_____________________________________________________________________________ |_____________________________________________________________________________| |__ICONOCLASM_________________________________________________________________| JAMES O'CONNOR _____________________________________________________________________________ |_________________________________________________________________________SPW_| |_____________________________________________________________________________| [Roll the tape!] [DCWL Total Dementia - 8/31/07 from Vancouver, BC. The scene is in then- Commissioner Henry Spikes's office. Spikes, Jeffrey Dylan Marsh, and Tara Silver are in the middle of a conversation.] JDM: Yes I'd completely recommend a few terminations to get things moving. For the good of the fed of course. And I'd start with the lowest of the low- that being Mr. um... what was his name.. oh yeah. O'Connor. (The Vancouver crowd lets a mild pop loose at the sound of James O'Connor's name.) Spikes: Well, let's be realistic here. Mr. O'Connor might not be setting the world on fire, but he's the type that will only get better. JDM: Oh yes of course, he definitely shows room for improvement. .. but there is that well... he really doesn't seem to appreciate what being in DCWL really does for him. He's alienated the locker room and been disrespectful to the front office. He's done nothing but impede my task, my responsibility, for the good of this company and through that directly being insubordinate to you and the good money you pay me to do my job. Everyone is talking about it. Tara: Oh they are. No respect for Henry Spikes. It is all O'Connor. [Fade out.] [SPW Off The Chain 7/20/09, Phoenix, AZ. "Wild" Bill Ian addresses the camera.] WBI: I see James O'Connor calling forward people to try and not let the memories fade away. I was almost moved to tears by your moving speech... but damn my laughter stopped just before that moment. I suddenly had a sad vision dancing about my mind of James wearing a paramedic's outfit trying to charge the heart paddles in a rush to bring the heart of a man back to life while he fails to notice that the man's brain has already been smeared across the street. You're pushing down on the chest with a man with no brain, and the crows are gathering above head to swoop down a pick him apart. Not too cunning of you... if you ask me James. [He takes a long puff from his cigar as we fade out.] [SPW Conquest 8/3/09, Las Vegas, NV. Scene: The infamous "charades" sketch.] "Jeff Keenan" Jean Pierre Celine: Okay... uh... O'Connor, you're up next. Nathan Taylor is "James O'Connor": Oh... uh... can I do it with someone else? "Jeff Keenan" Jean Pierre Celine : What, like in pairs? Nathan Taylor is James O'Connor: Yeah, see I'm kind of new. And I might be the best thing that Shootfire has going for it... but just in case I'm not, they like surrounding me with other talents to take the fall. I'm protected. So can you maybe have a few people go up there with me? I might be horrible at charades, but if I'm with others, we can blame them instead. I'll still be the golden boy. [Fade out.] [SPW Off The Chain, 8/31/09, Los Angeles, CA.] [Red Dragon stands up, hands pushing off the arms of the chair as he walks forwards towards the camera, the anger of the flames lighting his presence dwarfed only by the anger coming from his voice.] RD: YOU SEE, SO FAR, YOU'VE BEEN A PRODUCT OF YOUR ENVIRONMENT. RIGHT PLACE, RIGHT TIME.WHILE YOU MAY GET TO BE THRUST INTO MAIN EVENTS, DEFENDING TITLES YOU DON'T EVEN HAVE, AND GETTING LUCKY DECISIONS, AND THE HELP OF MEDDLING BACK- OFFICE CRONIES, MAKE NO FUCKING MISTAKE, JAMES....LOS ANGELES WILL NOT BE YOUR PLACE, AND CONQUEST WILL NOT BE YOUR TIME. I AM A STEPPING STONE FOR NO MAN, LET ALONE SOME MMA PUNK THAT THINKS HE CAN HANG IN MY RING..... [Dragon points out, leaning over the rope. Fade out.] [At last, we fade in to the empty San Diego Sports Arena. It's quiet now, unlike the raucous atmosphere that awaits when the opening bell of Iconoclasm rings. In the middle of the arena, the ring is set up, pristine, unblemished by the blood, sweat, and tears that will fall once the matches begin. The SPW logo, no different than the one spat upon by "Wild" Bill Ian on the last Conquest, adorns the canvas. Staring down at the logo, sitting on the top turnbuckle, is a man with stringy black hair wearing a black jump suit. This, of course, is "Cunning" James O'Connor.] JOC: Unworthy. Sheltered. Lucky. [He looks up, his blue eyes piercing the camera. He does not smile, seemingly stone-jawed and staring at the monumental task before him.] JOC: When Marsh and his IGA crew decided that it was time to take over SPW, it only stands to reason that they saw in the existing roster a weakness, a fatal flaw, that needed to be corrected for the betterment of the company. When they saw me, they saw someone who was unworthy, sheltered, and lucky. [James hops down. On his right leg, we see what are clearly the letters "S" "P" "W." On the left: "J" "O" "C."] JOC: Are they right? I've thought about it. When you approach a match with so much riding on it, you can't help but try to take stock. You need to confront your own doubts before your enemy can use them against you. [The camera zooms in on O'Connor. On the hooded jacket he wears is an emblem: a ring with the initials DB stenciled into the canvas. The SPW logo sits atop the ring, the symbol of the Danny Barnes Gym.] JOC: The more I considered their words, the more I keep coming back to the same conclusion. It's something my mentor shared with me, something I stated when I first came to SPW - The only real truth in this business is in the ring. [James runs his fingers through his hair.] JOC: It's as true now, on the eve of my first pay-per-view main event, as it was when I was embarrassed by JDM himself in my first real professional match. How we fight says more about who we are than words ever could. [For the first time, he smiles.] JOC: If that's true, then I find myself on a team with four people who are not only awesome fighters, but also have awesome character. Marissa Monet, The Great Black Shark, whose courage in standing against prejudice to attain her dreams drives her to greater and greater heights. Eddie Christian, a man who has seen the other side, can own up to his mistakes, and will fight with everything he has to correct them. Barry Baldwin, a leader who's not afraid to stick to what he believes. Sammy Knight, SPW personified, a man who will fight to the last to defend the honorable and just. [James shakes his head.] JOC: And what about me? My teammates have been in wars before. They've faced the scrutiny that comes with the main event. I could tell you how it's my time to shine, that I belong with this team, that I will help SPW overcome the invading horde. I could tell you that, but it would just be words. The only thing that matters? [O'Connor points down to the canvas.] JOC: Here in this ring, I will write the story of my career. A victorious Team Shootfire gives each of us any wish that we desire. If SPW is defeated, Team IGA gets to punish each of us in any way they see fit. Rest assured that I have determined my prize, and I'm sure French stereotype #34 and his cronies have dreamt up a diabolical punishment just for me. To be honest, though, that stuff is all beside the point. [The Cunning one looks towards the stands.] JOC: Winning brings with it the honor of defending SPW, a defining achievement that I can point back to, untold years into the future, and say that I made my mark. I would prove that I belong here in this great company. [The smile fades. Once again, he stares at the SPW logo on the canvas.] JOC: Failure brings with it something worse than what I will receive from Celine and company: confirmation that my detractors were right all along. That I ran out of luck, unable to shine when there was nowhere to run, that I was truly unworthy to represent Shootfire Pro. Compared to that, my punishment would be child's play. [A deep breath. O'Connor looks at the camera as it zooms in on his face.] JOC: At Iconoclasm, I will prove my worth in this very ring. Standing with the Shootfire Army, surrounded by the Deathwish cage, Monet, Christian, Knight and I will prove once and for all that SPW has the WILL to survive, the GUTS to compete, the TALENT to overcome adversity, and what we need to win the whole damn match... [James looks up to the rafters, holding his arms out at his sides.] JOC: We have...THE CUNNING! [We hold on this image for a moment, then fade to black.] _____________________________________________________________________________ |_____________________________________________________________________________| |__ICONOCLASM_________________________________________________________________| "THE BONECRUSHER" BARRY BALDWIN _____________________________________________________________________________ |_________________________________________________________________________SPW_| |_____________________________________________________________________________| [We find Barry Baldwin standing on the corner of Broadway and 165th St in New York City. He's wearing a pair of jeans, a plain grey t-shirt, white sneakers, and a vintage New York Giants baseball cap sits upon his head. Behind him you see a big tall building that says "New York-Presbyterian Hospital" in big letters and people are walking in and out of the building as well as up and down the block behind him. He looks up to the sky and begins to speak, not even paying much attention to the camera pointed at him.] Baldwin: When I was a little boy, my grandfather would always tell me what it was like to be a baseball fan in New York at the turn of the century, rooting for the New York Giants over at the Polo Grounds. To him, the Giants were the crown jewel of the city. [He chuckles as he looks at the camera] Of course this was before they ran away to San Francisco, never to be heard from again but that's besides the point. [He continues to stare up into the sky as he speaks some more] Baldwin: Everything was going good in terms of baseball for the city until a team from Baltimore by the name of the Orioles moved to this very spot and brought with them an 'inferior style of baseball'. Everyone knew they were invaders from another place; hell even their own manager Clark Griffith said it himself. And yeah that same team would go on to become the twenty-six time World Champion New York Yankees and thus become the more dominate ballclub in New York. But not without years and years of nefarious dealings and loud mouth standards, as far as I'm concerned. [He lowers his glance and now speaks directly into the camera] Baldwin: And now 105 years later, history is trying to repeat itself as once again a team from a run down place is trying to step in on to the big scene and dominate through scandalous means. Now, my grandfather may not have had much of a say on the matter when the Highlanders were around but come Iconoclasm, THESE "Invaders" are going to be sent back to whatever small market they crawled out from in the first place. Pack your bags boys... it's gonna be a bumpy ride. [And fade....] ______________________________________________________________ \____SHOOTFIRE PRO___________________________________________/ | \ \ \ / \ / / | / \ \ / \ / / | _________/ ________ \ \/ \/ / \ /______/ \_______\ / / \ \ / / /\__________ \ _____/\ / / \_______/ \ \ \ / / \ \ \ /\ / |___________________|_________|______\_____/ \_____/ |_____________________________________WRESTLING_®___| V/O: For over ten years and going strong... SHOOTFIRE PRO WRESTLING has provided the most cutting edge high impact sports entertainment in the world today- [The scene changes to a clip from the first ever SPW PPV Halloween Scream where Shootfire wrestlers battle inside a Steel Thunderdome Cage on fire! Dylan Dice, with his back on fire is just about to grab the SPW Heavyweight Championship, but "Flaming" Bob Muretic, literally on fire, hanging from the outside of the thundercage, grabs the belt a split second before Dice and falls off of the side of the cage in a burning mass as Dice falls down to crash to the canvas! The crowd screams, as Flaming Bob becomes the very first Shootfire Pro Wrestling Heavyweight Champion!!!] Steve Stone: And your winner, and SHOOTFIRE PRO HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION.... "FLAMING" BOB MURETIC!!! "God told me! I've already Got the Life..." Mike Waldrop: Kill, or be Killed!! [Roddy Taylor, AntiGod, The Stallion and Nick Payne are brawling on a wooden scaffolding high above the ring as then-commissioner Jack Macmillian's hooded thugs in The Dominion chop the supports down with axes, causing all four wrestlers to plummet to the ring below!!!!] GB: CYA Lata SUCKAS! "Welcome to the jungle, Watch it bring you to your- It's gonna bring you down-HA!" [Jeff Keenan jumping off a steel ladder hitting the "Quicktryke" Snake eyes legsweep on Vile Vince Viper all the way down through a glass coffee table, glass flying everywhere in a tremendous crash as Keenan and VVV are covered in shards and blood, Chicago rising to their feet in the HCW Arena!!] JPV: All Eyes on Me!! Adam Cage: Because I'm Adam Cage- and you're not!!! [Vile Vince Viper has Corey Irons pinned with a back suplex as both wrestlers lay with shoulders on the mat in a cage that just expoded sending drifts of smoke throughout times square, the 5 Phases of Death Match having counted down to a mega explosion! At the last possible second, Irons kicks out to win the SPW Trophy Cup at the conclusion of the Shootfire: Violent Ascension Tour!] Sabbath: I am the Devil... and I'm here to do the Devil's Work!" AsH: CAN YOU FEEL IT!? "I'm not trying to make a difference" [At Iconoclasm, AsH slams his chest and yells SPW before diving off the buckle with the Air Rage! He leaps into a full arc and spins downwards to spread his arms and spin like a tornado before driving his shoulder into the chest of Adam Cage! AsH rolls off as Andrew Davis sails through the air in a 540 Degree Swanton Bomb!! Andrew crashes into Cage as the fans stand throwing their arms up, AsH and Davis celebrating in the center of the ring!! The fans cheer out and AsH immediately turns to strike his friend upside the jaw with the T3 Superkick, pinning him but Andrew gets his foot under the bottom rope!] Gionet: It's not about how or why- "I bleed it out, dig it deeper just to throw it away!" [As AJ Black yells out, banned wrestler Darin Kisler stabs Steve Greedy in the calf, plunging a knife into his leg! The audience screams in horrified rage as Black stands over Greedy, yelling down and Kisler puts a dollar bill in a cut on Steve's arm, then sets it on fire to burn a cauterized wound in his flesh!!] Gionet: It's all about Do, or Die! Biz: Nothing personal- it's just Bizness!! "What if I say I'm not like the others? What if I say I'm not just another one in your place? You're the pretender, what if I say that I'll never surrender?!" [Gionet flies up into the air as time slows down and at the height of his arc his image changes into that of AsH! AsH starts to drop and twists to spread out his arms, twisting downwards in slow motion to shoot out his arms for the Skytwister Press as he suddenly morphs into Scott Starring! Starring rips his legs upside down to fly out into the Shooting Star Press! As he falls he turns into a twisting dive of black changing right into Despair as he flips into a Corkscrew Moonsault!! Despair spins to change into Sammy Knight who lands the Ghetto Stomp straight into a wrestler's back The Biz drives down through the mat with a Kudoh Driver!!!] EVD: IT'S... SHOWTIME!!! "He said yeah you better come out with, both hands up we got you surrounded" Sammy Knight: BLOOD IN... BLOOD OUT! [Sammy Knight is held up on the shoulders of the Shootfire Locker room as he celebrates at Wrestlebowl with his world title win, wiping tears of joy from his face as his son Darrion looks on, joined by the raucous crowd, the cheering seventeen thousand fans in Vegas and the millions watching around the word enjoying his victory!!!] "S! P W!!!" "S! P W!!!" "S! P W!!!" "S! P W!!!" "S! P W!!!" Sammy Knight: It's all the motherfuckin' same! V/O: Shootfire Pro Wrestling: Set The World on Fire! TV (C C) MA Closed Captioned ______________________________________________ / \ / S H O O T F I R E P R O \ / ___________________________________________ / / / \\ \ // // / / / / ___ \\ ___ \ // // __/ / | | /__/____/ /__/ / // // / / \ \ \/ / // // / / \ \________ \ _____/ |/ |/ / / / / \__\ | / / / / / / / \ / / / \ \___________/_____/_/_______/\______/ / \ ___________________________________ | \ \ \ W R E S T L I N G \ \_______________________________________/® S A P Programación en Español R S N P P V _____________________________________________________________________________ |_____________________________________________________________________________| |__ICONOCLASM_________________________________________________________________| Shootfire Pro proudly presents: ICONOCLASM O.T.C! From The San Diego Sports Arena, California!! _____________________________________________________________________________ |_________________________________________________________________________SPW_| |_____________________________________________________________________________| [We fade into the San Diego Sports Center as fans from all over the world scream at the top of their lungs as the camera pans through the arena, showing that every seat in the arena has been filled to the T. We then pan around looking at the 20 x 20 foot wrestling ring with white ropes and black drapings with "ICONOCLASM" written in red lettering. Standing on a platform next to the SPWTron and entrance way is none other than Tara Silver holding a SPW microphone. Her hair is pulled back into a ponytail as her breast are sitting perky in her red bustier. Standing along side her is Vik Avatar, looking like he hasn't taken a serious bath in a few days with a dingy black shirt and cut off jeans. Tara, turning her attention to the fans behind her flashes a beautiful smile before holding the microphone up to her lips.] Tara: Welcome to Off The Chain! I'm Tara Silver alongside Vik Avatar and we're here live in the jam-packed San Diego Sports Center as we're nearing closer and closer to the grand spectacle that is ICONOCLASM! We will be hearing from a star studded SPW lockerroom as we will watch as they share their last words of wisdom and war before they head into their matches. We just heard from James O'Connor and Barry Baldwin. This is the date that we've all been waiting for it's put up or shut up time, as this has been a tremendous season thus far! Vik: It has and I cannot wait, but never fear because we ourselves have a starstudded line-up for Off The Chain. Coming in from Marcus Davis' Spirit of Wrestling we have the former SPW reporter Heather Owens taking on Jessica Marsh. "The Darkman" Bryan Vincent is back from NJWF as he tries to take on rookie sensation Joshua North who had a less than impressive showing in Los Angeles. Also we have Nikki James taking on Nina LaRue versus a mystery opponent. Who do you think that will be Tara? Tara: I honestly don't know, but I'd love to see Myra Benedict as that mystery chick. Vik: That's actually not a bad choice. Tara: Yup, Iconoclasm is a big show, but Off The Chain has the talent as well. I can tell you right now I think the match I'm most looking forward to The Deathwish Cage match, Vik. The fate of SPW is riding on it as Hustle & Swagger, Marissa Monet, and James O'Connor--who replaced Spooky Doom after Barry Baldwin humiliated and kicked the young 20 year old superstar off the Shootfire Army. But they take on The Defiant Ones, Nathan Taylor, and Red Dragon who replaced "The Heretic" Derek Weaver. A lot replacing in that match, and it's sure to be a good one. Vik: That's an important match, there are a few that I'm looking forward too, like Victor Frost vs Quinn Scott. That's going to be a brutal match. Both men love violence, and I can't wait. I think there's going to be alot of bloodshed in this match-up, I can feel it. Another match that I'm looking forward to - if you like action like I do then the 8 team ladder match for the tag titles is just the match for you. The Deadbeats vs The Black Mass vs Team EGO vs The O'Malley Brothers. That's surely going to be fun. Tara: There's something for everyone at Iconoclasm. The World title is on the line as Andrew Davis challenges Sammy Knight. That's sure to be a fire match, but the question on everyone's mind is how is Sammy Knight going to be able to compete in both the Deathwish cage and defend his World title? Vik: Sammy has a lot of heart and soul, but he isn't superman. Davis has been there before twice, so Knight cannot take him lightly, and if he is..then folks we will have a new World Champion here tonight. Tara: Another wrestler who has two matches tonight is Red Dragon as he also takes on El Rey Futuro. Also lined up is The First Lady of SPW, Jasy O'Neil as she battles The First Lady of the Invaders, Orchid in a last woman standing match. Vik: That's going to be a knockout and so will the Women's World title match as Tiffany Lane challenges champion Poet Wright. Both are tough competitors, but it's hard to bet against "The Blonde Bombshell". Tara: It's truly an action-packed event. But let's get into some words from the SPW stars and meet back here for Heather Owens as she takes on Jessica Marsh! _____________________________________________________________________________ |_____________________________________________________________________________| |__ICONOCLASM_________________________________________________________________| HEATHER OWENS _____________________________________________________________________________ |_________________________________________________________________________SPW_| |_____________________________________________________________________________| [The scene opens up and we find the night sky to be pitch black without a cloud in it. The streets are about as desolate as can be without a soul roaming them. Its the perfect situation for someone to get hurt and hurt bad! As the camera roams the city we find a lone figure walking the streets dressed in an all black suit with a white shirt and red tie. Sound somewhat familiar? Yeah? Well... ...Its not who ya think! The lone figure is actually the former reporter for Shootfire Pro Wrestling in Heather Owens and a lot of things have happened since we last saw her. She met a young man in her life that has helped her through her training in the “Dream Factory” and now she gets to face Jessica Marsh, one of the other newcomers in the company. As she continues her walk down the street with only the streetlights lighting her way she gives a smile as she begins to speak...] Heather Owens: And so...it begins my dear friends. Our journey into the world of wrestling not as a reporter anymore, but as a competitor in the ring where many men and women have risked lives and careers to hopefully either hit it big or end up as just another person taking up a roster space. Sometimes there are wrestlers whom are so arrogant and full of themselves that they don't understand who or what brought them to the “Big Show” as its often called in the facilities where people take their bumps and bruises hoping to be part of something special. Does it always happen? No, but its the thrill and the hope for them that keeps them going and with good reason. You see for some its their “calling” and for others its “just a job” and those are the wrestlers that go nowhere quick! You look at people like Iris Galiver whom went through more political bullshit than anyone should ever have to go through in their career to attain a title, but they'll tell you that it makes them hungrier...it does! So what of me? I can hear some of you asking. Well let me tell you that there was a point in time where a person like me was actually quite happy being a reporter for your company. Met a lot of interesting folks and got to meet many different people along the way and for that I'm 110% grateful. I felt however that it was soon going to be my time to come out of my “shell” as a reporter and prove to myself and to you fans that Heather Owens isn't a pushover and isn't going to be one either! A person like myself has been through a lot trying to figure out leads and stories, but NOW...now I get to prove myself to you all over again when I come down to that very ring and fight for my spot back into SPW and the first step is a Ms. Jessica Marsh! Jessie let me make a few things perfectly clear alrighty? There's two ways to get in the business: Earn it or steal it! The good news for you is you're choosing to earn it and break your back to do so. The bad is its not easy! Trust me...I learned the hard way when I banged the back of my frickin' head on the mat back in the Factory and got plenty of sense knocked back into me. So here we are Jessie: Two women that are going to fight their everloving asses off to show the SPW fans EXACTLY what we have. For one of us there is a good chance we'll be able to stay up amongst the masses and show the SPW fans what we can do by putting ourselves in contention for their Women's championship. For the other it just gets that much harder to climb that ladder and reach the holy grail of our division. I'm not going to tell you Jessica that I'm better than you cos even I'm not that naïve, but what I AM going to tell you is we got ourselves one chance to make a lasting impression on the fans and the management of the company. See you in the ring my dear and to the fans: See you soon! [The Camera fades out as Heather keeps walking down the street with only the sound of her heels echoing into the night...] _____________________________________________________________________________ |_____________________________________________________________________________| |__ICONOCLASM_________________________________________________________________| JESSICA MARSH _____________________________________________________________________________ |_________________________________________________________________________SPW_| |_____________________________________________________________________________| [Fade into the backlot of the San Diego Sports Arena as Jessica is leaning up against a concrete wall, her phone in hand. Dressed in a black choker, a grey bikini top and tight leather chaps over a leather thong, the toned and blonde beauty has a leg up as she stares out ahead with blue eyes, her blonde hair hanging down off a shoulder. ...The sound of crunching gravel approaches as the sleek black towncar of the Executive VP of Promotion for Shootfire Pro arrives. The driver gets out of the car, racing around to open the door wide and JDM Superstar arrives, getting up out of his limousine. Smiling huge, dressed to the nines in his tailor-made green three piece suit, he walks flanked by bodyguards as they make their way towards the arena- and Jessica stands in their way. JDM freezes as his bodyguards look to rearrange her facial features- and JDM Superstar smiles, motioning them to stop as he looks Jessica up and down] JDM: Nice fake breasts. The trust fund pays off again. Can you wrestle in those things? Jessica: Realer than your balls. I said I didn't need your help and I don't. I made it to the show without you. JDM: Yeeeahh on OTC. How nice for you. Well I don't know what or who you did to even get into SOW, but luckily you're getting off that sinking ship. Once SPW is fully under my control, we're tanking that operation and cutting our funding to knock it off. So yeah, I'd say do a good job out there tonight otherwise you might have to invest in kneepads next Jesse Jess. Jessica: That's not my name. Nice to see that giant ego of yours is just as inflated as always. I've been paying attention and there's nothing surprising, you're still a toad, a douche and a fag as far as I'm concerned. JDM: Oh I missed you too. So how's Mom? Jessica: Paris or Tahiti or somewhere. JDM: Long as the credit cards work eh? Jessica: Look I didn't come here to fight you. I came here to beat the ever loving crap out of Heather Owens. Miss train, say her prayers, eat her vitamins it's nauseating. I came here to prove a point that I can succeed without you looking out for me, the way you do your Invader friends. [JDM yawns, stretching out] Jessica: And when I do win, and beat her senseless and stick that microphone up her ass which is all she's good for, I'll throw that win in your face too. JDM: YAWN. You see, I say "Yawn" because when I yawn for real, you don't get it. [Jessica stands, eyes unblinking as clear fury is in her eyes. JDM smiles. He scratches his nose and thinks for a second] JDM: Well I'm sure you'll be able to just carve your way through the entire litany of Shootfire Goddesses. You know, you'll have no problem killing Superstars like Poet Wright, Tiffany Lane, Iris Galiver, Angst, Nina Larue. I'm so sure you'll just beat them all oh wait? Who on that houseshow ended up getting tombstoned onto ringsteps and massacred by our World Champ? Oh right, that was you. Jessica: I'm fine now, thanks for asking by the way. Oh that's right, you didn't. I don't know why you hate me. JDM: Oh don't get me wrong, I don't hate you Jess. I don't love you- I, Nothing You. Jessica: ...You're hurtful. But I guess I should be used to that. All I want you to know, is when I drag Heather Owens around the San Diego Sports Arena by her hair, and knock her out dead center in the middle of that ring, you'd better get ready, all of management had better be ready, to realize that my time is coming. My time is here. And if you aren't careful the next big thing in Pro Wrestling may just walk out the door and go sign with the competition. [JDM laughs] JDM: Are you threatening me? SPW? Well if you want a pay Cut sure by all means go jerk the indies in Phoenix Valley or that old folks home the UWF. Shootfire Pro Wrestling is looking to blast past the geezers and has beens and establish their own breed as the best in the business. We came from nothing, pronounced dead and we've built our fanbase to strive towards the top, until we're absolute best, and I am leading the charge, scorching the earth behind me. If we weren't related I'd tell you exactly what you needed to do to ensure your career... but since we are I'll just leave you with a FRIENDLY, word of advice. [JDM gets in close, leaning down to stare in his little sister's face] JDM: You ever get in my way again I will do worse than Wright ever did. It wouldn't be the first time I had to beat you down. But no, you want to keep getting back up. Women's MMA not good enough for you? Had to come mess with my sport, the sport of KINGS. That's fine. that's good. But no one threatens JDM Superstar, the Invaders or OUR SPW. And I don't care who you're related to, I'm not too old to put your face through the concrete myself. Jessica: Go ahead. I can afford the surgery. JDM: .....Yes. Yes well, obviously you can. Two for one discount I'm sure. Jessica: You're gonna have to kill me to get rid of me this time. JDM: Hehehee... maybe. But probably not I just don't think you really have it in you. Oh well get out of my way, I have business to attend to. Ya know Jesse Jess, grown up stuff. Have fun in your little match, break a leg... ta. [JDM walks past Jessica as his bodyguards follow, and Jessica stares after, lip trembling. Unable to control herself, she screams out after him!] Jessica: I WILL, I'LL FUCKING BREAK HEATHER'S LEG!! [Jessica glares after, watching as JDM and his entourage disappear into the building. Her shoulders heaving, Jessica's face contorts into a grimace as she just watches, fists clenching tight as her whole body begins to shake, her face a terrible scowl. End scene.] _____________________________________________________________________________ |_____________________________________________________________________________| |__ICONOCLASM_________________________________________________________________| JOSHUA NORTH _____________________________________________________________________________ |_________________________________________________________________________SPW_| |_____________________________________________________________________________| [The youngster Joshua North sits on a stool in front of an SPW banner, pure and simple. This time there is some excitement in his eyes, his face, his whole body... his voice.] JN: This is the night I've been waiting for. Ever since my supposed Shootfire debut was spoiled by Steve Liermann, and worse... [Not wanting to get into it] S-sullied by m-my... my actions, let's call them... I've been chomping at the bit, waiting oh-so-patiently for a second chance. For this night. For my real debut. An opportunity to test my skills on wrestling's biggest stage, to show the world who I truly am, and most importantly to _redeem_ myself! [Suddenly, he reconsiders.] JN: No. Wait. It goes back further than that. I've been waiting for this night ever since... well, since my wedding night. Heh. The wedding that never happened. Things were swell between Julie and I, so we decided to tie the knot, see? She knew I was the love of her life, and I thought she was "the one." That is, until we got to the alter and I realized there was room for only _one love_ in _my_ life: Wrestling. From that very moment it's been this night th- [He cuts himself off, shaking his head..] JN: Nope, nope. I'm wrong. This night's been on my mind since even earlier. 2005. My second consecutive High School Wrestling National Championship. I was so proud. My parents were proud. My coaches were proud. My school was proud. So... much... _pride._ I know excess pride's a sin, but at the time I didn't care. Or, I... just wasn't thinking of that. I was thinking only of coupling that pride with glory! Thinking of stepping between the ropes and demonstrating my skills under the white hot lights of a huge, jam-packed arena. Thinking of... this night. [A genuine grin. He reflects on how far he has come and it begins to dawn on him that this moment is actually here...] JN: And so when I st- [... but he stops himself again. A discovery.] JN: Wow. Now that I'm really thinking about it, the roots are even deeper. I've been waiting for this night since I was just a boy. [Ok, this is getting ridiculous now. Will you make up your mind? He makes an admission, as if he were at an AA meeting.] JN: I became addicted to professional wrestling at a very young age. My old man took me to an event 'cause he couldn't find a babysitter. Expecting an evening of frequent bathroom trips and concession stand runs with his four-year-old, he found instead a son transfixed. My eyes never left the ring. This was a life- changing moment for me. I had found something to take my mind off the death of my older brother. I had found a crutch... an _escape._That. _That_ for sure is when I first started waiting for this night to arrive. [Realizing he's flip-flopped his reasoning nearly half a dozen times, he quips...] JN: Now I bet you're all waiting for me to get all pretentious and say "I take it back. I've been waiting for this night since the day I was born. This is my _destiny!"_ [He chuckles.] JN: Nah.I mean, I'll be honest. When it comes down to it, I don't think this night is about any of that stuff. Redemption? Love? Pride? Escape? Destiny? [He scoffs at the absurdity of it all.] JN: No, no, no, no, no ... no ... _no!_ [He wipes the palms of his hands down his face and releases a contented sigh.] JN: Looking Bryan Vincent square in the eye and shaking his hand, wrestling with every sliver of mettle, spirit and tenacity I can muster from this small frame of mine with my music blaring loud in a sold-out SPW arena for the first time...... _tonight will be only one thing._ Yep. Win or lose... [The biggest, friendliest, most youthful and heartfelt smile you can imagine.] JN: It'll be my dream come true. [Fade.] _____________________________________________________________________________ |_____________________________________________________________________________| |__ICONOCLASM_________________________________________________________________| "THE DARKMAN" BRYAN VINCENT w. JEFF KEENAN _____________________________________________________________________________ |_________________________________________________________________________SPW_| |_____________________________________________________________________________| [Fade into Bryan Vincent and Jeff Keenan making their way down across the backlot of the San Diego Sports Arena. Keenan is walking comfortably in his powder grey suit, an open white striped collar as his blonde hair is spiked, goatee freshly trimmed and styled. The Darkman walks in a black duster jacket, a black "Afraid of the Dark?" T-Shirt and expensive designer blue jeans, his signature thick black shades masking his eyes from the neon flourescent lighting. Both are adorned in jewelry and the latest fashions, Keenan in his D&G tailored look as Darkman's wrists are wrapped in King Baby silver and platinum. They head for the wrestling ring as it's dark, this is the early morning hours the day of Iconoclasm and no one is there except Bryan Vincent and his mentor. Keenan climbs the steel steps, walking the apron as he steps inside the ring... moving to the center where he's hit the maneuver once feared, now most people don't even remember... and Bryan knees up to sit on the apron, rolling in as he pulls himself to stand, a long time since he was seen in an SPW Arena this side of the Pacific Ocean.....] Bryan: The more things change the more they stay the same... well Jeffrey, it looks like I'm back and ready to do some major damage to the punks of Shootfire Pro who think they can get one over on us. Thankfully the NJWF's misfortune swings the hand of fate in our direction. And we can capitalize on it at the precise time. [Keenan grins, a faraway look in his eyes... as he can almost see the crowds of people cheering for him, chanting his name....] JK: The Golden Boys return to SPW... marked by deafening silence. It's almost appropriate. Bryan: I don't see what you mean. JK: Imagine a time long ago, back when I was relevant, not some, some veteran hero lucky enough to be seen for a charity cause... actually loathed and feared in this ring and respected for my two World title belts. And now Andrew Davis sets to eclipse my record. Bryan: And you swore you'd quit if he does, and retire for good. I remember that. But as far as deafening silence goes... I call it the calm before the storm. [Jeff goes to the turnbuckles, stepping up onto one marked Shootfire Pro in fresh graphic stencil. Stepping up to the second buckle, he stands out, looking out over a vacant crowd of nothingness] JK: I mean by deafening silence. Not by obscurity as that will never apply to me. Not here. I mean because sometimes Bryan, the fans can't go with you. They can't ride with you all the way, they can't follow where you need to go sometimes, to get the job done. Sure as much as they might want to be tough, to have that killer instinct, to rip and tear the laws of God and Man, to do whatever it takes to succeed... they can't. They just can't. But that's why we're the Superstars. Bryan: I don't know what you mean. These fans sure they couldn't follow me to Japan -but they knew I'd be back. That guys like you and me can never truly turn their backs on the sport of kings and walk away. Not until they wheel us out on stretchers and wheelchairs. JK: True... take for example Joshua North. Oh he sounds like he has that fire, he sounds like you. Heck he sounds like me. Once a nobody and now the Executive Vice President of Talent Relations. I went from being the scrub nobody wanted to the man who does the hiring and firing in Shootfire Pro. ...And you know what? It all seems like yesterday. Bryan: Ahh, I'm not really concerned about North. Sure he's good, if he wasn't YOU wouldn't have signed him. But amateur credentials are good, but they don't guarantee a victory over an innovative master like a natural, like me. I've got moves I don't know I have in me, you know that Keenan. [Jeff looks down, grabbing the top rope as he slowly climbs back down to reality, one polished wingtip at a time...] JK: Bryan, I've tried to be a good mentor to you, because I saw something in you from day one. When you were the Jackal, competing for Gionet in SSGC. After that when you got your developmental deal. But never think for one second I've taught you everything I know. [Bryan smiles, looking down and then up again] Bryan: What else is there? JK: ...I almost believe you're ready for it. I almost believe you're ready... but I just don't feel it- not yet. Bryan: Look man, anything you got, I can take. These Invader bastards may have pulled some legal loophole on me but I'm back now, I'm focused on Joshua North. And together SPW can stand and fight against these idiots who are the nothing short of the living dead. Well even zombies can fear the dark, and they will when The Darkman comes for the scraps of what the Shootfire Army leaves laying in their wake. JK: Yes well... sometimes you really need to think about the waking death that is the land of the living. The Shootfire Army has survived like braindead comatose vegetables with all this, this infighting and bickering. Maybe if the Invaders, threatening to pull the plug, finally woke them up and got them going. Because I would have none of it. Leave that to Bonecrusher. Bryan: You can't be serious. They're our family, we need to support them, no matter what. JK: Support them to do what? Their priorities are all backwards, Sammy Knight himself is too proud to let any of the other 30 or so Superstars in SPW defend Shootfire so he's risking our entire fate so he can look good. ...Eddie Christian is a lying, cheating hypocrite who wiped his ass with the Shootfire colors and used the World Title Belt to win at the last show- and the fans cheered him for it. Marissa Monet is only in this to keep herself relevant, she has no real love for SPW other than what it can do for her. James O'Connor is noble, but he's really only on our team because Baldwin broke his own stipulations to kick Spooky Doom out. Bryan: The Invaders are pure scum. JK: Absolutely. But they're ...honest scum. Make no mistake about it, the fate of Shootfire Pro depends on the outcome of the Deathwish Cage Match... but you and I need to be paying close attention because we may all need to be very, very careful going forward. The vaccine... may be more lethal then the plague it was meant to cure. Remember this lesson if nothing else. If you have blood on your hands, and resort to becoming your enemy, even in order to beat them... then you are no better than they are, in fact, you are them and no real friend of mine. Times are changing Bryan... and the best of intentions often lead to the worst of disasters. Bryan: So what do I do? How do I prepare? JK: ....Let's just say maybe fate was smiling when it sent you away to Japan. Bryan: Fate... Or that dickwad JDM Superstar. JK: Well, you never know all that man's motivations. I believe, I believe that you and I, looking from the outside in, will be able to remain as the conscience of SPW, the true lifeblood of nobility and respect to see this company into a new era of growth and expansion. My days in the wrestling ring, they're over. To put on the robe, to walk the aisle, to jump and hit the Quickstryke- that's done with. But now my job is to guide the new Superstars, talent like you. So keep your eyes open, your mind fresh, and take solace knowing that everything we do from here on out, is for the greater good, is for the best of SPW, no matter who ultimately comes out on top. This is a battle here tonight in this very ring.... but the war is just beginning, the war for Shootfire's soul. Bryan: Well if the fans can't follow you, I will. Whatever you need me to do, let's get it done. JK: Hmm, maybe I was wrong. We'll soon find out. In the meantime. Squash this North guy. Bryan: Without breaking a sweat. JK: Now that's the kid I knew had it in him. Bryan: Joshua falls first, I need the practice, and then whoever takes the DCM, they can reign supreme but if they get outta line, they gotta answer to me. Don't worry man, Shootfire Pro Wrestling will be just fine. It's just going to be under a cover of darkness. [Keenan looks back, giving up a whistful grin as he nods and grabbing the top rope, leaps clear over the side to land on the floor, straightening up as he walks up the aisle, hands in pockets. Bryan drops and rolls out, following behind as both men make their way back to the SPW locker rooms] _____________________________________________________________________________ |_____________________________________________________________________________| |__ICONOCLASM_________________________________________________________________| "THE NEW YORK KNOCKOUT" NIKKI JAMES w. "SENSUOUS" SAMANTHA _____________________________________________________________________________ |_________________________________________________________________________SPW_| |_____________________________________________________________________________| [The scene opens up to the luxurious restaurant in The Ivy Hotel in San Diego, California. The camera zooms around to show a high class atmosphere with people dressed to the nines. The crowd seems to be the late evening crowd, all sipping on martinis and having the latest conversation about what famous person from the SPW they saw stroll through the lobby. We zoom forward to show perhaps one of the most infamous minds in wrestling and in the SPW today waiting for someone... "Sensuous" Samantha Bevins. SSB sits to the back of the restaurant at a nice table covered in a white linen tablecloth. SSB wears a sparking blue Dior dress with silver designer heels. Her long blond hair is swept up off her shoulders. Samantha looks around, as if she is expecting someone at any time. SSB sips on her red wine as she spots someone making her way toward her. The camera turns to show "New York Knockout" Nikki James wearing a tight red Oscar de la Renta draped blouse with a pair of black pleated Oscar de la Renta pants and black Valentino pumps. In her hand is a glass of white wine. She approaches the table and takes a seat across from Bevins.] Nikki: Nice choice for a meeting venue. Bartender is a looker and the guy working the door isn't bad on the eyes either. [Samantha nods, a smile creeping across her lovely face.] SSB: Why do I think I sat so close to the bar? Too bad he's married. She's probably old... and ugly. Which means she's not what, Nikki? [She pauses.] SSB: She's not like us. [Nikki laughs] Nikki: If that's the case, he should definitely consider trading up in life. After all, I did... and now look where I am. [Nikki pauses for a second and thinks hard on what she has just uttered] Nikki: Which begs the question, Samantha... _WHY_ am I still working on the pre- show? How many times do I have to put on a demonstration of in-ring skills that no woman in SPW can match before management thinks its wise to let me handle my business in prime time? [Samantha sips her wine, staring at Nikki. SSB shows no emotion whatsoever as she sits back in her chair and crosses her arms.] SSB: Nikki, Rome was not built in a day. Greatness does not come that quick, even to those who are that promising. Do you think The Sensuous One started out on top? [She grins.] SSB: Well, okay, I'm one of the few... but you're right, Nikki, you shouldn't be on that pre-show. Damn Kieran Rae and her politics! You know how uptight that woman is. [Samantha shrugs.] SSB: Maybe we should send the bartender to her room? [Nikki laughs before sipping from her wine] SSB: Anyway, that's enough on her. As for you. You... Nikki... you have a win over the reigning women's champion! You should be in that match against Poet Wright. Not that ingrate, Tiffany Lane. Lane has and always will be a wannabe, Nikki. Can't you see how she wants to be young and beautiful? Can't you see how she wishes she was in your position. You're the ultimate ticket to stardom. You'll have your place soon. Your star will shine. But I am not God... close... but not yet. Nikki: Very well then. If I can't face Poet for the title and upstage Tiffany in the process, then I'll do the next best thing. I'll hurt Tiffany's closest friend. I'll knock out Nina LaRue so hard and so fast that she may wake up and not remember her own name. Hell, I might do her a big favor and knock the ugly right out of her. How's that sound, Sam? SSB: Sounds exciting, Nikki. I'll be there at ringside to witness it all. Will there be blood? Nikki: Blood? (chuckles) By the time _I'M_ through with Nina LaRue, she's going to look like the bad end of a tampon during the heaviest of flows. But I heard there's a third party in this match. As THE best manager in the sport today, you MUST know something about her identity. SSB: Before we get into that... before you make me spoil SPW's surprise and leak it all over the air, let's talk about who YOU think it might be. So, Ms. James... give it your best shot. Nikki: Hmm... if SPW wanted to put on any semblance of a match, especially with me and Nina already signed up, I'd have to think they would throw one of two women in that ring with us. So my immediate guess would be that leathery bitch Kendra Volga or that schizoid freak Iris Galiver. [Nikki takes another sip of her wine. Samantha grins, nodding at Nikki.] SSB: Nikki, each time I see you, you get more bold and egotistical. I think I am finally rubbing off on you. Now, would you feel threatened by either Ms. Volga or Ms. Galiver? I mean... neither one actually possess any talent, do they? Or any talent that would be up to par with yours. Nikki: Bold? Egotistical? Nah. I'm just confident in my god-given abilities. The same abilities that neither Volga or Galiver can claim to. After all, what matches can Kendra Volga ever be remembered for? SSB: None. (feel free to continue with this thought) Nikki: Exactly. And as for Iris Galiver... well she can claim to being the undisputed Womens champion of ICWF. But it don't mean shit if the lights on the company's marquee are burnt out. (chuckles) The only reason she's even returning to SPW is because I'm here and when I get in the ring with her again, things are going to be A LOT different. This time, I've got someone on the outside too. [Nikki sips once more] Nikki: So who's it gonna be then? SSB: Tell ya what -- let's get another round going and I'll spill the news. Anything else you want to say before I get these cameras shoved out of our faces? [Nikki turns and looks right into the camera] Nikki: Nina LaRue... you may be touting some new Japanese inspired moves but I'm from the streets of New York and the gyms of California where none of that crap matters. Come Iconoclasm, you'll find out firsthand why I'M a knockout.... (pause) And you're not! [Samantha Bevins throws a finger in the air to get the bartender's attention while the bar's doorman walks over to usher the camera crew off the premises. And cut] _____________________________________________________________________________ |_____________________________________________________________________________| |__ICONOCLASM_________________________________________________________________| "THE GODDESS" NINA LARUE _____________________________________________________________________________ |_________________________________________________________________________SPW_| |_____________________________________________________________________________| [The scene opens to the home of "The Goddess" Nina Larue. Her husband, Troy Daniel, is sitting in the foyer, tossing glances towards a nearby clock. He's wearing a blue, polo shirt and jeans, finishing the look with boots. He then looks from the clock to the door and back again, a frown on his face.] [Suddenly, there's the sound of footsteps and he stands to his feet with a grin. He turns towards the entrance and is immediately greeted by Nina, clad in a martial arts gi and belt, her feet bare and black hair pulled back into a ponytail. Troy immediately gives her a puzzled look, taking in her attire, as she walks over and gives him a kiss on the cheek.] Troy: I know we said we were going casual, babe. But...this? [Nina sighs and folds her arms across her chest.] Nina: Don't be mad. But I'm not going to brunch. Alison and Jeffrey are coming over and we're going to do some sparring instead. Troy: What? But I thought you were really looking forward to this. Nina: I was. But I'm looking forward to Iconoclasm even more. This is make or break time for me, Troy. [He lets out a laugh.] Troy: Make or break? Don't you think you're being a little dramatic? You're Nina Larue, the freakin Goddess! [She makes a face.] Nina: Which hasn't meant much of anything in Shootfire lately! Troy: What? You're crazy. [She frowns, fixing her gaze on him.] Nina: Am I? Because, last time I checked, I was most famous for simply being Tiffany Lane's BFF and hardly a threat! [She sighs again.] Nina: Look. I love Tiffany to death, but it's no secret that, since Kari left, I've been focused more on repairing our friendship than my career. And it's my own fault. I've made being there for Tiffany and atoning, for the horrible way I treated her, my top priority. But after going to Japan again, I've gotten back that old competitive spirit. And I'm ready to start putting the focus on _me_ and the reason I joined Shootfire, in the first place, namely becoming a champion. I know that I'm on the right path, after my win against Orchid. But I want to keep the momentum going by picking up this next win at Iconoclasm too. [She brushes a stray wisp of hair from her face.] Nina: And the only way to ensure that is to work my butt off to be at my absolute best. So, if that means missing a couple of social gatherings, well, I hope you understand. [Troy lets out a sigh and nods his head.] Troy: Yeah, I do. We've been together long enough for me to know how important all of this is to you. [Nina smiles and leans forward, giving him another kiss.] Nina: Thanks, babe. Troy: Are you sure you want to miss this though? Nina: With Nikki James _and_ a mystery opponent to deal with? You'll bet! I saw how Nikki nearly took Tiffany to the limit. And this mystery woman could pretty much be anybody. So, my best strategy is to be as prepared as possible. Besides, the crew and I have been working on some new tricks and I want to make sure I've perfected them before the show. Troy: Okay, babe. Have fun. [he pauses] You know, it won't be the same without you. Nina: Is it ever? [She flashes a wink and turns to exit, calling over her shoulder as she saunters off.] Nina: I'll see you when you get back. Troy: You know, for making you miss out on this, I hope you _really_ kick their asses! [Fade.] _____________________________________________________________________________ |_____________________________________________________________________________| |__ICONOCLASM_________________________________________________________________| HEATHER OWENS -vs- JESSICA MARSH _____________________________________________________________________________ |_________________________________________________________________________SPW_| |_____________________________________________________________________________| ****DINGDINGDING!!!!**** Tara: Up next we have quite a feature, Jessica Marsh stopping through and Heather Owens wants to be the one to challenge her! Jessica in the ring and ready, determined, forceful as she goes to eliminate Heather Owens from active competition as she knows she beats her down she gets a good look from the SPW management. Have you ever seen such a gruesome look on the face of Jessica Marsh? Vik: No sweetheart, I have not. In fact Heather Owens defiantly standing at ringside and a little reluctant to enter the ring. But she knows this is her big chance has asked for a tryout match of sorts and Heather wants to be the one to show she's no pushover! [Owens rolls inside and gets up with fists locked, as Jessica tells her this is the end of her career. Heather scowls and eyes rolling, nods and flips Jessica off as the fans cheer!! Jessica curses right at her and goes into circling as the San Diego Sports Arena cheers.] Tara: This is not a lovefest. These SOW girls know they'd better step up while they can. Vik: It's kill or be killed apparently and I for one want to see it. The winner could get that coveted spot in our Women's World Title Division... the loser could be regulated to SOW for who knows how long and good luck with that. Tara: Heather and Jessica moving to the center of the ring, Referee calls for the bell! [CROWD CHEERS!!!!!!!!!] Tara: And here we go! Jessica in for the immediate go behind, rear waistlock and Heather struggling to get free- HEEL STOMPS THE FOOT! [Heather turns and socks Jessica with a european uppercut! Marsh grabs her jaw in pain as Owens kicks her low and instantly snaps her up with the suplex! Jessica rolls over as Heather drags her up, copying Jessica as she gives Marsh the waistlock hug and wrenching Jessica up goes for a German Suplex! But Marsh gets the leg inside and rolls forward taking Heather over into a rolling kneebar!] [CROWD BOOS!!!!!!!!!!!!] Tara: No love lost for Jessica Marsh, the spoiled brat as Heather may have to tap! Owens rolling over and grabs into the ropes, able to get out as Jessica slow to release, one, two, three, Jessica releases. Vik: Heather limping up, not a good sign, hurting as Jessica beats her to the punch before she can even get off the ropes! Hey! Owens knocked aside and Marsh now choking her against the top cable!! [The fans boo out as Jessica ignores them and the Referee, hammering forearms into Heather and battering her down the length of the top rope. Marsh drags Owens off, ducking under for the belly to back suplex but Heather hangs on!] Tara: Heather Owens with a back elbow to the teeth, going for a suplex as she pulls that ponytail and Jessica grabs up a leg! Heather with a ENZUGIRI NO! DUCKED! Vik: But Owens lands on her kicking leg and punch! Punch! Punch free! Armwringer on Jessica and set up for the double arm DDT, Marsh backdropping out of it Heather lands on her feet! Whoa! Some training time put into our former broadcast colleague! Tara: Owens racing across the ring, comes back to fly for the face, going for the jawbreaker no! Jessica slinging her right over the top rope!! [HUGE CROWD POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [The crowd roars but Heather lands the apron on her feet and snaps Marsh's head off top rope! Jessica turns around in a daze as Owens springboards off the top with the flying elbowdrop but Marsh is able to drop to her knees and Heather misses! Barely able to land straight, Owens turns around as Jessica lets the superkick fly! Heather dodges leaping sideways and catching the ponytail swings Marsh into a neckbreaker, but Jessica rolls through and catching Owens, tosses her up into the air right but Heather Owens hits the falling Missile Dropkick!!] [CROWD CHEERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Tara: JESSICA BLASTED BACK!! Vik: AND On her ass! And Heather Owens goes to the very top rope! Arm in the air and these fans are cheering!! I am very impressed with the ability and attitude both these women are showing! Tara: Heather Owens a bit unsteady but she wants to fight! JESSICA UP AND CRASHES INTO THE CABLES!! ["OOOOHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!"] Vik: And Heather sat down hard! That'll set your cycle back! Jessica runs up to lock the belly to belly suplex! NOO! HEATHER headbutting Marsh over and over again! Jessica can't hang on! Flies backwards to smash the canvas with her spine! [FANS CHEER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Tara: AND HEATHER WITH THE FLYING SENTON FROM THE TOP ROPE!! [FANS CHEER!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Vik: LANDED HARD DOWN ACROSS MARSH! Jessica hurting! Heather with the cover!! 1!!!! 2!!!!!! Tara: JESSICA Got the shoulder up! Vik: Heather Owens wasting no time in taking her over into the standing headscissors, gutwrench up and spreads the arms over her head- Crucifix Powerbomb NO Jessica with the Sunset Flip!!! [HUGE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] 1!!! 