DM: Some of tonight's big matches will determine the semi-finalists in the 2007 King of the Cage tournament -- winner gets a shot at the most coveted title in the sport right now, the EPW World Championship at Russian Roulette. The truth of the matter is, it could be any ONE of the remaining eight participants we'll see in action tonight--

MN: Not necessarily "any", Dean. I can think of one guy in this tournament who stands NO chance of advancing tonight ... hell, it's a miracle he survived his first round match, let alone got to the next round!

DT: Ice Tre put on quite a show a few weeks ago when fate intervened, I guess you could say, and he walked out of Aggression as the victor in a VERY brutal cage match against "Yours Truly" Adam Benjamin.

MN: He got his ass kicked, Dave! Say it!

DT: He certainly did not come across as a polished in-ring performer.

MN: That's sugar coating it.

DT: Actually, I'm being told that Kenny Lombardo is backstage right now, and has got Ice Tre cornered for a moment. We're going to try to get a word with the self-proclaimed King of the Streets, Ice Tre. He's going up against a man tonight in "Triple X" Sean Stevens, whom Tre has quickly gotten to know quite well, given their run-ins since Tre's debut. It'll be interesting to hear his thoughts going into this contest.

MN: You sure about that?

DT: Let's go to Kenny Lombardo, backstage.

[CUTTO: Backstage. Anxiously awaiting his cue, Kenny Lombardo holds his earpiece in with his index finger. He turns to the camera with a slight smile, gesturing to the lockerroom door behind him. The nameplate reads "T R E".]

KL: Thanks, Dave. I just caught Tre arriving here at the Wells Fargo Center; let's see if we can't get a quick word with him.

[He knocks at the door and waits just a moment. It suddenly swings open and There He Be.]

ICE TRE: S'appnin', baby? What it IS, 'bardo?

[The fans pop at Tre's trademark line. Wearing nothing but an awkwardly large chain around his pasty-white neck, an equally massive four-finger ring on his right hand, a pair of baggy jeans, and bulky boots Ice Tre was ready for WAR.]

ICE TRE: Ready to STOMP somebody, yo! Just how I do!

[Tre nods his head proudly as he stepped into the hallway.]

KL: Ice Tre, ever since your debut here in EPW at Wrestleverse II you have been crossing paths with the man who would be your opponent later on tonight. In the last week your on-air promo's for this event have really set Sean Stevens off. You apparently, likely unwittingly, made things very personal by making reference to hard, sad times in Triple X's personal life--

ICE TRE: Step off, Lenny'bardo! Triple got all bent 'cause I brought up his late friend, Lucky. He thinks I was raggin' on him -- and I wasn't. I lost plently of peoplez, plenty of soldiers in the game and in life. He be showin' his weakness by makin' threats fueled by emotion, an' ****. Tonight, Ice Tre gon' capitalize on that and ride it to victory once more. I'mma dominate Sean Stevenz tonight just like I dominated Adam Benjamin in round one, yo. Ice Tre on the RISE!

[Tre thrusts his hand at the camera, violently brandishing his hideous four finger ring.]

KL: Explain to the world again ... why did you, why WOULD you initially target an athlete as accomplished and proficient as "Triple X" Sean Stevens?

ICE TRE: You just said it, B. 'Cause you and the world - an' especially he, HIMSELF - think that he's just 'bout the "Greatest Wrestler on the Planet". And, well ... I think he's NOTHIN'. I think he's a BUSTA. I think he's...

[CUTTO: "Triple X" Sean Stevens, in a sleeveless, grey "Planet Earth's Champion™" t-shirt, black tights, and dark sunglasses…. standing DIRECTLY behind Ice Tre.]

KL: I think he's standing right here, Tre.

[Tre turns his head, finding a surprise there waiting. Always quick on his toes, however, Tre was DEFINITELY cool about the situation about to transpire.]

ICE TRE: What's UP, Stevenz? You want beef NOW, son? Can't wait to settle our bid'niss in the ring, in the cage?

[Trip removed his sunglasses, and moved in closer, so that he was directly in Ice Tre's face. Tre didn't budge, emotions unreadable behind his OWN pair of shades.]

STEVENS: Listen to me, and listen carefully, little boy. I'm done trying to figure out who you are, and just who in the hell it is you're trying to be. I don't give a flying **** if your words were misconstrued, or if you didn't know or understand the magnitude of the **** that was coming out of your mouth when you said it. All I care about is your lack of respect for me, my family, and friends and the fact that it was said, and Ice Tre … if you say it again…

[Trip patted Tre on the cheek.]

