Aggression 6 - Miami, FL - 4/17/04

[DBrunkGXW]

[CUE UP: "Imperial March" - Rage Against the Machine. A video montage plays, featuring smoke-wreathed images of various wrestlers, some of them leaving blurred trails as they move.
CUT TO: Christian Sands hitting the Sand Blaster on an unknown opponent.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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





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

[Cut to the ramp, where a wreath of pyro explodes around the EmpireTron and several bomblike, smoky explosions ripple about the entry way. The camera zooms in on the screen as the pyro finally peters out, then blurs to roving shots of the crowd as a small banner in the corner briefly appears to proclaim that EPW is broadcast en Espanol. Various signs are visible in the crowd: "Dan Ryan: Stomper Of Jobbers", "I AM A WALTZER", "Christian Sands Is The Sultan Of Workrate", "I Came To See Beast", "I WANT TYRONE WALKER TO HAVE MY BABIES", "FEEL THE BLITZ!!!", "Troy Douglas = Ratings", and finally, "WE PLEDGE ALLEGIANCE TO EMPEROR MARX".]

[Before we can so much as cut to the announce table, "Dark Machine" by Paul Oakenfold hits the speakers, and the crowd's roaring quickly turns to loud boos.]

DT: Welcome, everyone, to Empire Pro Wrestling's Aggression, live from Miami, Florida! I'm Dave Thomas, and with me is Mike Neely - and it looks as if we're about to be addressed by the World's Heavyweight Champion right off the bat tonight!

MN: What a way to open the show! Wonder what he's got to say?

[The boos of the crowd intensify as Christian Sands walks down the ramp, the title belt slung over his shoulder; he wears Oakley shades and a black trenchcoat over a matching turtleneck and jeans. His chin is lifted imperiously as he waves off the fans. Stepping into the ring, he immediately grabs the mic from ring announcer Tony Fatora.]

SANDS: If I could have your attention...

[The fans cut Sands off, booing him rather loudly. Unmoved, Sands waits for the crowd to die down before speaking again.]

SANDS: Yes, thank you, you're all idiots. Now shut up when the Champion of the World is speaking. NOW then. As I was saying... there's a problem here tonight. Last week, I did something nobody would expect me to do when I offered Beast a rematch. However, the monkeys in the front office have neglected to take notice of this action. I would like to know, monkeys, exactly why my match with Beast remains unscheduled. One would think that the Champion of the World would receive a little more respect from management in such matters, hm? Come on, boys, get out here and tell me to my face exactly what kind of **** you're trying to pull on me-

[The EmpireTron flickers, and the fans offer a HUGE pop as the screen shifts to show Dan Ryan sitting behind his desk, smiling.]

RYAN: Miiiister Sands. I take it you have a few issues with management, huh?

SANDS: You owe me some answers, Ryan. Why the HELL has my match not been-

RYAN: Easy there, killer. Don't blow a gasket, huh? You want to know why your rematch with Beast isn't scheduled this week? I'll tell you. But first, let me fill you in on the responsibilities of being a World Champion.

SANDS: I don't-

RYAN: AS World Champion, a very important part of your job is to draw money for the promotion in the most effective manner possible. As champion, you are of course the top draw in the promotion by default, so it's your responsiBILity to conduct yourself in a manner that will sell more tickets, draw more ratings, and pop more Pay-Per-View buys. In this case, your promised rematch with Beast would draw television ratings, but it would draw MORE Pay-Per-View buyrates by building anticipation. Therefore, I'll give you the rematch, Christian... at the upcoming Pay-Per-View, Unleashed!

[CROWD: *HUGE POP!*]

RYAN: But now that I think about it... The fans have already seen you and Beast in a match once before, Sands. Heaven forbid we present a recycled product to the viewing audience, hm?

SANDS: Don't screw with me, Ryan-

RYAN: SO, I think we'll shake things up a little. You'll get the rematch at Unleashed... and just so our product doesn't turn stale on us, it'll be you and Beast with your title on the line... In a sixteen-foot-high STEEL CAGE!

[The crowd ERUPTS at that. Sands doesn't seem to know whether to protest or offer thanks.]

RYAN: No need to thank me... I'm just doing what's in the fed's best interests. See? You got your rematch, and you can even draw a lot of money by doing it MY way. Good? Good. Enjoy.

[The EmpireTron winks off. Cut back to Sands, who is silent for a moment before raising the mic.]

SANDS: (sarcastically) Oh, I will, Danny. I suuuure will.

[With that, Sands tosses the mic aside and walks backstage, the crowd booing him heavily as he departs.]



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

DT: What an announcement from Dan Ryan! It's gonna be Beast challenging Sands at Unleashed, and it's gonna be in a steel cage!

MN: Dag, yo! That stuff's gonna kick some serious bootay! Those two tore the house down at Black Dawn, and I can't WAIT to see it again!

DT: You're exactly right, Mike! We've got to take a quick break, folks, but when we come back we've got some in-ring action for you! Brien Cage! Derek Stoltz! NEXT!

MN: (bored voice) Woohoo.

[Commercials.]

 

[DBrunkGXW]

DT: We're back!

MN: Speak for yourself. I'm shoulder.

DT: Folks, we promised you action tonight, and right now we're going to give it to you! Brien Cage has been given one last chance to redeem himself by president Dan Ryan, but he faces stiff opposition in Derek Stoltz!

MN: You mean the guy who's lost every match and has never once dropped a promo?

DT: Be nice, Mike. Let's go to the ring, where the two men are already waiting.

MN: You know you're a jobber when you don't even get your entrance music. Ha.

DT: I said be nice.



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

Derek Stoltz vs. "Silent Assassin" Brien Cage​

[The crowd is COMPLETELY apathetic as Stoltz and Cage initiate a weak tie-up. They jockey for position for a moment or so. Cue up: "Zero" - Smashing Pumpkins, and Cage and Stoltz stop dead as the crowd ROARS. They know what's coming.]

DT: Uh-oh, we all know what that means - and there's the Ego Buster!

MN: He looks PISSED!

[Taking a moment to soak in the roar of the crowd, Ryan strides to the ring, steps between Cage and Stoltz, and grabs the mic from Tony Fatora.]

RYAN: Boys, I've got a problem with you two. You've failed me. When I allowed you two to wrestle here in EPW, I made it clear that I expected you to do your jobs and promote your matches. Yet you haven't done that. Therefore, you're both fired.

[HUGE crowd pop!]

RYAN: Now we can do this the easy way or the hard way. The easy way involves you walking out the door, no questions asked. The hard way involves you NOT walking out the door. The choice is yours.

[The crowd chants "HARD WAY! HARD WAY! HARD WAY!" as Stoltz and Cage stand silent. After a moment, Cage sighs, hanging his head. He slides out of the ring and walks dejectedly to the back.]

DT: Looks like Brien Cage has decided to take the easy way!

MN: Hah! Bet we won't be seeing HIM again.

DT: But what about Stoltz?

[Back in the ring, Stoltz works up his courage and goes face to face with Ryan, though it's obvious that he's this close to pissing himself with terror. Ryan stares back calmly... then smiles like a cat spying a mouse.]

RYAN: The hard way it is.

[Abruptly, Ryan boots Stoltz in the gut as the crowd roars its approval. The Ego Buster slugs Stoltz a few more times, then stuffs him into a standing headscissors, heaving him off the canvas to DRILL him with a brutal Humility Bomb! From there, Ryan presses Stoltz over his head, then borrows a page from the GUNS playbook by pressing the little man from the ring into the third row of the crowd!]

RYAN: Boys, clean up that trash, will ya?

[A "RY-AN! RY-AN!" chant erupts as security guards make their way through the crowd, dragging Stoltz unceremoniously to the back. Cue up: "Zero" - Smashing Pumpkins as the crowd continues to go berserk. Smirking, Ryan steps out of the ring and makes his way to the announce table.]



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

DT: Well, that's it, folks! Derek Stoltz and Brien Cage are GONE and, uh, it looks like the owner's joining us here at the broadcast position!

MN: What's up, boss? There's an extra headset for ya-

RYAN: I see it, Mike.

DT: Glad to have you at ringside with us, Mr. Ryan, and I see the cutting of dead weight continues!

RYAN: Exactly. That's exactly why I'm down here with you right now. Introduce the next match.

DT: With pleasure. Folks, this next match features a debuting talent going up against a young man who's made quite a splash here in EPW! It's Eric Dane versus one of Empire's most... unique young stars, John Doe!

MN: I tell you, that guy's a maniac! I heard he killed someone!