2!!!! Tara: OWENS kicks out! Whew almost had her! Vik: Heather up and Jessica with the irish whip cross corner, giving chase Heather into the buckles NO! Leaps out for the springboard clothesline!! JESSICA WITH THE ARMBAR TAKEDOWN!! [Jessica slams the Crossface Armbar as the audience screams! Marsh rips back wrenching for the patented submission move as Heather kicks and struggles to get out! The Referee leans down, seeing if she'll give as Jessica tries to rip her arm from its socket!!] Tara: Sweat running down the faces of both girls as this is a highly competitive matchup! Vik: True but how much pain can Heather Owens really take!? All that time in the SOW, now we find out what she really has, how much pain she can really take. Tara: If her extensive grueling training is any indication, quite a lot, quite a lot. [Heather reaches, free hand clawing, as she gets her legs around and Jessica pulls back hard, face straining as her eyes are gripped tight! Owen tries to move to get her shoes underneath the bottom rope and the Ref says let go. Jessica refuses, earning a symphony of booing from the audience. Heather yells in anguish as the Ref counts fast, and Marsh releases in anger] [HUGE HEEL POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Tara: Jessica adjusting her ponytail and none too pleased, yelling at Owens to get up! Try as she might she cannot put her fellow SOW competitor away! Vik: No and she's busting out her best work to do so. Marsh really turning things up as Heather having trouble, slow to rise and here comes Jessica with the fist to the face! Hit her hard! [POP!] [Heather goes flailing back as Jessica hits her again with a punishing fist, and leaps for the dropkick! Owens dodges to the side throwing the feet away, and as Jessica rises Heather nails her with a spinning heel kick! Jessica is in a daze as Owens whips her at the ropes, but Marsh is able to reverse and turns sideways to catch Heather for the Tilt a Whirl, tossing Owens around but Heather somehow comes through it with a headscissors takeover!!] Tara: WHOA! Tilt a Whirl Headscissors from Heather Owens whose getting up- Jessica rolling to the floor! Vik: Maybe she's had enough- HEATHER OVER THE SIDE FLYING PLANCHA TAKEDOWN TO THE FLOOR OF THE SAN DIEGO SPORTS ARENA!!!! [CROWD ROARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Tara: And Heather and Jessica laid to waste at the ringside floor! These fans on their feet as Owens somehow kneeing up, the fight in this girl remarkable!! Vik: No I have to say it, I'm impressed. Heather Owens determined to put Jessica Marsh down, and tossing her into the ring! Heather climbing now, up to the top rope, a bit shaky, a bit sore, and definitely favoring that left arm, this may be a bad idea. Tara: I agree, but at least Jessica doesn't know where she is. Vik: Heather standing tall and Jessica crawling up- OWENS FLYING OFF THE TOP FOR THE SITDOWN FACEBUSTER-- ***WWHHHAAAAAAAAMMMM!!!!*** Tara: COUNTERED INTO A SHORT POWERBOMB!! [CROWD ROARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Vik: AND JESSICA STEPPING OVER FOR THE BOSTON CRAB!! MODIFIED PARALYZER! [CROWD ROARING!!!!!!!!!!!] [Heather screams out as Jessica pulls back gripping the legs under her arms as hard as she can!] Tara: Heather being broken in two!! But she will not give up! Jessica straining, saying "Ask her Ref!" but Owens knows no quit! She put her body and mind through so much physical, emotional pain to get where she is today, her brain won't allow her to quit! Vik: True but her body might! This match nearing the time limit, precariously close!! Tara: What will last longer, Heather Owens' desire to survive but she just might be saved by the bell! Vik: None too soon but Heather cannot wait, as she feels every bone in her back being racked full of pain and pure agony, like lightning shooting through her veins. Owens has to get to that rope, must get to that rope, sweat just pouring off her body- and- and- she does! She grabs it! [MASSIVE FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [The fans cheer until Jessica stands and jumps slamming the vertical splash! A huge round of boos rip out from the fans of the Sundown crowd as Heather crawls into the fetal position, her whole body suffering from the pain. Jessica drags her away from the side and drops immediately for the pin!!] Vik: SHE GOT HER!! 1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 3-NOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [CROWD CHEERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Tara: Heather hurt like hell but still able to kick out! Jessica now with a huge opportunity! Dragging up Owens, yells out to the fans and hooks that leg, plus the head for the Fisherwoman's Suplex! Jessica Marsh for the lift but NOOO! Heather blocks! Jessica again, OWENS BLOCKS! Vik: Breaks free and lifting Jessica into the air- SPINNING BRAINBUSTAAAHH!!! [CROWD POPS!!!!!!!!!] Tara: OH GOD! That mighta did it! Jessica hurting, Heather with the head, up kicking up the corner, DRIVES IN THE TORNADO DDT!!! [CROWD CHEERS!!!!!!!!!!!] Vik: Jessica seriously hurting, Heather scowling GUTWRENCHES JESSICA UP- AND POWERBOMBS HER DOWN ON HER KNEE!! SHADES OF IRIS GALIVER!!!! [HUGE FACE POP!!!!!!!!] Tara: Heather dragging Jessica to her feet- steps a leg over her head and BACKWARDS HANDSTAND TO SPIKE MARSH WITH THE HURRACANRANA DRIVER!!! RIGHT ON THE TOP OF HER HEAD!! [Heather stalks around Jessica who's trying to get up, but can't, and turning her head sideways to try and see Marsh's face, Heather asks her if she still wants to fight! Jessica tries to push up, muscles shaking and Owens looks to the fans!] [CROWD CHEERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Vik: Could this be it!? Jessica weakly trying to get up, trying to find it in her and Heather Owens knows now is the time to make a killing if ever before!! Heather has the front facelock and wrenches it in! Choking her out, almost a front chancery! Tara: Jessica rising up, rolls her arm to the fans!! Looking for the win, Jessica laid out, Heather runs and jumps over her! Leaping to the second rope and SAILING BACKWARDS INTO A FULL MOONSAULT!! Vik: AND FULL MOONSAULT, RIGHT INTO A LEGDROP DOWN ACROSS MARSH!!!!!! WOW!!!!!!!!!!!! [CROWD ROARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Tara: AND JESSICA MARSH IS OUT! [The fans cheer as Heather sits on Jessica, pulling one leg straight up!] 1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 3!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Stone: AND YOUR WINNER!! HEEEEAAAAAAATHER! OWENNNNSSSS!!!!! [CROWD CHEERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Vik: Well Heather Owens brought everything she had to the table and was able to outlast Jessica Marsh, she will be the one with her hand held high and her victory recorded in the rulebooks! Owens celebrating her first major win and these fans applauding the former broadcast journalist, now well on her way to becoming an SPW Superstar!! Tara: I for one have to say I'm very impressed, I thought for a few times too numerous to mention that she was done for but I am happy to report I was wrong, Heather able to pull it out and show off some real wrestling training thanks to Marcus Davis and the Dream Factory, ladies and gentlemen your first winner of the night, Shootfire Developmental Deal none other than our former broadcast partner colleague the lovely And talented Ms. Heather Owens!! [Heather is leaning over the side, barely able to stand as her arm is still high in the air! The fans are cheering out as the blonde wrestler drops to her knees, rolling out of the ring as she goes to the crowd and hugs the first fans she can reach! The audience in San Diego is cheering as Heather slaps hands with the capacity crowd, making sure to do a full loop around the ring and thanking her fans for their support] Vik: A class act and I hope she gets that nod, talk about heart and determination, now that's what ya have to bring to an ultra competitive organization like Shootfire Pro Wrestling!! Only the best need apply here!! Tara: Heather Owens with a huge showing and SPW Iconoclasm's OTC continues next!! _____________________________________________________________________________ |_____________________________________________________________________________| |__ICONOCLASM_________________________________________________________________| THE BLACK MASS - KASADY _____________________________________________________________________________ |_________________________________________________________________________SPW_| |_____________________________________________________________________________| [We see GVZ sitting down outside his New Jersey home. The Kasady mask is in his hands. He's not happy. Being tethered to a psychotic persona and being forced into the Black Mass tends to leave one a bit... angry.] GVZ: You know, when one gets forced into doing something outside ones' comfort zone, one tends to get a little angry. Getting paired up with Marissa Monet, facing my mentor and then being forced to a join a stable I want no part in. Yeah, it does tend to leave one a little... bitter. [He gives the camera that all too familiar, "you know what I'm talking about." look.] GVZ: Not only that but now my mentor -- who has not answered or returned any of my calls -- have to take on three other teams, of which I could be fucked to remember as I have not been paying any form of attention to this place in sometime. But hey, when the roster feels the need to team up on me and do a breakfast club book reading on how I cut a god damn promo, then by fucking god.. gah, can't even remember what I was gonna say. Probably something lame and contrite that Spooky Doom would pick apart with his great analytical insight. [He sighs a sigh of a man frustrated.] GVZ: I tried to be that nice guy that everyone could get behind. That guy who would stand up to the ones that would hold the other down and look where it has gotten me? No where. Just stuck wondering where the hell is my career gonna go and where things are gonna take me. [Still feeling the pains of frustration, he runs his hands through his hair.] GVZ: And with Iconoclasm here, my Fusion title shot is in the hands of Quinn Scott. The man can barely keep me awake during his promos and he gets a shot over ME? Victor Frost represents everything that is wrong with wrestling as a whole and people laud his borderline Hitler-esqe promos with the end tag line: Praise Violence, Priase the Black Mass. Can we sound anymore like a cult? But the Sheep just go along with it. And dare I mention where I come from. Dare I mention that I wasn't home grown in the land of movie-like vignettes and snappy, sellable t-shirt print one-liners. How dare I. How dare I be different. How dare I try to break from the mold and be something else. Something worth seeing. But... whatever... then want to shunt me down the card, so we can see more of that oh-so-original crap then so be it. I'll take my licks. I'll keep coming. I'll be the anti-establishment figure I set out to be. In or out of the ring, it doesn't matter to me. If I have to win the tag titles by myself. Then so be it. If I have to become the poster child for violence. I can do that. Praise the violence. [GVZ pulls his Kasady mask up, and raises it to block out the monitor, pulling the dark blue cowl down over his face….] “Praise Me.” [The camera just focuses in on Kasady as it slowly fades out.] _____________________________________________________________________________ |_____________________________________________________________________________| |__ICONOCLASM_________________________________________________________________| THE BLACK MASS - LIERMANN _____________________________________________________________________________ |_________________________________________________________________________SPW_| |_____________________________________________________________________________| [Scene fades up. Cold. We see a shot of SPW Superstar and Black Mass member, "Sadistic" Steve Liermann, against a white wall. He is wearing a dark grey button-down shirt. His hair is gelled into a spike.] Liermann: Quite a bit has happened as of late, involving The Black Mass. The biggest move is that Gabriel Van Zahn has been assimilated. After Gabriel lost his matchup against the SPW Fusion Champion, "Violent" Victor Frost, and was required to adhere to the stipulation of the match. And that was to "join" The Black Mass. Everyone knows that. What people do NOT know is what happened after the cameras were shut off. After Conquest came to an end. [Liermann takes a breath.] Liermann: The fact of the matter is this. Gabriel Van Zahn, now known as Kasady, is a member of The Black Mass. Darkside Clyde is a member of The Black Mass. "Sadistic" Steve Liermann is a member of The Black Mass. And "Violent" Victor Frost is a member of The Black Mass. That is all that anyone needs to know. The collection of talent that resides within our ranks is unmatched. [Liermann reaches off camera and grabs a bottle of water. He twists off the cap and takes a drink from the bottle of water. He places it back down off-camera.] Liermann: The Black Mass will definitely be a part of Iconoclasm. According to the marks on the Internet, no one thinks that we have a chance at being victorious. Evidently, it is time to prove some people wrong. I could go through and spout off about metaphorical things and how this Tag Team Championship Match that I am involved in, at Iconoclasm will be a war, with all parties involved. Honestly, that's not my purpose. I don't feel the need to speak in cryptic phrases. I'm not here to pander to the marks on the Internet or the kids that think they know the inner workings of this business. [Liermann looks down for a second and then looks back through the camera.] Liermann: Everyone knows that the Tag Team Title Match at Iconoclasm will be something that is talked about for quite some time. That's not news to anyone. And of course, I will put on my boots. I will get geared up. And I will prepare to go out there and cause carnage that has yet to be seen in SPW. That is what I have always done. That is what is expected of me. But not because I have to do it. It is because I want to do it. I need to do it. [Liermann snickers and looks back into the camera as it zooms in on his face.] Liermann: Part of the draw of this business is to amplify everything. To make wrestlers appear larger than life. So, most wrestlers have gimmicks. You all know this. [Liermann laughs.] Liermann: I HAD a gimmick back when I started in this business. And then, after all the Broken Glass, the thumbtacks, the barbed wire, the scorpions and piranhas... something occured to me. The gimmick that I "chose" wasn't a gimmick at all. Underneath it all, right down to my core... I enjoy inflicting pain on people and making people suffer. So no matter what the cost. The payoff is well worth the price. [The camera zooms back out to a bust shot, as Liermann grabs the bottle once more and takes another drink from it.] Liermann: So that's why I'm cutting this promo for Iconoclasm as I am. No special effects. No eerie backdrops. No gimmicks needed. Just a camera on a tripod in front of me, with a plain wall behind me. No music to amplify the mood. No graphics to pop out at the viewer. Just Steve Liermann... being Steve Liermann. [Liermann nods affirmatively.] Liermann: And at Iconoclasm, it will be business as usual. I will go in and I will do what I have done for years. And that is to hurt people. By any means necessary. Team EGO, O'Malleys, Deadbeats...The names always change. I mean, after all, I was a part of a replacement team for this matchup. As for the other six men in this match... at the end of the day, the score remains the same, there are two kinds of people in this world. There's one standing put in his proper place. And the one with his foot in the other one's face. Take a look in the mirror. You will see which one you are. [The camera zooms back in on Liermann's face.] Liermann: I know what I am. The key question is... do you? Or is everything that you BELIEVE... a LIE? Take a look at that word. Believe. Remove the first two letters and the last two letters. And you have your answer. You don't have to lie to yourself, or anyone around you. But know, deep down inside. The six unfortunate opponents at Iconoclasm. The SPW locker room. The viewers watching this right now. Everyone. [Liermann's face develops a sneer.] Liermann: So it was written...and so it must be... RESISTANCE... ...IST... ...VERGEBLICH!! [Screen fades... to black.] _____________________________________________________________________________ |_____________________________________________________________________________| |__ICONOCLASM_________________________________________________________________| THE DEADBEATS _____________________________________________________________________________ |_________________________________________________________________________SPW_| |_____________________________________________________________________________| Narrator: From their debut... [Black and white: we open to a flashback of the Deadbeats taking on the Cali Connection, the Eddie Christian Experience and Volga & Monet! It's their first match as a team and already their teamwork is flawless, hitting quick double team moves, with Spooky crashing into Eddie C. with a forward rolling senton from the top, rocking out in the ring but just missing the final pin by mere seconds!] Narrator: To their numerous wars... [Deadbeats vs Team EGO at Ringu Faia, putting it all on the line! They perform extreme techniques, pull off finishing maneuvers after finishing maneuvers only to receive an unsatisfying victory via count-out. Black and white slow-mo footage captures the truly death-defying dive from Spooky Doom that takes out Owen Cage through the tower of tables!!] Narrator: They have left their mark on competitive tag team wrestling... [Colt Montana is elected the Union Boss for the tag team division despite Owen Cage's ranting objections... Union Jeffe Colt Montana repealing the freeze towards World title defenses for the greater excitement of the fans, until the recent strings of misunderstandings towards the tag titles leaves watchers unable to account whom the true champions are until the 8 belt tag title match at Iconoclasm!] Narrator: And now it's time for the dead to claim their prize!!! [We fade into full color: Spooky Doom and Colt Montana, the Deadbeats working hard training towards their ultimate battle! Colt Montana in the background, building up his stamina and agility with some quickrope jumping while Spooky Doom does some actual in-ring practice, taking on 2 wrestlers at once and hitting them with all he's got!] Colt: Spooky, amigo! Slow down, dude!! SLOW DOWN!!! [The Grim Avenger of Lucha Libre isn't listening, catching one wrestler with a backbody drop that's turned into a Crypt-onite Crunch, rushing across the next wrestler: duck-down into a Crypt-onite Crunch! The hired help are laid out but that isn't stopping Doom: (un)deadlifts one of the bodies unto his shoulders for another (you guessed it!) Crypt-onite Crunch!!!] Colt: Spooky man, those are head-drop martinetes you're doing!!! [Spooky Doom is in his zone: propping up the other body against the corner and snapping repeated kicks at the chest and torso, never letting up, not even slowing down!!! It comes to a point that even Colt has to rush in and stop his partner!] Colt: SPOOKY STOP IT! [Only for Spooky Doom to mechanically prop his partner up on his shoulders in a fireman's carry, maneuvering his own partner in the correct position for another Crypt-onite Crunch! Colt is shaking and shouting as he flails his arms and legs, Spooky Doom spinning around and round!! Colt screeches!!!] Colt: SPOOKY THE DOOM!!!!!! [And then realization sets in...] Spooky: Oh God... [And Spooky Doom lets his tag partner down...] Spooky: Sorry Colt, I was just practicing my Crypt-onite Crunches... That's all. Just didn't see you, that's all. Need to get ready for Iconoclasm, that's all. Colt: Esse you know be the smart man Colt knew and he like. Ever since La Shootfire Army kick Spooky The Doom off Team SPW he know be using his senses. Now Colt, he know exactly what you be going through, he used to be part of the NRK and he feel left behind too. But you need to focus amigo, you need to get your head right and not let problemos get to you... otherwise you be very upset by people like Andrew Davis. Spooky: Lucky roll-up, won't happen again; that's all. Colt: Who you think you fight at the pay per view? The O'Malley Hermanos? Team EEEEEEEEGO? The Negro Mass? O La Shootfire Army? Hmmm? Colt Montana he may not know much, but he know it when he see it, you were distracted by Bonecrusher T-Shirts and you take eyes off Andrew Davis. Mira Mira! That's why you lose to Davis, no because you be anything other than completely distracted. And at Iconoclasm you no can do that otherwise we already lose. [It takes a while for the rage-filled eyes of Spooky Doom to settle down. Clarity of mind doesn't come easy, but this is where the many weeks of fighting as the Deadbeats comes in, allowing Spooky Doom to finally trust his tag partner and his words of wisdom.... Until Colt Montana drops a bucket of cold water on Spooky's head!!!!] ***SSSPPPPLLLLAAAAAAAAAAAAASSHHHHHHHHHHH*** Spooky: eeeeee-yeah!!! Don't think I needed that! [It's a soaking wet Spooky Doom that continues the promo.] Spooky: I'm sorry Colt, but I just can't let go of the fact I fought harder than anyone else to represent SPW; all to see it go to waste by the propped-up machinations of Barry Baldwin. Hell, I'm most probably the reason why none of them are facing a crazy eye-gouging psychopath; but do I get a thank you??? NOOOOooo!!! This match would've made me, Colt. This match would've proved to everyone; the fans, the wrestlers and everyone in between... That Spooky Doom isn't just some joke you play around with, but the most dangerous and influencial wrestler in Shootfire Pro Wrestling right now! Colt: Spooky, I know, I was there I saw with my eyes. [D'AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!] Spooky: I know whom I'm facing at Iconoclasm. I've fought Team EGO enough times to know what they're about, and defending their belts isn't one of those things!!! We've been with the O'Malleys as well: they're rough and tough but we're luchadors through and through, superstars of the ring! We treat wrestling like our passion, we grew up doing all the moves the O'Malleys are using today! Add to that the team of Steve Liermann and Kasady... Colt: Those guys no pay their Union Dues. Spooky: They sure didn't, Union Jeffe! Kasady under any other name is just another prick waiting for his taste of the Crypt-onite Crunch! He can make fun of the Grim Avenger of Lucha Libre all he wants, but getting a win over me is another thing entirely! Meanwhile, Steve Liermann needs to learn that anyone can just step on necks (in fact, I think I got a double stomp move similar to that myself); but stepping UP as a champion of the ring... That takes a different breed of a human being!!! Colt: It takes some LUCHA LUCHA, where wrestling is a way of life! We no hit people with pipes! Spooky: And a sense of purpose from beyond the grave... Good thing we're the Deadbeats!!! [Double pose! They're not even acknowledging whether there might be a camera or not: the pose is just something you do when you close off a speech like that! Colt puts his leg down and pauses... staring as he CHOPS Doom across the chest!] ***SSSSSSSSSSSSSMMMMMMACK!!!!!!!*** Spooky: YOOWWW!!!!!!! Colt: THAS WHAT I LIKE TO HEAR AMIGO! [Turning to the camera as Doom staggers back clutching his chest, Colt gets in cclose to the picture, his shoulders heaving, staring through his black and white Deadbeats mask... a low somber tone beginning to move through his voice] Colt: Hey Hey Human Suckers, you all need to hear my words y smell my breath. Team EGO, I respect you, yes I do but I put bullets in your head. O'Malley Hermanos, you two are two of the best. Two of the best this sport he ever seen... Kasady y Liermann, Colt he know live under rock. He know exactly what The Black Mass is capable of. But Deadbeats yes they may be down now. They may be hurting, they may be buried the six feet under. But no of the 9 of you can keep us in the grave for long. Come Iconoclasm, we have a real Day of the Dead, as you and the rest of SPW find out exactly who and what true LUCHA LUCHA is all about!! Because you no kill what's already dead. And Spooky Doom, Colt Montana, we are coming to the pay per view to the 8 Belt World Tag Team Ladder Titles Match to not only show you what we do, not only to do it better than you, but to have fun doing it.... [Colt holds out his hand as the Mexican version of the World Tag Team Titles come flying in, one missing as Spooky snatches it out of the air, spinning around to hold it like an air guitar, and Colt catches the other without looking. Raising it up, he holds the gold in front of the camera, the red, white and green bars emblazoned across the front visible in a vertical stripe] Colt: YOU see? You can no take away what we already have. As far as I concerned, I y Spooky are the Real World Tag Team Hhampione's.... and you can try to take away our respect, what we've earned, and how far we've come... you can treat us like throwaway stepchildren when we no conform to what you want us to be. But that not our loss. That our win because WE KNOW WHO WE ARE. You? The SPW? Hahaha, you can be lost in the land of the living, but the true Luchadors, the best wrestlers in the game today, we stand in time immortal... we stand together united and we know we do whatever it take to rise from the dead... and break your freakin head!! Hey Spooky, Spooky!!! Let me say it this time! Spooky: Oh come on! [Colt smiles, hefting the World Tag Team Title over his shoulder] Colt: Because at Iconoclasm, the Deadbeats... They is going to kick our burro, and be your mariachi band of DOOOOOOM, play our guitarron the Rock n Roll!! Spooky: Close enough.... AND WE'RE GONNA TAKE YOUR SOULS!!!! Colt: SI! YOUR SOULS!!!!! [And they fade... Spooky Doom needs to get a towel and dry off or something.] _____________________________________________________________________________ |_____________________________________________________________________________| |__ICONOCLASM_________________________________________________________________| TEAM EGO _____________________________________________________________________________ |_________________________________________________________________________SPW_| |_____________________________________________________________________________| [The camera fades into... an autograph session with your heroes... TEAM... EGO!!! The scene shows Shane Diamond and Owen Cage, your TRUE tag team champions, sitting at a booth somewhere... maybe Barnes and Noble. The illustrious team is hyping Iconoclasm for fans everywhere. And there are swarms of them. Women, men, children. It's insane. As we close in, we see Miss Jasmine standing behind the twosome with her arms crossed over her chest in a bodyguard like position. Jasmine is wearing a pair of black leather pants and a brand new EGO tank top. Shane Diamond sits at the table wearing jeans, a blue EGO T-shirt, and a pair of black Gucci shades. His short brown hair is spiked up in the front. Owen Cage wears a white EGO T-Shirt and his green neon EGO water bottle is standing proudly nearby. He has white sunglasses on as to not have to make direct eye contact with his legions of fans. The crowd begins to rile up as a woman pushes her way through the crowd. She's wearing a tight hot pink spandex dress, and she's got her fake Louis Vutton purse with her long green fingernails. She screams at Shane, waving her arms around frantically.] WOMAN: YO SHANE!!! I LOVE YOUS!!! YOUS MY BABY DADDY!!! [Shane looks shocked.] SD: What?!! WOMAN: YOU OWES ME CHILD SUPPORT FOR THREE YEARS!!! SD: No I ain't yo baby daddy! This daddio ain't go no babies!!! [Irate, Jasmine steps forward to perhaps knock the woman's lights out but she is taken by security. Diamond looks at Jasmine, his ego getting bigger by the second.] SD: Babe, I can't help it, they love The Diamond. [Miss Jasmine rolls her eyes and resumes her position. Diamond looks to Cage, smiling from ear to ear.] SD: Bet that's never happened to you before, partner. [Owen lifts his sunglasses so he can roll his eyes and lowers the shades again.] OC: If I had a dime for every ringrat that wanted a piece of my genetic material I'd have two dimes. But you see Shane, this is what the life is like when you have the fans come to sign autographs for them, when they come to buy your T-Shirts and to quench their thirst outta your likeness... for years I thought it was money, I thought it was fame, but no, it's more than that Shaney Shane Shane, it's all about the giving back. [Owen scribbles off an autographed headshot and tosses it to the rabid crowds.] OC: And if my name, my signature, can make these people happy well, then that's the least I can do. See, these days, everyone knows times are tough and if Team EGO can bring a ray of sunshine, while we're on our quest to become TWO TIME TWO TIME TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS OF THE WORRLLLD... why then we're ready to step up and embrace what we've loathed from oh these so many years. The fans. SD: Fans, fans... watch them line up. Watch them line up... for TEAM... [he pauses] EGO. They line up for us and expect us to sign their damn t-shirts, take pictures with their f'n kids. What the hell? They say I'm their baby daddy, and I say... enough! I ain't yo baby daddy! I... am only Jazzy's daddy! [Shane smiles fully, looking back as Jasmine who cracks a small smirk at him. He turns back to look at all the fans.] SD: Look at all these fans. These fans of the Extremely Great Ones. We are Gods, Owen. Godly gods. OC: Oh quite right, quite right. SD: Extremely great godly gods!! OC: Indubidabaly. SC: Indub... what? [shaking his head] Whatever that means, we're the best. And we have proven that... again... again... and again. That's why these fans are here! That's why these fans.... they love us! OC: And I agree. Because we have a responsibility to these women, hot ones especially, who want to sleep with us and the kids who wish we were their fathers, and yes even the men who wish they were us. It's called being a rolemodel. It's called being better than they are- but not lording it over them no... it's called great power comes with even greater responsibility, to lead them, to show them, to show them the right of way and demonstrate perfection in everything we do, know and say, and especially wrestle inside that ring such as our 8 Belt Ladder Elimination Match. SD: We've got this. We've got this match won because Owen, let's face it... we have no competition. No one in SPW can match up to TEAM... EGO!!! No one! We are the ratings of SPW. We are the icing on the cake! Without us, these fans, they'd never see a spot of talent. They'd have to watch Spooky Doom jerk Colt Montana off every week! They'd have to watch the O'Malley's walk around in circles because the morons can't even find their locker rooms! Yeah! They'd have to watch... OC: Hang on... [Owen Cage takes up his sharpie and not seeing a headshot in a woman's hand, instead grips her arm to pull it across the table and signs that instead. The fan leaves, bemused and shaking as Owen sits back, contented and impressed once again, with himself.] OC: And to think we didn't get on this charity kick long ago. Think of all the wars that could have been prevented, all the diseases that could have been cured, all the commandments that could have been preserved had people had the charitable and giving spirits like we do. In fact, I feel so gracious that I- [Suddenly, a huffing oversize fan in a fanny pack and pink shorts, stomach hanging out over his pack lumbers up, huffing and sweating underneath his Spooky Doom mask. Team EGO look instantly like Gods and Adonises in comparison. The man holds out his Deadbeats poster and asks in a nasal voice.] Magnoliafan69: Excuse me fellows, but isn't this where The Undead Superstar and his Mexican Amigo will be signing at 2:30 PM? OC: I'm sorry my friend, that's at the WaWa across from Herb's Chickenshack on Portsmouth. This is for the winner's circle and the better professional wrestlers.... Magnoliafan69: Ha well, I hardly believe that, as you can't even pull off a successful Space Flying Tiger Drop, I wrote on my blog last weekend that you'd be lucky to pull in a paltry three and a half stars at Iconoclasm with your average at best workrates. SD: WTF? Listen here, dude, you're definitely messing with the wrong peeps up in this bitch! That's right. [nodding] That's right! OC: Now now, our morbid smelling trash compactor for a fan has a point. When was the last time You pulled off five freakin snowflakes in a wrestling match Shane!? SD: Listen here you fat sonuvabitch, I'm one of the best wrestlers in this promotion! I rock the socks off every damn opponent that we go into the ring with! Did you see what I did to that O'Malley punk last week?! Did you! Did you?! OC: Too true, too true. Excuse me sir, you're on the um, the Internets right. Magnoliafan69: Yes sir I blog under my name perhaps you've seen my Youtube Channel- OC: Greatgreatsexycoolwowterrific. Now you you're what, in your mid-30s and probably live with Grandma but aside from contributing nothing to our society, ya do know that our target demographic is really 14-25? As are the majority of our merchandise buyers you see all these T-Shirts, posters and water bottles? Well, riddle me this... if you're NOT in our target demographic... not in our Neilsen Ratings audience... then we don't really perform just for you. Magnoliafan69: But- OC: Yeah and I've never had any 14 year old kid come up to me and complain about my workrate, have you Shane? SD: Never. Uh, 16-year-olds maybe... but never a 14-year-old! OC: So. Tell ya what, since you're such a good fan, why don't I do you a favor. Let me have that Deadbeats poster, and I'll sign it- [Owen Cage signs it TEAM!! The fan reaches out but Owen holds up a hand to pause him, and handing it over, Shane signs it "EGOOO!!!!" -to which Diamond hands it back to the confused fan.] OC: There. Just doubled your product value, so go laminate that and hang onto it, you know like when you play with your SPW dolls while they're still in the box. Go on, scurry home and don't forget to order us on PAY PER VIEW!! Bye now! [Turning to Shane.] OC: Space flying tiger drop, I oughta punt someone. What about your workrate Shane? SD: I got bad knees!! OC: I don't WANT bad knees. Next!? [A beach blonde girl steps forward, tight O'Malley's t-shirt, short skirt, hanging out everywhere. Diamond and Cage trade glances before looking at the girl who is obviously holding an O'Malley's shirt she would like to be signed. She jumps up and down... up and down!] SLUT GIRL: Likeohmygawd! Totally! For sure! I like... I think OMG... that like... OMG... I want a big O'Malley dic- [Before the slutty girl can finish Diamond holds up his hand. He examines the girl up and down, down and up... sure he finds her attractive, but anyone who wants an O'Malley you-know-what must be INSANE!!!] SD: You want a what? SLUT GIRL: Like... OMG... an O'Malley coc- SD: No! Never say that again! No one would EVER want to sleep with an O'Malley! Don't you understand... don't you understand that Team EGO are the sexy bitches of the tag division? I mean c'mon... ugh... aw... I'm sick. O'Malley coc... I can't say it. Owen, take this one. OC: Well, see, how old are you? SLUT GIRL: 17- OC: Yeah well haha come see us in a year. Er sorry Jasmine, me. But in the mmeantime I hate to tell you. I hate to say it but since you just seem like the Apple of your father's eye, who, probably never really paid you the love and attention you wanted your entire life right? SLUT GIRL: Um- my Dad's in jail... OC: Tremendous. Tremendous. And let me guess, your Mom, and maybe Dad? Both Drink a lot eh? Probably in and out of AA, probably have a ton of 30 day chips in the ole ashtray but never can quite get to that elusive green Year chip? SLUT GIRL: ...My Mom is doing much better... OC: And let me guess... lots of pictures of JESUS hanging everywhere in the house right? Crucifixes on the walls? Yes? Am I right? Yeahh that's the first sign of someone who's totally lost forever. It's a shame. SD: Totally a shame. OC: Tragic. [Leaning forward with hand over hand.] OC: Little lady, let me let you in on one thing about your heroes The O'Malley Brothers... for all their talent, for all their hoopla, for all their journeyman famous careers getting title belts in feds that don't matter and never will... yeah they're really just raving drunks. Alcoholics. Loons. The only reason they even keep their jobs is because SPW is willing to sign off their parole sheets at their AA meetings every week when most bigtime feds won't even touch them. And I hate to say it little lady, but your heroes? They probably won't live till age 40. Now I know. Rolemodels are in horrid shortage these days, when you've got the most popular wrestlers in the world more in love with their booze, their coke, their pills and their druggie alcholic ways then reality and you. You their real fan, you the common strumpet who just wants to be loved. [Shane wipes a tear from his eye.] OC: Well let us tell you O'Malley fans one thing if you learn nothing else today. No matter how big that void between your legs get it will never be eclipsed by the void in your soul. Not by alky losers like Jim Bean and Jack Daniels no matter how foreigner kitchy they talk. I'm sorry -but there's 12 Steps to recover from being an O'Malley Brothers fans. And the first, is say it with me Shane... [Owen smacks Shane in the ribs and both lower their heads as the girl looks completely confused, but does the same.] OC: Lord, grant me the power to accept the things I cannot change, like The O'Malley Brothers alcohol deluded visions of grandeur, and have the courage to change the things I can, like becoming the TWO TIME TWO TIME TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS OF THE WORLD!! AAAMMMMEEENN!! SD: The World. OC: So let me sign those real quick. [Owen reaches up, and makes sure to sign her chest with the benevolence of a real rolemodel, virtuous and true. Shane stands up and Miss Jasmine grabs his shoulder and sits him right down again... hard. Owen sits down, grinning like a bandit.] OC: And now you be on your way. Remember kids!! Think of Team EGO and DOUBLE IT UP when you go a-whorin!! Alright Shane, man Barack Obama has nothing on community organizers like we are. We do good work. We do. SD: What's a Barack Obama? OC: Are you kidding me? SD: Is it a type of car? OC: ... SD: I KID! You see, everyone knows who Barack Obama is. Just like everyone knows who TEAM... EGO!!! is. This leads me to ask you the most important question of the day. ...who the hell is the fourth team anyway? OC: Der, SD: Who?? OC: Ummmmmmmmm... Errr..... GEEEE.....UMMMMMM.... hmmmm... Oh Yeah! Liermann and Kasady..... Kasady. SD: Never heard of 'em. OC: Yeah might... might as well get that outta the way.... [He pauses, and standing up, cups his hands over his mouth.] OC: ARE THERE ANY LIERMANN OR KASADY FANS THAT ARE HERE TODAY!? (fan in the back of the line): ....who? [Sitting back down.] OC: Oh. Lovely. SD: Uh. [Are there crickets chirping?] OC: Well I ain't signing any tumbleweeds. SD: I got this Dude. [Shane Diamond climbs up onto the table, stepping off his chair to stand on the tablecloth as he raises up rolls of Team EGO posters and sundry merchandise!] SD: WHO WANTS TO DOUBLE YOUR MONEY'S VALUE!? TEAM EGO WILL AUTOGRAPH ANY AND ALL OF YOUR SPW MERCHANDISE!!! GO AHEAD! BRING IT UP! MAKE IT WORTH SOMETHING!!! TELL YOUR KIDS!! [The fans rush up to have their merchandise worth more than double in value!! Mobbing the table like psychohungry fanatic fans, they wave and cheer, pulling off their Superstar T-Shirts, jumping and yelling as Shane signs as many items as he can!! Owen Cage carefully moves his feet away from Shane, leaning back with hands cradled... he nods to Miss Jasmine who is none too pleased with the overwhelming Security threat. Cage grins and shaking his head, points to the camera as a fan whirls around in the forefront, T-Shirt stuck on his head] OC: Doubling Your pleasure and Doubling the Value of any title match we're involved in. Because we're givers. And after Iconoclasm SPW, YOUR New TWO TIME... Shane: TWOOOO TIIIIIME!!! OC: Tag Team Champions of the World. Team EGO. Signing out. [Owen Cage goes back to smiling at the thunderous din of waving fans as Shane Diamond marches across the table, signing body parts and shirts as Cage grins out. Fade.] _____________________________________________________________________________ |_____________________________________________________________________________| |__ICONOCLASM_________________________________________________________________| QUINN SCOTT _____________________________________________________________________________ |_________________________________________________________________________SPW_| |_____________________________________________________________________________| [As the camera fades in, we are treated to the shot of an expansive mansion, almost Victorian in its design, but we don't stay on its exterior for long... as we fade into a shot of a large bedroom. This room is filled with several luxurious comforts: a four-poster bed, a 52-inch High Definition Flat-Screen television, a pair of corinthian leather couches, a walk-in closet, if only to have a handful. Style and opulance at its finest.] [At one of the room's windows, there is a man staring out the window. Dressed rather formally in a designer three-piece suit, his arms are simply hanging by his side, like dead weight. His hair appears to be pulled back into something that's a cross between a top-knot and a pony-tail. He doesn't make a single sound as he stands, not even a loud exhale of air through his nostrils... *knock knock* ...but the tranquility is broken by the knocking and opening of a door. Standing in the doorway is an older gentlemen, dressed in a three-piece suit himself, and looking over at the other gentleman standing by the window. He clears his throat before he speaks.] Older Gentlemen: Your pardon, Master Quinn, but the car has arrived. [In case you were still rubbing your temples in disbelief, the man at the window turns around, and we catch a view of his face... those emotionless, sunken-in, gray eyes are a dead giveaway.. it is, in fact, Quinn Scott. He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a pair of sunglasses, putting them on before walking towards the door, giving the other gentlemen a slight nod of his head as he passes him. He makes his way down the hallway in a hurried fashion before coming to the doors of the home and walks through them, heading towards the Bentley that is waiting for him. The waiting chauffeur opens the door for him as he slips inside, and then the door closes, and the driver makes his way to his spot.] [As we cut inside the car, Quinn slips his sunglasses off and places them back inside of his jacket, and turns his head slightly to meet the camera... which seems to have the shakiness of a hand-held camcorder... before looking back ahead, speaking in his eerie monotone.] QS: We have some time before we get there, Shootfire... and you, Frost. So we may as well have a little chat about events that were and that will be. We'll start with you, Shootfire... and your little crusade to rid yourself of that invasive nuisance. [There's a little sting attached when he says the word 'invasive.'] QS: I said before that you were pathetic, Shootfire... and all you did was reaffirm that. I don't know who or what Spooky Doom is, except that he was supposed to represent you in the Death Wish Cage. He was supposed to fight along side Sammy Knight, Marissa Monet, and Eddie Christian to help you... he 'earned' the right, after all. ...but you said no, Shootfire. Did he commit some dire sin? Did he sell you out to the others? What did he do that was so drastic? ...nothing, near as I can tell. ...you just don't seem to like him. [An audible snort of air is heard, and Quinn shakes his head before looking at the camera, shaking as the car continues to drive.] QS: You can't even stand the people in your own ranks, Shootfire, and you really expect to come out of this smelling like a rose patch. It's funny enough... you've already lost your dignity... you've lost your pride... you've lost a good amount of respect... all that's left is for the "Invaders" to take away your reputation and your identity... and you can't even settle on one full team. You can't even garner enough support from your own ranks to stand against them, and you still expect to win... ...but you won't. ...because you already lost. [Quinn's nostrils dialate and he blinks in a deliberately slow fashion.] QS: Although the "Invaders" should do well to remember that, no matter what happens, they are STILL... Shootfire Property. All they can do is say they're the supposed 'New Guard,' and that they came from a sinking ship of a promotion... well done, them... but all in all, no one can really win this match. You'll all just end up humiliating yourselves trying to. [For an instant... for the briefest of instants... if you concentrate really hard, and you saw it... you notice Quinn's lips curling up into the smallest and briefest of smiles, before retreating back to his straight-lipped visage.] QS: Sometimes, I can live with other people doing my work for me. [Quinn then finally looks away from the camera and leans back into the posh leather seat of the car. He closes his eyes and leans his head back.] QS: Victor Frost. I'm not so blind as I don't know your mindset going into this fight... but can you tell mine? Oh yes, I'm planning on hurting you as best as I'm able, but I want to remind you of something. Winning has never been a goal of mine. ...ever. [He slowly opens his eyes and looks over to the camera again, never lifting his head.] QS: My goal is to hurt you... and there are so many ways I can do it, and there are so many ways to blend them all together to keep you guessing. I could rip that title from your grasp like a spoiled child would a toy from their sibling... I could simply destroy you physically, snapping your limbs like twigs and fucking your spine up so hard, you'll make Montgomery Burns look like he's got perfect posture... I could take everything you throw at me, Victor, and get right back up, defying you to actually take more drastic measures... I could simply lie down and make all your effort look like you simply being a sadistic asshole and a waste of time. ...or I could do none of that. ...or all of it. [He lifts his head up, and faces the camera again.] QS: I never went into that rumble to win, Victor. I could care even less about this match, but it opens such an opportunity that even I can't say no. Before the rumble, I just wanted to see how many dreams I could shatter... and I shattered one of yours already, didn't I? Steve Liermann was probably the best possible opponent you could have had, wasn't he? I didn't eliminate him... but it's what you were hoping for. Amazing thing, hope. It's always the first step to loss. [The car comes to a stop, and the chauffeur gets out of the car. Quinn, seeming to be a little unsettled now, reaches into his jacket and pulls his sunglasses out again. As the door opens, the camera moves out first, still keeping a bead on Quinn, before The Man Who Doesn't Care slides out... and into a cemetery.] [The chauffeur, closing the door behind Quinn, opens up the front passenger door and pulls out a bouquet of Anemone, handing it to Quinn. As he accepts it, he starts walking into the cemetery, with the cameraman in active pursuit.] QS: I'm not going into our match, Victor, hoping to win... expecting to win... or even wanting to win. I don't have anything to gain by winning. Not your title... not the pleasure of breaking you... not more fame or prestige. Nothing, Victor. There's nothing for me to gain that I would take any pleasure in, nothing you have nothing that I want, and you have nothing to threaten me with. I just want to make you hurt... suffer... scream out in anguish and agony for as long as I can make you, but I'll settle for the briefest of moments, too. [Quinn's grip at the base of the flowers tightens noticibly, and his jaw tightens as well.] QS: *through gritted teeth* I have nothing to gain here... or anything to lose... nothing I haven't already lost some time ago, Victor. I don't care if I rip you away from the symbol that you hold so dear. I don't care if I lose to you. I don't care if I break you. I don't care if you injure me. I don't care if I maim you. I just... don't... care. [He stops dead in his tracks, still looking forward.] QS: You are just a body, Victor... a body to be abused... just like me. And after Iconoclasm... we'll both still be bodies... just damaged, is all. ...fucking meaningless. [Quinn's arm comes up slowly, reared back, until suddenly... *SMACK* *CLACK... CLACK-CLACK!* He knocks the camcorder out of the cameraman's hands, and it somehow manages to land in a position were we see the upper-half of Quinn standing in front of a particular headstone. He bends down, placing the flowers on the ground, and then stands back up.] QS: ...Hello, Carley. [And then the screen just cuts out.] _____________________________________________________________________________ |_____________________________________________________________________________| |__ICONOCLASM_________________________________________________________________| SPW Fusion Champion "VIOLENT" VICTOR FROST w. ALLEGRA di BAGGIO _____________________________________________________________________________ |_________________________________________________________________________SPW_| |_____________________________________________________________________________| [We fade in on an MMA style octagon cage. Surrounding it is mostly darkness, although you can almost make out the empty seats of an arena around it. Two men stand in the ring. One is wearing the usual gear of an MMA fighter, fighting shorts and fingerless striking gloves. The man of latino descent is heavily tattooed and in great, physical shape. He is bouncing on his feet and swinging his arms slightly, obviously, warming up. Opposite of him stands "Violent" Victor Frost, wearing his ring attire of black spandex trunks covered with stylized white lightning and black wrestling boots with "VF" printed in white letters down the side of the right one. His right shoulder is heavily bandaged, so. Victor looks tense as he eyes the MMA fighter in front of him. His jaw is working and his hands are clenching rapidly. Only now do we see Allegra di Baggio clinging to the cage fence behind Frost. Wearing a low cut, green blouse and a matching miniskirt, the Italian ex-catwalk model has a look of concern of her face.] Allegra: Are you sure you want to do this, Victor? It is only Quinn Scott, eh? You outclass him by your mere presence, no? [The Fusion Champion never takes the eyes of the latino in front of him.] Frost: Allegra, please. While I value the training sessions the two of us put in from time to time, I will not underestimate someone like Scott. The fight against Monet is still very, very present in my mind. Before that, it was a long time that I had to face someone as focused on mat wrestling and submissions, someone who assaults one particular part of your body with single- minded aggression. Monet made me look like a fool in that ring with those armbars and fingerlocks ... Allegra: ... and you made the puttana pay for it. She may claim that she won that match, but let us not forget how worthless that victory was in the end. She lay on the mat like a crumbled wreck on you walked out of that arena, still the champion. Jorge [snarling]: With a shoulder that is still torn up. Allegra: All the more reason not to ... how do you say ... lay it on to thick with this training stuff, si? I hear Jorge hear is a beast with that Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu stuff. You do not wan- Frost: I do not _want_ look like a victim at Iconoclasm. I do not _want_ to be stretched out by a SPW newcomer who flaunts his _lack_ of attitude and ambition in my face like a taunt, who just got a shot at my title by coincidence ... [He turns his head towards her for the first time, shooting her a withering glare.] Frost: ... and I do not _want_ my valet to question my every decision. [The German faces Jorge again as Allegra grimaces and takes a step away from the fence.] Frost: I know what I am doing. [The last words were spoken in a low voice, more to himself than to anybody else. Victor spreads his arms to his sides, almost a crucification pose.] Frost: Do you worst. [Jorge hesitates for a moment, then charges. Victor remains motionless, with his arms wide, his gaze unblinking, but only for a split second as 230 pounds of taut muscles slam into him and take him to the ground with a double leg takedown. Now Frost starts to scramble. He tries to get his knees up but to no avail as Jorge has already slipped closer, his hands clutching Frost's right arm. Victor gives a push with his left but his opponent seems to use even that moment and slithers sideways onto him, wrapping his legs around the German's torso as his hands clutch Frost's wrist. With a bellow of surprise and anger Victor managers to tear his arm away from his opponent's grip. He tries to regain his vertical base but Jorge is much faster and, while Frost is on one knee, his opponent grabs Victor's head and it looks like he locks on a guillotine choke.] FLASH! [Cut to a different place, a different time. A boy, about ten year old but big for his age, is running across a field of green grass. He is wearing a yellow soccer jersey and black trunks. Sweat is running down his red face. With a surprised yelp, he stumbles and falls, crashing hard to the ground. With some effort, he gets back to his feet ... and is surrounded by six other boys. They seem about two or three years older and tower over the yellow-clad kid. Also, they are uniformly dressed in navy blue soccer jerseys and white trunks. All are breathing heavily. The blue boys' are surrounded by an aura of triumph, though. One steps forward and the younger kid flinches.] Blue: Well well well, looks like we finally have caught up with you, Victor. [Young Victor wrinkles his nose, but does not answer. Instead, he lowers his eyes to his feet.] Blue: We have been trying to get to chat with you for a week now, but, being a clever little monkey, you evaded. Didn't you, monkey? [No answer, except for the chuckles of the other Blue Boys.] Blue: Cat got your tongue. I hear you are a regular loudmouth, lording over the other ten year olds like some kind of king of the schoolyard. Why? Because your uncle is a big retard who pretends to be some kind of soldier when he wrestles with half-naked men? He is not even a real soldier like my father. [Young Victor's eyes snap up and his cheeks flush red again, though this times it seems to be because of anger rather than exhaustion.] Blue: What? You do not like to be made fun of? Yet you had no problems beating up my kid brother or badmouthing our football team. It is time for you to learn a lesson, little monkey. There is always someone bigger than you and you will always pay in the end. Now get down on your knees and eat some grass or we will flay the flesh from your bones! [Shouts of support from the other Blue Boys well up but Young Victor just stares at the spokesperson.] Blue: On ... your ... knees! [With deadly accuracy, Victor spits a thick wad of phlegm directly into the face of his tormentor.] Young Victor: Kiss ... my ... [He does not get to finish the sentence as one of the Blue Boys tackles him from behind. Victor flails wildly but then a second and a third kid jumps on top of the pile. Blows are being struck to the body of kid but he does not scream. Only now, the Blue Boy who has spoken the entire team kneels down beside the squirming Victor and grabs a shock of black hair.] Blue: Beg! Young Victor: Never! [The Blue Boy pushes him face first into the grass.] FLASH! [Jorge almost has the guillotine choke cinched in when Frost grabs his legs and pushes forward, pressing Jorge into the cage. Surprised by the sudden movement, the MMA fighter loses his hold on Victor's head and the German manages to get out of the grip. He quickly backpedals and the two men keep some distance for a moment.] Allegra: That was close, Victor, but you got out pretty good there. [Jorge nods while Victor shakes his right arm, his brow furrowed.] Frost: More. [He again sticks his arms out to his sides. Jorge carefully walks up to the larger German, then grabs him by the waist and hauls him down to the mat. Jorge tries to transition over into an armbar, but Frost slips out of it and gets to his feet again. They jockey for position against the cage. Frost lands a knee strike to Jorge's mid-section, but Jorge uses the waistlock to ground Frost again. Jorge gets in the hooks and looks to get an armbar. Jorge almost just about has it, but the position against the cage is very bad and Frost is tries to block Jorge from finishing it. Victor uses his long legs to kick at Jorge's head from the hold, but Jorge holds on. In a beautiful ground display, Frost uses his legs to scissor Jorge's head and uses his arms to grab hold of Jorge's legs to break the hold. Victor continues to land some brutal kicks to Jorge's head on the ground while Jorge goes into Frost's guard but grabs hold of his leg at the last moment and twists him him over. Frost grimaces in pain as his opponent starts to apply pressure to the knee.] FLASH! [Cut to another training session. A run-down ring, a patched up squared circle. A young man, barely twenty, heavily muscled and wearing boxing trunks is standing opposite of a man his fifties. The older gentlemen is wearing combat fatigues. He looks like he may have been in good shape twenty years ago but age and red meat have taken their toll. Both are sweating heavily.] Old man: I am sick of this, Victor. We have been at it for two hours and I have kicked your ass up and down the ring. Go back to your mother. Go back to your school. Go back to your father's office and type in funny numbers. Leave this ring. Victor: I do not think so, Uncle Wilhelm. You taught me how to fight and... Wilhelm: And you think your cut out for a live in my sport? Just because you can beat up some drunk college kids does not make you fit to lace up boots and carry on _my_ legacy. Victor: I... Wilhelm: You know nothing about the pain or the sacrifices or the hardship. You know nothing about the spirit of the fight or the essence of violence you would have to face each and every day. You think you have the destiny of a Frost? I will beat that delusion out of your fat head. [With a burst of energy, Wilhelm Frost charges at Victor and throws out a clothesline, which Victor manages to block with his forearms. He retaliates with a chop that the older man does not even seem to feel. With a malicious grin on his face, Wilhelm throws an elbow at Victor's face and, with an audible crunch, breaks his nose. A spurt of blood spurts out of the young man's knows but he manages to keep his composure and grab his uncle's enormous waist. Before he can be taken down, Wilhelm busts out a head butt right to the mashed up nose. This time, Victor collapses and Wilhelm presses his big boot into the gut of his nephew.] Wilhelm: Go home, Victor. Quit fighting. [Victor grimaces, with blood running down his throat and his nose swelling quickly. Still, he manages to blurt out one defiant word.] Victor: Never! FLASH! [Victor grimaces as his knee is bend but, with one last effort, he manages to land to kick at Jorge's temple. The latino is stunned by this and Frost manages to free himself with another kick to his sparring partner's back. Victor crawls away and scrambles back to his feet as Jorge jumps back and seems ready to pounce. For a moment, there is a lull in the action.] Frost [breathing heavily]: This is good ... this is good ... still, it is not the same. You ... you are not aggressive enough. You are not out to hurt me. You are here to earn a few hundred dollars. The man I face at Iconoclasm claims he does not care about money or fame or gold ... only on inflicting pain. I can relate to that. Asserting dominance over your enemy by pounding him into a grimy paste ... I thoroughly enjoy that myself. But not without emotion. Not without exaltation. Not without satisfaction. Quinn is proud to be empty, a blank slate. Why would he be that? Power without purpose can never be as focused, as sharp as ambition ... as _greed_ and _hate_. That's what I am going to prove at Iconoclasm, that no man who is proud to be a shell deserves to be a champion. And for that, I need you to notch up the intensity, okay, _ese_? [Jorge slams his fist into his palm and nods, then rushes in with a rushing knee strike. Allegra di Baggio screams as Frost takes the hit into the chest and crumbles as if shot. Jorge, without missing a beat, laces one leg under the Victor's armpit and turns 180 degrees in the direction of that leg, so that the leg moves over the back of his opponent and entangles the Frost's arm. He then proceeds to push down and apply pressure to Frost's taped shoulder. The German grits his teeth even as his eyes seem to bulge out of his head. Allegra jumps up and down on the apron, panic obvious on her face.] Allegra: That's enough! No! No rompersi un braccio! Do not break his shoulder! Tap Victor! Quit it! Frost: NO! [It is more a roar than a word that erupts from the Black mass member!] FLASH! [A modest dinner table. Victor Frost, as we know him, perhaps two or three years younger, a little less heavy, with no visible scars and a full head of hair, sits opposite of a redheaded woman, freckle-and-fresh faced, although her eyes are bloodshot. There have been tears, that much is certain. Victor looks excited, though, and oblivious to the mood of the woman as he grips a letter in his hand.] Frost: Can you believe it, Anika? An honest to god contract offer. And it is not one of those rinky dink gym promotions, where I would have to wrestle in front of fifty toothless rednecks. It is Shootfire Pro Wrestling. Look. [He hands her the letter but Anika does not look at it. Instead, a pleading expression has crept onto her face as she stares at Victor.] Frost: What? What now? This is good news. After my stint in