MN: I've said it before and I'll say it again. Doe's a dwarf, and Storms is gonna slaughter him.

DT: But this isn't just any match, Mike. This is an I Quit match. No disqualifications, no count-outs, falls count anywhere, and the only way to win is to force your opponent to say "I Quit" into the microphone!

MN: I'm gonna take GREAT pleasure in watching Doe SQUEAL.

DT: Take it away, Fat Tony.

TONY FATORA: Th' following contest is scheduled for one fall! It will be contested under I Quit rules!

[Cue up: "The Final Countdown" - Europe. Bryan Storms walks through the curtain, holding a chair... only for John Doe to rush out behind him and start pounding on him with punches to the head and back!]

[SFX: *DING* - Bell rings.]

DT: - WAIT A MINUTE! John Doe jumping the gun here, attacking Storms even before either can be announced!

MN: What a gnome! Show some respect for a cool guy, kid!

[Doe continues pounding away on Storms, forcing the other man to drop his chair. Roughly, Doe wheels Storms down the ramp, sending the New Icon skidding along the steel to roll to his feet at the bottom. Grinning, Doe picks up the chair and rushes Storms, swinging for his head, but Storms ducks. As Doe comes around, Storms spins and kicks the chair into Doe's face with a firm leg lariat!]

DT: OH! Storms wheels that chair back into Doe's grill!

MN: I LOVE IT! Make the piggy squeal!

[Smirking, Storms grabs the chair, then rolls into the ring. He grabs Tony Fatora's microphone before sliding back down to ringside, pressing a foot against Doe's neck.]

STORMS: I'll tell you what, Johnny. Since I'm such a great guy I'm gonna give you the chance to quit right now and save yourself some embarrassment. How 'bout it, Johnny?

[Storms holds the mic down towards Doe. However, that proves to be a bad idea. Doe grabs Storms by the arm and takes him down in an armbar, then starts hammering at Storms' face with big right hands from a grounded headlock position!]

DT: Doe's not ready to give up yet! He's just beating the HELL out of Bryan Storms at ringside!

MN: Boo! Hiss!

[Grabbing Storms by the arm again, Doe drags his rival to his feet, then wheels him across the floor. Storms is sent caroming into the ring barricade, flipping halfway over it. Gruffly, Doe pulls Storms back into the ringside area, then grabs his head and slams his face into the ring post!]

DT: And Doe feeding Bryan Storms a hearty helping of steel there!

MN: Dammit, Doe. Storms doesn't like to eat poles. Not everyone shares your dietary and sexual preferences.

DT: ...You're sick.

MN: Not at all. I've got a clean bill of health, Burgerman.

[Stunned by his encounter with the ringpost, Storms crumples to the ground. Doe, however, is relentless. He again whips Storms into the ring, sending him tumbling over the barricade. Doe follows him, grabbing someone's cup of Coca-Cola and launching it at Storms. It misses.]

DT: Looks like Doe's looking to fan support for his foreign objects.

MN: Hey! I could've drank that Coke, dag nabbit!

[Storms dives into the crowd, attempting to put some distance between himself and Doe. Doe follows him, pilfering a steel chair from the crowd. As Storms pushes through a door into the backstage area, Doe follows and throws the chair at him. It connects, causing Storms to tumble to the ground.]

DT: Doe using that chair as a projectile, catching Storms across the back!

MN: Major-league arm, yo.

[Rushing across the backstage area, Doe puts the boots to Storms, then grabs him bodily and slams him against a wall. However, Storms takes the opportunity to headbutt Doe firmly. Doe stumbles backwards, holding his head. Gritting his teeth, Storms rushes Doe and brings him down to the concrete with a devastating tornado DDT!]

DT: MY GOD! STORMS WITH THE WRAPAROUND DDT ON THE CONCRETE FLOOR!!!

MN: YES!!! YES!!! MY DAWG!!!

[As Doe sprawls on the concrete with blood running from his nose, Storms stomps away at his head. The New Icon then heaves Doe to his feet and wheels him towards the wall, sending Doe face-first into it! Doe bounces off the bricks, stunned; he then eats boot as Storms superkicks him.]

DT: Storms with a HARSH superkick there, as he's back in control of the match!

MN: Did you expect anything less from my dawg?

[Smirking, Storms grabs Doe by the hair and bitch-slaps him in the face repeatedly. He then slaps on a front face lock and knees Doe in the face several times, sending more blood gushing from Doe's nose.]

DT: Oh! Storms throwing knees in an almost mixed martial-arts fashion, and Doe is bleeding profusely!

MN: And I LOOOOOOVE that sight! That's what Doe gets for messing with a cool guy like Storms!

DT: ...Mike. Storms isn't that cool. He's a pompous jackass.

MN: LIES! ALL LIES!

[Storms drags Doe along the ground by the leg, hauling him over to where a set of empty boxes have been stacked - at one time they probably carried bits and pieces of the stage. Dragging Doe off the floor, Storms slugs him in the mouth, then whips him towards the boxes. However, Doe suddenly reverses and catches Storms with a drop toe hold, sending him tumbling into the stack of crates!]