RYAN: He's a character, but that's why he's under contract. If he can draw fan interest and earn the promotion a few bucks, I'll take him.

DT: Let's go to the ring!



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

John Doe vs. Eric Dane​

[Pyro and Fireworks go off in the arena as New ERA flashes all over the big screen near the top of the rampway. The arena turns pitch black as the camera catches the fans as they start to look at each other. CUEUP: ‘Sic' by Slipknot over the PA. The big screen flashes between a blurred face and film of a wrestler. Blue pyro fires off at the entrance ramp as the words John Doe flash and shake on the big screen. From behind the curtain, a wrestler walks out on the ramp and "John Doe" makes his way to the ring.]

TONY FATORA: The following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first, weighing in at two hundred and fifteen pounds... The man known as JOOOOOOOOOHN... DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOE!!!

[The arena falls to silence, and Doe heads to his corner, waiting for his opponent to arrive. And there he waits. And waits. And waits.]

[Cut to the ramp as a staff member in a white golf shirt jogs to the ring and whispers something to Tony Fatora, who nods.]

TONY FATORA: Ladies and gentlemen, we regret to inform you that Eric Dane is NOT in the building!

DT: What?!

RYAN: Yeah. The kid took one look at some of the guys in the locker room and ran away scared. I guess some people aren't cut out for big-league competition.

DT: I guess!

MN: Aw, man! But people were expecting a match!

RYAN: Mike, I've got it covered.

[Setting down the headset, Ryan gets up from the broadcast position and heads to the ring, taking the mic from Tony Fatora. He points at John Doe.]

RYAN: John, I don't know you personally, but I DO know that you've been a loyal member of the Empire Pro roster. You've promoted all of your matches to the best of your ability and you've devoted time to improving yourself, which makes you a company man in my eyes. So here's what I'm going to do. I'm going to scrap the upcoming match between Cliff Young and Kevin Watson and make it a triple-threat elimination match. If you can pin both Young and Watson, I'll be nice and let YOU tell them they're fired. Deal?

[Ryan holds the mic out to Doe, who nods.]

DOE: Deal.

RYAN: Good man. Fatora, bring out the sheep, will you please?

[Tossing the mic back to Fatora, Ryan turns and strolls back to the booth as Doe stretches in his corner.]



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

Triangle Elimination Match
John Doe vs. Kevin "K9" Watson vs. "Youngblood" Cliff Young​

TONY FATORA: The following contest is now a triangle match, to be contested under elimination rules! Already in the ring... The man known as JOOOOOOOOOOOOOHN... DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOE!!!

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

TONY FATORA: Introducing the opponents! First, from San Antonio, Texas... Weighing two hundred and thirty-seven pounds... KEVIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIN... WATSOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNNNNN!!!

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

TONY FATORA: From Boston, Mass... Weighing in at two hundred and fifty pounds... CLIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIFF... YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNG!!!

[SFX: *DINGDINGDING* - Bell rings]

DT: And this spur-of-the-moment matchup is under way! Mr. Ryan, are you sure you haven't stacked the odds too heavily against John Doe here?

RYAN: Nah, he can handle it.

[He's right. Doe immediately charges Young and Watson, decking them both with a double clothesline. Not wasting a moment, Doe grabs Young by the hair and wheels him into a corner, running to flatten him with a back elbow, then rolling out of the corner to spinkick Watson down to the canvas. The crowd roars.]

DT: What a spinkick by Doe, as he's all fired up and keeping both Young and Watson on the ropes!

MN: He's a house afire already!

[With a grunt, Doe scoops Watson off the mat and drops him in the Tree of Woe in an empty corner. He heads to Young's corner and slugs him, then Irish-whips him across the ring, sending him caroming into the upside-down Watson! Watson falls out of the Tree of Woe, and Young staggers backwards, allowing Doe to catch him with the Amnesia Attack!]

DT: OH! Amnesia Attack by Doe! The cover! One! Two! THREE!!!

MN: That was fast!

[SFX: *DING* - Bell rings once]

TONY FATORA: KEITH YOUNG HAS BEEN ELIMINATED!!!

DT: It's down to Watson and Doe now!

RYAN: And here you thought the odds were against him.

DT: Apparently not.

RYAN: Have a little faith in the Ego Buster, Dave. I know what I'm doing.

[Calmly, Doe walks over and picks Watson up by the head. He Irish-whips him into the ropes, but Watson ducks the Amnesia attack, only for Doe to land on his feet. As Watson rebounds, Doe spears the living hell out of him and slugs away, then brings him to his feet fluidly and drills him to the canvas with a running DDT!]

DT: There's a big DDT on the fly from Doe, as he's totally dominating Kevin Watson right now!

MN: It'll be over any minute now!

[Picking up Watson, Doe slugs him in the mouth, then whips him off into the ropes. This time, he's able to connect with the Amnesia Attack!]

DT: THERE IT IS!!! AMNESIA ATTACK!!! The cover!!! One! TWO! THREE!!! JOHN DOE HAS DONE IT!!!

[SFX: *DINGDINGDING* - Bell rings]

TONY FATORA: Here is your winner... JOOOOOOOOOOOOOHN... DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOE!!!



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

DT: What a victory for John Doe, as he defeats two men effortlessly!

RYAN: Yeah. If you'll excuse me...

[Ryan gets up from the booth and slips back into the ring. He approaches Doe and says a few words to him, then grabs Fatora's mic.]

RYAN: Kevin... Cliff... Listen up...

[He passes the Mic to Doe.]

DOE: YOU'RRRRRRRRRRRRE... FIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRED!!!

[HUGE crowd pop! Watson and Young, who have both rolled to the outside, exchange looks, then limp sulkingly to the back. Cue up: "(Sic)" - Slipknot as John Doe climbs a turnbuckle, playing to the roaring crowd!]

[Commercials.]

 

[DBrunkGXW]

DT: Welcome back to Aggression! Folks, up next we've got a match between Stephen Waltz and Troy Douglas, two of Empire Pro's best and brightest stars!

MN: There's a lot of history between these guys. Douglas has won two matches in which Waltz was involved, but Waltz has never been directly pinned.

DT: That's right, Mike. Waltz is out to avenge Douglas' first two wins, and Douglas is out to become the first man ever to pin young Stephen Waltz. What say we go to the ring?



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

Stephen Waltz vs. Troy Douglas​

TONY FATORA: Ladies and gentleman, the following contest is scheduled for one fall.

[At the sound of the impactful "One Armed Man (Play On)" by Project 86, the stage becomes the origin of a spectacular laser light show of blue and white shades of color. From the entrance, Terry "The Idol" Anderson steps into the spotlight, meeting the crowd with a stern pose, flexing the muscles hidden under his leisure suit. Coming to his side is Stephen Waltz, who steps into the light and looks around with his arms on his waist. The face of the young Waltz looks excited, and eager to be in the ring. His manager, Anderson, flashes him a thumbs up, and does a little dance with the music. Stephen shows him the smile, returns the gesture, and starts down the ramp. Along the way, both men high five several members of the audience stretched over the barricade. At the ring, Stephen slides in under the ropes. Terry goes up to the apron. As Waltz comes back to his feet, his manager calls him to the corner, where he's given words of encouragement from the veteran, Terry Anderson. With a proud slap on his shoulder, Terry gives him another smile, and goes down to ringside. After some stretches to get himself prepared, Stephen Waltz kneels into the corner and says a little prayer before getting ready to fight.]

TONY FATORA: Introducing first, being led to the ring by Terry "The Idol" Anderson, from Kokoma, Indiana, and weighing in at an impressive two hundred and forty four pounds, please welcome....SSSSSTEEEEEEEEPHEEEENNNNNNNNNNNNN..... WAAAAAAAAAAAAAALLLLLLTTTTTTTTZZZZ!!!!

DT: Stephen had an impressive first outing last week, winning controversially against Tyrone Walker when he got attacked by Eric Dane.

MN: This guy's good, I can tell you that. But he might have more than he can handle going against Troy Douglas.

["Kashmir" by Led Zeppelin introduces Tory Douglas. He stands proud in the entranceway, his eyes fixed on Waltz in the ring. He walks down slowly, keeping things his pace and making Waltz wait. Rolling under the bottom rope, Troy stretches in the corner, before giving himself over to the referee for a foreign object check]

TONY FATORA: And his opponent, weighing in at two hundred and sixty pounds, hailing from Greensboro North Carolina, this.... Is....TRRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOYYYYYYY DOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUGGGGGGLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!

