Stalker's Rules
Rocko Daymon vs. Fusenshoff


[CUTTO: The show returns from commercial break with a panoramic view of the capacity crowd. Zooming in on a dozen or so fans who suddenly realize they’re on TV; they pull at their t-shirts which include ‘Got Aggression?’, ‘Triple X- STILL the King!’, and a black shirt featuring The First in front of a background that is filled with synonyms for the word “First” as well as the word translated into many different languages. Are these shirts officially licensed? Probably. The camera also finds a fan-sign which reads: “Stalker can suck my Trynyty Wang!”]

DT: Back with more Aggression, folks, and we’re about set for the STALKER’S RULES match between Fusenshoff and Rocko Daymon! [Continues speaking as a side by side “vs.” graphic of the two competitors is briefly shown] And really, this one is about as interesting as it gets when you consider that Rocko, however accidentally, might well have cost Fusenshoff the TV Title to Layne Winters at Aggression 45.

MN: Accidentally?! Come on Davey Boy, read between the lines. Stalker broke Rocko’s arm and cost him the World Title, so Rocko cost Stalker’s slave the TV Title.

DT: Why would he do that? What would Rocko possibly have to gain from hurting Fusenshoff before his match?

MN: ‘Cause he’s unhinged and motivated by white hot vengeance!

DT: If Rocko Daymon had his way, it’d be Stalker in that ring across from him tonight, except Stalker is hiding behind a restraining order- surprise, surprise. And I’m sure Fusenshoff would love to have a piece of Stalker as well.

[Bell rings]

TF: The following match is scheduled for ONE FALL and is STALKER’S RULES!

[CUEUP: “Wherever I May Roam” by Metallica]

TF: Introducing first…hailing from Kamloops, British Columbia…he stands six foot three, weighing in at two-hundred and sixty three pounds, and is a former TWO-TIME, count ‘em TWO TIME EPW television champiooooonnnn… FYYYYYOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSENSHOOOOOOOOOOOFF!!!!

[Fusenshoff appears at the top of the ramp, staring dead center into the ring and intently making his way to the ring. He’s wearing a black leather jacket over a white tanktop, plus matching boots and dark jeans]

TF: AAAAAAND HIS OPPONENT!

[CUEUP: “Albatross” by Corrosion of Conformity; the opening riff blasts over the PA system until the first hit, whereupon the arena turns black]

TF: FROM TACOMA, WASHINGTON! Standing SIX-TWO, weighing TWO HUNDRED, FIFTY-EIGHT POUNDS…HE IZZZZZ THE FORMER EPW WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIOOOOOONNNN…. RRRRRRRRRRRRRRROCKO!!!...DAAAAAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY Y-MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNN!!!!!!

[Crowd pops as fire EXPLODES from both sides of the entrance! A montage of victory spots plays on the big screen as Rocko Daymon walks with intensity towards the ring, eyes fixed on Fusenshoff]

DT: Daymon in the ring now…these two are INTENSE competitors. Normally I’d say it looked like a grudge match out there, judging by the little impromptu stare down, but I can’t think of a time when either man didn’t carry himself that way in the ring.

MN: Yeah, these guys are similar. Similar in that they’re both lucky Stalker isn’t in there right now. Fusenshoff should count his blessings he’s in that man’s care, and clearly Stalker put the restraining order on for Rocko’s benefit, not his. The man’s a humanitarian!

DT: Here we go…Rocko initiates the lockup and immediately hooks Fusenshoff in a side headlock. Fusenshoff isn’t exactly known for his catch-as-catch-can wrestling ability. Fuse powers out though and sends Daymon off the ropes...meets him with a forearm to the chin!

MN: Stalker taught him that one, had to be.

DT: That’s doubtful. Daymon gives a little smile, cracks his neck, and they circle again. Lockup? No! Daymon fakes with the punch to the solar plexus, followed by an axe-handle to the back. Rocko’s trying to work over Fuse early here.

