Unleashed 2004 - Atlanta, GA - 5/31/04

[DBrunkGXW]

[Fadein: Darkness. Ominous drum music plays in the background. As blue light begins to filter across the screen, we see that the illumination is filtering through the walls of a cell. Soft, almost biblical chanting can be heard in the background, murmuring slowly and softly in Latin.]

"A man taunted and mocked, yet undaunted in his quest for glory."

[Cut to a montage of various clips of Beast, showing him lying bloody on the floor, victorious in a ring, and charging in slow-motion down a hall.]

"A villain seeking to deny him that which he wants most."

[Cut to a montage of Christian Sands clips, as he holds the World Title high, forces a kiss on Lindsay Troy, and sits in a chair smirking.]

"At long last... their paths meet."

[Cut back to the clip of Beast charging down a hall. The clip finishes, ending with him spearing Sands.]

[As soon as the spear connects, the shot explodes into grayscale flame, burning away the image. Behind it, the faces of Sands and Beast appear, shot in profile and staring at each other.]

"Two will enter the cage."

[With a metallic clang, the faces fade, and the steel bars of the cell slam across the screen. The music dies abruptly.]

"One will survive."

[Suddenly, the screen rips away. Cue up: "Flat On The Floor" - Nickelback. The screen completely shreds away, revealing a rapidly shifting blue grid backdrop intercut with video clips of various wrestlers, many leaving blurred after-images as they move.

Cut to Beast delivering a spear to Christian Sands.

Cut to Sands choking out Beast with a RAAHR T-shirt.

Cut to Adam Benjamin delivering the Shining Wizard to Karl Brown.

Cut to Jonathan Marx striding down the ramp.

Cut to John Doe sailing across the ring with a Van Terminator to Bryan Storms.

Cut to Storms delivering the Red Tide Rising to Doe.

Cut to Cameron Cruise and Joey Melton celebrating in the ring.

Cut to Golem and X-Ecutioner brooding in the shadows.

Cut to Blitz stalking down the ramp.

Cut to Dan Ryan sitting in an armchair, gazing thoughtfully into the camera.

Cut to the blue grid, which ceases shifting as a blue filmreel-style strip blazes across it. With a heavy thud of steel, white letters are stamped across the reel, stationary as the reel continues to roll.]





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[Cut to a camera at ringside, looking up into the rafters. A pair of blue fireballs glow to life at the top of the Georgia Dome, descending like comets. The camera follows the fireballs as they fall to explode at the foot of the ramp. Towers of blue and white pyro erupt around the entryway and EmpireTron, more showers of white sparks raining from the top of the 'Tron frame. With a series of blue bomblike effects, the pyro ceases, and the camera zooms in on the screen. Cut to wide-angle shots of the crowd. Various signs are visible, held up by fans in different sections of the arena: "BEAST VS. SANDS: THE WAR TO SETTLE THE SCORE!", "I Came To See Big Daddy English", "Hey Golem, I've Got The Precious", "JOHN DOE IS GREAT", "All Hail The Emperor!", "HARDCORE DRAGON", "X MARKS THE SPOT", "Take A Walk, Walker!", "Beast Is A Beast!", "JOEY MELTON SEZ: AGE BEFORE BEAUTY", and finally, "I Want To Have Troy Douglas' Babies".]

[The cameras cut across the blue-neon cages of the Empire Girls - Candy, Tiffany, Ruby, and Miyoko, holding on each for a moment as they dance much to the delight of the straight men in the audience.]

[Cut to ringside, where the announce booth has been set up, occupied as always by Dave Thomas and Mike Neely. Thomas has exchanged his golf shirt for a nice suit, while Neely's gone in completely the other direction, wearing jean shorts and a pineapple-patterned Hawaiian shirt. The fans behind them are waving and trying to get into the camera shot.]

DT: The sold-out Georgia Dome is on FIRE tonight, and with good reason! Welcome, everybody, to Empire Pro Wrestling's UNLEASHED, live on Pay-Per-View! I'm Dave Thomas, and with me as always is Mike Neely!

MN: Look at the CROWD in here! It's huge! I'm half-expecting people to start hanging from the rafters to fit in here!

DT: Well, can you blame 'em with the great lineup we've got for you tonight?

MN: No.

DT: Speaking of which, take a look above the ring.

[Cut to a shot of a steel cage hovering above the ring.]

DT: And there is is. The ominous steel cage, hanging there in preparation for our main event this evening!

MN: You mean the one where Beast loses AGAIN?

DT: Oh, quiet. That's coming later in the evening, folks, as Beast challenges Christian Sands for the World Title inside that very cage!

MN: Challenge. Pah.

DT: We've also got a defense of the Intercontinental Title, as Adam Benjamin faces the challenger Jonathan Marx!

MN: Woo! Big Daddy English versus the Emperor!

DT: As well, the next number-one contender for the World Title will be decided in a match between Troy Douglas, Karl Brown, and Tyrone Walker!

MN: Megatron and the Hardcore Dragon are cool, but that Jedi guy's a dick. What's up with him?

DT: The vacant Tag Titles will be up for grabs tonight in a contest between Blitz, the team of Golem and X-Ecutioner, and the team of Joey Melton and Cameron Cruise!

MN: If it were just the first two, it'd be Geeks vs. Freaks.

DT: As well, we've got a highly anticipated I Quit match between John Doe and Bryan Storms!

MN: Hopefully Storms will step on that little dwarf...

DT: Also on the show, we'll see X and Brian Hale face off. Unfortunately, we regret to inform you that Aodhan Lorigan and Blu Thundarous couldn't be here tonight, as their flight was grounded due to bad weather. Therefore, that match has been pushed through the card.

MN: I bet Thundarous is singin' the blues over THAT one! Hah!

DT: With that in mind, let's go to the ring for our first match - a double debut match, as "The Thriller" Braden Kincaid faces off against "Your Hero" Sebastian Dodd. Take it away, Tony!



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"The Thriller" Braden Kincaid vs. "Your Hero" Sebastian Dodd​

TF: The following contest will be contested for one fall! Introducing first...

[CUE UP: “Stellar” by Incubus. After a brief pause, Sebastian Dodd emerges from the entranceway and walks down the ramp to a mild chorus of boos.]

TF: Standing 6’2” and weighing in at 245 pounds, from New York City, New York, “YOUR HERO” ... SEBASTIAAAAAAANNN DOOOOOOOOOOOODDDDD!!!!!!! And his opponent...

[CUE UP: “Shoot to Thrill” by AC/DC as Braden Kincaid makes his way to the ring.]

TF: Standing 6’4” and weighing 260 pounds, he hails from Toronto...Ontario...Canada...he is “THE THRILLER” BRAAAAAAAADEEEENNN KIIIIIIIIINNNNNCAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIDDDDDD!!!!!

[SFX: Bell Rings]

DT: And Unleashed is underway!

MN: So, this Kincaid guy is supposed to be an action star, right?

DT: Yup.

MN: Riddle me this, Davey. What movies has he been in?

DT: Uhhhhhh....none.

MN: Yeah. Action star. Riiiiiiiight.

DT: Regardless, Kincaid and Dodd start off with a collar and elbow tie-up. Snap down attempt by Dodd, and they break the lock-up. Back to the collar and elbow, and Dodd ducks under, flooring Braden with a nice looking arm drag!

MN: Hero? Maybe not. Cool guy? Definetely.

DT: Mike Neely, keen observer and sharp humorist. Kincaid up, clothesline attempt...ducked by Dodd. Kincaid off the ropes, and he’s met with a BEAUTIFUL dropkick from Sebastian Dodd! Dodd with the clear advantage now, and he drops Kincaid again with a double handed knife edged chop! Dodd now perches on the middle rope.

MN: Looks like the Marcus Johnson wannabe in gonna try and fly.

DT: Axehandle on the way...BLOCKED with an elbow to the gut by Kincaid!!! Left hook from Braden, now a right jab, and a flying forearm drops Sebastian Dodd! Up comes Dodd, and he’s leveled with a clothesline! The Thriller is a house afire!

MN: Now that movie boy’s finally woken up, we can get on with this.

DT: Dodd is up and desperate to regain his momentum. He charges, and Kincaid is taken completely unaware! Running avalanche sends both men crashing to the concrete floor on the outside!

MN: Ooooh. Sounds like something just bent in a way that isn’t natural.

DT: This one has very quickly degenerated into a brawl, folks. But, it’s a darn exciting one!

MN: “Darn”. It’s pay per view, Davey! Don’t gotta worry about mommy telling you not to curse. DAMNHELL*****FU-

[Dave Thomas slaps Mike Neely.]

MN: HEY! What was that for!

DT: You said I could do what I wanted on Pay Per View. THAT was what I wanted to do.

MN: Fine, I’ll pay attention to THIS match.

DT: These two are trading blows as referee David Rosenkrantz’s count reaches 5! Kincaid with a head of steam, but Dodd gets the drop toe hold onto the apron! Dodd going to the ropes...SPRINGBOARD CORKSCREW THESZ PRESS!!!! Oh my Lord!

MN: Heheh. That was cool.

DT: Thank you, Butt-Head.

MN: You already hit me, you don’t have to call me names!

DT: You still don’t get it. Sebastian Dodd is the first up, and he scrambles into the ring. The count at 8 now! Kincaid stirs, but the count is at 9! He...JUST GETS BACK!!! Braden Kincaid saved himself a countout defeat!

MN: That MIGHT not have been the best idea.

DT: Dodd is now hammering away with those heavy boots to the back and midsection of Kincaid. Kincaid tries to block, but that just opens up a hole for Sebastian Dodd who locks in the Fujiwara Armbar!!!

MN: Yippee. Rest hold. Gimme a call when something happens.

DT: Uh, Mike?

MN: Yeah?

DT: Something’s happening.

MN: It is? Sweet!

DT: Braden Kincaid has managed to fight his way to a semi-vertical position! Dodd tries to adjust the hold, but Kincaid uses that as an opportunity to shift his weight! He’s got him in the reverse fireman’s carry! What could we have here?

MN: I dunno.

DT: Burning Hammer...NO!!! Inverted Backslide Cradle!!!

ONE...

TWO...

KICKOUT BY DODD!!! But, what a pinning attempt by Kincaid, who dropped Dodd’s shoulder to the mat and locked in a reverse cradle.

MN: Newbie action isn’t THAT bad.

DT: Kincaid setting up for a suplex...countered with a knee to the gut...cradle rib-breaker by Sebastian Dodd! Dodd with the whip into the corner...BIG TIME JUMPING SPLASH!!! Dodd springboards to the top rope, and he hits a spinning leg lariat from the top! Dodd on the rebound...SPEAR!!! Sebastian Dodd is taking over!

MN: Over about describes this match.

DT: Pin by Dodd...

ONE...

TWO...

THRNOOOOOOOOO!!!! Kincaid lifts the right shoulder! OH so close on that one! Dodd isn’t hesitating here, as he’s right back to it with some kicks to the abdomen. Kincaid tries to duck under, GOURDBUSTER by Dodd!

MN: I still don’t know why they call it a gourdbuster. There’s no pumpkins, butternut squash, or winter melons involved.

DT: Dodd measuring up Kincaid, he’s going for the superkick! Kincaid is standing...and...he...CATCHES THE RIGHT FOOT!!! Enziguiri attempt...NO!!!! Kinciad caught the other leg and...

MN: This one’s gonna hurt the Hero.

DT: ...INVERTED POWERBOMB BY THE THRILLER!!!!! Braden Kincaid just dropped Dodd flat on his face from about 8 feet in the air!!!! The pin...

ONE...

TWO...

THREEEEE!!!! NO!!! NOOOOOOOOOO!!!! Dodd got the foot on the ropes!!!

MN: I don’t freaking believe these guys!

DT: Kincaid on the prowl now. He has Dodd in the standing headscissors. Up he GOES...and Dodd flips out of it by calling up the ashes of Bruce Lee with a modified wall flip off the torso of Braden Kincaid!!

MN: Maybe THIS guy should be the one in action movies.

DT: Dodd sprinting towards the corner, he leaps, springboard moonsault...Kincaid does the Matrix back arch to avoid impact!!! Dodd landed on his feet and he’s staring down Kincaid again. Kincaid turns...SUPERKICK BY “YOUR HERO”!!! Brings Kincaid up in an inverted facelock...Kincaid slips out! Braden looks for a clothesline...MISSED!!! Dodd floats over, spins it back into the inverted facelock...

MN: I’ve heard of this before...

DT: D-O-DDT!!!!! The pin...

ONE...

TWO...

THREEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!! Sebastian Dodd gets the pin!!! What an effort by both men, but in the end Sebastian Dodd’s D-O-DDT was enough to outlast the VERY promising Braden Kincaid.

TF: Your winner, via pinfal... “YOUR HEROOOOOOO” SEBASTIAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN DOOOOOOOOOOOOOODDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!



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DT: A big win there for Sebastian Dodd, as he makes a successful debut here at Unleashed. Don't take anything away from Braden Kincaid, though. Both men put forth a hell of a showing, and as far as I'm concerned their futures in EPW look bright.

MN: Yeah, yeah, I hear ya. Now is Kincaid okay? Doddy dropped him right on his Hollywood face!

DT: ...Riiiiiiiiight. Folks, next up we've got a match between X and Brian Hale - but first, let's take a look at a video package!

MN: Oh boy.

[Cut to a video package hyping up X.]

 

[DBrunkGXW]

[Cut backstage, inside Paul Freeman's office. We see Freeman sitting at his desk, smiling at someone across from him.]

FREEMAN: You know, your performance last week was excellent. You're justifying my faith in hiring you.

[The camera pans over, revealing "The Show Stealer" Dean Matthews sitting across the desk from Freeman.]

MATTHEWS: Yep, I know.

FREEMAN: Hiring you as my assistant was one of the best moves I've made thus far.

MATTHEWS: Are you sure Big Dan's okay with it? I wouldn't wanna eat a Humility Bomb over this-

FREEMAN: Oh, don't worry about Dan. He doesn't mind.

MATTHEWS: Good.

[Freeman looks down at the event program on his desk, frowning faintly.]

FREEMAN: In any case, the next match up is between X and Brian Hale. I need you to go out there and do what we discussed.

MATTHEWS: No problem.

[Pushing out of his chair, Matthews bows mockingly.]

MATTHEWS: And with that, I'm outta here.

[As Matthews departs, Freeman watches him go, then shrugs and returns to his paperwork.]



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MN: Ha! So THAT'S what was behind Matthews bringing in those gorgeous Empire Girls!

DT: So it would seem! Looks like Matthews is now a member of EPW's management team - and it seems he's got some business in this next match!

MN: We have another match?

DT: Yes we do. Last week, X battled Karl Brown in a chain match and took the Dragon to his limits despite not emerging the victor. He's certainly impressed many people. Hale, on the other hand, was steamrolled by the man known as Blu Thundarous. Tonight he has the chance to prove that his loss at Aggression was a fluke.

MN: Or just get stepped on.

DT: Let's go to the ring.



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X vs. "Big Air" Brian Hale​

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

["X Gonna Give It To You" by DMX blares over the loudspeaker as the lights go down. Time passes, strobe lights light up the entrance way and everyone is looking around for X, but he is no where to be found. After a few more seconds, a commotion seems to be erupting in the crowd. X appears in the crowd carrying his patented black steel chair marked with a white X and wrapped in barbed wire. He stands on a chair or anything he can find in the crowd and while still holding his chair in his right hand, he crosses his arms to make an X. He fights his way through the crowd, hops the barrier, and rolls into the ring. He starts banging on the ropes with the chair and then proceeds to make the same X gesture while standing on the middle of the ropes.]

TONY FATORA: Introducing first... He hails from the Bronx... He weighs in at two hundred and ten pounds... He is the man known as ECCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKSSSSSSSSSS!!!

MN: The man known as WIL-L-L-L-LBUR-R-R-R-R-R!

DT: Don't start that Wilbur stuff again. Please.

[Cue up: "Hush" - Tool. The spotlight begins to quiver with the music as the curtains part and out steps Bunnie Hil to a huge ovation from the male population in the arena. Bunnie struts about halfway down the aisle before stopping and turning back to the entrance and pointing, as if on cue white pyro shoots out top of the entrance ramp as Brian Hale steps through the curtain. He jogs in place for a few minutes, rolling his neck from side to side before making his way down to the ring.]

TONY FATORA: And his opponent... He hails from Aspen, Colorado... He weighs in at two hundred and fifteen pounds... He issssss BRIAAAAAAAAAAANNNNN... HAAAAAAAAAAAALE!!!