MN: Troy’s won a lot of titles over his career, but he’s been a little unlucky thus far in Empire.

[After checking both men, the ref rings the bell. Tentatively, Douglas and Waltz circle each other, before locking horns in a collar and elbow tie up. The larger Douglas pushes Waltz back into the corner, breaking cleanly when the ref steps in. They lock up again in the centre of the ring, Douglas again pushing Waltz back, but as the ref tries for the clean break, Waltz reverses Douglas into the corner, before punching him in the gut and hiptossing him out to the centre of the ring]

DT: Great show of strength there by Waltz, sending the larger man over with ease it looked like.

MN: Yeah, but Troy pushed him back. Both guys have footballing backgrounds, and both are very similar. Whoever wins this one deserves it.

[Shrugging off the impact, Troy rises quickly. The two combatants lock horns again, this time Troy locking in a side headlock, grinding Waltz’s neck. Waltz moves himself and Douglas back to the ropes, and tries to slingshot him off; to no avail, however, with Douglas again wrenching in the headlock. Waltz connects with three forearms to the kidneys, pushing Douglas away, before charging in with a clothesline]

DT: Douglas ducking the clothesline. As Waltz rebounds... NICE back body drop there. Waltz rises, and Douglas cuts him off there with a kick square to the side of the head.

MN: Nice action so far. Douglas off the ropes... nice drop toe hold. Must be painful.

DT: What?

MN: Dropping your toes.

DT: How long do you spend working on those?

MN: About an hour per show.

[Waltz floats over, locking in a side head lock of his own. Troy rolls out of it, locking in a hammerlock, which Waltz immediately counters with a hammerlock himself. He drives his knee into Douglas’ shoulder, applying more and more pressure, as Douglas cringes in pain, shifting his position on the mat. Waltz follows him, keeping the hold on, before rising, stomping on Troy’s shoulder. Waltz then lifts Douglas, hooking him in a front face lock, which Douglas counters with a northern lights suplex!]

DT: One... TWO.... Kickout at two there. Easy kick out by Waltz, as Douglas now looks to mount some offence.

MN: Douglas’ shoulder’s gotta be hurting after that, yo.

DT: Here.

MN: Huh? [Papers can be heard being ripped] A yo-yo?

DT: [whistles]

[Oblivious to the frivolity amongst the announce team, Douglas rises, scoring with a clothesline, shaking out his left shoulder, trying to get the blood flowing again. As Waltz gets to his feet, Douglas kicks him in the gut, moving behind Waltz, and hitting a powerful tiger suplex, shaking his arm again on the mat. As he and Waltz get to their feet, Douglas throws a punch, hitting Stephen squarely in the jaw. Another right, and Stephen stumbles back to the ropes. Troy whips him to the other side, leapfrogging him on the rebound]

DT: Spinebuster switches the momentum back to Waltz.

MN: Hey, this is fun.

DT: The match?

MN: No, the yo-yo. Man, this is great.

DT: Grr....

[Floating over into a cover, Waltz gets a two count. Lifting Douglas off the mat, he plants him with a THUNDEROUS DDT, before lifting him again, whipping him into the far corner. He moves in slowly, connecting with three hard rights, before driving his shoulder into Douglas’ gut repeatedly. A snapmare out of the corner, and Waltz somersaults over, snapping Douglas’ neck and head over. Troy holds his head, yelling in pain, as Stephen focuses back on the shoulder, applying an arm bar and driving his elbow into Douglas’ shoulder]

DT: Waltz here working over the shoulder with those shoulders... nice arm wringer there. And not a word out of you, Mike.

MN: Me?

DT: I’m ignoring you.

MN: I bet Douglas wishes he could ignore that pain. Having your shoulder driven into the corner like that has gotta smart.

[Douglas slumps into the corner, as Waltz lifts him to the top rope. Mounting the corner, Waltz finds himself smacked right across the face, as Douglas fights back with some purely powerful punches. Stunned, Waltz can’t help but be pushed off the ropes, as Douglas readies himself on the top strand]

DT: SHOOTTING STAR!!! One... TWO... THRKICKOUT!! And Douglas looks groggy after that, taking his time to set Waltz up... snap suplex out into the centre of the ring by Douglas.

MN: Sweet move there, that shooting star. Better than some big guys who try that. It’s soo easy to break your neck with that one. Douglas now with a fist drop.

[Building momentum, Douglas lifts Waltz up, slamming him to the mat, dropping a quick elbow to the sternum. Moving to the corner, Douglas waits for Waltz, charging in with a tackle. Waltz, however, sidesteps, as Troy crashes into the ring post shoulder first. Pressing the advantage, Waltz applies another arm lock, stretching Douglas’ shoulder. With a veteran move, Douglas grabs hold of the rope, forcing the break. The ref reprimands Waltz, who moves in, ignoring the stripe-shirted one, only to be met with a kick to the gut, followed by a turning kick to the head]

DT: Douglas following up with a...what IS this?

MN: Looks like a spin to me.

DT: A giant swing? Not often you see one of these. Round and round and round and round they go, where Waltz stops... face first slingshot into the corner. Douglas holding on...NICE variant on the backbreaker, using Waltz’s momentum out of the corner to drop him straight across Douglas’ knees.

[Douglas lets Waltz slump to the mat, laying in some quick boots to the back. Dragging Waltz to the centre of the ring, Douglas signals to the crowd with a cut-throat, before stepping through Waltz’s legs, turning him over into a Scorpion Death Lock. Waltz screams in pain as Douglas leans back, the ref checking to see if Waltz wants to give up]

DT: Scorpion Deathlock - shades of Hornet here! Waltz in pain here... fighting it... he’s CRAWLING to the ropes. GREAT back and forth action, this is what Empire Pro is about.

MN: Making it... YES!!!

DT: Waltz making it to the ropes?

MN: No, I got the yo-yo rewound. And I thought you were ignoring me.

DT: .... I hate you, you know that?

[Breaking the hold, Douglas lets Waltz use the ropes to get to his feet. Both men breathe heavily, as Douglas kicks Waltz in the gut. He whips him into the far corner, charging in, only to meet the pads, as Waltz steps to the side. On the rebound, he catches Douglas with a belly-to-belly suplex...but he’s too tired to go for the cover!!]

DT: Both men down, and the ref starts the count. One...

Two...

Thee...

Four...

Five...

MN: WOW, these two have been close. Neither man able to get a definite advantage here.

DT: Six...

Seven... Waltz makes it to his feet. He lifts Douglas up, and SCORES with a stiff forearm. Whips Douglas to the ropes.. Douglas ducks under... BIG powerslam there by Waltz. One...

TWO...

THR... NO!! A looong two count there, and Waltz can’t believe it!!

[Enraged, Waltz slaps the mat, telling the ref that it was a three count. Behind him, Douglas recovers somewhat, rolling him up in a backslide]

DT: TWO... NO!! Kickout by Waltz that time. Inside cradle by Douglas...reversed by Waltz... two count.

MN: Aww, man, this is too good. Even makes me want to put down the yo-yo.

DT: YEEE-HAAAW!!!!

MN: It was you who gave me the yo-yo, man.

DT: ...damn you.

[Both men rise quickly. They exchange right hands, until Waltz manages to rock Douglas, whipping him in to the corner. He follows in, only to be met with a boot to the face. Douglas quickly puts Waltz into a standing headscissors, hooking his arms as he climbs to the second rope]

DT: END OF THE ROAD!!! One...

TWO...

THREE!!! TROY DOUGLAS WINS IT!!!

[Sound effect: Bell Ringing. *dingdingdingding*]

TONY FATORA: Your winner.... TRRRROOOOOOOOOOOYYYY..... DDOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGLLLLLLLLLAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!



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

DT: A GREAT showing there by two of the best and brightest in this industry. Troy Douglas becomes the first man to pin Stephen Waltz, but Waltz was unlucky there not to walk away with the victory.

MN: Yeah. THAT’S the reason to watch Empire Pro. You get the best and brightest.

DT: Yes, the wrestlers ARE good, aren’t they?

MN: Yeah, and so’s this...

DT: DON’T SAY YO-YO!!!

MN: I was gonna say the next match had some more of the best and brightest.

DT: Well, in that case, you're right. When we come back, it'll be the Tag-Team Titles on the line! That's next!

[Commercials.]

 

[DBrunkGXW]

(Cut to a conference room, backed by a large screen. EPW General Manager Paul Freeman sits on a chair beside said screen. A title belt rests in his lap, roughly shield-shaped and gleaming with gold and silver.)