DT: OH! DOE SENDS STORMS INTO THAT STACK OF CRATES!!!

MN: DQ! DQ! THIS ISN'T A BOXING MATCH!!!

[As Storms reels amidst the pile of crates, Doe smirks and sets up one of the empty boxes. He then hops up onto it, flipping off with a moonsault into the crates and onto Storms!]

DT: MOONSAULT by Doe! He's got Bryan Storms on the ropes here!

MN: WHAT ropes!? There's not even a ring!

[Taking a moment to slug Storms in the mouth a couple of times, Doe beckons to referee David Rosenkrantz, who brings the mic over.]

DOE: Give up!

STORMS: No!

DOE: Give up!

STORMS: NO!

DOE: GIVE UP!!!

STORMS: F*CK YOU!!!

[Gritting his teeth, Storm reaches up and nails Doe in the mouth with a hard right hand. Stunned, Doe stumbles backwards, and Storms charges at him. However, Doe sidesteps and gives Storms a push, sending him caroming into a fire extinguisher case hanging on the wall!]

DT: Storms not giving up - BUT HE HITS THE FIRE EXTINGUISHER!!!

MN: I think the edge of that case cut Storms' face!

DT: You're right! I definitely see blood running from Storms' forehead!

[A smiling Doe advances on Storms, his fist drawn back. However, Storms thinks quickly. He grabs the fire extinguisher from the case and sprays it at Doe, filling the room with white clouds of flame repellant! Doe stumbles out of the smoke, clawing at his face. Suddenly, Storms emerges behind him and drags him onto his shoulders, then spins him and drops him into the pile of crates with a falling DDT!]

DT: STORMS MAKING USE OF THE FIRE EXTINGUISHER - AND HE HITS THE STORMCHASER!!! THAT SPINNING FIREMAN'S CARRY DDT ONTO THE PACKING CRATES!!!

MN: Now THAT'S how a REAL man takes care of business! Not a f*cking dwarf like Doe! [Doe sprawls amidst the crates, clawing at his eyes to try and tear away the stinging white foam of the fire extinguisher. Meanwhile, Storms wipes blood from his forehead, then grabs Doe and knees him in the gut, turning to wheel him towards a green steel door. Doe goes flying through the door, tumbling out into the open air.]

DT: This fight's starting to spill out of the arena!

MN: What do you expect? These guys wanna kill each other!

[Following Doe out into the open air, Storms grabs his adversary by the hair, then kicks him in the gut twice, knocking him to his knees. Storms then winds up and kicks Doe square in the face, sending him tumbling down to the concrete with blood running from his nose.]

DT: Storms has really done a number on John Doe's face thus far, as there's blood all over his nose, mouth, and chin.

MN: Looks like he's drooling blood.

[Breathing heavily, Doe pushes himself to his feet, only for Storms to slug him down again. Hooking Doe by the head, Storms throws him towards a dumpster parked nearby. Doe hits it hard, bouncing off the steel as his eyes glaze over.]

DT: Oh! Doe sent into that trash receptacle as Storms is completely in control of this contest!

MN: I've said it before. I'll say it again. STORMS ROCKS.

[Slugging Doe in the mouth a few more times, Storms shoves the smaller man down into a standing headscissors. He brings Doe up for a powerbomb. However, Doe slips out and lands on his feet in front of Storms, slugging him tiredly in the face. Doe then grabs Storms in a front facelock and brings him up, suplexing him INTO the dumpster!]

DT: OH! DOE DUMPS STORMS INTO THE TRASH!!!

MN: THAT'S SICK!!! WHO KNOWS WHAT'S IN THERE!!!

DT: I don't even want to know!

[Gagging, Storms leaps awkwardly out of the dumpster, brushing bits and pieces of filth off of his body. This doesn't seem to bother Doe, who howls as he rushes Storms, spearing him to the concrete. Yelling like a man possessed, Doe hammers at Storms' face with wild rights and lefts.]

DT: Doe pounding away at Storms with NO finesse whatsoever! He just wants to hurt him!

MN: That boy's on drugs!

[Storms throws his hands up to defend himself, but Doe just keeps pounding at him. Finally, Doe gets up and brings Storms with him, slamming him against the wall. He slugs Storms repeatedly, then drags him out to deliver a short-arm Amnesia Attack - but Storms ducks, causing Doe to land harmlessly on the other side of him. Both men turn, and Storms kicks Doe in the gut before drilling him with the Red Tide Rising onto the concrete!]

DT: NO!!! THE RED TIDE RISING!!! RED TIDE RISING ON THE CONCRETE!!!

MN: YES!!! YES!!! I LOVE IT!!!

[Staring down at Doe, Storms ponders his next move. He then smirks and walks away, leaving Doe to lie there, slowly recovering.]

DT: Wait a minute - where's Storms going?

MN: Probably doesn't care anymore. Doe's so done.

DT: The match isn't over! Doe never said I Quit!

MN: He might as well.

DT: I'm telling you, it's not over!

MN: And I'm telling you it IS!

DT: I just wish I knew where Storms was heading off to...

