DT: And that's it for commercial breaks - welcome back! You know what time it is, Mike?
MN: MAIN EVENT TIME! WOO!
DT: We're just days removed from Unleashed, where Jonathan Marx will challenge for the Intercontinental Title and Christian Sands will defend his World Title. Tonight, they collide in what is sure to be a technical wrestling extravaganza!
MN: I don't even know who to root for! Sands is cool, but so is Marxie - except Marxie's been acting weird with his whole King Arthur spiel.
DT: I wouldn't say weird. He's just showing he has a heart - unlike our World Champion.
MN: Hey, Sands has a heart! It's just a black one.
DT: Let's head to the ring and see if Marx can make good on his promise to soften Sands up for Beast. Take it away, Fat Tony!
TONY FATORA: The following contest is a non-title match! It will be scheduled for one fall!
[The haunting strains of "Dark Machine" by Paul Oakenfold cue up, and the lights in the arena go out; the GlobalTron lights up with an image of Christian Sands gazing down from a distance, his face illuminated as if by car headlights through a window. The crowd boos thunderously, recognizing the music and the villain it's associated with. After the first fourteen seconds of the song, a red strobelight kicks in. Smoke machines begin blowing a drifting mist horizontally across the ramp as Christian Sands emerges, striding down the ramp with the mist curling about his feet. He vaults into the ring over the top rope and stretches his arms briefly before boosting himself up to a turnbuckle, seating himself there facing inward to await his opponent.]
TONY FATORA: Introducing first... He hails from Barrie, Ontario... He weighs in at two hundred and seventy pounds and is the reigning Empire Pro Wrestling Heavyweight Cham-pion of the World... Thissss isssssss CHRRRRRRRRISTIAAAAAAANNNN... SAAAAAAAAAAAAAANDSSSSSSSSS!!!
[Cue up: "Only Happen When It Rains" - Garbage. Surprisingly, the crowd roars in approval as Jonathan Marx stalks down the ramp, his eyes locked on the ring.]
TONY FATORA: And his opponent! He hails from Princeton, New Jersey! He weighs in at two hundred and fifteen pounds and was the 2003 FWI Magazine Rookie of the Year! He isssssss JONATHAAAAAAAAAAAN... MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARX!!!
[SFX: *DING* - Bell rings.]
DT: Listen to this crowd cheering Jonathan Marx! We're not used to this sort of ovation!
MN: They're idiots! They're cheering the lesser of two awesomes.
[Sands and Marx circle each other slowly for a moment. They lock up. Sands snaps on a tight headlock, then circles behind Marx to apply a hammerlock. Marx immediately snapmares the bigger man, but Sands swings his legs up and wraps them around Marx's body, scissoring him down to the canvas. Sands applies an armbar, but Marx rolls over to break it. The Princeton native grabs Sands' legs and tries for a Boston crab, but Sands uses his leg strength to shake Marx off.]
DT: What a display of chain wrestling from these two! Both Sands and Marx are accomplished athletes, wrestling a very Greco-Roman style with a lot of mixed martial arts overtones.
MN: Greco-Roman? What is this, history class?
[Coming to his feet, Sands shoots in and clips out Marx's legs, leaning forward to apply a shoulderlock. Marx rolls through and gets an armbar, trying for a crossface, but Sands grabs Marx's leg and rolls through again, ending up on his feet with an anklelock half-applied. Marx uses his free leg to trip Sands, boosting over him to apply a side headlock. Sands' power comes into play as he rises with a back suplex, but Marx flips out and lands behind him.]
DT: Back suplex attempt - No, Marx rolls through it!
[Immediately, Marx waistlocks Sands and takes him down with a hard German suplex. He shoots in and tries to apply a bow-and-arrow hold, but Sands grabs his head and drags him to the mat, slapping on an inverted dragon sleeper. Marx rolls out of it and applies a half nelson, which Sands powers out of quickly. The two come to their feet. Marx throws a dropkick, but Sands swats him down.]
DT: Sands' power and weight advantage is beginning to come into play, as he blocks the dropkick there!
MN: Not even the Emperor can win against an Agent.
[Pushing himself to his feet, Marx prepares to attack again. Sands beats him to the punch, charging in to deck Marx with a running knee lift. He picks up Marx bodily and throws him into a corner, chopping him several times. The chops resonate through the arena. As Marx thrashes in pain from the impact of the chops, Sands grabs him and belly-to-belly suplexes him out of the corner.]
DT: Huge belly-to-belly there by the champion, as he's taken control of this match.