FREEMAN: Hello, everyone. As many of you have no doubt heard, we here at Empire Pro Wrestling have made the decision to bring a new title into the fold.

[Holds up the title for the camera...]

FREEMAN: This is the Empire Pro Wrestling World Cruiserweight Title. In the interest of generating interest in cruiserweight action and showcasing new and lesser-known talent, we've assembled many of the finest athletes from around the world to compete in what we like to call the All Nations Cup Tournament. The rules are as follows. The eight athletes will be broken up into two squads of four - Red Squad and Blue Squad. The tournament will be comprised of four rounds. In round one, there will be four singles matches between members of the two squads. Each victory will earn a point for the squad represented by the victor. Round two will feature two tag-team matches. Each tag match is worth two points for the winning squad. The third round will feature an eight-man tag-team elimination match, with each elimination worth two points. After that, the team with the most points will go on to wrestle each other in a four-way ladder match for the World Cruiserweight Championship at the upcoming Pay Per View event, Unleashed.

[Tapping a button on his console, Freeman turns to the screen, which lights up.]

FREEMAN: Now let's introduce you to the talents taking part in the tournament.

[Cut to a full-screen video wall. Cue up: "Around The World" - Daft Punk. Various shots of the World Cruiserweight Title and a ladder are shown, red-and-blue energy racing in the background.]

[Cutto: A racing red background. An onscreen block of text appears, reading "RED SQUAD" in white-rimmed red lettering.]

[Cutto: A familiar athlete of British descent. Cutto: Karl Brown drilling Adam Benjamin with the Dragon's Bite. Cutto: Brown and Christian Sands going hold-for-hold in MCW. Cutto: A still photo of a smiling Brown highlighted by text: "KARL BROWN - UNITED KINGDOM - TEAM CAPTAIN".]

[Cutto: Another familiar face, this one American. Cutto: Bryan Storms destroying someone with a corkscrew Death Valley Driver. Cutto: Storms and his partner Johansson laying out the CrimsoN Calling. Cutto: A still photo of Storms with a block of text: "BRYAN STORMS - UNITED STATES".]

[Cutto: A slim bald man in grey and fuchsia trunks. Cutto: The man scooping up a competitor and delivering a cradle piledriver in a Trans Japan ring. Cutto: The man exchanging kicks with a Japanese wrestler. Cutto: A still photo of the man with a block of text: "ALEX WILLIAMS - CANADA".]

[Cutto: A prettyboyish blond man, flanked by a blonde bimbo. Cutto: The blond man coming off the top with a corkscrew senton. Cutto: The man sailing down a mountain on a snowboard. Cutto: A still photo of the man and the woman with a block of text: "BRIAN HALE - UNITED STATES"]

[Cutto: A racing blue background. A block of text appears, reading "BLUE SQUAD" in white-rimmed blue lettering.]

[Cutto: Yet another familiar face, though one ususally associated with a huge Russian. Cutto: Erik Black coming off the top with a moonsault. Cutto: Black and Dalkichev battling the Monsta Boyz in MCW. Cutto: A still photo of Black with a block of text: "ERIK BLACK - UNITED STATES - TEAM CAPTAIN".]

[Cutto: A Japanese man, his chest riddled with nasty scars. Cutto: The man dropping someone in an fWo ring with an inverted Asai DDT. Cutto: The man coming off the top rope to flatten someone with a 450 splash. Cutto: A still photo of the man with a block of text: "KOJI TAMURA - JAPAN".]

[Cutto: A svelte black man in tribal robes and headgear. Cutto: The man, now in African-themed tights, standing in a WFW ring. Cutto: The man holding a 7' blond man in a textbook armbar. Cutto: A still photo of the man with a block of text: "MIGHTY IMPALA - COTE D'IVOIRE"]

[Cutto: An American man, fairly nondescript. Cutto: The man bringing someone up with a fisherman's suplex, hitting a rolling DDT from it. Cutto: The man holding up the DWO United States Title. Cutto: A still photo of the man with a block of text: "JAMES SALENSKY - UNITED STATES".]

[Cutto: A panorama shot of all eight men, the Cruiserweight Title flickering behind them.]

[The music fades out as we cut back to Freeman.]

FREEMAN: And there you have it. The eight men you just saw will begin competing for the Cruiserweight Title next week. I hope you all enjoy it. Now let's get back to the show.

[Cut to ringside.]



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

DT: And there you have it, folks - a look at the eight men who will face off in the All Nations Cup Tournament beginning on the next episode of Aggression.

MN: That stuff's gonna rock, Wendyman. Cruiserweights are the crazay, yo.

DT: Mike.

MN: Yeah?

DT: PLEASE. Stop being such a poser, would you?

MN: I am not a Poser! I'll have you know I was made in Adobe Photoshop!

DT: ...That one went over my head.

MN: Yeah. I can tell. My wit is too much for you, Biggie Size Fries Man.

DT: Right. Let's just move on. Folks, the tag-team titles are on the line in this next match, as it's Blitz challenging the Crimson Calling! Let's hop to it!



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

EPW World Tag-Team Championship
The Crimson Calling (C) vs Blitz​

[Fade in on the ring as Tony Fatora stands in the center]

DT: Man oh man, we are on to ou rnext match up here on aggression!

MN: Yeah, hopefully these two will be a bit more interesting

DT: All of the matches have been interesting.

MN: Yeah...whatever just taking up valueable time, can we just get this match going already?

DT: Ok..Ok!

TONY FATORA: The following tag team match up is scheduled for one fall! Making their way to the ring with a combined weight of 662 pounds. BLLLIIIIITTTTTZZZZ!!!!!

[CUE UP: “Otherworld”. The lights go out, red and blue lights go off on the stage, spotlights fall on the entrance way. Pyrotechnics fly from the sides of the entrance, and Blitz stands on the stage with Leonard in the middle. Another pyrotechnic explosion goes off as the three men walk down to the ring, Jecht and Max stepping over the top rope, standing in the center of the ring as another explosion fires off from the turnbuckle posts. Lights to come back up, as the music fades.]

TONY FATORA: And their opponents!

[CUE UP: "Slip in Sin" by Pulse Ultra the lights fade to black. A red display illuminates the stage. Tension in the music builds to a climax, and as the song moves into full electronic symphony, red fireworks shoot from the stage to the ceiling, exploding in scarlet fire above the heads of the audience. The spotlight hits the stage as the Crimson Calling, Erik Black and Ivan Dalkichev, step out of the entry way and come onto the stage. Nathan Fear, follows them out.]

TONY FATORA: With a combined weight of 775 pounds! THE CRIMSOOOON CALLLLLLING!

[SFX: DING DING!]

DT: The ref breaking the tag teams apart as the bell is sounded, Erik Black facing off Jecht. Black tieing up with Jecht.

MN: Boring....

[Black grabs Jecht and Snap Suplexs him. Erik lifts Jacht up yet again for ANOTHER Snap Suplex, Black lifts Jecht up again and holds him up nailing a Vertical Suplex.]

DT: And Black with a hat trick, those Suplexs with great power from Erik Black, Black with the cover 1....kick-out by Jecht.

[Black pulls Jecht to his corner and tags Ivan. Ivan starts Mud hole Stomping on Jecht. Ivan grabs Jecht by his hair and lifts him up.]

MN: That’s right, cheating bastards. I love it!

DT: Ivan using the hair of Jecht to lift him up. Ivan locking his hands around Jecht body bear hugging him. Ivan with the Belly to Belly Overhead Suplex. Jecht needs to make a tag as he is looking like a rag doll.

MN: Duh....He looks like a rag doll cause he sucks.

[Ivan locks in a Sharpshooter. The referee asks Jecht if he gives up. Max runs out of his corner, The ref stops Max. Erik and Ivan begin to double team Jecht as Ivan holds Jecht Black punches him.]

DT: Ivan and Black taking advantage of the referee’s turned back.

MN: Now now, they're just helping up a fellow competitor.

DT: Oh, bull. Ivan lifting up Jecht and Irish Whipping him into a corner. Ivan now is pulling Jecht to the top. Jecht is fighting. Jecht getting hold of Ivan. Jecht trying to lift Ivan from the top turnbuckle... Can't get it! Too much weight! That's a 550-pound man - SO JECHT TAKES HIM OFF THE TOP WITH A NECKBREAKER INSTEAD! JECHT WITH THE COVER! 1.....2... NO! ERIK BLACK BREAKING THE COUNT!