STEVENS: ….Kid, I'm going to beat your ass so bad your MOTHER won't recognize you. And, that's a promise.

[The two men stood there for a moment, sizing each other up. After a couple of tense seconds, Trip – apparently feeling like the situation would go no further – turned his back on Tre and began to walk away.]

KL: OH MY!

[Ice Tre grabs Triple X's shoulder and jerks him around just as he unloads a stiff right hook across Stevens jaw.]

DT: Tre just laid Stevens out! He just blasted him with that right hand ... with that huge ring on his hand! Acting almost like BRASS KNUCKLES!

[Tre quickly grabbed his duffel bag from his lockerroom and confidently made an exit, his voice echoing through the arena halls.]

ICE TRE: See you later, Triple! Hah HA!

[Laying in a heap on the floor, hands clutching his head, Sean Stevens is in serious pain. There is no blood but his face is twisted in a unique contortion. A few production crewmen attend to him anxiously, one calling out for real help.]

MN: Wow! Tre just laid Triple X out AGAIN! And THAT one looked like it really hurt! That ring on Ice Tre's hand connected on target and I gotta tell ya; the way he fell, the way Stevens head hit that concrete ... I can't believe he's still conscious!

DM: Here come the EMT's!

DT: I can not believe what we have just witnessed! I certainly hope that Sean Stevens is alright, fans ... because this match NEEDS to happen!!

DT: Well folks, we're trying to get an update on Sean Stevens condition backstage, but reports are slow in coming. Word has it that Stevens is on his way to the hospital, so it certainly throws his liklihood of competition here tonight into doubt.

[SFX: Ring bell x 3]

TONY FATORA: Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall, with no time limit. Introducing first...

[The lights go completely out, only to be replaced with red lighting illuminating the arena, and black lights all over the stage and entrance.]

TF: Hailing from Phoenix, Arizona, she stands six feet, four inches tall, and weighs in at one-hundred-and-eighty-five pounds...

[CUE UP: "Gently" by Slipknot.]

[The EmpireTron ques up a nicely prepared video montage of Nakita Dahaka executing numerous high flying innovative moves on several known and unknown oponants that flow in sync with the intro and song. A thick cold fog rolls into the arena from the stage and down the ramp. A lone spotlight hovers directly over one single spot on the stage floor. A ring of fire surrounds the trapdoor, which then opens and raises up onto the stage Nakita Dahaka along side her manager Delilah Demonik. Nakita cracks her knuckles as she mentally prepares to walk down the ramp toward the ring keeping full focus on the tasks at hand. The lone spotlight dangles directly over her head and follows her wherever she goes.

TF: Accompanied by her manager, the lovely Delilah Demonik... she is... NAKIIIIIIITAAAAAAAA DA-HAAAAAAKAAAAAAAAA!

MN: Mmmm.... sexy, evil females.

Nakita and Delilah leave the stage and walk down the aisle toward the ring ignoring whatever cheers and jeers coming from the arena crowd. Nakita arrives at ringside, walks up the ringsteps, across the ring apron, then steps between the ropes into the ring, taking a knee in the center of the ring. The spotlight hovers directly over her head coming to a complete stop. Delilah slides off Nakita's leather trenchcoat and exits the ring to coach her pupil on from ringside. The main arena lights come back on as her theme song fades out.

MN: I'm tellin' ya right now, that I would bury my-

DT: FAMILY SHOW!!

DM: He'll never stop.

TF: And, her opponent...

[CUE UP: "End All" by Anathema.]

TF: Fighting out of Manchester, England, he stands six feet, one inch tall, and weighs in at two-hundred and four pounds, he is The Inferno... he is... ARRRRRRRRSONNNNNNNN ZAAAAAAAANDERRRRRRRS!!

[A pyro blast goes off around the stage as Zanders comes through the curtain and begins walking down the ramp. He focuses on Dahaka, and slides into the ring, never taking his eyes off of her.]

DT: Look at the focus on the face of Arson Zanders. He's staring a hole through Dahaka!

MN: He's looking at her boobies. THOSE ARE MY BOOBIES!

DM: Careful Neels... I'm sure Frankie Scott is out there somewhere watching, so you don't want to get on his bad side, do you?

MN: Why the hell should I care?

DT: Well, he and Delilah were somewhat.... friendly... in recent times.

DM: You've got competition, Neely.

MN: Hmmph.

[SFX: Ring bell!]

DT: Alright, we're under way! Lock up coming up... but Dahaka has other ideas! Foot to the twig and berries, and Zanders is down!