DT: Well, folks -

[Cue up: "Sharp Dressed Man" - ZZ Top. The crowd pops loudly, recognizing the music.]

DT: - Wait a minute, that's Dean Matthews' music!

MN: Well, he WAS supposed to be coming out here.

[As X and Hale turn towards the ramp, Matthews strolls out onto the stage in his white suit and top hat. He raises a mic.]

MATTHEWS: Killeth yon music, O monkeys in the back.

[The music stops.]

MATTHEWS: I'm out here because we have a problem. That problem is YOU, Mr. Hale. Care to explain to me WHY you haven't been promoting your matches?

[Cut to the ring, where Hale blinks, taken aback, then yells an unheard excuse at Matthews. Cut back to Matthews, who offers a huge grin, looking not unlike a blond grand piano.]

MATTHEWS: Bri, Bri, Bri... Now we just can't have you not doing your job, can't we? I think it's time we laid down the law. Therefore, I'm making this match... NO... DISQUALIFICATION!!!

[HUGE crowd pop!]

MATTHEWS: Have fun, Bri-Bri. And remember - DO YOUR JOB next time, 'kay? 'Kay. Love ya.

[Smirking, Matthews turns and strolls to the back.]

[SFX: *DING* - Bell rings.]



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No Disqualification
X vs. "Big Air" Brian Hale​

DT: Oh dear! This sudden change of stipulation does not bode well for-

[Grinning like Christmas, X whirls and suddenly LAMBASTES Hale in the head with his barbed wire chair! Hale crumples to the mat immediately, limp.]

DT: - OH! X WITH THE CHAIR TO THE HEAD OF HALE!!!

MN: Now THAT was a quick start!

[Rolling Hale over, X covers. Referee Andrew Gardell makes the count.]

DT: There's a count! This could be over already - NO! Hale kicked out at two!

MN: Well, I guess he's not a TOTAL jobber, then.

[Gruffly, X grabs Hale by the hair and drags him to his feet. He slaps the former snowboarded in the face a few times, then wheels him into the corner. Hale's face hits the turnbuckle, and he stumbles out into a big neckbreaker from X.]

DT: Neckbreaker by X takes Hale to the canvas!

MN: Hale's so done. This is X's environment, plain and simple.

DT: X is certainly a student of the hardcore genre, as he's mastered the use of foreign objects and roughneck tactics.

[X rolls out of the ring, digging under the ring apron. He emerges with a table. Sliding into the ring, X begins to set up the table, but sees Hale recovering. With a shrug, X drives the edge of the table into Hale's ribs, then smashes his face off of it.]

DT: X now making use of that table to keep Hale reeling.

MN: I smell someone going through that thing.

[It doesn't take X long to finish setting up the table. He slugs Hale in the face a few times, then sets his barbed wire chair atop the table. With that, he whips Hale into the ropes, catching Hale with the Xecution onto the chair and through the table at the same time!]

[CROWD: "Ho-ly sh*t! Ho-ly sh*t! Ho-ly sh*t!"]

DT: SWEET MERCIFUL CRAP!!! THE XECUTION ONTO THE BARBED-WIRE STEEL AND THROUGH THE TABLE!!! HALE HAS TO BE DEAD!!!

MN: YES!!! THAT WAS AWESOME!!!

[Smiling, X rolls a bloody Hale over and covers him. The three count is academic.]

DT: It's all academic now! One! Two! THREE! X picks up the win in his Pay-Per-View debut!

[SFX: *DING* - Bell rings.]

TONY FATORA: Here is your winnerrrr... ECCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKSSSSSSSS!!!



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DT: I'd like to call that a hard-fought win for X, but really, he outright slaughtered Brian Hale here tonight.

MN: Of COURSE he did! X is probably one of the most hardcore guys in EPW! He was in his element, and Hale's a deadbeat anyway.

DT: It's a shame, because I've seen Hale in action elsewhere and he has a lot of talent. Either way, a strong showing for X, as he continues to make a name for himself here in Empire Pro.



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The hair on the back of Cameron Cruise’s neck stood on end as he pulled on the knob, opening a door to an unmarked storage room in the Georgia Dome.

He should have been a doctor. His parents wanted that more than anything. Planned parenthood’s not just about minimizing surprises. For the Cruises, it meant scheduling the formative years of Cameron’s life to the second of every day. Planting the seed in little Cammy’s head that the necessary student loans he’d face in college were a short-term obstacle. And by delivering premature babies or bringing a cardiac arrest victim back from the brink of death, he’d have the spiritual clearance to skip out early on Sundays to make a favorable tee time. Cameron’s PJs were O.R. scrubs, and he was fed a steady television diet of medical dramas.

Maybe it was the “St. Elsewhere” finale that convinced him a medical career was his parent’s dream, and not his. Though, he did enjoy the Friday Night family “Operation” tournaments. He feels sorry for today’s kids: mindlessly plowing through hours of video games. Until they can pull a miniature chicken bone out of a man’s sternum, boasts of hand-eye coordination are lost on Cruise.

High hopes, and the best of intentions, but Cameron never took school seriously until it was too late. Now, here he is: moderately successful, and too embarrassed to head back to college.

Entering the room against his better judgment, Cruise pays for his disobedience by finding Joey Melton calmly (suspiciously so) sitting, legs crossed like Sharon Stone in “Basic Instinct”, on a helpless folding chair. Sporting Bono Fly Shades, and a bath towel.

“I asked you, and I believe sincerely as well, to knock, Cruise.”

Melton shields the light from his eyes as Cruise flips on the juice, closing the door behind him. Joey was somebody Cruise never wanted to be alone with. Like walking home from work with a serial killer on the loose, in large groups you’re safer. Melton wasn’t a physical threat, but Cruise was already having nightmares about leaving his wife to smuggle North Korean midgets over the boarder, as part of a stipulation to a match the two lost.

“Sorry. Where are my manners when entering a storage room?” He gave the closet a once over. Elvis was born in a house not much bigger than this, but facing the former CSWA World Champion Cameron saw the irony. When the mighty fall, the walls close in about one hundred feet. “This is our locker room?”

Joey impatiently brushes Cameron’s question aside. “You got what I asked?”

Mercedes’ better half rummages through a plastic bag, pulling out small items. “Eye drops, headache powder, a liter of Tang, and a bag of 125 balloons.”

“Good man.”

“I’m afraid to ask.”

And he was. Cruise’s biggest fault is refusing to grasp the ideal that some things are better left unsaid: A weakness that’s had him sleeping on the couch many a night in his marriage.

“Drug store balloons make better condoms, Cruise. I thought you kids were taught that in school now.

“Oh good,” Cameron offered excitedly, “I was worried you were learning how to make balloon animals. Silly me.”

“The room’s not much, but it’ll do. I don’t care for open spaces. And to be honest, once I got the heavy boxes out, the legroom doubled.”

Melton’s partner turned and pointed beyond the door, “So that mess in the hallway is your doing?”

Yes, but Melton be damned if he was the one to clean it up. “Speaking of which, did you see a box marked, ‘Radioactive materials?’”

This moment was making sense. Clearly, Joey had built a time machine. Cruise thought of playing the good solider, and reminding Melton to pack extra plutonium, but perhaps it best for them both if Joey not find his way back.

“Yes...”

“Great, be a lad and bring it back in here.”

The door swung open again, but he was stopped before making his way out.

“Wait. Did you ever talk to your sister about that thing we discussed?”

“She’s my wife! And we’re not swingers, Melton!”

Joey knew the odds were against the grain, but he had to ask. His sexual history is littered with hundreds of disappointments, but it’s the surprises that keep the man going. “Now, that’s a shame.”

“Marcus, you’re never going to get your nerves in check if you keep pacing around like you are.”

The voice of Lindsay Troy can be heard through Melton’s and Cameron’s side of the door, and it’s apparent that Beast is with her.

A strong arm pulls Cruise back in, and the door frantically shuts. “What’s with you?”

“It’s Troy. Hide!”

“What?”

Joey starts to barricade the door with a small metal shelf. The weight of it probably not strong enough to hold an intruder at bay, but in times of small crisis, it’s mental protection that matters most. The illusion of safety; the man knew it well.

“I don’t want her to see me like this. It’s bad luck.”

“You guys getting married or something?”

“Why?” Melton pushes the shelf away enthusiastically. “What have you heard?”

“I’ll be damned if I let him put his hands on you again, Lindz,” Beast’s deep, hardened voice is heard as well as the thuds of his boots on the tile. “I’ll be even damneder if I let him get another one over on me.”

The closet door quietly cracks, and Melton’s blue eye spies intently.

“Joey, it’s dark in here. You’re scaring me.”

“Quiet fool. I can’t hear Troy when you’re whining.”

“You need to chill out and relax, Marcus.” Troy’s voice is cool and soothing. “You’re naturally going to be worked up and your adrenaline’s going to be running full steam, but letting Christian see you like this is only going to add more fuel to his fire.”

“God, I know all this. I’m not at a sermon, Lindsay, so stop preaching to me like you’re a priest.”

The all-seeing eye retreats behind the closing door. “Level with me Cruise,” Melton started. “Is she dating anyone in the cast?”

A light goes on in Cameron’s head; that its twenty years too late, means little. “You joined EPW just to team with Troy. This has nothing to do with me, does it?”

“Of course I’m here to stalk Troy. Did you honestly think I came here for you? Pull your head out of your ass.

Cruise felt so used, and sadly not in a good way. Maybe the first chapter of his career hasn’t paved a way to the Hall Of Fame, but he doesn’t have to take this.

“I’m gone.”

Cameron reaches for the door, but Melton pulls him back. In utter aghast that he’d try to escape. “Are you crazy? I’m hung over and pale as a ghost. She thinks I’ve gone sober for her.”

Cammy shakes his head. There are brighter tools in the shed, but he can see through Melton’s BS.

“It’s in a contract I signed last month. Thanks to Randalls’ last visit. I could be kicked out of the house!”

Immediately, Cameron understands. And the ramifications of a homeless Melton scare the hell out of him. If Troy gives Joey the boot, tag-team partners by law have to bear the load.

“What can I do to help?”

“Ferret out there quietly and get the box. There’s no time to wait. We’re on in twenty minutes.” Melton pats Cruise on the back. The future of the western world may not rest on Cruise retrieving a box undetected, but Melton’s mooching ways do. “But remember mums the word.”

If he could get out the door, there was an eighty/twenty chance he’d head for the hills never to come back. Find Mercedes and tell her he wants to go back to school. Follow in the footsteps of Noah Wylie. Screw practicing medicine, Cruise would major in Drama and intern at Warner Brothers Studio.

“Mums.”

Cameron nods exhaustedly. “Mums.”

“You don’t need to get snippy with me Marcus, I’m just trying to help.”

Troy’s interrupted by a body dragging a cardboard box back into an open storage room. She catches a glimpse of Cameron Cruise before the door shuts behind him, and with an exasperated glare at Beast she slowly walks off down the hall toward where Cruise disappeared.

Joey shuts the door, and watches as Cruise cuts into the tape wielding the box shut. “Good work. Did she ask about me?” Before his partner could answer, Melton slaps his left hand over Cameron’s mouth. “No, don’t tell me I don’t want to know.”

Cruise cracks the box open, throwing silence in front of Melton to see if it slows him. He fishes into the box briefly before pulling out two pairs of black tights, and sequin robes, with “The Cameron Cruise Project” engraved on the backs.

“Gracious me.”

“That’s the last of my savings right there.” Melton beams like a virgin who’s just bedded the hot neighborhood mother. “Sweet, huh?”

Matching outfits? Cruise has seen this before, and it didn’t end well.

“Single white female...”

“What?”

“Nothing. I thought we agreed on “The Tandem Complex.”

Joey sits beside Cruise, leaning into his ear like a father preparing to march out a life lesson. “Naming the band is the most important thing. It sets the mood and marketability.” Melton rubs Cruise’s hair playfully. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I couldn’t leave that up to you.”

“No,” Cameron shrugged sarcastically, “why would I take that the wrong way?”

“Yo, Cam,” Lindsay Troy asks, rapping on the door. “Why the hell are you in a storage closet?”

Melton and Cruise scramble around the room, tripping over themselves.

“CAMERON!”

The storage room door slowly cracks open. Cruise pokes his head out. Normal day at the office; show Troy your poker face in preparation for Hollywood auditions.

“Can I help you?”

“Um. No, but you can tell me what’s up with your new crib. I didn’t know Janitor Closets were your thing.”

A faint whispering reaches Cameron’s right ear. “I don’t like open spaces.”

“I don’t care for open spaces.”

Troy’s right eyebrow lifts in questioning. “Right...”

An awkward pause settles between them. Cruise is softly instructed to break it.

“You look great tonight.”

“Oh?” Troy’s taken aback.

“You’re hair is different. If I’m not mistaken. I like.”

A grin from the Tampa native. “Thanks, I think...”

“No problem.”

Troy’s nose winkles, and on instinct she moves to look past Cameron, but Cruise keeps his head in front of hers.

“You and Beast having problems?”

“Eh,” A shrug. “He’s got a big match tonight, nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Good,” Melton says louder than needed.

“Excuse me?”

Cruise coughs. “I said food. You should eat; get your mind off things.

“Okay I’m not talking to you like this.” Lindsay pushes past Cruise, stepping into the room. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Cruise answers defensively, eying the room with Troy. Magically Melton’s disappeared.

“Could Mercedes not finagle with Ryan enough to get you a better locker room?” Troy’s foot hits something on the floor. She looks down and sees a robe with “The Cameron Cruise Project” on the back.

“Oh God...this is Melton’s doing isn’t it?”

Busted. Quick Cameron, think of something...

“Yeah well...he wanted ‘The Tandem Complex’ for a name but...heh, I figured I needed to get my name out there so he reluctantly agreed to the new name.”

A blatant lie. But, Troy bought it.

“Whoring yourself out to the general public? I thought you better than that, Cameron. That’s something Joey would do. Speaking of the Sexual All-American, I haven’t seen him around tonight. He’s not nipping at my heels like he normally is.”

“He said he was running a bit late.”

“There’s a shock,” Troy snorts. “I leave him to go do my own thing and he’s lost without my penchant for scheduling and structure. Although I can’t say that I’m surprised he’s turned up here. He thinks of me as some sort of conquest, after all.”

She pauses. “Ah well. I’d better be getting back to Marcus or else I’m going to feel the RAHHR~! Heh. Good luck tonight and all that.” As the door shuts, Melton’s body reappears from behind its shadow. “I thought I was done for.”

“Is this like a nightly thing with you?”

“Is what?”

“Being so damn weird.” Just when you think you’ve seen it all, you’re teamed with Melton against your will. He’ll have stories to tell when he’s older, but right now Cruise doesn’t consider that a reward.

“Come on, try on the dress. We’ll discuss the night’s strategy as you change.”

“You mean like last week’s? Where I got beat on for fifteen minutes until tagging so you could make the dramatic save and play the hero?”

Joey smiles, glowing like the secrets of the universe have just been revealed. “I knew that was intentional! And here I thought you just sucked.” Melton tosses an arm over Cameron’s shoulders. “Cammy this could the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

Cruise’s shoulders heave as his head bows. Melton throws a robe on, before noticing Cameron’s disposition.

“Cammy, you cryin’?”

 

[DBrunkGXW]

DT: Folks, this next match has been brewing for several weeks on Aggression. Hostilities between John Doe and Bryan Storms have flared recently, starting with Storms' unprovoked verbal attacks on Doe prior to his match with Aodhan Lorigan.

MN: I've said it before and I'll say it again. Doe's a dwarf, and Storms is gonna slaughter him.

DT: But this isn't just any match, Mike. This is an I Quit match. No disqualifications, no count-outs, falls count anywhere, and the only way to win is to force your opponent to say "I Quit" into the microphone!

MN: I'm gonna take GREAT pleasure in watching Doe SQUEAL.

DT: Take it away, Fat Tony.



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

I Quit Match
John Doe vs. "The New Icon" Bryan Storms​

TONY FATORA: Th' following contest is scheduled for one fall! It will be contested under I Quit rules!

[Cue up: "The Final Countdown" - Europe. Bryan Storms walks through the curtain, holding a chair... only for John Doe to rush out behind him and start pounding on him with punches to the head and back!]

[SFX: *DING* - Bell rings.]

DT: - WAIT A MINUTE! John Doe jumping the gun here, attacking Storms even before either can be announced!