[Jecht gets up and wobbles over to tag Max. Ivan stands up and locks his hands around Jecht and German Release Suplexs him away from the corner. Ivan tags Black back in as the both start kicking Jecht.]

DT: Erik Black is back in this match up as he lifts Jecht to his feet. Black with a Clothesline the chest of Jecht. Jecht up as Erik Irish whips him into the ropes. Blind tag by Max. Max rushing in as he Clotheslines Erik Black!

[Ivan rushes in the ring as Max stuns him with a Shoulder Block. Ivan rolls out of the ring as does Jecht. Erik and Max exchange punches. Max ducks and lifts up Black and hits a Spinebuster Slam.]

MN: OUCH! He'll be feeling THAT one in the morning.

DT: Max with the cover 1..2..kickout by Erik Black. Jecht and Ivan n the outside. Ivan with the Toe Kick and lifting Jecht above his head. Ivan rushing toward the steel rings steps! IVAN HAS JUST THROWN JECHT HEADFIRST INTO THE RING STEPS!

[Black Irish Whips Max into the ropes Max rebounds and goes to Clothesline Black. Black ducks as Ivan nails a Big Boot to the face of Max.]

DT: WOW! Max is out cold. Erik Black on the top rope Ivan now putting Max on his shoulders and walking towards Black.

[Black hooks Max and jumps off hitting the Crimson Crasher]

MN: BLACK WITH THE CRIMSON CRASHER. 1......2......3!!!

TONY FATORA: Here are your winners Ivan Dalkichev and Erik Black. THE CRIIMMSSSONN CALLLING!



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

DT: A big win for the Crimson Calling, as Blitz will just have to try again another day.

MN: Man, I almost thought they were gonna do it that time.

DT: We've got to go to a commercial break - don't go away!

[Commercials.]

 

[DBrunkGXW]

DT: Welcome back to Aggression, everyone! Mike, it’s time to find out just who Adam Benjamin will have to face at Empire Pro’s upcoming pay-per-view spectacular with this triple threat match!
MN: Marx has it in the bag. Luke Skywalker and Downtown Brown don’t have half of Jonny’s brains and class between them.

DT: We’ll see, Mike. Take it away with the introductions, Tony Fatora!



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

#1 Contender - EPW Intercontinental Championship
Triple Threat Single Elimination Match
"Gentleman" Jonathan Marx vs. Karl "The Dragon" Brown vs. Tyrone Walker​

TF: The following is a Triple Threat Match scheduled for one fall...and will determine the number one contender to the EPW Intercontinental Title. Introducing first...

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

TF: Hailing from Nottingham, England and weighing in at 211 pounds...KARL “THE DRAGOOOOOOOONNN” BROOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWNNNNN!!!!

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

TF: His opponent, originating from Detroit, Michigan...HE IS... TYROOOOOOOOOONNNNNEEEE WAAAAAAALLLLLKEEEEERRRR!!!!

[“Where It’s Goin Down” fades out into the sounds of “Only Happy When it Rains” by Garbage as the fans boo profusely the entrance of FWI’s 2003 Rookie of the Year.]

TF: There opponent...residing in Princeton, New Jersey...FW Illustrated’s Reigning Rookie of the Year...weighing in at 215 pounds, “THE GENTLEMAN”...JONATHAAAAAANN MAAAAAAAAARRRRRX!

[SFX: Bell rings]

DT: There’s the bell and this match in on!

MN: God, you’re so clichéd.

DT: With these three men you can expect a fast and furious match and here we go.

[All three men exchange glances with each other before Walker charges at Brown, but “The Dragon” quickly snaps him to the mat with an arm drag takedown. Brown turns around, and is met with a hip toss from Jonathan Marx, who then gets dropkicked to the mat by the freshly risen Walker.]

MN: Whoa, that was fast!

DT: Walker’s got Marx, irish whip into the ropes...and a back elbow smash knocks down the Princeton native!

MN: The Force is strong in this one.

DT: That’s nice. Walker now turns his attention to the Dragon. Running lariat, ducked by Brown, and he springboards off the second rope with a flying cross body block!

MN: From DOWN-town!

DT: Brown sends Tyrone into the corner, Walker on the rebound is hit with a NASTY spinning leg lariat from “Downtown”, excuse me, “The Dragon” Karl Brown.

[Brown brings Walker to his feet, and looks for a backdrop suplex, but Jonathan Marx clips Brown in the back of the knee! Karl writhes in pain and grabs his right knee, while “The Gentleman” grabs the staggering Tyrone Walker and drops him to the mat with a fireman’s carry before locking in a headlock.]

MN: All Hail the Emperor, Davey!

DT: Marx has that headlock applied in the center of the ring, and Karl Brown isn’t going to break this one up for now. Walker tries to fight, but Marx just clamps that move in! This is a smart move by Marx to take the energy out of the innovator Walker early in the match, Mike.

MN: To defeat opponent, apply boring headlock you must.

DT: Thanks, Master Yoda.

MN: No problem there is.

DT: Are you gonna talk like that ALL night?

MN: Naw.

DT: Thank god.

[Marx continues wrenching the neck, but now Walker is to his feet and he pushes Marx into the far ropes. Walker leapfrogs Marx on the way back, but Tyrone is met by the still hobbling Karl Brown with a big spear that knocks the wind out of Walker.]

DT: WHAT A MOVE BY KARL BROWN!

MN: I thought Downtown wasn’t going to be able to stand up anymore!

DT: Well, he’s back and establishing control! Walker’s down, and we’ve got a staredown between Jonathan Marx and Karl Brown! Brown throws a punch, blocked by Marx, and he holds onto the hand! Now, Marx and Brown linking hands as they turn on Tyrone Walker!

MN: Karnac senses a double team.

DT: They charge...BIG DOUBLE CLOTHESLINE SENDS WALKER OVER THE TOP ROPE AND CRASHING TO THE MAT!!!!

MN: Ewww...he fell on his neck! Nasty!

DT: Walker is in definite pain, Mike, I don’t know how much more we’ll see from him in this contest.

[Marx and Brown break the momentary alliance, and they begin a series of mat holds and reversals. Marx goes for an arm drag, but Brown reverses to a dragon screw. As he spins to take Marx down, Jonathan catches Karl’s head and both men go down in an odd combination between a dragon screw and an amateur-style head-and-arm takedown. Both men get up, and Marx gets control in a collar and elbow tie up, whipping Brown into the ropes.]

DT: Back body drop by Marx...NO!!!! Karl Brown gained control of his descent and hooked Marx’s legs as he hit the mat!!! ONE! TWO! THR-MARX JUST KICKS OUT!

MN: Downtown’s friggin’ nuts. I’ve never seen that before!

DT: Brown with a waistlock on Marx, Jon gets behind...schoolboy, reversed by Brown into a cradle, turned into a small package by Marx! One! Two! Kickout!

MN: Man! These two are really letting each other have it!

DT: Marx charges, and Brown gets under the clothesline attempt! Brown with a lariat, but Marx rolls under! Both men off the ropes, they BOTH miss clothesline attempts! Here comes Marx...QUEBRADA!!!! Quebrada into the Dragon’s-NOOOOO!!! Marx slips out and...DIAMOND CUTTER! The pin...

ONE...

TWO...

THR-

MN: Holy F(FCC)ing S(FCC)T!!!!

DT: Tyrone Walker just broke up that pin attempt with a top rope flipping corkscrew legdrop! He pins Marx, but Brown breaks it up with a timely elbow drop! Now Walker’s going to town on Karl Brown!

[Walker takes control by hitting an enziguiri after the Englishman blocked a kick attempt. Tyrone then dragged his opponent to his feet, sending him flying across the ring with a released one-armed German suplex which causes Brown to land on the back of his neck and head. Marx rises, and he and Walker trade looks before working over Karl Brown. After they hit a low-bridge dropkick, Marx puts Brown in vertical suplex position as Walker comes off the top rope on Karl with a flying body press. He attempts the pin, but Marx pulls him off and goes for his own pin.]

DT: Pin from Marx...

ONE...

TWO...

Walker pulls MARX off of Brown, and now they’re going at it!

MN: Luke, challenge the Emperor you must not.

DT: Arrrrggghh.

MN: I know, I’m the shiznit.

DT: Whatever. Walker and Marx are absolutely wailing at each other! Right by Walker, left by Marx, and Marx connects with a kick to the gut and whips Walker into the corner! Marx sizes him up, and a HUGE knife edged chop!

CROWD: WHOOOOOO!

DT: And another!

CROWD: WHOOOOOO!

DT: And a third chop!

CROWD: WHOOOOOO!

