DT: This next contest should be... interesting.
MN: "Interesting" isn't the word, Dave. It's going to be a spectacle!
DT: Rob Franklin, coming off a victory over Sanket Desai at our LAST Aggression, will be taking on--
[The lights abruptly dim just as a series of horns beg blaring, blue and gold lights sweep across the arena before settling on the entrance way, glitter and confetti wafting majestically from the ceiling. The curtain parts and a series of Medieval-style musicians, horns in hand, faces red and sweating from their performance, stream towards the ring.]
DT: What in the world?!?
[Signalling the arrival of someone truly important...]
MN: You've gotta be kidding me!
[Someone GREAT...]
DT: I don't believe what I'm seeing.
[The fans erupt at the sight of Ice Tre. On horseback. Arms out, spread, as if to ask: "What?!?", Ice Tre was carried to the ring by a regal, stark white horse. Like the royalty on his back, this horse ALSO had a platinum, gem-encrusted grill in place on his giant horse-teeth.]
DT: Ice Tre is in the building!
[The [stolen] King of the Cage crown resting atop his head, cock-eyed of course, Ice Tre is ushered to the ring and awkwardly assisted off the horse by a massive black man in a court jester costume who'd accompanied the musicians to ringside. Nearly tripping as he stepped between the ropes, Ice Tre regained his footing and looked to his royal subjects with a lop-sided grin. From his oversized, bedazzled ringrobe, Ice Tre produced a microphone.]
ICE TRE: Yeh, yeh, yeh! Las Vegas, baby! S'APPNIN'?!?!?
[Massive crowd pop. Tre simply nods his head, crown tipping and bobbling with every motion.]
ICE TRE: The King is DEAD! Long Live the K'ANG!
[Another obnoxious pop that Tre doesn't give a chance to breathe--]
ICE TRE: Say what you wanna say! Ice Tre! Ride or DIE, s'how I DO! No stoppin', body droppin', bootz knockin', money CLOCKIN'! The world said I couldn't do it. That NO ONE could. They was WRONG, G. The office wants to IGNORIFY a brother's efforts! Bury a player! They wants to FORGET that I, Ice Tre, the K'ANG of the STREETZ, defeated ... their precious CHAMPION.
[This time? Tre soaks in the pop. He raises one fist high, confidence flowing from him like cheap champagne.]
ICE TRE: That's REAL. Ice Tre BEAT Sean Stevens and you know what? Ice Tre could do it again. Tonight. Tomorrow. Next week. Next month. Ain't No Thang. Matter of FACT? I know I gotsta have a match wit' Bobby Francis himself, Rob Franklin, in a hot second. But right about NOW?
[His grin stretches.]
ICE TRE: Right about now I wanna call TRIPLE X OUT here ... see him KNEEL before the K'ang of the Cage. I wanna call out Sean Stevens, n'front da EARTF, and hear himADMIT that Ice Tre was, is, always WILL BE the better man. The superior athelete. I want that PUNK on his knees lettin' the world know who the REAL K'ang is 'round this piece.
[A buzz flows through the arena, the atmosphere tenses. Tre looks back to the curtain, one foot resting on the bottom rope.]
ICE TRE: What you SAY, Stevens? Where You AT?!?
DT: This could be disasterous for Ice Tre! Here he is, hot off the heels of, arguably, the biggest win -- dubious or otherwise -- of his young career ... and he's calling out the man he STOLE his big win from? Forget that Sean Stevens has proven himself to be one of the most vindictive and DANGEROUS wrestlers in the industry today. Forget that these two men have been at odds with eachother for over a year. For Ice Tre ... this is just a STUPID move.
MN: You nailed it, Thomas. Suicide.
ICE TRE: We all waitin', Triple! Where You AT, BUSTER!?!?! Break Yo'Self!!!
DT: ...where is Stevens?
MN: Maybe he's playing blackjack?
DT: I'm being serious! One would think he'd want nothing more than to ANSWER Ice Tre's ... outlandishness!
[The fans boo when Tre waves his hands dismissively towards the entranceway. He smirks.]
ICE TRE: I think, Stevens. By sayin' nothin' ... you just said a WHOLE lot. With THAT being said ... Robby Franks!!! Bring your sorry ass, drag you and your worthless, stagnantified career down to this ring so that, as his FIRST ROYAL DUTY, the Man Known to the World as T R E can Do What He DO ... and drop a ROYAL BEATDOWN for DA WORLD. For the K'angdom of TRE! Unngh! YEH!
[The lights dim a little, followed by one lone spotlight being shone on TEAM FRANKLIN member Pieske, who brings with him a lone Roman Candle firework. He lights it, and after it goes off, Rob Franklin's theme music "Cocky" hits the loudspeakers, and he, along with Jacob Franklin and Pieske, walk to the ring, each wearing long golden TEAM FRANKLIN robes.]
DT: The look on Rob Franklin's face says it all. I don't think he appreciates Ice Tre dedicating an entire promo to our EPW World Champion, instead of using that time to focus on the match-up that they have ahead of them.
MN: Franklin's new around here ... if he understood WHO he was facing, he'd understand why he barely got any press. But, even if Ice Tre didn't mention him ... who is he? What makes HIM so special?!