[Slowly, Doe pushes himself to his feet. Suddenly, the glow of headlights fills the area as a taxi pulls into view. Behind the wheel is Bryan Storms, grinning like a fiend. Flooring the gas pedal, he drives straight towards Doe, who barely manages to dodge to the right!]

DT: Wait a - STORMS IS TRYING TO RUN OVER JOHN DOE WITH A CAR!!!

MN: YES!!! BEAUTIFUL!!!

DT: SOMEONE NEEDS TO GET OUT THERE AND STOP THIS!!!

[Turning with a screech of tires, Storms again drives towards Doe, who narrowly ducks aside. The taxi again turns, its rear bumper scraping a wall. Quickly, Doe forces open the passenger's side door and lunges at Storms, and the two exchange punches inside the taxi.]

DT: DOE IS IN THE CAB!!! THESE TWO ARE POUNDING AWAY LIKE MADMEN!!!

MN: Hey, Doe! The meter's running! Pay up!

[The two pound on each other for a moment more. Doe eventually wins the fistfight, then grabs Storms by the hair and bashes his face against the steering wheel. With each bash, the horn sounds loudly. The referee jumps into the backseat with the mic, while the cameraman hops onto the hood to watch the action through the windscreen.]

DT: Doe using Storms' head to sound the horn!

MN: Looks like that cab's getting a bit crowded...

[As Doe draws Storms' head back, the Second Coming member gets one hand up and gouges Doe's eyes. He then grabs Doe and slams his face off the dashboard, following by grabbing the passenger's side seatbelt and pulling it across Doe's throat. As Storms chokes away, one of his feet hits the gas pedal, starting the taxi moving.]

DT: Storms is choking out Doe - Wait a minute, THE TAXI'S MOVING!!!

MN: ROAD RAGE! ROAD RAGE! WOOHOO!

[Blinking, Storms becomes aware of the sudden mobility of the vehicle. He suddenly grins and smashes Doe in the face with a set of right hands, then buckles Doe's seatbelt. With Doe stunned, Storms floors the gas pedal, aiming the cab straight for a wall.]

DT: Wait a minute... I don't like this...

MN: He's headed for a wall!

DT: Don't tell me!

MN: Do it!

DT: PLEASE DON'T TELL ME-

[At the last second, Storms jumps out of the car. The referee follows, and the cameraman just narrowly manages to escape. Doe, however, is still fighting with his seatbelt as the otherwise empty taxi approaches the wall at high speed.]

***CRASSSSSSSSSSSSSH***

DT: MY GOD!!! STORMS JUST SMASHED THAT TAXI INTO A WALL AT TOP SPEED WITH JOHN DOE STILL INSIDE!!!

MN: YES!!! YES!!!

DT: DAMMIT!!! THAT'S INHUMAN!!! SOMEONE GET AN AMBULANCE OUT THERE!!! SOMEONE CALL THE PARAMEDICS!!! JOHN DOE COULD BE DEAD!!!

MN: We can only hope! HA!

[As the totalled car lies smashed against the wall, a smiling Storms walks over and pulls a barely conscious Doe out of the vehicle. Doe's face is badly cut from the flying windshield glass, and his eyes are glazed over. The dazed referee stumbles over and holds the mic to the two.]

STORMS: Say it.

DOE: ...

STORMS: Say the words.

DOE: ...

STORMS: F*CK YOU!!! SAY THE WORDS!!!

DOE: ...Blow me...

[Storms' face contorts in rage. He suddenly grabs a shard of windshield glass from the ground and thrusts it towards Doe's face! Doe gets an arm up to block, but Storms presses down as hard as he can. Slowly, inexorably, the glass moves towards Doe's eyes...]

DT: NO!!! THIS IS WRONG!!! STORMS IS TRYING TO GOUGE OUT DOE'S EYES WITH THAT GLASS!!!

STORMS: SAY IT!!! SAY IT OR I'LL STAB YOUR F*CKING EYES OUT!!!

DOE: NO!!!

STORMS: SAY IT!!!

DOE: NO!!! NO!!!

[With a roar, Storms forces the glass down even harder. The tip is a millimeter from Doe's eye-]

DOE: ...OKAY!!! OKAY!!! I QUIT!!! I QUIT!!!

[Grinning like an idiot, Storms tosses the glass aside and gets up, walking slowly away. A bloody Doe is helped to his feet by the referee, watching Storms go.]

[SFX: Back inside the arena... *DING* - Bell rings.]

TONY FATORA: Here is your winner... BRYAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNN... STOOOOOOOOOOOOORRRRRRMSSSSSSSS!!!

DT: I don't think we've EVER seen a match like that here in Empire Pro, Mike. We knew that Doe and Storms didn't like each other, but I never imagined it would go that far!

MN: Screw that! Doe knew what he was getting into! Storms SHOULD'VE stabbed his eyes out and saved the world a lot of trouble!

DT: MIKE!

MN: Whaaat?

DT: That's a HORRIBLE thing to say!

MN: I know. I'm the bad guy on this commentating team, remember?

DT: But at least have a heart!

MN: Never.

DT: *sigh* Why me? Why me?

[Cut to a quick advertisement for Aggression.]