MN: What a gnome! Show some respect for a cool guy, kid!

[Doe continues pounding away on Storms, forcing the other man to drop his chair. Roughly, Doe wheels Storms down the ramp, sending the New Icon skidding along the steel to roll to his feet at the bottom. Grinning, Doe picks up the chair and rushes Storms, swinging for his head, but Storms ducks. As Doe comes around, Storms spins and kicks the chair into Doe's face with a firm leg lariat!]

DT: OH! Storms wheels that chair back into Doe's grill!

MN: I LOVE IT! Make the piggy squeal!

[Smirking, Storms grabs the chair, then rolls into the ring. He grabs Tony Fatora's microphone before sliding back down to ringside, pressing a foot against Doe's neck.]

STORMS: I'll tell you what, Johnny. Since I'm such a great guy I'm gonna give you the chance to quit right now and save yourself some embarrassment. How 'bout it, Johnny?

[Storms holds the mic down towards Doe. However, that proves to be a bad idea. Doe grabs Storms by the arm and takes him down in an armbar, then starts hammering at Storms' face with big right hands from a grounded headlock position!]

DT: Doe's not ready to give up yet! He's just beating the HELL out of Bryan Storms at ringside!

MN: Boo! Hiss!

[Grabbing Storms by the arm again, Doe drags his rival to his feet, then wheels him across the floor. Storms is sent caroming into the ring barricade, flipping halfway over it. Gruffly, Doe pulls Storms back into the ringside area, then grabs his head and slams his face into the ring post!]

DT: And Doe feeding Bryan Storms a hearty helping of steel there!

MN: Dammit, Doe. Storms doesn't like to eat poles. Not everyone shares your dietary and sexual preferences.

DT: ...You're sick.

MN: Not at all. I've got a clean bill of health, Burgerman.

[Stunned by his encounter with the ringpost, Storms crumples to the ground. Doe, however, is relentless. He again whips Storms into the ring, sending him tumbling over the barricade. Doe follows him, grabbing someone's cup of Coca-Cola and launching it at Storms. It misses.]

DT: Looks like Doe's looking to fan support for his foreign objects.

MN: Hey! I could've drank that Coke, dag nabbit!

[Storms dives into the crowd, attempting to put some distance between himself and Doe. Doe follows him, pilfering a steel chair from the crowd. As Storms pushes through a door into the backstage area, Doe follows and throws the chair at him. It connects, causing Storms to tumble to the ground.]

DT: Doe using that chair as a projectile, catching Storms across the back!

MN: Major-league arm, yo.

[Rushing across the backstage area, Doe puts the boots to Storms, then grabs him bodily and slams him against a wall. However, Storms takes the opportunity to headbutt Doe firmly. Doe stumbles backwards, holding his head. Gritting his teeth, Storms rushes Doe and brings him down to the concrete with a devastating tornado DDT!]

DT: MY GOD! STORMS WITH THE WRAPAROUND DDT ON THE CONCRETE FLOOR!!!

MN: YES!!! YES!!! MY DAWG!!!

[As Doe sprawls on the concrete with blood running from his nose, Storms stomps away at his head. The New Icon then heaves Doe to his feet and wheels him towards the wall, sending Doe face-first into it! Doe bounces off the bricks, stunned; he then eats boot as Storms superkicks him.]

DT: Storms with a HARSH superkick there, as he's back in control of the match!

MN: Did you expect anything less from my dawg?

[Smirking, Storms grabs Doe by the hair and *****-slaps him in the face repeatedly. He then slaps on a front face lock and knees Doe in the face several times, sending more blood gushing from Doe's nose.]

DT: Oh! Storms throwing knees in an almost mixed martial-arts fashion, and Doe is bleeding profusely!

MN: And I LOOOOOOVE that sight! That's what Doe gets for messing with a cool guy like Storms!

DT: ...Mike. Storms isn't that cool. He's a pompous jackass.

MN: LIES! ALL LIES!

[Storms drags Doe along the ground by the leg, hauling him over to where a set of empty boxes have been stacked - at one time they probably carried bits and pieces of the stage. Dragging Doe off the floor, Storms slugs him in the mouth, then whips him towards the boxes. However, Doe suddenly reverses and catches Storms with a drop toe hold, sending him tumbling into the stack of crates!]

DT: OH! DOE SENDS STORMS INTO THAT STACK OF CRATES!!!

MN: DQ! DQ! THIS ISN'T A BOXING MATCH!!!

[As Storms reels amidst the pile of crates, Doe smirks and sets up one of the empty boxes. He then hops up onto it, flipping off with a moonsault into the crates and onto Storms!]

DT: MOONSAULT by Doe! He's got Bryan Storms on the ropes here!

MN: WHAT ropes!? There's not even a ring!

[Taking a moment to slug Storms in the mouth a couple of times, Doe beckons to referee David Rosenkrantz, who brings the mic over.]

DOE: Give up!

STORMS: No!

DOE: Give up!

STORMS: NO!

DOE: GIVE UP!!!

STORMS: F*CK YOU!!!

[Gritting his teeth, Storm reaches up and nails Doe in the mouth with a hard right hand. Stunned, Doe stumbles backwards, and Storms charges at him. However, Doe sidesteps and gives Storms a push, sending him caroming into a fire extinguisher case hanging on the wall!]

DT: Storms not giving up - BUT HE HITS THE FIRE EXTINGUISHER!!!

MN: I think the edge of that case cut Storms' face!

DT: You're right! I definitely see blood running from Storms' forehead!

[A smiling Doe advances on Storms, his fist drawn back. However, Storms thinks quickly. He grabs the fire extinguisher from the case and sprays it at Doe, filling the room with white clouds of flame repellant! Doe stumbles out of the smoke, clawing at his face. Suddenly, Storms emerges behind him and drags him onto his shoulders, then spins him and drops him into the pile of crates with a falling DDT!]

DT: STORMS MAKING USE OF THE FIRE EXTINGUISHER - AND HE HITS THE STORMCHASER!!! THAT SPINNING FIREMAN'S CARRY DDT ONTO THE PACKING CRATES!!!

MN: Now THAT'S how a REAL man takes care of business! Not a f*cking dwarf like Doe! [Doe sprawls amidst the crates, clawing at his eyes to try and tear away the stinging white foam of the fire extinguisher. Meanwhile, Storms wipes blood from his forehead, then grabs Doe and knees him in the gut, turning to wheel him towards a green steel door. Doe goes flying through the door, tumbling out into the open air.]

DT: This fight's starting to spill out of the arena!

MN: What do you expect? These guys wanna kill each other!

[Following Doe out into the open air, Storms grabs his adversary by the hair, then kicks him in the gut twice, knocking him to his knees. Storms then winds up and kicks Doe square in the face, sending him tumbling down to the concrete with blood running from his nose.]

DT: Storms has really done a number on John Doe's face thus far, as there's blood all over his nose, mouth, and chin.

MN: Looks like he's drooling blood.

[Breathing heavily, Doe pushes himself to his feet, only for Storms to slug him down again. Hooking Doe by the head, Storms throws him towards a dumpster parked nearby. Doe hits it hard, bouncing off the steel as his eyes glaze over.]

DT: Oh! Doe sent into that trash receptacle as Storms is completely in control of this contest!

MN: I've said it before. I'll say it again. STORMS ROCKS.

[Slugging Doe in the mouth a few more times, Storms shoves the smaller man down into a standing headscissors. He brings Doe up for a powerbomb. However, Doe slips out and lands on his feet in front of Storms, slugging him tiredly in the face. Doe then grabs Storms in a front facelock and brings him up, suplexing him INTO the dumpster!]

DT: OH! DOE DUMPS STORMS INTO THE TRASH!!!

MN: THAT'S SICK!!! WHO KNOWS WHAT'S IN THERE!!!

DT: I don't even want to know!

[Gagging, Storms leaps awkwardly out of the dumpster, brushing bits and pieces of filth off of his body. This doesn't seem to bother Doe, who howls as he rushes Storms, spearing him to the concrete. Yelling like a man possessed, Doe hammers at Storms' face with wild rights and lefts.]

DT: Doe pounding away at Storms with NO finesse whatsoever! He just wants to hurt him!

MN: That boy's on drugs!

[Storms throws his hands up to defend himself, but Doe just keeps pounding at him. Finally, Doe gets up and brings Storms with him, slamming him against the wall. He slugs Storms repeatedly, then drags him out to deliver a short-arm Amnesia Attack - but Storms ducks, causing Doe to land harmlessly on the other side of him. Both men turn, and Storms kicks Doe in the gut before drilling him with the Red Tide Rising onto the concrete!]

DT: NO!!! THE RED TIDE RISING!!! RED TIDE RISING ON THE CONCRETE!!!

MN: YES!!! YES!!! I LOVE IT!!!

[Staring down at Doe, Storms ponders his next move. He then smirks and walks away, leaving Doe to lie there, slowly recovering.]

DT: Wait a minute - where's Storms going?

MN: Probably doesn't care anymore. Doe's so done.

DT: The match isn't over! Doe never said I Quit!

MN: He might as well.

DT: I'm telling you, it's not over!

MN: And I'm telling you it IS!

DT: I just wish I knew where Storms was heading off to...

[Slowly, Doe pushes himself to his feet. Suddenly, the glow of headlights fills the area as a taxi pulls into view. Behind the wheel is Bryan Storms, grinning like a fiend. Flooring the gas pedal, he drives straight towards Doe, who barely manages to dodge to the right!]

DT: Wait a - STORMS IS TRYING TO RUN OVER JOHN DOE WITH A CAR!!!

MN: YES!!! BEAUTIFUL!!!

DT: SOMEONE NEEDS TO GET OUT THERE AND STOP THIS!!!

[Turning with a screech of tires, Storms again drives towards Doe, who narrowly ducks aside. The taxi again turns, its rear bumper scraping a wall. Quickly, Doe forces open the passenger's side door and lunges at Storms, and the two exchange punches inside the taxi.]

DT: DOE IS IN THE CAB!!! THESE TWO ARE POUNDING AWAY LIKE MADMEN!!!

MN: Hey, Doe! The meter's running! Pay up!

[The two pound on each other for a moment more. Doe eventually wins the fistfight, then grabs Storms by the hair and bashes his face against the steering wheel. With each bash, the horn sounds loudly. The referee jumps into the backseat with the mic, while the cameraman hops onto the hood to watch the action through the windscreen.]

DT: Doe using Storms' head to sound the horn!

MN: Looks like that cab's getting a bit crowded...

[As Doe draws Storms' head back, the Second Coming member gets one hand up and gouges Doe's eyes. He then grabs Doe and slams his face off the dashboard, following by grabbing the passenger's side seatbelt and pulling it across Doe's throat. As Storms chokes away, one of his feet hits the gas pedal, starting the taxi moving.]

DT: Storms is choking out Doe - Wait a minute, THE TAXI'S MOVING!!!

MN: ROAD RAGE! ROAD RAGE! WOOHOO!

[Blinking, Storms becomes aware of the sudden mobility of the vehicle. He suddenly grins and smashes Doe in the face with a set of right hands, then buckles Doe's seatbelt. With Doe stunned, Storms floors the gas pedal, aiming the cab straight for a wall.]

DT: Wait a minute... I don't like this...

MN: He's headed for a wall!

DT: Don't tell me!

MN: Do it!

DT: PLEASE DON'T TELL ME-

[At the last second, Storms jumps out of the car. The referee follows, and the cameraman just narrowly manages to escape. Doe, however, is still fighting with his seatbelt as the otherwise empty taxi approaches the wall at high speed.]

***CRASSSSSSSSSSSSSH***

DT: MY GOD!!! STORMS JUST SMASHED THAT TAXI INTO A WALL AT TOP SPEED WITH JOHN DOE STILL INSIDE!!!

MN: YES!!! YES!!!

DT: DAMMIT!!! THAT'S INHUMAN!!! SOMEONE GET AN AMBULANCE OUT THERE!!! SOMEONE CALL THE PARAMEDICS!!! JOHN DOE COULD BE DEAD!!!

MN: We can only hope! HA!

[As the totalled car lies smashed against the wall, a smiling Storms walks over and pulls a barely conscious Doe out of the vehicle. Doe's face is badly cut from the flying windshield glass, and his eyes are glazed over. The dazed referee stumbles over and holds the mic to the two.]

STORMS: Say it.

DOE: ...

STORMS: Say the words.

DOE: ...

STORMS: F*CK YOU!!! SAY THE WORDS!!!

DOE: ...Blow me...

[Storms' face contorts in rage. He suddenly grabs a shard of windshield glass from the ground and thrusts it towards Doe's face! Doe gets an arm up to block, but Storms presses down as hard as he can. Slowly, inexorably, the glass moves towards Doe's eyes...]

DT: NO!!! THIS IS WRONG!!! STORMS IS TRYING TO GOUGE OUT DOE'S EYES WITH THAT GLASS!!!

STORMS: SAY IT!!! SAY IT OR I'LL STAB YOUR F*CKING EYES OUT!!!

DOE: NO!!!

STORMS: SAY IT!!!

DOE: NO!!! NO!!!

[With a roar, Storms forces the glass down even harder. The tip is a millimeter from Doe's eye-]

DOE: ...OKAY!!! OKAY!!! I QUIT!!! I QUIT!!!

[Grinning like an idiot, Storms tosses the glass aside and gets up, walking slowly away. A bloody Doe is helped to his feet by the referee, watching Storms go.]

[SFX: Back inside the arena... *DING* - Bell rings.]

TONY FATORA: Here is your winner... BRYAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNN... STOOOOOOOOOOOOORRRRRRMSSSSSSSS!!!



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

DT: I don't think we've EVER seen a match like that here in Empire Pro, Mike. We knew that Doe and Storms didn't like each other, but I never imagined it would go that far!

MN: Screw that! Doe knew what he was getting into! Storms SHOULD'VE stabbed his eyes out and saved the world a lot of trouble!

DT: MIKE!

MN: Whaaat?

DT: That's a HORRIBLE thing to say!

MN: I know. I'm the bad guy on this commentating team, remember?

DT: But at least have a heart!

MN: Never.

DT: *sigh* Why me? Why me?

[Cut to a quick advertisement for Aggression.]

 

[DBrunkGXW]

DT: Folks, this next match pits three of Empire Pro Wrestling's best tag teams against each other. Ever since the Crimson Calling walked out on EPW nearly a month ago, our tag team title picture has been a little foggy. Now, we clear that picture up, ELIMINATION STYLE!

MN: God, you’re so lame.

DT: Let’s send it over to Tony Fatora for our introductions. Tony?



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

EPW World Tag-Team Championship
Blitz vs. Golem & X-Ecutioner vs. The Cameron Cruise Project​

TF: The following contest is an ELIMINATION match which will crown the NEEEEEWW Empire Pro Wrestling Tag Team Champions OF the World!!!!

[Cue Up: “Otherworld” as Max, Jecht, and Leonard Johnson make their way to the ring.]

TF: Hailing from Los Angeles, California and Freiburg, Germany...JECHT...MAX...THIS...ISSSSSSS...BLIIIIIIIIIITTTTTTTTTTTZZZZZ!!!!!!!

[Cue Up: “Headstrong” by Trapt as Cameron Cruise, accompanied by Mercedes Devon, walks halfway down the ramp and waits.]

TF: Weighing in at 249 pounds, a native of Jacksonville, North Carolina...CAMEROOOOOOOOOON CRUUUUUUUUUUUUIIIIISSSSSEEEE!!!!!!

[“Headstrong” fades out, only to be replaced by “All the Things She Said” by Tatu, as the crowd goes completely bonkers. Joey Melton emerges from the entranceway and strolls confidently towards Cruise. They meet and head to the ring together.]

TF: His tag team partner is one of the true legends of professional wrestling. Hailing from New York City, New York and weighing in at 210 pounds...JOOOOOEEEEEEEEYYYYYY MEEEEEEEEEELLLLTTTTTTOOOONNNN!!!!!!!

[The arena darkens slightly as the opening strains of “Hurt” by Nine Inch Nails begin to play and the hunched figure of Golem walks out onto the ramp, followed by the larger X-Ecutioner.]

TF: Their opponents, at a combined weight of five hundred twenty three pounds...GOLEM and X-ECUUUUUUUUTTTTIOOOONNNNNEEERRRRR!!!!!

DT: The three teams meet in the center of the ring with senior referee Pat Jones, who explains to them the rules of this match.

