Richard Farnswirth took the upperhand early as Max was outwrestled by the experienced singles grappler. While Max looked to ground Farnswirth with submission wrestling, Farnswirth was able to pull free and throw Max off balance with a variety of suplexes. Max however was able to gain the upper hand, hitting Farnswirth with a backdrop driver in the middle of the ring. Unfortunately for Max, with Slambo the Clown at ringside and Max gloating to him over his imminent expected victory, he didn’t see Chip Friendly slip into the ring from the crowd and slip something to Farnswirth as he lay on the mat. As Max went to cover, Farnswirth reached up and clocked him in the face with a foreign object, and then rolled him up for the three count.
WINNER: Richard Farnswirth
DT: The next contest is scheduled for one fall. These two men know each other very well… in fact, they met as recently as Aggression twenty-three were we saw Frankie Scott uncharacteristically nail the Sergeant with brass knuckles for the victory.
MN: Or so you say. Ladies and Gentlemen, I personally saw this match with my own two eyes, and I didn’t see the same thing as my esteemed colleague. I saw a punch that knocked the Sergeant silly.
DM: Sure you did. No matter what you saw, the fact of the matter is these two have something to prove to the other, and tonight is the night that all things become resolved.
DT: Both men are already in the ring, circling each other. They meet in the center, collar-and-elbow tie up sees the Sarge with an early advantage, muscling Scott to the turnbuckle. The referee calls for the break… and, as usual, the Sarge willingly obeys.
DM: Scott has his arms up, protecting his face, almost as if he’s expecting the Sergeant to nail him with a closed fist or something.
MN: Well, if he does… my money is on Scott taking the punch like a champ. He won’t be out cold like Sarge was, that’s for sure!
DT: They meet in the center of the ring again, the Sarge with a headlock, Frankie Scott shoots him off to the ropes, the Sarge returns, knocks Scott down on the mat. The Sarge takes off in the other direction, bounces off the ropes; Scott turns over on his stomach… Sarge leaps over… bounces off the other side of the ropes; they meet in the center… Dropkick by Frankie Scott!
DM: Scott is patting himself on the back, as he should. The elevation on that dropkick was indescribable… that’s why I always suggest you come to see one of Empire Pro’s shows live. There’s nothing like it!
DT: Frankie Scott closes in; raising the Sarge by his head… the Sarge leaps up on his feet catching Scott off guard… Samoa Drop! The Sarge drops down for the cover… One… Two… KICKOUT!
MN: Scott’s not done, not by a long shot. Unlike old glass jaw over there, he’s a real competitor.
DM: Trust me, there is nothing fake about the Sergeant as you will see as this match progresses.
MN: *yawn* Riiiiiight.
DT: The Sarge raises Scott up, sends him to the ropes, Scott bounces off, CLOTHESLINE—NO! Scott hung on to the ropes and slid outside of the ring! Very smart of him!
DM: Was it? Look at the Sergeant, he’s bouncing off the ropes on the other side, leaps through the top and middle rope and lands right on Frankie Scott!
DT: The Sarge is pounding away… as the referee begins his count. The crowd is really into this one! The Sergeant is up on his feet, glancing around, as all the flashbulbs pop. He’s really feeding off of this live audience!
DM: The Sarge lifts Scott up, OUCH! Low blow by Frankie Scott! Scott just nailed the Sergeant in the testicles with a vicious kick!
MN: The Sarge is going to NEED all these people if he hopes to survive tonight. Frankie Scott has truly stepped his game up and he’s here to win.
DT: The referee’s count is up to eight, as Scott slides the Sarge inside of the ring, beating the officials count. Scott enters methodically focusing on his prey. He raises the Sarge up… DDT CONNECTS! ONE! TWO! THR—KICKOUT!
DM: Frankie Scott is feeling like the end is near with that one. He tried to break the Sergeant’s neck with that spiked DDT.
DT: Scott headed for the top rope. He scales to the top easily without any hesitation. He leaps off! Line drive elbow connects!
DM: Scott’s not going for the cover, though. His goal is to dish out as much pain as possible, I’m assuming.
MN: It’s definitely not unjustified. I’ll tell you that!
DT: Kick to the gut, has the Sergeant doubled over. Frankie Scott bolts to the ropes, meets his opponent in the center of the ring… SWINGING NECK BREAKER! OUCH! THE AUDIENCE GRIMACED WITH THAT ONE!
DM: Scott has this weird look in his eye. One I’ve never seen before. He’s really trying to finish this thing with the Sergeant tonight!
DT: Scott raises the Sarge up… puts him in position… RUDE AWAKENING! Now he drops down for the cover… One, Two, THREE—KICKOUT BY THE SARGE!