DM: Wisely using the Great Equalizer as the Great Advantage Getter!

DT: Dahaka's layig the boots into Zanders now... there's a pick up, and a whip to the ropes... high knee, and Zanders is down again! Cover only gets a one count, and the Dark Phenom once again pulls Zanders to his feet. Whip to the ropes, no, short arm clothesline, but Zanders ducks! A spinning backfist stuns Dahaka, and Zanders follows that up nicely with a big headbutt!

MN: Look Ma, no hands!

DT: That headbutt rocks Dahaka, but she doesn't go down!

MN: I'd love to test that theory!

DT: Zanders comes in with a running knee, right to Dahaka's chin and she hits the canvas hard! Knee drop across the chest of Dahaka, and there's another! Zanders goes for a cover!

1...

2...

Kickout!

DT: Zanders pulls Dahaka to her feet, and there's a shot to the guts! A second, followed by a big open hand uppercut strike! Dahaka is reeling! Zanders grabs her, and there's a snap suplex! Zanders rolls through, still controlling Dahaka, and he hits a second snap suplex! There's a pin!

1...

2...

Kickout!

DT: Zanders gets Dahaka back up to her feet, but only long enough to wipe out Dahaka with an axe kick! There's another cover!

1...

2...

Kickout!

DM: Zanders is really showing off his striking ability so far in this one. Any one of these shots could be enough to win the match!

DT: Zanders, reaching down to pull Dahaka up... wait! Small package by Dahaka!

1...

2...

Kickout!

DT: Both competitors are up! There's a right hand from Zanders, but Dahaka ducks.... SWINGING neckbreaker and Zanders is down! A couple stomps are followed by a pick up and whip to the corner... TORNADO DDT!!! Dahaka covers!

1...

2...

Kickout!

DT: Dahaka just can't put Zanders away! What's Dahaka up to now? She's climbing the turnbuckles.... MOONSAULT, but NO WAY HO-SAY! Zanders gets the knees up, and Dahaka's ribs are Montreal steak spice! Zanders gets all over Dahaka, hitting a flurry of maneuvers, assaulting her with a couple elbows, thich kicks, and a leg drop across the throat! As he gets to his feet, Dahaka starts to rise as well.... SHINING WIZARD and Dahaka's down! Zanders covers!

1...

2...

MN: Yes! Delilah put Dahaka's foot on the rope, and the official stopped his count!
The crowd fills the arena with boos, as the official checks on Delilah, but she backs off with her hands up, saying she did nothing!

MN: You tell him, Delilah!

DT: Back in the ring, Zanders pulls Dahaka up, and DRIVES a right hand into her face! Dahaka staggers away, and Zanders charges after her... JUMPING FRONT KICK TO THE FACE, and Dahaka could be out!

MN: But he's not covering her! What's he doing?

DM: Zanders is just making sure, Neels! Look at this!

DT: ROUNDHOUSE SHINING CRESCENT!!!

MN: And here comes Delilah! You get 'em sweetie!

DT: KICK TO THE FACE AND DELILAH BREAKS UP THE COUNT!

[SFX: Ring bell!]

DM: That was, um, BLATANT.

TF: Ladies and gentlemen, the result of this match as a result of a disqualification.... your winner... ARRRRSOOONNNNNNNNNNNN ZAAAAAAAANNDEERRRRRRRRRRRSSSS!!!

DT: Zanders is back up, and Delilah goes to drift him one, but Zanders stops her with an elbow to the face and a hip toss that sends Delilah across the ring and out under the bottom rope to the cheers of the crowd!

MN: And here comes Dahaka! Right hand! Another!

DM: Nice block from Zanders!

DT: A right from Zanders! A second! A third! Dahaka's back to the ropes! CLOTHESLINE FROM ZANDERS AND THERE GOES DAHAKA!

"End All" by Anathema blares through the arena, and Zanders gets a nice pop from the crowd!

DT: Zanders gets the DQ win over Dahaka, although he did have the upper hand most of the match! We'll be back right after this!

"No, not really," Karl laughed as he reached into the boot of his BMW. Quickly, he slung his bag over his shoulder, before reaching in and pulling out a second. Slamming the boot closed, he walked around to the passenger-side door. He thought as he did this how funny it usually was when he gave people a lift to the arena - they would instinctively go over to the opposite side from the passenger's door; not to drive, but because Karl had brought the car over from the UK, so the steering wheel was on the wrong side for people used to American vehicles. "Here you go."