MN: What’s so hard, be the last team not to get pinned, you win!

DT: It looks like we’ll see Jecht, X-Ecutioner, and Joey Melton start things off in this encounter, and HERE WE GO!!!

[SFX: Bell rings]

DT: Jecht darts right at X-Ecutioner, and Joey Melton just stays out of the way! Melton leaning against the turnbuckles as Jecht and X trade heavy blows with fists and feet! Big right hook by Jecht...NOBODY HOME!!! X has him up, side suplex sends Jecht crashing down hard!!!

[As Jecht begins to rise, X clubs him down quickly with a series of forearm blows to Jecht’s side. He brings Jecht up and lashes into him with some quick chops before setting up for an irish whip. He sends Jecht into the ropes, but as he sets for his next move, Melton comes out of the corner with a dropkick to the back of the head that sends X crashing into Jecht.]

MN: That’s why Joey Melton is the smartest man in the history of professional wrestling. Let the other idiots do the grunt work, then pick your spot to attack.

DT: Melton now has Jecht and he brings him over to his corner. Cruise measures up Jecht, and NAILS him with a stiff right hand!!! Tag made, and now Cameron Cruise in for his team. He hooks the head and the leg...FISHERMAN’S SUPLEX! Could Blitz’s chance be over this quickly?

[Alas, no, as Jecht kicks out easily after 2. Cruise looks for a short arm clothesline, but Jecht ducks and shoves Cameron across the ring, straight into the waiting raised boot of X-Ecutioner. While X stomps away at Cruise, Jecht scrambles over to his corner to tag in the big German Max.]

DT: Jecht was taking a horrific beating in their, and now it’s time to see if Max can fare any better. X has Cruise in a double underhook, he lifts him HIGH overhead...Max slams into both men at full speed sending everybody over the top to the outside, and now all 6 men are making their way to this brawl!

MN: Awwwwwwwww yeah, it’s on, biatch!

DT: Oh no, not again.

MN: Yeah, Burgerboy. You though it was safe to go back in the water.

DT: This battle is raging on here at ringside, and it looks like Golem and X-Ecutioner have taken advantage of it. Golem sends Joey Melton flying into those stainless steel ring steps!!! X has Jecht...OH MY GOD!!! Jumping piledriver on the floor!!! The legal men have all climbed back into the ring as Jones breaks his count, and X goes to his corner and tags in Golem.

MN: Oooooooooh. Freakboy’s in, time to run away from the Claw.

DT: Cruise stares down Max...

MN:...THE CLAAAAAAWW WIIIIIILLL GEEEEEEETTTT YOOOOOOOOUUUU!!!! MWAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!

DT: Oh just grow up, Michael. Cruise and Max now eye to eye...and they BOTH charge at the Clawed One!!! Double clothesline!! It looks like Cameron Cruise, Joey Melton, and Blitz have decided they want this thing settled between themselves! Cruise with the irish whip, straight into the inverted atomic drop from Max, flowing into a swinging neckbreaker by Cruise!!! What teamwork!

[Cruise tags in Melton, who stalks over Golem before dropping the point of his knee at the base of Golem’s neck. Melton grabs Golem by some of his trademark fur, and tosses him over to Max, who catches Golem with a hard bodyslam before holding him still for a series of patented Melton chops, each one eliciting a progressively louder “Whoo!” from the Georgia Dome crowd, and Mike Neely!]

MN: WHOOOOOOOOO!!!!!

DT: What?

MN: Appalachian Fog Orange Soda!

DT: Huh?

MN: So refreshing, you want to just go “Whooooo!”

DT: And I’M the shill. Riiiiiiiight. Melton with Golem...he hits him with that slingshot suplex! The pin...

ONE...

TWO...

X-ECUTIONER BREAKS IT UP WITH A BASEBALL SLIDE!!!

MN: SAFE!

DT: Max drags Golem to his feet. Irish whip, and Golem ducks under the Melton clothesline and runs headlong into Cameron Cruise, knocking him off the apron! That miscommunication may have just ended the Max/Melton double team! These two are laying into each other verbally!

MN: I can’t tell what Max is saying, cause it’s in German, but I think Joey just said something about Max’s mother, some lederhosen, and a vat of sour cream.

DT: Don’t. Wanna. Know.

MN: Then you DEFINETELY don’t wanna know what Joey JUST said.

DT: Nope, I want to know what’s going on with Golem! He’s prepping for the Claw!! He stalks in on the argument, lifts his hand...and Max and Joey toss him straight into X-Ecutioner!!! It was all a setup, and now Golem has that vicious claw inside his own partner’s mouth!!!

MN: Nothing pretty ever comes out of the use of that guy’s freaky finger.

DT: Melton grabs the stunned Golem...GERMAN SUPLEX!!!

ONE...

TWO...

JECHT BREAKS IT UP!!!

MN: Why the hell did he do that?

DT: Maybe he didn’t like some of the things Joey said about Max’s mother and Leonard Johnson.

MN: I thought you weren’t listening!

DT: Lied.

[Melton starts verbally assaulting Jecht, but that allows Max to roll the inaugural CSWA World Champion up with a schoolboy. Max nearly gets the fall, but Melton kicks out after a count of 2. Golem finally gets over and tags X-Ecutioner, who is still bleeding from the mouth.]

DT: X wants Joey Melton, but Melton doesn’t want anything to do with the big man! He tags Cameron Cruise!! Max tries for the spear...X gets out of the way and Max’s momentum carries him straight into that steel ringpost.

MN: I’m no doctor, but that’s gotta be a big ouchie.

DT: Big ouchie?

MN: I’m an announcer, damnit, not a big word talking guy.

DT: Or a fourth grade graduate.

[Cruise tries a front kick on X, but the bigger man catches the leg and drops Cruise with a quick Dragon Screw. He follows that up with a stiff spinebuster and a running elbow drop that get him a two count. Cruise tries to fight back, but an arm wringer and a crescent kick drop the Jacksonville, NC native once again.]

DT: X has Cameron once again, this time in a standing headscissors! Up for the ride...CRUISE DROPS OUT OF IT!!! He flips X over his shoulder, hooks the leg...SHIPWRECK!!! OVER THE SHOULDER CRADLE PILEDRIVER!!!! He pins!

ONE...

TWO...

THREEEEEEEEEEEE!!!! It’s down to two, and there can be only one!

TF: The team of Golem and X-Ecutioner HAS BEEN ELIMINATED!!!!

[As X-Ecutioner rolls out of the ring, Cruise exchanges a triumphant look with Melton. Blitz, meanwhile, head to their corner and strategize as the second half of the match is set to begin...]

 

[DBrunkGXW]

MN: Heeeeeerrrrrreee we are, born to be kings. We’re the princes of the yooooouuu-niverse!!!!!

DT: What?

MN: “There can be only one?” Highlander, Burgerboy!

DT: Nevertheless, one of these two teams will be tag team champions! Each team has made tags, and Melton and Jecht will start off this 2 on 2 encounter! They circle, and lock up. Melton slips under and looks for the single leg, but Jecht rolls through with a snap mare, which Melton responds to with a quick fireman’s carry takedown!!

MN: Two points!

DT: Nice display of amateur wrestling from the veteran and the big man, and now both have regained their vertical bases. They lock up again, and this time Jecht just clobbers Joey with a double axe handle. Melton rises, but the same crashing blow fells the legend yet again!

MN: Damn, with all my thinking of how great Joey was, I forgot what he is. Old.

DT: We know.

[Jecht pummels Melton with knees strikes, forearms, and fists, eventually bringing him into the Blitz corner. He tags in Max, then the two get a quick double team with a tandem hip toss and a double leg drop. Max then starts going to town on his opponent, hitting him with an arm drag and a snap suplex, then floating over for the pin. This doesn’t end it, as Melton gets the shoulder up right after Pat Jones’ count of two.]

DT: Close call for Cruise and Melton right there. Max keeps up the pace on Melton, hooking in the front facelock again. He brings up Melton, and Joey floats over into the crossface submission!!! He’s putting the pressure squarely on the shoulder Max rammed into the steel post with!

MN: You tapped out! You tapped out! You tapped-

DT: Wrong fed, Mikey. Max looks like he can’t take it!!! He’s going to...NO!!!! Jecht springboards into the ring and breaks the hold with a kneedrop! Here comes Cameron Cruise!!! He has Jecht and he gets him with the Impact DDT!!! Melton walks over and locks in the Figure Four!!! The hold that’s won him so many titles is about to get him another one!!! Jecht is slapping the canvas like a madman!

MN: One problem.

DT: What, Neely?

MN: Jecht isn’t the legal man.

DT: Oh. Yeah. Right. Oops.

MN: HAHAHAHA!!! I win.

DT: Cruise finally realizes that Max is the legal man, and he tell Melton to break the hold. Back to the corner they go, now Cameron Cruise is the legal man for his team. He goes after Max, and keeps the pain flowing by hitting a vicious looking shoulderbreaker!!! Max’s shoulder may be separated, and even if Blitz is triumphant tonight, who knows what the toll will be.

MN: Here’s a guess: a separated shoulder?

DT: Cruise with the standing headscissors...SPINNING PILEDRIVER!!! Shades of Eddy Love!!! The pin!

ONE...

TWO...

THRRRIDON’TBELIEVEIT!!!!!!! Max was SOMEHOW able to kick out of that spinning piledriver by Cameron Cruise, and Cruise thinks that Pat Jones’ count was slow! He’s arguing, and Jecht comes in from behind with a forearm to the back of the head! Melton tries to get in, but Jones holds him back!!! Cruise staggers to the opposite corner...CHAIRSHOT FROM LEONARD JOHNSON!!!! Leonard Johnson took advantage of the referee’s distraction to assist his clients with a vicious shot with a steel chair, and this match is about to end.

MN: I’d agree.

DT: Max has him in powerbomb position...Jecht to the top...BLITZKRIEG!!!!

ONE...

TWO...

THREEEEEEEEE!!!!! NOOOOOOOO!!!!! HOLY FREAKING HELL!!!!

MN: How in the name of all that’s holy did he get out!

DT: I don’t know, but what a valiant effort by Cameron Cruise tonight! Cruise tries to crawl over to his partner, but Max has his right leg in his hand. He’s struggling, but the big German keeps yanking him back! One more pull, and Cruise slipped out of his right boot!! Max had accidentally grabbed the boot by the laces and untied it, allowing Cameron Cruise to pull away! Here comes the tag, and here comes the legend!!!

MN: As has been said many times, what the f(FCC)k is wrong with German people?

DT: Melton is in and he is PUMPED! He drops Max with a dropkick! Jecht runs in, he’s met with a diving forearm! Max back up, he gets a kneelift for his efforts! Melton sees Jecht in his corner, he’s going to take a page from his old rival Hornet! Running splash...and Jecht catches him!!! Powerslam by Jecht!!! He goes up top, and Max has Melton set up for the Blitzkrieg!

MN: One escape, maybe. Two, NOT GONNA HAPPEN.

DT: Jecht sets to fly...and Cruise tosses Jecht to the outside! Melton slips out of the powerbomb...BRAINBUSTER by Joey Melton!!!! Cruise now on the offensive...REALITY CHECK!!! Inverted Russian Legsweep!!! Melton signals to the crowd that he wants to end this match!!!

MN: But, here comes Jecht!

DT: NOT FOR LONG!!!! Cruise knocks him off the apron, and heads up top! DIVING HEADBUTT TO THE OUTSIDE!!! Melton and Max are all alone, and the Figure Four is ready!! He’s got it locked in!!!!

MN: Has he tapped yet?

DT: NO!

MN: Has he tapped yet?

DT: NOOOOOOO!!!!

MN: Has he tapped out yet?

DT: NOOOOOOO!!!! MAX IS STILL FIGHTING!!!

MN: Has he tapped YET?

DT: NNNNNNNNNNNNYYYYYYYEEEEESSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!! Max can’t withstand the figure four any longer, and he’s tapped out!!! We have new tag team champions here in EPW after and epic three way elimination encounter! And just look at the pained expression on Leonard Johnson’s face after his boys came so close yet again to tag team gold.

[SFX: *DING* - Bell rings as the crowd goes NUTS.]

TF: Your winners, and the NEEEEEEEW EMPIRE PRO TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS....CAMERRRRRRRROOOOOOON CRUUUUUUUUIIIIIIISSSSSEEEE and JOOOOOOOOOOOOEEEEEEYYYY MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLTTTTTOOOOOOONNNNN!!!!!!!!!!!



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

DT: And there you have it, ladies and gentlemen. Many people have called Cameron Cruise many things over the years, but tonight, they can call him a champion, as he and Joey Melton are leaving tonight with tag-team gold around their waists.

MN: So can we assume that the Cameron Cruise Project is a success?

DT: Presumably.

MN: Now THAT'S some fun stuff.

DT: Yes it is, Mike. It certainly is.



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[Cut to the backstage area. The crowd boos as Bryan Storms walks down the hall, his forehead bandaged. He's smirking, apparently satisfied with his victory over John Doe. As he walks into the lobby, however, he sees John Doe being helped back to the locker room by medics.]

STORMS: Awww, little Johnny.

DOE: F*ck off, Storms.

STORMS: What's wrong? 'Fraid I'm gonna make you quit again?

DOE: No. I'm afraid your stench will rub off on me.

STORMS: Yeah, good one-

[A door swings open, and Golem and X-Ecutioner stroll into the lobby.]

GOLEM: Misssster Storms.

STORMS: What?

GOLEM: I have heard we got "really lucky" beating you, eh Second Coming? Well, my little puppet, I think that Golem owes you a little something. You won your match - but let's see how tough you REALLY are.

[With that, Golem slaps the Claw into Storms' mouth! Storms struggles, but Golem continues to work the Claw down the throat of the less furry man. In the background, John Doe watches with glee.]

DOE: Yeah! Kick his-

[That doesn't last long. X-Ecutioner promptly kicks Doe in the face, taking him down and locking in a Boston crab for no reason!]

DT: DAMMIT!!! SOMEONE NEEDS TO STOP THIS!!! GOLEM AND X-ECUTIONER ARE ATTACKING DOE AND STORMS FOR ABSOLUTELY NO REASON!!!

MN: The Freaks are on the WARPATH!

[As Doe and Storms begin to fade in the holds of X and Golem respectively, there is a commotion as Matt Johanssen bursts into the room, steel chair in hand and security guards behind him. Golem nods to X-Ecutioner, and the two flee the scene, leaving Johanssen to help a bloody-mouthed Storm up.]

JOHANSSEN: Sh*t... You okay, Bryan?

STORMS: Urrrrrgh...

JOHANSSEN: Those f*cking freaks.

[His eyes burning, Johanssen stares at the corridor Golem and X-Ecutioner fled down. Meanwhile, a team of medics tend to John Doe.]

[Cut to a shill for EPW action figures...]

 

[DBrunkGXW]

[CUT TO: The locker-room of “The Dragon”. Brown is sitting, dressed ready to wrestle. In the room with him is a Japanese man, short and ageing slightly, dressed in an immaculate suit, his graying hair neat and tidy. This is the man known to the world as Shinji, one of Karl’s trainers]

Shinji: Karl, are you ready for this? This is a big match.

Karl: I’m ready.

Shinji: Are you sure? Are you taking anything for granted?

Karl: I never have done in that ring, and I never will. You don’t get these opportunities by taking things for granted in that ring.

Shinji: True, but are you not overconfident in your own abilities?

Karl: Not in any way shape or form.

Shinji: Then, how will you act out there ?

Karl: The same way I did against Maelstrom, or The Watcher, or Dakota Smith, or Christian Sands, or Adam Benjamin, or any of the people I’ve faced in the past. I’ll go in as always, giving it everything I’ve got.

Shinji: Will is be enough?

Karl: I’ll know that when the match is over. Until then, I can only think it’s not enough.

Shinji: Are you ready to face a man who considers you a friend?

Karl: Outside the ring, we can be friends. Inside the ring, it’s all business. We’re opponents, and whilst I may respect Troy, there’s no way I’m letting that interfere with the match at hand. We’ve both worked too long and too hard for either of us to give the other an inch. I know he, nor Walker, will give me an easy match, so neither man can expect me to give in easily either. Mutual respect can wait for a drink after the show.

Shinji: Then I think there is nothing else for me to say. Good luck, Dragon. I will be watching from the monitors.

Karl: Thanks, Shinji. I’ll see you after the match.

[Shinji leaves the room, as Brown stands, taking a few deep breaths.]