UWF and the investigations and accusations, I was sure I was blackballed forever in the USA. But this right here is my ticket back. Back to fame, back to money ... back onto a worldwide stage! [Anika nods and swallows hard.] Anika: You ... you want to go through with this? [Frost stares at her as if she talks in tongues.] Frost: We have been waiting for this, baby. _The_ comeback! Anika: I thought you had abandoned that. Frost: What? Anika: You have been back in Germany for close to a year now. Only now, the doctors are sure that you have healed and I still hear you groan in pain from time to time when you think you are alone. [Victor's face betrays no more emotion at this point.] Anika: You have earned good money as a trainer at Otto's facility and we still have some of your savings from Master of the Ring. I ... I ... I enjoyed having you close here. Your daughter has come to know her father, not as a distant figure on TV but as a presence in her life. You ... [Frost points a trembling index finger at her.] Frost: You always knew I would go back one day. Anika: NO! No I did not know that! Why would you go back to a life of agony and blood and injuries that could kill you in the end? Why would you abandon your family for ring rats and whores and strippers and drugs and alcohol? Why, Victor, I do not understand? Even your uncle ... Frost: My uncle dreamed of fighting even on his deathbed. My uncle made me dedicate my life to this sport. My uncle lived through me when he sat at home, crippled and decrepit, wishing he could be me. Anika: You promised me things, too. Frost: Do not do this. Anika: I want you to quit, Victor. You have quit already. You are out of the fight. Rest. Stay, with me, with us. Stop fighting! [Victor stares at her, long and hard. Then, he shakes his head, only once, but unwavering.] Frost: Never. [The word is barely a whisper, though Anika's wail is more than audible.] FLASH! [Frost's face is red with strain. With his left arm, he manages to grab Jorge's foot and pushes it up. The latino loses his balance and Frost pulls with his damaged arm and Jorge falls down onto, Victor Frost. With one huge, left hand, the German grabs his opponent's head and pins it in place before he starts to strike at it with his knee. Again and again and again. Allegra di Baggio has seen enough. She opens the cage door and rushes into the ring to scream at her boss.] Allegra: Basta Cosi, Victor! You got him, you got him! Stop! [Frost continues to slam his knee viciously into the head of Jorge whose body has gone limp.] Frost: ENOUGH? NEVER! [black.] _____________________________________________________________________________ |_____________________________________________________________________________| |__ICONOCLASM_________________________________________________________________| TIFFANY LANE _____________________________________________________________________________ |_________________________________________________________________________SPW_| |_____________________________________________________________________________| [We find ourselves in New York, during the famous Fashion Week. To be a little more specific, Bloomingdales. It's at the upscale department store that we find Tiffany Lane, casually making her way through the women's department. She's clad in a purple, Betsey Johnson, ruffle dress and heels, her blonde hair falling down her back in ringlets. Draped over her shoulder is her purse, shopping bags in hand. She fixes the camera with a smile, stopping near a display, which (surprise! surprise!) has her picture on it, posed up in a swimsuit.] Tiffany: I've dealt with a lot of shady bitches, in my day. There was Diane Zarr, who thought it would be funny to steal my shoes, when we were competing in the Miss Teen Malibu pageant. Then, there was Mindy Chan, who tried to stop me from winning prom queen by telling everyone that I slept my way to an A in Mr. Duncan's French class. [She rolls her eyes at the memory.] Tiffany: But you, Samantha Bevins, have to be the shadiest bitch yet. It was bad enough, stealing my dressing room and then my parking space. But you took things one step further by sicking your little dog, Nikki James, after me too. To be honest with you, I know where all of this hostility comes from. You're used to coming into a promotion and automatically becoming Queen Bee. Except, when you came to SPW, newsflash, they already had one of those. And she wasn't about to be deposed any time soon, especially by some fake ass pretender. So, I can only imagine how much that pissed you off, knowing that everyone's favorite manager and cover girl was finally going to be playing second fiddle. So, you started playing these little mean girl, mind games and got yourself a proper underling, all in the hopes of finally "putting me in my place". The two of you wouldn't even shut your yaps about how oh-so washed up I was and how you were both going to usher me gracefully out of SPW. Except, when it was time to get the job done, your little flunky choked and found her ass laying on the mat and tapping out. [Tiffany grins, giving a toss of her mane.] Tiffany: See, Samantha, you should have been a wee bit smarter. Before you started any of this mess, you should have talked to Diane, Mindy, and the many other chicks, just like them, that I've encountered in my day. They could have schooled you and let you know that Tiffany Lane's not one to screw with. Because when you mess with me and try to back me up into a corner? I come back straight for your throat and leave you in even worse shape then you were before. And that's a lesson I'll be giving to Poet again too. [At the mere mention of the champion's name, the grin vanishes, replaced by a solemn frown and sigh.] Tiffany: Speaking of which, that was a cute little trick at Road to Iconoclasm, Poet, trying to rain on my parade. But it didn't intimidate or impress me. I see through the smoke and mirrors. I know the _real_ you, the opportunistic coward and not this cold-blooded huntress that you'd like to portray. You've been running off at the mouth about how you're controlling things now and we're all dancing to your beat? [She shakes her head, a look of disbelief etched on her features.] Tiffany: Bitch, please! The only reason any of this has gone on as long as it has is because _I_ let _my_ attention waver. I was too busy focusing on Jasy and our issues, and not spending nearly enough time looking your way too! [She shrugs.] Tiffany: It happens. Even the absolute best slip up here and there. But what they also do is then rectify those mistakes, which is exactly what I plan to do at Iconoclasm. You've been atop that throne way too long now, Poet. And it's largely my fault. When it mattered most, I failed. The fans and myself. I'm woman enough to admit that. And I'm woman enough to finally do something about it. See, it didn't matter who I had to fight or what I had to do. I knew that, at the end of the day, we'd be meeting again and I'd have the chance to finally right some wrongs. So, at Iconoclasm, you're done. The games. The manipulations. The terrorizing. It all comes to an end, when I re-take what's mine and leave you exactly where you belong: back on the outside, looking in. [Fade to blonde.] _____________________________________________________________________________ |_____________________________________________________________________________| |__ICONOCLASM_________________________________________________________________| SPW Women's World Champion POET WRIGHT _____________________________________________________________________________ |_________________________________________________________________________SPW_| |_____________________________________________________________________________| [Fade in: We see the back of her head first. A nest of dreadlocks spill down her shoulders and back, tied into a sloppy braid. Her back is broad and muscular. Her hands are on her hips. The camera tracks a circle around her, showing the silver Women's World championship over her left shoulder and the profile of the ghastly carved wooden mask with its human hair trophies. Finally it settles on a full on shot of Poet Wright, the SPW champion. She stares through the camera behind the Death's Head mask. Even though the mask is carved into a permanent sneer it is obvious that she feels the same way and wears the same expression. Finally the champion touches a blonde lock of hair on the mask.] Poet: Since the beginning of Shootfire's women's division there has always been you and there has always been me. Even when Marissa Monet won the first Shootfire Women's World championship it was always about you and it was always about me. They called you the wily veteran back then and me the up and coming rookie. You cheated me at every turn. You found way after way to steal matches from me and try to discourage me. You even managed to steal the title before I could win it. [She tugs on the blonde forelock a bit harder now, wrapping it firmly around her finger.] Poet: That was your first title reign. A reign of cowardice and skulking behind the Sisterhood Seduction until I outsmarted you and won the title by sacrificing just a small piece of my soul. That was my first title reign. And I reigned undefeated until Serena Black saw fit to take a hammer to my knee. Then I came back to reclaim my title. That was my second reign. And you won the belt from Tommy. Your second reign. The longest reign in SPW history. Until I made sure it came to an end. And then I made sure you won it back until I decided it was time that the belt came to me. And now we have three title reigns apiece, Tiffany. They say you're aiming for history. They say you're trying to become a legend and take that next step. [Poet drops her head. Her shoulders start to shake and that grating, hysterical sound that approaches laughter shakes the screen. She removes her mask as she looks up, showing the black-painted face with its grotesque scarring highlighted in bright orange and white. Ghostly white rings are painted around each of her eyes.] Poet: You're trying to step up to my level, Tiffany. See, history beckons Poet Wright. You haven't been relevant to me for a long time. I've been controlling your fate. I've decided when you were champion and when you would not be. And now, I decide that you will not be champion at Iconoclasm. I decide that there will be no fourth reign for you at my expense. No, you do not make history before I do, Tiffany. History beckons Poet Wright. I will be the longest reigning champion in history. And you are not going to stop me. Nikki James got lucky, didn't she? But you ... I _hate_ you. You are my age old enemy. My polar opposite. You are everything that I despise ... so pale, so fair, so engrossed by your self-centred vision of beauty. You have not made your body into the art that I am. I am art. You, you're just a little barbie doll. A little doll just like Galiver carries around trying to impress people with her studied affectation. Me, I am art ... a work of art that appreciates over time. People see new dimensions in me. They see that I am the study of a generation ... the voice of a people. You, you are just a passing amusement, a living, breathing doll. What do people do with dolls? They play with them. They bend them and twist them into poses. They put them on the shelf as displays. Some people satisfy their urges on them. But the truth is a doll is doll. It is nothing more than a plaything. Nobody cares about Barbie the same way they do a Van Gogh. Just a cheap disposable piece of plastic. I think I shall pop your head off at the neck and cut your hair. I think I need a new trophy for my mask. You, you silly plastic thing, have decided to test fate. You want to be part of history? Well, you're on the wrong side of history. This world is mine! This championship is mine! Your fate is mine! I determine fate. I write history. And you will be nothing more than a footnote in my legend, Tiffany. Come to Iconoclasm and write your history. Just know that I will write your final chapter. And I will write it in your blood. [Fade out] _____________________________________________________________________________ |_____________________________________________________________________________| |__ICONOCLASM_________________________________________________________________| MARISSA MONET _____________________________________________________________________________ |_________________________________________________________________________SPW_| |_____________________________________________________________________________| [Fade in: The telltale records the words: Taped earlier. The image opens on an aerial shot of Coney Island, Brooklyn, New York. The sun shines most of the day on Coney Island so it cannot hide. The contrast is striking. The beach is bright and alive, bustling with Labor Day beachgoers, vendors at brightly-coloured stalls and young kids hawking sodas and water for extra money on the boardwalk. The amusement park, boasting the historic Cyclone and Wonder Wheel, is still an attraction. Behind this, however, looms the massive Coney Island housing projects. They are almost entirely poor, almost entirely Black, an oppressive range of high rises that speaks to Coney Island's vibrant past and its dilapidated present. The camera circles around the Island until it focuses on a basketball court. The shot zooms in on a game in progress. The courts are crowded with players, spectators and hoop dreams. As the shot gets closer to the ground we see a large, muscular woman leaning against the fence and watching the games. This is Coney Island's daughter, Marissa Monet. The 6'6 Amazon leans up against the fence, wearing a white wifebeater, white basketball shorts with black trim, white socks and flipflops. She threads her long spider fingers through the chainlink fence, watching the action raptly. The camera cuts to a profile shot of her.] Marissa: Coney Island, I grew up right over there ... [She points to the bleak and looming Surfside Gardens and its 15 floors.] Marissa: But this Court right here? The Gardens. This is my home. This is where I came to get away from everything. Mom crying because the bills were out of control. I came here. Too much stress at school. I came here. Needed to let off steam. I came here. The police had the building taped off? I came here. Whenever I was scared, I came here. So why am I here just a few days before I have to fly to San Diego for Iconoclasm? [She turns to face the camera.] Marissa: Because I'm scared. [Marissa stares defiantly at the camera. She twists her whole body around to face the camera as she leans against the chainlink fence.] Marissa: I've always loved Coney Island, but I've always wanted to get out. It was too small. It was too confined. There was no hope here. I had to get out. And so everyday I stepped onto this court for hours and I shot. I rebounded. I passed. I dribbled. I worked with Mr. Lou, God rest his soul, and I began to dream of a way out. I began to dream of way to be free. And I played every game that I could. See, in the Gardens, you lose and you go home because the wait is too long. So, imagine, nobody wanted the girl on their team. So I had to prove myself every single time I set foot on the court because I couldn't lose. I couldn't be left behind and watch my dream die. So I competed with my every last breath. I built my body so I was strong enough, fast enough, tough enough to handle the elbows, the curses, the fights. This Garden toughened my spirit and I made sure that I won as much as I could because I was scared to lose. [Marissa shakes her head ruefully.] Marissa: Everybody else could lose and it was okay. But the girl couldn't. I lost and I was done. Nobody wanted to pick me up. So I gave them no choice. I held court until I chose to leave. The Gardens made me everything I am: a fighter, a hustler, a survivor ... a winner. We didn't have many chances on Coney Island so you had to be ready for one when it came along. You had to go all out when one came or you got left behind. That's why I always go out. That's why I train as hard as I do. That's why I work so hard. I have to have my dreams. Even if I have to put everything on the line to get it done. The Deathwish Cage match is a perfect example. I want to be the World Heavyweight Champion. Winning the Deathwish Cage match will put an end to anybody trying to keep me from accomplishing that goal. I lose and that dream goes up in smoke. I'm scared that my team loses and my dream goes up in smoke. I'm scared because I'm addicted to the sport. The Invaders know what I'm talking about. This business comes to mean everything to you. You'll travel anywhere. You'll compete any time. You'll do anything. This world becomes the only thing you know. It warps your perception. Marissa: And because it can all be taken away, I'm scared. I'm scared that the Invaders will take away everything I care about: my fans, SPW, my dreams. My freedom. I'm scared that they'll take it all away because they're scared. [Marissa stares through the camera, letting her words sink in.] Marissa: A lot of Shootfire's talen doesn't understand what these Invaders ared going through. I do. See, Shootfire is the most successful wrestling promotion in the world today, bar none. Everybody who is anybody competes here. But before it used to have competition. There used to be dozens of wrestling promotions vying to be the biggest and the best. Celine, Ian, Taylor and Dragon were men who were used to be at the top of their promotions. They were used to being cheered backstage, catered to and renowned for their exploits in the ring. And then just like that they fell off the map. Their promotions closed. No more main events. No more names in lights. No more easy money. It was time to start all over again. And they didn't know where that next high was coming from. They didn't know when that music would hit and their name be called. You never want to lose that feeling. It hurts too much. It takes too much of your soul. [Marissa points straight at the camera.] Marissa: Doesn't it, Jean Pierre? You're hooked on that feeling the most out of anybody I've ever seen. You're addicted to the spotlight worse than any man I've ever seen in this business. It kills you inside to know that in Shootfire you're just another wrestler. Everybody knows the legend of Vile Vince Viper and they know that you're just a cheap imitation. You're not special. No matter how hard you try. All the antics, all the fake accents and the obnoxious skits are all to cover up the fact that you're scared. You're scared that without them nobody will care about you at all. Nobody would even notice you in the ring. That's what you're scared of. And you know what? You're right. No one will miss your presence in the ring because you don't have one. You're not headlining matches. Nobody talks about your matches. And they saw how for all your bluster that Hustle & Swagger put you down. That's your legacy. That's all people will remember about you, a loser. And that scares you to death. When I was sitting at home, unemployed, trying to come to grips with the fact that I took a chance and failed, I was scared, too. I cried a lot. I missed the rush. I missed the feeling. All the money, all the love, all the freedom couldn't make me happy because I wasn't getting high. I wasn't getting that buzz. [She mimes drinking.] Marissa: Isn't that the feeling you get from your bottle now, Bill? Doesn't that warm, strong liquor talk to you? Doesn't it? Isn't it your friend, lover and confidant? That bottle talks to you, doesn't it? It helps you through and supports you while you're sitting home, wondering what you'll do if this all goes wrong. Will it comfort you when you realise that you're right back where you started? Broke. Nothing to do and nowhere to go. And you were the 24 Hour champion. Back then drinks were free. And friends were plentiful. Now, it's pretty lonely, isn't it? No more comps. No more free anything. It's like you're back in the hole, all alone trying to fend off the madness. and that bottle is your best friend. It stops the shakes. It helps you find that feeling. Without it, you're nothing. Nothing. [Marissa rubs her hand across her face.] Marissa: That's a feeling you identify with, isn't it, Red Dragon? That feeling that nothing is going right scares you, doesn't it? You keep trying and trying and it doesn't work. I know that feeling. You were a regional champion. You thought you were moving up to the big time. You thought you just got the big pay day and then just as you thought you got your break ... nothing. There was no call up to that big show. There was no chance to do what you dreamed to do because the IGA pulled the rug out from under you. They did the same thing to me in Vegas. When they folded up I had nothing. That's the worst feeling in the world. It's a lonely, desperate feeling. You don't know if it will ever happen for you. And you start to think that you will do anything. Isn't that right, my brother? [Marissa holds up her fist.] Marissa: Nathan Taylor, I think I understand you most of all. Your life and mine? We're not so different. Successful athletes in another sport. Mixed martial artists. Big, powerful African americans who are used to towering over people. But you just want that feeling and so you'll tag along and be a lackey just to get into the spotlight. Are you happy being a lackey, Nathan? I wasn't when I joined the Black Mass. I knew they didn't want me. They wanted Volga, but I was his partner and I was too scared to stick to my beliefs because I needed that rush of the main event. Look at you, Nathan, for all your power and ability, you're nothing but the Invaders' enforcer. They don't let you speak. They don't let you wrestle in high profile matches and you failed in your biggest match in SPW. And you did it all because you were scared to be unemployed in this economy. You didn't want to go back to Duluth as much as I don't want to go back to Coney Island. Marissa: Invaders, I know you all. We all have the same dream, but that's where we part. Because, unlike you, I understand that I'm not bigger than Shootfire and I understand that I have to fight and earn everything that I get in this ring. You think you can just walk in and take over. It doesn't work that way. I understand that, the four of you are so lost in your own egos that you think you can take shortcuts. [Marissa's golden eyes flatten and grow even more intense.] Marissa: Understand something. I have bled for my place in this promotion. I've sweated and sacrificed and struggled. All to keep a dream alive. All for the opportunity to have my dream come true. See, Deathwish in the cage will be just like playing basketball right here. I'll be scared, but I've be in that fight right to the end. Understand, you're going to have to kill me to take away my dreams. I will never say "I quit." I will never bow. I will not give up. I will not pass out. I will not stop. I will find away. And that makes me even more scared. I have everything to lose. I have nowhere else to go. I'm desperate and I'm scared. [Marissa looks down at the ground for a long moment before she lifts her head and raises her chin slightly at the camera.] Marissa: I'm especially scared of what I'm going to do in that ring. I'm scared that I'm going to kill you. [Her eyes roll over white and flutter in the back of her skull.] Marissa: You should be scared, too. [Fade out.] _____________________________________________________________________________ |_____________________________________________________________________________| |__ICONOCLASM_________________________________________________________________| "THE DARKMAN" BRYAN VINCENT -vs- JOSHUA NORTH _____________________________________________________________________________ |_________________________________________________________________________SPW_| |_____________________________________________________________________________| Stone: The following contest is scheduled for one fall with a fifteen minute time limit. Your Referee for this match is Charles Eden. Introducing first... ["Chapter 4" by Avenged Sevenfold begins to play over the PA system as a young Caucasian male steps out from the backstage area. He has brownish-reddish hair - medium in length - that just kind of... sits there, dull hazel eyes, and just a touch of acne. A sheepish smile and an unassuming gaze adorn his face. He's obviously in good shape, keeping his body trim and toned, but there is not much muscular definition to speak of. He's not a hairy guy, but he doesn't have a clean shaven body either. Has a birthmark on the right side of his neck. No tattoos or piercings. He's wearing a plain red hoodie and plain red wrestling trunks and boots, red kneepads, and a mouth guard is visible as he smiles. The hood on the sweatshirt is pulled up and he is carrying a water bottle in his hand.] Stone: From Bristol, Connecticut... And weighing in tonight at one hundred and ninety-one pounds... JOSHUAAAAAA NORTHHHHHHHHH!!! [North walks down the ramp towards the ring, slapping hands with the fans as he passes them by.] Tara Silver: Joshua North making his one-on-one debut here and what better stage to do it on than here at Iconoclasm in front of a sold out crowd. Vik Avatar: Personally, I think this kid has a lot to learn about this business. Namely, never apologize for smacking a guy upside the head with a lead pipe. Of course, that doesn't apply when the person you hit is Steve Liermann. Tara: I hate agreeing with you but very good point made, Vik. [Joshua North is now at ringside and climbs inside the ring as the fans give him a healthy round of cheers.] Stone: And his opponent... [The lights dim inside the jam-packed arena, all of a sudden "What Comes Around" by ill Nino kicks up over the PA System! Fireworks shoot up from either side of the ramp, as huge columns of fire and smoke blast heat, and cause the fans to back up, fearing for their lives!! Green pyrotechnic streamers start flying from the ramp to the ceiling as the Shootfire Screens flash the stunning artistic lighting display of the The Darkman!] "You think that I'm the one to blame Everything I lose is just a piece of what there is to gain You think it's cool and all is fine Now is the day when you pay, this is my time I feel for you nothing but pain I am what you will be, you are dying in me I love you, I hate you, I Miss You... You're always thinking you're so perfect Those thoughts drove me away from home But if you put me through your tests Then I will fade" [The Darkman finally steps out of the back as the crowd erupts in a chorus of cheers. Wearing black tights with 'DARKMAN BRYAN VINCENT' airbrushed up the sides and middle, Vincent stands there looking into the crowd with a stone look on his face, dark shades covering his eyes. The fans immediately pop as the SPWTron shows highlights of Bryan Vincent hitting manuever after sensational maneuver! Use your imagination! No! Even better than that!] "Your stupid face just makes me sick I see you changing every day To fit into the newest clique I know you, but everything you do Is just a part of you, you'll never see the truth I hate the way you make me feel I hate the way you think you're real Your one voice it destroys my one choice You're always thinking you're so perfect Those thoughts drove me away from home But if you put me through these tests Then I will fade" ["DARKMAN" flashes on the Shootfire Screens, showing shots of Vincent bragging on the monitor as Bryan continues walking down the ring and hops up onto the apron. He holds his hands in the air and emits a vocal barrage at the roaring Shootfire Faithful. The Darkman climbs onto the top rope facing the audience and mugs for pictures as the flashes from the cameras are nearly blinding. Bryan stands straight up on the top then backflips into the ring where the crowd continues their cheers!!] "I have nothing to say, but I feel like my mouth is open Everything that is real, comes around... comes around... I have nothing to say, but I feel like my mouth is wide open Everything that is real, comes around, comes around..." [Vincent does his best to ignore the fans himself and focus on the task at hand. The Darkman looks at Joshua North across the ring from him, a new determination, a new fire in his eyes as he stands atop the SPW logo in the center of the ring] Stone: FROM HOLLYWOOD CALIFORNIA, STANDING SIX FOOT THREE, WEIGHING IN AT TWO HUNDRED AND TWENTY-THREE POUNDS... THIS IS THE DARKMAN... BRRRRYYYYYAAAAAN VIIINNNCENT!!!!! [HUGE FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Tara: Vincent making his return to SPW after spending some time overseas on the latest tour with the NJWF. Vik: What tour? I heard that whole thing went south one week in and that Vincent was too scared to come back earlier than expected. Tara: Ahem! Folks, this one is about to get underway. Once again, your official for this contest is Charles Eden. ***DING! DING! DING!*** Tara: Both men lock up and Vincent quickly throws North into the side. Back comes Joshua North and gets hit with an elbow from Bryan Vincent. Now with a handful of hair, Vincent brings North to a vertical position. Vik: Kick to the midsection of Joshua North and the rookie looks to be in trouble as Bryan Vincent grabs him in a front headlock... And takes North down with a bulldog. Tara: A small "Vincent" chant is starting up as The Darkman follows up with a DDT. Staying on top of his opponent, Bryan Vincent whips him into the corner. Vik: Looks like Bryan Vincent going for a top rope maneuver as he drags Joshua North up to the top turnbuckle. [CROWD POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Tara: And Bryan Vincent with a big time superplex as both men crash back-first to the mat. Charles Eden checking on both men and it looks like Vincent is the first to his feet. Vik: Bryan Vincent stepping back and almost stalking Joshua North as he stirs on the canvas. North slowly rising up... AND IS CAUGHT IN AN ARMBAR SUBMISSION BY BRYAN VINCENT!!! [FANS CHEER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Tara: The time spent in Japan definitely paying off for Bryan Vincent as he has Joshua North in a precarious position at the moment. Vik: I'm still convinced he was actually sitting at home in Hollywood hiding from the bosses. Tara: Joshua North with some ground game skills of his own as he makes his way to the side and forces the break. Vik: Yeah but Bryan Vincent with a quick hammerlock into an armdrag takedown. Now with the arm still in his grasp, he pulls North back to his feet and goes for an Irish whip. [POP!] Tara: NO! Joshua North able to reverse and into the side goes Bryan Vincent. And here he comes with a running elbow... ducked by North who hits a palm shot to the abdomen of Vincent. Vik: Darkman is stunned as we see shades of the first offensive from Joshua North who drives Vincent's head straight into the turnbuckle. Tara: Vincent bounces out of the corner and goes down into a backslide from Joshua North. 1........................ KICKOUT! Vik: This young rookie definitely showing something here but it still don't impress me much. Tara: North picking up Vincent and hits a piledriver in the center of the ring. Another cover... 1........................ KICKOUT! Vik: North went to the well twice and came up dry. Back on his feet and Bryan Vincent with a shot to the gut. Doubles North over and goes for the Fisherman buster! Tara: Up and down goes North as Vincent now with the cover. 1........................ 2.................................. KICKOUT! Vik: Vincent complaining to the referee about a slow count. And essentially helping Joshua North as it gives him time to recover. Tara: Back over comes Vincent... OH MY! Double leg sweep and Vincent on his back, thanks to Joshua North who is now standing. Vik: North picks up Vincent and nails him with a kneebreaker. Fireman's carry attempt by Joshua North as Vincent strung across the rookie's shoulders. Tara: Ooo... Bryan Vincent able to drive a couple of elbows into the side of North's head to break the hold. Vik: Vincent on his feet and now standing toe to toe with Joshua North. Shots being traded as Vincent hits a hard right hand and North returns with a kick to the side of Bryan Vincent. [CROWD POP!!] Tara: These fans are certainly enjoying this pre-show match as a small "North" chant is being started, only to be countered with a larger "Vincent" chant. Vik: Vincent with the Irish whip... Reversal by North... NO! HURRACANRANA TAKEDOWN BY BRYAN VINCENT!!! [FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Tara: Bryan Vincent with a hold of Joshua North's legs as the Referee counts! 1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Tara: BIG TIME KICKOUT FROM JOSHUA NORTH!!! [FANS CHEER!!!!!!!!!!!] Vik: Bryan Vincent complaining to the Referee once more- goes to drag Joshua up, [HUGE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Tara: INSIDE CRADLE FROM JOSHUA NORTH! 1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 3!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [CROWD SCREAMS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Tara: HOLY SMOKES! WHAT AN UPSET BY JOSHUA NORTH! Vik: Maybe Vincent should've gotten into the gym more instead of drinking cocktails poolside in California. Stone: LADIES AND GENTLEMEN.... THE WINNER OF THIS MATCH! JOSHUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA NORTHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! [MONSTER POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [Joshua gets up celebrating as Bryan Vincent leaps into the air to lock the kid's head and nails the lightning fash Snake Eyes Legsweep!! North bounces back as the audience screams out in shock!! The Darkman lurches up to his feet, holding his head, engraged! The cheers turn to boos as Bryan yells down at North, "What comes around" beginning to play over the PA System as The Darkman drops and leaves the ring, very upset at having lost his return match to the States.... inside the ring, Joshua North is still down as the San Diego Sports Arena boos out] Vik: And an, an uncharacterstic post match attack from "The Darkman" Bryan Vincent... the kid just snapped!! Tara I don't think we've ever seen anything like that from the usually calm and mysterious Bryan Vincent! Tara: No indeed, emotions getting the best of him here at Iconoclasm OTC. North, Joshua North, just enough able to catch Vincent with the Inside Cradle for the three and he paid the price with the Quickstryke, his mentor Jeff Keenan's feared finisher from back in the day. Vik: Well, that's Shootfire Pay Per View baby, expect the unexpected! Joshua your winner folks, but Bryan Vincent leaves him laying!! Tara: OTC Continues. Someone get North some help. _____________________________________________________________________________ |_____________________________________________________________________________| |__ICONOCLASM_________________________________________________________________| "THE MASTADON" NATHAN TAYLOR _____________________________________________________________________________ |_________________________________________________________________________SPW_| |_____________________________________________________________________________| [The cameras are walking down the back hallways when there is an incredible roar and a huge unfamiliar sound is heard. To the camera's surprise, that sound is followed by an "Ah Shit!" The camera turns a corner and looks in various look rooms and eventually come to one where Nathan Taylor is standing looking down at sand. There standing in front of him is what used to be a regulation boxing punching bag, but it's been busted somehow. If you have to ask how, you don't know Taylor do you? The camera person took this opportunity to get something maybe from Taylor.] [Taylor just looks down at the sand covering his feet almost piled up to his knees, he shakes his head and busts out laughing. He turns and staggers back a step not even hearing or seeing the camera come in.] Taylor: Don't sneak up on me like that, Jesus, want to give me a heart attack before I go into one of the biggest matches in my career? [The camera looks down at the sand, then to the bag, then shifts over to Taylor. He gets the camera-person's meaning and shrugs.] Taylor: I always hit the bag before matches, I just imagined the bag was Sammy Knight and next thing I knew I hit it and BAM! It exploded. Just imagine if I can get him alone in that ring like that. His team won't stand a chance. Once I plant one big shot across just one of their jaws, it's over for um. [Taylor crosses his massive arms over one another and smirks.] Taylor: The only person missing from this match is Derek Weaver, that sell out. I swear if he were in this match, I'd exert myself just so I could pluck his fucking eye out! ..I'll get him one day, but my focus is not going to just be on Knight, he has a team behind him, and I've got mine behind me. I can leg press their entire team's weight by myself, when it comes to power, I am the most powerful person in SPW. [Taylor pauses for a second before glaring into the camera, the smirk gone and a look of serious determination replaces it now.] Taylor: The question is, who will survive tonight? I won't be help responsible for what happens in that ring. I just know, the last man standing will be me, the carnage that will ensue in that ring tonight.. well lets just say the Shootfire Faithful brought everything they're about to get on themselves. [Fade to black.] _____________________________________________________________________________ |_____________________________________________________________________________| |__ICONOCLASM_________________________________________________________________| THE RED DRAGON _____________________________________________________________________________ |_________________________________________________________________________SPW_| |_____________________________________________________________________________| [Los Angeles, California. City on fire. City of glitz, glamour, and raining soot. City of smog. City of gangs...] [And city we're not in anymore, thank god. Instead, we're on the side of Interstate 5, looking northward at the black cloud over L.A.... Blacker than the usual one even.] "You're still not ready." [Aw shit. Just when i was starting to enjoy the view here in Oceanside.] "Man, do those words still ring clear in my mind. They must've said that to me a thousand times when I was just starting out years ago." [Okay, okay, we'll bring him into view. As the sun sets into the Pacific ocean behind him, and a touch of light forces it's shadow over the rest of the mask, we behold the Red Dragon, sitting on the hood of his rental Prius as he looks into the long distance.] Dragon: "There were times I was told that by people and they were right. When I first started in this business, years upon years ago, they were right. I wasn't ready. Some fresh faced kid from the island, ready to up and fuck shit up at the ripe old age of 16. Doing it for all the right reasons, showing everyone the utmost respect, and thinking there was nothing to stop me from reaching the top with my natural abilities. I wasn't ready. But I went and did it anyway. I had to. If only to just get by in life, because I knew I wasn't suited for this 9-to-5 crap. And I learned the hard way what this business is all about. Liars, backstabbers, cheaters, people who play politics, shitty organizations that pay well, good organizations that pay shit, scumbags in every facet of the backstage crew, right down to the drunken idiots and rookies looking for a break just putting up a ring at a venue. People who would sell out their mother for the extra 15 minutes of fame. Somehow I kept it real enough to get noticed and get off the island. But those people are everywhere. Japan, Mexico, here in the states, it's all the same. Except nowadays it's a little different. Instead of letting the veterans run the roost, every now and then, they'll give a kid the ball and say 'Run with it'. Another fresh face from the crowd, waiting for his shot at greatness. Well, word on the street, O'connor, is that, you're supposed to be the kid. You've got the ball, and these bootlicking geniuses we all call boss, all think that you're gonna run all the way to the end zone. But you're still not ready. Yeah, that's right. While you may have 'won' that match in LA, you didn't really earn the win. I gave you the ten minutes you deserved. I showed that I'm smarter than you, more athletic than you, and that I know what my priorities are. You on the other hand, took a cheap countout win, and figured that's good enough. You got one over on the guy that was gonna eventually either choke you out, or put you out. [A light chuckle from the Dragon.] No, James. The only thing you got from last week is a lesson, and you can thank me for it later. The fact that you sat back and settled for a cheap victory, and didn't continue to bring the fight to me, just shows that you're really not ready to be carrying the ball when it really counts. You want the easy way out. You don't want to have to earn anything, you want things handed to you, like they've been handed to you since you got here. YOu want your cheap meaninglesss win? There it was for the world to see, James. Enjoy the gravy train while it last, kid, because it won't last much longer. And for those of you bitching about why I left the ring, even after this perfectly good explanation, and lesson to the youth of this business, let me remind you of something. I'm not gonna risk being injured at the hands of some green bean, the show before a worldwide pay-per-view, where I'm not wrestling once, BUT TWICE. And in way bigger matches than me versus some new jack fresh out of the MMA cage. I called out El Rey Futuro WEEKS ago. I was coming into the PPV with that on my mind, because I plan on showing the world just what a fraud this guy and his lucha skills are, and why the pure, stiff japanese way is the ONLY way. Sure, I do my share of tope con hilos and ranas and flippy bullshit out of the corners. And sure, I do it BETTER than anyone else in the world. That doesn't mean I'm one-dimensional though. I know how to do things lucha don't. Like throw a kick that hurts, or tag a partner, or any real basic fundamental wrestling, submissions, striking, putting on a good show, things like that. Apart from that though, suffice to say, I don't like the guy. I mean, he's talking through flash cards, people. Don't they make flash cards where you can learn english or something? Oh, right. He's got a 'translator'. Of course, in this case, translator is code for 'hanger-on that knows wnglish and is taking half the money', and I guess he's really good at charades or something because he can understand this mongoloid better than anyone else apparently. Well, almost anyone else. Apparently one of his lucha buddies, or trainers, or El Rey In The Pasto, whatever he is, decided to show up just in the nick of time for Futuro to declare his hatred through Tarot. Yeah, how's that going for you, man? Still up near the top of the rankings without having to do a damn thing. Swing off the nuts of a man who's recent claim to fame was walking into a trap and getting a fireball to the face. Real good policy for all involved, until right up to the pay-per-view, when I show the world what the kingdom you Lucha Libre losers reign over actually contains. False hope, empty promises, and shitty, un-entertaing wrestling. BUT WAIT! THERE'S MORE! Order now, and you get me in a second match, that I found out I was in shortly before my run in with O'connor last week, as I get to step into the Deathwish Cage, along with the rest of the people that happened to show up when I did. And let's face it, calling us invaders at this point is kind of stupid, as we're the best thing on these shows... The Saviors of SPW..... that would be Jean-Pierre Celine, Wild Bill Ian, 'The Mastodon' Nathan taylor, and MYSELF, going up against your precious fucking heroes... A has-been, a never-was, a chick, and the champ who's got a championship match on his mind, immediately following this one. All led by a brittle, bitter old man who thinks he's doing his god-given duty to protect SPW from real talent showing up. Who knows, maybe Baldwin will end up taking a swing at the newest additions to the women's division next, or Chad Allen. Real tough guy, that guy, as long as he's running in a pack, or using a tire iron. at least he realized just how useless he'd be and took himself out of the match. After all, I've already shown he can be beaten, and what a hell of a teammate he is, leaving Jasy O'Neil all alone to get her ass kicked by Orchid. Instead, I get to finally get my hands on Sammy Knight, champion of the world. The man who will lead SPW and all their little lemmings off the cliff, and into the ocean of Evil Invaders... his down-low buddy Eddie Christian, who I'm sure has been taking in deep, late-night, secret meetings with the champ to 'go over strategy'... the world's greatest wrestling bear, Marissa Monet, and the kid who's just about ready to fumble the ball, Jimmy James O'Connor. While I could rip you all individually, I won't. There's no point in that. I'd rather address you all as a group anyway, even though you're the worst group I've ever seen team up in my life. You guys don't even know what you're fighting for, for fuck's sake. Seriously, let's break this down. At Ringu Faia, JDM brings a bunch of new talent to SPW. We signed deals, we get paid, the signature on the checks is the same signature you get on your checks. But because we decide to make our presence felt at a pay-per-view, instead of sitting back and waiting around for one of you losers to give up a spot so that we can get some fcae time, we're the bad guys. We're invading your company, we're taking your spots away, we're making your lives hell, because now you might actually have to raise the level of your game to keep your spot on the card. I told you all from the start. We're not here to take over. We're here to RAISE THE BAR. And I'll admit, there's a handful of people in that locker room who've done exactly that. But it's a damn shame none of them are getting into the cage at Iconoclasm. Instead, what do we get? A bunch of people who sucked dick and played politics since we showed up. Talent dead set on holding back other talent. A group of wrestlers banding together, to help SPW's product, by KILLING SPW'S PRODUCT, and not allowing the roster to grow, becuase it might hurt their ego. Boo hoo, Knight might actually have to face Davis. Monet might have her spot taken by a man. Eddie Christian might go back to being a low- level nobody, and James O'Connor might not get his quick path to the top like everyone wanted. We didn't come in as invaders from IGA and declare war on you. We came as SPW talent, and were declared war upon by SPW talent. If you win, what do you get? Maybe you get to sit on top of the food chain for what, another month or so? You gonna wish for it all to go away? For your spot to not be threatened? I kow what contract I signed, and there's no stipulation, or 'Deathwish', that's sending me anywhere else. I'm not Bryan Vincent getting sent down to the minors. I'm the Red fucking Dragon, and I am coming to eat. I'd say you would be nothing more than a snack, but your egos are too god damn filling. Thank god I'm bringing friends that are just as hungry as I am for the taste of the blood of those that wanna play games with people's careers in the ring. You don't have to like me, or the rest of my team. You don't have to respect us either. we're here, we're not going anywhere, and maybe after we beat that into you in the Deathwish Cage, you'll understand that there's not a god-damned thing you can do about it. [Dragon slides off the hood of his rental car, turned fully to the camera, the RDS dress shirt rippling in the oceanic breeze.] Maybe then, you 'Superstars' of Shootfire Pro.... you'll realize that it's not all about you. Maybe then you'll realize that you're still not ready to be where you are. [Dragon gets into the car, turning the key as he's sat around on the side of the road long enough. the annoying bing noise behind him the product of the still open door.] We'll find out soon enough, won't we, San Diego? [As the door slams shut on the Prius, and this interview, and Red Dragon pulls back onto I-5, we are left with nothing but a setting California sun to watch.] [Fade.] _____________________________________________________________________________ |_____________________________________________________________________________| |__ICONOCLASM_________________________________________________________________| "WILD" BILL IAN _____________________________________________________________________________ |_________________________________________________________________________SPW_| |_____________________________________________________________________________| [Sitting behind a table is none other than one of the Defiant Ones, "Wild" Bill Ian. "Wild" Bill wears a pair of aviator sunglasses, his dyed blonde hair is a mess and it looks like he hasn't seen a razor in a few days. Pretty much what he always looks like. He is wearing a long black shirt which has the "Ramones" written across the top with an American Eagle logo underneath which says "New York". Bill gives a deep sigh, thought provoking really. And in calm manner he begins to speak directly and clearly... even trying to mask his Alabama accent a little bit, but that comes through.] WBI: We've been call a lot of things, a lot of different things; agitators, defiant ones, rebels... Invaders. And for the most part y'all have listened like good little sheep should. Follow the leader, follow the line. Remember, good guys wear the white hats. Bad guys wear the black hats. That's all yer being told, then they point at the black hats, they point at us. [Bill points at the camera to demonstrate what he means. His hands are wrapped up in white tape as if he was getting for a fight.] WBI: Yeah... sure, we blew up Deathknell. A man who fed off carnage and destruction, a man who took pleasure in causin' extreme amounts of pain to everyone he got into the ring with. Hell, opponent or not, if you were stupid enough to get into his way he probably would have hurt you. Yet you call him a hero? Was he wearing a white hat? [Bill shakes his head slowly side to side.] WBI: Sure, we put a couple of guys on the shelf, victims of war we never intended or wanted. A war forced upon us, by yer labels. All we wanted was a little slice of the respect pie being passed around so much, a little taste of what we never got before. Is that so bad? Fighting for a little respect? Is that worthy of wearing a black hat? [Again Bill shakes his head slowly side to shide.] WBI: So we made fun of the guys backstage? Aren't we just livin' to being called entertainers as much as we are being called wrestlers? Seems to me as if Shootfire has always embraced the entertainment portion a little bit more. And we're the bad guys? For makin' you laugh? [This time he shrugs his shoulders.] WBI: A few months ago, Sammy Knight made a plea to the entire locker room, his call to arms against us. Yet, Knight sits on the sidelines with an arm injury... I'm sorry. [Bill raises both hands into the air and does the double finger quotes.] WBI: Arm Injury. [Really mocking Kinght's injury.] WBI: ...Makin' others fight their battles for them while they sit on the sidelines and pull strings like a puppet. That makes you a hero? Where I'm from we have 'nother word fer someone like that... a politician. And did he ever lift a finger while the Shootfire roster tore itself apart? Nope. He simply talked more. Like a good politician. [Bill goes back to being really matter of fact. This are serious charges, afterall.] WBI: When they were willin' to sacrifice their careers in the Boneyard did Knight ever try to simply unify instead? Prevent a career endin' injury? No. And no. Sound like someone who wears a white hat? Or does it sound like someone trying to keep his title? Pullin' strings to hold desperately onto his power? [Very animatedly he holds his hands up and dangles his fingers as if he were putting on a puppet play.] WBI: Perhaps y'all need to start lookin' 'round and askin' these questions. Start doin' a little thinkin', just who is callin' the shots? Is it you? Are you in control? Or are you booin' because a politician is pointin' their finger in a direction. Maybe if he was pointin' like this... ["Wild" Bill holds his arm above over his head like a good Nazi would to salute their Fuhrer. He holds it into the air for a second or two to give the full effect that he is looking for. Slowly he puts it back down.] WBI: ...It'd be a little more obvious. Maybe. But, they do call y'all marks for a reason. [Bill shurgs his shoulders and gives a face as if to say, 'sorry but it's true'.] WBI: The Deathwish Cage match... brutal. An attempt to crush us Invaders once and fer all... no, not crush... exterminate. [That causes him to smirk.] WBI: That's all it is, they want to round us all up and simply get rid of us. But we're gonna fight, oh, we're gonna give them the fight of their lives. We're fighting for survival and they're fightin' at the whim of politician graspin' fer power. So, y'all are gonna hafta ask yerselves just who is wearin' the white hats? [He thinks about if for a minute, even rubs his chin. And gives pause. More pause. And more for good measure. That's when his arm goes off camera and he places a black stetson hat on his head and gives a shit eating grin.] WBI: Marks. [With that we fade.] _____________________________________________________________________________ |_____________________________________________________________________________| |__ICONOCLASM_________________________________________________________________| JEAN PIERRE CELINE _____________________________________________________________________________ |_________________________________________________________________________SPW_| |_____________________________________________________________________________| [Anything...] [So many choices...] [Grainy old 8 millimetre film shows tinsel strung up across a large ceiling, golden ornaments dangle from each green string. The amateur photographer shifts the camera down to his wife's bust, she smiles and playfully chastises him, then turns to the right, waving. Our image follows the wave past a line of frightened children, through the crowd of a mall, to a sleigh, some elves that look like teenage girls. Fake snow forms a mound, on top of which is a jolly Saint Nick, sitting on a throne. Why do mall Santa's have thrones? A terrified four-year-old takes little solace in his mother's wave, almost crying for the flashbulb. Rocking the child on his knee, the portly man in the Santa outfit HO's soothingly, before posing the question, "what do you want for Christmas?"] "I can wish for anything. It may not come true, but zzze sky is zzze limit! I never wished for world peace. I wasn't a selfish child, but I was blissfully naive, who knew zzze world needed peace? I never asked for anything lofty, like ending world 'unger, apartheid, or zzze menace of international communism! Zzze world is your oyster, but zzze innocence of youth prevents requests for Heidi Klum's phone number. What did I ask for? Was it a ray gun? Or maybe it was a pet dog? Perhaps, a pony? ...I can tell you one zzzing... I may 'ave been ignorant, but even as a child, I wasn't retarded enough to ask for a title shot, or zzze book." [Who actually wants to see the Shootfire team's wishes? Marissa Monet gets to challenge the world title, James O'Connor gets to crunch the numbers with Henry Spikes, and Eddie Christian gets Sammy Knight as HIS sidekick for a change. Does that interest anyone? In the ancient family footage, the impatient Santa Claus musters another smile as he repeats the question. The little boy looks like a deer caught in some headlights. He turns those horrified eyes to his parents for a minute, then turns back, throwing up in the mall Santa's lap. Everyone laughs, and points at the kid. A few of them point at the Santa, but mostly at the kid. His parents start rushing over to take him away from this traumatizing incident, turning off the camera along the way.] "Am I nothing but a joke?" [The crash of lightning, changes scenes to the high definition footage we're used to viewing during SPW broadcasts. Rain is pouring down, running through a drain pipe, spilling out of eave, splashing down on Lil' Tommy the orphan. The child shivers under the torrential downpour, leaning against a filthy wall for shelter, waiting outside of a sleazy nightclub. No one under eighteen permitted. Deranged hobos and prostitutes alike give the child dirty looks. For the past few months, this child has been put through a series of negligent and abusive horrors designed to get laughs. Jean Pierre Celine is written off as a comedy act, for trying to amuse the fans. Consider that his depraved mind constructed a series of child abuse jokes for you... is that comedy, or the work of a monster? As Lil' Tommy coughs up some blood, our concerned cameraman leaves him, pushing through the scum encrusted door, to enter the dingy club.] "A PRIEST, A RABBI, AND A MONKEY WALK INTO A BAR----------------" [Our videographer almost walks into a waitress, it takes awhile to adjust to the darkness, and even after that, the dive is dank. A sad, old comedian practically reads zingers out of a bigot's joke book, as he wanders around a stage, trying to work the crowd up for the next burlesque act. It isn't working. Whether it's the offensive jokes, or the corny ones, the old man is dying on stage. Could be age as well. Most of the patrons cough or jeer loudly, or register their complaints with scantily dressed waitresses, but no one appreciates the humour. Almost. Loud, hoarse, forced laughter echoes from a table close to the edge of stage right.] "-------------STICKS HIS DICK IN THE PRIEST'S DRINK!!!!!!!!" [The cameraman weaves around filthy, candle lit tables, darting towards the front of the show. The shrill laughter is getting to even the odious comedian. By the time we reach the front of the room, tears are streaming down Jean Pierre Celine's porcelain cheeks. The 2nd Generation of Vile "Vince" Viper slams his fist on the table, in appreciation of such fine hate. Two prostitutes are seated next to Celine at his table. At the abrasive French Fuck's urging, the ladies of the evening eventually join in quietly. The Crimson Cobra is decked out in a red, snakeskin suit; arm wrapped around one hooker, while slurping back cognac with the free hand. A cigarette dangles from the European's mouth, the full ashtray in front of him a grim reminder of his chain smoking championship. Seeing the videographer, JPC INSISTS he pulls up a seat to watch this MASTER comedian at work.] Jean Pierre Celine: "Death wish? What I wouldn't do for a _decent_ cup of coffee." [Zing! Celine polishes off his cognac, slamming the glass to the table. The unpleasant vaudevillian thanks the audience for their time; Celine pulls his arm away from the whore, clapping violently for his new hero. The Viler One didn't catch the old man's name, but he's tempted to become the second generation of this new odious influence. What's this? Silence? You could hear a grasshopper. You DO hear grasshoppers! Turning in his chair, Celine starts clapping at the rest of the audience, trying to get them to join in... dull gazes greet him. What morons. Thoroughly irritated, Celine slumps back down in his chair, before turning his sulk into a WINNING SMILE for his loyal fans.] Jean Pierre Celine: "Comedy is a strange zzzing. Zzzere is no accounting for 'ow one country's 'umour will translate, or what one's audience will react positively too. One man's Jacque Tati is another man's Dane Cook. I enjoy zzze work of Jerry Lewis, myself. In my country, 'e's like Charlie Chaplin, Groucho Marx, and Richard Pryor rolled into one. In your country, 'e's Jerry Lewis. Some people zzzink 'e's god, other people would kill 'im if zzzey 'ad a free afternoon. So some people consider me a joke? A jester? A fool! Zzze weak link of zzze Invaders, kept around for comedic appeal. Zzzat's 'ow you interpret my work, my character, and my 'umour. Just because I don't talk "zzze shit" about my opponents, I am a pariah. I don't zzzink my interviews lack merit. I'd rather you enjoyed watching zzzem, maybe chuckled, zzzan 'ave my opponent impressed by my bigger balls. Zzzis doesn't mean I can't do it... it just means your limited American schooling 'asn't prepared your feeble minds to appreciate zzze intellectual zzzoughts I offer. Don't take it personally... it's not your fault you are culturally retarded. Still, as we enter zzze death wish cage match... I do zzzings differently, and as a result, am considered zzze weak link when nothing could be further from zzze truth. Zzzis annoys me. You don't 'ave to understand my 'umour, or even my speech... you just 'ave to appreciate it. Was I asking too much? Would it 'ave killed you? It will. Now we will see who zzze real joke is... who will 'ave zzze last laugh!" [Cutting back to old family footage, a Christmas morning sees the traumatized child and his brothers run downstairs, racing for the presents sitting under the tree. The four-year-old looks tired. A sleepless night, not for excitement at what Santa brought him, but rather out of fear of reprisal for the vomit. Tearing open his first gift, the boy finds a puppet... just like his favourite show, "Les Guignols de L'info!" The child proudly holds up his precious toy for the camera, wanting a video record that Santa doesn't bare grudges. It dawns on you viewers, that the puppet looks a lot like Derek Weaver.] Jean Pierre Celine: "For a long time, us French were zzze butt of jokes, despised by zzze world... 