MN: Not like it matters; Fusenshoff is happy to take pain as much as dish it out. He’s in there for the sweet release of combat, a.k.a. he’s a crazy-man.

DT: Wow Mike, that sounds like a compliment. Could it be that you’ve grown a soft spot for Fusenshoff?

MN: No, I still hate him.

DT: Rocko misses with the running knee lift and gets CLOBBERED with a clothesline from Fusenshoff! And right away Fuse batters Rocko with punches on the ground…finishing off with stomps.

MN: Ouch…bite the curb, Rocko!

[Fusenshoff picks Rocko up and attempts a piledriver, but Rocko flips him over his back and immediately smashes a knee into Fuse’s forehead]

DT: Rocko returns fire, now! Standing German suplex for the COVER…

ONE…

TWOOO…

And Fusenshoff kicks out, no problem.

MN: Stalker couldn’t sell this guy for forty acres and a mule.

DT: Rocko picks up Fusenshoff, puts him right back down with a scoop slam. Rocko off the ropes…rolling knee across the face! And now he’s holding Fusenshoff with a kneeling shoulder lock. Look at this! Fusenshoff rolls out of it, revers-NO! Rocko delivers another knee to the face, and locks him right back in. Rocko Daymon is just relentless with those knees tonight…

MN: He needs to go to his bread and butter; he needs to brawl with Rocko! Come on Fuse, stick to the damn game-plan!

DT: Fuse reverses, pushes Rocko into the ropes, but he holds them and knocks Fusenshoff back. Running clothesline! No! Daymon got the boot up and into Fuse’s jaw…now meets him with a dropkick. Rocko right on top the action, not giving Fusenshoff a moment’s rest. He sends Fuse into the ropes…SPINEBUSTER SLAM! He rolls forward with the pin!

ONE…

TWO…

NO! Fusenshoff gets his shoulder up just in time.

MN: That’s it, I’m convinced: Fusenshoff’s throwing the match. He’s doing it to spite Stalker!

DT: What a ridiculous notion! Fusenshoff’s a two time TV Champion, and one of EPW’s fiercest competitors. Spite-losing for Jason Reeves earns him nothing…

MN: Look, I don’t see what a paraplegic has to do with this, Baconator. The man can’t feel his own jewels, why would he care about Fusenshoff?

DT: Jason Reeves is not Christopher Reeve, and I am NOT Dave Thomas! I mean…I AM Dave Thomas, but I’m not…umm…

MN: Face it Baconator, your daughter’s a red-headed wh[BLEEP]re.

DT: Rocko Daymon off the ropes with a crossbody, but Fusenshoff catches him! Throws him overhead with a body drop! Fusenshoff taking over the momentum now, and he has Rocko by the head, smashing him face-first into the turnbuckle! Daymon stumbles back dazed and gets hit with a running bulldog…FOR THE PIN!

ONE…

TWOOOO...

AAAAND NO! Daymon’s up!

MN: Let’s go Fusenshoff, channel your inner-Stalker!

DT: I think one Stalker is plenty, thank you. A vicious elbow to the forehead sends Rocko back…Fusenshoff PLASTERS HIM with a clothesline!

[Fusenshoff ties Daymon’s feet up around the top turnbuckle, letting him hang upside down]

DT: And this is NOT GOOD for the former World Champion! Hung upside down in a tree of woe…Fusenshoff going to corner to corner…BASEBALL SLIDE! Daymon’s in a world of pain, and Fuse drags him right outside the ring.

MN: No pin? I thought this guy was smart?

DT: Fuse is smart enough to know it’s gonna take a lot more than that to put Rocko Daymon away. Now he’s looking to Irish whip him into the steps- OHHHH! But he gets reversed! Daymon slowly climbs onto the apron…back to the ring? No. He’s waiting for Fusenshoff to get up- he does. Rocko flies at him with a senton! Did you see that?! He just flipped off the apron at Fuse, and now both men are down.