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

[The scene opens to an abandoned warehouse. In the center of the shot is a dusty old wrestling ring set up with promotional posters littered all over the ring and ground. In the corner is a small television screen with a VCR next to it. The only light is coming through the broken shingles from the roof. In another corner we see a man with a long black leather jacket with his face turned from the camera's view. The man slowly walks over to the TV and VCR. He pops in a tape and turns on the television. The camera zooms in on the TV. For a few seconds we see snow, and then an image pops up...]

Walker with the TKO Driver! It's all over! (One, Two, KICKOUT!!!!) Walker can't believe it! AOD takes advantage, GOING HOME!! We've got a new World Champion! The cover! (One, Two ... KICKOUT!!!!!!) Oh my GOD! Walker kicked out of the Going Home! AOD is dumbfounded! TKO 2.0! Walker hits the fireman's carry into a reverse brainbuster! He makes the cover! (One, Two, KICKOUT!!!!!) Oh man, ladies and gentlemen, when I said this would be an interesting match, I had no idea this would happen! Walker grabbing AOD now as he was getting to his feet. What's this?? TKO III! This has got to be it! The cover! (One, TWO, THREE!!!!!!!!)

Voice: That was the last time that Tyrone Walker defended the LCW World Championship.... That was the last time Tyrone Walker answered a challenge. That was the last I ever saw of Tyrone Walker...

[The scene changes as we see a figure standing in front of the only sunlight coming into the room. The figure's face cannot be seen.]

Voice: Tyrone Walker, I have hunted you down. I have finally found you. Here in the bowels of Empire Pro Wrestling... You have dodged me time and time again...

[The man walks towards the dusty wrestling ring but still we cannot make out his face.]

Voice: In Limestone City Wrestling, I earned a match with you for the title. I begged for it... But at every opportunity I was denied. Whether it be by you or by that idiot of a promoter... Bottom line is that I never received my shot to prove to the great Tyrone Walker, that I was better than he.

[The man stands as we close in on his face.] Voice: Well tonight Walker, you will be wrestling for a shot at the EPW World Heavyweight Title. And I will be watching....

[The camera fades to black...]

Voice: And you won't know where I will be coming from... But rest assured...

[Silence...]

Voice: I AM COMING!

[Fade out]



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

MN: ...What was THAT all about?

DT: No idea, but apparently someone out there has business with Tyrone Walker.

MN: Gee, how'd you guess?

DT: In any case, let's move on to our next match here tonight. Folks, this next match is a triple threat contest, and the last man standing will walk out with the right to challenge for the Empire Pro World Title!

MN: Whennnn?

DT: Preferably at the next Pay-Per-View, but the number one contender can demand his shot at any time.

MN: Even at dinnertime?

DT: On any SHOW he wants.

MN: Ohhhhhhhh.

DT: Let's head down to the ring, where three of EPW's finest will face off for a shot at the gold!



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

#1 Contendership - World Heavyweight Championship
Elimination Match
Troy Douglas vs. Karl "The Dragon" Brown vs. Tyrone Walker​

TONY FATORA: Th' following contest is scheduled for one fall! It is a three-way elimination match and will determine the number one contender to the World Heavyweight Championship!

[CUE UP: "Kashmir" by Led Zeppelin. As the opening chords of the song play, the arena lights go to dark, and red and blue spotlights slowly wind throughout the arena. As Robert Plant starts singing, 4 words flash in sequence on the big screen in white..."END...OF...THE...ROAD". As Plant sings "All will be revealed", a single loud cannon shot brings the lights back and Troy Douglas emerges from the entranceway, walking down the ramp and playing to the crowd. Behind him, a montage of Troy in the ring plays on the screen. CUT TO: Troy hitting the "Off the Edge" Shooting Star Press on Stephen Waltz. CUT TO: Troy knocking DreamMaker out of the ring at GXW Genesis to win the X-treme Title. CUT TO: Troy hitting Cameron Cruise with the Broken Dream facebuster suplex. CUT TO: Troy with an Implant DDT on Clapper at Battleground Britain. CUT TO: A sequence of Troy hitting the End of the Road on various oppoenents, with the tape accelearting as it runs its course. As Troy slides into the ring, we here one more cannon shot while he salutes the crowd.]

DT: Introducing first... He hails from Greensboro, North Carolina... He weighs in at two hundred and sixty pounds... He isssss TROOOOOOOOOOOY... DOOOOOOOOUGLAAAAAAASSSSSSSS!!!

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

DT: From Nottingham, England... He weighs in at two hundred and eleven pounds... He isssss KARRRRRRRRRRRRL... THE DRAGOOOOOONNNNNNNNNNN... BROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWNNNNNNNNN!!!

[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...]

DT: And finally, from Detroit, Michigan... He weighs in at two hundred and thirty pounds... He issss TYROOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNE... WAAAAAAAAAALKEEEEEEEERRRRRRRR!!!

[SFX: *DING* - Bell rings.]

DT: The clash of styles here is really quite interesting, Mike. On one hand you have Douglas, the biggest man in the match. Then you have the lightning-quick technique of Brown and the innovative high-flying of Walker.

MN: Speak for yourself. I have a cheeseburger.

DT: ...That IS a cheeseburger you're holding!

MN: Damn right, burgerman! I got it delivered by Fat Jack's Burger Shack!

[The three men exchange looks, each one waiting for another to strike. Douglas slowly begins to maneuver towards Brown, who watches him carefully. The two exchange looks... then lock their hands and take Walker down with a tandem clothesline!]

DT: Team clothesline by Douglas and Brown! Looks like they're trying to pick off Walker in the early going!

MN: Mmm. Pass the ketchup.

DT: I don't HAVE any ketchup.

MN: Sure you do. You're the Burgerman!

[Walker pops to his feet, caught off-guard. However, Douglas smashes him with a running knee, sending the smaller man flipping to the mat. Brown, meanwhile, runs the ropes and dives onto Walker with a running senton. From there, Douglas brings Walker to his feet and body slams him with authority.]

DT: A huge slam from Douglas, as Walker's definitely in trouble here.

[As Douglas signals to him, Brown nods and hops onto the top rope. Douglas sets Walker up and whips him towards the corner. However, Walker reverses and shoots Douglas into the ropes, pushing him to the outside. Before Brown can come down, Walker rushes him and sets him up for a Rock Bottom, then leaps off the top with a moonsault! However, he doesn't get enough rotation, coming down hard on the top of his head!]

DT: There's a SKY-WALKER - OHHHHH!!!

MN: WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!?!

DT: Folks, I-I think we've had an accident! It looked like Tyrone Walker didn't get enough air on the SKY-Walker and landed on his head!

[Shaking himself off, Brown comes to his feet and begins picking up Walker. However, Walker simply falls to the canvas in a limp heap. The referee drops to one knee to check on Walker, then stands up, crossing his arms over his head in an X pattern.]

DT: Uh-oh. Referee Andrew Gardell's signalling for the paramedics - it looks like Walker's hurt!

MN: Of course he is! He landed on his freakin' NECK!

[Emerging from the entrance tunnel, a team of paramedics roll a gurney down the ramp. Cut to crowd shots, then to a video package hyping up the main event as the match is halted for now...]

 

[DBrunkGXW]

DT: We're back, folks. During the video, Tyrone Walker was put in a neck brace and wheeled out of the arena on a stretcher. We've received word that he may have broken his neck or at least sustained a concussion.
MN: Ouch. Now THAT'S a headbusta.

DT: Empire Pro Wrestling's had some difficulties with Walker's disgruntled nature in the past, but I mean it when I say that we wish Tyrone Walker a speedy recovery.

MN: Even I'M gonna miss the bastard.

DT: In the meantime, Troy Douglas and Karl Brown are still in the ring, and they don't know what to do?

[CUE UP: "Zero" - Smashing Pumpkins. The stunned crowd suddenly erupts as Dan Ryan walks out onto the ramp, mic in hand.]

RYAN: Seems we've had a little mishap here tonight. As I speak Walker's being carted off to the hospital. But as they say in Hollywood - the show must go on. That is why this match will be restarted right now - as a SINGLES match! Timekeeper, ring that damn bell and let's get this show on the road.

[With that, the crowd roars in approval as Ryan departs.]

[SFX: *DING* - Bell rings.]



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

#1 Contendership - World Heavyweight Championship
Troy Douglas vs. Karl "The Dragon" Brown​

DT: Like Ryan said - the show must go on! It's Douglas and Brown, one on one for the title shot!

MN: I still need to finish this burger, Burgerman. Stop bugging me with doing my job.

[Douglas and Brown lock up. Being the larger and stronger of the two, Douglas easily forces Brown to his knees. However, the Dragon takes Douglas down by the legs and tries to set him up for a Boston crab. Douglas grabs Brown by the leg and pulls it out, breaking up the crab attempt and sending Brown to the canvas. From there, Douglas attempts an anklelock, but Brown kicks out of it.]

DT: Nice bit of chain wrestling there, as Douglas is bigger and stronger but Brown's got speed and technical ability on his side. This should balance out quite nicely.

MN: This thing is delicious. I need to get the recipe.

[Brown pushes himself to his feet and shakes himself off. The two competitors circle and lock up again. Brown immediately executes a swift go-behind, hammerlocking Douglas. The big man throws an elbow, which Brown ducks. After a couple more missed elbows, Douglas counters into an arm wringer. Brown quickly reverses that into an arm wringer of his own. He snaps his leg back for a hook kick out of the arm wringer position, but Douglas catches the leg with his free arm, reeling Brown in and dropping him roughly to the mat.]

DT: What a block there by Douglas, catching the attempted hook kick from the Dragon!

MN: Oh, quiet and give me more ketchup. It's all seeping into the bun. I hate that.

DT: The thing's dripping already, Mike.

MN: I know, but it must drip MORE!

[With Brown on the mat, Douglas stomps on his stomach a few times, then flips him over to attempt a Scorpion Deathlock. However, Brown grabs Douglas' right calf and drags it backwards, tripping him up. Slipping out from under the big man, Brown attempts an STF, but Douglas hooks the Dragon's head and takes him down into a side headlock, which Brown rolls through to apply an armbar.]

DT: Tight armbar applied by the Dragon, as he's really giving Douglas a run for his money on the mat.

MN: Whoa, Megatron Douglas has money?

DT: It's a metaphor.

MN: No, you're wrong. Megatron has no need for money. If he wants something, he'll send Waspinator to get it for him.

DT: You're hopeless.

MN: TERRORIIIIIIZE!!!

[Douglas fights the armbar for a moment before rolling through it, coming out to grab Brown in a waistlock from behind. He powers to his feet and attempts to deliver a hard German suplex to the Dragon, but Brown grabs the back of Douglas' head and keels forward, bringing him down with a stiff facecrusher!]

DT: What a facecrusher there by the Dragon!

MN: Heehee. Megatron has no more face.

[As Douglas pushes himself to his feet and rushes Brown, the Englishman takes his opponent over with an armdrag, holding on and barring the arm. Douglas fights to his feet and reverses into a hammerlock, which Brown reverses into a hammerlock of his own. Gritting his teeth, Douglas reaches back and hooks Brown's head with his free arm, then twists him to deliver something resembling a neckbreaker.]

DT: Unique counter to the hammerlock by Troy Douglas! Almost looked like an under-the-arm neckbreaker of some sort!

MN: I guess with Walker crippled, Megatron's playing innovator tonight.

[Dragging Brown off the canvas, Douglas slaps him in a front facelock and peppers his ribs with stiff knees. From there Douglas pulls Brown up into the air, dropping him to the canvas with a textbook vertical suplex.]

DT: Big suplex there by Douglas! The cover - One - TWO - Kickout by Brown!

MN: Hah! The awesome power of the Hardcore Downtown Dragon previls!

DT: Oh no, he's combining nicknames.

MN: They were made for each other, Burgerman!

[Undaunted, Douglas pulls Brown up again, whipping him into the ropes. He throws a clothesline, but Brown ducks. The Dragon rebounds off the ropes and attempts a flying forearm, but Douglas catches him and delivers a harsh powerslam!]

DT: What a HUGE powerslam by Troy Douglas! He wants that title shot, and it shows in his intensity here tonight!

MN: I think I see a dent in the mat.

[Douglas doesn't even wait for Brown to get up; he just kicks him over and drops an elbow across his back, following with a big leg. Brown rolls to the ropes to escape, but Douglas hauls him to his feet and presses him into the air, delivering a massive slam!]

DT: OH! Douglas with a HUGE military press to Karl Brown! Hook to the leg! COULD BE IT HERE - NO, Brown JUST got that shoulder up!

MN: MEGATRON SMASH! MEGATRON SLAM! MEGATRON STRONG LIKE BULL!!!

DT: You, sir, are deranged.

[Stunned, Brown begins to push himself to his feet. This time Douglas waits for him. The big man moves in and knocks Brown into the ropes with a series of jabs, then whips him into the corner hard. Brown bounces off the buckles, and Douglas rushes in to clothesline him, only for Brown to counter with a spinning single-arm DDT!]

DT: Clothesline-NO! BROWN REVERSES! ARMBAR DDT ON THE WRAPAROUND!!!

MN: HOLY FLURKING SNIT! That was COOL!

DT: Brown knows how to pop a big move out of nowhere, and it shows!

[Holding his shoulder, Douglas shoves his way to his feet. Brown, however, doesn't relent. Steeling himself, he pushes Douglas into a corner and chops him a few times, then hauls the big man out of the corner with a strong T-Bone suplex.]

DT: T-Bone suplex there by Brown, dropping Douglas on his head! There's the lateral press! One - TWO - Douglas gets the shoulder up!

MN: That is also a headbusta.

[Not giving Douglas time to recover, Brown hops on his back and applies a full-nelson camel clutch. Douglas yells out in pain as his neck is stretched, but Brown is unmoved, tightening the hold.]

DT: Brown with the full nelson applied from a camel clutch position! This hold is putting a LOT of strain on the neck of Troy Douglas!

MN: Softening him up for the Bite, ain't he?

DT: So it would seem. Regardless, Douglas is in a great deal of pain, and it shows in his face!

MN: I guess even Megatron has a neck.

DT: Douglas trying to fight to the ropes, but he's only able to use his legs to shimmy himself along, as his arms are hooked!

MN: He's gotta do the snakey-snakey!

DT: He's slithering sidewards towards the ropes! Brown trying to prevent it!

MN: He's almost there-

DT: Douglas drapes his foot across the bottom rope!

[The referee immediately calls for the break. Obediently, Brown releases the hold. However, he then kicks Douglas' foot off the rope and reapplies the full nelson, rolling over and hooking Douglas' legs with his own to turn the hold into an elevated full nelson surfboard!]

DT: OH!!! BROWN WITH THE FULL NELSON SURFBOARD HOLD!!! This is a very deadly submission, bending Douglas' back and neck at the same time!

MN: Listen to Douglas HOWLING! This thing's KILLING him!

DT: I don't think Douglas will be able to get out of this! Brown's holding him above the mat, so he can't really get to the ropes!

MN: Megatron's screwed!

DT: You may be right! Douglas can't seem to escape this submission!

MN: He's trying!

DT: Douglas straining his arms now, trying to break Brown's grip... HE DOES IT!!! HE'S FREE OF THE HOLD!!!

[Powering out of the hold, Douglas rolls to the canvas, breathing heavily and rubbing his neck. However, Brown immediately drops him with a guillotine legdrop across the back of the neck, applying a neck vice.]

DT: Brown now with a neck vice! He's been relentless with his neck submissions here tonight, wearing Douglas down for the Dragon's Bite!

MN: And believe me, it won't take much longer.

DT: Wait, Douglas fighting to his feet!

[As the adrenaline begins to flow, Douglas powers to a standing position, throwing elbows into Brown's gut. The Englishman is thrown loose, and Douglas promptly turns and clotheslines him with authority. Brown goes down, and Douglas stumbles into a corner, holding his neck and breathing hard.]

DT: What a clothesline from the Greensboro native Douglas - but his neck is definitely giving him trouble!

MN: Mine would be too if I had the Hardcore Dragon slapping me in full nelsons.

DT: Shocking. A good point from Mike Neely.

MN: I have my moments, Burgerman.

DT: But very few.

MN: It makes them more special.

DT: Indeed.

[Recovering somewhat, Douglas steps out of the corner and pulls Brown up, whipping him into the ropes and launching him with a belly-to-belly suplex. As Brown slowly wobbles to his feet, Douglas hits the ropes himself and rebounds with a knee to the Dragon's face!]