Foxx gave one last glance at the - to her - awkwardly arranged vehicle. Foreign cars weren't really all that impressive to her. Having the seat on the wrong damn side didn't really help that belief.

She absentmindedly took her bag before realizing what just happened. "...Thanks." She smiles outwardly and curses herself in her head. Crap! She'd dawdled too long. The least she could have done was meet him halfway. Too late now; subject change! "I don't see why ya can't just do like the natives and rent or buy a car for the States. Instead ya gotta ship over this blasted contraption." Alright, maybe not the best subject change...

"And change gears the wrong way?" he smiled. "I'm too used to having the gear stick down and to the left. Besides," he said, patting the bonnet, "this car is a lot more economical than an American model.

"How do you feel about the match tonight?" He decided to change the subject, again.

"Excited... nervous. My title shots seem to be getting rougher for every time I try. How Mr. Hart managed to fall in as the holder I'll never know. He should be competing for your title. Instead he's stuck fighting up and comers and people like me who can't win a match when it really counts. I'd feel sorry for him if he weren't such a jerk."

"I don't know, the roster here is incredibly tough," Karl shrugged. "In most companies half of the roster would be fighting for the main title. But don't be so nervous, it took me over two years to win a title, and that's with fighting for two World titles, an Intercontinental title and taking part in too many tounaments." He thought back through each of those moments - against Benjamin, Maelstrom, in the Natural Selections, losing to Christian Sands in the tournament to decide the first World Champion in EPW - some writers were shocked he'd never held the main title himself. "Do you think you can win?"

Foxx has to think for a second before answering. "Honestly, I don't know. It's gonna be touch and go...a lot. I think I can at least make a decent running if I manage to keep my mind from drifting this time. I say it's a toss up."

"And uh... I'm not competing for a world or intercontinental, hun. If the television title hadn't been instated I can only imagine how bottom of the barrel I'd be. That and my two year mark is coming up fast. I can only hope the oodles of training I've done recently came out to some small improvement. I guess I'll find out..." She takes a deep, thoughtful breath. Things would be much easier if she wasn't trying to prove so much to herself.

You've got wins over Karla Starr, Cameron Cruise, and Troy Douglas. The longest title holder in the business today, a former tag team and Intercontinental Champion, and former number one contender to the World Title - hell, I know how tough Douglas is, he's beaten me three times," Karl laughed at the reality - suffice to say, Foxx wasn't all that far off where he himself had been. He just had the luck early on of wrestling for World Titles in young companies, and she'd come into Empire Pro after it had been established a while.

She had to laugh a bit. "Luck, luck and luck. I tried three times to shorten Ms. Starr's reign and failed on all three. Mr. Cruise was obviously not at the top of his game at the time and I was lucky having ultra-frosted Ninja K weaken up Mr. Douglas for an easy pin. I don't really take any credit for those wins."

"Luck is a very large part of this business," Karl said, stopping her with a light touch to the back of her elbow. "In my first match, the referee didn't see Dalton's foot on the bottom rope. I then beat Sands in my second match. I've drawn two matches during pinfalls, where an extra few seconds would have given me the win - just ask Lindsay about one of them. The fact is you have those wins, and if it was just pure luck, you wouldn't have at least two of them. You make your own luck in this business by not making mistakes, and you don't make that many."

Foxx turned to face him with a crooked smile, holding her bag behind her back with both hands. "Such flattery! I've made my share of mistakes and you know it. If I was as good as you claim I am, than I wouldn't have so many losses under my belt. I got a long way ta go before I could even put up a decent challenge for guys like you. That's not flattery. That's the truth."

Karl started walking again, not turning to her, but smiling all the same. "Then why have you been given another title shot? The name of the title isn't important, it's the pride that surrounds it." He noticed a few magazine writers he recognised standing near the entrance and slowed his pace.

"Simple. I'm right on the borderline of reaching the title. And you of all people should know that I'm not in this for pride..." Foxx hadn't noticed and just kept walking till she realized she'd gotten a bit ahead and turned around, walking backwards.

Karl smiled, noticing one of the reporters getting a camera ready. "A new headline," he thought to himself. "Well," he said out loud, quickening his pace to catch up, "after all the work you've done, I think you'll pull it off tonight. And if you don't," he put his hand lightly on her shoulder, turning her so they could both walk forward, "then I'll train with you until you're ready."

"Ha!" Foxx grinned happily. "It's about time you offered!"

Karl laughed, putting his arm across her shoulders. The reporters only blinked as they passed.

"Only if you lose though - if you win, you don't need my help, do you?"