DM: Frankie Scott is shocked! He’s mumbling something to himself as he raises the Sarge to his feet… THE SERGEANT COUNTERS WITH A SMALL PACKAGE! ONE! TWO!! THREE!! NOOOOOOOO! KICKOUT BY FRANKIE SCOTT!
DT: Scott is on his feet… he nails the Sergeant with several violent kicks to the back of the head. He glances over at the turnbuckle… wait a second… Scott heads over to the turnbuckle, and tries to untie the padding!
MN: Now we’re talking. Let’s get this thing over with already.
DT: The official steps between Scott, warning him of a disqualification. This gives the Sergeant time to heal… he’s on his feet… taps Scott on the shoulder… THE SERGEANT WAILS AWAY AT HIS OPPONENT!
MN: And, Scott, as I predicted… is still on his feet!
DM: Not anymore! Scott bounces back up quickly… POWERSLAM BY THE SERGEANT! ONE … TWO … SHOULDER UP!
DT: The Sergeant is pumped! He raises Frankie Scott up to his level and nails him with two more clenched fists before hooking him from behind. Scott is using all of his weight to prevent him from lifting but finally the Sarge is able to do so… GERMAN SUPLEX!
DM: Oh my God! He’s not done!! He’s hanging on… I know what he’s about to do… ANOTHER GERMAN SUPLEX!
DT: Both men are exhausted… The Sergeant is spent… but, he’s still hanging on for dear life, slowly making his way to his feet with Scott still clenched. Scott, on the other hand is looking for… something… he’s digging in his tights… pulls out… what is that?!? The SERGEANT WITH A THIRD GERMAN SUPLEX IN MIND HAS SCOTT IN THE AIR… FRANKIE CONNECTS WITH A CLOSED FIST WITH SOMETHING ON IT! BOTH MEN COLLAPSE TO THE MAT!
DM: Scott nails the Sergeant with brass knuckles for the second time, but somehow, the Sarge was still able to connect with that third German Suplex.
MN: What an idiot… he executes the move, and is knocked out cold. Shouldn’t it be the other way around?
DT: Scott is the first to move… he’s inching toward the Sergeants lifeless body. He drapes his arm over the Sergeant’s body… the referee doesn’t see the brass knuckles lying in the corner of the ring under the turnbuckle. He drops down for the cover! ONE! TWO!!! THREEEEE!!! NOOOOOOOOO WAAAAAAAAAAAY! NOT YET FRANKIE SCOTT! NOT YET!
DM: Scott can’t believe it… it didn’t work this time around! He’s furious! The referee is checking on the Sergeant who appears to be bleeding a little as a result of the punch with the brass knuckles. Seeing this… Scott goes over to that same turnbuckle he partially untied earlier and removes the padding!
DT: Folks, I think the end is near. Frankie Scott has the Sergeant up on his feet… he’s preparing to send him chest first into that unprotected turnbuckle. He whips him, NO! THE SARGE REVERSES! FRANKIE SCOTT GOES CHEST FIRST INTO THAT EXPOSED TURNBUCKLE! The Sarge creeps up behind him… INVERTED DDT! He covers… ONE! TWO! THREE! THE SARGE HAS—WAIT A MINUTE! THE REFEREE HAS SIGNALLED THAT THE COUNT WAS ONLY TWO! Scott got his shoulder up at the VERY last minute!
MN: Of course he did. Frankie Scott… THIS Frankie Scott is a winner.
DM: The Sarge is in search of answers. Look at the expression on his face. It’s almost as if he’s fresh out of ideas.
DT: Looking around… the Sarge notices the brass knuckles underneath the turnbuckle! He’s looking around at the audience… almost… almost if he’s asking PERMISSION?!? The crowd is cheering him on… The referee is checking on Scott on the other side of the ring, not paying attention. The Sarge picks up the brass knuckles and places them on his fist!
DM: What goes around…
DT: Frankie Scott is just now getting up on his feet. He’s a little wobbly, but ready to fight. The Sergeant lands a punch with his ‘free’ hand. Scott retaliates with a fist of his own. They trade in the center of the ring, throwing haymakers wildly… as the Sergeant swings with the hand with the brass knuckles cracking Frankie Scott directly into the jaw!
DM: Frankie Scott drops like a sack of hay!
DT: The Sergeant drops down for the cover… Scott is motionless… The referee drops down for the count… Sarge tosses the brass knuckles outside of the ring by the ref’s blind spot. ONE! TWO! THREE!!!!!
MN: CHEATER! The Sergeant is a blatant cheater!
DM: Karma is a you-know-what… and, Scott, on this night, deserved everything he received.
DT: And we have to take one more commercial break. Battle Royale... NEXT!
[Cue up a commercial for Mr. Plow. That name again? Mr. Plow.]