DT: What a running knee from Troy Douglas, as he's back in control of this match!

MN: The Energon is starting to kick in!

[Beckoning for Brown to get up, Douglas moves in and drops him with a running DDT. He quickly pulls Brown off the canvas and brings him up for a suplex. However, Brown floats through and lands with an inverted facelock on Douglas, snapping him down into the Dragon's Bite!]

DT: Suplex - WAIT!!! DRAGON'S BITE!!! DRAGON'S BITE!!!

MN: WHERE'D THAT COME FROM?!?!

DT: BROWN COVERS!!! IT'S ALL OVER!!!

ONE!!!


TWO!!!



THREEEEEE!!!

...NO!!! NO!!! DOUGLAS KICKED OUT!!! I CAN'T BELIEVE IT!!!

MN: NO WAY!!! HE KICKED OUT OF THE BITE!!!

DT: DOUGLAS IS BATTERED, BUT HE WON'T GIVE UP!!! HE'S GOING TO FIGHT UNTIL HE REALIZES HIS DREAM!!!

[Looking slightly dismayed, Brown pulls Douglas up and sets him up for a second Dragon's Bite. However, Douglas waistlocks him and straightens awkwardly, leaving Brown draped over his shoulder. Still unsteady, Douglas sets Brown up and drills him with a tombstone piledriver!]

DT: WOW!!! WHAT A TOMBSTONE BY TROY DOUGLAS!!! THE COVER!!!

ONE!!!

TWO!!!

THREEEEENNNNNNOOOOOOOOO!!! BROWN KICKS OUT!!!

MN: BUT HE GOT DROPPED ON HIS HEAD!!!

[Still looking dazed, Douglas pulls Brown off the mat and whips him into the corner. The big man charges, but Brown gets his elbow up to block it. Grabbing a stunned Douglas by the hair, Brown hops up top and prepares to take Douglas down with an inverted tornado DDT.]

DT: Oh MY! Looks like Brown's preparing for a Dragon's Bite with a literal top-rope twist!

MN: That'll put Dougie away for SURE!

[Alas, 'tis not to be. Douglas reaches up and slugs Brown in the gut, stunning him. Ducking free of Brown's grip, Douglas goes up top and slugs Brown twice, then hooks his arms and comes flying off the top with the End Of The Road!]

DT: END OF THE ROAD!!! END OF THE ROAD!!! IT'S GOTTA BE OVER!!! DOUGLAS WITH THE COVER!!!

ONE!!!


TWO!!!



THREEEEEEEEEEE!!!

-NO!!! IT'S NOT!!! BROWN'S SHOULDER IS UP!!!

MN: HOLY COW!!! THAT'S NUTS!!!

DT: DOUGLAS THOUGHT HE HAD THE MATCH WON, BUT NOT QUITE!!!

[Frustrated, Douglas slaps his forehead with both hands. He then lets out a low breath, calming. Dragging Brown into the center of the ring, he quickly applies a perfect Scorpion Deathlock!]

DT: SCORPION DEATHLOCK!!! SHADES OF DOUGLAS' BOYHOOD HERO, HORNET!!!

MN: The tables have TURNED, Mr. Brown! NOW who's in the submission, huh?!

DT: Brown's fighting it! Trying to get to the ropes!

MN: He's almost there -

DT: DOUGLAS PULLS HIM BACK!!!

MN: AHAHAHAHA!!! YOU'S MESSED UP NOW, DRAGON!!!

DT: Brown fighting it! Trying to get to the ropes again!

MN: He's almost there!

DT: Almost there - NO!!! BROWN TAPS!!! BROWN TAPS!!! DOUGLAS WINS!!! DOUGLAS WINS!!!

MN: AND HE WAS SO CLOSE!!!

[Dropping Brown, Douglas slowly slumps to the mat, breathing heavily.]

[SFX: *DING* - Bell rings.]

TONY FATORA: Here is your winnerrrrr and the NEEEEEEEEEEEW Number One Contender to the Worrrrld Heavyweight Cham-pionship... TRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOYYYYYYY... DOOOOOOOOUGLAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSS!!!



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DT: What a hellacious contest we just witnessed! Douglas and Brown seemed evenly matched, but in the end it's Troy Douglas who walks out as the number one contender!

MN: Megatron's movin' on up! That guy's going places!

DT: I concur. Douglas has been on a major roll lately, and this victory will benefit him tremendously.

MN: I guess now he gets a shot at his dream, huh?

DT: Definitely. Folks, we've only got two matches to go - but first, a video package!

[Cut to a video package of Jonathan Marx and Adam Benjamin.]

 

[DBrunkGXW]

DT: Welcome back, everyone. The Intercontinental Title is on the line in this next match, as "Yours Truly" Adam Benjamin defends the gold against "Gentleman" Jonathan Marx!

MN: IT'S EMPEROR TIME, BABY!!! WOOWOO!!!

DT: Both Douglas and Benjamin have racked up some impressive victories here in Empire Pro and are accomplished technicians in their own right. Bank on this one to be a classic.

MN: I've got money riding on it.

DT: Let's go to the ring!



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EPW Intercontinental Championship
"Yours Truly" Adam Benjamin (C) vs. "Gentleman" Jonathan Marx​

TONY FATORA: Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is set for one fall, with no time limit, and it is for the Empire Pro Wrestling INTERCONTEINTAL CHAMPIONSHIP.

[The crowd cheers madly at the mention of the title match, as fading up, “Only Happy When It Rains” by Garbage kicks in. Jonathan Marx walks down to the ring confidently, staring intently at the ring. He climbs the steps, taking his time, as the crowd still cheers. He pauses on the apron, glancing round at the assembled fans, before stepping through the ropes, walking over to a corner away from the ramp way to stretch]

TONY FATORA: Introducing first, the challenger. He weighs in at two hundred fifteen pounds, and hails from Princeton, New Jersey... this...isssssssss........GENTLEMAN.... JOOOOOOONNNNNNNAAAAAAATTTTTTHHHHHHHAAAAAAAANNNNNNNN...MMMMMMMMMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX!!!!!!!!!!!!

DT: Fans, Marx has been on a bit off a losing streak of late, but he was up against two of the toughest men in this industry and took both to the limit. He also lost the last encounter between these two, so he must be looking for some fragment of revenge.

MN: But he’s never faced any challenge as steep as this man about to make his entrance.

[“Lose Yourself” by Eminem begins to blast as "Yours Truly" Adam Benjamin makes his way slowly to the ring. Adam is wearing two English flag bandana's, one that covers his head and the other that covers the lower part of his face revealing only his stone cold eyes. He glares at Marx, not taking his eyes off the challenger, as he too climbs the steps, eyeing Marx as he steps through the ropes, before standing in his corner, removing the bandanas]

TONY FATORA: And his opponent, weighing in at two hundred, forty five pounds... he hails from the United Kingdom, and is the reigning Empire Pro INTERCONTINENTAL CHAMPION...ladies and gentlemen, this is YOUR’S TRULY... AAAAAAAAAAADDDDDDDDDAAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMM...BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEENNNNN NNNNNNNNNJJJJJJJJJJJJAAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNN!!!!!!!!!!!

DT: This is set to be a good match, fans. Both are masters at the mat game, truly two of the greatest technicians you are likely to ever see. The ref is checking both men for foreign objects, calling them to the middle to do things properly.

MN: Isn’t Benjamin a foreign object?

DT: He’s the Intercontinental champion, Mike. He’s allowed to be in this match. The ref now shows the belt to the fans, handing it now over to the timekeeper... and he signals the start of the match. Marx and Benjamin circling each other, neither man wanting to make a mistake.

[Marx and Benjamin circle each other, feigning a lock up, backing away, feigning again. Finally, they lock up, Benjamin quickly scooting behind for a hammerlock, cranking on the arm. Marx holds his shoulder for a moment, before reaching between his legs to try and trip Benjamin. Finding this a fruitless course of action, he rolls forward, taking Benjamin over with a roll, before applying a side headlock on the mat. Benjamin rolls sideways, breaking the hold, but grabbing the arm, locking in a grounded hammerlock, which Marx counters by rolling through, hooking Benjamin in a leg lock. The champion rolls over yet again, pushing Marx off with his free leg, as the two men get to their feet quickly, neither man quicker than the other]

DT: As we expected, even mat wrestling from these two, as they both look for the opening, and the crowd were really into that exchange.

MN: I never liked mat wrestling. They’re gonna have to do something big to keep my attention.

DT: The only thing that will keep your attention is some way to annoy me. The two gladiators lock horns again, this time Marx with the go behind into a waist lock...no, Benjamin reverses into a waist lock of his own. A nice dump there from the champion, taking down the smaller man, looking to keep him down likely with the mat expertise.

[Benjamin floats over, hooking in a front face lock, as Marx struggles to get his arms around Benjamin’s waist. Marx uses hi positioning to help push himself and Benjamin to a standing base, where Marx lifts the champ up and over with a Northern Lights Suplex]

DT: Pinning combination... no, Benjamin kicks out before the count of one, as Marx now kicks him in the gut...hooking him here...NICE vertical suplex, as he rolls over, lifting Benjamin still with a face lock applied... Benjamin drops down behind on the second attempted suplex, and SCORES there with a German suplex, holding onto to it... no, Marx kicks out at one. These two have such similar styles it’s going to be difficult for either man to be able to win here today.

MN: The champ looks in control as he takes Marx down with a double leg take down though.

[Once again on the mat, Benjamin grabs Marx’s left leg, wrapping it round his own body in a simple leg lock. Marx grimaces slightly, before putting Benjamin in a chin lock, pulling back as he tries to rock the weight of two men forward. Benjamin continues to crank on the leg, until Marx finally manages to topple both himself and the champ forward. Standing on one leg, he wrenches back with a move approaching a camel clutch, forcing Benjamin to break his leg lock as he makes a swift approach to the ropes]

DT: The champ with the smart move there, making it to the ropes before Marx could do any real damage. You can see Marx ever so slightly favouring that leg, shaking out the kinks.

MN: Benjamin should know them; they were a big band in the sixties.

DT: Huh?

MN: British progressive rock, Dave. Don’t tell me you didn’t know that, you un-hip cat.

DT: Regardless, neither man looks willing to go into another tie up. Both men eyeing each other, as Benjamin gets to his feet... and gets taken down by Marx with an impressive hip toss, keeping the arm locked into an arm bar.

[Benjamin rolls backwards, Marx still holding onto the arm. As the champ gets to his feet, Marx steps in, hitting an arm drag, again holding onto the arm, cranking it as he steps one leg over the champ, trying to keep him grounded. Benjamin shows some signs of discomfort, as he looks for a way to get out of the hold. Finally, he settles on grabbing the leg Marx had stepped over with, rolling through to break the hold, still holding the leg and locking in an STF. Not allowing himself to be trapped in his own move, Marx quickly drags himself to the nearby ropes, forcing the break]

DT: And Marx now to the ropes, as the ref looks for a clean break...NO, as Benjamin drops the elbow on Marx’s back, and again... picking him up

MN: A NICE forearm smash there, very reminiscent of Pat Roach.

DT: Who?

MN: Pat Roach, former British heavyweight wrestler who’s been in films including Conan the Destroyer.

DT: Well aren’t you a veritable fountain of knowledge today. Benjamin repeats the uppercut, whipping Marx to the ropes.

[On the rebound, Benjamin hits with a firm clothesline, dropping straight down with a fist drop to the forehead of the challenger. Keeping things on the mat, the champ locks in a rear chin lock, sitting Marx up, and placing a knee firmly in his back, wrenching on the neck. The ref checks that it’s not a choke, then asks Marx if he wants to give up. Resiliently, Marx refuses, trying to pry the champions’ hands loose. Benjamin keeps the grip firm, keeping Marx firmly on the mat. Slowly, the challenger manages to rise to his feet, Benjamin behind him, keeping the hold firmly locked in. Marx grabs behind Benjamin’s head, looking for a jawbreaker, but Benjamin steps on the back of the challengers left knee, taking him back down to the mat]

DT: The champion’s in control, working over the head and neck with the chin lock. Marx trying to get to his feet again...

MN: And Benjamin’s gonna be drinking his tea through a straw after that one!! Nice counter with the jawbreaker, and Marx hits a clothesline.

[Marx waits for the champ to get to his feet again, charging in with another clothesline. He picks Benjamin up, scoring with a belly-to-belly overhead suplex, which sends the champ flying across from one side of the ring to the other. Benjamin holds his back as he rises, Marx quickly following in. At the last second, Benjamin steps forward, taking Marx OVER the top rope with a Mexican arm drag!! Marx lands hard on the outside, yelling in pain from the impact, holding his back, as Benjamin looks scornfully down at him for a moment, before sliding under the ropes to the outside himself]

DT: HOLY COW!!! Benjamin just took the advantage back with that HUGE arm drag to send Marx CRASHING down!!

MN: Now THAT’S technical wrestling. GO HARDCORE TECHNICAL!!

[The champ stomps away a couple of times on Marx’s back, before whipping him into the security railing. The fans are going nuts as Marx sinks down to his knees, his face showing a not inconsiderable amount of pain. The champ follows up, suplexing the challenger into the edge of the ring apron, before driving him shoulder first into the ring post. He grips injured arm, wrapping it around the ring post, as he slides back into the ring, pushing with his foot against the post from the inside, stretching the challengers arm and shoulder. The ref reaches four before Benjamin releases the hold, and admonishes the champ for his unfair conduct, as Marx sinks into the ring, holding his arm]

MN: A mean streak here in Benjamin, as Marx is in a lot of pain. You know, back in the old days, he’d have gotten a public warning for that.

DT: A what?

MN: A public warning. Two public warnings, and you lost. You REALLY don’t know your British wrestling, do you?

DT: I hate you.

MN: You’ve said.

[Benjamin moves past the ref, keeping his gaze firmly on the challenger, as he places a stiff kick to the injured shoulder. Marx screams in pain, as Benjamin winds up another kick... but Marx manages to catch the leg, using his good arm to complete a dragon screw leg whip, holding onto the leg in a grapevine. Quickly, Benjamin kicks out of the hold, as both men rise quickly. Both men charge each other, Marx dropping down and catching the champ with a drop toe hold, skimming over into a hammerlock on the mat, which Benjamin reverses with a bizarre looking headlock, rolling over to grind Marx’s neck and breaking the hammerlock. Marx manages to lift his legs up, gripping Benjamin’s head in a head scissors]

DT: The challenger now with a head scissors on the champ, as he looks to slow down the pace of this match to gain some time to recover.

MN: He needs it after that vicious offence on the outside. You know, Shirley Crabtree would never have done that.

DT: Who on earth is Shirley Crabtree?!?!

MN: Big Daddy.

[Marx applies more pressure with the head scissors, as Benjamin fights to free his head. He manages to loosen Marx’s grip slightly, allowing himself to slip out of the hold. He rises quickly, catching the slower Marx in his arms, whipping him into the corner. Marx bounces out of the corner, straight into Benjamin, who suplexes him over with a belly to belly over head suplex, Marx landing awkwardly on his neck and shoulders, slumping to the mat. Benjamin moves in, making the cover, but Marx somehow manages to kick out after two. Undeterred, the champ rolls Marx onto his stomach, before setting him in a surfboard, keeping his own shoulders off the mat as he pulls back on Marx’s arms, looking to cause as much pain as possible. Marx is visibly in pain from the hold, as the ref signals to the timekeeper that Marx refuses to give up]

MN: Marx refusing to give up despite that onslaught from the champ. This is actually interesting for a technical match.

DT: Marx trying to fight the pain, trying to free his arms... he manages to!!!

MN: I bet Adam will be feeling that later, as Marx falls straight onto his chest!!

[The champion pushes the challenger off to one side, trying to catch his breath again after the impact. Marx lies on the canvas, trying to fight off the pain in his back and shoulders. Both men are slow to rise, the ref reaching a count of six before Adam Benjamin makes it to his feet. He targets the back of Marx, stomping away, before locking in a camel clutch. Marx crawls slowly to the ropes, almost making it, before Benjamin leaps into the air, over Marx, dropping an elbow right in the small of the smaller mans back. The yell of pain is clearly audible, as Benjamin pulls him back to the centre of the ring, dropping his knee into the same spot five times repeatedly. He then picks the smaller man off the mat, whipping him to the ropes, taking him down with a tilt-a-whirl backbreaker, pushing down on Marx’s chin and legs to stretch his back out some more. Marx breathes heavily, the ref checking to see if he wants to call it quits, but he stubbornly refuses freeing one of his legs from the restraining influence of Benjamin’s hand, kicking the champ a few times in the head. Benjamin, stunned, lets Marx slump to the mat. Regaining his bearings, the champ moves in again, locking the challenger in a front face lock as Marx rises]

DT: Benjamin here looks like he could be going for a suplex... he lifts him up... MARX FALLS BEHIND, lands on his feet...SLEEPER HOLD!! Sleeper hold applied by Marx, and Benjamin’s struggling to fight it off!!!