'ow zzze worm turns, ugly Americans. 'ow zzze worm turns." [The chorus girls are kicking up a storm to the tunes of Prodigy's "Smack My Bitch Up!" Back in the grungy club, the Crimson Cobra downs another cognac, trying to make small talk with the prostitutes. They look bored. Isn't he speaking English? Wiping his mouth with a snakeskin handkerchief (!), the Defiant One is quick to flash the camera his WINNING SMILE.] Jean Pierre Celine: "I 'aven't really given much zzzought to a death wish... I wish death on a lot of people. I've mostly been enjoying zzze zzzoughts of punishing others. It'd be really nice to force Marissa to wrestle in a strap- on for a year. A representation of zzze dick she wishes she 'ad. But at zzze end of zzze day... win, or lose... doesn't really affect me. If I win I can make zzzeir lives more unbearable... if I lose, what delights could zzzey get out of tormenting me? Oh, zzzey disband zzze Invasion? Don't know if you've noticed, but over zzze past few shows, me and Bill 'ave made ourselves TOP DRAWS... Shootfire Management would sign us to contracts in a second, just for ratings. You want to 'umiliate me? I can zzzink of NOTHING more degrading zzzan 'aving to wrestle zzze four defenders. Zzzat's zzze bottom of zzze barrel... zzze low point of my career... make me wrestle in a dress? Zzzere's nowhere to go but up. Zzze Invaders 'ave nothing to lose... force us out of zzze fed? We disturb shit, but we'd make a lot more money outside of exclusive contracts. NO, Shootfire Pro... for all your mind games, you're getting on zzze same page, and telling us what better wrestlers you are... what better people... FOR ALL THAT... you've put yourselves in a situation you can't win. Get zzze victory... you're still zzze losers. It's an impossible situation. What a bunch of fucking jokes. " [Celine wraps an arm around the other call girl, trying to get her to join in the fun, laughing and pointing at the Shootfire four. An irritated waitress walks up...] Waitress: "For the last time sir... this is a no smoking section." [Forcing a smile for the waitress, Jean Pierre puts the fag out on his tongue, never losing the grin. The waitress stomps off. Seconds later, Celine is smoking up another storm... this dive might not smell half as bad without him blowing smoke rings at the dancing girls.] Jean Pierre Celine: "Who are you trying to kid? What assholes... and you look down on _ME_ for zzze company _I_ keep?" [We cut to some pre-recorded footage of Lil' Tommy the Orphan. You can mock Celine for having a five-year-old as his manager, but that five-year-old was one card away from being the TSWF tag team champion. You could mock TSWF, but it WAS SPW's feeder fed. You could mock TSWF.] "James O'Connor... 'ow long 'ave you been with zzze company?" [A car drops Lil' Tommy off outside the orphanage. The nuns there beat him mercilessly. He wants to run away, but the moment Celine's car has disappeared from sight, "Registered Sex Offender" Frank Wilkes starts to run towards the kid, waving some candy. The world can be cruel. Lil' Tommy runs up some stairs, pushing through a door, into the orphanage. Another one of his friends is gone. Lil' Tommy spends so much time at wrestling events that he isn't around when prospective parents are looking to adopt.] "Didn't you make your debut around zzze time we invaded? What gives you zzze right to be 'ere, while we are some zzzreat? What makes you a 'ome grown talent? 'ow DARE you of all people, zzzink you can judge us! Who zzze 'ell are you? At what point do you deserve to be in zzze ring with all time GREATS like zzze Defiant Ones? Your sense of entitlement it truly impressive, it's so conceited, so vile... in another situation, we could be friends. ...Zzze situation where you aren't some ass kissing faggot! I'm told my little impression of your contract negotiations with Spikes got under your skin. Got you so upset, zzzat you went down on 'im, demanding a match with me. Apparently your oral arts aren't as good as you pride yourself, as zzzat match 'as yet to be realized." [As the months roll on, and Tommy gets more popular, appears more and more readily, with every return, the orphanage seems more and more empty. A world without orphans. Lil' Tommy should be happy, not lonely. What a selfish piece of shit. Children never look at the big picture. They're so driven by their own instant gratification. Who cares if James O'Connor isn't ready to main event a pay per view... the kids got spunk. Henry Spikes' spunk. Lil' Tommy stands in an empty room, looking around for friends, desperate for attention. What a joke.] "Still... in zzzis cage setting, where you 'ave been PUSHED to zzze forefront, zzze spunky young kid whose doing 'is damnest to play with zzze big boys... you might put your 'ands on me. You might actually land a shot... try to 'urt me... why? Because I called it like it is? We're villains because we're trying to be recognized for our outside accomplishments... zzzis zzzreatens people like you who 'ave NO outside accomplishments. Zzze zzzing is, you 'ave no Shootfire accomplishments either. So I am a bad guy, for taking zzze SPW faithful's jobs? You weren't two months in zzze company, when you were 'andpicked to main event a show, to DEFEND a world title. Where were zzze guys who'd paid zzzeir dues zzzen? Oh right, curtain jerking for your self-absorbed ass! I'm a monster? I try to do something a little different, I try to entertain... I try to offer something different... and because I'm different, you somehow zzzink you're better zzzan me? Even for a young punk you're kind of annoying. Well O'Connor, you're in for a rude wake-up call." [Too old to be adopted, the ugly five-year-old is sent packing to a halfway house. The people there don't treat him well; maybe this will make a man out of him? Forced to grow up too soon, the cutest wrestling orphan soon outlives his welcome... moving from halfway house to halfway house. He's damaged goods. There is no bright future for the kid. ...All because he wanted too much, too soon, and wasn't content staying in his place.] "Zzze fact zzzat zzze audience would cheer a 'ypocritical piece of shit like you, over me... over Bill... I just don't get Americans. Bill is a fucking saint. You know... at zzze start of zzze season, I zzzought DEATHKNELL 'ad my number. Zzzen like an angel, "Wild" Bill Ian took zzzat lumbering brute out of zzze equation. DEATHKNELL... zzze scourge of SPW, and "Wild" Bill ended 'is career! ...Could "Wild" Bill 'ave done it by 'imself? I'd like to zzzink zzzat DEATHKNELL 'aving to team with a green punk like you might have 'elped. Just completely useless to your partner, more of a 'indrance zzzan a 'elp... zzze kind of guy you'd rather murder, zzzan team with. I wanted to zzzank you for your 'elp in zzzat little situation... I was actually going to go easy on you out of appreciation. ...But now zzzat you've taken up zzze rear to force yourself into a match, you 'ave no business being a part of? Not anymore. You've buried yourself in a situation zzzat's bigger zzzan you... and when zzze Defiant Ones get zzzrough... well, you'll be SUCKING 'enry Spikes' dick zzzrough a straw!" [JUMP CUT to a few frames of a Puppet of James O'Connor melting in a fireplace. Cutting back to the present, we find a drunken Celine in the middle of the chorus line, kicking his gams up in the air like a real professional. A member of management starts yelling obscenities up at the stage. More than one security guard is begging to beat the shit out of him. Thinking their complaining about the dancing over the smoking, Jean Pierre takes another long drag before staggering back to his seat. The escorts don't look overjoyed at his presence.] Jean Pierre Celine: "Marissa Monet wants to defend Shootfire's 'onour? Where zzze FUCK does she get off? We're just a couple of salt of the earth everymen trying to join a successful organization, trying to earn some roster spots... and you look down at us? You look to prevent our wrestling 'ere? Who zzze FUCK are you to judge? [We cut to some private footage of Marissa Monet making a sandwich. Or rather a brown bear wearing a bra, that looks SPOT ON like the shark. Ben the wrestling Bear is making a clubhouse. The last time he was making a sandwich, Ben found there was no bacon, and threw a hissy fit, leaving Celine's apartment for good. Since no one else will let wild bears into their homes to make food, Ben had no choice but to come back. Ben came up with a valid reason he should be let back in, but Celine doesn't understand bear. Stupid, isn't it? Still, despite being resented by everyone, who don't understand, or want the bear around, Marissa... Ben is making a sandwich.] "Oh, a Shootfire Original? Zzze way I 'ear it Jacob Volga CARRIED you into zzze men's scene, zzzen Victor Frost bent over backwards trying to make you look good... and when all of Black Mass couldn't pool zzzeir resources to make you look like a world contender, you decided to cut your losses! So you 'eaded out to VXW, left Shootfire in its time of need to see if you could compete with MEN in a smaller pond. Kiddie pool, actually. Well, despite taking a pay cut, VXW wasn't meant to be... I know my degenerate gambler friend, Wild Bill, wouldn't be 'ere if Vegas 'ad ANY kind of wrestling market. So zzze butch bitch ABANDONS Shootfire, joins VXW, destroys any credibility zzze fed 'as... what with its stars 'aving to SELL for a no talent whore like you, and to NOBODY'S surprise, VXW shuts down." [Some animal control workers kick in the kitchen door, shooting Marissa with some heavy duty tranquilizer darts. I mean Ben, not Marissa, BEN with tranquilizer darts. Still, I'm not sure Marissa could pass a urine test. The brown bear staggers back into the fridge, going into early hibernation. When the beast wakes up, it finds itself in a zoo... being mocked by fat Americans, who enjoy throwing peanuts at the animal. What a freak show. Marissa might as well be in the Jim Rose circus. Ben swats around some peanuts... they're good... but it's no clubhouse.] "So zzzere you are standing in zzzat cold Nevada wind, 'olding zzze imaginary penis you envy... and when no other federation will take your NO TALENT FREAK SHOW ASS... well, you suddenly get filled with pride for Shootfire! Scratch zzzat, you don't get filled with pride, you go right back to doing your own little zzzing, in your own little world, 'oping zzze collective efforts of BLACK MASS can keep you employed... and when it looks like even Victor Frost can't pull it off, it's only ZZZEN zzzat you decide to defend zzze 'onour of Shootfire. With "defenders" like you, who needs enemies?" [Back at the lounge, Jean Pierre Celine puts out another cigarette before a waitress can tell him off, only to light another. There is a mountain of ashes in the plate in front of him. His street walkers look like they're going to throw up from all the smoke, if not the company. Celine takes a long hard drag before continuing...] Jean Pierre Celine: "...Funny zzzing is, we've been "invading" for longer zzzan you've been rebuilding. Where zzze 'ell were you, when Shootfire _needed_ 'elp? Now, you can spin any yarns you'd like... and act like it IDN'T 'appen... or maybe you can lay it all out zzzere, and 'ope zzze fans can find it in zzzeir 'earts to forgive you. Who knows, SPW might even put some plants in zzze audience with signs zzzat makes it look like zzzey believe you. Zzzey don't. 'ave you enjoyed wrestling with zzze men, bitch? I don't see it lasting for long. We 'ave a laundry list of penalties to zzzrow out zzzere... I 'ear VXW is starting back up. Loyal company MAN zzzat you are..." [A few frames bleed through of flames crawling up a Marissa Monet puppet's hair. The image is soon replaced by another, a knock at Celine's apartment door. A far more sober Jean Pierre opens it to find, some detectives... some questionable material has been downloaded onto his computer. Before he can be arrested, Celine points to the Registered Sex Offender currently sleeping on his couch. Dragging him from his slumber, the detectives roughly manhandle Frank Wilkes, the creep pleading innocence, while Celine turns back to his computer. Betrayal. Back at the club, Celine contemplates how many triple turns will occur during the deathwish...] Jean Pierre Celine: "Eddie Christian... when I first got 'ere, nobody really knew who I was." [The Crimson Cobra blows a smoke ring up at one of the dancers, causing her to cough violently. Leaning back against his chair, Celine wraps his arms around the ho's again... mistaking their paid service for the kind of friendship Hustle and Swagger enjoy...] Jean Pierre Celine: "Oh, zzzey understood zzzen, zzzat "Wild" Bill, and myself, had helped IGA consistently beat SPW in zzze ratings... everyone knows zzzat. ...But zzzey saw me as one of DEATHKNELL's annoying sidekicks... zzzen zzzey saw me as an "Invader." Kind of a cold backstage atmosphere... but zzzere was always one guy, I knew wouldn't stab me in zzze back, ONE guy I nodded too politely. Zzzat was you Eddie... I felt we were kindred souls." [CUT TO FOOTAGE of Jean Pierre nodding to Eddie Christian. FOOTAGE NOT FOUND! What's this? I swear it happened. Oh right, even having another character standing around while you yell at them without permission, without giving them an opportunity to respond, is a douchebag move. I almost forgot. I'm not saying the incident didn't happen, I'm just saying Celine is probably lying...] Jean Pierre Celine: "I was DEATHKNELL's comedic sidekick, just as you are Sammy Knight's offensive bitch. Or was it ironic gangsta stereotype? Of course, between us, I was just biding my time before LEADING zzze invasion. Are you bidding your time, Eddie? No one actually zzzinks you're a member of Shootfire Pro, or rather, zzzey zzzink you'll betray your team at zzze drop of a 'at. It doesn't take an idiot man child with shit running down 'is back - your average Shootfire fan - to realize you're just stringing zzze kid along, to maximize zzze 'eat for your world title feud. ...What 'eat? You see Eddie, zzze reason I always nodded politely was because I zzzought you were zzze Invasion. I 'onestly didn't zzzink you were in Shootfire... my fault for not following zzze product, or yours for not being obvious? Zzze only zzzing I can remember about you, was in IGA giving an impassioned speech about what a shit hole SPW was. Zzzat's your 'ighlight. Oh, you were just lying, to get a little popular support in zzze IGA? ...You didn't really mean what you said? Do you mean it now? Zzzere is zero reason for you to be in zzze death wish. Only, of course you'd death wish, your pathetic second run career should have been euthanized years ago. You're zzze poster child of zzze death wish... when I 'ear you promo, I wish I was dead. Terri Schiavo has NOTHING on you, Eddie!" [The NEW Cheap Heat Machine waves his hand around for another cognac. Frames of a puppet of Eddie Christian appear, not burning like the others, because he's on our team. Or he was. We cut to another scene, right after Derek Weaver walked out... as leader of the Invasion, Celine feels like giving Weaver a piece of his mind. Since Weaver has run away, Celine instead berates Puppet Derek Weaver. The Living Theatre sits complacently on Celine's couch, letting VVV2 run off a little steam, as the man mountain watches a Braves game. Is something warm? The Living Theatre turns from his game to find his arm up in flames, Celine having set the Weaver puppet on fire.] Sammy Knight... poor broken Sammy Knight... you are broken, right? [The flames catch the theatre... ripping off the puppet, and the rest of his elaborate costume, the wrestler portraying Living Theatre staggers out of the room, holding his arm in agony. Not caring about his friend, Celine stands over the burning theatre... watching Derek Weaver get what he deserves! When you're not a team player, those are the breaks. Derek Weaver was only looking out for number one. Feed the flames...] "'ow will zzze wonder kid pull off beating down zzze Invasion, zzzen successfully defending 'is title belt, all with a broken arm? Zzze odds are really stacked against you... or are zzzey? Seems to me, everyone is putting zzzeir money on Team Baldwin. Even when zzzey 'ire riffraff like Monet and O'Connor, zzzere are no worries, because you can beat anyone we zzzrow at you, right? Shootfire management 'as so much confidence in you, Sammy, zzzey'd let zzzat irritating fraud, Baldwin, dictate match stipulations to create a team... for all zzze good zzzat did 'im. Zzzey really didn't care who your partners were... NO ONE DOES... because Sammy Knight is invincible! ...You are a cancer, Sammy." [Along with the burning Weaver are a dozen other puppets, each in the likeness of a famous wrestler, each turning to ashes under the intense heat of the fire. Frank Ewiak. Gabriel Van Zahn. Steve Liermann. Poet Wright. Rick Styles. Dave Pietka. Tiffany Lane. The flames creep up the theatre, setting more puppets ablaze. In the centre of the raging inferno is the Sammy Knight puppet. The fire won't touch it. Everything can burn down around it, but Sammy Knight is untouchable.] "I'm sure you 'ave all sorts of interesting insights, you can see zzze 'eart of zzze situation, you can point out all our problems, all our angst, and take us to school on why you're going to win. You're really good at zzzat... aren't you, Knight? Ever turn zzze mirror on yourself? Ever go to zzze REALLY dark places... not zzze ones you don't want to talk about on national television? You can pull yourself up from zzze ghetto... reach up for zzze heavens, make something of yourself, create a good life. ...Zzze more zzzings change. Rather zzzan escape a bad situation, you just drag it with you... your cross to bear. Zzze law of zzze jungle, kill or be killed... you've gotten a 'igh paying job, you work 'ard, you're zzze best... but nothing 'as changed. You still 'ave guys gunning for you. Still 'ave people looking to ice you, to carve a reputation for zzzemselves. You didn't escape anything; you just damned another group of people." [The plastic faces of the toys melt away, while the felt bodies curl into themselves. For inanimate objects, these puppets look tortured. Victor Frost's nose collapses. Barry Baldwin is melting... no, it hasn't been affected yet, Barry Baldwin just looks disgusting. The flames burn off Owen Cage's face... not so perfect now, melted plastic splashing over onto Colt Montana. It looks like a Bosch vision of hell... and in the centre, the puppet of Sammy Knight is practically covered in a golden glow.] "Is it zzze nature of wrestling? No. You can walk into any other organization, and you'll find a much more relaxed environment... a 'ealthy outlook, and positive mindset. Zzze Shootfire exclusive clause isn't in place to keep guys like Dan Broussard from jumping ship to rival feds... it's zzzere to keep 'im from realizing 'ow negative, and backwards zzzis federation really is. ...Are you made in Shootfire's image, Sammy, or is Shootfire made in yours? ...'ave zzze Defiant Onez done anything other than put on good wrestling shows... toss out some amusing antics, interesting promos... we tried to offer zzze fans some comedy... what did we get? You declared war on us, Sammy. 'ow fucked in zzze 'ead do you 'ave to be to see yourself as zzze victim in all of zzzis? Too make yourself out as zzze FUCKING hero? So _you_ picked a fight. You were zzze defacto leader anyway, might as well put you in charge of a team. Zzzey can be ANYONE... zzzey're just zzzeir as window dressing for zzze great Sammy Knight. Some promising talent, guys like Ewiak or Quinn could 'ave been involved... nah; let's bring in your friends, even if they've done NOTHING eventful since getting back. So in a wild eight man match, where rising stars can shine in a MAIN EVENT zzzey'll never see otherwise... YOU 'OLD ZZZEM BACK. Zzze guys you do bring in don't 'ave to try, because as always, it's all on you, YOU STAGNATE ZZZEIR GROWTH. No one can challenge you for zzze title... no one stands a chance... you ingrain zzzat in zzzeir minds. Poor Andrew Davis feels 'e needs you to wrestle twice, just to stand a chance. YOU INTIMIDATE ZZZEM INTO MEDIOCRITY!!! Zzzen when you've castrated zzze roster, some new guys come in... and you try to run zzzem out! Zzzey don't fit in with your 'eaven... zzze paradise you've been climbing too... zzze paradise you ruined." [All that remains of the Living Theatre are some dying embers, soot, and a puddle of wax. Overlooking this atrocity is the untouchable puppet of Sammy Knight. Its inanimate face is almost smiling over the revolting mass. Something very sinister about that man...] "Shootfire Pro doesn't 'ave to try... zzzey 'ave Sammy Knight. Who needs to build new talent? Who needs to listen to fans? ...You are zzze centre of zzze Shootfire Pro universe... even if you're zzze brightest star, you 'ave a responsibility, to your coworkers, to your friends, to you fans, to your family, to yourself... and if doing right by all of them, lead us to zzzis conflict... to zzzis match... zzzen what was zzze FUCKING point? No Sammy Knight... for zzze good on zzze Invasion... for zzze good of Shootfire... you are one cancer zzzat zzze Defiant Ones are going to CUT OUT." Waitress: "Sir, we don't allow smoking here, now we've tried to be nice about it, but now I'm asking you to leave." [Back at the seedy club that apparently has principles, Jean Pierre Celine looks DUMBFOUNDED at the waitress's request. His mouth drops, he's that surprised. The cigarette dangles from his lip. The only thing more shocking would be if Spooky DOOM showed up in the main event, beat up Barry Baldwin, then proceeded to double swerve by HELPING SPW get the win. ...That wouldn't go over well. That shocked! Reaching up Celine slowly peels the fag from his lip...] Jean Pierre Celine: "Of course miss..." [VILE "VINCE" VIPER (part 2) reaches up, grabbing the waitress by her curly hair, yanking her down onto the table. Celine flashes the camera his WINNING SMILE, before putting the cigarette out on the girl's cheek. She screams... the working girls run... I'm running out of prostitute nicknames to use. Celine lets the waitress go, allowing her to run off camera, just in time to kick one of the comfort girl's in the ass, sending her to the floor. After all that Marissa bashing you all indulge in, this misogyny can't come as a surprise. Celine laughs... like a little school girl.] Jean Pierre Celine: "'ilarious!" [Jumping up, Celine starts pointing at the downed tart, laughing uncontrollably ...expecting the crowd to join in. The waitress is clearly an actress you marks. The crowd is silent, reproachful, a little scared...] Jean Pierre Celine: "Does no one get it? I'm a clown. So you must zzzink I'm a laugh fucking riot, no? Zzzis doesn't appeal to your sense of 'umour? Zzze kind of person who does zzzis is a MONSTER... fucked in zzze 'ead, whether it's real or not? And 'ere I zzzought Americans were legally retarded. You see... maybe you've experienced a culture shock. Maybe I'm disgusting you, intimidating you, scaring you... but I'm not breaking character. So at zzze Pay Per VILE... when you lock up with a man you zzzink is a bumbling idiot... expect to be IN on zzze FUCKING JOKE!!!" [Some bouncers start to charge forwards, only for Celine to throw a chair at them. Breathing hard, the intoxicated European finishes off another cognac, then kicks the working girl in the ass again. The bouncers move in... so Celine throws his glass at them. He can be Vile Vince Viper... too.] Jean Pierre Celine : "So zzzere you 'ave it. ...A world champion zzzat's so dominant, 'e's not only made 'imself zzze centre of zzze product, but 'e's made zzze product revolve around 'im... desperately need 'im. ...'is sidekick, whose so busy looking for a place to put zzze knife, 'e's forgot 'e 'as to make people believe... or even care otherwise. ...A freak show novelty act, zzzat spends all 'er time trying to justify her existence, while completely negating it. ...A cocky untested youth using managerial favour to push 'imself into a position 'e 'as no right or skill, to 'andle. ...All managed by a washed up 'as-been, zzzat no one even remembers EVER wrestling, who's made it 'IS team, not zzze company's. ...And zzze kicker? Zzze brash guy, who's been a team player despite rubbing everyone zzze wrong way, actually makes a go at getting on zzze team for zzze right reasons, but gets kicked off because 'is gimmick is retarded. Zzze guy who represents zzze BULK of zzze Shootfire roster gets removed, because like zzze rest of zzzem, 'e's an incredible asshole. In zzzat one gesture, I zzzink you've summed up all zzze problems with zzze company, all zzze problems with you team, and why... even if you end up getting zzze wishes... even if you get zzze win... you're still zzze losers in zzzis situation. YOU... YOU PEOPLE are zzze fucking joke. ...And while it might not appeal to everyone's sense of 'umour, I'm laughing my fucking lungs out. GREAT FUCKING PUNCH LINE!!!!!!!!!!!! [The bouncers finally charge, about to "punch line" Celine into another plane of existence. We jump cut to a rapid series of images of the various Shootfire death wish puppets in different states of torture. We speed up the footage to have them melt before our eyes. James O'Connor. Marissa Monet. Eddie Christian. The immaculate Puppet Sammy Knight. All of them living on borrowed time. All of them with death wishes. As the image fades, you wonder if they get the joke.] _____________________________________________________________________________ |_____________________________________________________________________________| |__ICONOCLASM_________________________________________________________________| THE SHOOTFIRE ARMY _____________________________________________________________________________ |_________________________________________________________________________SPW_| |_____________________________________________________________________________| [Begin transmission.] “E Pluribus Unum” [An absolute majestic skyline of our nation’s beautiful natural scenery fills your screen. As dusk falls upon part of America’s heartland, the sun barely peeks up over the horizon, painting an incredibly serene orange tint upon the horizon. As the aerial view, most likely taken from a helicopter, pans across the endless and utterly amazing Great Plains the location is typewritten across the bottom of your television screen: S O U T H D A K O T A As quickly as the letters appear, they soon are erased from your screen as the beauty of America’s Midwest refuses to take a backseat. Signs of the changing seasons; as summer meticulously changes to fall are naturally demonstrated in the dead brush and traditional autumn colors. As the scenery’s viewing pace speeds up, your eyes stumble upon an area of dense forest and potentially misplaced elevation. The surrounding flat areas are juxtaposed against a dark and hilly areas as well as rock canyons of sorts. Not quite a mountain yet definitively larger than a hill, stands what some may describe as the definitive American landmark. Once again, letters are painted gently at the bottom of the screen: M O U N T R U S H M O R E As the camera pans around to the front of this iconic American treasure, you immediately recognize it. While somewhat static on paper; in person, it truly is breathtaking. Carved into the side of a granite plateau, the globally recognized busts of George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, Theodore Roosevelt and Abraham Lincoln converse in unity against the fading summer sky. Four presidents… …each serving in greatly different eras… …meeting the needs of a diverse population both American and worldly… …sacrificing for the greater good… …standing up for the amazing ideals of not only what America has been, but will be… You quickly zoom from in front of the four former leaders of the free world and representative of the first 150 years of our nation’s history to a restricted area on top of the monument where a helicopter is in the midst of landing. The black helicopter, courtesy of Sioux Scenic Tours, hovers momentarily before landing. As the propellers wind down, the trees and natural underbrush fight a losing battle, being blown against their natural will. As the propeller comes to a stop, the door opens. One by one, the four individuals representing Shootfire Professional Wrestling proudly step foot from the helicopter. Stepping out first is none other than SPW’s first lady, “The Great Black Shark” Marissa Monet. As she steps out, the following words of doubt appear at the bottom of the screen as time stops and her image is freeze-framed in black and white: T H E W E A K E R G E N D E R ? ? ? Monet is wearing a custom SPW themed black track suit. The letters S, P and W are proudly displayed down the right leg while her surname is seen on the left leg. Her hooded track jacket has a sleek shark emblem on front, intertwined with the company’s logo. The freeze-frame ends as Monet walks determined from the helicopter. Next to make his way out of the helicopter is “Born Champion” Eddie Christian. As he confidently jumps off the helicopter the screen freeze-frames in black and white once again. This time the screen at the bottom reads: T H E T R E A S O N O U S E G O ? ? ? Christian is wearing the same custom Shootfire black track suit. Yet his own name is visible down the left leg as the jacket has a crown of sorts twisted amongst the SPW logo. The frame ends as Christian stands next to Monet. Fellow Hustle and Swagger member Sammy Knight follows Christian off the helicopter and his Compton foot lands with a cloud of dust. Following suit, the camera freeze-frames on Knight with the letters reading: T H E P R I D E F U L T W O - T I M E R ? ? ? Once again we see the same black track suit with Knight’s name loudly displayed on the left leg. Knight pulls the hood over his head, leaving a shadow of sorts across his face. The motions resumes as the SPW World Champion walks and stands next to Monet and Christian. The outline of Compton is blended within the SPW logo. The last off the plane is none other than “Cunning” James O’Connor. As the talented wrestler steps off the blame, the camera freezes one final time. Following suit, the letters across the freeze-frame read: T H E U N - D E R S E R V I N G R O O K I E ? ? ? O’Connor as well is wearing the track suit with the letters J, O and C down his leg. The logo for his gym rests visibly behind the Shootfire logo. As the movement resumes, O’Connor stands next to his teammates in the Deathwish Cage Match at the upcoming Iconoclasm Pay-Per-View. Four survivors… ….each serving different roles in the success of Shootfire… …meeting eye-to-eye on the need to exterminate our Invaders… …sacrificing for the greater good… …standing up for the amazing ideals of possibility in what not only Shootfire Professional Wrestling has been, but will be… The camera pans back momentarily so see four of Shootfire’s brightest standing against the backdrop of four of America’s finest. The living defenders of Shootfire juxtaposed against the buried and blessed defenders of our nation. The camera quickly zooms back to a closer crop of the four. Knight looks over at his brothers and sister in arms and can’t help but exude a small smirk. Nervous? Maybe. Concerned? Possibly. Ready? Definitely. He begins to speak in the slow, poisoned tone that Knight does with such ease.] Knight: Amazing isn’t it? [He pauses as he takes in the powerful imagery of standing on top of the most famous busts in America.] Knight: The Lakota Sioux call this the “Six Grandfathers.” Yet when an American from New York stumbled upon this landmark on a little hiking expedition in the late 19th century, he re-named it after himself. Fitting. It’s the American way after all. When you want something, you take it. Shoot first ask questions later you know? [Knight peers into the camera.] Knight: It’s a code that I know very well. Hell, it’s that hood mentality that plagued me for years. And it just so happens to be the _EXACT_ mentality our Invaders showed at Ringu Faia. Showing up, causing havoc, preaching violence against a seemingly helpless flock. Violence which beget only more violence. From El Rey Futuro to Jack Sharp to countless others, Shootfire has been victimized by the lackeys of Andrew Davis; the bowel movements of a failed company. And while the idiom says that one man’s trash in another man’s treasure, our opponents at Iconoclasm are no man’s treasure. And even the term trash may be slightly complimentary. [Knight pauses as his looks back towards Monet, Christian and O’Connor.] Knight: The funny thing is, I don’t necessarily blame them. [Knight shakes his head in a somewhat empathetic manner.] Knight: I don’t blame them because I understand. I understand the weak minds of men bound by the trappings of violence. Because I used to be one. You take until someone stops you. Then you take again. And when the victim of the theft doesn’t stand up to you, it’s yours. Simple as that. But what do you do when your very target puts up a fight? [Knight cocks his head slightly and looks into the camera.] Knight: Because you’re not built for _THAT_. You’re not built for _THIS_. [Knight extends his arms in an inclusive pose to include his comrades.] Knight: And that’s not idle words. That is a promise. [His brown eyes seemingly light up at this last comment.] Knight: Your pass of unchecked bullshit will stop at Iconoclasm as your policies of cowardice are addressed live, directly, and by four of the most talented individuals this federation has to offer. You see, even as we stand here on top of four of our most influential leaders, I’m reminded of another historic event in this very state. [Knight takes a few steps towards the end of the granite rock as he turns away from the camera and looks out over the hills and forest.] Knight: An event when a loud-mouthed, boisterous, and violent thief tried to push his luck one last time against the proud natives who wanted to protect their home. And when this overzealous Invader refused to realize he picked a battle he couldn’t win, he not only failed, but lost his own life in the battle. [He pauses.] Knight: If only General Custer had listened it might not have been his last stand. It’s not too late Celine. History doesn’t have to repeat itself. But if when you step into that cage, it will. _WE_ promise you that much. [Knight turns around and walks back towards his teammates as Monet steps forward.] Marissa: You know me. You know what I can do. At Iconoclasm you definitely have a Deathwish. Four SPW faithful against four Invaders for the rights to make their dreams come true. Four individuals who have struggled and strived for success against four rejects from failed wrestling companies. The winner has to force the loser to submit. Invaders, it's simple. Adversity has introduced us. Now, when you look inside yourself you've got to wonder whether you really have guts or whether you'll just go try this somewhere else. I bet you'll take the easy way out. You don't have what it takes to stand up against a real team. And that's what we are. A Knight, a Queen, a King and a Rook. We're the finest in the world. You, you're just four pawns. [With those last words, Monet steps back as the intense O’Connor begins to speak with a smirk.] JOC: I’ve heard the talk. Hell, all you IGA guys have done since arriving in SPW is talk without much of anything to show for it. If you guys were half as good at fighting as you are at running your mouths, maybe you’d have something more to show for it than a few low stake tag wins. Rest assured, mere words aren’t going to win you this battle. You have to bring it in the ring… and believe me when I say that, experience or not, I intend to do just that. Underestimate me, or any of my teammates, and you will suffer the consequences. [O’Connor, cunning attitude and all, steps back and looks towards Christian. Christian, confidently looks at his teammates and then back to the camera. As he walks by O’Connor, the two glance at each other, showing a tremendous respect. Christian begins to speak with his typical, cocky tone.] Christian: I can be the first to admit, I haven't always been a saint in my career. [He looks back to Knight who sort of smirks at him.] Christian: I've done things that caused controversy, I've stabbed people in the back, burned bridges.. hell I've even stolen victories before. [Christian pauses as if to say, ‘yes, that’s true.’] Christian: Bottom line is that I am a competitor. [Pause.] Christian: A competitor that lives in a dog eat dog world. It's all up to us to choose the roads we take to a successful wrestling career. Whether we choose to be inspirational, a shark, cunning, or downright ruthless; it all has it's pros and cons. [Christian begins to walk adjacent to his army.] Christian: And the path I've chosen has gotten me the marquee multiple times, and it had made me into the wrestling icon that I am today. However that same path has labeled me as an inconsiderate asshole that’s quick to deceive to get to that next level. It is one that I can live with, as I take nothing I have done back. I cannot change the things I've done my past, but I can look back on it and make a better future. It's called evolving, something that I have been doing since I took my sabbatical back when IGA was running strong. So yeah, I remember; not only from the constant reminder from the Invaders but it's there. I remember the tirade I produced against this company right off the heels of the closing of Immortal Wrestling. I've already set the trend that the Invaders are currently following. The only difference is they are not living up to the billet. The shoe doesn't fit. I don't buy the ruthless act coming from 3 IGA nobodies and Deathknell's jester. Attacking announcers and people from behind with nail guns is an act of cowardice. I look at you guys and I laugh. [Christian lets out a fake laugh of sorts.] Christian: I laugh because you four actually believe you are making an impact. Nope. An impact is leading the Shootfire team at Wrestlebowl 2008, then turn around and screwing them out of the win, pulling the carpet from underneath their feet causing them to fall on their face. Ohhhhh...that's ruthless!!!! [pauses] Christian: Oh yeah, and that's how you make an impact. [He winks into the camera.] Christian: But I don't need to preach any further about that because deep down inside you already know; which is why you spew the propaganda that Eddie Christian shouldn't be trusted by the Shootfire Army. You give me that wild card effect because you guys knew that I would be the x-factor that you need to solidify your team as a dangerous one. Iin fact, the deception that you paint to the locker room is one that you're actually _HOPING_ for because it's the only glimmer of a chance that you have at winning this Deathwish cage match. And at Iconoclasm, your glimmers of hope and chance will fizzle out as I headstomp you all back to reality, and kick you back to the gutters that you climbed out of. Celine and Ian got whiff of that in Los Angeles as Sammy and I gave them a clinic inside the ring. The beating that we gave the two of them will be amplified once the doors to that cage closes. The four of us? We're more than ready, we have the cunning. We're going to kill all prehistoric and imaginary beasts. We're going to crush your bones and bloodwalk our way to terminating the pests. Start begging for forgiveness now fellas, because your judgment day is rapidly approaching. GOD don't like ugly... and quite frankly.. neither do I! [The Born Champion looks once more into the camera before stepping back. He pats O’Connor on the shoulder as O’Connor nods, obviously agreeing with Christian’s last sentiments.] JOC: Here I stand, next to a pair of SPW institutions and an accomplished competitor who has stared into the abyss that is IGA. Yet any time the invaders open their mouths, the name I hear more often than any other is my own. They might see me as the bigger threat, but… [He gestures to his teammates.] JOC: …looking at this array of talent, that’s probably bogus. No, the invaders are talking about James Francis O’Connor because they think they can get in my head. I entered SPW just before Ringu Faia after two mostly unremarkable stints elsewhere. A few months later, I’m tapped to replace a deserving former champion like Spooky Doom in the Shootfire Army. They see me standing next to these three main eventers and wonder: Why is this guy here? [O’Connor shakes his head.] JOC: It’s been like this all season. They laughed as I was the first to answer Sammy Knight’s call to arms. Like everyone else, they were shocked when I was selected to stare down Andrew Davis with the SPW Title on the line, not to mention absolutely flabbergasted when I came out on top. Davis and Weaver conspired to put me down and keep me out of the match, figuring I’d just give up. Instead I made Red Dragon run for the hills. Yet still I hear the calls of inexperience. [He holds his arms at his sides, shrugging his shoulders.] JOC: What inexperience? At Iconoclasm, we’re going to be fighting inside a cage. The only way to win is to make your opponent submit or knock them out. Doesn’t that sound a little like a former career of mine? Something I still train in to help me better prepare for the ring? The Deathwish Cage might have half the sides of the Octagon, but the principle is the same. On that score, maybe I have more experience than “Wild” Bill Ian or Red Dragon. Maybe comfort inside a cage is more relevant than comfort with being impaled by a registered sex offender. [He brings his arms down.] JOC: This is my element. I may be a rookie, but I’ve got more than enough experience to tackle this challenge. All it takes is a little talent, a little fortitude, and, of course, a little cunning. [With his fist clenched, the obviously prepared star glares into the camera as Monet comes up on his side.] Marissa: I know. I know. We've got a woman. We can't win. Right? Isn't that what the Invaders are saying? They can't lose to a woman. But the truth is you can and you will. The female of the species is always more deadly than the male. Think about it, Invaders. When you picked an animal to represent me in your little skits you picked a bear. I know you were trying to insult me, but even that choice speaks out to the truth. You picked a dangerous, powerful animal to represent me. And that's what I am. Ian, Taylor, you may be bigger and stronger than I am, but Celine and Dragon, you're not. You're all shorter than me. And you're all weaker. You all should look at Dragon. I mean, really, he couldn't even take out Mandy Appleton. How do you think he'll do against me? And Celine, you're still no better than Deathknell's sidekick. The IGA didn't want you and neither does anybody else. You know you don't want any part of me. You don't want this as bad. All you want is attention. Ian, Taylor, you may both be big and strong. You may both be muscle, but you lack intelligence. You're too drunk and too stupid to be effective against me. You think I'm just going to stand there and let you hit me? Think about it. If I'm putting everything on the line I must have a chance. I must have something up my sleeve. Haven't I proven to you all season that I know how to win when the chips are stacked against me? [Monet smirks into the camera.] Marissa: Do you think any of you is as tough as Victor Frost? If you do I haven't seen a reason to believe it. And I outsmarted and outlasted him. I'm begging you to come at me, because you're the perfect vehicle to once and for all shut every mouth that says that I can't get it done because I'm a woman? Get it? Marissa: I was never a girly-girl. I was always too tall, too big, too aggressive to be popular amongst the girls. But I was never tall enough, big enough or aggressive enough to be seen as one of the guys. That made me an outcast. That made me determined. That made me smarter, better, more ruthless. [Marissa's eyes flatten as she speaks.] Marissa: They say wrestling is human chess. Well, the Black Queen is the most dangerous piece on the board. At Iconoclasm it is going to be checkmate. These men who stand with me. We share the same dreams. I'm not letting them down. I'm going to kill you. [Monet looks at Knight, a former enemy of hers, and then back at the camera. Knight takes a few steps forward and begins to speak once again.] Knight: And kill we _ALL_ will. Because _THIS_ match is huge. This match is going to be a field of bloodshed. It not only has the industry talking, but it has the locker room talking as well. And I’ve listened. I’ve listened to criticism on our gender, our allegiance, our experience and our focus. And you know what? [He leans in closer.] Knight: They’re valid. [Pause. He nods his head.] Knight: We have a woman. We have a dude who railed _AGAINST_ SPW while being employed by the same promotion as the Invaders. We have a relative newcomer to SPW who was placed in this match after the removal of a talented Superstar. And then we have me. [Knight points his left index finger directly into his chest.] Knight: A prideful motherfucker who _AFTER_ stepping into the Deathwish match voluntarily chose to step into the same ring as the Lightweight Legend himself. [Knight nods his head.] Knight: So while I’ve certainly heard the whispers of friends and foes alike and yes, they certainly are valid and understandable… …they simply won’t matter. Not at Iconoclasm. We are not perfect. We’ve never claimed to be. We too have been mired in controversy. A locker room member who earned a spot on this team was asked to leave, not based on his God-given abilities, but in the name of chemistry. And while I recognize his frustration. It was a move that had to be made for this team. For SPW. Because it’s in our imperfections that we have united. It’s in _YOUR_ doubt that we have not only found motivation, but solidarity amongst one another. Because while many have been quick to point out our potential limitations, they have conveniently left out the greatest determinant of all: _MOTIVATION_. For Shootfire. For victory. For one another. And at the end of the night, those motivations will by far outweigh the perception of what we can or cannot do. [Knight pauses momentarily while a face of deep reflection comes over him.] Knight: Yet for me? [He stops.] Knight: What can I say? I made a conscious choice to participate in this match. It was a choice to stand-up for a federation and fan base that I love against the likes of Jean Pierre Celine, Nathan Taylor, “Wild” Bill Ian and Red Dragon. Nothing more. This wasn’t about feeding my ego. This was about me refusing to stand idly and watch something I love be taken alive by a cancerous growth. [Knight looks down at the presidential busts below him. Knight takes a moment and walks over to a point where he’s standing directly above the bust of Abraham Lincoln’s.] Knight: And while I may not agree with all of the politics and policies of these men beneath us, I still find strength within them. You see, President Lincoln once spoke about a divided house being unable to stand; a nation split over the issue of slavery’s preservation and expansion. And I too find that Shootfire is broken; separated into warring factions. Lincoln, you see, was conflicted about the peculiar institution that has cast a hideous shadow on our nation’s history. Yet irregardless of his personal beliefs on this issue, he made his choices upon what was _BEST_ for his country. And I too lately have found myself conflicted with a similar outlook towards this promotion. Which is exactly why I am in this match _AND_ facing Davis. [Knight begins to walk again, slowly, over towards the bust of third President Thomas Jefferson’s.] Then you have Jefferson, who in writing some of the most eloquent words in the history of mankind spoke about the idea that ‘all men are created equal.’ Yet in writing this, the slave-owner himself certainly wasn’t including African- Americans nor women. And here in Shootfire, there are people who too have felt frustrated, constricted and limited; as if the mantra of ‘kill or be killed’ wasn’t necessarily designed for them. Jefferson in that same document and in response to rule and actions by a tyrant class, wrote about mankind having the right to Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. Here in Shootfire, our very liberty is being threatened. Our ability to pursue happiness within our career has been challenged by a group of hired mercenaries and Andrew Davis himself; a multi-headed monster if you will. Iconoclasm is where Shootfire beheads these men. By any means necessary. [He pauses, looking down once more at the busts of these great, but flawed men before looking back at the helicopter. Suddenly, "Bonecrusher" Barry Baldwin jumps out of the helicopter and the camera turns to see him. He is wearing full military garb from the camouflage flack jacket down to the steel toed black boots. He's even sporting a brown helmet. He walks up to the camera and begins to speak.] Baldwin: Throughout history, there have been stories of the great rivalries and wars... The Greeks & Romans The Colonists & The British Elite The Red Sox & The Yankees But nothing is as important as this war we are in right now. The stakes have never been greater. [He pauses for effect] Baldwin: A once great general said "In modern day warfare, you need to be prepared on all fronts." And as I look at this team, I can honestly say that we are ready for anything these Invaders bring. [As he speaks their name, each member of his army stands behind him.] Marissa monet...The Great Black Shark... Mistress of the deep sea Eddie Christian... A Born Champion and supreme aerialist James O'Connor... A young man that has impressed me as of late and owner of the best ground game in the business today And then you have Sammy Knight... No one knows more about urban hand to hand combat than this man. [He then turns half-way so he is looking at his team but still facing the camera] Gentlemen and lady... It's balls to the walls time. Fall out! [The camera pans away from Baldwin as he enters the helicopter. As the camera zooms in one last time you see the four, united individuals of Monet, O’Connor, Knight and Christian. As the four competitors stand side by side, there is a definite sense of urgency and solidarity that is rare to find in four Superstars of this magnitude. A soft wind blows across their focused faces as the orange dusk is now an even dimmer burnt orange. As the urgent call of Baldwin echoes, one can hear both the wind, and sound of the helicopter warming up. The camera freezes on the four individual’s faces. Suddenly their faces slowly begin to transform, morphing into a composite that is eerily similar to the monument below them. The words which began the transmission once again stretch across the screen beneath them: “E Pluribus Unum” The Latin, suddenly changes to state the translation. It now reads: O U T O F M A N Y, O N E [Fade out.] _____________________________________________________________________________ |_____________________________________________________________________________| |__ICONOCLASM_________________________________________________________________| NINA LARUE vs NIKKI JAMES vs ERICA TOUGHILL _____________________________________________________________________________ |_________________________________________________________________________SPW_| |_____________________________________________________________________________| [Suddenly, Will Hoge's "Be the One" begins to play as the curtains part and Nina Larue stalks out, clad in a black lace bra and matching hotpants, showing off her sleek, curvy figure. She completes the look with black, kicking pads and matching, Asics, tennis shoes. Her long, black hair falls straight past her shoulders, framing her flawless face as the fans rush the railings!!] [BIG FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] "Night ends another day begins She feels just like she did the day before She finds her coat she grabs her hat She picks her stockings up from off the bathroom floor With a plastic smile on closes the door and she's gone away She hears all the things that they say But talk is cheap so she gives it away" [The statuesque beauty poses for a moment atop the entrance ramp, before sashaying down the ramp, smiling with deep brown eyes locked on the squared circle. As she makes her way down the aisle, she casually touches the outstretched hands of her fans, confident and enjoying herself as gold spotlights circle her on her triumphant stride towards the ring] "She don't want to get better No no She just wants to have some fun She'll do anything the boys will let her Oh no She just wants to be the one Yeah yeah yeah yeah!" [The bewitching brunette gracefully enters the ring through the top and middle ropes. Grabbing the top rope, Nina Larue steps on the second rope, leaning out over the side to give the fans a generous view, smiling as she works up the crowd! The audience cheers and their Goddess flashes a huge smile as the SPWTron plays Nina catching Katie Smith with the Nina's Knockout, the flying slingshot DDT!!] "She finds a bar that says it's open So she takes a step inside A man with a tall drink and a Wall Street haircut Says that he can give her a ride With a plastic smile on Closes the door and she's gone away She hears all the things that they say But talk is cheap so she gives it away" [Nina basks in the spotlight in the center of the ring as the gold lights circle around her statuesque ivory frame. Her raven tresses glimmering in the heat, Larue outspreads her arms causing a huge frenzied face pop!! Working the crowds and electrifying the Shootfire Faithful, Nina Larue points out across the fans and guarantees a victory with fire in her eyes] Stone: LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, FROM BEVERLY HILLS CALIFORNIA, STANDING 5 FOOT 10 AND WEIGHING IN AT 130 POUNDS, THIS IS THE GODDESS, THE ICE PRINCESS... NIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINAAA! LAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARUE!!!!! [FANS CHEER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [The lights go dark and red spotlights shine down on the top of stage as the opening chords to "Lollipop" by Framing Hanley play over the PA system. On the SPWTron, we see highlights of Nikki James' in-ring abilities.] "She said he so sweet I wanna lick the wrapper" [The SPWTron then changes to show James and Bevins cruising in the back of a cherry red sports car with the wind blowing through their hair. And out from the backstage area steps "New York Knockout" Nikki James along with "Sensuous" Samantha Bevins. The Caucasian female with long brown hair, blue eyes, decent sized chest and long legs is wearing a canary yellow top that says "Die Young, Stay Beautiful" on the front with the material cut low to show off some cleavage, black boy shorts, and black boots. She also has black athletic tape around both wrists. On the back of her shorts, it says "KNOCKOUT" in red font, in case anyone forgets. Bevins' blond hair flows down her back as she wears an expensive black Dior dress and silver Manolo Blahnik shoes. Nikki bops from side to side as the lights continue to swirl.] "And she, she licked me Like a lollipop Like a lollipop" [The SPWtron changes again to show James and Bevins partying in the most exclusive nightclubs of New York City as the duo look out at the sea of fans all cheering for Nikki James.] "Shorty wanna thug Bottles in the club Shorty wanna hump You know I like to touch Ya lovely lady lumps" [Nikki and Samantha stroll down the aisle as the song continues to play. Nikki takes her time and makes sure to slap hands with as many fans along the aisle as possible. Meanwhile, Samantha continues to walk forward towards ringside.] "Shorty wanna thug Bottles in the club Shorty wanna hump You know I like to touch Ya lovely lady lumps" [At this point, when the song gets to the second verse, Nikki is at ringside and begins to bop around the ringside area, continuing to slap hands with nearby fans. Samantha Bevins walks up the ringside steps and climbs up on the apron, facing towards the fans.] "Cute lil' mama had a swag like mine She even wear her hair Down her back like mine I make her feel right When its wrong like lyin' Man she ain't never Had a love like mine" [The song begins to fade before the next verse starts. Samantha Bevins hops down to the ringside floor as Nikki climbs inside the ring and the ring announcer does his introduction.] Stone: Entering the ring at this time... From Venice Beach, California... by way of New York City... She is accompanied tonight by "Sensuous" Samantha Bevins... Weighing in tonight at one hundred and fifty pounds... She is the NEW YORK KNOCKOUT.... NIKKIIIIIII ... JAMESSSSS!!!! [FANS CHEER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [Samantha Bevins claps at ringside as Nikki James raises an arm to the crowd and focuses on Nina Larue already across the ring from her.] Vik: Erica Toughill signing with Shootfire Pro Wrestling!! What a get for SPW!! Tara: No kidding Erica on her way to come in and take out one or both women as she makes her debut! This is awesome!! Vik: Was either Superstar expecting this!? [A few sythesized string chords open up Leonard Cohen's "Everybody Knows." The general lighting on the arena turns into a mixture of rich blues and reds. As the SPW-tron displays film noir-style images of violence, through the curtain steps the Queen of Clubs, Erica Toughill.] "Everybody knows the dice are loaded Everybody rolls with their fingers crossed Everybody knows the war is over Everybody knows the good guys lost Everybody knows the fight was fixed The poor stay poor, the rich get rich That's how it goes Everybody knows" [Toughill is a grumpy young woman in her mid-20s with harsh black Bettie Page- style bangs. Over top of Erica's ring attire (black singlet with white trim and Converse shoes) is a plain worn black hoodie. She walks with purpose down the aisle, an icy sneer on her face.] "Everybody knows the boat is leaking Everybody knows the captain lied Everybody got this broken feeling Like their father or their dog just died Everybody talking to their pockets Everybody wants a box of chocolates And a long stem rose Everybody knows" [Toughill climbs up the ring apron and steps through the ropes abruptly. Quickly she backs into the nearest corner, crouching down like an animal about to strike. In one quick motion she discards the hoodie, tossing it behind her.] Everybody knows you love me baby Everybody knows you really do Everybody knows that you've been faithful Give or take a night or two Everybody knows you've been discreet But there were so many people you just had to meet Without your clothes And everybody knows Everybody knows Everybody knows That's how it goes Everybody knows" Stone: FROM ROCHESTER NEW YORK, WEIGHING IN AT 163 POUNDS!!! THIS IS THE QUEEN OF CLUBS... ERICA! TOU!GHILL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [CROWD ROARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] ***DINGDINGDING!!!!*** Tara: Erica grabs onto Nina, steps and Belly to Belly SUPLEX lands her down hard!! Nikki James rolling up, goes for Toughill- ***SSSMMMMAAAAAAAAACK!!!