DT: Here comes a fourth...Walker ducks under and splashes The Gentleman into the corner!

MN: He’s going for it! Luke SKY-Walker’s gonna hit it!

DT: He sets Marx up top...SKY-Walker...NOOOOOO!!! NO!!! NO!!! In midair Jon Marx SOMEHOW reversed that move and slapped in the Marxism before hitting the mat!

MN: Wow, George Lucas really flipped his script. The Emperor wins this round!

DT: Marxism locked on tight!

MN: Even the Force can’t save Skywalker now!

DT: No, but Karl Brown can! Top Rope Diving Elbow Drop! He breaks up the hold!

[Marx now charges at Brown, but Karl grabs the top rope, pulling it down and sending Marx flying over the top rope and to the apron. Walker, now up and limping slightly, kicks Brown in the gut and tries to DDT him, but Karl springboards off the ropes and flips over into a neckbreaker. He ascends to the top turnbuckle, but instead of hitting Walker, he jumps towards the apron, splashing Marx, who has risen to that point, but now both men crash to the outside.]

DT: These three men are stepping it up tonight in Miami, as this one is just getting INSANE!

MN: Now it’s Downtown and Emperor Marx going at it at ringside!

DT: Brown with Marx...kick to the abdomen...DRAGON’S BITE!!! Dragon’s Bite on the outside of the ring! He pulls Marx up, here comes a second...NO! Marx slides out! Suplex from Marx...blocked by Brown!

MN: Hey look, Luke’s gonna fly! I guess he’s a Super Jedi!

DT: Here comes Tyrone Walker...TOPE ATOMICA SUICIDA!!! All three men are laid out on the outside!

MN: To quote Beavis and Butthead: “huhuh, that was cool.”

DT: Mike Neely, always good for insightful and tactful cultural references.

MN: I also do weddings and Bar Mitzvahs.

DT: Walker and Brown now up, and Karl sends Tyrone face first into the guardrail with a drop toe hold! Irish whip by Brown...reversed by Walker and Brown hits the steel ringpost!

MN: Heh. That made a funny sound.

DT: God, I hate you.

[Walker and Marx now both slide into the ring as Brown staggers up. Walker tries for a suplex, but Marx floats over and shoves Tyrone into the ropes, catching him with a tilt-a-whirl piledriver before hooking in the figure four leg lock. Walker looks in pain, and comes near tapping out, but Brown darts into the ring and pulls the Detroit, Michigan native out of the hold before he can submit!]

MN: C’mon, that was over!

DT: Karl Brown made a real smart move right there to save his stake in this match. He now goes to work on Walker, irish whip...and a big kneelift! Standing waistlock applied, and Brown slams Tyrone Walker to the mat with a spinning modified gourdbuster! Brown turns around, and is met with a knee to the gut by Marx. He hooks Brown...SLINGSHOT SUPLEX!!! The pin...

ONE...

TWO...

THREEEEE!!!! NO!!! NO!!! Kickout by Karl Brown!

MN: That one definitely came from WAY Downtown, Davey.

DT: That’s getting REALLY old, Mike.

MN: Don’t care.

DT: Didn’t think so.

MN: Good.

[Walker and Marx now take turns beating on Karl Brown, eventually hitting a tandem spinebuster and a double brainbuster. Walker winks at Marx for a moment, faking him out by pretending to go after the fallen Brown but instead hitting Marx with a superkick and then setting him up the corner and hitting the AIR-Walker for a very close two count.]

DT: Tyrone Walker is FIRMLY in control of this altercation. He now has Karl Brown, and he hits him with the patented Stunnerplex!

MN: Okaaaaaayyyy, that just looked weird.

DT: Agreeed, but I think it made an impact just the same, as Walker is now calling for the Broken Arrow! Brown is up...HE FLOATS OVER!!!! Wait a minute... CROSSBHMYGOD!!!! Brown went for the springboard cross-body but misjudged the flight and Jonathan Marx stung him with a dropkick!

MN: Well, you know what they say. You go high risk, you pay the price.

DT: Whoa. Did you just give real insightful commentary?

MN: Yup.

DT: Holy freaking hell. Where are the flying pigs?

[Marx then goes to town on Karl Brown, hitting a dragon suplex and then rolling into a butterfly lock. After a short time, Brown uses an elbow jab to break the hold. Brown tries to rally, but Marx slips under a sidekick attempt and...]

DT: MARXISM!!! It’s in the center of the ring!

MN: Emperor Marx is on the road to Adam Benjamin, Burgerboy!

DT: Karl Brown is DESPERATELY trying to power out...and...he...DOES!!!! Marxism reversed into a modified cradle...

ONE...

TWO...

THREEEEEEE!!!!! WAIT!!! Walker pulled Marx away in the nick of time, and Karl Brown is PISSED at Tyrone Walker! Brown with the irish whip and a spinning heel kick that drops Walker! He’s got him set up...Chicken Wing Suplex is...REVERSED by Walker into a neckbreaker!

MN: These three are just pulling sh-

DT: FAMILY SHOW!!!!

MN: Shenanigans out of the woodwork!

DT: Walker sets Brown on the top, he’s signaling for a second SKY-Walker!!!

MN: May the Force be with you!

DT: Here it comes...and Karl Brown AMAZINGLY flips out of it! Lands on his feet - NO, Walker with a kick to the gut! Brings Brown up! Supleeeexxxxx-NO, BROWN FLOATS THROUGH AND COMES DOWN SMOOTHLY INTO THE DRAGON'S BITE!!! WHAT A MANEUVER!!! Karl Brown WILL get his rematch with Adam Benja-WHAT THE HELL!!

MN: The Emperor rules the day!

[CUT TO: Split-screen replay of Jonathan Marx waiting in the corner, then hitting a high flipping dropkick that sent Karl Brown tumbling to the arena floor.]

DT: Marx covers....

ONE...

TWO...

THREE!!!!!! Jonathan Marx STEALS this match from Karl Brown, and he’s the number one contender and will receive a shot at Adam Benjamin’s IC Title at our NEXT Pay-Per-View Extravaganza!!!

MN: The coronation is about to begin, boys and girls.

FATORA: The winner of the match via pinfall, and the NUMBER ONE CONTENDER to the IC Title...“THE GENTLEMAN” JONATHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANN MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRXXXXX!!!!!!



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

DT: What a match between these three, but in the end it's Jonathan Marx who's headed to Unleashed to face off against Adam Benjamin!

MN: Hail to the Emperor! Woot woot!

DT: We've got to take our last commercial break, but when we come back, it's main event time! Sands and Benjamin! Beast and Cruise! It's NEXT!

MN: YEAH, baby!



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

[Cut to Lindsay Troy's locker room. The crowd pops as Troy steps through the door, having slipped out a moment ago to grab a water. She seats herself on a chair, but frowns as she notices something on her dresser: A folded slip of paper. Reaching over, she unfolds it and reads it, then snorts disdainfully and tosses it aside, getting up again to depart the room.]

[As Troy leaves, the camera zooms in on the paper. It reads as follows:]

Lindsay,
You still haven't picked up your shoes from under my bed. And your ass is still fine.

Your dreamboat,
~ Christian

[Commercials.]

 

[DBrunkGXW]

DT: Welcome back, everyone! As promised, it's time for the main event of the evening!
MN: Oh man, this one's gonna rock the house! Sands is gonna teach Beast some respect tonight, mark my words!

DT: I think it's the other way around, Mike. Despite his protests, our World's Champion has shown Beast and Lindsay Troy nothing but disrespect, and Beast doesn't like it one bit.

MN: Yeah, but Sands has Benji at his back!

DT: And Beast has Cruise. Seems fair to me.

MN: Only in your mind. It's obvious which team is cooler.

DT *sigh* Take it away, Tony Fatora.



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

Christian Sands & Adam Benjamin vs. Beast & Cameron Cruise​

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

(The haunting strains of "Dark Machine" by Paul Oakenfold cue up, and the lights in the arena go out; the GlobalTron lights up with an image of Christian Sands gazing down from a distance, his face illuminated as if by car headlights through a window. After the first fourteen seconds of the song, a red strobelight kicks in. Smoke machines begin blowing a drifting mist horizontally across the ramp as Christian Sands emerges, striding down the ramp with the mist curling about his feet. He vaults into the ring over the top rope and climbs a turnbuckle, raising the World Title to the booing crowd.)