MN: Great, a double count-out. Hey, why do I even bother coming to these shows? You think I need the paychecks or something? 

DT: Yes, frankly I do.

MN: Believe me, I’m not afraid of making my kids eat government cheese for the next year. However, in the interest of my brand new boat, my new car, and the stylishly high class wardrobe I like to keep, I’ll remain at the announcer’s booth and watch these two go at it.

DT: Well don’t do us any favors, now! The referee’s at an eight count, but Daymon’s up and climbs into the ring. Wait, no, he’s back out to break the count for Fusen- wait a minute, WHAT?! Rocko just broke the count, refusing to win that way, and he smacks Fusenshoff in the face with his boot!

[Daymon grabs Fusenshoff and runs him headfirst into the guardrail, causing several fans to get up from their seats and move back]

DT: Rocko just brutalizing Fusenshoff, and he tosses him back into the ring.

MN: That was atrocious strategy, I’m sorry! Take the count-out and hit the showers, don’t waste any more time than you have to. Now it’s plain as day how a brilliant tactician like Stalker was able to con these two rubes.

DT: Now to the top rope…Rocko’s up! Fusenshoff scrambling to his feet. Rocko’s waiting…waiting…waiting…Fuse charges forward! Rocko lands on his groin, and now Fuse climbs up and has Rocko!

MN: This could be it!

DT: SUPERPLEX! Both men are down, again! It’s a rarity when we see Fusenshoff climb the ropes, but the occasion clearly called for it! Fuse drapes the arm over Rocko…This could be all!

ONE…!

TWOOOO…!

THRRRRREEEE-NO! NO! Rocko got the shoulder up!

MN: These Zebras count slower than Resource Room children.

DT: Fusenshoff slowly drags Rocko up and hits him with a forearm! And another! He winds up for a third, but Rocko ducks under! Full nelson! SUPLEX! THE COUNT! 

ONE…

TWOOO…

THRREEEE! HE-what?! No?! He didn’t get him!

MN: Will you stop scaring me like that? It’s either three or it’s not. Don’t even pronounce the “thruh” in three until it’s counted. I’m really getting sick of you play by play guys, trying to give people heart attacks and stuff.

DT: I think I speak for everyone in the building when I say: I thought he had him! Fusenshoff’s got double-underhooks now…could this be some variation of the Whiskey Bomb? Too late, Rocko flips him backward…but Fuse holds onto the underhooks and reverse rolls Rocko! Pin? No, Rocko’s immediately back up and is met with a kick to the midsection. Fuse off the ropes…WHISKEY BOMB! HE NAILED A RUNNING WHISKEY BOMB! HE HOOKS THE LEG!

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

DT: He did it! Fusenshoff’s beat Daymon! Fuse engaged in a bit of grappling, had Daymon used to the tempo, and like lightning he crept up on the former World Champ with the Whiskey Bomb!

TF: HERE IS YOUR WINNER…FYYOOOOOOOOSENSHOOOOOOOFFFFF!!!!

DT: Unbelievable performance by Fusenshoff, considering how much trouble Rocko had him in only moments before.

MN: Hey, where’s his music?

[A chorus of boos begins to fill the arena]

DT: What’s going?! Oh NO…it’s Stalker! He’s walking down the aisle, and uh…hey, doesn’t he have a restraining order on Rocko Daymon?

MN: Nice job Matlock, but I’d leave the legal interpretations to his lawyer.

[Stalker raises the mic to his lips]

Stalker: FINISH HIM OFF!

[Fusenshoff just stares at the ground shaking his head.]

Stalker: END HIM NOW AND YOU WILL BE FREE!

[Fusenshoff jerks the microphone out of Stalker's hands.]

Fusenshoff: DO IT YOURSELF YOU SCUMBAG.