*** Vik: ERICA with the knife edge chop!! And Nikki hurting Erica with her head, runs at the corner and fires it right into the buckles! James turning back and Erica with the closed fist punch to the jaw! Tara: Nina from behind! Spinning Erica around and fires a hard right hand of her own! Boom! And another shot to send the Rochester native off her tracks- Larue with the irish whip cross corner to spin around and send Toughill at Nikki James!! Vik: Who comes sliding out drop toehold to send the side of Erica's face OH right into the second turnbuckle pad!! [Erica lands hard, arms over the middle as Nina Larue has Nikki and turns to snapmare her right over, then fires the dropkick right between the shoulder blades! The fans pop as Larue yells to them, taking up Nikki in the standing side headlock, then turns outside to come up with a hammerlock. James has her head, kicking up into the air and dropping to send Nina into a cartwheel!! Larue lands on her feet out of the snapmare and shoots off a flawless Dropkick to send James into the ropes!] [FANS CHEER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Tara: Nikki with the wrist and sent for the ride! Vik: ERICA KICKS NINA IN THE RIBS!!! [Larue hits the mat as James flies back and smashes Erica with a flying forearm between the eyes!! Toughill hits the side and Nikki spins to whip the 163 pound Toughill across the ring as James falls to a knee using everything she has! Erica comes off the ropes and Nikki hits a backwards european uppercut to knock Toughill off her feet!!] [CROWD CHEERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Tara: A three way so hard to prepare for as Nina Larue up and Nikki taking her to the air, jams the atomic drop!! You practically have to have eyes in the back of your head! And James with the HEART PUNCH!! [HUUUUGE FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Vik: Erica getting up before James can capitalize. Nikki with her head- turns and rushes her at the neutral corner! Head up but Erica gets a boot inside the second and blocks, now hauling James up just like and STIFF BODYSLAM!! [Nikki rolls off the canvas, aching in pain and Erica grunts and kicks her in the ribs! The fans pop as James is hurting, to which Toughill grabs a handful of blonde hair. Turning James around, Erica bends forward to wrench Nikki into the air by her hair and drops to her knees to hit a Hairpull Hangman's Neckbreaker!!] [CROWD POPS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Tara: OH!! And Erica Toughill has the count, Ref in position- 1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Vik: Nope nothing doing New York Knockout Kicked Out. Tara: Nikki James resilient, able to kick out as Nina Larue heading over, Erica must immediately focus on her! Nina with the HIPSTRIKE to the face, Toughill not fast enough! Larue with the armwringer over, lets the Savate Kick Fly! [FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Vik: Notice Nina picked and chose her spot, the mark of a true professional. Larue now, top wristlock twisting back, steps over the arm and back heel kick to the face takes Erica down to the mat! Now that's a damn maneuver right there if I ever saw one! Tara: Nina with the Dragon Sleeper locked in, standing up and Nikki to her knee, Larue yelling and SUPLEXING TOUGHILL UP INTO THE AIR!! ---AND DROPS HER GUTS FIRST ON THE TOP ROPE!! Vik: NIKKI CHARGES AND NINA THROWS HER HIGH OVER HER HEAD! JAMES WITH THE LANDING ON ERICA!! AND SLID OFF HER BACK!! [HUGE FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Tara: Nikki heading along the apron as Nina with the head, dragging Erica legs first hanging from the top rope- and SLAPS THE DDT INTO THE MAT!! Vik: NIKKI JAMES OFF THE TOP!!!!! [Nikki sails through the air, spreading out her arms and crashlanding the Diving Headbutt right into Erica Toughill! The fans are roaring out as Nina Larue rolls up, dragging James up who smashes the back elbow to the face! Nina goes sideways, stumbling into the ropes, gripping at her chin and she turns back as Nikki runs to clothesline her backwards over the side!!] [FANS CHEER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Vik: NO Love lost between Nina and Nikki but a strong and healty sense of competition! James heading over now as Erica dazed but not out yet! Wow this Toughill keeps coming! Tara: And Nikki has her head, but Toughill blasting away at her guts! James trying to hang on Erica punching away at her stomach again! Toughill with the arm, turning inside taking James into the air and JAMS THE SAMOAN DROP!! Vik: AND TOUGHILL HAS THE COVER!!!! 1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Tara: NIKKI ROLLS HER OVER! CRUCIFIX PIN! [FANS SCREAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] 1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Vik: ERICA KICKED OUT!! WHOA! DID NOT EXPECT THAT!! [Toughill rolls over, forcing herself to get up but Nikki races the ropes and as she hits the side, Nina Larue pulls her feet out from under, ripping James to the floor! Nikki turns and Nina runs her over with a back elbow to the face!] Tara: And just like that, Nina Larue on Nikki James, picked her spot and taking her up gutwrench upside down and BACKBREAKER Across the Knee!! Vik: OHH! Now that'll rearrange your day! James on the floor in agony as Nina rolling right in ERICA with the Big Elbowdrop to the back!! Tara: OH! Toughill caught her off guard, uncharacteristic mistake by the Goddess as Erica all over her, dragging her up by her hair and Slams the Lariat to the back of the head!! [FANS CHEER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Vik: NINA down on her face! These women have been all physical since the start of the bell! And now Erica Toughill clamping in the abdominal stretch, the submission smart enough to face Nina away from the ropes, with Toughill's own body in between. And if that wasn't enough, Erica beginning to pummel Nina's side with closed fists to the kidneys! Tara: Nina in grave danger! Vik: Erica with the hold in and tenderizing Larue's ribs! Now Nina trying to twist, trying to get- trying to fight at the ropes!! Tara: But Erica has the Cobra Clutch in! AND LEGSWEEP!! SPIRAL SHOCK ON NINA LARUE!! [FANS CHEER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Vik: ERICA WITH THE COVER AND PRESS!! 1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Tara: NIKKI JAMES SLINGSHOT OVER THE SIDE! LEGDROP DOWN ACROSS THE BACK OF ERICA'S BRAINS!!! [FANS CHEER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Vik: OH MAN! And Nikki James dragging Erica up- snaps a kick to the stomach, a kick to the chest, spins and ROUNDHOUSE HEEL RIGHT TO THE GUTS!! TOUGHILL BENT OVER!! Tara: James into the air and FAME ASSER!! ERICA IS DOWN! Nikki with the arm, steps around and leaps over top, La Magistral!! 1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Vik: NINA BROKE IT UP!! TAKING NIKKI TO HER FEET AND RUNNING HER AT THE ROPES!! [Larue screams and tosses Nikki clear over the side but James is able to hang onto the top!! Nina turns and goes for Erica as Nikki brings up her legs and skins the cat to come in right back over! The fans in San Diego cheer out as Nina whips Erica right at her! Nikki ducks to backdrop but Erica reverses and James sends Nina flying over the side! Larue is able to hang on, landing on her boots and Nikki stands to see Erica charging with the clothesline!! Larue falls pulling down the side as Toughill tumbles right over the top to fly out and topple to the floor of the Sports Arena!!] [FANS CHEER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Vik: TOUGHILL ON THE GROUND! Tara: NIKKI JAMES!!! [Nikki leaps over the side to throw her legs around Larue's head and fly backwards sending Nina into a hurricanrana, using the woman's own body like a projectile to take Erica Toughill down!! The fans are cheering out as Nikki gets up, pulling her fist to the air!! Taking up Nina she spins to send Larue inside the ring! Erica sits up and James charges to smash the knee right into her face!!] [HUGE FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Tara: Nikki taking out Toughill! And that's easier said than done!! And now Nikki James climbing to the apron once again, Nina laid out as James pulls back and SPRINGBOARD OFF THE TOP ROPE!! HUGE DIVING SPLAAAASSSH INTO LARUE AND HOOKS THE LEG!! 1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Vik: NOOOO!! NINA KICKED OUT!! [James instantly takes Nina up and over, securing her head for the Piledriver!! She rolls her arms and the audience cheers as Larue is struggling to get out, but James takes a step back and holds her tight!! Suddenly Erica reaches over the ropes to grab Nikki's hair and jumps down snapping the back of Nikki's head off the top cable! James pops back and Nina backdrops her clear off her head, then lands right on her shoulders to make the pin!] 1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Vik: NIKKI WITH THE LEGS UP! AND PULLING LARUE OVER DOWN INTO A PIN! 1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Tara: NINA ROLLING OUT! AND UP TO SLAM THE DROPKICK TO THE FOREHEAD!! OH!! AND NINA LAYING ACROSS NIKKI JAMES! 1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Vik: NIKKI BACKBRIDGING NINA UP! AND PULLING A PAGE OUT OF THE ICE PRINCESS'S PLAYBOOK! TURNING OVER TWISTS TO GET NINA INTO A BACKSLIDE!!! 1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Tara: ERICA DRAGGING NIKKI OUT OF THE RING!! AND LIFTING HER INTO THE AIR! GORILLA PRESS AND DOWWNN ACROSS THE GUARDRAIL!! [CROWD ROARING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Vik: GOOD GOD THAT HAD TO HURT! AND THE QUEEN OF CLUBS PICKING AND CHOOSING HER SPOTS!! [Nina crawls across the ring, looking for a breather, as Erica slides in... yelling as she is impatient, she cannot wait for Larue to stand!! Larue slowly gets up, turning around weakly and Erica Toughill breaks into a solid charge, running at full speed to pick Nina up into the air and dive with the flying Spinebuster!!!] **WWWHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAM!!!!!!** [FANS ROARING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Vik: RANSALSE!! AKA THE JILLDOZER!!!!!!!!!!!!! Tara: ERICA TOUGHILL HAS JUST PLOWED NINA LARUE NEARLY STRAIGHT THROUGH THE MAT!! AND TOUGHILL WITH AN ARM TO THE CROWD! AND NOW DROPPING TO HOOK THE LEG! THIS IS IT!!!! 1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Vik: NIKKI JAMES DIVES TO BREAK UP THE PIN!! [FANS CHEERING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [Nikki pulls up Erica, and begins peppering her with rights! Toughill goes stagger walking as James unleashes a painful boxing combination, slamming lefts and rights as Erica goes off balance and Nikki grabs the wrist to send the larger woman for the ride but Toughill is able to step and reverse!! James hits the ropes as Toughill continues spinning and nails the 360 Degree Peacemaker Lariat that sends The New York Knockout into a Mid Air Flip!!] [FANS ROAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Vik: TURNED HER INSIDE OUT!!!!!! Tara: AND ERICA TOUGHILL UP AND LOOKING FOR THE SHREW'S FIDDLE! Vik: ERICA SWINGING AROUND BACK BEHIND SHE HAS THE HEAD AND ARM CHOKE!! NIKKI FIGHTING TO STAY UP AND NINA LARUE!! [Nina is standing on the second turnbuckle to fly off catching Erica's head, diving into the front flip to clear over top and lands jamming the Diamond Dust, also smashing Nikki's head into the mat as well! The fans are roaring out as Erica Toughill pops up bouncing off the canvas- and Larue locks her head to take her right up into the air! Holding her tall she leaps and crashes to a knee to send Erica's face right off her kneecap with The Icebreaker!!] [FANS ROARING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Tara: NINA LARUE JUST DRIVING ERICA -OUT WITH THE ICEBREAKER! THIS IS IT!! Vik: NINA FOR THE PIN!!! 1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 3-NIKKI JAMES ONCE AGAIN BREAKS IT UP!! JUST IN TIME!! [FANS ROARING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Tara: Nikki cannot waste any time! Taking Nina over, pulling the arms through her legs, turning Larue Upside Down as she clamps in the waistlock what is this!? Package into the PILEDRIVER!! Oh My Nina Larue just dumped on the top of her head! Nikki James now ready to put this one away! [Nikki backs up, yelling and motioning as she talks trash and Nina is slow to rise, but Erica begins to sit up! James charges to leap off Larue's back and slams the flying Enzugiri right into Toughill!!] ****CRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!!!!**** [FANS CHEER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Vik: AND DOWN FOR PUNCTUATION! AND NOW NINA GETTING UP!! HOW MUCH DOES THE GODDESS HAVE LEFT!?! Tara: NIKKI CHARGING AND FLIES TO CATCH THE HAIR! SIT DOWN NOOO! NINA SPEARED HER OUTTA THE AIR!!! [MONSTER FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Vik: AND NINA IMMEDIATELY DRAGGING NIKKI UP! GOING FOR ICEBREAKER NIKKI WITH A LEG INSIDE! THE BLOCK! TRY AGAIN NO JAMES COUNTERS WITH THE INSIDE CRADLE!! 1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Tara: NINA LARUE JUST KICKED OUT I DON'T KNOW HOW SHE DID THAT! Vik: BOTH WOMEN UP AND NIKKI SLAMS HER WITH THE HAYMAKER! **WWHHHAAAAAAAM!!!!** Tara: NINA ALMOST KNOCKED OUT FROM THAT ONE! BUT ABLE TO ANSWER BACK WITH THE KNIFE EDGE CHOP!!! ***SSSSSSMAAAAAAACK!!!!!*** Vik: NIKKI HURT- BUT CRACKS LARUE ACROSS THE FACE!! **WWHHHAAAAAAAM!!!!** Tara: NINA DOWN TO A KNEE- AND UP TO LET THE CHOP FLY!!! ***SSSSMAAAAACK!!!!!*** Vik: OHH!! AND ERICA TO HER FEET! AMAZING!!! [Both women turn as Toughill charges shrieking and crashes into both with a monstrous double clothesline!! The fans are roaring out as Erica rolls over onto a knee, and gripping both by their throats, rises up as Nikki's holding onto the wrist- and Erica Toughill raises both James and Larue into the air-- and slams the Double Chokeslam as hard as she can!!!] ***WWWHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAMMMMM!!!!*** Tara: AND ERICA PUT THEM BOTH DOWN! TOUGHILL WITH THE COVER! 1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Vik: BOTH KICKED OUT!!!!!! [Nikki James rolls away hurting as Erica Toughill grabs Larue over, swinging her up into the air for the spinning sidewalk slam but Larue turns it into a midair armdrag takeover!! The fans pop as Nikki charges and leaps for the flying splash- and Larue catches her to spin her over her shoulder and powerslams her right down into Erica's stomach!! The fans roar out as Nina wraps in the sleeperhold choke on Nikki James! Nikki bridges to stand up and Larue jumps to crash her right down into Erica Toughill! Nina has the choke locked in as both women are on top of Toughill!!] {CROWD ROARING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Tara: REFEREE IN POSITION!! AND ERICA TRYING TO FIGHT OUT!! Vik: NINA CHOKING NIKKI OUT!!!! 1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 3!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Stone: AND THE WINNER OF THIS MATCH! THE ICE PRINCESS, NINA! LARUE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [FANS ROARING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [Erica rolls over, sweat pouring from off the line of her face as she looks down hurting. Nikki sits up, aching all over as she clutches her beet red throat, Nina Larue only able to push herself up. Toughill grimaces and shoves up off her knee, to watch as Nina gets her hand raised, the fans in San Diego cheer out!! The Referee holds her hand- and Erica turns to see Nikki up- and James offers her hand! Erica looks at it, and takes the right hand as the audience cheers!! Nina Larue turns and offering her right hand in respect, holds it out and Erica takes it!!] [MONSTER FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Vik: And a sign of sportsmanship well whatddya know that's all touchy feely! Normally that kinda makes me want to puke but I say give it to em, these women worked hard, they are true Superstars in my book and these fans sure do definitely appreciate em for it. Tara: Erica Toughill loses to Nina Larue wrestling fans, she is in SPW and now standing with Nina Larue. What a fight, and a nice and healthy show of respect among all three. "Sensuous" Samantha enters the ring and urging Nikki over, James welcoming Erica Toughill into SPW as Erica nods, thanking her and smiling as she raises Nina Larue's arm to the fans in the San Diego Sports Arena! [MASSIVE FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Tara: And that will do it for Iconoclasm OTC, what a show!! We will see you LIVE as Iconoclasm is about to start right now!! For Vik Avatar this is Tara Silver saying thank you, so long, and enjoy the show! History will be made! _____________________________________________________________________________ |_____________________________________________________________________________| |__ICONOCLASM_________________________________________________________________| [On what might just be the most important night of the Deadbeats career, we come across SPOOKY DOOM, seperated from his teammate and walking down the arena corridors. Look, it's pretty tense up in here and even a world class hero such as Spooky Doom might want to relieve himself before battle. It's only happenstance that the former Shootfire Army member comes across the man who took his place in the Deathwish Cagematch... JAMES O'CONNOR!] [FANS CHEER!!!!!] [James looks relieved to find him.] JOC: Spooky! Listen, man, I've been meaning to talk to you. [James takes a breath.] JOC: I just wanted to say that I'm really sorry how things went down. I honestly didn't know I was taking your spot when Baldwin offered it to me. It wasn't until afterward that I watched the replay and found out what happened. Believe me, I know how it feels to have that opportunity taken away from you and I wouldn't wish it on anyone. [James extends a hand.] JOC: From one professional to another, I hope there's no hard feelings. [Doom stares at the Cunning one for a moment.] Doom: Oh excuse me, did you go through a Boneyard Brawl to get the paycheck you're getting tonight? Because I didn't think so. [Probably NOT what Spooky Doom needed on the eve of his big title match. The scars of his efforts to represent the Shootfire Army are fresh in his memory, needing only the slightest of provocations to be brought forth. O'Connor frowns at this development and retracts the handshake.] JOC: Hey, it's not like I took the night off or anything. If it weren't for Andrew Davis and Derek Weaver... Doom: I'm sorry, you might have your excuses for not appearing in the Boneyard Brawl, but excuses don't mean diddly in this place where a man can go back on his word whenever he pleases. I fought the hardest inside that cage, I consider myself the reason why there are no eye-gouging psychos threatening all of you in the Shootfire Army: you guys owe me and instead you replaced me. [James bows his head. His breathing controlled, he looks at Doom with intensity.] JOC: Hey, if it were up to me you'd still be on the team. No one consulted me on this... hell, I'm not sure Barry consulted ANYONE on this. Whatever personal thing you two have... I don't know. [Intensity turns to a flash of anger.] JOC: But after beating Andrew Davis, after running off Red Dragon, I think I've proven that I belong in that match even if I was held back from the Boneyard Brawl. Yeah, you were wronged, but to take it out on me, on Sammy, or on anyone else is just as wrong. What we're fighting for is bigger than any petty grudge. Whoever was right or wrong doesn't matter anymore, it's in the past. Tonight, my teammates and I fight for SPW. I'd hope, as a competitor and as someone who wanted to represent Shootfire too, that you'd be able to respect that and support us regardless. Doom: I saw the true face of Shootfire when nobody did a goddamn thing at the time Bonecrusher made his decision... Unless it's to laugh. I'm the real talent here, but it seems I'll never have my chance to rise from the grave and to the top of this company because the "good ol' boys" in the back are too threatened by the Deadkid with the amazing moves and better wrestling skills than all of them combined! Speaking of which, think I'll get back to my bro Montana and finish up some last second plans for our tag match, capture those tag title belts once and for all. [James shakes his head.] JOC: Yeah, sure, whatever. Happy birthday and everything. And good luck on your match, even if you can't wish us the same. [James turns and walks away as Spooky Doom returns to his locker room in the opposite direction, leaving the scene utterly cold and empty.] _____________________________________________________________________________ |_____________________________________________________________________________| |__ICONOCLASM_________________________________________________________________| ANDREW DAVIS _____________________________________________________________________________ |_________________________________________________________________________SPW_| |_____________________________________________________________________________| [A white space. Walls white, floors white, no furniture. No telling where the space begins or ends, where the ceiling is, everything is relative. Andrew Davis walks into the space and takes a seat on nothing. The camera cheats to the right, and reveals a white lounge chair, almost impossible to see. Andrew is in a white suit, white tie, white shoes. The only color in view is Andrew's face and his black D&G sunglasses. Calm, cool, collected, he crosses his legs and speaks.] Iconoclasm is here. I am here. Sammy Knight is here. And his tragic downfall has begun. It isn't Sammy's fault, his being in this position. When you are like me, actualized and far away from the masses, untouchable by mere mortals, you can see the whole picture. See the story. Understand the series of decisions that brought Sammy Knight to where he is today, on the verge of destruction. [Andrew stands. The chair might still be there, or it might not. It's hard to tell. He walks to the left, footsteps silent. The room silent. Except for his voice.] Gideon Cain was looking for a marketable persona, someone that could be packaged and sold and duplicated, a hero in these dark times. By chance, he saw you. Sammy Knight. The savior of Shootfire. Or so he thought. You were pushed to the sky. You captured the World Title over a year ago. And here you stand, before us, still World Champ. Bordering on the longest reign in Shootfire's history. [Andrew continues to walk. The nothingness of the space remains; Andrew could be on a treadmill for all we know. No matter how he walks, where he moves, it is all the same, all unchanged.] You took the title at Wrestlebowl. That's when the conspiracy began. When AsH delivered you the title on a silver platter, what did you think Sammy? That you were better than Dave Pietka? Or did you think, "Don't look a gift horse in the mouth?" Because I know Gideon Cain, and I know AsH, I know what was happening. There you were, on top of the world, and match after match, show after show, things went your way. The planets aligned time and time again, and you started to believe. You believed the hype. You were, you are in a bubble. Surrounded by protectors and yes men, whether you knew it or not, you became a megalomaniac. You believed that you were truly the best wrestler in Shootfire. [Andrew continues walking, a series of moments frozen in time, hanging in mid air, attached to nothing. The first, AsH crowd surfing away from the ring as Sammy Knight holds the World Title high above his head, a fallen Dave Pietka below him, from Wrestlebowl 2008.] The Icon that gave birth to Iconoclasm. Bought and paid for, but you believed. [Still walking, Davis walks past two separate pictures, one from Legacy 2008 with Sammy Knight pinning the Biz to retain the World Title, and then Charity Carnage 2008, with the Biz standing at ringside, cheering Sammy Knight on as he pins Victor Frost to retain the title. Andrew addresses the camera, shaking his head.] Coincidences? I think not. Biz hates you, then loves you, and then ensures a victory over Frost? Every man has a price: some require pills for a private addiction... [An image of Sammy Knight pinning Jakob Volga at Ringu Faia 2009, hanging in mid air as Andrew walks.] Some require a down payment on a home in the Cleveland suburbs and a vacation home on Lake Michigan in which to celebrate one's retirement. And I'd show a picture of your scheduled title defense in Tokyo from this summer... [Words appear in midair: "PICTURE MISSING."] But that didn't take place, conveniently. Every step you took, Cain was there, setting up the dominoes, burying the bodies, and using his power and influence to spread propaganda. [Andrew turns to the camera and stops.] Why wouldn't you get confused? Why wouldn't you start to believe? A year of being told that you are the greatest, forgetting the taste of failure, staying high above the fray, it's intoxicating. I think that Michael Gambon said it best in the feature film, "Layer Cake." [Andrew disappears and is replaced by a scene from the film "Layer Cake." Daniel Craig sits in a private office in a warehouse, watching his perfectly put together plan falling apart before his very eyes. Michael Gambon sits with his back to the actions in the warehouse, already aware of what is occurring, reassuring Craig that one day, he would be in Gambon's position.] You're born, you take shit. You get out in the world, you take more shit. You climb a little higher, you take less shit. Till one day you're up in the rarefied atmosphere and you've forgotten what shit even looks like. Welcome to the layer cake, son. [Andrew reappears in front of the camera, standing in his plain white space. He grins.] That's you, Sammy. And that would continue to be you, if Gideon Cain has his way. But he doesn't control me. He can't. There is nothing that he can offer me, no weakness to pills or dreams he can fulfill, that would encourage me to step aside. I have been waiting patiently for nine months at this point, waiting for my shot, our one on one confrontation. [Andrew keeps his eyes trained on the camera, but walks to the left.] And now, it is here. And you've buried yourself deep this time. Gideon Cain's bulletproof vest has made you think that you're invincible, and now you're going to have to prove it. Can you beat the Invaders in a Deathwish Cage Match and then best a fresh Andrew Davis? You've never faced me before, Sammy. The puppet master has kept you away from me, but there aren't any moves left. Iconoclasm is checkmate, Sammy Knight. There's only three ways this pay per view plays out: [The number 1 appears to the right of the screen, stationary as Andrew walks past it.] You really are a super hero and are from the planet Krypton. [2.] Gideon Cain sets plans into motion to protect the title, revealing once and for all to all the disbelievers in the audience that you are everything I say you are. [3.] I win. I raise the SPW World Title above my head for a record third time, definitively the greatest wrestler in Shootfire's history, if not the greatest wrestler in history. Because to get to the top of the mountain three times, to be the trailblazer that I am, it takes a special person. There aren't a lot of special people in the world, Sammy, and you've been told that you are one long enough to have you living a lie. That's why, at Iconoclasm, I'm going to give you the greatest gift that you've ever received, second only to the gift of life. [Andrew sits down in his white lounge chair, which has reappeared. He crosses his legs and unbuttons his jacket.] I'm going to give you permission to fail. I'm going to remind what it means to be human. Remove the pretensions, remove the lies, remove the yes men, pop the bubble, I'm going to show you the real you. The you before Gideon Cain latched his claws into you, turned you into the #1 Face in the world. Before your bank guaranteed a bright future for Darrion's great grandchildren. Before you became whatever you are now. You are a terrific wrestler, an inspirational story, a wonderful human being, but you aren't me. You aren't special, like I am. After Iconoclasm, you're going to be the real you again. You should be happy. Your family will have their Sammy back. Darrion will have his dad back. Now, there are some strings attached to my gift. I know, it sounded too good to be true. The only thing I ask of you, the only thing I want from you, I want you to fight. I want to not to quit. I want Sammy Knight to give it everything he's got, because I deserve it. I don't need an asterisk next to my win. You have to give it every ounce, every fiber of your being. Just because you're going to lose doesn't give you permission to deny me my glory. This is my time, this is my moment, but it doesn't work without you trying your best. [Andrew takes his sunglasses off and slides them into his coat pocket, his brown eyes glistening in the all white surroundings - his stare direct, confident.] Fight your hardest. Don't let me take the title, make me. Make me pry it from your cold dead fingers. Because at the end of the day, this is about you more than it is about me. I already know how great I am. It's the world that needs to hear it, to see it. The charade needs to end. Gideon Cain needs to find a new pet. [Andrew snaps his fingers. A small white terrier walks out to Andrew and stands next to the chair, staring at Davis, waiting for his next command.] Sit, Sammy. [The dog sits.] Roll over, Sammy. [The dog rolls over.] Play dead, Sammy. [The dog rolls over onto it's back, legs splayed into the air. Andrew snaps his fingers again and the dog sits up, into a seated position, eyes on Davis.] Good boy, Sammy Knight. It's time to go home, Sammy. Embrace who you are. And what you'll never be. [Andrew puts on his sunglasses and stands, taking a second to button his jacket before walking off screen. The dog sits at his spot, waiting for the next command. The more time passes, the more anxious the dog looks, the more pressure amounting on the poor animal. Finally, at the breaking moment, a snap rings through the air. A look of relief passes over the face of the dog as he runs off screen. Fade to white.] _____________________________________________________________________________ |_____________________________________________________________________________| |__ICONOCLASM_________________________________________________________________| SPW World Heavyweight Champion SAMMY KNIGHT _____________________________________________________________________________ |_________________________________________________________________________SPW_| |_____________________________________________________________________________| *Click* [The clicking sound of a switch being flicked can be heard. The 'click' is quickly followed by an echo of sorts. A solitary standard white spotlight beams down from above directly to the right of the screen onto a microphone stand; revealing nothing about the greater scenery which surrounds it.] *Step* *Step* *Step* *Step* *Step* [The small, yet sturdy, pitter-patter of footsteps can be heard walking across your screen, most likely towards the spot light and microphone.] *Step* *Step* *Step* [Suddenly, emerging from the shadows of the unknown surroundings is an unidentified individual. He walks across the stage with his face down, hiding his appearance momentarily. Dressed cleanly in a professional attire, the gentleman's suit is pristine. The smoke gray pinstriped jacket stylishly hugs the frame of the unknown manner, while the checked pocket square is a perfect match for the solidly patterned tie. There is a slight shimmer of the shoes from the light above. As he reaches towards the microphone, there is a small screech and a minor throat clearing before he begins to speak. A familiar face peeks out towards you. Sammy Knight.] Knight: Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and sorry I could not take both. [The opening lines to the famous poem by Robert Frost can be heard in the Knight's recitation. With a slight pause, he continues.] Knight: And be one traveler, long I stood and looked down as far as I could to where it bent with the undergrowth. [Behind the man, a large screen is suddenly illuminated in front of your eyes. Standing alone is Sammy Knight. The formerly sanguine gangbanger from the streets of Compton, California is apparently in a dilemma. A dire situation. Knight, wearing a black wife beater and black track pants, is standing at a distinct fork. The Shootifre Professional Wrestling World Champion can be seen walking to his left, peering down a long and jagged path that's smothered with a yellowish hue. A warning? As Knight gazes down this crooked path he can barely see the end. Faintly in the distance, at the end of a difficult path is the logo of SPW. Difficult is this path for it is littered with growth that can only be described as a vicious mastodon, a dragon in red, countless broken whiskey bottles and a poisonous and wily snake from Gaul. Knight stands with his back to the screen, hands on his hips, looking at the cancerous tumors that separate him from the very company he loves. He shakes his head in dejection. As Knight is left gazing down this twisted path of clutter, he stops. And the screen fades away leaving only the spotlight and dapper dressed Knight.] Knight: Then took the other, as just is fair, and perhaps the better claim, because it was grassy and wanted wear. Though as for that the passing there had worn them really about the same. [The screen is illuminated once again as Knight begins to walk to his right now; his attempt to scope the other path in hope that it is easier. As he walks over and peers down this channel of sorts, it's noticeably more direct. In plain sight, Knight is able to see a shining gold championship belt illuminated at the end. However, blocking that path is a huge road block: that of the infamous 'Hollywood' sign. The sign stretches across the entire path and will prove to be a formidable challenge in and of itself. The path to the belt appears to be cleaner and more direct; the results of less complications. However Knight shakes his head for this path is not any easier. The screen fades away.] Knight: And both that morning equally lay in leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back. [A closer look of Knight can now be seen in the background, as Knight urgently walks back and forth between the two paths. He peers deeply at the right path before looking equally as hard down the left. Between the two paths is a densely thick forest, with seemingly no light or end in sight. On Knight's face you can certainly seeing him weighing his options of the paths. It's almost as if you can see the questions written across the man?s expression. Which is easier? Which is more important? Which way should I go? The screen fades once again with Knight standing in limbo between the two destinations; the faint ticking of a clock is heard behind him.] Knight: I shall be telling this with a sigh somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I ? [Pause.] Knight: I took the ? [Before he finishes the final line of the poem, he abruptly stops. The spotlight is erased permanently with a simple blink of the eye. There are a few moments of silence until they are broken by what sounds like a match being lit. Yes. As soon as the sound strikes your ear, you see a small flame ignite from what appears to be an individual holding a match. As the hand holding the match moves upwards on your screen the scenery begins to make sense. You once again find yourself back with Knight standing between the forked dilemma. For the first time, you realize that you're no longer watching Knight's scene illuminated upon a background screen, but you're standing WITH him. The flame flickers as shadows dance across Knight's stern face. Off to the sides behind him, you're able to see the two roads that Knight could take at Iconoclasm. Knight holds up a match book with his other hand and then holding the match to it, ignites it into a small ball of flames. Without breaking his glance into the camera, Knight throws the book of matches behind him, landing in the heavily wooded area. A small fire begins to burn on the ground behind him.] Knight: Andrew Davis. [He pauses, almost drawing out the last syllable of his next challenger's surname.] Knight: You are not ready. [Looking back once again at the possible choices.] Knight: Not ready for the truth. Not ready for Iconoclasm. Not ready for Sammy Knight. [He points his thumb hard into his chest.] Knight: It doesn't matter though. Because whether you've realized it or not, I've been holding my tongue. I've been carefully choosing when and how to truly address everything you were _AND_ everything you've become. Because it's sad. It truly is. Disappointing even. [He pauses.] Knight: The Lightweight Legend? Let?s talk about "Legend of the Fall." [He looks behind him to see the fire growing.] Knight: Once upon a time, you _WERE_ SPW Andrew. That statement cannot be denied. _EVER_. You're a 2-time World Champion, you've been adorned in championship gold after championship gold. You were _THE_ man. In your career here you helped push the envelope in Shootfire to make this very company the envy of the wrestling world. From your classic battles in past Pay-Per-Views to epic interviews with celebrities and industry writers alike; there was a time when Andrew Davis was synonymous with excellence. Everyone should remember those times. Because I know that I certainly do. Something happened though Andrew, and it changed your velocity, your direction and ultimately your legacy. _YOU_ revealed your true colors. Sadly, Andrew Davis was proven to be nothing more than an imposter. An individual who was using Shootfire as a stepladder for what he ultimately wanted more than anything in this world; the true woman of his dreams if you will: That bitch named Hollywood. [Knight pauses, letting this point sink in slightly.] You see Andrew, _YOU_ were acting all along. Sure you were good, but you were never a wrestler, were you? You never intended to be. Hell, in an interview following your championship loss to AsH you unequivocally proved this by stating that you'd rather be in Hollywood than the SPW Champion. Her pussy was _THAT_ good to you wasn't it? But fans don't forget that shit. Your former wife of SPW doesn't. And I know I certainly haven't. So what ultimately happened when a producer in Tinseltown dialed your number to star in some bullshit little film? [Knight cocks his head ever so slightly in a questioning pose.] Knight: You ran straight for the hills. Wham. Bam. Thank you ma'am. And _THEN_ you have the gall to wonder why exactly you didn't make it into the Hall of Fame. [Knight shakes his head.] Knight: The funny thing is that I can understand that to an extent because I was once like you Andrew. [Pause.] Knight: I was once _PRETENDING_ to be a wrestler when in fact I didn't give a fuck about this sport. But I'm not ashamed either to tell you how wrong, how juvenile and how foolish I was. Go back and watch my first interviews in SPW. All I cared about was the paycheck. The means to support my son. The stability of employment. And to some extent, the fame. But in these last 30 months Andrew, I grew up. Fast. I evolved. I had a revelation and I realized that _THIS_ is not a game. That stepping into the squared circle is more than just _PRETENDING_ to be a wrestler. It's more than just _FEEDING_ our ulterior motives. It's more than just _BEING_ athletic. It's about spilling your own fucking blood for something that's bigger than yourself. It's about fighting until you cannot fight anymore. It's about breaking your bones for those individuals that are no longer with us. The Mike Bisignanos. The Big Smoothys. The countless others. [Knight pauses, sweat begins to drip down his brow as the fire behind him continues to grow, feeding on the unsuspecting forest behind him.] Knight: Andrew, when you took off your wrestling tights in exchange for Dolce and Gabbana shades you turned your back on everything that made you. You turned your back on a relationship. You sold your soul and have refused to apologize for the man you have become. I am a wrestler Andrew. And I'm damn proud of it too. And if you think that I?m going to let _YOU_ , the _ACTOR_, the _IMPOSTER_, of all people run your mouth about the legitimacy of _MY_ title reign without any repercussions, then you're a damned idiot. Because it was never a matter of if? Just a matter of when. And that when is now. San Diego. Iconoclasm. [He pauses.] Knight: The _VERY_ same event where you attempted to do what I will accomplish: help SPW win the Deathwish Cage match _AND_ leave as SPW World Champion. Because you had your chance didn't you? And what exactly happened? You choked. [Knight holds his hands up to his throat.] Knight: Joining the cage late, you helped SPW reign victorious. Yet later in the evening you failed in your attempt to earn the belt. It wasn't a shame either. It was a fitting ending for an individual who pulled the wool over our eyes long enough. Because like you, I was faced with two paths to choose. I've heard countless individuals, friends and foe alike, tell me to ignore the cage and focus on you. Those people don't know me that well then. Because to _KNOW_ Sammy Knight, is to know the dichotomy of who I have become. The individual whom on one hand takes great pride in holding the longest world championship reign in this company's history. The individual who proudly holds onto this industry's biggest prize. Yet on the other hand, I'm an individual who is loyal. Loyal to his friends. Loyal to his company. I was told to choose. So I did. But I made the decision _MY OWN_. [A very confident tone comes from his mouth.] Knight: This time it _WILL_ be different Andrew. Because I am not you. [He pauses.] Because Andrew, you don't care about anything _EXCEPT_ the accolade of being the first 3-time champ. Never have. [The list goes on.] Knight: This _SPORT_ means nothing to you. This _COMPANY_ means nothing to you. Every person who spends their hard-earned money during this recession means _NOTHING_ to you. Because you only want to take. And take. And take. But what exactly have you given? [Knight holds his arms out extended, palms up.] Knight: _NOTHING_. Jack shit. You call yourself a hero. A savior. A parasitic messiah. Yet what type of hero are you truly when you have sacrificed absolutely nothing? [Knight shakes his hands to emphasize the question.] Knight: To be a hero Andrew, you must be willing to lose a part of you. You must be willing to make amends for your shortcomings. You must be willing to actually evolve beyond hollow words. You must sacrifice. And it's painfully obvious Andrew that you sir, are a fraudulent hero who refuses to do any of this. The worst kind. A egomaniacal Hollywood D-lister who is blatantly unwilling to give up your mistress of Hollywood for the wife who left you oh so long ago; the SPW World Championship. She doesn't want you anymore. She's taken her half. And the kids. And she's got a new nigga. A better nigga. And at Iconoclasm she will undoubtedly refuse your proposal to marry her for a third time. Because she's learned her lesson. And _YOUR_ chapter of history is simply not worth being repeated. [Knight looks back at the rapidly moving, destructive fire. The fire continues to move away from him. A charred and ashy path is left behind.] Knight: Andrew, you _USED_ to be a legend. Now you?re nothing more than a loudmouth. You talk and talk and talk. But are you really saying anything _NEW_? No. Yet regardless, I chose to answer your challenge for the simple fact that it needed to be done. It was my duty. And I don't give a fuck if it is _AFTER_ the Deathwish Cage match. The _SAME_ cage match that you so cowardly chose to avoid. The _SAME_ cage match that will allow Shootfire to evict your lackeys. I would've fought you in one of your mansions. I would have fought you in your hometown of Baltimore. Hell, I would have fought you on the set of your next bullshit movie. It didn't matter to me when I made the decision. And it won't matter to me in San Diego. Because I'm doing what I'm doing because it _HAS_ to be done. Simple as that. Because unlike you, I don't have the luxury of a Hollywood calling me. Unlike you, I've never been able to sit down with the Fresh Prince and his wife. _UNLIKE_ you, I am a wrestler. And damn proud of it. And at Iconoclasm, I'm going to do _JUST_ that. And win. [Knight surveys over his shoulder, watching the fire he started grow larger and spread throughout the forest.] Knight: Andrew, rehearsal time is over. Your carefully scripted lines mean absolutely nothing. There will be no _CUTS_ or _TAKE TWOS_ once that bell rings. Because this won't be a movie. There will be no Golden Globe nominations. You won't be able to hide behind the Weinstein brothers and the Miramax flag. And I won't be acting. Because I want to hurt you Andrew. For myself. For SPW. For each and every fan whom you have shitted on with the pursuit of your _TRUE_ dream and your flip-flopping at the expense of so many others. [Knight turns around once again to look at the much more cleared path behind him.] Knight: Andrew, there will be no Hollywood ending for you. Come Iconoclasm, you will have _NO_ stunt man to protect you from the pain that I will inflict upon your traitorous body. For this will be a pain that is real. A pain that is bloody. A pain that is broken. [Pause.] Knight: You see, pain ain't _SHIT_ to me. [Knight peers into the camera, not one sign of doubt.] Knight: I was _BORN_ into pain. I _GREW_ up amidst pain. And I _SURVIVED_ in spite of it. Bullet wounds. Broken bones. Trips to the ICU. It ain't _NOTHING_ to me. You see Andrew, while you might _MAKE_ movies? My life _IS_ the story that your bitch Hollywood loves to tell. [Another pause.] Knight: You sure you want to risk that Hollywood payday and your pretty face by stepping into the ring with me? Because you know you ain't her only ho. And Hollywood never likes losers. [He pauses.] Knight: Simply put Davis, you're a two-time champion. That means you're a two time loser. I'm a one-time champion. Take off your shades and do the fuckin' math. [Beat.] Knight: Odysseus you are not. A hero you are not. And your quest? It ends. [Knight stares intensely into the camera before looking back at the path behind him. The fire is burning far in the distance as a direct path has been created in between the previous two options. Knight looks to the left at the mangled, yellow tinted and hurdled with trouble path. He looks to his right at the straight path collision with the Los Angeles landmark.] Knight: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I ? [Pause. The ending line to Frost's poem.] Knight: I went straight. [His own ending. Knight begins to walk directly ahead and between the two paths.] [Fade to black.] ___________________________________________________________________________ \_______________________________ICONOCLASM________________________________/ /__SPW____< >_______________________< >_______________________< >____SPW__\ | | | | | | | © Myriad 2009 ~ All Rights Reserved | | http://shootfireworld.com | | | | | |___________________________________________________________________________| \__SPW____< >______________________< >________________________< >____SPW__/ /_______________________________ICONOCLASM________________________________\ TV (C C) MA Closed Captioned ______________________________________________ / \ / S H O O T F I R E P R O \ / ___________________________________________ / / / \\ \ // // / / / / ___ \\ ___ \ // // __/ / | | /__/____/ /__/ / // // / / \ \ \/ / // // / / \ \________ \ _____/ |/ |/ / / / / \__\ | / / / / / / / \ / / / \ \___________/_____/_/_______/\______/ / \ ___________________________________ | \ \ \ W R E S T L I N G \ \_______________________________________/® S A P Programación en Español R S N P P V _____________________________________________________________________________ |_____________________________________________________________________________| |__ICONOCLASM_________________________________________________________________| Shootfire Pro proudly presents: ICONOCLASM! From The San Diego Sports Arena, California!! _____________________________________________________________________________ |_________________________________________________________________________SPW_| |_____________________________________________________________________________| ["The Sound of Madness" by Shinedown kicks up as the deep voice booms out across the faded black and white screen as the letters "S P W" rotate in thick red dripping block letters!!] V/O: AND NOW, SHOOTFIRE PRO PROUDLY PRESENTS, ICONOCLASM!!! "Yeah, I get it, You're an outcast. Always under attack. Always coming in last, Bringing up the past. No one owes you anything. I think you need a shotgun blast, A kick in the ass, So paranoid... Watch your back!" [Fade into Nathan Taylor standing over Jack Sharp, the audience screaming out, Jon Quake swinging the nailgun at Eddie Christian's head, Jean Pierre Celine battling it out as DeathKnell strikes him off his feet! Orchid throwing a light down at Jasy O'Neil as The Red Dragon is being beaten across the ring and Dragon throwing a Fireball in the eyes of El Rey Futuro!!!] "Oh my, here we go... Another lose cannon gone bi-polar Slipped down, couldn't get much lower. Quicksand's got no sense of humor. I'm still laughing like hell. You think that the cryin to me, Looking so sorry that I'm gonna believe, You've been infected by a social disease. Well, then take your medicine." [Spooky Doom leaps inside the Deathwish Cage and jams Scott Starring on his skull with the flying DVD!! The Bonecrusher standing in blood as Marissa Monet throws Derek Weaver into a flying Superkick shot from Eddie Christian! James O'Connor battling The Red Dragon inside the ring, beating him from pillar to post as the audience screams!! Sammy Knight is standing face to face with Andrew Davis, as Andrew holds up a ticket in his face and Sammy raises the World Title high!] "I created the Sound of Madness. Wrote the book on pain. Somehow I'm still here to explain, That the darkest hour never comes in the night. You can sleep with a gun. When you gonna wake up and fight... for yourself?" [Fade in to "Violent" Victor Frost swinging Gabriel Van Zahn over and jamming him on his head with the Dortmund Driver! Steve Liermann, Darkside Clyde and Allegra di Baggio enter the ring to celebrate GVZ being forced to join into The Black Mass! Snap to Quinn Scott eliminating Steve Liermann from the Battle Royal! Cut to Spooky Doom flying off the three story video screens at Ringu Faia to splash all the way down into Owen Cage on a table, sending pieces flying up everywhere!!!] "I'm so sick of this tombstone mentality, If there's an afterlife, Then it'll set you free. But I'm not gonna part the seas You're a self-fulfilling prophecy. You think that cryin to me, Looking so sorry that I'm gonna believe, You've been infected by a social disea-" [&*&@$&@$#^@#^@#*@*@*!!!+U**$*@88........*@*!!!+U**$*@88._________] [CROWD SCREAMING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [Cut right to the back as Scott Starring and James O'Connor are brawling it out in the backlot!! The fans are roaring out as James blocks a shot, and fights back sling a slug right into the face of Scott Starring! Starring in his dress clothes, a white shirt and black pants staggers back across the hallway and James comes in to take a kick to the stomach! Starring forearms him in the face and taking O'Connor's head- runs and sends him charging at the wall! James kicks off the concrete and spins back to send the forearm right between Starring's eyes!!] [CROWD ROARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: STARRING FIGHTING JOC IN THE BACK!! WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!! Jim: SCOTT STARRING ISN'T EVEN SCHEDULED TO BE HERE IN SAN DIEGO!!!!! Jack: AND JAMES O'CONNOR BATTLING BACK!! THROWING FISTS INTO SCOTT STARRING! [Starring takes shot after shot to the face and screaming out, cracks his hand so hard in James' face that he nearly breaks his hand!! O'Connor goes sideways Scott goes to his face and rakes in the eyes!! Grabbing the arm, Starring swings around back behind and twists James over, trying to wrench up his arm and break it! Scott pauses, to glare up at the camera, as the boos in the San Diego Sports Arena begin to grow even louder! Starring goes for the legsweep and O'Connor turns out and Starring kills him with the short arm clothesline! Scott grabs the hamerlock in and nails the legsweep DDT right into the floor!!] [CROWD ROARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: NOOO!! STAR KILLER ON THE FLOOR!!!!!!! STAR KILLER ON THE FLOOR! Jim: And Matt Payne stepping into the shot!! James O'Connor oh man, he may have a concussion, Starring took him down and why!? Why now! Why now of all times, why do it at the worst possible time for SPW!! [Scott Starring smiles... and walks off stepping over James as EMTs rush into the shot. Fade out] [EARTH SHATTERING HEEL POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [Cut to the interior of the San Diego Sports Arena, as the thousands and thousands of Californian fans are very upset at seeing one of the Shootfire Army take a huge attack before the Deathwish Cage Match. Instead of fireworks, the camera goes to the announcers, Jack Sharp, Jim Monroe and Sean O'Brady who aren't pleased either, all of them in black and white tuxedos and looking really well dressed over a metallic broadcast table with a red velvet tablecloth. The front reads "Set the World on Fire" and "ICONOCLASM" as Jack snaps his pencil right in half by accident] Jack: Ladies and Gentlemen, Scott Starring, who isn't even supposed to BE HERE tonight starts a fight with one of the Shootfire Army!? Can we- what the hell is going on with Scott Starring okay I'm told Toxic Shock is in the back, he's located Starring let's go right to him- _____________________________________________________________________________ |_____________________________________________________________________________| |__ICONOCLASM_________________________________________________________________| [Backstage, the camera catches up hurriedly with Scott Starring and crew, heading towards the exit of the building at pace.] [EARTH SHATTERING HEEL POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Voice (off camera): SCOTT!! SCOTT STARRING!!! [Starring spins to see Toxic Shock racing to catch up too. Wheeling tries to pull him back, seeming to tell him to ignore the distraction, but Starring shrugs him off and glares at the approaching veteran interviewer. Wheeling’s two heavies take up a defensive perimeter, concerned about potential reprisal attacks, while Payne just takes up a flanking position beside Wheeling.] Shock: What the hell was that!? Why would you do that to James O’Connor?? What has he done, why— Starring: WHY? Why not? WHY FUCKING NOT, Tox?? You think my heart’s gonna bleed for poor James O’Connor? He’s an example, that’s all he is. And that’s what I just made him. He’s a fucking example of the worse excesses of this godforsaken company, and he doesn’t even know it. Shock: What are you talking about!? That was a heinous, unprovoked attack, but then what else can we expect from you these days? [Starring glowers at Tox.] Starring: Who the hell are you to pass judgment on _me_, Tox? You some kind of— Wheeling: Scott, come on. Now’s not the time, it’s not safe. We need to— Starring: We need to, _nothing_, Chris. This fucking moral guardian of all that’s good in SPW wants to know why I did it? I’ll tell you, Tox. This right here tonight, this is… no, this _WAS_... the biggest night, the biggest single opportunity of James O’Connor’s entire career, and you want to tell me how he got it? Because he’s Henry Spikes’ little pet project, that’s how. He’s done _nothing_ in this company. Oh, what? He beat Andrew Davis, right? The hell he did. He was beaten. Embarrassed. He was way out of his league. But throw in the production truck, a restart, and a fast fucking count, and suddenly he’s on top of the Shootfire world. Throw in an abuse of power by a walking piece of garbage named Barry Baldwin, and now he’s got the keys to the kingdom just sitting in his fucking lap? [He jabs a couple of fingers into his own chest.] Starring: Where’s that for me, huh, Tox? Where’s _MY_ chance to shine? I’ve been in this company since 2006, you know that? I’ve bled for this company. I was the only god damn pulse in the wasteland know as the tag team division for over a year, and this company did nothing but _shit_ on me for it. They pushed their flavor of the month into the spotlight over me. Saddled me with a partner who was supposed to be the ‘best in the world’, but they made it so he didn’t give a fucking damn. They let a freak of nature named Marissa Monet walk around carrying _my_ belt. Acting like she ended _my_ Shootfire career. [His blue eye flash with pure disgust at that.] Starring: And then… Jesus Christ. Then, they actually beg me to come back to this fucking hole, and when I do, against EVERY FIBRE OF MY BEING THAT WAS SCREAMING AT ME NOT TO… then they _SHIT_ on me all over again. Throw me to the wolves as an offering to the Heretic. But who’s still here? Who’s still standing? [He shakes his head angrily, glaring off into the distance, before snapping back to Shock.] Starring: This company discarded me like I was nothing, after I betrayed everything I ever stood for to come back to this hell hole. They treated me like an afterthought, except when it came time to make fucking sure I never got in that cage tonight. But you want to tell me who’s earned it more than me? _Nobody_. I‘ve sacrificed more than anyone. I slit open my soul and I let it bleed out on the altar of Shootfire Pro Wrestling, and who… who is it that _represents_ this company? Fucking Sammy Knight, that’s who. A guy so wrapped up in the image of who he’s supposed to be, the lie he projects to the whole fucking world. He won’t let go for a second. The cage. The world title. It’s all got to be about him, right? Because he _is_ Shootfire Pro? No, because he knows he’s _nothing_ without it. Eddie Christian. Another fucking leech hanging on the golden tit. Mike Bisignano all over again, riding Sammy’s blinkered coattails. You want me to call that dagger in the back too, huh? [He lets out a mirthless, snorted laugh as he looks into the camera.] Starring: And Marissa Monet. Another two-face bitch taken in with open arms. Someone who didn’t give a fuck about this company, the invaders, Sammy Knight, or anybody else except her own personal fucking crusade, but now suddenly the doors to the promised land swing open and she’s as Ra-Ra-Shootfire as they come? Yeah, you know what, Tox? I’d say that’s right. I would say she fucking is. Shootfire is betrayal, self-agendas, and selling your soul to get ahead. Shootfire is trampling all over the next guy to push him down and take his spot. Shootfire is _ME_, and I’m the only one honest enough to admit it. Tox: I’m tired of hearing your complaining, Scott. There’s a lot of people that love this company, and James O’Connor is one of them. And what you did to him, however you try to rationalize it, he did _not_ deserve. [Starring gives another abrupt, unpleasant laugh.] Starring: Deserve?? You got me all wrong, Tox. I didn’t do it because he deserved it. I did it because he _needed_ it. The funny part, the most ridiculous part in this whole screwed-up thing, is he may be the only one that was in that cage… in this whole fucking company, that actually _believes_ the bullshit that SPW puts out. Sammy knows the truth. Davis knows. Frost knows. Marissa knows. Bonecrusher knows. They’re all playing the system for nobody but themselves. Even Spikes knows, and the Invaders… they know it more than almost anyone. But James O’Connor… I think he actually doesn’t. I think he really believes in all that’s good and right about Shootfire Pro. You can’t survive like that. Because there _is_ nothing good and right about Shootfire Pro. There is _nothing_ worth fighting and sacrificing for, except yourself and what _you_ want to take from it. So yeah, I made an example, Tox. And I did him a fucking favor too. Now he can sit back in whatever high-priced hospital bed this company sticks him in, and he can watch the myth of Shootfire Pro Wrestling fall apart, until the true face of this company stands staring him in the eye. And then… then maybe he’ll thank me for what I’ve done tonight… [He turns an unpleasant smirk into the camera, letting it linger for a moment, then he turns away with a dismissive sneer in Shock’s direction. The rest of the group clear out behind him as we fade out back to the broadcast table] _____________________________________________________________________________ |_________________________________________________________________________SPW_| |_____________________________________________________________________________| [MONSTROUS HEEL POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [Fade back and the announcers are pissed! Jack Sharp throws his cards everywhere! The fans are booing as Sean and Jim listen on their earpieces] Jack: Fans, James O'Connor has been attacked by Scott Starring and Matt Payne, and as we just saw in the most disgusting and horrible possible time for SPW. Starring, upset with Shootfire Pro, because he didn't have a match, making an example and apparently taking out one of our team here tonight before the Deathwish Cage!! Sean: Well what happens to the DCM now!? Barry Baldwin has already left the San Diego Sports Arena to go with O'Connor to the hospital and it's promised the two will be back by time for the match itself, at least that's the word from Bonecrusher, team captain of the Shootfire Army- but Scott Starring HAD to make a name for himself RIGHT NOW at the worst possible time for SPW!? Jim: All season long Starring has been on a downward spiral, his career, his life, his entire existence has been plummeting to the dirt since he turned on his partner and struck out on his own, surrounded by lying weasels like Chris Wheeling and living attack dogs like Matt Payne, and this he wants to make a statement, he wants to make an impact, but he knows it's at the worst possible time to do it and he hurts his entire federation and let me tell you, Scott Starring does not care anymore. You heard him, you saw him, he left the Sports Arena telling us all where to go and I gotta think if the Invaders win now, it's because of that man... how did we miss this, was there anything we could have done? Jack: I'm afraid not, and hopefully Baldwin can get James cleared by match time. Wrestling fans, I hate to think that we have to start off Iconoclasm on a note like this, on a tone of hopelessness and defeat, as those words we didn't want to apply to a night like this- a night which should be one of triumph and majesty for the loyal Superstars of SPW, as we finally rid ourselves of the scourge that's been plaguing us since Ringu Faia... now... now that's all in doubt. Sean: Four matches tonight could swing the balance of power and already one of the major ones looks to be in real jeopardy. But if anyone can pull through it's the heart and determination shown by real warriors in the Shootfire Army, so let's just keep contact with Barry all night long and do whatever we have to do to make sure O'Connor is ready for the cage.. Jim: I don't know how he'd be. This is horrible, this sucks. Can you imagine what would happen if the Invaders won!? SPW might never recover! Jack: Well the first of those matches here tonight, begins now and hopefully we can at least get off to a winning start. El Rey Futuro returns to the wrestling ring as he faces a man who will be doing double duty, the enigmatic asshole, The Red Dragon. You're watching Iconoclasm ladies and gentlemen, let's head up to the ring with Steve Stone and the official introductions. _____________________________________________________________________________ |_____________________________________________________________________________| |__ICONOCLASM_________________________________________________________________| THE RED DRAGON -vs- EL REY FUTURO _____________________________________________________________________________ |_________________________________________________________________________SPW_| |_____________________________________________________________________________| [The thumping beat from 'Red Dragon' by the Swollen Members kicks up loudly, the chorus of boos already pouring in. The Red Dragon angrily pushes out from backstage, as the lyrics come in shortly after... ] "From the lungs of an original member, Savagest traveler, pick my teeth with the bones of cadavers. Ravagin' magic, this rappin', you cabbage Swing a battle axe, 'cause I can't stay average Roll with the maverick who moves by the 'matic Down with the ice vein, anger misguided The phantom in you coward little guys, why can't you fathom that pattern in the sky. It's dark when I wake, light comes when I sleep Fright comes often when you walk down my street Embark on my freedom, no more science discoveries Acid on your brain makes the whole seem lov-e-ly And you thought I coulnd't rock this way? YOu though wrong partner, my thought displays the most constant to complain that I bring when I choose it Fuck when you wanna see me use it Red DRAGON..." [At the end of the verse, Red Dragon points to himself with both thumbs, Having absorbed enough the hate from the fans in San Diego, The Red Dragon starts his way towards the ring, smirk on his face.] [Scratch, scratch] unbelievable. [Scratch, scratch] unbelievable. [Scratch, scratch] unbelievable. {scratch, scratch] Red DRAGON (dragon, dragon, dragon) [Scratch, scratch] unbelievable. [Scratch, scratch] unbelievable. [Scratch, scratch] unbelievable. {scratch, scratch] Un-be-be-be-be-believable [Dragon seems to get in an argument with a fan in an aisle-side seat, kicking at the guardrail as the second verse kicks in...] "I'm not easily amused, I snap when the fuse blow Alligator trap door, to crunch on a fool's foe YO, the brain of an unstable genius, crossin' your face when the gun safety freezes One hasty then quick in discoverin, reasons react when the gats gon' be bustin in yo dome, with no buffer zone Bufferin's useless, just bleed when you suffer, home Buffalo roam, the bison stampede, icing on the cake is the moment you see the scorpion changin' to fire from the nostril Hostile, it's father colossal. Red DRAGON" [Red Dragon jaws a little more from the apron after hopping up, before turning around to springboard flip into the ring, landing perfectly on his feet.] [Scratch, scratch] unbelievable. [Scratch, scratch] unbelievable. [Scratch, scratch] unbelievable. {scratch, scratch] Red DRAGON (dragon, dragon, dragon) [Scratch, scratch] unbelievable. [Scratch, scratch] unbelievable. [Scratch, scratch] unbelievable. {scratch, scratch] Un-be-be-be-be-believable [Once in the ring, he heads to the ropes on the 'TV Side', and in the grand tradition of most Dragons, spits out a flame up into the air, while the flame Pyro erupts from the cornerposts.] "My voice resonates to ignore these featherwieghts Resumes piled up with the acid taste Recusitate the double horned side of me Collidin' with tusks can make the harm bodily Idle hands never, but my workshop's still hot Operations are pure rim, i steal shots mad mortician is half pound deficient your crab ass wishing that ya had another mission in mind Instead of tryin' to fuck with mine Underestimation is half of the crime I'm rappin sublime in my crafty design You fool the unweary, put a snap in your spine Don't be sorry you just findin' out, chop your neck off motherfucker now you really besides yourself cyber mouth, this is more tangble than keypads you aint so tough with them kneepads Red DRAGON" [As the song starts to wind down, Dragon runs the ropes a few times, hooking his arms behind them on the side opposite the etrance, as he waits for the start of the match, staring straight ahead] Stone: THE FOLLOWING HAS BEEN SET FOR ONE FALL! INTRODUCING FIRST, REPRESENTING THE INVADERS, FROM SAPPORO JAPAN, WEIGHING IN AT 210 POUNDS, THIS IS THE RRRRRRRRRRED DRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAGON!!!!!!!!!! [MONSTER HEEL POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [The lights in the arena turn gold. As the light turns, white rose pedals fall from the top of the arena mixing in mysteriously with the gold light. After a few silent moments we hear the Mexico City Pilharmonic Orchesta and The National Youth Orchestra Of Mexico blending together to produce a classical sounding Mexican beat. As the beat picks up we hear a group of female Mexican Sopranos in a chant.] "We Present The Bendecido We Give You The Chosen The Bendecido Is Coming Welcome The Bendecido" [A Gregorian chant begins until the voice of Sonora Martinez comes over the PA] "I Present _YOU_ EL REY FUTURO" "The King Has Come" [The beat picks up mixing in the classical Mexican Orchestra sound with Sonora Martinez’s bands rock sound. El Rey Futuro comes from the back with a spotlight on him wearing his normal attire with a white cape with his symbolic picture of a Priest with his hands together, with a crown on his head in a gold color. The San Diego crowd lets out a cheer as Futuro makes his way to the ring.] "The Legend Of Futuro Is Here You Want The Best? We're Giving It To You You Want The King?! He Has Come" [The music continues as Futuro is followed with the spotlight on him, he reaches out touching the hands of a few fans. Futuro makes his way up the steel steps before leaping over the top rope and whipping his cape off, throwing in to the ringside assistant.] Stone: AND HIS OPPONENT, FROM LEON MEHEECO... WEIGHING IN AT 239 POUNDS AND STANDING 6 FOOT 2, HE IS! ELLLLL RRRRRRRRRRRREEEEYYY FUUUTUUUURRRRRRRRRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [FANS CHEER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: Red Dragon in the ring, El Rey Futuro finally being cleared to compete. The silent avenger in the ring and ready to draw a line in the sand, according to him Dragon will never even make it to the final fight. Does he have what it takes to stop The Red Dragon and give SPW the one man advantage going in? Sean: I have no idea but El Rey Futuro will put his own body on the line to keep Dragon outta the Cage and perhaps our entire hopes may be running with Futuro... our Referee is Charles Eden, and let's get ready to rumble, as they say. Jim: Who says!? *DINGDINGDING!