[FADEIN: The broadcasting table.]


DT: Well fans, what's already been a brutal and crazy night is now about to have some gold put on the line, as Layne Winters now makes his second defense of the EPW World TV Title, last week going to the time limit with The First, now facing Copycat in his singles debut in EPW.

DM: Finally Copycat quits talking about beating up the whole EPW locker room and meets somebody one on one.

MN: You two whine all you want, Copycat played this perfect, he's called his shot and now he's got himself a World Television Title Shot right off the bat!

[CUEUP: “My Way” by Butch Walker. The crowd boos as Copycat's video package hits the EmpireTron. Copycat walks to the ring in an open red robe, red trunks, red knee pads and ring boots. He enters the ring and then looks at the crowd with a cocky sneer.]

DT: Copycat clearly holding this crowd, and even his opponent Layne Winters in contempt. 

DM: It's one thing to disrespect these fans, but Layne Winters in his short time in EPW has made a name for himself for sure, his only loss coming at the hands of Shawn Hart, since then he beat Copycat's fellow Anthology member Larry Tact, defeated Fusenhoff for the TV Title 2 aggressions ago, and on our last show fought The First, who'd been on quite a roll, to a draw. 

MN: And now that freak has been rolled into a coffin. 

[CUEUP: “I Don't Know Anything” by Mad Season. Green and silver lights flash at the entranceway curtains while the letters spelling out L-A-Y-N-E-W-I-N-T-E-R-S appear on the big screen, fading in and out individually. Layne Winters slowly walks out of the curtain, Pamela at his side, wearing the EPW Television title around his waist over his mud green trunks. The smattering of boos begin to get louder and soon fill the arena. Layne bows his head, smiling...pointing to the title around his waist and promptly turning it into a big middle finger that he flashes the entire arena. Winters knee pads, ring boots and elbow pad on his right arm match his trunks. He enters the ring and stares daggers at Copycat.]

TF: The following contest is for the WORLD...TELEVISION CHAMPIONSHIP! With a 15 minute time limit! Introducing first, the challenger, representing Anthology! From Kalamazoo, Michigan...Weighing in at 278 pounds...COPY!!! CATTTT!!!!!

[Crowd boos, Copycat doesn't react, keeping his eyes on Winters.]

TF: And his opponent...He hails from Seattle, Washington...Weighing in tonight at 251 pounds...Here is the currently EPW...WORLD...TELEVISION CHAMPION! NEW SCHOOL! LAYNE!! WINTERS!!!

[Winters takes off his belt as ref Pat Jones requests it, but before handing it to Jones he sticks it in Copycat's face, yelling “You don't win this by being entertaining! You win this by WRESTLING!” Jones stops the two men from coming to blows and Winters finals hands over the belt. Jones holds it aloft for the camera, then hands it to the ring keeper and calls for the bell.]

DT: And here we go! The EPW TV Title to be decided. The two men lock up. Winters knees Copycat in the gut and now lands a series of hard right hands...Winters scoops up Copycat and SLAMS him to the mat...Winters, picking up a near 300 pound man and just driving him hard to the ground, that was impressive!

MN: I'm torn on this one, Winters did the world a favor on the last show, but Copycat's Anthology, so well, I guess I'll be happy either way.

DT: Winters lands a series of stomps to Copycat and now off the ropes...BIG KNEE DROP to the head of Copycat! Winters covers!

ONE!!

TWO!!

NO!!

DT: Copycat out right at two. Winters gets him back up and lifts him...SIDEWALK SLAM by the TV Champion! [“Was that entertaining?! I'm just here to learn, teach me!' Winters yells at Copycat before kicking him in the ribs twice.]

DM: Winters clearly enjoying beating up Copycat, these two men showed nothing but disgust for each other heading into this match, and it's clearly at a boiling point now.

DT: Winters now backs Copycat into the ropes. He whips him to the other side and FLATTENS HIM WITH A BIG TIME CLOTHESLINE! Winters drops down for the pin, he hooks the leg!

ONE!!


TWO!!


NO!!

DT: Copycat still with plenty of fight left in him, Winters locks on a reverse chinlock to stop Copycat from getting to his feet...Copycat fighting to his feet. He throws a series of elbows into Winter's stomach to break the hold...Copycat off the ropes...Ducks a clothesline from Winters, Cat off the ropes...FLYING FOREARM! 

DM: Big time impact from the challenger and it appears to have shifted the momentum of this match to Copycat's side! 

MN: That's it, I'm backing the Cat for this match! 

DT: The ever important Neely seal of approval is now on Copycat for this match...Winters trying to get to his feet and he gets a punch in the face for his troubles. Copycat sends Winters into the opposite corner and follows him in with a RUNNING KNEE! Winters is rocked...Copycat takes him out of the corner with a BULLDOG! And now a cover! 