[He drops the mic and cocks his fist back, he pauses for a second as Stalker just grins at him.... and... WHAM!]

DM: HAHAHAH! Stalker just got laid out by Fusenshoff! Oh man I’ve been waiting to see that for quite a long time!

MN: He just knocked out his employer he's going to be gone for good now!

DM: We'll see about that.

DT: Guys.. who's coming down the rampway?

MN: That's Stalker's lawyer! He's probably here to give Fusenshoff his walking papers!

DT: Well he's got a mic in hand so looks like we are about to find out.

[Dave Anderson, representing Jason Reeves, with a mic in one hand and envelope in the other steps in the ring.]

Anderson: Fusenshoff. I suggest you stop yourself right now from doing anymore.

[Fusenshoff turns and glares at the young lawyer who doesn't back down an inch.]

Anderson: In my hand right here.... Is your FREEDOM! 

[Anderson holds the envelope in the air and Fusenshoff lunges for it but Anderson pulls it back. Cocking his arm back again, he gets ready to lay out the lawyer, but Anderson smartly steps back.]

Anderson: Hold... hold on. Listen, Jason Reeves has informed me that he wishes to no longer have any control over your career here in Empire Pro Wrestling as you have proved to be a worthless asset to him. So in turn he has written out this agreement freeing you from any orders and or conditions stemming from the previous contract you signed. Do you understand?

[Nodding his head, Fusenshoff steps in to grab it, but Anderson again pulls the envelope away.]

Anderson: HOWEVER! Once you sign your name on the dotted line on the contract inside, you will NEVER...... EVER.. be allowed to touch, confront, wrestle or get involved in any business whatsoever with any match that Jason Reeves aka Stalker is EVER involved in again. If you do so those papers you signed will become immediately useless and will automatically terminate you from Empire Pro Wrestling. Now this has been looked over countless times, but go ahead and have your lawyers look over it all you want. We'll await your response.

[Handing Fusenshoff the envelope, Anderson quickly exits the ring, followed by a grinning Stalker.]


[FADEIN: The First, stretching in the back. As he warms up, we hear an off camera voice.]

VOICE: Abra-Cadabra...Make this man...Normal! 

[The camera pans to show Shawn Hart, waving a stick with a gold star on the tip at The First, after a few moments he stops.]

HART: Dammit...I knew it was a bad idea to buy a wand that's on 75% discount. Don't worry man, one day I'll figure out a magical cure to your horrible outfits and all that junk on your face.

[First boggles] 

HART: Aaaaaanywho, I see you're taking the indirect approach to your BLOOD WAR with Anthology...

FIRST: There were 6 of you and one of me...There was no logical reason for me to fight you...But I had hope...We fought last week...Your eyes opened to the lies of Anthology...You understood there was nothing there for you...Nothing but being a slave for Cameron Cruise...You broke free...Tonight...Tonight Layne Winters pays for making things personal with me...This is something I have to do...So tonight, you fight Anthology...You, one man, stand against five...And you do this why? Because now you have hope too...Maybe you'll open Larry Tact's eyes tonight, maybe you won't...But you'll beat him all the same...If he does or doesn't find hope...Is up to him...But in the end...Hope will destroy Anthology...

HART: HOPE?! Maaaaaan, actions speak louder than words... and while hope is fine for Disney flicks and the Family Channel, what Anthology needs is a ginormous BOOT to their collective ASSES!! So while you sit there HOPING, I'm gonna unleash some of my magic on them!

[SJH brandishes his wand.]

HART: That's why I'm brushing up on my Patronus charm.

FIRST: Is that even legal in this state? 

HART: Not after sundown, but mark my words... I'm a man of ACTION, and tonight... I'm bringin' the action to Larry Tact!

[Hart waves his wand around for a couple moments, suddenly there's a loud shattering of glass and someone yelling.]

HART: I didn't do that...