* [Futuro charges with the headlock but Dragon slides for the drop toehold yet El Rey dives into a front roll!! Coming up he runs across the ring and charges across, slamming off the side as Red Dragon turns to fly with the corkscrew back elbow, right as El Rey hangs on, pulling to slide out of the ring! Red Dragon takes to the air, slingshotting himself over the side with the flying plancha as Futuro charges out of the way! Dragon is able to land on his feet right as El Rey runs to leap and lock the head before sailing down to send Red Dragon into a flip himself!!] [FANS CHEER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: DRAGON SENT INTO THE AIR AND RIGHT INTO THE FLOOR PADS!! Sean: Dragon hurting and El Rey in with the forearm chop! Red Dragon taking a beating as El Rey with the arm, in and irish whip to send the Puro enthusiast charging but Dragon sent to crash into the barricades! ***CRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSHHHH!!!!!*** [FANS ROAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jim: Good guys these guys so fast MY ribs hurting from calling the action! Sean: Dragon hit hard and El Rey charging, Red Dragon ducking to toss El Rey up and over the side, right into the fans!! [HUGE FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: But FUTURO landed on his feet! And thank god he did he coulda landed on the fans!! Sean: Dragon turns, Futuro with a forearm smash over the side, and grabs in the masked cowl for the head, locks and suplex up into the air, no Dragon sliding back behind and wraps the waistlock, the fans running as RED DRAGON NAILS THE GERMAN SUPLEX INTO THE FRONT ROW OF CHAIRS!!! ***CRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAASSSHHHHH!!!!!!**** [MONSTER HEEL POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: OH MY GOD!! FUTURO LANDED CRASHING RIGHT ON HIS SHOULDERS! HAD HE NOT TUCKED HIS HEAD THAT COULD HAVE BEEN IT FOR THE PRIDE OF MEXICO! Jim: And the Referee being VERY lenient here in the early going! But Red Dragon man, he knows those head dropping moves are sick, the master of Puro strong style wrestling. Jack: Yes indeed Jim as Red Dragon now dragging Futuro back in over the side, hefts him up over the shoulders and lifting him high, turns and THROWS THE FALCON ARROW FUTURO COUNTERS WITH A MID AIR REVERSE RANA!!!! [FANS SCREAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: And Futuro up and crawling into the ring! Oh he can barely move but he sure pulled out a miracle there! The Red Dragon down and doesn't know where he is!! Can Futuro do this- can he hit!? [Futuro hops and turning back, rushes to charge across to the far side! Slamming off the cables he runs full speed and leaps as Dragon pulls away! Futuro dives his neck into the top rope to bounce off shocking Dragon with the fake! The fans cheer out as Red Dragon looks up and Futuro slingshots over the side to take Dragon out with a corkscrew plancha!!!!] [MONSTER FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: AND EL REY FUTURO TAKING RED DRAGON OUT LIVE HERE IN THE SAN DIEGO SPORTS ARENA!! "FUTURO!!!!" "FUTURO!!!!" "FUTURO!!!!" "FUTURO!!!!" "FUTURO!!!!" Sean: And El Rey Futuro looking up to the fans across California, happy to see their hero back in action since being taken out by a horrible fireball attack perpetrated by The Red Dragon. And as Dragon crawls away on his belly like a lizard El Rey looking to take him up and toss him right back inside to continue the payback. Jack: Damn you've improved at this Sean. Jim: He learned from me. And quite honestly I never even got a thank you! Sean: Well Red Dragon getting a thank you of sorts for Futuro's time off, in a Lucha Style Ass Kicking!! [Dragon crawls to his feet as El Rey springboards off the top rope! Sailing through the air he lands knees first on Red Dragon's shoulders to dive forward and once again send Dragon flying through the air!! The fans roar out as Dragon lands on his back- Futuro up and jumping to the second rope to sail backwards with the Quebrada right into the Vertical Splash!!] [HUGE FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: OH!! Jack: The Red Dragon hurting, suffering as El Rey Futuro reaches down, gutwrenching the man upwards and tilt a whirl right into THE SHORT POWERBOMB!!! [FANS CHEER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jim: AND EL REY LOOKING TO TAKE THIS ONE HOME!! 1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 3NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!! [CROWD BOOS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: Oh that was 3! That was 3!! So close if not but I coulda sworn that was 3- Jim: Eh, the Ref is new. Sean: Either way El Rey Futuro not wasting any time, up and rolling his massive arm to the fans, he wants to put this away and if the beating continues, so much the better. Jack: Futuro dragging Red Dragon up and tosses him into the corner- climbing up and looking out to the fans, holding up a fist! Raising it into the air and slams it down across the face of Dragon!! And beginning a huge beatdown as the Ten Punch Count begins and the fans sing along!! UNO!!! DOS!!! TRES!!! QUATRO!!! CINCO!!!!!! SEIS!!!!!!!!!!! SIETE!!!!!!!! OCHO!!!!!!! NUEVE!!!!!!! DIES!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [CROWD CHEERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [Futuro smiles, jumping down and catching the wobbly Red Dragon, launches him with an overhead toss to send the man flying through air, slamming down across his spine straight into the canvas! The Red Dragon sits up in pain, gripping at his back as El Rey Futuro is already in the air to grab the head and nail it with a Rolling Necksnap!! Futuro pops up arms raised high!] [FANS CHEER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: Futuro working the fans, rolling his arm as he goes to look out across San Diego! And The Red Dragon needs to do something if he wants to get through this match, let alone the Deathwish Cage! Jack: Dragon rises up and Futuro plants the big kick right into his stomach doubling him over. Charging the ropes, El Rey leaps to lock the head and slams the somersault neckbreaker down hard!! The fans cheering out, oh they want to see the win and they want to see it bad- the hook of the leg here comes the pin and Charles Eden with the count- 1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 3-NOOOOOOOOO!! AND RED DRAGON GETS THE SHOULDER UP!! [FANS BOOING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: Almost had him so close and that time it would appear that was an even count, well, credit The Red Dragon with having some survival instinct. I mean we don't even really know anything about Red Dragon, who is, where he came from, just that he was an IGA developmental deal. Apparently he held some gold in Nippon Pro but I've never even heard of that federation. Does anyone really know what this guy is all about? [The Red Dragon crawls up to the ropes, using them to pull himself up as El Rey strides across the ring, grabbing at his cowl and measuring- slams the fist to the side of the head. The fans cheer as Dragon hangs on, and El Rey raises up the fist as he batters down Dragon once again!] Jim: No but I don't think it matters, all we know is he's an Invader and he must die. Especially if El Rey has anything to say about it! Jack: El Rey whipping Dragon across the ring! The Red Dragon off the side, EL REY PICKS HIM UP INTO THE MILITARY PRESS!! Sean: AND FUTURO WALKING AROUND!! PRESSING DRAGON OVER HIS HEAD! [The Red Dragon begins battering El Rey with forearms!! The fans are popping as Dragon lands on his feet back behind, pulling in the headlock but Rey ducks to snapmare the man right over, rising and spins with the discus lariat but Dragon hooks the arm to kick back around the body and spikes the Tornado DDT!] [HUGE CROWD POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: OHHH!! Sean: DRAGON dumped Futuro on his head and now both men down! Jim: The longer this match continues guys I don't know who the advantage goes to. The Red Dragon bought himself some time with that precision comeback but he's in no shape to capitalize, and both men down in the middle of the ring here at SPW Iconoclasm here in the San Diego Sports Arena, see I can shill too, eat your heart out Jack Sharp. Jack: Ha- well Jim: SUNDAY SUNDAY SUNDAY!! Sean: El Rey Futuro starting to get back up again as Dragon rolling over, clamps on the front facelock again with the wear down hold! But Red Dragon bringing up his knees to strike Futuro head on! OH! Over and over again, just blasting the masked man and now unloading with snap kicks! Not so stiff but believe me at this point they're as hard as Dragon possibly can. Jim: You know one thing I've noticed... is The Red Dragon never really cheats. I mean sure he hangs out with the Invaders but he rarely ever really cheats inside the wrestling ring. I guess he's too proud to act that way and prefers to win via his own merits. Not that he can't bust out a fireball or a chairshot to make a statement. Jack: Well noble or not, if he is an Invader I hope he's not long for our fed. And you may have something there- as The Red Dragon locks the full nelson in, in control, some say pride but I say arrogance, much like the rest like a Jean Pierre Celine, he is here to put himself over at the expense of the ones that earned their places the hard way. And they expected quite frankly a cakewalk. Sean: RED DRAGON WITH THE DRAGON SUPLEX!! ALL IMPACT NO BRIDGE! [CROWD BOOS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: Arrogance, once again, I think he shoulda gone for the cover. Sean: Dragon over and pulling up Futuro, swings the fist FUTURO BLOCKS IT!! Jack: See. Sean: Dragon swings FUTURO BLOCKS IT AND ANSWERS BACK!! HARD RIGHT HAND!! [FANS CHEERING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] "FUTURO!!!!" "FUTURO!!!!" "FUTURO!!!!" Jack: EL REY FUTURO WHIPPING THE RED DRAGON ACROSS THE RING!! AND DRAGON OFF THE SIDE FUTURO SWINGS THE CLOTHESLINE! Sean: DRAGON CAUGHT THE ARM! SWINGS AROUND THE SIDE TO COME UP LEGS AROUND THE HEAD HE HAS THE OCTOPUS HOLD ON MY GOD HOW DID HE _DO_ THAT! [FANS ROARING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: THE RED DRAGON HAS FUTURO TRAPPED! Sean: AND FUTURO STILL ON HIS FEET! FIGHTING... TO GET AT THE ROPES!! [El Rey takes step after step, struggling to get at the side, trying to go for the ropes as Dragon is wrenching back on his arm, legs squeezing around the neck. He is pulling hard as he can, and El Rey is beginning to lose steam... to go slower, as The Red Dragon rips back on the octopus hold. The fans are roaring out across the Sports Arena as El Rey reaches the hand out, clenching and finally gets the side! Dragon releases as Futuro falls against the ropes... and The Red Dragon spreads open his arms to bow at the jeering fans] [MONSTER HEEL POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: Futuro hangs off the side, and fights to get back in as Dragon slams the forearm into the head! El Rey stumbles and Dragon hooks the head over to kick up off the head and fly off the side to slam the Cyclone DDT! Jim: OHHH!! Jack: FUTURO NAILED HARD! And Red Dragon to the ropes! Climbing up, crawling to the very top, El Rey to his feet, turns around and DRAGON OFF THE SIDE! FRONT FLIP INTO THE HEADSCISSORS!! Sean: DRAGONRANA PIN!!! 1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 3-NNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Sean: Futuro kicks out!! He escaped! El Rey Futuro escapes the Dragonrana Pin! Jack: And The Red Dragon right on his back, stomping him down, wrapping the leg in and reaching in pulls the head back and locking in the Dragon Sleeper to sit up with the Mexican Surfboard he has the Dragon Slayer submission hold cinched in. Sean: The Red Dragon wrapping in the Dragon Slayer he wants to put Futuro away, but El Rey Futuro trying his best to get the heck outta that maneuver, trying to fight, he has heart, his arm shaking, he is too proud to quit, too proud to tap! Jim: Too estupido, even if it means his neck breaking! Muy estupido, you want to count his heart? It'll be all over the mat in a second! Sean: El Rey Futuro clenching at the arm of The Red Dragon- can he power out? It seems he put on some weight, put on some muscle in his time off, but is it enough to get free of this particularly dangerous hold! Jack: El Rey Futuro struggling against hope to get free, trying to power out and The Red Dragon determined to win via tapout live here in San Diego! Futuro with the arm- AND He's DOING IT!! [CROWD ROARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: FUTURO BREAKING THE HOLD AND HE'S OUT! Jim: HE GOT THE ROPES! UNBELIEVABLE!! [FANS CHEER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: Futuro hanging on, Dragon dismayed as he crawls away, but he has not given up as the damage has most definitely been done. Man these just going tooth and nail. Both slowly beginning to stand as the Referee wants to see both return to the center and fight-- [The Red Dragon yells out as suddenly the fans scream!! From out of the back Marissa Monet charges down the aisle as Futuro locks onto Dragon and San Diego roars out! Futuro lands the european uppercut to smash Red Dragon back as Eddie Christian comes in from over the railing!! Jumping to slide inside, he rushes with a tire iron in hand and swings to smash The Red Dragon in his leg!! The audience screams as Dragon falls down clutching his leg and the Referee instantly calls for the bell!!!] [MONSTER POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: CHRISTIAN TOOK OUT DRAGON'S KNEE!! AND MARISSA MONET IN! FUTURO CAN'T BELIEVE IT!! ****DINGDINGDINGDINGDINGDINGDINGDING!!!!***** Jack: AND THE RED DRAGON WILL WIN THIS FIGHT BY DISQUALIFICATION! [Marissa Monet charges Dragon as he tries to stand and Monet hits a flying scissor taking him down! She instantly pops up the heel hook as The Red Dragon starts tapping right away!! The fans are roaring out as Futuro shouts down- and Eddie pushes him back telling him they have to take Dragon out!! El Rey argues yelling at Christian as Red Dragon is shouting out- and the Referee instantly calls for Security!!!] [CROWD BOOING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: THE SHOOTFIRE ARMY CAUSING A BLATANT DISQUALIFCIATION ATTACK!! AND LOOKING TO DO SERIOUS DAMAGE TO THE LEG OF THE RED DRAGON!! [The Red Dragon shouts and yells as Security rushes in, El Rey Futuro leaving the ring, furious at being embarrassed, and black shirted Security forces climb inside! Maurice steps up to get in and Eddie Christian smacks him with the iron knocking him down off the apron!! Security runs to grab Eddie who drops from their clutches and Superkicks a guard upside the face!!] ****CRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACKKKKKKK!!!!**** [FANS ROAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: BORN CHAMPION ATTACKING OUR SECURITY AND MARISSA MONET TRYING TO BREAK RED DRAGON'S LEG!! Jim: DRAGON FLAILING AROUND!! THEY'RE TRYING TO BREAK HIS LEG!! Sean: CHRISTIAN WITH THE SAVATE KICK TO ANOTHER GUARD!! AND DUCKS TO SPIN AND LARIATS ANOTHER OUT OF HIS WAY!! THEY ARE TRYING TO BREAK DRAGON AND KEEP HIM OUT OF THIS MATCH!! Jack: AND HERE COME THE INVADERS!!!! [Jean Pierre Celine and Wild Bill Ian run out of the back, Bill with the whisky bottle in hand, charging down the aisle as Eddie Christian tosses another Security guard right over the top rope!! The audience is screaming out in San Diego and JDM Superstar, Orchid and "The Mastadon" Nathan Taylor runs down the ramp- Marissa Monet releasing to slide outside as Eddie Christian slides out as well, just as the Invaders dive inside the ring!! The fans are roaring, most of them cheering, as Christian and Monet head around the ring for the aisle, livid and yelling out!! The Red Dragon lays holding his ankle, miserable as he can't even attempt to get up!] [FANS CHEERING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: MARISSA MONET AND EDDIE CHRISTIAN USING THE INVADERS OWN TACTICS AGAINST THEM!! WHAT DOES THIS MEAN FOR THE MAIN EVENT! Jim: IT WASN'T EVEN THE INVADERS WHO ATTACKED O'CONNOR!! IT WAS SCOTT STARRING!!!! Sean: MONET AND CHRISTIAN HAD ENOUGH!! MAYBE THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT THEY NEEDED TO DO TO PUT THINGS BACK ON A LEVEL PLAYING FIELD!!!! Jack: The Invaders standing tall as Wild Bill calling Medics to come in and check on Red Dragon, this does not look good... but hopefully SPW's luck just changed. We are now down one fight to the Invaders... and what's this? Jean Pierre Celine calling for the mic!?! "SPW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" "SPW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" "SPW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Sean: And this capacity crowd wants none of him!! JPC DEMANDING The Mic and has to face down an arena that's calling for his head, thirsting for his blood!! Well after what we just saw, this ought to be good. "SPW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" "SPW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" "SPW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" [Jean Pierre stands, in his white dress shirt and red snakeskin tuxedo pants, brushing back his blonde locks as he grips up the block SPW microphone in his white gloved hands.... and stares out as the Invaders are boiling over, ready to snap at a moment's notice and maim anyone that gets in their way!!] Jack: These SPW fans won't even let Celine talk!! The self-proclaimed leader of the group, taking up OUR microphone and I for one hope these guys get booed out of the building! Oh did Red Dragon get hurt? Try sitting out an entire season with a staph infection thanks to Nathan Taylor!! [Jean Pierre scowls and raising the microphone high, begins as he speaks through the taunts. Holding out a cigarette in his other hand, he waits as JDM hurries over to light it, Orchid hovering over Dragon as Nathan Taylor stands guard.] Jean Pierre Celine: Bonjour madams et monsieur's... 'ow are you zzzis evening? Probably feeling pretty good! Really liking your chances in putting down our little invasion, yes? After what happened here to Red Dragon! And after last week... when your stars were left shining, with us running with our tails between our legs. What chance could we stand? Last week sure was feel good, remember last week, Bill? When zzzeir world champion resorted to cheating to pull off a victory, on account of zzze fact zzzat 'e just couldn't 'andle us cleanly... yeah, last week was a real barrel of laughs. OH and zzze end... when Shootfire FINALLY decided to get on zzze same page, and out numbering us, get an upper 'and. Wasn't zzzat swell? Didn't you just mark zzze FUCK out? I did. ...I did. [Celine starts to lower his microphone ready to leave... fuck the producers and your 34.95. You're PAYING for this PPV, right? You start to hate the Invasion a little more. ...Celine starts to walk away, then double takes.] Jean Pierre Celine: Wait a minute... Outnumber us... 'ow'd zzzey pull zzzat off? Most of Shootfire DOESN'T give a SHIT about zzzis invasion. Zzze ENTIRE collective Black Mass 'ave been more concerned with looking better zzzan a single woman. Zzze Fusion division is worried zzzey might develop a personality getting involved in a "feud," so don't appear outside of GENERIC multi-man matches. When Spikes can take 'is mind off of O'Connor's nuts, zzze only zzzing on 'is mind is not rocking zzze boat less 'e loses 'is job. Zzze tag division is in a pissing contest over who is zzze less pleasant personality, and when one of them made an effort to break out of zzzat boring program, everyone else zzzought 'e was too big an asshole. What a great federation, you're trying to defend. YEAH, zzzere are very few people who actually "care" about defending zzzis lame organization... 'ow zzze 'ell do zzze FEW outnumber us? I was zzzere. [Sneering, Celine lights another cigarette, before turning to his colleagues for support on this. None of them seems to be in a good mood, as JDM shouts at the Medics to take it easy on Dragon...] Jean Pierre Celine: ...You were zzzere right, Bill? Moving on, Nathan... Red... 'ell, even JDM managed to pull 'imself away from DCWL long enough to pitch in. So why didn't we 'ave zzze numbers? Oh right! Andrew "Mother Fucking" Davis! So forgettable, I almost didn't notice! Zzze lightweight legend... zzze man who *might* challenge for zzze world title tonight, but wants to do it on 'is own terms. My rival for Invasion leadership ...Andrew Davis. You didn't really 'ave our backs... now did you, Andy? ...We could 'ave used zzze hand... but you don't really care about zzzis Invasion, do you? [HUGE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jim: You know- that's true, Andrew Davis is probably up in his skybox right now, watching on he never gets involved in helping the Invaders. Sean: Of course not, because he uses them like he does everyone else. Jean Pierre Celine: ...You know, I 'ave little doubt in my mind zzzat zzzese people in zzzis ring with me, are coming out victorious. We are a REAL team... we are WINNERs. ...But at zzze start of zzze season, if you'd said we'd be in zzze deathwish... I'd 'ave called you a liar. I figured we'd be in title matches, feuds... I figured JDM would bring in a couple of ringers for zzze main event, guys like Dave Pietka... guys like Chad Allen... guys like zzze "Second Coming..." guys like zzze NEW invasion... ...It's sort of like our invasion is already being forgotten... like zzze ONLY REASON WE'RE WORKING TONIGHT, is to "soften up" Sammy Knight, so zzzat our good friend Andy can FINALLY win another world title. [CROWD BOOING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jean Pierre Celine: I'm not a FUCKING foot note in zzze world title 'istory. I'm zzze FUTURE of it! [MONSTER HEEL POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jean Pierre Celine: ...Zzze one zzzing we 'ave over Shootfire... other zzzan our superior LOOKS, TALENT, MATCHES, PROMOS, SKILLS, and drawing ability... is our teamwork... now Davis, you don't want to be a team player... you just made the worst mistake you could. [Long drag, Celine blows a smoke circle at the camera, before spinning around, extending an arm to the Red Dragon as he tries to help him up, Dragon unable to rise and Celine shakes his head... going to the ropes to face the hard cameras.] Jean Pierre Celine: It dawns on me... Red Dragon 'ere 'as to pull double duty tonight. So we're going four on four... and wouldn't you know it, one of our guys now may not even make it, and if he is he will not be at 100 percent. Is zzzat fair? I ask you! SPW has 30 Superstars, they will be at 100 percent, while us "Invaders" go 100 percent... down from our usual 110? Fuck no. We're on your territory... we're doing your match... you have zzze advantage... if Red Dragon has to break a sweat MURDERING El Rey Futuro, and he takes a tire iron to the LEG, zzzen it's only fair, zzzat one of your guys wrestle beforehand as well. SAMMY KNIGHT... you're defending zzze title tonight. Maybe against Andrew Davis... that's up to 'im. ...If 'e wants to be a pussy about it, defend against someone else... but you were advertised making a title match... and you're going to wrestle it, before we GRACE ZZZIS RING WITH OUR PRESENCE AGAIN! [CROWD ROARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack:: WHAT IS THIS!?! Jim: THE INVADERS HAVE HAD IT! -WITH ANDREW DAVIS!!!! Sean: I think Davis just shit himself. Jean Pierre Celine: Zzzat's right Sammy, we're not softening you up for Davis... he's softening YOU up for US. Showing the kind of SUPPORT 'e should 'ave on zzze last show. Zzzanks Andy... shit like zzzis is why you're almost my co-leader. Zzzis is non-negotiable Shootfire... zzzis isn't a double main event, zzze men you see in zzze ring, zzze guys who popped your ratings zzzis season... we are _ZZZZZZZZZE_ MAIN EVENT!!! I look forwards to watching a Sammy Knight CLASSIC before any of us work a death wish cage match. ...And zzzis time Andrew, we genuinely are rooting for you. [JPC smiles....] Jean Pierre Celine: ...Shootfire Pro... I 'ope you enjoy us dictating terms... we show NO SIGNS of stopping anytime soon... [Fireworks go off... and compromising fake pornography falls from the ceiling!! NIN's "Closer" begins up over the PA System as boos fill the ring!! More smiles from your sinister saviour as Orchid and JDM help Dragon from the ring.] [CROWD ROARING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: WHAT THE HELL IS RAINING FROM THE CEILING!! Jack: Good LORD I've never seen any team like this before. A bombshell fans. A bombshell has been dropped here in the Sports Arena. Jean Pierre Celine has pulled rank, and now it seems the Invaders have cut all ties with Andrew Davis. They're refusing to step foot back inside the wrestling ring until after Davis challenges Sammy for the World Title, using Andrew to soften their opponent up instead. Jim: I never thought I'd see this but in retrospect I should have seen this coming, you do not trust a snake, no matter what generation he is. And to be perfectly honest- Celine is right! What has Andrew Davis ever done to help the Invaders, at all. Nothing! He's used them, left and right to do his dirty work and then pretended like he was too good to be out there, fighting in the trenches with them. This was a long time coming and now at the very least we might have the Invaders to THANK if because of them they keep Davis from becoming the World Champ!? Sean: What the HELL is raining from the ceiling!? Jack: This night is something we never figured on. But you know what guys? With them kicking Davis out of the Invaders this actually gives Barry Baldwin more time to help convince the Doctors to allow James O'Connor to compete!! For that reason and that reason alone I see the World Heavyweight Champion agreeing with this, in fact every second longer this card goes before it seems, now our FINAL main event, JOC is enabled more of a chance to get back to the Sports Arena and compete in the Deathwish Cage! Sean: Is, I think that's porn! Jim: Yeah that's true James may not be out of the Deathwish!!! Hopefully Knight can drag Davis the extra thirty minutes or more, that will help James O'Connor get back here and wrestle for Team SPW!! Jack: Well our World Tag Team Title Match is next, and that should go for awhile. Still, it's going to be a really close call. A REALLY close call and odds on O'Connor getting here, after what Scott Starring did to him, are not high. Sean: Are we that numb and jaded that nobody notices Jean Pierre raining porn all over the San Diego Sports Arena? That we're actually used to living lives under the influence of the Invaders, sick deluded machinations? Jim: Um, yeah what did you just get here? Jack: We'll take our chances where we can, much like Eddie Christian and now we don't even know if The Red Dragon can compete thanks to Marissa Monet. Wrestling fans, what a night it has been and we only just finished our opening match. The World Tag Team Title Belts have been disputed for quite some time now, it's let's allow fate to dictate time where it wants as we head back up for the ring, and we finally determine just who will become our indisputed Tag Team Champions of the World. This night will never be forgotten in the history of SPW, I can tell this already. _____________________________________________________________________________ |_____________________________________________________________________________| |__ICONOCLASM_________________________________________________________________| 8 Belt World Tag Team Title Ladder Match DEADBEATS vs TEAM EGO vs O'MALLEYS vs BLACK MASS _____________________________________________________________________________ |_________________________________________________________________________SPW_| |_____________________________________________________________________________| [Fade to high above the ring, as an eight pronged hook hangs from a wire... all eight World Tag Team Title Belts strapped and swaying silently high above the squared circle... the mexican striped titles, the neon leather encased world tag titles, the drinking bottle tag titles, and the original world tag team titles in their red encasing... and a slow roar from the fans begins to build out] ***DING DING DING*** [HUGE FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [The fans start rocking as AC/DC's "Have a Drink on Me" blares throughout the jam-packed arena! Lightning flashes across the screen as the audience pops! A bolt of static hits the stage as "KID LIGHTNING" flashes across the SPWTron!!] "Whiskey, gin and brandy With a glass I'm pretty handy I'm trying to walk a straight line On sour mash and cheap wine So join me for a drink boys We're gonna make a big noise" [Anthony runs out on the stage as the fans pop crazy! Decked out in flashy pea green long shorts, with a red lightning bolt emblazed on his butt, O'Malley stops and looks around for a moment. Brushing back his thick mop of red hair, Anthony gazes through the crowd with his piercing blue eyes and points at a few select people as the fans continue to cheer!!] "So don't worry about tomorrow Take it today Forget about the cheque We'll get hell to pay Have a drink on me [The crowd starts singing the chorus in unison as out from the curtain emerges O'Malley, kendo stick in his left hand and vodka bottle in his right. O'Malley has come dressed for battle, wearing a sleeveless white T-Shirt, with the logo "Freedom of Choice" on the front in red and "Drink or Fight" written in red on the back. The shirt makes his pea green colored trunks stick out like a sore thumb.] "Dizzy, drunk and fightin' On tequila white lightnin' My glass is getting shorter On whiskey, ice and water So come on and have a good time And get blinded out of your mind" [O'Malley starts heading down the aisle, and gives high fives to the fans on both sides of the aisle. With a huge smile on his face, Anthony crosses the aisle to touch hands with all his frenetic fans, hugging on the ladies and pointing at the faraway fans he can't touch as the loving crowd waves back!] "So don't worry about tomorrow Take it today Forget about the cheque We'll get hell to pay Have a drink on me (Get stoned)" [Anthony reaches ringside and kneeing up to the side, hangs back off the top and jumps right over the ropes and into the ring! He immediately runs over to the nearest turnbuckle and climbs up top! Throwing up his hands, he looks out across the cheering crowds as lightning sizzles in the air, the audience now electrified themselves!!] "Gonna roll around Gonna hit the ground Take another swing Have another drink Gonna drink it dry Gonna get me high Come on all the boys Make a noise!" Stone: LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, NOW IN THE RING... FROM BROOKLYN NEW YORK, WEIGHING IN AT 443 POUNDS, ANTHONY AND MARCUS.... THE O'MALLEY BROTHERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [FANS CHEERING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [The camera pans around the arena. The fans are on their feet, going nuts, hoisting signs in the air, and such. The house lights stay down as there is silence...Then a boisterous German voice, the voice of Till Lindemann, echoes across the PA system.] "Einz... Zwei... Drei... Vier... Funf... Sechs... Sieben... Acht... Neun... Aus" ****BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!**** [A massive burst of pyro hits the stage as the instruments come in at a heavy industrial blast. We see a cloud of smoke on the SPWTron. The camera pans back, and we see that the cloud of smoke is being exhaled by two red dragons, facing one another, on a black backdrop. As each of the lines are spoken, small flames begin to appear, flanking the rampway. They grow, as the verse reaches its end] "Alle warten auf das Licht Furchtet euch... furchtet euch nicht Die Sonne scheint mir aus den Augen Sie wird heut Nacht nicht untergehen Und die Welt zahlt laut bis zehn" [The drums roll, and out steps "Sadistic" Steve Liermann, flanked by the flames. Liermann is wearing a red-colored leather trenchcoat, a plain black T-Shirt, traditional long black tights trimmed in red tribal designs and matching boots. He tops it off with a pair of sunglasses. The dark haired Liermann stands atop the rampway, with his barbed wire baseball bat held above his head. Kasady is wearing a black, silver and blue mask, with long dread locks on the back and side. He has similar matching tights, his right arm is heavily taped up where- as his other arm has a heavy gauntlet with some long metallic finger nails. Kasady pops up and as soon as he lands on his feet...] [MASSIVE HEEL POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] "Eins... Hier kommt die Sonne Zwei... Hier kommt die Sonne Drei... Sie ist der hellste Stern von allen Vier... Hier kommt die Sonne" [Liermann begins to saunter down the rampway with barbed wire bat in tow. Liermann is being booed out of the building, yet the jeers are not even fazing him. He stays focused, looking toward the ring, walking at a determined, yet assured pace. He reaches the ring area and climbs the stairs, looking briefly around the arena, shaking his head in utter disgust] ************BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!**************** [The stage lights up with a flash of pyro. Kasady starts to slowly walk down to the ring, head almost mechanically moving back and forth looking around at the crowd. He looks into the ring and breaks into a run. He jumps around the ring, his hood flying off his head as he runs. He slides onto the apron. Kasady enters the ring and takes off his jacket. He waves at his opponent with his gauntlet hand. Kasady takes the gauntlet off and tosses it outside the ring. He backs into the corner and squats down, bobbing his head back and forth waiting for the bell to ring.] "Die Sonne scheint mir aus den Handen Kann verbrennen, kann euch blenden Wenn sie aus den Fausten bricht Legt sich heil auf das Gesicht Sie wird heut Nacht nicht untergehen Und die Welt zahlt laut bis zehn" [Liermann enters the ring underneath the top rope. He stands in the center of the ring, and hoists his barbed wire bat high, as the words "Eins... Hier kommt die Sonne" are uttered. He ascends the near left turnbuckles, standing on the bottom turnbuckle. Liermann is getting showered with debris and being used for target practice. The assembled crowd is failing miserably. He hoists his bat high and we see him saying some pleasantries to someone out in the crowd. Liermann repeats the process three more times.] "Eins... Hier kommt die Sonne Zwei... Hier kommt die Sonne Drei... Sie ist der hellste Stern von allen Vier... Hier kommt die Sonne Funf... Hier kommt die Sonne Sechs... Hier kommt die Sonne Sieben... Sie ist der hellste Stern von allen Acht, neun... Hier kommt die Sonne" [The song fades out, as Liermann is standing in the center of the ring yet again...] Stone: AND THEIR OPPONENTS, AT A COMBINED WEIGHT OF THEY ARE 475 POUNDS, THEY ARE SADISTIC!!!!! STEVE!!! LLLLLLIIIIIIIIEEEEEERRRRRRMMMMAAAAAAANNNNN!!!!!!!! AAANND KAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSAAAAAAAADY!!!!!! THEY ARE THE BLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK MAAAAAAAAAAASS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [MASSIVE HEEL POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [The lights in the arena darken.] "Puss pussy (Control man) (Here come the drums)" [Cue: "Pussy Control" by Prince] "Uh, yeah Uh" [A diamond shaped spotlight in a deep purple hue shines on the entrance....] "Good mornin' ladies and gentlemen Boys and motherfuckin' girls This is your captain with no name speakin' And I'm here 2 rock your world" [The crowd stares at the smiling Shane Diamond, and he stares back into the sea of fans and grins widely before bursting out in his hyena-like laugh. The crowd breaks out into a huge pop! Out next strides a gorgeously muscular woman, his wife Miss Jasmine. She wears leather capris and a light purple halter with "The Crowning Jewel" written across the front in purple jewels. She dons black wrestling boots with "MJ" scripted on the side and purple kneepads. Both receive a hellacious face pop and they raise their hands as fire blazes up!!!] [CROWD ROARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] "With a tale that will soon be classic About a woman U already know No prostitute she, but the mayor of your brain Pussy Control" [The fire slowly fades to nothing as from out of the cinders steps the one and only Owen Cage himself, in a snazzy new blue neon tights with his first name airbrushed up and down his legs. His blonde hair is long and grown out, brown streaks in it as he wipes it back from behind dark black Fendi shades, a familiar looking black forearm guard strapped to his right wrist. The Diamond wears a flashy, purple robe that is decorated with diamonds and feathers with "Diamond" written across the back. Team EGO begin walking toward the ring] "Aaah, Pussy Control, oh Pussy, Pussy, Pussy, Pussy Control Aaah, Pussy Control, oh Pussy, Pussy, Pussy, Pussy Control" [The Diamond struts up the stairs and stands on the ring apron. He points to a fan holding his water bottle high in the front row. Jasmine knees up and ducks inside, stepping up to clap her hands as Shane raises up his arms once again. Owen Cage steps up to the top rope, looking out across the Sports Arena!!] "And the moral of this motherfucker is Ladies, make'em act like they know U are, was, and always will be Pussy Control" [Diamond walks to the center where the diamond spotlight follows him. Diamond laughs yet again as he takes off his robe. Under the robe Diamond wears full length wrestling tights with "Diamond" written down both sides in silver. He finishes off his attire with black wrestling boots and black elbow pads. Shane smiles as he waits to be properly introduced. Owen laughs and leaning over the side, points at the fans telling them all who the World Tag Champions are.] "Aaah, Pussy Control, oh Pussy, Pussy, Pussy, Pussy Control" Stone: ACCOMPANIED TO THE RING BY MISS JASMINE, AT A COMBINED WEIGHT OF 439 POUNDS THEY ARE SHANE DIAMOND AND OWEN CAGE, THEY ARE TEEEEEEEAAAAAAAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! EEEEEEEEEEEGOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [CROWD POPS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [The lights suddenly go out. Silence. Darkness. And then, spotlights: illuminating the arena with a greenish hue, hovering all around before converging on a single point near the entrance aisle. A droning sound is heard] "We've always been this to feel all this pain! We've always been this to feel all this pain!" "VVVWOOOOSSSHHH!!!!" [And Colt Montana goes halfway up through the bottom of the stage, but the elevator doesn't go all the way and he has to climb up over the side to get up onto the metal platform! The fans pop as Montana stands in a fringed Deadbeats poncho, and turning sideways, begins to strut down the ramp clenching his fingers as red and green spotlights circle and flash overhead! A mysterious coffin emerges from a pit located beneath the entrance aisle, rising upwards from beneath the depths of the stage! Greenish lights from the projectors glance off from the polished finish of the coffin as the camera does a close- up. Smoke seeps from the dark pit, enveloping the sinister casket with a greenish haze as the light reflects from it. Then the sound melds into a familiar tone...] *BOOOOOOOOOH!* *BOOOOOOOOOH!* ["What's up People", the second opening to Deathnote rings in as SPOOKY DOOM bursts right out of the coffin, spazzing away to the gibbering music! Grim Avenger of Lucha Libre, 5' 7" muscular luchador with the must-buy DOOM ROCKS T-shirt!! White hood over the sinister mask, flaming skeleton pants showing up on TV: Spooky Doom going by the fans as he rocks away, devil horns in the air!] [HUGE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] "Benribenri banzai benribenri banzai Benribenri banzai ningen Benribenri banzai benribenri banzai Benribenri banzai ningen" [PYROS! THUNDER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] "What's up fuanzai ippai Hanzai kienai towani What's up fuanzai ippai" [Heading across the aisle, Colt slaps hands with the fans and gets pulled nearly into the stands by a giant enthusiastic woman! Hey, there's ALWAYS ONE! Anyhow Colt does his best to escape her gravitational pull as he slides back down and now sweating in fear, creeps to the other side and goes to high five a bunch of kids who probably can't eat him. Montana turns around heading towards the ring, fist in the air as he struts and slides from foot to foot, hitting the edge of the ring and twisting to roll right inside, popping up as he does his shaky fist clenching dance from side to side!! The camera finds a few kids wearing Spooky Doom masks: Spooky Doom slapping the occasional hand as he makes his way towards the ring. Climbing the ring steps, he still manages to fly past the top rope and into the ring, striking a ~SPOOKY~ pose as he lands! If nothing else, he's got style, and style impresses.] Stone: FROM DEATH VALLEY CALIFORNIA BY WAY OF TIJUANA, AT A COMBINED WEIGHT OF 412 POUNDS! THIS IS THE UNDEAD SUPERSTAR... SPOOKY! DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMM!!!!!!!!!! AND THE UNION JEFE.... COLT! MONTANA!!!!!! THEY ARE THE DEEEAAAADBEEEATS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [FANS CHEER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: The World Tag Team Title Belts, all eight of them hanging from above the ring as the World Tag Superstars at each corner of the ring. To be quick, if both belts are taken off the hooks then this match is over. We have a Referee outside the ring, and a Referee inside the ring, four men only in the fight at the same time, tag rules strictly enforced- well at least to the abilities of our expert Officials. When the final bell rings we will have one pair of Indisputed World Tag Team Champions. Now we take you up to the ring and to Steve Stone for match introductions. Sean: Owen Cage, Anthony O'Malley, Kasady, Spooky Doom in the ring. [Anthony locks up with Cage, Kasady with Spooky and Spooky and O'Malley spin to send Cage and Kasady at the ropes!! Anthony takes flight with the standing dropkick to blast Cage over as Spooky Doom leaps to hurricanrana Kasady through the air!! The fans cheer out as Kasady rolls away and Anthony and Spooky take Owen Cage up, each grabbing a wrist and leg, pulling the man high into the air and bring him down hard with double backbreaker to monstrous applause!!] [FANS CHEER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: OH HA HA THAT HAD TO HURT! Owen Cage kicking in a circle as he lays on the canvas! Kasady getting up and Spooky Doom and Anthony O'Malley DOUBLE SUPERKICK HIS FACE OFF!!! ****CRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!!!!!!!**** [HUGE FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: Anthony taking Kasady up and running him into the turnbuckles- Spooky Doom to take up Owen Cage! Kick to the stomach and suplexes the man high into the air!! Spooky Doom hauling him over his shoulders to pull the man over his shoulders!! Torture Rack on Owen Cage!! And now Spooky Doom spinning around!! [The fans begin to cheer as Doom spins round and round, round and round as Owen is yelling out, waving frantically for Shane! Spooky takes Cage into the air to catch him and leaps to his knees to spike the Towerhacker Bomb!! Owen Cage spins around on his spine as the fans scream out!!!] [CROWD CHEERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: SHANE DIAMOND LEAPING IN!! Sean: Diamond charging in and Colt Montana leaping this is not a trios match! Spooky turning and hiptossing Colt right over who catches Shane by the head and scissors him into a flip! [FANS ROAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jim: Yeah there's no way a Ref has control in this match! [Steve Liermann gets inside cursing and rushes to cheapshot Anthony O'Malley who is pummeling Kasady in the corner! Marcus O'Malley jumps right in and spinning Liermann around, smacks the punch right up into the face! Marcus rocks Steve's jaw and turning yells as he tosses Liermann clear over the top rope!!] Jack: OHH!! And Liermann sent for the ride!! Wait! Kasady with Marcus and irish whip to send O'Malley racing across the ring!! Jim: Owen Cage up and BACKDROPS TO SEND MARCUS FLYING OVER THE SIDE!!! [FANS CHEER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: SPOOKY DOOM GRABBING OWEN'S WRIST AND SENDS HIM CHARGING AT THE SIDE! Jim: KASADY PULLING DOWN THE ROPES AND OWEN GOES RIGHT OVER THE SIDE!! Jack: SHANE DIAMOND CHEAPSHOTTING COLT MONTANA FROM BEHIND! AND RUNS THE UNION JEFE OVER THE SIDE NO COLT LANDS ON HIS FEET!! Sean: SAVATE THRUST KICK FROM SHANE DIAMOND NAILS COLT! SENDING THE BOSS DOWN TO THE FLOOR OF THE SPORTS ARENA!! [Kasady hops, and races across the ring past Shane Diamond who crashes into the ropes, Spooky Doom charges the side but ducks as Anthony O'Malley leapfrogs right over top, both continuing to cross corner! Kasady flies clear over the side to take out Marcus O'Malley with the somersault body attack, Spooky Doom catches the ropes to flip himself over the ringpost to take out Steve Liermann with a Tope Con Hilo!! Anthony O'Malley jumps off the cable and leaps into a flying Shooting Star Press to take out Owen Cage right as Shane Diamond flies over the side to soar and crash into Colt Montana with the suicide dive!!] [MONSTROUS FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jim: YOU GOTTA BE KIDDING ME!!!! Jack: ALL HELL HAS BROKEN LOOSE AND THE TAGS CLEAR THE ENTIRE RING!!!!! [FANS CHEERING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] "SPW!!!!!" "SPW!!!!!" "SPW!!!!!" "SPW!!!!!" "SPW!!!!!" "SPW!!!!!" !" Sean: Words can't describe all of what we just saw... wrestling fans it appears these tags are willing to put everything on the line as they are going for it and Shane Diamond up, heading past ringside as he just took his boss the Union Jefe out. Now heading for the ladder and snapping it up, going to the ring and sliding it in! Team EGO looking to put the Deadbeats out!! [Miss Jasmine helps Shane as both enter the ring, setting the ladder up and Diamond goes right to the top!! Spooky Doom sits up at ringside as the fans cheer out!! Owen Cage crawls over as Kasady climbs into the ring and Jasmine charges to clothesline him! Kasady ducks her and as Shane goes for the Mexican version of the World Tag Team belts, Kasady leaps to crash his shoulder right into the ladder!!] ***CRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSSHHHH!!!!**** [FANS SCREAMING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: THE LADDER TAKEN OVER! BUT SHANE DIAMOND HANGING ON!! Sean: Anthony O'Malley goes to crawl in but Owen Cage has his foot! Marcus O'Malley smashes into Owen from behind!! The fans are cheering as The O'Malleys surround Owen Cage and begin slamming fists into one half of Team EGO!! [CROWD ROARING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: Shane DIAMOND hanging above the ring!! And he has one of the Mexican World Tag belts- and throws it down!! [MONSTER HEEL POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: The O'Malleys holding Owen Cage as the other punches into him!! And one more belt and The Deadbeats are outta this matchup! [Spooky Doom leaps to the apron with a single bound, and Steve Liermann climbs inside. Kasady is up and jumps to hang onto Shane's legs, trying to pull him down before he can eliminate the Black Mass World Championship tag belts, Kasady hanging as Shane yells out! Miss Jasmine slams the apron on the outside as Spooky Doom runs over Liermann with a charging clothesline!] [FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: SPOOKY DOOM SOCKING INTO KASADY!! DOOM BEATING DOWN LIERMANN! SPOOKY A HOUSE EN FUEGO WAIT! Sean: SHANE SEES THE O'MALLEYS TRASHING HIS PARTNER! [Diamond reaches up and finding The O'Malley's world tag title belts, begins to pull at them! The fans are roaring out as Marcus sends Owen into the railing chest first, and then locks his hands as Anthony leaps and crashes into Cage with the leg lariat to the upper back!!] Jack: DIAMOND HAS ONE OF THE O'MALLEY BROS BELTS FREE!! AND THROWS IT DOWN! Sean: SHANE GOING FOR THE OTHER!!! [Spooky Doom ducks a Kasady Yakuza Kick, and locking the head and leg, bridges to send Kasady over his head with a monster Leg Capture Suplex!! Steve Liermann takes advantage to crash Doom over from behind! Shane Diamond reaches up, and pulling himself higher, screams and grabs the second O'Malley Bros. title belt and rips it away, dropping it down!!] ****DINGDINGDINGDINGDINGDING!!!!**** Stone: LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!! THE O'MALLEY BROTHERS HAVE BEEN ELIMINATED!!! [CROWD BOOING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jim: JUST LIKE THAT! AND STEVE LIERMANN WITH THE LEGS OF SHANE DIAMOND! AND DIAMOND YELLING OUT!! Sean: Yeah keep him away from your titles! The Diamond just singlehandedly sent both O'Malleys home to the locker rooms, Road Agents forcing them to the back!! Owen Cage is down but DIAMOND DROPS AND LANDING ON LIERMANN'S HEAD!! STEVE WITH SHANE ON HIS SHOULDERS!! [Shane yells out and diving forward, takes Liermann over with the Victory Rol!! He comes up laughing out, the pin held on!] ****CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!!!!!**** Jack: RIGHT INTO A KASADY KICK TO THE FACE!! Sean: Well Kasady and Liermann functioning as a team, remember for all their personal wars as of late, Steve practically trained Gabriel Van Zahn, Kasady's alter ego, back in the IGA! Jim: As part of Die Ubermenschenn, right! And Kasady knows his mentor like no one else, I'll say it even if Kasady doesn't agree, joining The Black Mass might be the best career move he ever made! Jack: Well they are strong if not necessarily a hundred percent unified. Sean: Spooky Doom back up and Colt Montana to the apron, one of their title belts have been eliminated meaning one more to go and The Deadbeats are down and out of this match, they can hit the showers their world tag aspirations are over. Both know this and Spooky now joining partner Colt on the apron, what's this!? [Doom yells as Colt rolls his arm and Kasady and Liermann drag Shane Diamond up, hooking him for the double team suplex!! They wrench Shane up into the air and hold him high as Spooky yells to Colt and both The Deadbeats springboard into the air!! Flying through they each grab a leg and land jamming the Monster Double Team Elevated Spike PILEDRIVER!!!!!] ****WWWHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMM!!!!!**** [CROWD SCREAMS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: MY GOD MAN! AND SHANE DIAMOND MIGHT BE DEAD!!! Jim: HA HO HOLY GOD THEY DAMN NEAR PUT HIS HEAD THROUGH THE MAT!!! Jack: BEWARE THE WORLD TAG DIVISION! ABANDON ALL HOPE YE WHO ENTER HERE!!! [Shane Diamond lays on the mat, leg twitching and kicking as Miss Jasmine looks horrified at ringside, hands covering her mouth. The Deadbeats have already started brawling with The Black Mass!! Kasady is being beaten back by Spooky Doom as Colt Montana sends Steve Liermann for the ride, Liermann reverses to send Colt into the cables, but Montana leaps twisting backwards to land the reverse bodyscissors, kipping up and kicking out to slam the bulldog!! Spooky Doom whips Kasady to the ropes and catching the man whips him over with a powerslam, straight into the ladder!!!!] ***CRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSHHHHHHH!!!!*** Jack: MY GOODNESS AND KASADY IN PAIN!! Sean: SERIOUS PAIN! AND SPOOKY DOOM LOOKING TO PEEL KASADY OFF THE LADDER AND USE IT TO PUT HIS OPPONENTS AWAY! DOOM WANTS TO BE THE WORLD TAG TEAM CHAMP!! HE WANTS HIS FIRST TASTE OF SPW GOLD! Jim: Colt Montana now -OWEN CAGE SPINS HIM AROUND! Jack: CKUTTA! CKUTTA! CKUTTA ON COLT MONTANA! [CROWD ROARING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: Owen Cage outta nowhere with the C-Kutta and now heading over, as Spooky takes up that ladder- and Cage to the air slams out the flying Dropkick right into the ladder to smash it into Doom's face!! [FANS POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: And Spooky sent into the ropes, ladder still in hand! Owen Cage with Steve Liermann's head up, wraps the head and jumps into the air for the CODEBREAKER!! NO!! LIERMANN COUNTERS WITH THE SIT DOWN POWERBOMB!!! [Liermann stands up and taking the legs over, steps through and sits down latching in the Scorpion Deathlock! Kasady rises shaking, charging the near side and coming off to slam the baseball slide right into the side Owen Cage's head!!] ****CRRAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!!!!**** Jack: OHHH!! Cage's head nearly knocked clear off! SPOOKY DOOM WITH THE LADDER! [Doom goes spinning around with the ladder on his shoulders, sending the end right into Steve Liermann's head!! Liermann hits the canvas as Kasady gets up and Spooky spins around to send the ladder into the back of Kasady's head!! He turns it upside down and drives the top of the ladder right down into Owen Cage's guts!!!] [MONSTER FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: And now setting the ladder up ON TOP OF OWEN CAGE! CAGE PINNED UNDERNEATH THE LOWER STEPS!! Jim: HA HA! Spooky DOOM climbing up top, looking to the hook hanging high above as he climbs hand over hand, up the rung and it's clear, he's going for the Original version of the World Tag Team Titles, he has one and YES HE PULLS IT DOWN!! [CROWD ROARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: ONE MORE AND TEAM EGO ARE OUTTA HERE!! [The fans in San Diego are cheering the frenetic and crazy action, as Spooky Doom goes to reach for one of the Black Mass titles, and Colt Montana rises up as Owen Cage fights and struggles to get free and out from under the ladder itself! Colt goes over to Kasady, taking him up and slams the forearm to send Kasady back into the corner. Heading over, Colt begins to smash the man but Kasady grabs his throat and spits Blue Mist right in Colt's face!!!] ***FFFWWWWOOOOOOOOOOOOSHHH!!!!