TONY FATORA: Introducing first, from Barrie, Ontario, Canada... He weighs in at two hundred and seventy pounds... He is the reigning Heavyweight Champion OF the World... He is CHRRRRRRRISTIAAAAAANNNNNNN... SAAAAAAAAAAANDSSSSSSS!!!

(Cue up: "Lose Yourself" - Eminem, evoking boos from the fans. "Yours Truly" Adam Benjamin makes his way slowly to the ring. Adam is wearing two English flag bandana's one that cover his head and the other that covers the lower part of his face revealing only his stone cold eyes. Adam makes his way into the ring and stands firm in his corner waiting for the bell to ring.)

TONY FATORA: Introducing his tag-team partner... He hails from England... He weighs in at two hundred and forty-five pounds and is the reigning Intercontinental Champion... He is ADAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMM... BEEEEEEEEEEEEN-JAMIIIIINNNNNNNNNN!!!

(Cue up: "Headstrong" - Trapt. The crowd pops loudly as Cameron Cruise strides confidently to the ring, trash-talking Sands and Benjamin before playing to the fans.)

TONY FATORA: And their opponents! First, from Jacksonville, North Carolina... He weighs two hundred and forty-nine pounds... He is CAMEROOOOOOOOOOOONNNNN... CRUUUUUUUUUUUUISE!!!

(The arena lights fade down to darkness, then slowly come back up in deep blue as the sound of chanting monks fill the arena, and the video screens light up with "BEAST" flashing in different styles and colors of text, mixed in with video clips of Beast executing various moves on his opponents. Immediately, the crowd ERUPTS into a huge ovation. The chanting monks play for about 15 seconds, then fade into Nickelback's "Figure You Out", and as the opening guitar chords hit, a blast of red and white pyro go off around the stage area, then Beast walks through the smoke down the ramp and to the ring. Once in the ring, Beast salutes the roaring fans by touching his fist to his chest over his heart a couple times before raising his hand in the air.)

TONY FATORA: And finally, from Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada! He weighs in at two hundred and ninety pounds... He is accompanied by the Queen of the Ring, the ever-lovely Lindsay Troy... THISSSSSS... ISSSSS... BEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSST!!!

[SFX: *DINGDINGDING* - Bell rings.]

DT: There's the bell, and these fans are roaring as we get this match underway!

MN: Kick their butts, champs!

[Sands and Cruise start the match. They circle for a moment, then lock up. Sands grabs a hammerlock immediately, wrenching the hold in. Grunting, Cruise goes for an arm wringer reversal, but Sands catches him in mid-move and drops him with a Russian legsweep. The champion spins to his feet and kicks Cruise in the head, then lays his arm across the canvas and drops a pair of knees across the elbow before boosting himself off the mat, delivering a high-angle knee smash to the arm.]

DT: Sands wasting no time here, going right to work on Cameron Cruise's right arm!

MN: THE ARRRRRM BREAKERRRRRR!!! WUHA!!!

DT: Never speak again.

MN: Sorry, Davey, but I gotta earn my keep.

[Sands drives another heavy knee into Cruise's arm, evoking a loud yell from the former CSWA Presidential Champion. Taking the exclamation as a sign of success, Sands drops an elbow across Cruise's shoulder before clasping the arm in both hands, leaning back for an armbar with Cruise still lying stomach-first on the mat.]

DT: Great psychology here from the World's Champion, as he's trying to keep Cruise grounded and hyperextend that arm back.

MN: He's trying to snap the damn thing backwards, that's what he's doin'!

[Gritting his teeth, Cruise rolls over to push Sands into a pinning predicament, but the Canadian kicks out at one. Both men come to their feet. Sands throws a punch, but Cruise hammers him back with an axehandle, following with a pair of knife-edged chops that draw woos from the crowd. He pauses after two, shaking out his right arm in an attempt to get the blood flowing again.]

DT: Cruise chopping away at Sands now, trying to fight back, but you can see that the right arm is starting to get to him.

[Taking advantage of Cruise's momentary distraction, Sands fires back, slamming Cruise across the chest with a brutal chop. He whips Cruise into an empty corner and tags in Adam Benjamin, who charges in and stuns Cruise with a corner clothesline, then takes him by the arm and drags him to the canvas with an armwringer. The Intercontinental Champion goes to work, stomping away at Cruise's shoulder with big boots.]

DT: Benjamin in now, and he's targeting that arm of Cruise's!

MN: When in doubt, go for the soft spot, I always say.

[Smirking, Benjamin runs to the ropes and comes back with a leaping knee drop towards Cruise's arm, but Cruise quickly rolls out of the way. Benjamin crashes to the canvas on his knees, and Cruise snaps him all the way down with a DDT before rolling to his corner. He makes the tag to Beast, drawing huge pops from the crowd.]

DT: Oh, Benjamin misses the running knee drop - and HERE COMES BEAST!!!

MN: Uh-oh! Don't tell me Benjamin's gonna feel the RAAHR!

[Beast sets himself in a three-point stance as Benjamin regains his footing, then charges and clotheslines the young Englishman nearly out of his boots. With a barked "Git up!", Beast clotheslines Benjamin a second time. A third clothesline sends Benjamin rolling into an empty corner, where Beast proceeds to stomp a mudhole in him.]

DT: Benjamin's trapped in the corner, and Beast is taking those massive boots to him! He's all fired up!

MN: That Beast is an animal, plain and simple. Look at his sloping forehead. He's a Neanderthal.

DT: No he is NOT! Beast is a very intelligent man with a great deal of talent.

MN: OOGA BOOGA!!! ME RAAHR!!!

DT: It's all I can do to keep from kicking you.

[Not wasting a moment, Beast grabs Benjamin by the shoulders and drags him to his feet, delivering a rough elbow smash in the corner. He promptly beels Benjamin back into the center of the ring, then pauses, pointing directly at Sands with a shouted challenge: "You're next!" Sands flips him the bird.]

DT: What a beel by Beast - and it looks like the tension between Beast and Sands is starting to flare up!

MN: It's been doing that all month. What planet have YOU been on, bucko?

[A quick pull from Beast brings Adam Benjamin to his feet. However, the Intercontinental Champion employs one of the most venerable weapon's in the arsenal of every good heel: The thumb to the eyes. The maneuver stuns Beast, allowing Benjamin to take him down with a neckbreaker.]

DT: Dammit, Benjamin going to the eyes!

MN: What? Nooooo. He hit Beast in the NOSE with that thumb, David. The NOSE, I say!

DT: Are you blind, man? He went right to the eyes!

MN: The nose.

DT: You're hopeless.

[Beast comes to his feet, and Benjamin presses his advantage, moving in to stun Beast with a running forearm; however, the big man does not go down. Frowning, Benjamin tries again, but Beast quickly recovers and turns him inside out with a clothesline! Snorting, Beast heads back to his corner, where he makes the tag to Cameron Cruise.]

DT: Oh, huge clothesline from Beast! The tag made and - where's Cruise going?

[Upon receiving the tag, Cruise clambers to the top turnbuckle. As Benjamin stumbles to his feet, Beast takes Cruise from the buckle and presses him over his head, then launches him at Benjamin with a crossbody! Cruise hits Benjamin dead-on as the crowd roars!]

DT: WOW! Missile-launcher crossbody, courtesy of Beast and Cameron Cruise! What teamwork between these two!

MN: That was funky!

DT: Cruise covers - One -

TWO -

NO, Benjamin kicks out!

[Before Cruise can react, Benjamin scampers to his corner and tags back to Sands. The World Champion hits the ring and immediately catches Cruise in the chin with a big boot, knocking him to the canvas. Flipping a middle finger to Beast, Sands places a knee on Cruise's chest and starts slugging away. An angered Beast attempts to come in and punish Sands, but the referee restrains him. This allows Sands to cheat a little, as he uses the ref's distraction as an opportunity to choke Cruise against the mat.]

DT: Dammit ref, look at the cheating! Sands has that illegal chokehold on Cruise and the ref doesn't even see it!

MN: That's called smart wrestling!

[The referee turns back to the action, but Sands quickly releases the hold, pulling Cruise to his feet and whipping him into a corner. He charges in for a running shoulder thrust, but Cruise boosts up and over, catching Sands out of the corner with a sunset flip!]

DT: WAIT A MINUTE!!! SUNSET FLIP BY CRUISE!!! ONE - TWO - KICKOUT BY SANDS!!!

MN: Whew! That was close!

[Both men roll to their feet. An angered Sands charges Cruise with a clothesline, but Cam quickly ducks and hooks the arm, taking Sands to the mat with a backslide!]

DT: CRUISE BACKSLIDES!!! ONE - TWO - KICKOUT!!!