[Hart and First look at each other for a beat, and then run off camera. A moment or so later Green Machine walks on camera, wearing a white #83 Wes Welker Patriots jersey. It has a big stain on it. He holds what appears to be the lid and handle of a coffee pot in his right hand.]

GREENIE: I can't believe that coffee pot just exploded like that on me, my first day interning for Lindsay and already things are going horrible...Bah...

[Greenie walks off in a huff.]

[Fadeout]


Larry Tact (c) vs. Shawn Hart


[FADEIN: The entranceway. Larry Tact is making his way to the ring. His EPW World Tag Team Title belt over his shoulder. "Pieces" by Hoobastank playing over the PA as the crowd is booing loudly.]

TF: The following contest is set for one fall, introducing first, hailing from Manhattan, New York, weighing in at 261 pounds...He is one half of the EPW WORLD TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS...Representing ANTHOLOGY [Boos!]...LARRY!!!!! TACT!!!!!

DT: Larry Tact making his way to the ring now...I'm sorry fans if I'm a bit distracted, but what just happened out here...Well I'm just at a loss for words really...

MN: That was horrible...Anarky is a maniac!

DT: Anarky's actions were beyond unacceptable...That's about all I can say...

MN: Thank goodness his aim was good, he could have hit me with that chair!

DT: Oh you're just awful Neely...This is no time for jokes...

MN: Well then why's Shawn Hart coming out here?!

[CUEUP: "It's Raining Men" by Geri Halliwell. Shawn Hart bursts through the curtain to a loud pop from the crowd. Hart's wearing pleather pants and white ring boots as he walks to the ring, high fiving fans on his way down the ramp.]

TF: And his opponent...He hails from Orlando, Florida and weighs in at 223 pounds..."THE PHENOM!" SHAWN! HART!

[Hart hits the ring and throws arms into the air, getting another pop from the crowd.]

[Bell rings]

DT: The two men circle...Hart catches Tact with a jab, and another! Tact being rocked by rights now...Hart with a dropkick staggers the big man...Hart with a BIG HIPTOSS gets Tact over...Tact back to his feet...EATS A FOREARM that rocks him...Hart grabs the left arm of Tact and breaks him down with an arm bar.

MN: Hart's a good wrestler and all, but he's just an idiot for throwing away the best thing that ever happened to him by turning his back on Anthology, Tact's gonna make him pay, mark my words!

DT: Last I checked, it was Tact and Wells with the tag titles and Edmunds, Copycat and Cruise who were getting the main events, I'm not exactly seeing what Hart was getting out of Anthology.

MN: I don't have to defend Anthology to you...Now that you put it that way, Hart was dead weight...Good to see him gone!

DT: You're just unreal...Hart fighting to keep Tact down...Tact trying to get to his feet...Hart now yanking on that arm, and now drives an elbow into the shoulder of Tact..Tact now cracks Hart with a right, and another...Hart lets go of the armbar, and Tact throws him into the ropes...BACKDROP! NO!...SUNSET FLIP BY HART! NO!...SITDOWN SPLASH BY TACT...HART MOVED OUT OF THE WAY!

MN: Dammit...Come on Larry, you can't let this traitor get the best of you!

DT: Tact still in that seated position...HART OFF THE ROPES WITH A LOW DROPKICK! Tact sent hard to the canvas! Hart covers!


ONE!!


TWO!!


NO!!


DT: Tact kicks out! Hart quickly back on top of Tact with a chinlock...Hart trying to keep the big man off his feet....Tact slowly pushing himself off the mat and getting to his feet now...Hart hanging on to Tact's back...TACT CRUSHES HART INTO THE CORNER! Tact now with a series of knees into the ribs of Hart...Tact with Hart...Just TOSSES him out of the corner! Hart crashing hard on the mat.

MN: There we go! Hart will learn the price of betraying Anthology now!

