with the knees that time?! HUH?! That’s “TRIPLE X” showing him how it’s DONE!!

DT: JA is clutching his ribs in absolute AGONY right now… and Sean Stevens is going for the COVER!!




MN: OH COME ON!! Troy Douglas put that foot up there!

DM: Douglas is clear on the other side of the ring, Mike!

MN: I don’t care, somebody get him out of here!!

DT: JA SURVIVES!! To imagine how much he’s been through up until this point and seeing him continue to fight is TRULY remarkable!

DM: But once again, Stevens is in full control of this match!! And right now, he is LUCID!! Stevens, getting in the face of Pat Jones, but there’s nothing to dispute! JA got his leg on the ropes, and it was as clear as day!

MN: Naw naw… Jones has CLEARLY been favoring JA through this entire match! He’s gotta be on somebody’s payroll!

DM: Lindsay Troy’s, obviously.


DM: Settle down, Neels…

DT: I think this match is really setting Sean Stevens over the deep end, and ONCE AGAIN, he goes to the turnbuckle… and ONCE AGAIN, Sean Stevens beginning to climb!! Has he just LOST IT?!

DM: Oh, “Triple X” is going all out now! JA struggling to his feet, and Stevens is perched on the top rope behind him!



DT: JA looking to be in a lot of pain, slipping in and out of consciousness… and Stevens, pulling him by his leg, setting him up for YET ANOTHER high-risk move! What’s he going to do now?!

MN: Anything he CAN to turn this punk into a stain in the canvas!!

DM: Stevens ascending the near turnbuckle, and JA is going NOWHERE… and now the King of the Gladiators making the “X” symbol over his head!!

Crowd: BBOOOOOOO~!!!!



MN: Oh sweet Buddha, that was BEAUTIFUL!! He had PERFECT form on that Shooting Star Press!!

DM: I hardly thought Stevens was still capable in busting that out given his old age, but he’s done it, and the results speak for themselves! JA in the center of the ring in a WORLD of hurt, if he’s even CONSCIOUS at this point!!

DT: He’s just gone through an UNBELIEVABLE amount of punishment… and even now, “Triple X” Sean Stevens neglects the cover, going to the turnbuckle! Sean Stevens, loading the boot!!

Crowd: BOOOOOO~~!!!!!

DM: Sean Stevens has studied the equation! He’s found the answer! He’s looking for… THE X-FACTOR!!!

DT: JA is finally picking his beaten body off the mat, looking in absolute TERRIBLE shape!! He’s in the crosshairs of Sean Stevens’ finisher, and has nowhere to go!!

MN: Let’s go, Trip! Score this touchdown, and let’s go home and bang the cheerleader together!!

DT: It can’t end like this!!


DM: All these fans rooting for their hero, and Sean Stevens is about to DESTROY him!!

MN: I know! It’s beautiful, isn’t it!!

DT: JA on his feet, and Stevens waits for him to turn around!! The Anglo Luchadore, turning to meet his fate… AND HERE’S STEVENS WITH THE SUPERKICK!!!


Crowd: PAWP~!!!




DM: Stevens DID NOT see this coming!! He had JA in the PALM OF HIS HAND, but the Anglo Luchadore came back from out of NOWHERE, and now he’s about to be stretched beyond unimaginable pain!!

MN: Come on, Trip, FIGHT!!


DM: Stevens is NOWHERE near the ropes!! I don’t think he has enough left in him to crawl that far!!


DM: Jones, looking for the tap… but wait, DAHAKA’S ON THE APRON! SOMEBODY GET HER DOWN FROM THERE!!

DT: Jones trying to shoo Dahaka off of the ring… no, NO!! Get BACK there!! Stevens hasn’t TAPPED YET!!

DM: Pat Jones has his back to the action in the ring as Douglas and Fusenshoff assist in trying to pull an unwilling Nakita Dahaka from the apron, and—wait, WHAT’S THAT?! STALKER JUST SLID SOMETHING INTO THE RING while Jones wasn’t looking!

DT: Is that a MEATHOOK!?!

DM: Where the hell did Stalker get his hands on one of THOSE?!

MN: Hey, hobos are resourceful!!


DM: JA releasing the Walls of Jericoholic as he clutches his leg in pain, and Stevens is squirming loose… JA there to stop him—BUT STEVENS BLASTS HIM IN THE FACE WITH THAT IRON MEATHOOK!!!


DM: Stevens throws the evidence out of the ring JUST as Douglas grabs Nakita by the pants and FORCEFULLY pulls her off the apron! About time somebody got that b[FCC]tch down from there, but the damage has already been done!!

MN: Good thing referees are inherently STUPID!!

DT: Oh my, I think JA is BLEEDING in there!!

DM: You may be right, Dave!! I think JA caught the sharp end of that hook as he took it to the face!!

[A zoom on JA’s masked face reveals the navy blue fabric turning red as the blood pours from an open rip over his eyebrow. The cut looks deep enough to make the Great Mutah wince in pain.]

DT: That is a NASTY cut! And even Pat Jones can’t help but notice that!!

MN: Oh come on, wrestlers bleed all the time!

DM: Not like that, and Pat Jones is no idiot!! Jones knows something is up, and is demanding Stevens explain himself!! Stevens is denying foul play!!

DT: But Jones isn’t FALLING FOR IT!! JA’s losing a lot of blood, and Jones is going to THROW THIS MATCH OUT!! Jones, to the timekeeper—


Crowd: BBBOOOOOOO~~!!!!!



DT: Jason “Stalker” Reeves just entered the ring and TOOK OUT senior official Pat Jones with a STEEL CHAIR!!




DM: Stalker has effectively RUINED JA’s chance at being the World Heavyweight Champion…

MN: This bullsh[FCC]t needed to end anyway!