ONE!!


TWO!!


NO!!

DT: Winters kicks out, Copycat giving Pat Jones a bit of lip over that count. Copycat now buries his hand into the shoulder of Winters, trying to apply pressure to that nerve while at the same time getting his weight on Layne's back.

DM: Winters has fought some of the biggest men in EPW, Olvir, Fusenhoff, Tact, and now Copycat. With the exception of his recent match with The First, Winters has been the same size or smaller then his opponents.

DT: And you wouldn't think that would often be the case for a man over 6 foot and weighing in a little over 250, but that's been what Winters has had to face. Winters getting to his feet, takes a knee to the gut as he gets up, and then a right to the jaw, Winters now staggering into the corner. Copycat drives his head into the turnbuckle...And now a series of shoulder blocks in the corner...Winters getting all the wind knocked out of his system. Copycat now backs away and measuring Winters...Winters stumbles out of the corner...KIT KAT KICK! Copycat just FLOORED Winters and he covers!


ONE!!


TWO!!


TH-NO! NO!

DT: Winters kicks out! Copycat lifts Winters up...AND A BACKBREAKER...Copycat off the ropes...STRAY CAT STRUT...AND THE ELBOW! HE HOOKS THE LEG!!


ONE!!


TWO!!


TH-NO! NO!!

DT: Winters refusing to quit! Copycat punches the mat in anger as he glares at Winters. Copycat getting Winters back to his feet, he hooks him up now...I think it's time for the Litterbomb! 

MN: I like Copycat and all, but Litterbomb...Just doesn't do it for me, he's a cat based guy. Gotta be a better name then that.

DT: I'll be sure to tell him your deeply held concerns. WINTERS WITH A BACKDROP! He just POWERED out of that Litterbomb attempt. Copycat gets up a bit wobbling and he is getting HAMMERED by right hand after right hand from Winters who now bounces off the ropes...CLOTHESLINES down Copycat...Copycat back up...ANOTHER CLOTHESLINE...Winters going to the second rope...He waits on Copycat to get up...FOREARM OFF THE SECOND ROPE! He just cracked Copycat with that! The cover! 

ONE!!


TWO!!


THR—NO! NO!

DT: Copycat escapes and man that was close. Winters quickly getting Copycat back to his feet and kicks him in the gut to double him over....DDT! He planted him! A cover! 


ONE!! 


TWO!!

TH-NO! NO!

DT: Again Copycat escapes!

MN: Anthology doesn't recruit wimps, Copycat is as tough as they come, he didn'r want to waste his solo return to the ring on some meaningless match, no he''s going to be TV Champ when tonight's all said and done, and all the gold will be in the hands of Anthology or Trip, which makes things right in my world.

DT: Doing as best I can to not react to Neely's insane rambling, Winters now waves his arms, he says this match is done, he's waiting on Copycat to get up. He has Copycat now and hooks him...GREEN RIVER JUSTICE! NO! COPYCAT LANDS BEHIND WINTERS...INVERTED DDT! BOTH MEN DOWN!

DM: Copycat just saved himself there, the Green River Justice put down Fusenhoff to win the TV Title for Winters, and it's effects are nothing short of devastating. 

DT: Both men trying to get to their feet now as Copycat is first to his feet and hammers Winters with a series of right hands. Winters rocked and now Copycat muscles Winters up on his shoulders...SAMOAN DROP!! Copycat with a cover! 


ONE!!


TWO!! 


NO!!

DT: Winters out at two. Copycat now gets him back to his feet...RELEASE GERMAN SUPLEX! Winters lands HARD on his neck! Copycat DROPS A BIG LEG! HE COVERS! LEG HOOKED!!


ONE!!


TWO!!


THR-NO! NO!!

MN: Just die Winters! Die like every everyone from Seattle does! 

DT: Oh just stop Neely! Copycat now has decided it's time to finish this thing, he's got Winters hooked...HE'S GOT HIM UP...LITTERBOMB!! HE JUST CRUSHED WINTERS!! THE COVER!!!



ONE!!!


TWO!!!


THREE-NO! NO!!!!

DT: WINTERS GOT THE FOOT ON THE ROPE!! Copycat can't believe it...He hooks the leg! 


ONE!!


TWO!!


TH—NO! NO! 

DT: Copycat is LIVID! He drags Winters into the middle of the ring and covers again. 


ONE!

TWO! 

NO!! 

DT: Winters kicks out! Copycat is just beside himself! He rolls to the outside...HE'S GOT A CHAIR! WHAT IS HE DOING!!! OH LORD THAT CHAIR ACROSS THE BACK OF WINTERS! [Bell rings!]

DM: Copycat has let his anger get the best of him and he's thrown away his chance at winning the World TV Title! 