**** [MONSTER CROWD POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: BLUE MIST TO THE FACE OF COLT MONTANA!! AND RIGHT IN THE EYES!! Jim: TALK ABOUT PAYING YOUR UNION DUES!! AND KASADY WITH THE MASK- LAUNCHING COLT RIGHT OVER THE SIDE!!! [FANS ROAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: Spooky Doom with one of The Black Mass titles! And throws it down!! Jack: ONE MORE AND THE MASS IT OUTTA HERE!!!! [Steve Liermann sits up as his own belt landed on his chest! Crawling over, he hooks it as Kasady charges and leaps to stand on the ladder, climbing up to beat on Spooky Doom! Doom kicks Kasady, but the masked man holds his leg, and Doom tries to kick him down, as Steve Liermann begins to come up the other side!! The fans are roaring as Doom finally kicks Kasady away- and turns as Liermann BLASTS him with the Black Mass Title Belt!!!] [MONSTER HEEL POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: LIERMANN - AND DOOM FLIES OFF THE LADDER!! HE IS DOWN!! Sean: AND STEVE LIERMANN LOOKING TO RE-ATTACH HIS WORLD TAG TEAM TITLE TO THE HOOK! CAN HE DO THAT!? Jim: Oh so smart! Resistence ech Verbelike! Sean: Okay that wasn't even close. Jim: I don't speak Borg!! Jack: Heh- God I missed this fed, and now Liermann looking to try as he might to rehang his version of the World Tag Team Titles, those belts formally belonging to The Hype in case anyone wondering why Liermann's title has a neon pink leather encasing. [Liermann raises the belt, trying to wrap it up as Kasady takes up Colt Montana and hits the Reverse Swinging STO!! The fans pop as Colt rolls over and Kasady climbs the ladder, Liermann putting their belt back on the hook! Kasady climbs high and reaching out grabs the title belt from Steve and smashes his partner across the face!!!!] [CROWD SCREAMS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: WHAT THE HELL! KASADY ATTACKING LIERMANN! AND HE HIT HIM! LIERMANN HANGING ON- Sean: KASADY RIPPING DOWN THE OTHER BLACK MASS TITLE! AND NAILING STEVE TO ELIMINATE THEM BOTH FROM THE 8 BELT LADDER MATCH!!!! [MONSTER FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: LIERMANN HITS THE CANVAS! AND HE IS OUT!! KASADY JUST COST HIS OWN TEAM THE WORLD TAG TEAM TITLE BELTS!!! [CROWD ROARING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [Liermann is down and unconscious as the fans are cheering out! Kasady raises the World Tag Team Title high and drops it down to the mat! Raising up a shaking arm, he yells out and climbs down as Owen Cage finally shoves the ladder over! Kasady steps over Liermann, dropping down to shout in his face as he raises up the World Tag Team Title and standing up, tosses it down on Steve's chest] Stone: THE BLACK MASS HAVE BEEN ELIMINATED!!!!!!!!!!!! [CROWD CHEERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: Kasady walking away leaving the ring, and heading over the railing!? Well he's a dead man walking if and when his fellow stablemates ever catch up to him- Kasady departing through the crowd!! Jim: As he may want to switch masks too. He may want to change names and drop into the witness protection program as well, you just don't do what Kasady just did! I can't believe the nerve of this man, this Superstar is truly insane!! Sean: And now the two remaining teams, two of the very best in SPW are left. The Deadbeats who have sent that ladder to the corner, setting it up as Shane Diamond crawling back in, still hurting as Spooky and Colt have him by the arms!! [The Deadbeats pull and send Shane Diamond running right into the ladder!! He smashes hard, laying against the side as The Deadbeats pull Owen Cage up and send him charging next! Shane slides down the ladder and Cage leaps to run UP the ladder, moonsaulting off to crashland into both Doom and Montana, taking them down!!] [CROWD CHEERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: And Team EGO showing new signs of life!! Jim: Well Cage wasn't hurt, just trapped there!! Shane Diamond is the one who's one blue hang sign away from a handicapped parking space. Owen Cage has got to win the match for his team! Sean: Spooky Doom up and CAGE Plows him over with the clothesline! Colt Montana to his feet, Cage with the irish whip at the corner- COLT slings himself right around as Cage giving chase and COLT FLYING BACK INSIDE, KICKS CAGE IN THE STOMACH!! "OOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Jack: Colt Montana to the apron and looking for the slingshot!! Jim: Shane DIAMOND ON THE APRON!! [Diamond runs the apron to grab Colt Montana and flipping upside down throws out his legs to Sunset Powerbomb Colt Montana straight into the concrete floor!!!!!] [CROWD ROARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: OH MY GOD!!! Jim: And Owen Cage staggering up! Spooky Doom shouting out!! Cage turning around and Doom catches him right over his shoulders! [Spooky Doom looks straight out, holding Owen Cage and yells as he jumps into the air but Cage kicks off and lands the Tornado DDT!!] [HUGE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: CAGE HAD THE DEATH VALLEY DRIVER SCOUTED! AND SLAMMING HIS FOREARM GUARD, WRAPPING THE CAGELOCK IN! FOREARM GUARD IN THE MOUTH!! CAGE HOLDING DOOM HOSTAGE, IN THE AIR AND THROWS HIM OVERHEAD FOR THE SUPLEX!! Jack: DOOM LANDS ON HIS FEET! CAGE SPUN AROUND! SPOOKY WITH THE TOE KICK AND DUCKING TO HAUL OWEN OVER HIS SHOULDER! LOCKS THE HEAD AND SITS DOWN CRYPT- ONITE CRUNNNNCCHHH!!!! [MONSTER FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [Spooky Doom shouts out! And pulling his arms in, Doom works the cheering crowds before heading to the ladder once again. Taking it up out of the corner- Doom drags it to the center and opens it up!! Climbing up, Spooky Doom goes arm over arm until Shane Diamond slides in on the far side, heading up to go hand over fist towards the very top! Shane goes up the side as Spooky Doom reaches for the last remaining Team EGO World Tag Team Belt- and Diamond climbs up to sock the punch in Spooky's face!!] [CROWD ROARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: SHANE DIAMOND WITH A HARD RIGHT HAND! AND -AND SPOOKY DOOM! HE ANSWERS BACK!! Jim: WHOAAA! DIAMOND ALMOST FELL OFF THE LADDER! HE DOES THIS IS IT!!! Sean: DIAMOND HITTING BACK AS HARD AS HE CAN!! AND DOOM HURTING!! Jack: SPOOKY DOOM NEARLY FELL! BUT COMES BACK SMASHING THE FIST!! Sean: DIAMOND STUNNED AND DOOM WITH THE ARM AND HEAD, HOLY -SPOOKY DOOM SUPLEXING SHANE DIAMOND UP INTO THE AIR!!! [The fans in San Diego roar out at the top of their lungs as Spooky Doom holds Shane Diamond high for the gigantic elevated suplex!! Shane is waving and shouting as Owen Cage shoves up and charging- shoves the ladder as hard as he can!! The ladder falls over and Shane hangs on to the hook as Spooky Doom hits the ropes and crashes off to smash into the railing, taking the whole thing over as the fans try and catch it!!!] ****CRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSSSHHHHHHH!!!!!!**** Jack: SPOOKY DOOM CRASHING ALL THE WAY DOWN INTO THE RAILING! AND SHANE DIAMOND UPSIDE DOWN!! [Diamond grabs the last of the Deadbeat's World Tag Team Championship belts and pulls it off to drop it down to the mat! Owen Cage throws his arm as the fans scream out!!] [MONSTROUS FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Stone: AND YOUR WINNERS! AND NEWWWWWW TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS OF THE WORLD!!! SHANE DIAMOND! OWEN CAGE!! TEEEEEEEAAAAAAMMMM!!!!! Crowd: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEGGGGGOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [CROWD CHEERING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: TEAM EGO ARE YOUR NEW WORLD TAG TEAM CHAMPS! FOR A SECOND TIME THEY ARE ABLE TO WIN THE TITLES AND SPOOKY DOOM- HE MAY NEED SERIOUS MEDICAL ATTENTION!! Jim: CAGE AND DIAMOND WIN THE BELTS!! TEAM EGO REIGN SUPREME!!! ["Pussy Control" kicks up over the PA System as Miss Jasmine holds out her arms and Shane Diamond drops to be caught by her and Cage, taking them all down as in his hands are the Original World Tag Team Title Belts!! The fans cheer out as Shane gets up, the Referee coming into the ring carrying all the other five belts as well, as Cage gets up with the Mexican title belt in hand. Team EGO collecting all the World Tag Team Title Belts, raise them up overhead as fireworks boom out across the San Diego Sports Arena!!!] ****BBBBOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!!!!!!!!****** ****BBBBOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!!!!!!!!****** ****BBBBOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!!!!!!!!****** ****BBBBOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!!!!!!!!****** ****BBBBOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!!!!!!!!****** [FANS CHEER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: TEAM EGO STAND TALL IN THE WORLD TAG TEAM DIVISION AND NOW LOOK TO CHALLENGE ANY TAG TEAM IN THE ENTIRE INDUSTRY TO COME AND TAKE THEIR EIGHT TITLE BELTS FROM OFF THEIR SHOULDERS!! [Fade to the broadcast booth, the fans cheering in the background] Jim: They aren't seriously going to carry around all eight title belts are they? Sean: I don't think the words SERIOUS and Team EGO apply in the same sentence. Talk about a win, now sharing the titles as they hold them out to their newfound fans, Diamond and Cage overjoyed with their second World Tag Team Title reign, I have to say they all fought really hard and I'm looking forward to seeing who their first title defense will be against. Finally and once again the Indisputed Tag Team Champions of the World, Shane Diamond, Owen Cage, Team EGO. Really well done, what a fight!! Jack: The night belongs to them and that's proof positive you can succeed by shedding your ties with people like the Invaders, Diamond and Cage have skyrocketed to supremacy since abandoning their relations with that group. They've since paid for their sins and come a long way, but they are yes folks, right here at Iconoclasm this day your NEW World Tag Team Champions. Sean: And the fans love them for it this time around! Well that's a great positive thing so far this night. And another one ladies and gentlemen the LEGENDS DEALS are about to be announced, as Kieran Rae on her way out here to announce the new Veterans who will be doing yeoman's work, as goodwill ambassadors for Shootfire Pro... let's take you now to a special presentation as the CEO of SPW is standing by!! _____________________________________________________________________________ |_____________________________________________________________________________| |__ICONOCLASM_________________________________________________________________| [Fade up to the stage as Kieran Rae is standing by with a table in a blue cloth, platinum and crystal plaques lined up, five of them to be exact as the SPW CEO stands to its left, at a giant podium. Serena Black stands to her right, dressed in a black Givenchy evening gown and glowing as she stands by the crystal. Wearing a grey Escade powersuit, her auburn hair sleek and styled Kieran stares out as the fans cheer. The CEO stands nodding, and holds up a hand to silence the audience, waiting politely for them to pay attention.] Kieran: ...Ladies and Gentlemen. Shootfire Pro Wrestling is proud to take its position in the history of this great industry. Truly, the Sport of Kings is a noble concept dedicated to the very best of modern day gladiators competing for the top prizes in all of sports and entertainment. And we take pride here in SPW in enlightening our Superstars and future legends by installing in them a great respect for the craft itself. The best way to do that, to mirror the progress of the ascension of our talented professional wrestlers, is by making sure they have all the tools and knowledge they would ever need to acheive each and every one of their goals. So we have sought out some of the greatest minds in the wrestling business, the first five Legends Deals we will sign here tonight, to not only represent SPW to the world at large, but to instruct and guide our talented wrestlers to truly become Superstars of Tomorrow. So please allow me to introduce... First. Multi time Tag Team championship winners, Brothers in Arms Trophy winner, Two time winner of the Mark Adams Cup, Grand Prix Heritage Tag Team Champion, and Rumble Pro Heavyweight Champion of the World, and Gold Medal Winner of the prestigious 12 Days Tourney, he is here because he is a true locker room leader, a respected veteran and beloved competitor throughout this industry. Ladies and Gentlemen... Jason Van Wilder aka VAN WILD. [MONSTROUS FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [A single, long drawn-out note echoes around the arena, sending a ripple of anticipation through the crowd. The fans stand and look to the entrance as the intro to "Wild Thing"¨ kicks in over the speakers! The audience in San Diego cheers as from out of the back, his blonde hair hanging low, in a dark brown Burberry suit, walks the veteran himself. Serena hands him his plaque and he smiles wide, thanking her as he goes to the right of the stage. San Diego cheers for him and Van Wild nods, holding out an arm to thank them all...] Sean: And a greater class act you could not find. While his tag team partner has since walked the downward spiral to career hell, Van Wild has always been a conscientous, respectful and sincere in-ring performer and there is not one athlete in the locker room that doesn't appreciate who he is and what he's done for our business. A man I am proud to call my friend, Van Wild it's great to see him announced as our first legends deal. [Kieran smiles warmly, for the first time in awhile] Second. Shootfire Pro Wrestling was built in 1999 and one of the men whose shoulders it was built on... is none other than a man I know more than anyone does. Picked out of obscurity as a wrestler known as Static and feuding with Hall of Famer Jasy O'Neil as Palmer's bodyguard, this man has since went on to become the First ever GRAND SLAM CHAMPION, winning the Platinum, Diamond, World Tag and Two Time World Heavyweight Champion. He is a Hall of Famer himself, and he became the Cruiserweight Icon, and the Innovator of Iconoclasm... he is none other than James Robert Crowe III... ladies and gentlemen... [CROWD ROARING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Kieran: PLEASE WELCOME! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSHHH!!!!!!! [EARTH SHATTERING FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [The camera goes to the archway as AsH is standing there in his white "iCON" T-Shirt a sideways smirk on his face. Hands in his pockets, AsH stands staring out across the arena as San Diego roars for the Cruiserweight Icon!! The camera zooms up the ramp to focus in as AsH can't help but smile as the fans in the Sports Arena stand up!! Van Wild is clapping as AsH moves to shake hands with Serena, taking his plaque and looking at it, moves towards Kieran as she is extremely happy to see him. AsH shakes his head, running his mouth and turns out to raise a fist up in the air!!] [MONSTER FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: ASH back in Shootfire Pro Wrestling after how many years!? How many!! AsH taking up his Plaque and rightfully so, this is a great night for SPW! AsH signing his Legends Deal, and standing up on stage remember wrestling fans, he created Iconoclasm! A fitting return as one of the founding fathers of SPW standing tall on our polished steel stage... this is something I had never expected to see but I am damn glad to be here to see it!! [Kieran is clearly enjoying herself as she smiles to her husband. Turning back, the side of her mouth twitches and she prepares to announce the next Legends Deal to sign with SPW...] Third. When you think of Wrestling Legends in this business controversy is king. Joining the stage to be announced with his fellow Superstars, is one of the most notorious, one of the biggest self-promoters in the history of Pro Wrestling. He is a five time UEW Ultimate champion, winning the UWF TV Championship in his first month in the league, MOTR Tournament Winner, a DWO Champion, he made the Top 5 in the RSPWF 2001 and 1999, and voted the Number One Wrestler in the sport in 2000... ladies and gentlemen the man that needs no introduction... THE TOP DOG.... RICK! STYLES!!!!!!!!!!!! [CROWD ROARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: RICK STYLES!!! The last time we saw him he was pretending to be our CEO! The man responsible for countless crimes perpetrated AGAINST SPW and now signed as our Legends Deal!? While I know the caliber of reputation and accolades you can't deny- The Top Dog our final legends deal this, this is amazing. [From out of the back, in his Hawaiian shirt and whistful smile, with palm trees and coconuts decorating the front, the tanned and retired veteran swaggers out of the back, hands in pockets, in his cargo shorts and flip flops. A sunhat covering his unkempt hair, The Top Dog laughs with open mouth, flashing his shiny white teeth as he makes his way out on stage. He takes Serena's hand and kisses it as she blushes, handing him over his crystal plaque. Rick Styles heads over to shake hands with Kieran Rae as she smiles through gritted teeth.] [CROWD CHEERING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: A true veteran and accomplished wrestler, what will Rick Styles bring to SPW that he already hasn't before? A notable book author as well as publisher, Styles has every reason to retire and step away from the spotlight but no, in fact he signed with Shootfire Pro as a Legends Deal and now, now we all wait and see what he has planned for this new generation here in SPW. Wow, and as a goodwill ambassador for SPW, I can't even imagine Styles doing anything other than promoting himself. This, this should be interesting. Kieran: Fourth. Once known as the Best Wrestler to have never been World Champion. He broke Chris Courtade's leg, he had blood feuds with Shane Destiny, Alex Extreme, Juan Vasquez and countless other pioneers in this business. He was a EMWC North American Champion. UWF World Champion, Winner of the Extreme J Tournament... He is The Living Legend, "Cool Hand" "The Loose Cannon" ...Noted Wrestling Promoter, and The Master of the Cherry Pop Drop.... LUUUUUUUKE!! KIIIIIINNNNNSSSSEEEEYYYY!!! [CROWD ROARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] ["Electric Head pt. 2" kicks up over the PA System as the curtains pull apart to reveal the grinning face of Kinsey himself. He has brown hair, just above shoulder length and tied back into a ponytail. Smiling through hazel eyes and a clean shaven face, at 6'1, 234, Luke's still in optimal physical condition. He wears a silk beige dress shirt, his upper body is tanned and toned, although not monstrous by any means. Walking out on stage in designer jeans, Kinsey smiles, nodding to Serena as he takes his plaque and makes his way over to thank Kieran Rae. The Loose Cannon looks out across the cheering San Diego Sports Arena- and smiles back, taking it all in as thousands of fans roar back at the wrestling legend.] Jim: Kinsey to this day still on the receiving end of one heck of a wrestling response. Luke has come from just starting off in Syracuse New York to now being one of the pioneers of wrestling as it is today. He has never wrestled a match in Shootfire Pro but his presence adds a credence to SPW throughout the industry itself. Sean: Oh indeed. Luke has beaten the very best this sport has to offer. And now I believe that Kinsey joining the team here in Shootfire Pro can only bring the best out of the group. Say what you will about our organization's fights and feuds in terms of this colossal infighting and outsider insurrection, but a man the caliber of Kinsey is going to be nothing but beneficial for everyone in the locker room and the front office. Great call and signing for Shootfire Pro. [Kieran waits, as the fans have quieted down... and she does not look pleased to begin the next and final Legends Deal announcement... but has no choice.] Kieran: Ladies and Gentlemen. This next... this next Superstar in every sense of the word needs no introduction. Every noble hero in life as in this business, must have an adversary to compete against. The day has the night. Beauty has disgrace. What this next Legend is, is the literal embodiment of the very destruction of everything this sport stands for, this rejection of everything both evil, good and true. Without this man so many Superstars would never have been pushed to their limits and beyond if they even hope to survive a fight against this man. You do not beat him, you simply fight with the hope that the hell he wreaks down on your miserable existence stops while there's something left of your human soul worth saving. He is a USCW, HCW, EWF, NWWA, NEWF, EWF And the final RAW World Champion ever, SPW Universal and World Tag Champion, Shootfire Pro Hall of Famer, and RSPWF/EWRT 2005 Wrestler of the Year... Ladies and Gentlemen... The Scarlet Serpent... [CROWD BOOING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: Ohhhh Shit. Kieran: THE VIRTUOUS ONE... THE ICON GOD OF SPW... AND THE MASTER OF THE SATAN'S STRUT!! [MONSTER HEEL POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] VILE! VINCE! VIIIIIPER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [EARTH SHATTERING HEEL POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [From out of the back the camera moves from the silent stage to the side near the ring as the black curtains pull away near the stage... and a procession carrying a golden throne remiscent of ancient empires, carried by a brigade of leather-clad midgets... rides a chariot with wheels at each end. Four grotesque and twisted half man/half beast heads sit at each end, with eyeballs covering the entire contraption. The golden chariot moves closer as the throne pulls through the curtains. With a huge smile on his pasty white albino face, his yellow eyes with red veins flashing... in a dark pink snakeskin suit and deep cerulean tie, struts the Original King of Snakes himself, leg across the knee. His white hair that isn't falling out of his spotted head slicked back, Vile "Vince" Viper leers out across the crowd as they spit their booing hisses at him, and he flicks a forked tongue as he raises his jeweled fingers, as if to motion their measly hatreds away] Jim: I thought he was castrated to rot in Notorious Wrestling, I thought he was the ICWF's headache and cancer, I thought this... "Man" was gone forever but the thousand years are over and the beast himself has been unleashed from the pit. Vile Vince Viper back in Shootfire Pro, what does this mean for SPW? What does this mean for all of us!? Sean: I have no idea but hopefully he won't be wrestling, yet even his very presence on us is will test the federation like no one else in all its history. This, this is a true war of consequences as the nihilistic visions of Vile Vince Viper have plagued us all before... and now, now who knows what lechery schematics conspired in hellfire and brimstone the Antichrist Icon, this God of Shootfire will unleash on Shootfire Pro Wrestling. Ladies and Gentlemen, be afraid. Be very, very afraid. [Serena nervously hands the final plaque to a midget slave who rushes to present it to his king.] Kieran: And there you have it. Ladies and Gentlemen, Shootfire Pro and Wrestling Fans may I present the Legends! [MASSIVE FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] _____________________________________________________________________________ |_________________________________________________________________________SPW_| |_____________________________________________________________________________| [Fade back to the broadcast table as all three commentators are smiling. Jack is nodding, proudly as Sean O'Brady sits back with confidence and Jim Monroe is standing up, high fiving with cheering fans as Jack Sharp checks his earpiece and begins] Jack: And there you have it, our five new Legends Deals signed to SPW. While they are retired from active in-ring competition they will be integral towards shaping our future and truly help Shootfire Pro on its quest to become number one in the wrestling world. Fans, tonight is a historical event for this great federation but we have some news to report as well. General Manager Henry Spikes has gotten the Shootfire Army to agree to compete last, as they hope to have James O'Connor and Barry Baldwin back from Sharp Memorial by then. Sammy Knight will compete against Andrew Davis and defend his title belt before the Deathwish Cage which will now main event our show. Jim: WOW, you're kidding me, what does Andrew Davis think of this!? Jack: No one's been able to get in and get a word with Davis yet, his entire strategy and gameplan having been thrown out the window as the Invaders have apparently it looks like they've cut all ties with the World Title Contender. Nevertheless, the decision stands and Andrew Davis like it or not must face Sammy Knight first, prior to the Deathwish Cage. Jim: The best laid plans of Mice and Men I suppose. Well hopefully that buys us all the time we need to get JOC back to the San Diego Sports Arena after that no-good Scott Starring put the kid down with a Star Killer into the concrete floor, and we also might not even have The Red Dragon able to compete, not after Marissa Monet's heel hook on the Puro Star. Jack: That's true, his status is unclear as the Invaders have refused to let any Doctors in to check on Red Dragon, stating he's fine, but JDM Superstar won't do anything to announce if Dragon is in any way in shape for competition. That could be a great thing for all of us and bode well for the DCM, which just might be the most important match in Shootfire Pro-- Voice: What? You think you can have MY party WITHOUT ME?! V/O: THERE'S NO PROMISE OF SAFETY!!!!! [Screaming fireworks explode upward from the archway to the ceiling and ERUPT, causing another series of fireworks to explode from the ceiling and rain down golden sparks upon the entrance way. As the second sparking rain begins to obscure any view of the curtains, "The Melting Point of Wax" by Thrice blasts through the arena at the maximum possible volume] Jack: ASH!! Sean: COMING BACK OUT HERE! "I've waited for this moment All my life and more And now I see so clearly What I could not see before. The time is now or never This chance won't come again Throw caution and myself into the wind" [The Tron begins to flash 'C R U I S E R W E I G H T I C O N' over and over as the sparks raining down by the enterance ramp become heavier and heavier, making it unable to see any sort of figure at all. The screen begin showing various shots of AsH in matches with numerous opponents. One shot shows him hitting Andrew Davis with the T3 Superkick. Another shows him whipping VVV off the top of a three story cage onto a table. Finally it shows various shots of him holding up the Tag Team, Platinum, Diamond, Universal and finally the World Heavyweight Title high above his head] *POP POP POP POP POP* *BOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!!!!!!!!* Jack: THE CRUISERWEIGHT ICON WITH SOMETHING TO SAY!! [Small explosives begin to go off on the stage until the raining sparks finally stop and a series of 8 bottlerockets rip into the stage, setting off A MASSIVE explosion, leaving a mushroom cloud] [CROWD ROARING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [The mushroom cloud fades and AsH stands in the smoke, hands to the air with a MASSIVE smile on his face. On the left and right sides of the stage massive walls of flame erupt, framing him perfectly in the archway] Sean: Well as we've seen just moments ago, these fans surely haven't forgotten the Icon, either. Still as supportive as the day he left... and who could BLAME them? He practically MADE this company! Jim: What, by falling down a lot? The guy was a glorified punching bag! "There's no promise of safety With these secondhand wings But I'm willing to find out What impossible means" [AsH begins to walk down the ramp as he removes his "iCON" shirt and tosses it into the crowd.] [WOMEN CHEER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] "A leap of faith" [AsH quickly leaps into the fans, body surfing along them as he continues to slap hands and kiss a few women along the way. His hardcore horde begins to move him around the ring, rather then towards it, each fan pulling and patting his body as he surfs along. AsH leans back and laughs a few times before they finally float him to the guardrails] "Parody of an angel Miles above the sea I hear the voice of reason Screaming after me You've flown far too high boy Now you're too close to the sun Soon your makeshift wings will come undone" [AsH lands on his feet as the last few fans finally drop him onto the concrete and he quickly slides into the ring.] *BA-BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!!!!!!!!* [Four massive pyro blasts go off at the corners of the ring, blinding half of the fans who were looking too hard. AsH laughs as he runs up the ropes, riling up the already bloodthirsty Shootfire fans] "There's no promise of safety With these secondhand wings But I'm willing to find out What impossible means" [AsH raises his hand to the sky screaming "ASH!" along with the fans] "ASH!!!" "ASH!!!" "ASH!!!" "ASH!!!" "ASH!!!" "ASH!!!" [MAMMOTH FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: I'm still just blown away that the Cruiserweight Icon is back in Shootfire. [AsH pulls a mike from his back pocket and smiles out to the throngs of fans screaming "WELCOME BACK! WELCOME BACK!"] AsH: It wasn't TOO long ago that I created this Pay Per View. I booked it, I ran it, and I even defended my title in the headline match up. It was our highest rated show for a long time... some even say that it was the peak of my career, DESPITE losing the title. [AsH shakes his head] AsH: And I wasn't even INVITED?! [AsH smirks and the fans begin cheering louder. AsH cocks his head side to side and rubs his beard.] AsH: It's not that I don't enjoy the product you guys are putting on these days... its just that, I feel... I feel like the history is LOST somewhere in the midst. Shootfire's identity is a muddle gray mass somewhere between Victor Frost beating people retarded and Sammy Knight running the fed like a 3rd street crew. I'm just here to bring a little heart back to SPW! [HUUUUUGE FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] AsH: Ya got JCA and Dave Pietka coming back to great fanfare. Rightfully so! Both men are extremely talented wrestlers who bring a lot to the table and can trace their roots to find a stint in Shootfire. They will undoubtedly bring huge ratings and put on great matches. ...but they weren't BORN here! [FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] AsH: I was BAPTIZED in the blood of Shootfire. I was a NOBODY when I stepped in these rings. When I _SET UP_ these rings... and broke them down when the show was over. I went from NOTHING to the GREATEST ICON that Shootfire has EVER produced. To this day, when Shootfire is talked about... people STILL equate it with AsH! [AsH smiles] AsH: Every broken bone, every pint bled, every title won and accolade racked up... it was all for Shootfire. Who won AND NAMED The Universal Title? Who won the first Deathwish Cage match AND the World title in the same night? Who held EVERY title there was to hold in his day? And who kicked the boss' teeth down his throat because he refused to see the company he loved BASTARDIZED? [AsH quietly points to his chest as the fans begin chanting his name] "ASH! ASH! ASH! ASH! ASH! ASH! ASH! ASH!" AsH: That's right... these kids may have all the talent in the world, but when it comes down to it... they will NEVER be Shootfire the way _I'M_ Shootfire. "The truth will set you free, but, first, it will piss you off. " [EAR-SPLITTING HEEL POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: What the...!? Sean: DARKSIDE CLYDE!!? What's HE doing out here!? Jim: Dixon can do anything he damned well pleases, as far as I'm concerned, just as long as it measn that we don't have to listen to any more of AsH's self-contragulatory statements! ["10,000 Fists", by Disturbed, begins to play over the loudspeakers, however it can barely be heard over the sound of jeers and catcalls of the crowd! The words "Welcome to the Dark Side" flash across the Shootfire Screens, the images dissolving into a shot of Darkside Clyde landing a sucker-punch to the back of Essex's head!] "Survivor Survivor!" [At that point, the stocky, shaven-skulled figure of Clyde appears at the top of the entrance ramp, heralded by a shower of white pyrotechics! Garbed in black boxing trunks, boots, and hand-wraps, Clyde smirks as he drinks in the hatred of the crowd; a sequence of clips above showing Clyde applying the Initiation to a series of unfortunate victims] "One more goddamn day when I know what I want And my want will be considered tonight, consider tonight Just another day when all that I want Will mark me as a sinner tonight, I'm a sinner tonight, yeah" [Clyde raises a fist into the air, then turns this gesture into a middle- fingered salute- a gesture that only serves to increase the volume of booing throughout the arena! The Shootfire Screens display a clip of Clyde hitting Anthony Alred repeatedly in the back of the head, followed by a sequence involving him giving Spike Nelson a T-Bone DDT from the ring apron to the arena floor!!] "People can no longer cover their eyes If this disturbs you then walk away You will remember the night you were struck by the sight of Ten Thousand fists in air!" [Once again, the screen displays a shot of Clyde's sucker-punch of Essex. Meanwhile, Clyde begins his stroll towards the ring, his smirk now transformed into a malevolent grin that displays more than a hint of violence] "Power un-restrained dead on the mark Is what we will deliver tonight, deliver tonight Pleasure fused with pain this triumph of the soul will make you shiver tonight, will make you shiver tonight, yeah" [Clyde makes his way to ringside, stopping only to sneer at the fans in the front row, before sliding under the bottom rope and making his way to the nearest corner. Climbing to the second turnbuckle, he stares out into the crowd, and throws back his head in laughter as the crowd began to chant "Fuck You Clyde" as loud as they possibly can!!] "People can no longer cover their eyes If this disturbs you then walk away You will remember the night you were struck by the sight of Ten Thousand fists in air!" [Dixon hops off of turnbuckle and levels a nasty grin in the direction of a very annoyed Cruiserweight Icon as he takes a single step forward and raises the mic in his had so that he can address the other man in the ring.] Clyde: I'm sure that everyone that's assembled inside this arena has been waiting a long, long time for you to make another appearance inside a Shootfire ring.... [CROWD ROARS ITS APPROVAL!!!] Clyde:*smirking*: And I've got to tell ya, AsH, I feel the exact same way as they do. [The Cruiserweight Icon gives Clyde a confused, suspicious glare as the crowd murmurs in suprise at that last remark. Clyde smirks slightly for a moment, before he continues to speak.] Clyde: You see, my man, I've been waiting a long, long time for the so-called Cruiserweight Icon to come back to the place he calls his home, and to see if he can replicate all of those wonderful achievements that you were only to happy to rhyme off when you stepped inside the ring. I've been waiting to see the AsH that everyone else here remembers,... [Clyde takes another step forward, and his smirk transforms into a slight, contemputuous sneer] Clyde: Because the AsH that *I'm* familiar with is a little bit different.... The AsH that *I* know was an uninspired, second-rate competitor whose style *far* outweiged the limited amount of substance that he possesed. The AsH that *I* know wasn't capable of holding a person's attention, or a title, for a span of any more than five minutes... [The crowd is beginning to rain down boos and jeers, and AsH is boring a hole through Clyde with a hate-filled stare, but Clyde doesn't sppear to take any notice of it as he returns the other man's glare with any icy stare of his own.] Clyde: And the AsH that *I* know could hardly be referred to as the Cruiserweight Icon of our previous place of employment. In fact, I would venture to say that when it came right down to it, *I* did more to further the cause of cruiserweight wrestling in that federation than you ever did! [MASSIVE HEEL POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Clyde: But, that was a different time, and a different fed, right, AsH? I never got the chance to face you *here*, and I'm sure that everyone in this arena would tell me that makes all the difference in the world... right? ["HELL YEAH IT DOES" FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Clyde: Well, AsH...that's about to change... Y'see...You came out here tonight to issue *your* statement of intent to return to the place you call your home... And *I'm* here tonight to issue a statement of my own...I'm here to state that your home no longer exists, and that a far different- and dare I say better place has replaced the home that you helped to create. I'm here to tell you that this is now *my* home, AsH. And I'm here to tell you that your presence in my home just isn't welcome! [MONSTROUS HEEL POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [AsH laughs under his breath and pulls the mike back to his lips] AsH: Funny that you should bring up MY success in 'our' former place of employment. Because last I checked... hmm.. one, wait, TWO Time former WORLD Champion versus... what? You got the Phoenix title... [AsH begins a very slow clap against the microphone] AsH: I heard they give that out in the raffle once a year. [AsH goes to drop the mike and but thinks better of it] AsH: Oh... and if you think that just because you've put a few ounces of sweat onto these mats... that it makes it YOUR home... well, you better look closer, Clyde. Because you're about to be MY DOORMAT! [HUGE FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: And AsH to the back, motioning for a Referee!? ASH WANTS A MATCH! Sean: Can we do this!? And out from back jogs Referee Glen Kyros, as AsH and Darkside Clyde both want to fight!! Well this I can't believe, AsH in the ring and Darkside Clyde demanding they start the match okay! Let's do it!! Jim: Yeah we're gonna go ahead with this one! Alright!! [Steve confers with the Referee who nods and yells, signaling as Amber hits the bell!] *DINGDINGDING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!* _____________________________________________________________________________ |_____________________________________________________________________________| |__ICONOCLASM_________________________________________________________________| ASH -vs- DARKSIDE CLYDE _____________________________________________________________________________ |_________________________________________________________________________SPW_| |_____________________________________________________________________________| [CROWD ROARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Stone: THE... THE FOLLOWING SET FOR ONE FALL! INTRODUCING FIRST, ALREADY IN THE RING, REPRESENTING THE BLACK MASS, FROM HALIFAX NOVA SCOTIA, STANDING 6 FOOT 2 AND WEIGHING IN AT 230 POUNDS, THIS IS DARKSIDE!!! CLYYYYYYYDE!!!!!!!!!!!! [MONSTROUS HEEL POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [Darkside Clyde yells at the audience to shut up and sit down as he jaws at the fans, swinging his arms and pacing back and forth. He pulls on the top rope as he cranks his head from side to side, ready to put AsH down for good.] Stone: AND HIS OPPONENT... FROM LAS VEGAS NEVADA, WEIGHING IN AT 223 POUNDS, THIS IS THE CRUISERWEIGHT ICON, THE LIVING KICKOUT!! THIS! IS!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSSHHHH!!!!! [FANS SCREAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [AsH goes to the second rope to spring up and spreads out his arms straight as the audience cheers!! The fans are roaring out in San Diego as the Cruiserweight Icon drops down, looking fit to kill Darkside Clyde!!] "ASH!!!" "ASH!!!" "ASH!!!" "ASH!!!" "ASH!!!" "ASH!!!" "ASH!!!" Jack: I can't believe this, AsH returns to Shootfire Pro Wrestling and in, ready to wrestle and looking great! He's been training for a comeback for months now and Darkside Clyde Dixon of The Black Mass his first opponent, Clyde with his hands up and AsH and Dixon circling, both now ready to fight- wow look at this folks, in a fight we never thought we'd see, the Hall of Famer returning live on the pay per view he created!! Cha- CHANCE FORTUNA coming down here now to join us! [The camera goes to the broadcast table as Chance Fortuna, the newest signee to Shootfire Pro wearing a sheer italian dress shirt, his black hair combed and styled, the male model sits down at the booth affixing the headset carefully. His smile all dimples, Chance leans back with arms folded as he looks at the monitor in front of him, Jim slapping him on the back, happy to see Fortuna back] Jim: Great to see You here Chance, once again bringing up the ratings I'm sure and out here to watch as the Legend himself, AsH actually wrestling on the pay per view he created, Iconoclasm! Chance: A PPV he created and has NEVER WON at! It's like, Congratulations, we named this wing of the hospital after you... we're only going to put retarded children and old people in it. [AsH has his hands out- circling as he dodges in and Darkside Clyde swings the right hook! AsH ducks! Clyde swings the second and AsH ducks again! Darkside grabs AsH and swings the uppercut inside as AsH hits the ropes and Darkside comes in to snap the Shoot Kick!!] Jim: Wow and Dixon all over the Icon, not even backing down for a second! ...Wait for it, wait for it, neither man backing down for a second! Both men known for their firebrand tempers!! [The crowd explodes as both men begin wildly throwing punches at one another!] [FANS CHEERING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: Dixon with the spinning legsweep but AsH jumps over! Clyde into the spinning backfist, right to the guts and jumps to Dropkick- AsH bashed into the cables!! Jack: The Veteran has never faced off against Darkside Clyde! Getting a firsthand introduction to the new Shootfire Superstar now! Chance: I'm familiar with both of them, and I've been in the ring with both of them I can tell you first hand, Jim Crowe isn't even close to Clyde Dixon's level of competition. You're going to see first hand why Darkside is one of the best in the World and Jim Crowe is going to find out firsthand. Jack: Why do you keep calling him that? Chance: That's his name! Why shouldn't I refer to him as such? [Clyde grabs up AsH and screams as he snapmares him over- onto his feet! AsH jumps and runs across the ring as Dixon charges, letting the lariat fly but AsH ducks underneath to run and smashes into the side, flying back as Clyde comes racing and AsH flies through the air to take Dixon down with the crossbody block!] [FANS CHEER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: ASH TAKING DARKSIDE CLYDE OFF HIS FEET! BUT DIXON THROWING HIM RIGHT OFF!! Jim: Clyde to his feet and AsH with the standing side headlock NO! Dixon throws him off and jumps for the ENZUGIRI- Sean: ASH DUCKED!! Chance: JIM CROWE DUCKED! Jack: Clyde up and AsH forearm shots him across the face! Nailed him hard! And AsH not afraid to throw punches himself! Kick to the stomach and AsH beating into Darkside Clyde! Irish whip and Dixon with the reverse! [AsH gets sent for the ride as Clyde spins launching the roaring elbow but AsH hangs on to the cables and Dixon misses! AsH leaps into a diving handstand, legs up to wrap around Clyde's head and AsH handwalks into a hurricanrana takeover!!] [FANS CHEERING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: AND THE ICON WITH SOME NEW MOVES!! DIXON SENT FOR THE FRONT FLIP!! Sean: THESE FANS STILL GETTING A SHOW FROM THE GRAND SLAM CHAMPION!! Chance: AND STOCK IN DENNY'S RESTURANTS EVERYWERE JUST RAISED 3 POINTS WITH YOUR CHEAP PLUG! Are you getting a kick back or something because if you are... [Dixon rolls up, cursing like a motherfucker! AsH comes off the ropes with the flying necksnap, bashing Clyde's face into the canvas! AsH is up, taking him over into a front facelock, as Clyde sprawls to push AsH away. AsH hangs on tight, and hooking the waistband, spins to send Dixon shoulderfirst right into the turnbuckle pads!! The fans pop as Dixon staggers back, clutching at his shoulder and AsH kicks over upside down to hit the Sunset Flip!] 1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Sean: DIXON KICKS OUT WITH AUTHORITY! [Clyde roars over shoving up and throws the clothesline as AsH catches his arm, kicking up around to float over and slams the DDT! Dixon knees up hurting and AsH slams the basement dropkick right between his eyes!] ***CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!!!!!!*** Sean: OH!! And AsH all over Dixon, is this what Clyde wanted!? Is this what he really wanted coming out to answer the call of the Cruiserweight Icon! Jim: AsH up and throwing the kick! Dixon hurt, AsH with another kick to the shoulder! Clyde hurt- catches the leg! Jack: Up and DRAGON SCREW LEGWHIP ON THE VETERAN!! [FANS ROAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: Whoa! Caught AsH and that's shocking! But still has the leg, to his feet and grabs under the arm, up and LEG CAPTURE SUPLEX!! Clyde dragging AsH to his feet and up into the air, DROPS THE SHINBREAKER! Oh man, Darkside Clyde just stringing together move after move showing off that killer instinct The Black Mass are famous for! Jim: Well yeah, that training from Steve Liermann really paying off, you can tell the technical influence of Liermann instrumental in this new intense and methodical style from Clyde Dixon. Chance: Not since the days of Johnny Pain as there been so much technical... tech... Te... *YAWWWNNNSS*.... [Dixon pulls AsH's leg over, turning it over into a single leg crab! The fans roar out as AsH shoves up, trying like mad to fight out as he pulls hand over hand to get across the ring! Darkside Clyde hangs on, sitting back as AsH begins to pull them both- and Darkside Clyde stands right up, pulling the leg over his head as he shoves on both sides, clamping in the standing Stretch Muffler!!] [CROWD BOOING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: AND ASH HANGING UPSIDE DOWN IN THE SUBMISSION MANUEVER, DARKSIDE CLYDE LOOKING TO MAKE ASH GIVE UP IN HIS PAY PER VIEW RETURN TO SPW!!!!!! Jim: AsH never says die! He never gives up! ...He will pass out from the pain though. Incredible I didn't know Darkside was capable of this. Chance: HAHAHAHA! Never give up! Jim Crowe's quit more times then Brett Farve... give me a break. He's a born quitter! If he taps out now at least we can all get onto something more interesting then the return of AsH version 13. Jack: Shootfire Pay Per View does bring out its best, folks you're watching an impromptu wrestling match as the Veteran Icon, AsH the first ever Grand Slam Champion- Andrew Davis being the only other one with that particular distinction- wrestling against Darkside Clyde and this has so far been an extremely competitive match. Chance: There ya go again! If there's kick back revenue from Denny's I want in! Grand Slam! Sean: See, a Grand Slam Champion is one who's secured the Universal or Platinum and Diamond, now Fusion, the World Tag and of course the World Heavyweight Championship status. Chance: And an egg omelet, sunny side up? Jack: Don't even waste your time Sean. [The Referee asks for the give but AsH says no, pulling his free leg out- and sending the heel right into Clyde's head! The fans cheer as AsH pulls the leg away- and brings it into Dixon's head once again! Clyde staggers, then stands tall and AsH brings the leg out again- as the fans are roaring, all the blood draining to his head- and AsH kicks his heel into Dixon who's finally forced to drop him!] [FANS CHEER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: OH ASH HAS GOTTEN FREE!! Jim: BUT THE DAMAGE HAS BEEN DONE!! Chance: GRAND SLAM! MOON OVER MY HAMMY! [AsH crawls up, head draining as he drags his leg, and Clyde Dixon shakes out his head in the corner. The Referee orders them both to wrestle as AsH is crawling across the ring, pushing up as Clyde comes right after him, stalking the former World's Champ... the fans begin to rise up and yell as AsH gets to the side- dragging himself up and Clyde charges!! The Referee shouts and Dixon shoves past, grabbing up the T-Bone lock and suplexes AsH back into the DDT!!!!] [CROWD ROARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: OH! Throwing the rulebook at the window! Dixon with the Midnight Special and now going right into an extended period of ground and pound! Clyde assuming the rear mound, and fires a series of hard forearms and punches to the back of AsH's head!! Jim: And the Referee may want to think about stopping this match! Jack: Not on your life! If anything in the Cruiserweight Icon's M.O. it's his never ending will for survival, he will not give up no matter what! Chance: It's his lack of common sense and good judgement... don't confuse the 2. Sean: AsH nearly beaten into complete submission! And Darkside Clyde now rolling him over, crossing the legs to turn the man upside down, hooks the belly to belly and STANDING TALL!! THE FINAL- Jack: ASH TAKES HIM OVER INTO A FRONT ROLL!! COMES UP WITH THE LEGS!! HOW IN THE HELL DID HE- 1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 3-DARKSIDE CLYDE KICKS OUT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [Clyde shoves up and runs right at the ropes! AsH rolls to his feet, hurting and Darkside Clyde throws out the Yakuza Kick but AsH drops as Clyde misses! Dixon spins around as AsH hooks his arms and jumps to kick out the legs flying underneath Clyde's dropping him with the necktie breaker!!] [FANS ROAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: WHIPLASH!! WHIPLASH!! WHIPLASH ON DARKSIDE CLYDE!!! Sean: AND ASH HURTING LIKE HELL! BUT ROLLING OVER AND HE HAS THE PIN! 1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 3-NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!! CLYDE KICKED OUT AGAIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [Darkside Clyde rolls over and tries to get up as AsH has his head- but Clyde spins around sending AsH racing cross corner! AsH hits the buckles as Darkside Clyde catches his bearings, and charges as AsH spins around himself and slams the discus clothesline right into Dixon's face!!] [HUGE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: NAILED HIM! AND ASH INTO THE AIR SOMERSAULT DOUBLE STOMP!!!!! [FANS SCREAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jim: YOU GOTTA BE KIDDING ME!!! ASH UP AND TO THE ROPES- LEAPING IN OVER THE SIDE! TO THE CORNER AND NOW HEADING UP TO THE VERY TOP!!!!!!! [AsH stands tall, and leaps out across the ring as he swings his arm and diving out, leaps into the air to twirl the arm as he sails straight down with an Elbow from Heaven!!] ****WWWHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAMMM!!!!!***** [MONSTER POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: CLYDE DIXON STILL ALIVE!! Chance: GRAND SLAM! [AsH shoves up, hurting as sweat runs down his face, and Dixon rolls over, trying to get back up as AsH beats him to the punch with the european uppercut! Clyde staggers back- and comes in swinging the right cross to smash AsH off a foot! The fans pop as AsH throws the fist nailing Dixon with the haymaker as hard as he can!! Dixon goes down to a knee, and AsH comes in with the head but Dixon smashes the fists to the stomach, then follows up with a straight Uppercut to the jaw!! AsH spits out blood and Darkside Clyde locks him tight, then whips AsH up into the air and SMASHES the Sambo Suplex!!!] [FANS ROAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: CLYDE DIXON PUT HIM DOWN!! AND NOW ON TOP OF ASH- WRAPS THE ARM OVER HIS HEAD AND ROLLING OVER HE HAS THE GUILLOTINE CHOKE CLAMPED IN! [HUGE HEEL POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jim: HEART OF DARKNESS! HEART OF DARKNESS CHOKE LOCKED IN! Jack: AND ASH ONCE AGAIN ON THE EDGE OF BEING FORCED TO TAP! Sean: ASH HAS NEVER TAPPED! AND HE WON'T START NOW!!! Chance: This is it... ring the bell! Jim Crowe has no where to go but the shower! [AsH's arms swing out as he tries to shove them under both, to force Dixon on his shoulders instead of trying to fight his way out. The Referee is down to see if both are vulnerable to the count, and Dixon rolls over on top of AsH to bend the man's head up into his own chest. Darkside Clyde sits up and wrapping the legs around, tries to keep on the Icon with the choke cinched in- and AsH gets a leg underneath as the fans are roaring in the San Diego Sports Arena!!] Jim: ASH FIGHTING TO GET FREE!! Jack: BUT CAN HE DO IT!? DOES HE STILL HAVE WHAT IT TAKES! Sean: AND THIS CAPACITY CROWD CHEERING THEIR HERO ON!!!! [The Referee shouts for the tap but AsH's leg is shaking! Forcing up, he gets his other leg under as he shoves both men up off the mat! The fans are roaring as AsH's legs twitch and he fights to lift Darkside Clyde up into the air! With an arm wrapped around the head- and now one around the leg AsH swings backwards into the bridge nailing a Short Fisheman's Buster!!] [CROWD ROARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jim: DIXON DROPPED ON HIS HEAD!! AND ASH ABLE TO GET FREE OF THE HEART OF DARKNESS!!! Jack: I CAN'T BELIEVE IT! AND ASH DOWN HOLDING HIS KNEE, I THINK HE COULD HAVE TORN IT WITH THAT LAST MIGHTY SHOT!! Sean: ASH TRYING TO GET UP!! AND CAN HE- DOES HE!? YES!!!! ASH TO HIS FEET AND FEEDING OFF THE CROWD! "ASH!! ASH!! ASH!! ASH!!!! ASH!! ASH!! ASH!! ASH!!!!" Jim: CAN YOU FEEL IT! DARKSIDE CLYDE ABOUT TO GET UP- ASH BACKING UP!!!! [The fans are cheering as Clyde Dixon rolls around- and AsH backs up- then rushes to jump into the air, shooting out the T3 Superkick and Dixon weaves to the side grabbing the leg out of the air! The fans scream as Clyde rolls outside to snap AsH over with the outside Dragon Screw!!!] [FANS SCREAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: MANDALA HINERI!!! AND ASH DOWN AND YELLED IN HORRIBLE PAIN!!! Jim: I THINK THAT ENTIRE LEG MIGHTA BEEN DISLOCATED BY DARKSIDE CLYDE!!!! [AsH is rolling around, clutching at his leg and Darkside Clyde rolls over, sweat streaming off his body! Trying to fight up, trying to find his spirit, Dixon forces himself back to a vertical base as AsH is miserable, trying to drag himself for the nearest ropes!] Jack: Oh like a mouse with its back caught in a trap!! Sean: Darkside Clyde has avoided the T3 and now practically incapacitated the Hall of Famer! Jim: AsH at the ropes- but Clyde has his leg! Darkside Clyde on his leg and dragging him back! [AsH hangs on and head twisting around- shoves off the bad leg to let it fly! Clyde easily ducks and AsH lands on the leg then shouting kicks it back to nail Dixon on the rebound!! The fans roar out as Darkside drops to a knee and AsH limps over, locking the head and arms in the Full Nelson and leaping right out to slam the AsH Kisser!!!] [FANS SCREAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: ASH KISSER!! ASH KISSER!!! ASH GOT HIM!! BUT CAN HE MAKE THE COVER! Sean: ASH CRAWLING OVER AND YES! YES! HE HAS THE LEG AND ASH FOR THE PIN! 1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 3-NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Jack: CLYDE WITH A FOOT UNDER THE BOTTOM ROPE!! UNCANNY!!! [CROWD ROARING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Chance: Clyde is as tough as ANYONE in SPW... Jim Crowe's homecoming is going to end in heartbreak... I promise it! [The fans in San Diego scream out as Dixon just gets the shoulder free at the last possible second! AsH sits up, freaking out as he doesn't know what to do! Limping over he drags Dixon's head up and smashes his own head into Clyde's battering him down to the mat! The fans roar as AsH holds Dixon's head and smacks his into Clyde's over and over again, until neither man is moving much!!] Sean: Clyde Dixon on the mat as AsH lays on top, legs virtually useless at this point, and what's this!? [CROWD ROARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [Down the ramp, with hands in his cargo shorts, Palm Tree shirt open, the Legend himself "The Top Dog" Rick Styles is sauntering down towards ringside. With a sunhat and shades on, he looks like he's in full vacation gear. Tipping his Margarita to the announce table, he is all smiles. The fans are clearly noticing the presence of Rick Styles who circles around the ring... eyes on the match the entire time from behind his red tinted sunglasses.] [CROWD BOOING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: RICK STYLES! WHAT IS THE TOP DOG DOING OUT HERE! Jim: If there's a spotlight, Rick Styles has got to be in it! The Top Dog making his presence known- does anyone have any idea what this man is doing here for? He already had his introduction at the signings of the Legends Deals, much like AsH! Jack: Apparently making himself at home, but I don't know why for sure there's no reason he wants to be an active competitor! [Darkside drags himself up and raises his arms to fans as AsH drags himself up. Clyde can't believe AsH is still going! Muscling his head over, Darkside lands the overhead arm smash to the back, flooring AsH to the mat. The fans are booing out as Clyde kickstomps the leg, roaring out towards the crowds! The audience is yelling as Darkside takes up AsH and suplexing him into the air... hauls him for the Jackhammer but AsH kicks out his legs and lands the falling Hangman's Neckbreaker!] [FANS SCREAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: ASH NAILING DARKSIDE OUTTA THE AIR!! WHOA!! Jim: AND THE ICON GOING TO THE TOP ROPE!! COULD THIS BE IT! DARKSIDE DOWN!! Sean: ASH SCALING THE BUCKLES!! LOOKING FOR THE AIR RAGE! Jack: AND RICK STYLES UP ON THE APRON! [MONSTER HEEL POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [Styles shouts at AsH, shaking his salty drink as the umbrella sloshes around, and AsH looks surprised to see The Top Dog shouting him down! Darkside gets up, moving around slowly and AsH turns to leap off the top, changing it into a Missile Dropkick instead! Clyde spins to catch the legs and throws them straight up sending AsH into a flip and pancake as he swans dives into the mat!] [CROWD ROARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: OH MY GOD!!!! Jim: DARKSIDE CLYDE ABLE TO COUNTER!! AND ASH ALL THE WIND BLASTED OUTTA HIM! Jack: AND CLYDE SNATCHES HIM UP! HEAD AND ARM HE HAS THE T-BONE UP WITH THE BRIDGE RIGHT INTO THE MIDNIGHT SPECIAL!!!! Chance: THAT'S IT! STICK A FORK IN HIM! *****WWHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMM***** Sean: AND ASH SITS UP- AND KEELS BACK OVER! DARKSIDE CLYDE WITH THE PIN! Jack: OH A TRAVESTY OF JUSTICE!! NOOOO!!! 1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Chance: TOLD YOU SO! 3!