MN: Poor Marxie. I bet he wishes he took the blue pill now.
DT: Enough Matrix analogies!
[With a thin smirk, Sands advances on a rising Marx. He delivers another chop, which drops Marx to a knee. From there Sands grabs Marx's arm and whips him into the ropes, spearing him on the rebound.]
DT: Spear by Sands! The cover -
One -
TWO -
Kickout by Marx!
MN: Man, if Sands ever leaves wrestling he could work as a linebacker with a spear like that!
[Holding his ribs, Marx reels on the canvas. Sands pulls him up and applies a front face lock, signaling for a vertical suplex. However, Marx rolls him up in a cradle pin.]
DT: WAIT, CRADLE BY MARX!
One!
TWO!
Kickout by Sands!
MN: Yike! That was quick!
[Both men roll to their feet. Promptly, Sands stuns Marx with a kick to the gut, then hooks him up and delivers the vertical suplex he was looking for a moment ago. As Marx recovers, Sands grabs him and lambastes him with a MONSTER spinebuster.]
DT: What a spinebuster by Sands!
MN: THE MAIN EVENT SPINEBUSTER!!! GRAWHAHAHA!!!
DT: What are you, an internet reporter?
MN: No. I actually get laid once in awhile.
DT: (laughing)
[Smirking, Sands grabs Marx by the hair, waiting for the smaller man to regain his footing. However, Marx opts instead to take Sands down with a double-leg clip. He immediately steps over and applies a Boston crab!]
DT: OH! BOSTON CRAB APPLIED BY MARX!!!
MN: Where'd THAT come from?!
DT: He's got the hold locked in, and Sands is in big trouble!
MN: He's trying to make it to the ropes!
DT: Sands gets ahold of the bottom rope! Marx breaks the hold!
[Or not. Releasing the crab, Marx grabs Sands by the ankle and drags him into the center of the ring, applying an anklelock.]
DT: Now the ANKLELOCK applied by the Gentleman!
MN: He's not letting up! He's like an animal!
DT: Marx said he'd put Sands through pain, and right now he's making good at that promise! Sands is SCREAMING in pain right now!
MN: Bad Marxie! BAD!
DT: Wait, Sands trying to fight out-
[Sands quickly rolls through the anklelock, causing Marx to lose his grip. Diving in, Sands immediately applies a Dragon sleeper to Marx, dropping him to the mat and applying a body scissors to enhance the move.]
DT: Full-body dragon sleeper by Sands, as he's regaining the momentum!
MN: Woot! Choke him out!
DT: Both of these men are submission experts, and as such they know exactly how to wear down parts of the body with holds! Right now this hold is putting strain on Marx's neck and cutting off the blood flow to his head!
MN: Marx is SO done.
DT: Marx trying to fight it... Grasping for the leg!
[With his free hand, Marx claws at one of Sands' legs. He gets ahold of it and wrenches it free, rolling over to shake Sands loose and reapply the anklelock!]
DT: Anklelock reapplied! Marx in control again!
MN: Gah! They keep trading the momentum!
[Sands, however, isn't about to be fooled twice. He rolls over and monkey-flips his way out of the anklelock. Both men come to their feet. Sands throws a clothesline, but Marx ducks and scoops Sands to the mat with a backslide. However, the champion rolls through and comes to his feet, kicking a recovering Marx in the gut. He then hurls the smaller man across the ring with a butterfly suplex!]
DT: Oh! Huge double underhook suplex by the champion!
MN: He just launched the Emperor into orbit!
[Holding his neck, Marx slowly pulls himself to a sitting position. That doesn't last long, as Sands hits the ropes behind him and rebounds with a rolling neck snap, taking Marx to the mat again. As Marx drops, Sands winces and adjusts his right kneepad.]
DT: Rolling neck snap by the champion, but I think the anklelocks applied by Marx are starting to affect him!
MN: Naaaaaah. He's just, uh, adjusting that pad to look cool.
DT: If you say so.
[Marx stumbles to his feet, his footing unsteady. Moving in, Sands slips in behind him and applies a half nelson, taking Marx over in a big suplex to drop him on his neck. From there, Sands sets his legs around Marx's neck and applies a grounded triangle choke!]
DT: TRIANGLE HOLD by Sands!
MN: Now THERE'S your mixed martial arts!
DT: Indeed, this is a mixed martial arts-style submission designed to cut off circulation to the head! Marx is in trouble!
MN: Sands is just wearing him down!