DM: Franklin's a relative new comer to the sport, he made quite a name for himself in a multi-promotion tournament where he took Dan Ryan - yes THAT Dan Ryan to the limit before succombing to the Ego Buster's constant, consistent pressure.
DT: The bell sounds, as Ice Tre charges in with a flying clothesliiiiiinnnnneee that misses completely! I think Tre was trying to catch Rob Franklin off guard, from behind, but ended up eating a face full of turnbuckle.
MN: That guy never ceases to amaze me. I always say this, and strangely, the last couple of times I've been wrong. But, I really think Ice Tre's going to get hurt out there tonight.
DT: And, Franklin moves in with an Fujinami Arm-bar.
DM: Franklin is sitting on Ice Tre's shoulders, with Tre's arm lodged between Franklins leg, as he twists with his arm. Trust me, folks ... this move hurts TREMENDOUSLY. It's one of those maneuvers that's not often used, but usually ends with someone's shoulder popped out of it's socket.
DT: Ice Tre is in obvious pain. He's trying to fight to his feet, as Franklin lets him free.
MN: I'm interested in knowing if Tre would've given up had he stayed in that hold a little longer.
DT: Rob Franklin has Ice Tre's arm, he's twisting it, again and again. Tre's is in obvious pain, as he uses his free hand to slap Franklin in the face.
DM: To no avail, though ... that's only making Rob twist harder.
DT: Tre swings again, this time with a closed fist! Franklin relinquishes the hold, he charges in for a clothesline, Ice Tre ducks - awkwardly - as Franklin turns around and is met with THE ICE PICK! Tre just nailed Rob Franklin with his finisher!
MN: Or Triple X's finisher. Whatever you want to call it.
DM: Surprisingly, Ice Tre nailed that flush on the chin, but his momentum caused him to fall as well, giving Rob Franklin time to slide outside of the ring. Tre makes his way over to the ropes, near Franklin on the outside.
DT: What is he about to do? Tre bolts lightning fast to the other set of ropes, bounces off, and leaps through the top and middle rope!
DM: Tre actually EXECUTED a Suicide Dive?! Wow ... I'm at a loss.
MN: So am I, so am I...
DT: I think the connect surprised Tre as well as he stumbles to his feet. Tre raises Franklin to his feet with a handful of hair and slams him head first into the ring post!
MN: Believe me, I'm at as much of a loss for words as ANYBODY at the moment, but somebody told Ice Tre he could actually wrestle, and while that person could go down in history as the World Biggest Liar, he did something remarkable by giving Tre some confidence.
DT: Tre tosses Franklin back inside of the ring. Again he uses the ropes for leverage, and bounces off--
DM: -- CLOTHESLINE FROM HELL! Franklin countered with a clothesline that almost took Ice Tre's head off! And, the energetic, self-proclaimed "King of the Cage" is on his back again!
DT: Not for long as Franklin moves in and connects with a belly-to-belly suplex sending Ice Tre to the opposite side of the ring! Tre's in agony as his back must be throbbing!
MN: It could be worse, it could be broken.
DM: Wow, just wow...
MN: I'm just saying, is all...
DT: Franklin moves in again, and again he lifts Tre up by the head. He tucks Tre's cranium between his arms, and spikes down, planting him with a picture perfect DDT! Rob drops down for the cover... ONE! TWO! Ice Tre lifts up his shoulder!
MN: I think it goes without saying that I don't like Ice Tre, but I will say, he can definitely take a beating. I'm not sure if that's pure heart or stupidity, but whatever it is, it's gotten him a couple of decent victories in Empire Pro Wrestling.
DT: Rob Franklin is heading up top. Tre is down in the center of the ring ... Franklin leaps aaaaaaaaannnnnnnnnddddddd TRE SLIDES OUT OF THE WAY! Ice Tre has a second life!
DM: If Franklin would've connected with that flying elbow, that more than likely would've spelled the end of the match for the man known as the K'ang of the Streetz! Now, all that attempt means is a possible dislocated elbow.
MN: And, more confidence for a wrestler with zero skill, who these people have fooled into believing he has a future in this business!
DT: Both competitors are on their feet, Ice Tre moves in, Swinging Neckbreaker! Tre with the cover! ONE! TWO! KICKOUT! Ice Tre's back up again, he hooks Rob Franklin from behind, RELEASE GERMAN SUPLEX!
DM: I'm not even sure he MEANT to release the suplex! I'm not so sure he knew how to successfully execute that move, BUT, in the grand scheme of things, it made for a better result for him, as Franklin landed on his neck instead of his back, and he appears to be OUT!
MN: He doesn't appear to be out, he IS out!
DM: While nothing can compare to the feat Ice Tre accomplished last week beating the World Heavyweight Champion, it's pretty surprising how much that has done for his ego this week. He's actually put together a string of successful wrestling maneuvers, and looks like he could possibly win this thing.
MN: On purpose, this time?