Crowd: *POPP!!!*

DT: It’s DOUGLAS AND FUSENSHOFF hitting the ring!! And here comes Nakita Dahaka!! The referee is down, and now it’s PANDEMONIUM!!

DM: Douglas charges on Stalker, and Fusenshoff tangles with Dahaka!! They’re forcing them out of the ring!

DT: Good, they shouldn’t even be NEAR the ring!!

MN: I knew Stevens kept those goons for a reason!!

DT: Here comes security, flooding the ringside area as these four brawl out of control!! Finally, they’re moving the fracas back up the rampway… meanwhile, in the ring, CASSIDY STEWART is finally FREE from the Fallen, and now he’s trying to resuscitate Pat Jones!!

DM: JA, covered in his own blood, has finally recovered after taking that steel chair to his back, now with the foreign object in his hands as he comes to his feet… wait a second, Stevens rising behind him!



MN: OH, SWEET BUDDHA!! Stevens is a GENIUS!!! Crap hit the fan, and he took advantage of the situation like a PRO!!!

DT: JA is being ROBBED HERE!!

DM: Stevens with the chair in hand, waiting for JA to rise once again… and JA hardly knows where he is!! JA is just covered in a crimson mask, fighting the urge to just black out and fall onto the canvas in a heap!! Stevens has him right in his sights!!

MN: Can’t mess this up!!



DT: What, WHERE?!





DM: Ice Tre touches down in the center of the ring… what’s that in his hands?! A baseball bat and… THE KING OF THE CAGE CROWN?!


[Flashing his diamond-studded grill of doom, Ice Tre sets the crown cocked over his head and reels back the bat before a stunned Sean Stevens…]


[Tre poses for the screaming fans briefly before spinning around and finding an absolutely horrified Cassidy Stewart. Without hesitation, he grabs onto his publicist, and the two zip back into the rafters on the wire the King of the Streets came down on, and they disappear fast as he came in.]

DT: Tre and Stewart are OUT OF HERE, and the message left behind is LOUD AND CLEAR!!!

DM: Stevens staggering back to his feet, clutching face… turns right into JAY AYE—



DT: JAY AYE NAILED IT!!! The Anglo Luchadore tosses the evidence out of the ring Pat Jones finally rises onto his knees… going back to Stevens—LA MANHISTRO CRADLE!!! JONES WITH THE COUNT…






[The bell rings twice as “Eat the Rich” hits the PA. JA lays flat on his back in the center of the ring breathing heavily as the thousands of fans in attendance chant his name.]

TF: Ladies and gentlemen… here is your winner… and NEW WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION of EMPIRE PRO WRESTLING!!!


[Pat Jones helps the victor to his knees as the timekeeper enters the ring and hands him the EPW World Heavyweight Title. Amid an ocean of cheering fans, flash photography, and booming music, JA spends several moments oblivious to the scene around him as he stares through his blood-stained mask at the prestigious title in his hands. With the moment ingrained in his memory for the rest of his career, JA stumbles to his feet, holding the belt HIGH over his head as he presents it to the screaming crowd!!]


DM: Considering the number of people HE screwed in attempt to put that title around his waist again, I’d say he got what was coming for him!!

DT: After all the years JA has spent climbing the ladder, tirelessly sacrificing his body and mind to entertain the fans and carry himself to the top of the promotion, JA has FINALLY accomplished his dream of becoming the EPW World Heavyweight Champion, and has done so by achieving a seemingly impossible feat in besting the man who has bested him in every past encounter! JA went through insurmountable odds, constant interference, and one HELLBENT opponent tonight, but in the end, he will be walking out of this arena as Empire Pro’s NEW champion!

[The ring is flooded with officials, press, boys from the back, and even fans daring enough to hop the railing and join the victorious Anglo Luchadore in the ring. Outside the ring, Sean Stevens rolls to the floor, and is helped up by Stalker and Dahaka as they come down the ramp for their leader. Somberly, they lead the defeated away, with Stevens looking back into the ring with eyes open wide with unspeakable shock.]

MN: Mark my words, if you think this is the LAST JA’s seen of Sean Stevens, then you’re dead wrong! Stevens WILL reclaim that title, no matter what!

DM: If I were Sean Stevens, I’d be more worried about the man that cost me the match… ICE TRE!

DT: Either way, on this night, Stevens suffers the bitter taste of defeat, and the glory goes to the man standing triumphant in the ring!

[*BOOM!! BOOM!! BOOM!!*]

[Pyros go off in the rafters as JA is lifted onto the shoulders of Troy Douglas and Fusenshoff, again holding his belt high into the air. On the stage, the Fallen disappear to the back, with Stevens lingering a moment longer, looking into the rafters and cursing silently before disappearing through the curtain.]

DT: Ladies and gentlemen, we have just witnessed a PHENOMENAL main event we won’t soon forget! A new champion has been crowned, and the federation’s two quarrelling KINGS will soon wage all-out war!! We’re out of time for tonight’s broadcast, but we’re sure there is much to unfold at our next installment of Aggression! For Mike Neely and Dean Matthews, I’m Dave Thomas… good night!

[Fade to the Empire Pro logo.]
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About FWrestling

FWrestling.com was founded in 1994 to promote a community of fantasy wrestling fans and leagues. Since then, we've hosted dozens of leagues and special events, and thousands of users. Come join and prove you're "Even Better Than The Real Thing."

Add Your League

If you want to help grow the community of fantasy wrestling creators, consider hosting your league here on FW. You gain access to message boards, Discord, your own web space and the ability to post pages here on FW. To discuss, message "Chad" here on FW Central.

What Is FW?

Take a look at some old articles that are still relevant regarding what fantasy wrestling is and where it came from.
  • Link: "What is FW?"
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