[Gritting his teeth, Marx pushes his body towards the edge of the ring, setting one foot on the bottom rope. The referee calls for the break, and Sands gives it to him. He pulls Marx up onto his shoulders in a fireman's carry position and goes to boost him off for his trademark over-the-knee neckbreaker, but Marx lands in a Matrix-esque bent-back position, his feet firmly on the canvas. Straightening, Marx delivers a back elbow to Sands' face, then takes him down with a hiptoss, shooting in to apply a leg lock!]
DT: Leg lock applied by Marx, as he's going right back to Sands' knee!
MN: Say what you will about Marxie, but he knows what he's doin'!
DT: Sands is trying to fight to the ropes, but he's right in the center of the ring! Every second he's in this hold does more damage to his leg!
MN: He's almost there!
DT: Got it!
[Reaching out, Sands grabs onto the bottom rope. Marx reluctantly breaks the hold, but makes up for it by dropping a knee across Sands' leg. He pulls Sands back into the center of the ring and kneedrops the leg again, then signals to the crowd before applying an intense STF!]
DT: MARXISM!!! MARXISM!!! THE MARXISM APPLIED TO THE CHAMPION!!!
MN: NO!!!
DT: SANDS IS SCREAMING IN PAIN HERE!!! IT COULD BE OVER!!!
MN: He's fighting it!
DT: Marx wrenching in the hold! He's not letting go!
MN: C'mon! Get out of it!
[Sands manages to resist the hold for a moment. Finally he rolls through it, breaking it up. As he comes out on top of Marx, he hooks in the cobra clutch crossface!]
DT: SANDMAN'S CLUTCH!!! THAT DEADLY SUBMISSION LOCKED IN!!!
MN: MARX IS SO DONE!!! LISTEN TO HIM SCREAM!!!
DT: This could be all over here!
MN: Of COURSE it is! This hold beat Beast - and Beast's got the RAAHR!
DT: Marx is trying to fight to the ropes!
MN: He'll never make it!
DT: Almost there - OH!
[Just as Marx grabs for the rope, Sands releases the hold just long enough to boost over Marx, trapping the reaching arm between his legs and reapplying the Clutch to the neck and the other arm!]
DT: CLUTCH REAPPLIED! MARX IS TRAPPED!!!
MN: He's all the way across the ring! He's gotta crawl a good twenty feet to get to the ropes!
DT: He's fighting-
[After a moment of struggling, Marx manages to roll through the Clutch. He jockeys for position and reapplies the Marxism!]
DT: MARXISM REAPPLIED!!! WHAT A REVERSAL BY JONATHAN MARX!!!
MN: WHAAAAAT!!! NO WAY!!!!
DT: SANDS' HAND IS COMING UP!!! HE'S GOING TO TAP OUT!!!
MN: NO!!!
DT: ...NO!!! HE'S BITING HIS OWN HAND TO KEEP FROM TAPPING OUT!!!
MN: YES!!!
DT: SANDS IS TRYING TO FIGHT TO THE ROPES!!!
MN: He's fighting it!
DT: The champion's fighting, but Marx has him locked up good and tight!
[Sands lets out a loud yell as he rolls through the hold again, applying the Sandman's Clutch to Marx!]
DT: WAIT!!!! SANDMAN'S CLUTCH AGAIN!!!
MN: CRIKEY!!! IT'S REVERSAL CITY!!!
DT: MARX IS IN A WORLD OF PAIN, AND HE'S RIGHT IN THE CENTER OF THE RING!!!
MN: His hand's coming up!
DT: Is he going to tap?!
MN: No! He's not tapping!
DT: Marx trying to push himself out of the hold!
MN: He's trying to fight it -
DT: HE'S TAPPING!!! HE'S TAPPING!!! MARX TAPS OUT TO THE SANDMAN'S CLUTCH!!!
[SFX: *DING* - Bell rings.]
TONY FATORA: Here is your winner... CHRRRRRRRRRISTIAAAAAAAAAAANNNNN... SAAAAAAAAAANDSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!
DT: What a close match for Jonathan Marx, as he was inches away from making the World's Champion tap out - but in the end, Sands secures the victory with the Sandman's Clutch!
MN: That was close! I thought Marx had him!
DT: So did I. Regardless of the result, Marx put forth a great showing and has absolutely nothing to be ashamed of as far as I'm concerned.
MN: But the question is - can Sands make Beast tap out at Unleashed?
DT: That question and more will be answered in Atlanta, when Unleashed airs LIVE on Pay-Per-View from the Georgia Dome! And with that, we're out of time! This has been Aggression! Goodnight, everybody!
[Fade to credits, then to black.]