DT: Rob Franklin's on the mat, slowly working his way to his feet ... Ice Tre backpedals to the turnbuckle, I think he's about to set him up for another Ice Pick ... Tre's measuring him, Franklin's up, Tre charges in and CONNECTS! THIS IS THE SECOND ICE PICK OF THE EVENING! Ice Tre drops down for the pin...
ONE...
... TWO!
........ THR-- FRANKLIN GOT HIS SHOULDER UP! ROB FRANKLIN KICKED OUT!
MN: Thank God...
DM: I honestly don't know HOW he did it... Just like the first time, Ice Tre nailed him pretty good.
MN: I know how he did it... it's because he knows that if he were to lose to Ice Tre, it'd be CAREER SUICIDE! He may as well pack his bags and head for the indies, because he just does not belong here!
DM: So are you saying our EPW World Champion should do the same?
MN: I'm saying, stop putting words in my mouth! EVERYBODY knows that there is no way in hell Ice Tre can beat an accomplished veteran like Tripl-- What in the HELL is he doing?!?
DT: Ladies and Gentlemen, this could be dangerous! Ice Tre is climbing to the top ropes, folks! He's measuring Franklin ... I don't know what he's going to try to do here but--
[CUE UP: "Love Me or Hate Me," Lil Wayne.]
MN: I knew it! I knew it! Ice Tre is dead!
[The curtain parts as EPW World Heavyweight Champion, Sean "Triple X" Stevens walks through in a hurry, baseball bat in hand, eyes trained on the man who STOLE his King of the Cage crown.]
DM: Here comes the champion alright, one would think to get a little retribution for last week's surprise loss at the hands of the man in the ring.
DT: The sudden blare of music caught Ice Tre off guard, causing him to stumble off of the top rope, but look! TRE FELL ON TOP OF ROB FRANKLIN! HE CONNECTED! The referee drops down for the cover ... ONE! TWO! THHHHHRRRREEEEEEE! Ice Tre wins! Ice Tre wins!! ICE TRE--
MN: -- IS GONE! Ice Tre saw the champ coming down to ringside with that baseball bat, and rightfully took off through the crowd! Good move!
DM: Not before grabbing the King of the Cage crown from the timekeeper though! Triple X enters the ring pointing the bat in Ice Tre's direction, as the self proclaimed King of the Cage continues to make his way through the crowd! Tre escaped! He did it!
[Leaning over the top rope, baseball bat in his left -- good -- hand, Triple X senses movement behind him, noticing Rob Franklin attempting to exit the ring out of the corner of his eye. In a swift display of movement, the REAL King of the Cage turns and charges Franklin nailing him directly in the skull with the baseball bat, laying him out ... cold.]
MN: The champion is PISSED!
DT: C'mon now, this isn't right! Triple X is leaning over Franklin's beaten body nailing him with clubbing blows with his one good hand! And, Franklin's bleeding! Somebody stop this! Somebody get security out here!!
DM: And, is you listen in closely ... as he's hitting him, he's referring to him as 'TRE'. I think the champion thinks Franklin is Ice Tre!
MN: Or maybe he's trying to GET Ice Tre's attention. Maybe he's trying to get Ice Tre to come out and defend Franklin since this was never Franklin's fight to begin with. Coward that we all knew he was, Ice Tre's nowhere near the scene.
[Officials enter the ring, in an attempt to break the -- now -- graphic display of violence up, as the blood really begins oozing out of Franklin's face. One official, in particular -- the fair skinned, Latino, with jet black hair, Emilio Gomez -- gets Sean's attention, as Sean finally gives in, and breaks free of Franklin.
Trip signals for a microphone.]
TRIPLE X: Hey! YOU!
[The official stops in his tracks, turning to face the Champion.]
TRIPLE X: Yeah, you ... Amigo. Come a little closer.
[The referee pointed at himself as he came in even closer.]
TRIPLE X: Weren't you the idiot that gave Ice Tre my crown last week? Yeah, it WAS you, wasn't it?
[The camera zoomed in on the referee's swollen left eye as a result of a clubbing blow from the champion last week.]
TRIPLE X: What's your name?
[Stevens positioned the microphone in front of Gomez' face.]
REFEREE: Gomez, sir. Emilio Gomez!
TRIPLE X: ... and, how does it FEEL to be stupid, Gomez Emilio?!
GOMEZ: I ... I sorry for misunder--
[With his bad hand -- his heavily cast right hand -- Triple X swung a punch that connected so hard that spit flew out of the referee's mouth, knocking him unconcious! Shaking his hand due to the pain, Trip stood over the referee's fallen body, microphone in hand.]
TRIPLE X: You listen, and you listen good, you little Puta ... I'm going to GET my crown back this week, and if I don't ... I'm going to BEAT THE LIVING HELL OUT OF YOU until I do!
[Stevens tosses the microphone down to an extra loud chorus of boos as he walks up the aisle and to the back. In the ring, medical personnel attend to Rob Franklin who’s now alert and angry. Franklin shoves a medic off of him and rolls out of the ring, leaving a bloody trail behind him and stalks up the ramp.]
DT: Franklin is pissed and with good reason – he just had his debut marred by the World Champion and got thrust into the middle of something he has absolutely nothing to do with.
MN: Wrong place at the wrong time.
DT: We’ll be right back.