DT: Tact with a HARD kick to the head of Hart who's down prone on the mat now. Tact pulls him up by his hair and now lifts Hart up...BACKBREAKER! Tact holds up...AGAIN!...Tact STILL holding hard...A THIRD BACKBREAKER! Tact with a cover!


ONE!


TWO!!


NO!!


DT: Hart gets the shoulder up! [Crowd pops] Tact now bullying Hart, pushes him into a corner...Tact whips Hart to the other side...AND CRUSHES HIM WITH AN AVALANCHE! Hart falls to his knees and then crashes face first on the canvas...Tact lifts Hart back to his feet and SLAMS him to the mat in the middle of the ring...Tact off the ropes...DROPS A BIG LEG! The cover!


ONE!!


TWO!!


THR-NO! NO!


DT: Hart kicks out again! [Crowd pops!] and Tact locks in a chinlock of his own now...

MN: The big man grinding away at the little man, textbook wrestling, Hart's got fight, I'll give him that, but Tact is gonna squeeze it out of him! 

DT: Hart fighting [Crowd clapping "Let's go Hart!" chant] he's making his way up to his feet...Tact lets go of the head lock and lands a big right hand! Hart fires back...Tact and Hart trading punches, this doesn't look like a good idea for the Phenom, and it's not as he takes three straight rights and is sent crashing to the mat again! [Crowd quieted]

MN: Hart's out of his element, he's trying to do to much to prove himself as some sort of "Anthology killer" or something and it's backfiring big time. Tact's schooling him!

DT: The Phenom trying to pull himself up by the ropes...Now Tact waiting on him...Hart's up...BIG FOOT BY TACT...NO! HART DUCKED! TACT'S LEG IS STUCK ON THE ROPES! Tact now crotched on that top rope and Hart taking full advantage, kicking the rope and now He goes to the outside...CLOTHESLINE OFF THE TOP!!! TACT CRASHES INTO THE RING! 

MN: NO! This isn't right!

DT: Hart now drops a series of elbows on Tact...[Hart pops to his feet after the final elbow and yells "That's it!" at the crowd, who pop loud!] Hart now waiting for Tact...He's setting for the Hart On...[Crowd screaming, booing!] It's Copycat! Copycat rushing to the ring...He's trying to get into the ring...Now the ref is holding him back...Hart now sees this rushes over and drills Copycat with a right hand...Wait...Tact up! He's stalking Hart...HART SEES HIM COMING AND JUST BLASTED HIM WITH A SUPERKICK!! Copycat still has the ref tied up...WAIT!! MY GOD IT'S CAMERON CRUISE...HE JUST CAME OUT FROM UNDER THE RING!!! CRUISE IN THE RING WITH THE IC TITLE BELT...HART TURNS AROUND...AND GETS BLASTED!! HART'S KNOCKED COLD!!!

MN: Hart did that to Cruise to cost him that match with Stevens and that little emo twit! Turnabout is fair play!

DT: This is NOT FAIR! Tact makes the cover...Copycat now hops off the apron...THIS IS A CRIME!!! 


ONE!!!


TWO!!!


THREE!!

[CUEUP: "Pieces" by Hoobastank. Crowd booing LOUD!]

TF: Here is your winner...LARRY!!!! TACCCCTTTT!!!!

DT: It took three men to beat Shawn Hart, this was an outrage!

MN: This is what happens when you cross Anthology...You pay the price, get used to it Hart, get used to it EPW!

DT: I can't believe you defend this...What an disgraceful display here folks...Copycat tying up the ref, allowing Cameron Cruise, who had been hiding under the ring for I guess the whole night apparently to sneak into the ring and cheap shot Shawn Hart with that belt...

MN: He's the champion, he can do what he wants with his title!

DT: Serious a three on one...I don't know how anyone can hope to beat those odds...

MN: There is no hope fighting against Anthology...Get that through your head Dave!

DT: Ugh, Dean getting laid out was horrible, having to spend the next 2 hours after it with you only makes it worse...We'll be right back fans!


NEXT