MN: Finally. I was wondering when the Gentleman would turn up the juice.

[Benjamin thrashes about, trying to dislodge the smaller man, who cranks back, adding more pressure. Benjamin at one points looks like he’s going to hit a jawbreaker, but Marx manages to shift his weight, dropping himself and the champ down to the mat in a sleeper neck breaker. Both men lay on the mat, the ref checking them over, before beginning to employ the ten count]

DT: Both men down, as Marx pulls out what surely was a desperation move to buy himself some time.

MN: He should’ve asked me. I know a nice little shop a few blocks away, sells nice watches.

DT: I knew it was too good to be true.

MN: I know. The ref’s at five... six...

DT: Seven...

Eight...

Ni..no, Benjamin stirs, making it to his feet, using the ropes for leverage. Marx stirring, as Benjamin moves in...Marx with the right hand to the midsection of Benjamin... and another, doubling the champ over.

MN: Those punches would make Rocky proud I’ll bet.

[Weary, Marx pulls himself to his feet, hitting a Russian leg sweep on Benjamin. The challenger, holding his back, slowly makes his way to the corner, climbing to the second rope, and scoring with a fist drop. He makes the cover, getting a two count, before whipping Benjamin into the corner. Benjamin reverses, sending Marx crashing into the corner, and follows in, looking for a splash. Marx steps out of the way, and as the champ eats turnbuckle pad, the smaller man locks his arms around his waist, hoisting him over with a German suplex, rolling over into a bridge on top of the champ]

DT: Marx reversing the splash...the pin...two..

THR...NOO!! No, no no. The champ refuses to be put away like that, getting the shoulder up just in the knick of time. Marx now grabbing the knee of Benjamin, slamming it down into the mat, as he looks to lock in... MARXISM!!! Marxism in the centre of the ring!!!

MN: Benjamin looks ready to tap, Dave.

DT: The champion’s grip on that title is slipping...he’s trying to crawl over to the ropes... he’s craaaawwllling over....NO!!! Marx releases the hold, dragging the champ back to the centre of the ring, and locks it in again!!!

MN: Benji’s gotta tap.

[Howling in pain, Benjamin starts to crawl to the ropes again. Again, Marx lets go of to hold, and tries to drag the champion back to the middle of the ring. This time, however, Benjamin rolls onto his back, reaches up, and rolls the challenger up with a small package for two. Marx quickly gets to his feet, connecting with a stiff knee to the face of the rising champion. Tired, Marx lifts the champion up, whipping him into the corner. He follows in with a clothesline, before lifting Benjamin up to the top rope. The crowd gets more excited, as Marx follows him, hooking his head, and rocks him back for what looks like a superplex. Benjamin, however, manages to shift his weight forward, connecting with a shining wizard in mid-air, as the fans go wild. Marx drops straight down like a stone, the champion on top of him]

DT: THAT’S THE MOVE THAT WON HIM THE TITLE!!! One...

TWO...

THRE....NO!!!!!! Marx SOMEHOW kicks out!!!

MN: And Benjamin can’t believe it!!! He’s done EVERYTHING he can think of to put this guy away, and can’t.

[Furious, Benjamin screams at the ref, who shouts back that it was two, signalling an inch to say how close it was. Benjamin sees Marx getting to his feet, and runs the ropes, looking for a second shining wizard. As he leaps up, Marx ducks, lying flat on the mat as Benjamin goes straight into the corner knee first. The champ hangs there, holding the ropes as he yells in pain. Meanwhile, Marx rises behind him, grabbing his head, and planting him with a neckbreaker out of the corner. Marx goes for the cover, and gets a near two count, but Benjamin manages to kick out. Marx takes a step back, allowing the champion to get to his feet, before charging in, hitting a shining wizard of his own]

DT: SHINING WIZARD BY MARX!!! ONE

TWO......

THR.....AND BENJAMIN KICKS OUT!!!

MN: Neither man wants to lose it tonight, this title means too much to both of them!!

DT: Marx now with the advantage, picking the champion up, looking for another suplex...Benjamin with shots to the ribs... a kick to the legs takes Marx down. Marx to his feet...kick to the gut by the champ.

MN: Looks like he’s setting him up for something... Benjamin lifting Marx up for a powerbomb... NO!! It’s a Benjidriver!!! That powerbomb into a piledriver looks to have it sown up, as Benjamin crawls over... one,

TWO

THR... NO!! AGAIN Marx refuses to quit.

[More frustrated than angry, Benjamin lifts the limp body of The Gentleman off the ma, ramming him spine first into the corner. Marx limply falls over his shoulder, as Benjamin lifts him to the top rope. Benjamin starts to follow him, giving him a hard slap across the face. It seems to be a bad idea, though, as Marx fights back, pushing Benjamin off the ropes. Benjamin lands on his feet, awkwardly, looking like he twisted his ankle on the fall. Marx flies off the top rope with a cross body block, landing squarely on the champion, looking the leg for the cover]

DT: Marx with the cover...

One...

TWO...


THREE!!!!

MN: NO!! NO!! BENJAMIN KICKS OUT AGAIN!!

[Tired, exhausted, both men lay motionless on the mat. The ref, concerned, checks men, before again starting the count.]

DT: These two have given it their all in a technical marvel here today and it’s clearly taken it’s toll, as both men lie there. We might have a draw here. The ref’s up to four...

Five...

Six...

Seven... eight...

Nine...

[With the ref at nine, Marx rolls over, draping an arm on the champion]

MN: One... TWO....THNO!! Benjamin kicks out!!! You’ve got to think that whoever can hit the next big move will win this match.

[Both men slowly, agonisingly, manage somehow to get to their feet. They trade lefts and rights, before Benjamin manages to floor Marx. He runs the ropes, leaps up for a shining wizard, but Marx grabs hold of him, taking him over with a HUGE, and very bizarre, belly to belly suplex. Benjamin lands firmly, as Marx turns and almost pounces with his last ounce of strength onto the champion]

DT: HOLY COW!!! WHAT WAS THAT!!?!??

MN: TWO...


THREE!!! JONATHAN MARX HAS WON THE INTERCONTINENTAL TITLE!!! WE HAVE A NEW CHAMPION!! And off one of the strangest counters I’ve EVER seen!!!

[SFX: Ding, ding, ding, ding]

TONY FATORA: The winner of this match, and NEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWW Intercontinental champion... GEEEENNNNNTTTTTLLLLLLLEEEEEEEMMMMMMMAAAAAAANNNN....... JJJJOOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNNAAA AAAAATTTTTTTTHHHHHHHAAAAAAAANNNNNNNN....... MMMMMMMMMMMMMMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!



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

DT: What a showing from these two, as Marx pulls it all out after some sickening offence from Benjamin to counter the shining wizard SOMEHOW into a suplex for the pin. Say what you will, but these two deserve a lot of credit for this GREAT classic showcase of technical wrestling!!

MN: Even I’M impressed. I can’t WAIT to see what paths these guys take now, as Benji gave it his all and truly deserves a rematch.

DT: I couldn’t agree more, Mike. This was the sort of match that DVD collections are made for.

MN: Oh, hell yes.

DT: But just think of what's following it! Don't go away, folks! When we come back, it's the one we've all been waiting for! Beast! Sands! The World Title on the line! NEXT!

[Cut to a video package for the Sands/Beast rivalry.]

 

[DBrunkGXW]

DT: Welcome back, everyone! It's time for the match we've all been waiting for!

MN: Hell yeah!

[Cut to the ring. Ominous music begins to play as the steel cage descends from the rafters, dropping down slowly over the ring.]

DT: And here comes that unforgiving steel cage, which means it's time for the match we've been waiting for two and a half months to see!

MN: Oh MAN! Even I want to see this one!

DT: It's the rematch from Black Dawn! Beast challenging Christian Sands for the World Heavyweight Title in a steel cage! But this isn't just about the title anymore, Mike! There's so much at stake here! Pride! Respect! Dignity! These two have been at each other's throats for months, but now it all comes to a head!

MN: You just KNOW there's gonna be blood!

DT: The cage has come down - let's get this show on the road!



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EPW World Heavyweight Championship
Steel Cage Match
Christian Sands (C) vs. Beast​

[Cue up: "Dark Machine" - Paul Oakenfold. 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 pauses at the foot of the ramp to stare up at the steel cage, then shrugs, walking in through the door and holding the title high as the crowd boos thunderously.]

DT: And here comes the World Champion! This is a man who has tormented Beast ever since Black Dawn, but you've got to believe he's intent on retaining the title here tonight!

MN: Well, no DUH! He's the champ!

[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. 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, followed closely by Lindsay Troy. Stepping into the cage, Beast stares across at Sands, who stares back.]

DT: This could very well be the night for Beast to shine! He's chased this title ever since his arrival here in Empire Pro Wrestling, and now he has the chance to take it home at the expense of his rival Sands!

MN: As IF he'll win. He brought the raahr last time and STILL lost.

[SFX: *DING* - Bell rings. Sands and Beast step into the center of the cage, Tony Fatora and the official standing between them.]

TONY FATORA: Ladies and gentlemen, th' following contest is scheduled for one fall! It will be contested inside this steel cage for the Empire Pro Wrestling Heavyweight Championship of the World! The rules are as follows! Victory can be attained through pinfall or submission, or by escaping the cage by climbing over the edge and touching both feet to the floor outside the cage! The door may not be used for escape and will be bolted shut!

[The portly announcer gestures to Sands, who is staring at Beast intently.]

TONY FATORA: Introducing first... He hails from Barrie, Ontario... He weighs in at two hundred and seventy pounds... He is the reigning and defending Empire Pro Wrestling Heavyweight Champion of the World... He isssss CHRRRRRRRRISTIAAAAANNNNNNN... SAAAAAAAAAAAAANDSSSSSSSSS!!!

[CROWD: *BOOING LOUDLY*]

TONY FATORA: And the challenger!

[CROWD: "BEAST! BEAST! BEAST! BEAST!"]

TONY FATORA: He hails from Winnipeg, Manitoba! He weighs in at two hundred and ninety pounds! He is accompanied at ringside by the Queen of the Ring, Lindsay Troy! He is the number one contender to the Heavyweight Championship of the World! THISSSS... ISSSSS... BEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSST!!!

[As the crowd roars, Beast stares a hole through Sands, his eyes burning with intensity.]

[Quickly, Fatora turns and slips out of the cage. An official at ringside locks the cage behind him. Inside the cage, senior referee Pat Jones signals for the bell.]

[SFX: *DING* - Bell rings!]

DT: And there's the bell! The Georgia Dome is already roaring as we get this match under way!

[Slowly, Sands and Beast step towards each other. For a long moment they simply stare at each other, hatred crackling in the air between then. The crowd eats it up.]

DT: An intense staredown between the champion and the challenger!

MN: You can FEEL the electricity in the air! These two hate each other!

[After a moment, Sands raises a hand to signal for a test of strength. Beast stares at him, then extends his own hand. However, Sands boots him in the gut and begins firing off knife-edged chops, backing Beast into a corner as the crowd boos!]

DT: What a cheap trick! Sands fakes the test of strength and starts the match with a flurry of chops!

MN: Cheap my foot! He outsmarted the big oaf!

[With Beast in the corner, Sands chops furiously at him. However, Beast grabs him by the neck and reverses him into the corner. Growling, Beast puts the boots to Sands, then pushes him against the turnbuckle and nails him with a stiff overhand chop that draws a "WOOOOO" from the fans. Sands bucks from the impact and stumbles out of the corner, holding his chest.]

DT: What a huge chop by Beast!

MN: It's like a trip to the woodshed in here!

[Pushing Sands into another corner, Beast delivers a pair of elbow smashes, stunning his opponent. Beast quickly hooks Sands under the arms and wheels him out of the corner with a powerful beel, launching the champion at least twelve feet across the ring!]

DT: OH! Beast beels Sands out of the corner with auTHORity!

MN: Holy monkey! Sands should be earning Air Miles for that flight!

[Holding his back, Sands stumbles to his feet. Beast immediately moves in and clotheslines him. With a yell of "Get up!", Beast waits for Sands to rise, then hits the ropes and rebounds to clock Sands in the face with a running boot! The champion goes down hard, and Beast drops down for a cover.]

DT: There's the cover by the challenger off the boot! Could be it - No, Sands kicks out at two!

MN: Could be it... yeah right! It was a big boot, not an Absolution!

[Roughly, Beast pulls Sands to his feet and whips him into the ropes. The challenger throws a clothesline, but Sands ducks and spins to come up behind Beast. He stuns Beast with a forearm to the kidneys, then takes him to the canvas with a hard neckbreaker!]

DT: Oh, neckbreaker by Sands! Cover - Two - Kickout by the challenger!

MN: Looks like the momentum shifted.

DT: So it seems.

[Not allowing Beast to recover, Sands slugs the bigger man in the face several times. Beast fights to his feet, but Sands connects with a jawbreaker. Stunned, Beast stumbles towards the ropes, only for Sands to grab him in a rear waistlock and heave him up and over with a huge German suplex!]

DT: OH! There's a German suplex by Sands, as he's taken control of this match!

MN: Good!

[Rubbing his neck, Beast comes to his feet, only to meet a boot to the gut from Sands. The champion goes for an Irish whip, but Beast reverses, sending Sands into the corner. Steaming in, Beast clocks Sands with a running clothesline, then whips him across the ring into the other corner. Again Beast steams in, but this time Sands gets a boot up to catch Beast in the face. As Beast stumbles, Sands grabs him and drives him to the mat with a bulldog.]

DT: Bulldogging headlock there by Sands, capitalizing on the blocked charge by Beast.

MN: Just call it a bulldog, Professor!

DT: I said bulldogging headlock. It's the same thing.

MN: BULLDOG!

[Beast shakes himself off and comes to his feet. Sands, however, is already on him. He grabs a handful of Beast's hair, the other hand gripping the big man's trunks; from there, he launches Beast face-first into the cage wall!]

DT: OH! BEAST LAUNCHED INTO THE STEEL!!!

MN: YES!

DT: That cage is a deadly weapon, and Sands realizes that!

MN: And it's ALLLLL LEGAL, BABY!!!

[The impact of steel on face dazes Beast. He reels on the mat for a moment, but not for long; Sands drags him off the mat and goes to slam the big man's face into the cage. Beast gets his arms up and blocks it. Gritting his teeth, Sands tries again to no avail. As Sands makes a third attempt, Beast elbows him in the gut, then grabs him and shoves him into the cage!]

DT: BEAST BLOCKS IT! SANDS EATS STEEL!

MN: NO! STOP THE MATCH!

[Sands reels back from the cage, stunned. Quickly, Beast grabs him and slams his opponent's face into the cage wall repeatedly! Grabbing Sands by the hair, the challenger grates the champion's face across the steel mesh!]

DT: OH! BEAST USING THAT CAGE LIKE A CHEESE GRATER!!!

MN: DQ!!! DQ!!!

DT: There are no DQs! It's all legal!

[After a moment of grating, Beast grabs Sands and launches him into the center of the ring with a rough toss. Sands lands on his back, blood dripping down his forehead.]

DT: And Sands has been gouged right open by that unforgiving steel!

MN: Boo! Hiss!

[Grimly, Beast moves in and slaps a headlock on Sands. From there he begins hammering away at Sands' face, specifically targeting the cut opened up by the cell. After a few punches, Sands braces himself and heaves Beast off the mat, drilling him with a huge back suplex!]

DT: Beast working that wound there - NO, Sands with a BIG back suplex to take Beast down!

MN: Good! Now break his neck!

[Sands pauses for a moment to wipe a trickle of blood from his right eye. He grabs Beast and stuns the big man with a knee to the gut, hooking him up and slamming him with a gutwrench suplex. As Beast recovers, Sands smirks, then waistlocks him and throws him into the cage with a belly-to-belly suplex!]

DT: MY GOD!!! BELLY-TO-BELLY INTO THE CAGE, AND BEAST CRASHES AGAINST THE STEEL!!!