[Again, both men come to their feet. This time, Sands meets Cruise with a kick to the gut, scooping him up for a suplex, but Cruise floats through and drives a forearm into Sands' back. Grunting, Cruise hoists Sands up and drills him to the canvas with a hard back suplex!]

DT: Oh! Big back suplex from Cruise, as he's got the champion reeling!

MN: This can't be happening! I can't watch!

DT: I don't think Sands can believe it either!

[The look of surprise and pain on Sands' face says all that needs to be said. He comes to his feet, holding the back of his head with one hand. Immediately, Cruise moves in and snap-suplexes him, floating over into a cover.]

DT: There's the cover by Cruise! One - TWO - Sands kicks out!

MN: Tell me when it's over!

[Cruise has the momentum, and he knows it. He pulls Sands off the canvas and brings him up for another snap suplex, but Sands floats through and drops down behind Cruise, waistlocking him and dropping him on his face with a high-impact German suplex! He hangs on, drilling Cruise with two more Germans in sequence before releasing him.]

DT: Snap suplex - NO, Sands floats through and scores with those rolling Germans!

MN: That's more like it! I love the sound of that. Rolling Germans. Whenever I hear that I get visions of fat guys in liederhosen rolling down a hill.

DT: I knew it.

MN: Knew what?

DT: That you had a fetish for fat men in liederhosen.

MN: I, uh, I mean, uh, DO NOT!

DT: Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Mike Neely, lover of schnitzel.

[Grunting, Sands kicks Cruise in the shoulder, then tags over to Adam Benjamin. The IC Champion slips in and slaps a tight cross armbreaker on Cruise. Sands, meanwhile, flips Beast off, again prompting the big man to step in and again prompting the official to chastise him. This allows Benjamin to reach out and rest a hand on the ropes for extra leverage!]

DT: Dammit, look at the cheating! This shouldn't be allowed!

MN: It's Beast's own fault! He's distracting the official! Besides, Benjamin's just using the rope for balance.

DT: He is not-

MN: Balance.

DT: Mike-

MN: Balance.

DT: *sigh* Folks, Cameron Cruise is in big trouble here, as Adam Benjamin is using the ropes to add illegal leverage to this submission hold!

[The official finally comes to, spotting Benjamin grabbing the ropes; he calls for the immediate break. Benjamin grudgingly complies, but rolls Cruise over, applying a fujiwara armbar.]

DT: Now the fujiwara armbar from Benjamin! This hold is tearing apart Cruise's arm and shoulder - wait, where's Sands going?

[The cameras cut to the floor as Sands drops down off the apron. He circles the ring, coming up behind an unsuspecting Lindsay Troy... and with a huge ****-eating grin, he reaches out and pats her on the bottom. The fans boo, and Troy JUMPS about six feet in the air before turning to slap Sands across the face. He smirks at her and pushes her to the floor roughly.]

DT: THAT'S DISGUSTING!!! SANDS JUST SEXUALLY ASSAULTED LINDSAY TROY!!!

MN: YEAH!!! MY DAWG!!! TAP DAT ASS!!!

DT: And Beast did NOT like that!

[Seeing what happened, Beast drops off the apron, hatred blazing in his eyes as he glares daggers at Sands. The champion merely smirks as the two enemies stare down to a THUNDEROUS crowd reaction. The reaction becomes even louder as Sands and Beast suddenly start slugging away at each other, hammering each other furiously with big rights and lefts!]

DT: WE'VE GOT AN ALL-OUT BRAWL ON OUR HANDS!!! SANDS AND BEAST!!! BEAST AND SANDS!!! BEAST IS FURIOUS!!! HE WANTS TO CARVE THAT PAT AND THAT SHOVE OUT OF SANDS' HIDE!!!

MN: KICK HIS ASS, SANDS!!!

[In the ring, Benjamin still has the armbar on Cruise, but the attention is on Beast and Sands. The two brawl to the guardrail, and Beast slugs Sands over it, following him over. In a rage, Beast grabs a chair and throws it into Sands' face, knocking the champion to his hands and knees.]

DT: BEAST JUST SAILED THAT CHAIR INTO SANDS' FACE, AND THE WORLD'S CHAMPION HAS BEEN BUSTED OPEN!!!

MN: NO!!! THAT'S SICK!!! ARREST HIM!!! DISQUALIFY HIM!!! FIRE HIM!!! THIS CAN'T HAPPEN!!!

DT: Please! Sands is getting what he deserves for what he did to Lindsay Troy!

[Wiping blood from his eyes, Sands staggeringly retreats through the crowd. Beast chases him; an irate Troy is close behind. The three quickly vanish through a door into the concession area. Cut back to the ring, where Cruise is fighting out of Benjamin's armbar.]

DT: Folks, it looks like Beast and Sands have brawled into the backstage area, but we've still got a match going on in the ring!

MN: And Benji's kicking ass!

[Cruise fights his way to his feet, elbowing Benjamin in the ribs several times. He quickly executes a go-behind, dropping Benjamin to the mat with a textbook German suplex! From there, Cruise slaps on an intense STF!]

DT: THE CRUISE CONTROL!!! CRUISE CONTROL LOCKED IN-

MN: TOO CLOSE TO THE ROPES!!!

DT: Dammit, Benjamin's got his free hand on the rope! The referee's calling for the break, and Cruise gives it to him!

[Undaunted, Cruise pulls Benjamin off the canvas, setting him up for the Shipwreck. However, he can't pull Benjamin up; his arm is too numb to lift the Englishman. Benjamin quickly backdrops his way out of the hold. As Cruise staggers to his feet, Benjamin runs the ropes and smashes him in the face with the Shining Wizard!]

DT: SHINING WIZARD!!! SHINING WIZARD!!! BENJAMIN COVERS!!!

ONE!!!

TWO!!!

THREEEEEE!!! BENJAMIN PINS CAMERON CRUISE!!!

[SFX: *DINGDINGDING* - Bell rings.]

TONY FATORA: Here is your winner... CAMEROOOOOOOOOOOON... CRUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUISE!!!



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

DT: What a win for Adam Benjamin, but - hang on, folks, I'm getting word that our cameramen have caught up with the brawl in the back!

(Cut to the concession area. Beast and Christian Sands are still brawling, hammering away at each other as they brawl through the concession area. With a grunt, Beast grabs Sands and hurls him bodily into a rack of "FEEL THE RAAHR" T-shirts, causing the shirts to scatter as Sands ploughs through them. Grimly, Beast follows, but Sands grabs one of the shirts and whips it around Beast's neck, pulling back as if to use the shirt as a garrote!]

DT: SOMEONE GET SECURITY BACK THERE!!! SANDS IS TRYING TO CHOKE BEAST TO DEATH WITH A DAMN SHIRT!!!

MN: HE'S USING IT AS A GARROTE WIRE!!!

[Beast gets his hands up and attempts to claw the shirt away from his neck, but Sands grits his teeth and pulls back harder. As Beast struggles, however, Sands releases his grip and slugs him in the head, then unfolds the shirt. He stuffs it over Beast's head, hiding his face, then hooks him up and drops him with a Sand Blaster across the tile floor!]

DT: DAMMIT, DAMMIT!!! HE JUST SAND BLASTED BEAST ON THE TILE!!!

MN: THAT'S WHAT LOAFY GETS!!!

[Slowly, Sands comes to his feet, gazing down through the blood on his face at Beast's prone form. He looks up, however, as Lindsay Troy finally arrives on the scene.]

TROY: What the -

SANDS: I think it's obvious.

TROY: Bastard!

[Angrily, Troy throws a punch at Sands, but he catches her wrist. Before she can make another move, he wraps her in an embrace - with one hand on her bottom - and presses his lips against hers. If one were to look closely, one would see him trying to force his tongue into her mouth. She struggles violently and finally succeeds in pulling her head away from his.]

SANDS: Ahhh... So scrumptious.

TROY: I think I'm going to throw up.

[Roughly, Sands pushes Troy to the ground, taking a step back and smirking.]

SANDS: Oh, relax. You and I both know you love it. I am, after all... your dreamboat.

[Without waiting for a response, Sands turns and stalks off, leaving a shocked and disgusted Troy sprawled on the floor. After a moment, she spits and wipes at her mouth with the back of her hand as she rushes over to Beast.]

TROY: Marcus? ... Marcus! Marcus!

[Fade to credits, then to black, leaving us with the parting image of Troy kneeling over the fallen Beast...]

 

[DBrunkGXW]

Updated 12/7/06