DT: Winters was hit with that Litterbomb and I'm sure Copycat thought there was no way this wouldn't be over, but Winters escaped THREE pins and now in a fit of rage Copycat is assaulting Winters with that chair! Other EPW refs and staff out here now trying to subdue Copycat, who's just gone berzerk.

MN: Look, Layne Winters is beneath Copycat, scum like him using the ropes to save themselves from certain defeat, it's just galling to a talent the likes of Copycat.

DT: You'll spin anything...You're disgrace

TF: The winner of this bout as a result of a disqualification and STILL World Television Champion....”NEW SCHOOL!” LAYNE! WINTERS! [Crowd gives Layne a bit of a pop as Pamela hovers over him to see if he's OK]

DT: Copycat lost his temper, and lost his shot at the TV Title, I don't know if this is the end of the issue between these two men, we'll be right back with more after this!

[FADEIN to a small office. The walls are wood-paneled and a man in a sweater vest, khakis and white balding hair sits up across from the man known as Anarky, who is slouched over, silent. Not a sound can be heard. Finally, the older man speaks.]

THERAPIST: "Listen, Anarky. I can sit here and get paid to do nothing. But that's not going to help you, is it? EPW doesn't exactly consider your current mental status acceptable. And if you aren't going to do anything to convince me they should even take a risk ever letting you walk into the ring again, I don't see why I should bother."

[Anarky just stares at him for a moment and smiles.]

ANARKY: "Let's face it, doc. The only chance I got is if you accept bribes or you suffer from some kind of mental... slowness. Cause only a f*cking idiot would ever try to sit here and tell me my mental status is f*cking acceptable."

[The man considers this for a moment and smiles.]

THERAPIST: "Anarky. As a wrestler, we expect a certain amount of anger. You wouldn't be good at your job if you couldn't get fired up for a match, so to speak. But what we cannot have is you attacking innocent bystanders. EPW can neither afford nor accept this kind of wanton violence against non-participants."

ANARKY: "Non-participants? Innocents? Don't give me that sh*t. Dean was as guilty as you or I. As anybody. F*ck that. His entire livelihood is nothing more than a glorification of men like me, of monsters. He's the motherf*cking pimp in this whore house... and you want me to sit here and act like some f*cking nun and ignore his transgression? He's as good as anybody."

THERAPIST: "Where does this nihilism come from? Have you always felt this way?"

ANARKY: "Does it matter? Whether I was born with it or whether I was simply raped by mimes? Will it change something? Will we have a breakthrough, doc?"

THERAPIST: "I'm not a moron, you know. I understand you are unimpressed by emotional exploration. But just as you do your job, I'm expected to do mine. And if that means convincing you to explore your rage with your opponents rather than the people around you, regardless of whether they deserve it, then I will have to try.

"Perhaps, Anarky, if you are not convinced by the simple moral judgment upon your actions, then consider this: by attacking Dean Matthews, you've actually restricted yourself from further violence. Any ability you have to feel alive, as you like to say, is now gone."

[At this, Anarky narrows his eyes and sits up a little.]

ANARKY: "I will find a way. They can suspend me all they want. They can hire a million security guards. I will always f*cking claw my way through. Because I care not for your f*cking concerns. There are other ways.

"You see, it isn't about nihilism or feeling alive or any of that other sh*t, doc.

"I.. I am a f*cking prophet... a visionary. I see through you. Through you all. And I know who you are. And with one hand you condemn me, but with your other you pat me on the back and reassure me, and you whisper, more, more... draw their blood... do what I cannot... what I am afraid of... be my vengeance, my rage...

"I am just a siphon... a f*cking channel through which energy flows... I am everyone... I am you... when all you feel is anger. When you just want to reach out and crush someone.

"I will never change, my friend. So just write me off. Just tell them to send me up the f*cking river, cause it's too late, man. You can't come back from this. You don't just wake the f*ck up and scream EUREKA I GET IT cause there ain't sh*t to get.

"This... this is me. All I'll ever be. So don't f*cking tell me what I can able to do. Don't f*cking tell me what's gone. As long as there's blood, as long as there's rage inside you all, YOU WILL F*CKING NEED ME.

"So f*ck you. But thanks, doc, it was a real breakthrough."

[Anarky stands up and approaches the doctor, who cowers in fear. 'Nark just laughs and shakes his head, then walks away. After a moment, the phone rings. The therapist stands up and answers it.]

THERAPIST: "No. No, I'm sorry. I know you spent a lot of money. No. Listen, I know. I'm sorry. There's just... there's no way. [Pause.] No, I don't think so. Oh, and if were you, I'd hire more security guards. A... lot more security guards."

[He sighs and hangs up the phone before looking out the window. 

FADEOUT.]