MN: YES!!! HE'S DEAD!!!

DT: WHAT A SICK MOVE!!!

[CROWD: "Ho-ly sh*t! Ho-ly sh*t!"]

[Limply, Beast falls from the cage wall. Sands quickly rolls him over and pins him.]

DT: The cover! It's gotta be over!

One!

TWO!

...TWO AND A HALF! Beast kicks out!

MN: Gah! I hate it when he's all resilient!

[Grabbing a handful of Beast's hair, Sands drags him to his feet, then knees him in the gut to stun him. From there Sands hits the ropes and brings Beast down with a rolling neck snap. As a dazed Beast teeters to his feet, Sands grabs him and wheels him into the cage headfirst!]

DT: And Beast gets sent into the cage now!

MN: YES! How's THAT for the Beast's Lair, huh?!

[As Beast falls from the cage wall with a cut opened in his forehead, Sands advances on him, kicking him hard in the ribs to force him to the mat. Sands immediately starts stomping away at the big man's head, working the heel of his boot across Beast's cut, opening it further and smearing blood across the head of the challenger.]

DT: DAMMIT, Sands is taking his boot to Beast's cut-open forehead!

MN: My dawg! That's how to roll!

[Beast edges himself into a corner, but Sands follows and continues to stomp him. After a few more boots the champion crosses the ring, then sprints back towards the corner and drops to the canvas to clock Beast with a huge baseball slide to the jaw!]

DT: OH! Sands turns Beast's lights out with that HUGE sliding dropkick!

MN: He's gonna be feeling THAT when he wakes up!

[Grabbing Beast under the armpits, Sands pulls him up and props him in the corner. From there the champion chops viciously at Beast's chest, drawing boos from the fans.]

DT: Sands going to the chopping block here, trying to wear Beast down bit by bit!

MN: NOBODY chops like Sands, man! Can you HEAR those things?! They're like BULLETS!

[After a few more chops, Sands grabs ahold of Beast's arms and whips him across the ring. Beast hits the opposite corner hard and bounces out backwards. Sands runs the ropes and rushes Beast, but the big man recovers and nearly beheads his rival with a massive boot to the face!]

DT: Sands to the ropes - BEAST DECKS HIM WITH A BOOT!!!

MN: That thing's like a size sixteen! I wouldn't want that in MY face!

DT: When you get booted by a guy like Beast, it's not easy to get up!

[Holding his bloody face, Sands comes to his feet, but Beast clotheslines him down to a big pop. Again Sands pops up, only for Beast to clothesline him a second time. The champion rolls to his feet a third time, and Beast whips him into the ropes, then sweeps him up and LAMBASTES him with a monstrous spinebuster that causes the cage to shake!]

DT: WOW, A HUGE SPINEBUSTER BY BEAST!!! The cover!

One!

TWO!

...NO! Sands kicked out!

MN: Someone check for a hole in the canvas!

[Slowly, Beast pulls a limp Sands off the mat. He forces his rival down into a standing headscissors, hooking one of his arms as the crowd roars!]

DT: WE COULD SEE AN ABSOLUTION HERE!!!

[Or not. Sands suddenly pulls out Beast's legs, taking him to the canvas onto his back. From there, Sands takes ahold of Beast's legs and backs towards a corner, then falls back to catapult Beast into it. However, Beast gets his hands out and grabs the ropes to block it. Sands doesn't notice. He smirkingly turns to attack - and eats a kick to the gut by Beast, who rapidly underhooks Sands' arms and DRILLS him with the Absolution!]

DT: Catapult - wait, blocked - YES!!! ABSOLUTION!!! ABSOLUTION!!! THIS COULD BE OVER!!!

MN: NO!!!

DT: BEAST COVERS!!!

ONE!!!


TWO!!



THREE!!!

 

[DBrunkGXW]

DT: NO!!! NO!!! IT'S NOT OVER!!! SANDS GOT THE SHOULDER UP!!!
MN: YES!!! YES!!!

[Beast doesn't seem too surprised. He kicks Sands a few times, then crosses the ring and begins to climb the cage. However, he stops and looks back at the recovering champion. Indecision wracks Beast's face for a moment.]

DT: Beast beginning to climb - wait a minute... he's stopping... I think he doesn't know whether to try to climb out or to continue the fight!

[As Sands comes to one knee, Beast smiles evilly and hops down from the cage.]

DT: HE'S GONNA CONTINUE!!! He almost tried to escape, but I think he wants to prove that he can pin Sands or make him submit!

MN: As IF!

DT: Don't doubt Beast's abilities - He's a tremendous athlete with a big heart!

[Drawing back his fist, Beast pulls Sands to his feet. However, Sands sees an opening and takes it. He jabs his thumb into Beast's eyes. Beast stumbles back hard, and Sands promptly DDTs him.]

DT: OH! Sands goes to the eyes and connects with the big DDT!

MN: Come on, Burgerman. Are you blind? Sands popped him in the NOSE.

DT: I know an eye shot when I see one!

[Holding his head, Beast stumbles off the mat, using the cage to support himself. This proves to be a mistake, as Sands grabs him from behind and smashes the big man's face off the steel. Beast keels backwards, but Sands grabs him in mid-fall and slams him onto his head with a brutal half-nelson suplex!]

DT: What a half-nelson suplex from the World Champion, as he's taken control of this match!

MN: Now Beast's bleeding too!

DT: Both men are busted open inside the cage!

[Sands looks down at Beast through the blood flowing down his face, smirking evilly. He balls his fist and pounds on the cuts in Beast's forehead, splashing blood all over. Beast eventually gets his hands up to block the punches, at which point Sands drops a knee onto Beast's forehead, then applies a grounded dragon sleeper.]

DT: Cage or no cage, Sands is going back to what got him to the dance - his mastery of submissions!

MN: He uses that grounded sleeper a lot, doesn't he?

DT: It's one of his favorite submissions, and right now it's cutting off the flow of blood to Beast's brain, wearing him down!

MN: Beast could pass out!

DT: Or not! Beast fighting to his feet!

[With a loud roar, Beast heaves himself off the mat as the crowd goes berserk. He starts throwing elbows into Sands' ribs. However, the Barrie native slugs Beast in the back of the head, then hooks him up and drops him with his patented cobra clutch bomb!]

DT: WAIT!!! THE SAND BLASTER!!! SANDS HITS THE BLASTER!!! IT COULD BE OVER!!!

ONE!!!


TWO!



THREEEEEEEE!!!

...NO!!! SOMEHOW, SOME WAY, BEAST KICKED OUT AT THE LAST SECOND!!!

MN: SLOW COUNT!!! SLOW COUNT!!!

DT: No way! Beast kicked out fair and square!

[A frustrated Sands punches Beast in the mouth, then turns and begins climbing up the side of the cage. Beast begins to slowly recover, but Sands ignores him.]

DT: Sands trying to take the easy way out! He's not going to risk letting Beast pin him!

MN: Easy way out?! Shut up! It's a legitimate way to win!

DT: If he were a real champion he'd get back down there and pin Beast himself!

[As Sands drags himself up onto the cage rim, Beast comes to his feet and grabs Sands by the foot. Sands manages to shake Beast loose, but the big man regains his footing. Looking skyward for a moment, Sands then looks down and dives towards Beast with a flying cross body!]

DT: SANDS WITH A CROSSBODY OFF THE TOP - NO!!! BEAST CATCHES HIM!!! BRINGS HIM OVER!!! FALLAWAY SLAM BY THE CHALLENGER!!!

MN: NO!!! THAT'S WRONG!!!

DT: BEAST WITH THE COVER!!! IT'S OVER!!!

ONE!!!

TWO!!!

...NOOOO!!! SANDS KICKED OUT!!!

MN: Whew! That was TOO close!

DT: Sands is definitely in trouble, as Beast's again in control of the match!

[Pulling a limp Sands off the mat, Beast stares intensely at him, then slams his fist into the face of his enemy. Sands falls backwards into the corner, where Beast clotheslines him. As Sands stumbles out into the center of the ring, Beast knees him in the gut, then sets him up for an Absolution!]

DT: ABSOLUTION COMING!!!

[Or not. Sands grabs Beast's legs and pulls them out from under him, flipping the big man over quickly. He then pounces and snaps Beast into the Sandman's Clutch!]

DT: WAIT!!! SANDMAN'S CLUTCH!!! THIS IS THE HOLD THAT DEFEATED BEAST LAST TIME!!!

MN: OHHHH YESSSSS, I LOVE IT!!! I LOVE IT SO MUCH!!!

DT: YOU CAN SEE THE PAIN IN BEAST'S EYES!!! HE'S FIGHTING TO BREAK THE HOLD!!!

MN: As IF! NOBODY escapes the Clutch!

DT: Beast fighting it! Rocking back and forth in the hold to TRY and shake Sands loose!

MN: With no success at all! MWEEHEEHEE!

DT: Beast's struggling - but his arm's beginning to go limp! The hold's cutting off the blood to his head! I think he's unconscious!

MN: There's the ref!

DT: The official raises Beast's arm - FALLS ONCE!!!

MN: Two more times, baby!

DT: Raising the arm again - TWO!

MN: THIS CLOSE!

DT: One more time - NO!!! BEAST KEEPS THE ARM UP!!! THE ADRENALINE IS FLOWING!!!

[His eyes burning with intensity, Beast surges to his feet with Sands on his shoulder. The big man spins rapidly and launches Sands to the mat with a modified airplane spin, sending the champion caroming into a corner. Beast quickly follows him in and stomps a mudhole in him, working over the cut on Sands' forehead with his foot!]

DT: BEAST IS ON FIRE!!! STOMPING AWAY AT SANDS!!! HE'S NOT RELENTING ONE BIT!!!

MN: BAD BEAST!!! BAD!!!

[Roughly hauling Sands out of the corner, Beast wheels him across the ring, bouncing him off the opposite turnbuckles. As Sands stumbles out backwards, Beast snaps him into an inverted facelock, hitting an inverted swinging neckbreaker!]

DT: TEST OF FAITH!!! BEAST HITS THE TEST OF FAITH!!! COVER!!

ONE!!!

TWO!!!

THREE - NO!!! SANDS KICKS OUT!!!

MN: YES!!!

DT: WAIT!!! Beast pulling Sands up again - SETTING HIM UP FOR THE ABSOLUTION!!!

[Again, it's not to be. Sands pushes against Beast's legs, backing him into a corner, then drives several shoulders into the bigger man's gut. Grabbing a stunned Beast by the head, Sands drags him out of the corner with a stiff Diamond Cutter!]

DT: DIAMOND CUTTER by Sands! Cover!

One!

TWO!

NO! Beast kicks out!

MN: MAN! Beast IS a beast! What's it gonna take to put him away?!

DT: Wait - SANDS REAPPLIES THE SANDMAN'S CLUTCH, AND HE'S FURIOUS!!!

MN: HE'S CHOKING BEAST OUT!!!

DT: BEAST IS FIGHTING IT!!!

MN: SANDS IS STILL CHOKING HIM THE HELL OUT!!!

DT: BEAST WILL NOT GIVE IN!!! HE ROLLS OVER!!! THE HOLD IS BROKEN AND SANDS IS GOING NUTS!!!

[As Beast breaks the hold, Sands shoots to his feet, screaming in rage. He pounds on the ropes furiously, then jumps on Beast and starts punching insanely at his face, his eyes blazing with frustration. The referee tries to restrain him, but Sands grabs him by the collar and screams at him.]

DT: Christian Sands has gone completely NUTS! He hasn't been able to put Beast down for the count, and it's driving him completely insane!

MN: Well, he wouldn't BE so mad if Beast would just stay down already!

[Pushing the ref out of the way, Sands starts stomping furiously at Beast, backing him into a corner. Unrelenting, Sands continues to stomp at him, then stoops, getting in Beast's face and screaming profanities at him.]

DT: Sands getting in Beast's face - AND BEAST SLAPS HIM ACROSS THE MOUTH!!!

MN: DQ!!! DQ!!!

[Stunned by the blow, Sands takes a few steps backwards, holding his jaw. With a little help from the ropes, Beast gets up and wipes blood from his eyes. With an insane yell, Sands lunges at Beast, but meets a kick to the gut. Stuffing his rival into a standing headscissors, Beast hooks Sands' arms and delivers the Absolution!]

DT: YES!!! ABSOLUTION!!! ABSOLUTION CONNECTS!!!

MN: NO!!!

DT: COVER!!!

ONE!!!



TWO!!!



THREEEEEEEE - NO! SHOULDER UP BY SANDS!!!

MN: YESSS!!!

DT: Wait! Beast pulling Sands up again - ANOTHER ABSOLUTION!!! SANDS GOT DRILLED!!! COVER!!!

ONE!!!



TWO!!!



THREEEEEE!!!

...NO!!! SANDS KICKED OUT AGAIN!!!

MN: JUST GIVE UP, BEAST!!!

DT: BEAST NOT GIVING UP!!! HE PULLS SANDS UP AGAIN!!! Points to the sky! This crowd is going nuts!

MN: NO!!!

DT: YES!!! A THIRD ABSOLUTION CONNECTS!!! COVER!!!

ONE!!!




TWO!!!





THREEEEEEEEEEE!!!

MN: NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

DT: YES!!! YES!!! IT'S OVER!!! BEAST WINS!!! BEAST IS THE NEW HEAVYWEIGHT!!! CHAMPION!!! OF THE WORLD!!!

[The cage door is unlocked, and the timekeeper hands the EPW World Heavyweight Championship into the ring, where referee Pat Jones presents it to Beast. The big man takes the title and cradles it to his face, holding it like a loved one.]

TONY FATORA: Here is your winner... and the NEEEEEEEEEEEEEW EMPIRE PRO WRESTLING HEAVYWEIGHT CHAM-PION OF THE WORRRLLLD... BEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSST!!!



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

DT: The dream has come to fruition! What an incredible night! Beast has done it! He overcame all the odds and FINALLY became World Champion right here tonight in the Georgia Dome!

MN: *crying*

[Confetti rains from the ceiling as the crowd blows the roof off the Georgia dome, thousands upon thousands chanting "BEAST BEAST BEAST" in unison. His face triumphant through the blood running down it, Beast holds the World Title high, letting forth a triumphant roar.]

DT: This place is going crazy! These people wanted to see Beast win the title, and by God they got their wish!

MN: I didn't! *sob*

[Slipping in through the now-open cage door, Lindsay Troy enters the cage, passing a wild-eyed Christian Sands at ringside. Beast and Troy exchange happy looks, then hug each other and exchange a passionate kiss.]

DT: And Beast getting the hero's reward here tonight - a kiss from the fair maiden!

[As Troy and Beast kiss, Sands reaches into the crowd and slides a chair into the cage. Neither Beast or Troy notice it, though it brushes Troy's foot.]

DT: Sands sliding a chair into the ring, but he's making no move to follow - either way, the celebration here in Atlanta is tumultuous! What a night!

[Beast and Troy step into the center of the ring. Holding the title in one hand, Beast raises it high, Troy raising his other hand.]

[And with a sudden motion, Lindsay Troy releases Beast's hand, grabs the chair, and smashes it over his head.]

DT: WHAT THE HELL?!?! LINDSAY TROY JUST DECKED BEAST WITH THE STEEL CHAIR!!!

MN: WHAT THE- YES!!! YES!!!

[The look on Beast's face is one of utter shock and betrayal as he crumples to the mat, his moment of glory stolen from him. Smirking, Troy lifts the chair and brings it down onto Beast twice more, then a third time across his arm!]

DT: DAMMIT, DAMMIT, DAMMIT!!! THAT DAMN JEZEBEL LINDSAY TROY JUST BETRAYED BEAST!!! WHAT THE HELL IS THE MEANING OF THIS?!?!

MN: I don't know, but Troy just got TEN TIMES HOTTER!!! NAUGHTY girl!

[After another chairshot to Beast's arm, Troy tosses the chair aside. A sultry smirk on her face, she nudges Beast's head with the toe of her boot, then steps out of the ring, leaving the prone form of the new World's Champion lying with his title.]

[Waiting for her at ringside is a still-bloody Christian Sands. The two exchange long looks... then clasp hands in a slow handshake.]

[The camera holds on the handshake between Troy and Sands as we fade to credits. Just before we fade to black, the shot shifts to Beast, staring dull-eyed at the roof of the arena, the World Title clutched in his hand and an expression of shock still etched across his face...]

 

[DBrunkGXW]

Updated 12/7/06