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [MONSTROUS HEEL POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Stone: AND YOUR WINNER! DARKSIDE CLLYYYYDE!!!!! Sean: ASH Beaten by Darkside Clyde and his Midnight Special, whatta move but Rick Styles had to come down for what reason!? What reasoning! And stick his nose in where it didn't belong, to ruin a perfectly good match! Chance: Doesn't matter...Dixon was winning this match...no questions asked. Jim: Yeah but at that point all it took was one mistake, one maneuver, and the match would have been over! And now Rick Styles heading back up the aisle, oh fully satisfied with himself and saluting the jeering SPW Fans, man they wanted to see their Icon pull things off, but this was shocking to say the least DARKSIDE CLYDE DIXON just PINS the Cruiserweight Icon!! Chance: You say that like it's some amazing task...if you don't remember I beat AsH and World Champion at the time Steve Greedy in my SPW DEBUT and then I pinned AsH AGAIN the next week. It's not really an honor, simply a rite of passage... Jack: Unbelieveable upset but folks this will go down in the history books as the night Clyde Dixon got a pinfall victory over AsH! Amazing, what else can happen next!? This has been night so far that none of us will soon forget! _____________________________________________________________________________ |_____________________________________________________________________________| |__ICONOCLASM_________________________________________________________________| [Fade back to the interior of the cheering San Diego Sports Arena as Sean, Jack and Jim are going over the events of Iconoclasm that have already taken place.] Jack: Iconoclasm is rolling on, and who could have believed everything that has happened this evening. [A voice booms throughout the arena.] Voice: Ladies and Gentlemen. [HUGE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jim: Who the hell is that? Sean: There's no one in the ring or on the ramp. Who's talking? Voice: Look up, San Diego. Jim: God? [The camera flies around the arena like an episode of "The Price is Right," desperately looking for the voice. Finally, the camera stops on one of the luxury suites. The door is open and out on the unit's balcony stands one Andrew Davis!] [HUGE HEEL POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: Hardly. The Devil himself. Jim: You don't look up to see the Devil, Jack. Andrew Davis: I know that Shootfire prides itself on PPV's, and that is part of the reason it overbooks them with twists and turns, attempting to keep even the three year olds with the Sammy Knight bandannas in the crowd from going to the bathroom. Keep the action nonstop, keep the roller coaster going full steam ahead, and maybe these fans will forget the stale taste in their mouth when they leave the arena. [HEEL POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: Andrew's been involved in numerous pay per views, and he's been swerving people since day one! Davis: As I said on Off the Chain, one of three things was going to happen at Iconoclasm. One, Knight proves that he is indeed Superman, three was I become champion, and two was that Gideon Cain would protect the champion. I think that we all know which number took place earlier tonight. Jean Pierre Celine wakes up this morning and decides to turn on me? Do you think that this is a coincidence? Only a fool would be able to ignore that I am the leader of the Invaders. Under my guidance, they entered this organization and less than one season later, they are in the main event at a PPV. I have taken them under my wing, and through my influence I have given them the grandest stage of their careers on which to perform. I have kept my hands to myself, that is true, but not to hurt them, to help them. To inspire, to give them confidence. What Gideon Cain did to Sammy Knight, I have done to the Invaders, but JPC, Wild Bill, Nathan Taylor, Red Dragon, and Orchid have earned their entitlement. They faced the greatest that Shootfire had to offer, and they threw it back in the face of the establishment, thriving all the while. The Invaders are the future of Shootfire Pro. [HEEL POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Davis: Until today. Celine starts to think for himself, voices appearing out of the woodwork, I have no doubt that the words of encouragement go all the way back to the very top of the God Complex. Jack: Another conspiracy? Sean: I think that this all counts as one big conspiracy. In Davis' mind, at least. Davis: What JPC and my fellow Invaders don't realize is that Shootfire is run by wolves. I have protected them from Cain & Knight, who at any time would have gladly struck them down and thrown onto the street, along with Derek Weaver, another man who decided to leave my protection. They now find themselves between a rock and a hard place: If I win, they have crossed the only man who ever looked out for them, the only one who ever cared. If I lose, Sammy Knight will finish what Cain and his dogs Monet & Christian have started. Whether you like it or not, Jean my friend, you have just effeminately talked your way out of ever challenging for the Shootfire World Title. [CROWD POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: This crowd may not like Andrew Davis, but hearing that JPC just screwed the Invaders sounds good to them! Davis: Gideon Cain, I know that you're in the building. Sammy Knight, I know that you are listening. Hear this: I am not distracted, and I am not afraid. You can brainwash my allies, you can bring in Legend after Legend to distract me, reintroduce the decrepit Cruiserweight Icon to grab my attention, BUT IT WON'T WORK. All I've ever wanted was a one on one shot with Sammy Knight. I wasn't the one who talked him into facing me after the Deathwish Cage match. That was his own idiotic idea. Jim: True. Davis: You can change the story all you like, but these truths are undeniable: for nine months, I have challenged Sammy Knight to a match for the World Title. That has yet to take place. And now, tonight, it will. Why in the world would I be disappointed? Tonight is the night that I set the Shootfire record, the first Three-Time World Champion. [HEEL POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Davis: And now that Gideon Cain has used his magic to erase Sammy's mistake, the greatest mistake to step foot into Shootfire will face me tonight. I will shut Sammy Knight's insipid mouth, the one from which he spews lie after lie and claim that they are fact. You can claim that you would have faced me anywhere I wanted for nine months. But the facts are this: you have hidden, you have run, you have fled the country for matches that never took place, you wore a fake cast, and you have thrown roadblock after roadblock and continue to do so the night of Iconoclasm. I am not afraid of these twists and turns. I have been constant in my chase for the gold, and I stand here today, right now, in front of the Shootfire Faithful saying that I, Andrew Davis, will walk out of this arena as the Shootfire Pro World Champion. [HUGE HEEL POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jim: Sean, you were saying something earlier about Andrew shitting his pants? Sean: I was speculating. Davis: Sammy Knight, your life, as you put it, is exactly the type of story that Hollywood loves to tell, as you so elegantly put it. You're a bastard from a single mother, raised on the streets of Compton. An ex-gang banger. A proud father. A World Champion. Sends the audience home happy, gives them an upbeat message about life. You are correct; Hollywood loves to tell a story like yours. A title reign like yours, where you overcame all the odds. They love it... BECAUSE IT IS A WORK OF FICTION. [MEGA HEEL POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Davis: This is the big climax, Sammy. I hope that Cain has something up his sleeve, because this match is going to be a tragedy. For you. [Andrew turns from the fans and walks back into his suite, the doors closing behind him, and he disappears from view. Back to the commentary booth, with Jack, Jim, and Sean.] Jack: Andrew Davis is not scared at all, in fact he seems to be eager to accept the challenge! Saying the Invaders have dug their own graves in essence as they will have no friends on either side of the top of the mountain, and once again reaffirming his promise to uncrown Sammy Knight as Heavyweight Champion of the World! Jim: And you had better believe it, if anything else, that Andrew Davis believes it. Say what you will about his conspiracy theories and paranoid delusions, but Andrew Davis lives, eats, sleeps and breathes his way of thinking and in ring performances reflect that. He wants to win more than anyone I've seen in quite some time, to make history tonight as he goes up against Sammy Knight. That in itself is a supreme challenge as no one has been able to defeat Sammy for that title since Wrestlebowl of 2008. Sean: It's true, the man is a living legend and is Champion and leader of this federation unquestionably. Will tonight be the defining moment in the career of either man? Two warriors, so evenly matched- and Knight still with the Deathwish Cage to compete in later on in our final fight of the night, what a match that will be. Jack: Exactly. And now wrestling fans, the Second Coming continues as I am being told The Family is on their way out here!? Who is this- what will this be? Jim: Whatever it is, it will be good! What else can possibly happen tonight at Iconoclasm!? _____________________________________________________________________________ |_____________________________________________________________________________| |__ICONOCLASM_________________________________________________________________| [CUE: "Irresponsible Hate Anthem" by Marilyn Manson!] [The lights in the crowd portion of the arena go to black as white spotlights hit the top of the ramp as from the back steps two men in black coveralls and black boots. Both men look familiar, but their white painted faces with black eyes making it hard to place them exactly, but we DO know them... "I am so all-american, I'll sell you suicide I am totalitarian, I've got abortions in my eyes I hate the hater, I'd rape the raper I am the animal who will not be himself Fuck it" [As they get to the top of the ramp, both men drop to their knees and fall to the floor bowing, at first we do not know why, but the floor in the middle of them splits open with blinding white light beaming through it.] "Hey victim, should I black your eyes again? Hey victim, You were the one who put the stick in my hand" [Suddenly, a shadow cuts the light, as two people are raised up from the floor, one, we recognize right away, it is "The Pretty Pretty Princess" Iris Galiver, wearing her new ensemble of a torn black, knee length skirt, black corset that is tattered in spots, black fingerless gloves, and black combat boots. Iris is petite, standing between 5'6" and 5'7" with a small framed build and pale skin. She has wildly colored bright red/pinkish hair that she wears past her shoulders. The hair frames her porcelain doll face, giving her an eerie look since her skin is so pale. She is giggling all the way up to the stage, and as usual, Iris has Rosie... her prized dolly. However, tonight, Iris is only carrying Rosie's head with her. She nuzzles the head closely to her face and then clutches it to her chest.] "I am the ism, my hate's a prism let's jut kill everyone and let your god sort them out Fuck it" [The man next to her wears a long black jacket buttoned up with a hood up covering his face. He wears black fingerless gloves and black combat boots, much like Iris. Iris looks lovingly at the man standing next to her as he looks to both of the men kneeling at his sides. He reaches down and taps them both, and they both rise to their feet, now leading the way for our mysterious hooded man.] "Everybody's someone else's nigger I know you are so am I I wasn't born with enough middle fingers I don't need to choose a side I better, better, better, better not say this" [The music continues to blare as the group walks slowly down the aisle, the painted men looking right to the ring, oblivious to what is going on around them. We now see that the back of each of the coveralls have some sort of logo with a pentagram in the middle. Iris laughs and skips, talking to her dolly's head or her imaginary friend, Mr Peabody, or the hooded man, who has not looked up since he started walking.] "Better, better, better, better not tell I hate the hater, I'd rape the raper I am the idiot who will not be himself Fuck it" [The two men have made it to the ring, and quickly make it to either side of the ropes, holding them open for Iris and the hooded man. Both quickly enter the ring and go right to the center of the ring, where they take their place in the middle of a single spotlight. The two men go to either side of the hooded man and fall to their knees, heads down, a definite sign of reverence. The hooded man pulls a mic from inside his jacket and hands it to one of the men on his knees.] Man 1: Shootfire Pro Wrestling, fall upon your knees and worship, because you are in the prescence of not just greatness, but of a pair of DEITIES. [He motions to Iris, who clutches the hooded man's arm close to her.] Man 1: The woman is the worst nightmare of the Women's Division, she has wreaked havoc wherever she goes, and now she has decided to come back, and start a new revolution of blood, pain, and suffering. She is not JUST the "Pretty Pretty Princess" to my brother and I, but she is the GODDESS OF HARDCORE. Show reverence to IRIS GALIVER!! [CROWD BOOOOOOOOOS!!!] Iris: [from the distance] Hehehe! [Iris takes the microphone. She giggles loudly and skips around the ring.] Iris: YAY! Oh yay! Me and Rosie always wanted to come back to the SPW... because no one here was _ever_ nice to us. No one. So now? Now? Now I must... maim them... kill them. [She licks her lips, thinking of the torture... the flesh... the blood. She nods her head excitedly.] Iris: Those mean girlies like Nina Larue and Tiffany Lane? I remember them... I remember them well. I can smell their presence. I can see them lurking. I see their bodies... and they will soon become mine, because SPW, the Pretty, Pretty Princess left with unfinished business! Uh huh! Uh huh! Yes she did! [Iris giggles and dances around the ring insanely. The crowd begin roaring as she looks over at them and then into the camera.] Iris: Never quit looking over your shoulder, Tiffany Lane, Nina Larue... never. Because when you least expect it... the Pretty, Pretty Princess will be there... and you will be no more. Too bad. Too, too bad when you bid the SPW adieu and I put your body parts in my E-Z Bake Oven! Yummys! I've been wanting to make dinner for my friends for a long, long time! Hehehe! [Iris begins giggling loudly and insanely. She jumps around the ring wildly, up and down, up and down, the microphone and head still in tow. She begins giggling loudly into the microphone before suddenly hitting the ground in an Indian style position. Iris rocks back and forth, doll head clutched, mumbling...] Iris: I never... never liked you... I never liked you Poet Wright... ever. So now, now that I'm back I will... I will... I will destroy your living presence. Mommy... mommy told me to! Mommy told me to, Poet!! Don't blame me!!! Don't blame me!!! Nooo! Don't blame me, Poet!!! [Iris screams loudly, grabbing at her bright red hair. She squeals and continues rocking, dropping the microphone to the side. The man other man who is on his knees still picks it up as Iris continues to rock in the corner.] [CROWD ROARING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Man 2: Shootfire Pro Wrestling, fall upon your knees and worship, for the man standing before you is no ordinary man, but the Baron of Bloodshed, the true Master of Mayhem, the Leader of the Circus Diabolicus, Your One, True, Hardcore GOD. He is the Wicked Clown of Wrestling, "The JESTER" CHAD ALLEN! [MONSTROUS HEEL POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [The hood comes back to show the clown painted face of the infamous JCA, but there is definitely something different from normal JCA. His face is painted in a smeared version of his black and white clown paint, but right in the middle of his forehead is something new...a blood red pentagram. His eyes are milky white, showing only the iris, a black pinpoint in the middle. His head is completely shaved. Normally this is where he would probably let loose that infamous evil laugh of his, but instead, his is dead serious. He takes the mic from Man 2, and motions for both men to stand, and of course, they do.] JCA: Stand my Children, you have given a proper homage to your Father and Mother, and for that we give you blessings. [Both men bow, and take a step back, as JCA looks over the crowd with a sneer.] JCA: Do you see, Ladies and Gentlemen? Do you see how my Children have shown Iris and I the proper respect? You should look and learn, when the God and Goddess of Hardcore enter this ring, you should fall to your knees and pray. You should pray that the carnage and devistation that we do so well stays only in this ring, that it only stays aimed at the pretenders to our holy thrones. [The crowd, expecting the fun, happy clown we have seen in the past are a bit taken aback by this, and begin to boo.] JCA: You see, this is what I am talking about, this is NOT the respect that we deserve. You see, for years now I have been happy to entertain you worthless heathens out there, happy being your puppet. But finding my sadistic sweetheart, Iris, has opened my eyes. It has opened my eyes to how you all were nothing more than a roadblock in my ascension to my TRUE status as a GOD to be worshiped. [JCA looks to Iris who has made it back to her feet, now jumping around happily again, with the first sweet look he has given. He looks to the two men standing behind him.] JCA: She has also shown me the need to start a family, not just A family, but The Family. With Iris as my betrothed, and these 2 men behind me as our Children. You do recognize these men, don't you? These men that you have laughed at, spit on, and ignored. These men who have supreme talent, but no one ever felt the need to even ATTEMPT to give them an actual chance. They have been passed over and ignored for ENTIRELY too long, but Iris and I have SEEN the talent, and taken them in as members of our Family. [He puts a hands on Man 1's shoulder, then onto the 2nd.] JCA: These men were formally known as Real Xtreme, but now they are our Children. They have been remade in our images, made to be better, stronger, faster, and almost as devious as Iris and I. They are no longer known by the names they had in their past lives, they are reborn in the light of the Deities of Hardcore. As my first gift to my Children of Hardcore, I give you the opportunity to tell the world of your new identities. [The first man grabs the mic from the Jester, looking up in awe, and then quickly back down, not wanting to make eye contact with his Deity.] Man 1: Father, in your honor, I have chosen to become ENTROPY. [Jester smiles, and puts his hand on the man's shoulder, taking the mic back] JCA: Excellent, my son. You are going to be the decay and demise of the world that we know now. And you, what did you choose for your name, my son? [Jester hands the mic to Man 2, who takes the mic with the same awe as Entropy.] Man 2: Father, with thanks to you and the Goddess for giving me my new life, I have become ANARCHY. [Again, JCA smiles and touches Anarchy's shoulder with a warm smile.] JCA: Excellent!! The epotime of chaos! Just as your Father and Mother ask of you. [Jester looks over his kneeling "Children" and raises his hand to the sky.] JCA: Rise Entropy! Rise Anarchy! RISE MY CHILDREN! [Both men stand, heads held high, painted faces with grins of pure evil on them. Iris lets out her ear piercing giggle as she looks at her Children.] JCA: Just as the Women's Division should worry about our Goddess, Iris Galiver, and the World Title should be ready not just for a new champion, but a new GOD, so should the Tag Division be expecting to be taken over as well by Entropy and Anarchy, The Children of Hardcore!! [A smile comes over JCA's face as he looks to the people that stand beside him in the ring.] JCA: Shootfire, The Family is here to stand high on a mountain of your broken, bloodied, and dead bodies. I recommend, you RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! [CUE: "Irresponsible Hate Anthem" by Marilyn Manson as The Family poses in the middle of the ring. The camera passes over Anarchy, Entropy, Iris, and Jester Chad Allen as we fade to black....] _____________________________________________________________________________ |_________________________________________________________________________SPW_| |_____________________________________________________________________________| [I sat in my zone, meditating and trying to center myself. The ancient art of becoming one with ones self. Candles around me, the smoke of incense twirling about my body. I had to be clear of mind for this match. I had to end it. It all stopped here. It was no longer about this wayward cause that so many were fighting for. Invaders. The Shootfire Army. Whatever. It was about me. This was my time. This was my place and I wasn't going to let some pompous pious individuals hold me down any longer. This was my chance to break from the mold and show the world what the Dynasty is all about.] Orchid: The game is over sweetheart. The line of victims that will pave my way to the top and into the books. The blood that stains the stones one which I will walk to the legend status that I yern for. It all begins with you honey. This isn't about solidarity anymore. There have been many causes in which to fight throughout history, and many casualities of said wars. I'm not going to be one of them because to be honest, I have forgotten what we're fighting for. I want solidarity. They want politics. They have ego, I have desire. I desire to be more to this company then just some broad who appeared out of nowhere. I need to make a name for myself and then, and only then, will I decide which side is worth my time. I'm a freedom fighter and the freedoms I'm fighting for are merely my own. If you want them to drag you down, so be it, but as for me and my house, we serve one and one only. Thine own. No more games. No more push and pull. I'm going to victimize you. End of story. [I truly had no more to say. Words would not make a difference in this fight. Only the bloody, bloody end.] _____________________________________________________________________________ |_____________________________________________________________________________| |__ICONOCLASM_________________________________________________________________| Last Woman Standing JASY O'NEIL -vs- ORCHID _____________________________________________________________________________ |_________________________________________________________________________SPW_| |_____________________________________________________________________________| [The opening of "Love is Dead" hits the airwaves as the lights dim out. Hues of purples cover the arena, puslating to the track as Orchid steps out onto the stage. Ignoring the crowd, as it throws jeers her way, she makes her way toward the stage, staring out across The San Diego Sports Arena....] "This is the hardest part when you Feel like a vacant All that you had is become unreal, Collapsing and aching" [With long raven dark hair tied behind her head, Orchid stares out through green eyes. Her legs covered in a pair of long black tights, purple colored vines going aorund and up each leg leading into a pair of open flowers stretched around the hip area, the bottoms covered with purple kickpads over black boots. Her upper torso clad in a matching black halter, leaving her stomach bare. Black compression sleeve up her right arm, purple tape over both wrists and a purple and black pad on her left elbow. A red circle necklace hangs over her chest and Orchid smirks out, just feeding off the audience as they stand to boo her loudly] "All I want All I want was right here But love don't live here anymore (love is dead, love is gone, love don't live here anymore) Love don't live here anymore (love is dead, love is gone, love don't live here anymore)" [Orchid's face is frozen as she heads down the ramp, storming down the aisle as she makes her way towards the ring. Purple hues cascade through the darkened light as she approaches the squared circle, pulling her hand back in case the fans get too close and try to touch her. Arriving at ringside, Orchid smiles and stretching out a leg, places it against the apron and bends to touch her head to her knee, then rolls inside the ring to come up stalking towards the logo] Stone: THE FOLLOWING IS SET FOR ONE FALL!! INTRODUCING FIRST... FROM TOKYO JAPAN, WEIGHING IN AT 165 POUNDS AND STANDING 5 FOOT 9... ORRRRRRRRRRCHIIIIIIIIIID!!!!!!!!!!!!! [HUGE HEEL POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [The open guitar riff of "I Love Myself Today" by Bif Naked opens as the fans are on their feet cheering the arrival of Hall of Famer Jasy O'Neil!] "You left me like a broken doll In pieces as I took the fall for you, you dumb chump! You left me free-falling like space junk Burning up in the atmosphere of life Well I sound like a philosopher but I'm a fool who's off her rocker 'Cause I let you in my heart that one last time I've had enough, made up my mind I'm gonna get up and out and wahhh!" [At the opening of the chorus Jasy comes out on stage dressed in white knee- high boots and white lycra pants, her midriff is exposed to reveal a tanned six pack. She wears a lycra top with a blue triangle across the chest. With short red hair with blonde streaks, Jasy stands smiling! The fans get louder for the First Lady of SPW and Hall of Famer. She stops at the top of the stage, taken back by the reaction she's receiving.] "I love myself today Not like yesterday I'm cool, I'm calm I'm gonna be okay! Uh huh I love myself today Not like yesterday Take another look at me now 'Cause it's your last look Your last look forever" [She makes her way down to ring she slaps the hands of the fans along the way. Smiling out across the fans, Jasy does her signature entrance at the request of the fans to continue to the corner. Climbing up to the second rope, Jasy extends her arms as the Shootfire Faithful pop for the SPW Hall of Famer!] [CROWD CHEERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] "Well look at you you're all puffed up In that big red truck- but you're outta luck (this time) Well, that's tough 'Cause I'm on fire- too hot to touch with a chatroom full of lovers on the line Gonna step right up. Spit shine my soul I'm gonna be proud and loud and outta control!" [Jasy smiles and points out then steps down to drop and head across the ring. Striding across the SPW logo, O'Neil crosses the ring to climb the far corner and raises her hands to the other side of the frenzied arena!!] [HUGE FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] "I love myself today Not like yesterday I'm cool, I'm calm I'm gonna be okay! Uh huh I love myself today Not like yesterday Take another look at me now 'Cause it's your last look Your last look forever" [The music fades out and the fans are still cheering like mad. Jasolyn heads to the center of the ring, pointing down at the logo and throws her arm up one last time to a huge and enthusiastic response!!] Stone: AND HER OPPONENT, FROM NEW YORK, NEW YORK, WEIGHING IN AT 129 POUNDS, THIS IS THE HALL OF FAMER, THE FIRST LADY OF SPW... JAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASY!!!! O!NEIL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [MONSTER FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] ****DING DING DING****** Jack: Orchid Rousseaux in the ring and stretching with a leg across the top turnbuckle, incredibly limber for one of the most naturally talented workers on the roster, especially from the Invaders side. Yet she is as dark as they come and inherently evil if you ask me, so we are all with the Hall of Famer in Miss Jasy O'Neil and hoping the First Lady of SPW kick her butt all over the San Diego Sports Arena. Jim: Jasy in the ring and the fans cheering out, Orchid to her feet and heading towards the center. Your Referee is Ray Larch and there's the bell, this is a Last Woman's Standing match. [Jasy and Orchid circle, both women looking at each other... and they lunge for the lockup! Jasy hooks the collar and elbow but Orchid kicks a leg out to swing around back behind, securing up the hammerlock. Jasy moves, slapping at her bicep and ducks in under to pull up on the hammerlock herself. The fans are cheering as Jasy goes for the side headlock, but as Orchid blocks Jasy ducks inside to shoot and takes Orchid over with the fireman's carry!] Sean: Jasy outwrestling Orchid, top wristlock on as O'Neil controls the steadfast wrestler. Orchid trying to sit up, fighting to her feet, and as she does Jasy with the arm winding it over. Armbar no Orchid kicks out and takes the arm herself, reverses to wring it in! Jack: Jasy taken back and sent for the ride! No able to reverse! Sending Orchid into the ropes and Jasy throwing the elbow ORCHID sliding between her legs!! Both coming and test of strength Orchid drops for the single leg attempt no Jasy blocks into a front facelock. Jasy once again in control as Orchid fighting to get out, Jasy into a standing side headlock Orchid taking her back into the ropes! Throws her off sends her running across the ring! Sean: Orchid into the air, leg lariat DUCKED! Jasy continues running as Orchid for the hiptoss! JASY INTO A FLIP COUNTERS WITH A MID-AIR ARMDRAG!! [FANS CHEER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: ORCHID UP JASY SWINGS THE CLOTHESLINE! ORCHID DUCKED!! Sean: OFF THE SIDE AND SHOULDER BLOCK PUTS JASY ON HER ASS! Jack: ORCHID THROWING THE STOMP TO THE BACK OF THE NECK!! Sean: AND DOES IT AGAIN! AND DOES IT AGAIN! AND ORCHID VICIOUS WITH THOSE KICKS!! [Orchid grabs in the front facelock and sends Jasy running across the ring but Jasy spins to reverse sending Orchid around and right into the ropes! Orchid staggers back and Jasy jumps and slams the Lungblower!!] [CROWD ROARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: OHHH!! And Orchid rolling over Jasy charges KNEESMASH TO THE FACE!! [FANS CHEER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: ORCHID falling over! Jasy shouting out and backing up! Orchid to her feet, fighting to get up JASY WITH THE LEAPING SUPERKICK! ****CRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACKKKKKKKK!!!!!!**** Sean: ORCHID NAILED HARD AND GOES DOWN IN A HEAP! AND JASY- ROLLING OUTTA THE RING! [Jasy goes under the ring and reaching under, drags out an armful of light tubes!!!] [FANS ROARING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jim: Oh I think I just saw the price of admission. The First Lady unveiling exactly why they call her the Original Bitch of SPW. Jack: Nobody calls her that! Jim: Well Orchid when she's picking pieces of glass out of her skin tomorrow and all next month. Someone tell them to get the ambulances idling in the back, this is Shootfire Pay Per View and Jasy is stone cold when it comes to the bigtime. [O'Neil looks at the light tubes and rolls them all into the ring. Climbing up inside, she holds one high, looking at it with a fiendish smile! Orchid struggles to get up, hurting as she grips her jaw in pain, and Jasy storms over to point the tube out to the fans... and brings it to slash it down across Orchid's back smashing it to pieces, white smoke bursting everywhere as the fans scream!!!!] ***CRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSHHH!!!!!!**** [FANS CHEER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: AND JASY BRINGS DOWN THE LIGHT TUBE ACROSS ORCHID'S BACK!!! Sean: WELCOME TO SPW ORCHID ROUSSEAUX!! [Jasy takes up two lights tubes as Orchid tries to crawl up and Jasy brings one down across her head, then busts the other next!!] ***CRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASHHH!!!!**** ***CRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASHHH!!!!**** [CROWD CHEERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: And Orchid rolling out of the ring, dropping off the side as she falls to the floor. Jasy sliding out, and yelling at the fans to move, dragging Orchid up and handful of hair, charging the railing and THROWS ORCHID OVER THE BARRICADE!! Sean: ORCHID INTO THE FRONT ROW AND CRASHING THROUGH THE CHAIRS!!!! [FANS CHEER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [Jasy climbs over the side, taking up a chair as Orchid sits up, blood running down her face and Jasy sends the edge of the chair right into her head!!] "OHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Sean: MAN! Jasy nailing Orchid with all she had, headlock on her now as she walks her up, fist to the stomach, and walking across the floor of the San Diego Sports Arena, IRISH WHIP AND ORCHID SENT AGAIN INTO A ROW OF CHAIRS!!! ***CRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAASSHHHHH!!!!!*** [Orchid yells out falling to the concrete floor, as the fans cheer in the background! Jasy heads back around the side, climbing over as she moves inside and takes up the light tubes, one in each hand as she pulls back out and heads to put Orchid down for good.] Jack: Jasy coming to the corner of the railing and laying the tubes out between both rails, now over to throw the stomp into Orchid!! No love lost here to say the least! Jasy O'Neil with the headlock, ripping Orchid up and going for the suplex- Orchid sprawling! Sean: Orchid fighting to avoid this! She knows she takes much more, this fight is over! Jim: Orchid kicking and fighting like a crazy woman and suplexing Jasy up- INTO THE AIR AND DOWWWWNN INTO THE CONCRETE FLOOR!!! [FANS ROARING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: OHHHH!! And Jasy sitting up, back racked with pains!! Orchid over and KICKS HER HEAD! ****CRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!!!!!!**** Jim: TRIED TO KICK HER HEAD OFF! AND ORCHID DOWN ON ALL FOURS! [The fans are booing as Jasy rolls over, holding her skull with both arms wrapped around it, feet kicking into the floor of the Sports Arena. Orchid rises up, blood running down her face and stepping over the side, moves in to grab a light tube, and turns around breaks it in half across the ri ringpost!!] ****CRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAASHHHH!!!!!!**** Sean: ORCHID NOW WITH A BUSTED PIECE OF LIGHT TUBE! BLADES IN HER HAND! Jim: Now coming over the side and going for her nemesis!! Jack: This may not be for the faint of heart, but if that was you, you wouldn't be watching SPW on Pay Per View! Orchid over to pull up Jasy JASY RIPS HER WAISTBAND TO SEND ORCHID RIGHT INTO THE CHAIRS!! [MONSTER FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: OHHH! Orchid into the metal seats and Jasy getting up, reaches over to drag Orchid to her knees- Jack: ORCHID SLAMS HER HEAD WITH THAT BROKEN LIGHT TUBE!!!! [FANS SCREAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: MY GOD!! JASY DOWN AND BUSTED OPEN!! JASY FALLING OVER HOLDING HER FACE!!! [Jasy sits up and blood just runs down her face like a sheet! Gripping at her face with taped hands, she tries to wipe it away so she can see as Orchid knocks a chair over trying to get up. Jasy fights to get to her feet and Orchid takes her into the air, screaming out as blood runs down lines on her face, and suplexing Jasy up into the air- falls backwards to crash the Suplex right through a row of chairs!!!!] ***CCCCCRRRRRAAAAAAAAAASSSHHHHHH!!!!!***** [CROWD ROARING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: AND JASY LAID OUT IN A MASS OF CHAIRS!! AND THE REFEREE OVER HE WANTS TO START COUNTING!! 1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 3!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Sean: Orchid crawls up, holding the railing to push herself to her feet. Jasy is still hurting as she tries to kick out a leg, but can't even move as Orchid raises a gloved fist into the air. The fans are booing as the velvet one climbs over the side, heading for the ring as she notices light tubes on the floor near the corner of the railings- Jasy had left them there and they might be her end. 5!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Jack: Jasy with the leg up but she has been completely busted open! I have never seen a more vicious shot then what we just saw, Orchid drove a light tube end right into Jasy's face!! Completely shredding the skin right open, flaying it and now blood running profusely from the Hall of Famer's face!! 7!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 8!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Jim: Orchid coming back over the railing- and Jasy somehow rolling over! Getting up out of the chairs and SHE'S STANDING!!! [FANS CHEER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: O'Neil on her feet! AND HERE COMES ORCHID!! [Jasy turns and ducking low catches Orchid to spin out taking her upside down over her shoulder and and nails the Tilt A Whirl Sideslam right into the floor!! Orchid's head bounces off the concrete as she rolls over and Jasy heads over to a fan, and takes a fan's crutch! The fans are cheering out and Jasy raises the metal crutch overhead- and brings it down crashing it across Orchid's back!!!] [MONSTER FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!} Jim: SHE DENTED THE CRUTCH IN HALF! [Orchid screams out, shivering on the floor as she spasms and tries to crawl, and the Referee moves in to count! Jasy grabs the Referee by his shirt and shoves him away, then goes to take up a chair from the fans! Moving to the railing, Jasy uses the help of the fans to get up on the railing, balancing tall!!] [FANS CHEERING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: AND JASY YELLING OUT TO THIS CAPACITY CROWD!! "SPW!!!!!!!" "SPW!!!!!!!" "SPW!!!!!!!" "SPW!!!!!!!" "SPW!!!!!!!" Jack: JASY LEAPING CLEAR OFF THE APRON! FLYING CHAIR DIVE [FANS SCREAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] ****CRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSHHHHHH!!!!!!!****** Jack: ORCHID MOVED JASY CRASHED INTO THE FLOOR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Sean: AND JASY DOWN AND HURTING, BODY IN SHAKING IN TOTAL AGONY! Jim: HOW BADLY DO THESE TWO WANT TO HURT EACH OTHER!?! [Orchid crawls away, arm over arm as she can barely even move, and the Referee begins a count! His shirt all bloody, the Referee raises his arms and begins a double ten count!!] 1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 3!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 4!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 5!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 6!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 7!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Jack: ORCHID UP! ORCHID SHOVING UP!! AND SHE HAS THIS!! [Orchid throws her gloves in the air, celebrating as the crowd is cheering, trying to get Jasy up!!] Sean: Jasy- JASY'S GETTING UP! SHE'S ACTUALLY GETTING UP!! Jack: ORCHID CAN'T BELIEVE IT! SHE COLLAPSES TO HER KNEES!! [Orchid looks miserable as she wipes blood out of her eyes, and heading over goes for a steel chair. Rising to full height she swings wide and Jasy ducks right under! Jasy spins with the heel kick to send the chair right into Orchid's face!!] ****CRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSHHHH!!!!***** Sean: OHH! AND ORCHID DOWN TO ONE LEG! THIS IS NOT WRESTLING THIS IS BRUTAL!! Jack: No, wrestling went out the door the second this went into the crowd! This is a Last Woman Standing Match and Jasy bleeding all over the floor of the San Diego Sports Arena! And Orchid- Orchid down, almost fell into that light tube but Jasy has the chair and raising it again!! [FANS CHEER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: AND BRINGS IT DOWN ON ORCHID'S HEAD!! ***CRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAASSHHH!!!!**** Jim: BOUNCED IT OFF HER SKULL!! Jack: MY GOD MAN! ORCHID IS OUT! [Orchid lays on the floor, but Jasy isn't done! Staggering over, she pauses to wipe blood from her eyes as her neck is covered in red, she wraps the arm around Orchid's throat and dragging her up, yells to the fans as she takes Orchid high for the back suplex- and staggering back kicks out the leg to back suplex her skull straight into the barricade!] [CROWD ROARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: MY GOD MAN! JASY JUST TRYING TO TEAR ORCHID APART! SHE WANTS TO END HER CAREER, NOT JUST WIN THIS MATCH! Sean: THIS IS THE KIND OF FIGHT WE NEED TO SEE FROM THE SHOOTFIRE ARMY!! THIS IS THE KIND OF FIGHT WE NEED TO SEE IN THE DEATHWISH CAGE!!! [Orchid is down and half unconscious as Jasy goes to a fan's chair, opening it up and setting it across the floor. Taking up another chair, she grabs Orchid by her now bloody matted hair and dragging her over, lays her across the first. Orchid's hand is clawing as Jasy turns the chair upside down and stepping onto her back, stands high looking out across the arena, and jumps off as Orchid pulls away, Jasy crashing the rim into the steel seat!!] ***CRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSSHHHHH!!!!!!*** Jack: JASY MISSED! Sean: ORCHID UP AND SWINGS A LIGHT TUBE INTO JASY'S FACE!!!! ****CRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSHHHHHHH!!!!!***** [MEGA MONSTER HEEL POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [Jasy rolls around kneeing up and pulling at her face as glass pieces are stuck in her skin! Trying to get to her feet in complete misery, fighting as the fans are rabid, cheering her on! Orchid laughs, despite her pains, and ripping Jasy over, sets her up for the Tokyo Doom! The somersault piledriver!] Jack: ORCHID GOING FOR THE PILEDRIVER INTO THE FLOOR!! Sean: JASY IS BITING THE INSIDE OF ORCHID'S THIGH!!! [FANS SCREAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [Orchid screams out as Jasy sinks her teeth into her leg! Jasy takes Orchid up and slams her with the double leg takedown!! Orchid cradles her head as Jasy O'Neil drops and slams a forearm right across her face!] Sean: NICE SHOT! Orchid's head bashed to the side! Jack: These women have taken this to a whole new level, blood spray all over our camera from that shot thanks. Jim: Like I said, this is the kind of ferocious attitude you have to bring to these matches, that is all the Invaders understand. No speeches, not wrestling, brutality and once again The First Lady showing us all the way! [Jasy crawls off Orchid, and gets up to go for a weapon but slips on her own blood and smashes her knee into the floor!! The fans roar out as Jasy rolls over clutching her leg, and the Referee counts them both down once again!!] [CROWD CHEERING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] 1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 3!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 4!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 5!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 6!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [CROWD ROARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: Orchid limping up, I don't know if Jasy broke the skin but that's not for lack of trying. Jasy crawling over, and Orchid realizing she may have to damn near kill Jasy in order to win this match. Sean: Both women to the height of desperation, and Orchid has the jagged edge of the light tube once again, heading over as Jasy tries to rise and Orchid SPIKES THE GLASS ON HER HEAD!! ***CRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSHHHHH!!!!**** [FANS BOOING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: OHHH!! AND ORCHID busting the rest of the tube over O'Neil's head, shards everywhere, and Orchid now over to grab a chair from the fans!! Jim: THE FANS WON'T GIVE IT TO HER!! [Orchid pulls on the metal seat but the fans hang on!! Orchid rips at the chair but the crowd chants "SPW!!!" Turning around Orchid takes a kick to the guts, and huge Twist of Fate right into the floor!!] [MONSTER FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: TWIST OF FATE! TWIST OF FATE! JASY O'NEIL JUST DROPPED ORCHID AND THIS FIGHT IS OVER!!! 1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 3!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 4!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 5!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 6!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Sean: Jasy- Jasy staggering up as she holds that chair- what- what?! Jasy can barely stand! Jim: It's blood loss! It's all that blood loss!! And Jasy O'Neil collapsing to her knees, fainting due to the massive blood loss and her neck and chest are just covered, soaked in red!!! [Jasy falls into a chair pushing it aside as the Referee pauses and has to begin again!! Orchid rolls over, chest heaving as she stares into the spotlights!!] Jack: And the Referee has got to start the count again! 1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 3!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 4!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 5!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 6!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 7!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Jack: AND ORCHID GETTING UP!! HOLDING HER STOMACH, ORCHID TO HER FEET!!! 8!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 9!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [Orchid raises a gloved velvet hand in the air, face a mask of red as the crowd is booing out!!] 10!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! *****DING DING DING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!**** Stone: AND YOUR WINNER!!!!!!! OORRRRRCHIIIIID!!!!!!!!!!!!! [MEGA MONSTROUS HEEL POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [Mike McCarey and Gregory Brians both come through the crowd to tend to Jasy with EMTs and Medics moving in to treat both women! Shoving the officials aside, Jimmy kneels in with white gloves on, padding up the numerous cuts on the heads of both women! Orchid leans against the railing, holding it as she's being treated, feeling the swirling hatred from the fans in SPW....] Jack: And I hate to say it but give Orchid credit for simply surviving that, if she wasn't aligned with the Invaders I'd think she'd deserve all kinds of credit for that, that was two Superstars just giving it their all and this night Orchid triumphed, the better woman. Jim: Yeah I gotta say it, it's a shame she's with the Invaders and not SPW because we could really use a woman like that sporting the red black and white of Shootfire Pro Wrestling. However she is here and here to stay, even if her fate still to be decided following the Deathwish Cage. What a fight, what a match, Orchid just lucky enough and tough enough to stay alive. Sean: Excellent bloody bloody, bloody fight. Jasy just couldn't hang on after that massive blood loss and Orchid will win this match. Amazing effort put forth by both Superstars. Congratulations to Orchid as she wins this fight, and finally puts down the Hall of Famer Jasy O'Neil. _____________________________________________________________________________ |_____________________________________________________________________________| |__ICONOCLASM_________________________________________________________________| [Backstage, in one of the less trafficked parts of the arena. The camera work is unsteady as it moves towards a half open, rust stained door. The room is filled with old pipes, broken and discarded furniture and water stained cardboard boxes. Hanging upside down in the middle of the room is an old porcelain baby doll. The doll stained, dirty and her dress is badly wrinkled. Her hair is thick and coarse and long enough that it hangs almost to the floor. A fan in the back corner of the room springs to life. The camera jerks towards the sudden noise. The wind from the fan causes the hanging doll to sway back and forth slowly and out of the "ether" comes the 'sing songy' voice of a little girl.] LG (v/o): Ring around the rosy, pocket full of posies... [The doll's previously porcelain skin becomes grey and ashy. In bits and pieces it begins to fleck off and the ashy flakes waft slowly on the fan created breeze to the concrete floor.] ...ashes, ashes [The rope holding the doll snaps suddenly. Gravity does the rest and the doll's head smashes against the floor.] We all fall down. [The camera closes on the shattered head. The mouth seems to be curled into a curl, thin smile. A single eye stares at the camera. And winks. Fade.] _____________________________________________________________________________ |_________________________________________________________________________SPW_| |_____________________________________________________________________________| [Black.] V: AHHHHH! You shall die! [A giggle that turns into a loud pitched squeal.] V: Dieeeeee! Hehehe! [Iris Galiver is backstage, already causing carnage upon her return to SPW. Iris sits on the foor in the narrow hallway of the arena holding a hammer. There is a title belt that sits in front of her.] Iris: No more! No more! It is no more! [Iris begins beating the title belt with the hammer! The sound increases, causing Iris to scream... and scream loud!] Iris: Die, die, die! I hate you! I hates you so much! You failed me, you did, you did! You failed me so much. [A shadow encompasses the wall next to Iris. Iris giggles again and looks up at the shadow.] Iris: Hi my evil Jester, looks what I got! Looks what I got! [She picks up the smashed title belt in one hand, holding the hammer in the other. The title belt is now almost unrecognizable, the leather strap also worn.] Iris: Isn't it pretty? Isn't it pretty? Is it as pretty as me? [Iris smiles lovingly as whomever has approached her. That angelic, evil look she is known for. Our camera moves to show that the shadow is Iris's "evil Jester" Chad Allen, but he is flanked on either side by the Children of Hardcore. Jester is in his long black trenchcoat that is buttoned from the next to the waist, black pants, and black boots. The hood to his jacket covers his face. The Children wear the issue black jumpsuits and black boots. The 3 face painted men stand looking over the carnage Iris has thus far created. Jester reaches down and strokes the cheek of his "Psycho Sweetheart".] JCA: Do you see, my Children, what the Mother has done? She has taken something that has wronged her, something that is a detriment, and destroyed it. She has taken power over it by smashing it into a million pieces, and by doing so, has actually made it as beautiful as the Mother herself. So if there is something OR someone out there that has wronged you or the Family, you be sure to DESTROY it, so that they know they have done you wrong. In the end, they will be better and more beautiful for it. Praise the Mother for teaching us this lesson. [Both Children immediately drop to their knees in front of Iris, heads down in a sign of respect.] Both Children: Praise be to the Mother. [Iris looks to her side, staring at both of them. She giggles loudly and shakes her head. Jester's smile can barely be seen from behind the hood at the obedience of his Children. He taps them on the shoulder, and both quickly rise to their feet. Jester now lowers to one knee, moving in to kiss Iris on the cheek.] JCA: Praise to the Mother. You have made a beautiful disaster of this gold trinket. What shall we destroy next, my sweet? [Iris looks toward her loving, evil Jester. She grins sadistically.] Iris: One. [She nods. Jester joins in with her, now grinning sadistically as well.] Iris: I have one in mind. And I want her tonight. [Out.] _____________________________________________________________________________ |_____________________________________________________________________________| |__ICONOCLASM_________________________________________________________________| Fusion Title Match "VIOLENT" VICTOR FROST -vs- QUINN SCOTT _____________________________________________________________________________ |_________________________________________________________________________SPW_| |_____________________________________________________________________________| [The heavy guitar and drum intro of Marilyn Manson's "Antichrist Superstar" beats through the PA with a force that could cause your insides to tremble, with your only respite being the sounds of a crowd chanting out in-between beats. The in-house crowd, however, doesn't follow with the track's chanting... but rather, spew out their disdain for the man who's coming... and he appears just as the chanting stops, standing right at the entrance, one hand in his pocket, strands of hair covering his face, and a look on his face that is utterly devoid of any manner of feeling.] Stone: The following is set for one fall and is for the Fusion Title! Approaching the ring at this time... From Parkland, Florida... Weighing in at 235... This is QUIIIIIINN... SCOOOOOOOOTT! [HUGE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] "You built me up with your wishing hell... I didnt have to sell you. You threw your money in the pissing well... You do just what they tell you." [While the crowd shouts jeers and cat-calls at Quinn, he acts as if they're not even around. He just walks down the aisle at his own pace, his eyes fixed on the ring and whoever's in it. As a random piece of trash gets thrown at him and beans him in the head, he doesn't stop. He just keeps walking, hand in pocket, hair in face.] "REPEEEEEEEEENT! THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT! I shed the skin to feed the fake REPEEEEEEEEENT! THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT! Whose mistake am I anyway?" [Rolling into the ring, he walks over to a corner and casually pulls his pocketed hand out, revealing a hair-tie. He sloppily pulls his hair back and binds it, but most of the hair in the front of his face still hangs loosely in front of it.] "CUT THE HEAD OFF!" [Reaching into his back pocket, he pulls out two gloves and begins to place them on his hands. On his left hand, he puts on a normal-looking black glove. On his right hand, he puts on a padded shoot-fighting glove.] "GROWS BACK HAAAAARD!" [After pulling both gloves taut and making sure they're secure, he glances at all the people in the ring, slips his left hand back into his pocket, walks out of the corner, and eerily stands there.] "I am the Hydra... NOW YOU'LL SEE YOUR STAAAAAAAAR!!" [Quinn rolls his neck, his eyes still locked on someone, before reaching up to scratch his face a moment. His lips twitches quickly, but he doesn't really do much beyond.] [HUGE CROWD POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [Javier Domingo, wearing his white tuxedo, enters the ring. He wipes some sweat from his pencil-thin mustache before he raises the mic to his face and speaks out with his rich, booming voice:] JD: Senioritas e Seniores, let me introduce, from Dortmund, Alemania, representing La Misa Negra, THE BLACK MASS ... accompanied by la bonita Allegra di Baggio ... the winner of the Fusion Grand Prix and the very first Fuuuuusion Campione! "VIIIIIIOOOOOLENNNNT VIIIIIICTOOOOOOOR FROOOOOOOOOSSSSSSSSSSSST!" [MEGA MONSTROUS HEEL POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [Suddenly, Kurt Russel's shouting voice interrupts the monks:] "HELL'S COMING WITH ME!" [The quote segues right into "Black Mass" by Danzig. The strobe lights make way for a single crimson spotlight, shining on the entrance at the head of the aisle.] "If you call my name It's but one of many by which I'm known The borneless one There is no pain or anger that I am not" [Allegra di Baggio bursts through the curtain carrying the Fusion Title, she moves to side of the stage and does a runway model pose.] "Hell will come He will come Two nails in the palm of the hand Hell will come [Victor Frost follows her out of the back, wearing his ring attire this time. It consists of black spandex trunks covered with stylized white lightning and black wrestling boots with "VF" printed in white letters down the side of the right one. A crimson elbow pad on his right arm and a black vest with "VIOLENT" in crimson letters on its back complete the outfit.] "I press the dagger to the center of my heart Of my heart I draw you close within the circle of my arms Of my arms" [The two Europeans start to saunter down to the ring, Allegra with her catwalk strut, Frost grinning arrogantly at the people flanking the aisle.] "This my spirit hell From me come all things black and bright In the name of the damned My infernal service is at hand" [Gracefully, even in her stiletto heels, Allegra manages to brave the ring steps. Javier Domingo strains against the ropes to allow her to duck inside. Frost follows, his head nodding to the beat as he moves to a turnbuckle and climbs to the second rope. He points at his massive torso with double thumbs and the heel pop he receives comes on strong once more. Di Baggio just stands in the middle of the ring, posing and pouting.] Jack: Quinn Scott in the ring and here comes Victor Frost!! [Frost charges and swings the fist as Quinn pulls back and the massive arm goes right past his head! Scott slams the knee into the stomach and raising up an arm, brings the elbow straight down into Victor's back! Frost goes to a knee and Quinn spins around with the roundhouse kick but Frost ducks it, taking the man up and down with the single leg to his back!!] Sean: Quinn kicks straight up! Right into the jaw! Frost staggering back!! Jim: Victor Frost nailed and trying to right himself, he just doesn't take hits like that! Jack: Scott throws himself into the kip up Dropkick right to the guts!! Sean: OH! Victor blasted back! Quinn with the clothesline no! Swinging around back behind, knee to the spine! Dragon Sleeper and fist to the temple! Quinn spins and HANGMAN'S NECKBREAKER ON VICTOR FROST!! [FANS CHEER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [Frost rolls over, hurting as he grabs his neck with both arms, and Quinn rolls over, moving to stand as he spreads out his arms- then moves to stand still, casually staring at Victor Frost. Allegra paces at ringside as Frost gets up... eyeing Quinn with some trepidation] Jim: And Frost just does not know what to make of this guy. I don't know, he's either completely at peace or a psychopathic maniac with no sense of feeling at all. Sean: Well whatever he is, he hasn't shown any real care or concern about taking any titles or wins at all and how can you prepare for someone like that? Jack: Scott staring down Frost as the German Machine getting up and moving right in, well at least Victor's not scared. Referee motioning for the lockup, and Scott in... no, pulling back! Victor Frost getting more agitated by the minute! [Frost charges and grabs Scott's head, bringing it down to smash the knee but Quinn pulls up as Frost misses his head and goes off balance! Quinn hits an elbow to the back of the head as Victor goes to right himself and Scott kicks him straight in the back! Victor goes into the ropes as Scott slashes the knife edge chop right to the upper back] ***SSSSSMMMMMMMMMMACK!!!!!!*** Jack: Talk about unorthadox! Scott with the head taking the man over for the neckbreaker NO! Frost shoves him off! Quinn turning and VICTOR CLOTHESLINES HIM TO THE MAT!! [CROWD ROARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: THAT GOT HIM! QUINN UP AND VICTOR TAKES HIM OVER INTO THE BODY SLAM!! Jim: OW that'll put your back in traction! Frost now with the head, twisting Scott up to his knees and winding in the clamping neck vice- he's trying to pull his head right off! [Frost shoves down, twisting as Scott gets a knee out- and bridges up to a standing position! Victor instantly grabs the rear waistlock and goes for the german suplex, tossing Quinn over but Scott manages to land on his feet! Frost spins with the forearm smash as Scott takes him right over into the armdrag! The fans in San Diego pop as Victor rolls up and Quinn backhands him across the face! Victor goes to the side as Scott snaps the kick to the midsection and follows through with a roundhouse kick straight across the face!!] [MONSTER FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: Victor staggers back furious as Quinn charges with the flying clothesline! Frost ducks right under and clamps on the Full Nelson! Jack: Spinning around but Scott kicks up off the turnbuckles! Flips over Frost to land back behind! HARD RIGHT CROSS INTO THE BACK OF THE HEAD AND FROST INTO THE CORNER!! [FANS CHEER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: Frost coming back takes a Knee to the Stomach! And Quinn latching on the side headlock, is that a smile from Scott!? Jack: VICTOR SUPLEXING SCOTT INTO THE AIR TO TWIST AND NAIL THE SAITO SUPLEX!! QUINN FOLDED OVER ON HIS HEAD!! [HUGE HEEL POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [Scott rolls over in tremendous pain, kicking his feet as he pushes up, hurting and Frost crashes right into him with a shoulder block, plowing the wrestler right over. The fans all boo out as Victor screams at them to shut up- and as Quinn crawls away, Frost points to San Diego and flips them off as he tells them his title belt is going nowhere!] [CROWD BOOING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] "VICTOR SUCKS!!!!" "VICTOR SUCKS!!!!" "VICTOR SUCKS!!!!" "VICTOR SUCKS!!!!" Jack: Frost not making any friends with his arrogant posturing but he is the Fusion Champ. Now returning as Quinn laid out, stopping to drag him up SCOTT WITH THE TONGAN DEATH GRIP!! [FANS CHEER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [Frost chokes and grabbing Scott by his throat, raises him into the air and Slams the man down with a monstrous Chokeslam!! Quinn rolls over as Victor pauses, holding his neck in pain. Quinn gets up as Victor charges the ropes, coming off to throw the lariat but Scott drops as Frost misses! Victor turns and Quinn dives the shoulder right into the guts!! Scott smashes the uppercut to the chin and slams a haymaker to the stomach! Scott wraps on the keylock and stomping out the knees drops Frost backwards right on his own bent arm!!] [HUGE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: FROST YELLING OUT! DID HE BREAK HIS ARM!? Jim: ALMOST IF HE DIDN'T THEN! Jack: Frost rolling up SCOTT WITH THE ROUNDHOUSE KNEESTRIKE SMASHES HIM OVER!! [Frost screams out as blood runs from his nostrils! His eyes bulge wide as all his veins begin to pop out, the massive German shaking as Quinn's eyes narrow- and Scott charges with the flying kick to the stomach! Frost tightens up and takes the shot without feeling it! The fans scream out as Quinn smashes the overhead backfist to the neck and Frost goes sideways, but regains his ground and screams out again! Scott smashes kick after kick to the stomach and fists to the face, but Victor catches an arm and tearing Quinn into the air over his shoulder, presses the man high overhead and throws him into the ropes!!] [FANS ROAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: SCOTT THROWN INTO THE SIDE AND SMASHES INTO THE MAT!! Jack: FROST CHARGING AND CRASHES THE SHOULDER BLASTING SCOTT OUTTA THE WAY!!! Sean: SCOTT TRYING TO GET UP- FROST SMASHES THE THRUST KICK SENDING HIM RIGHT INTO THE TURNBUCKLES!! [Allegra's eyes flash with fire as she grins, smiling out, Victor Frost shouting out as Quinn shakes with pain. Scott rolls over trying to get up as Victor grabs his throat, turning and throwing Scott over his shoulder to smash him into the canvas! The ring shakes as Quinn lies there, Frost reaching down to lock his neck and pulls him up as Scott tries to break the lock- and going for a finger he tries to pulling the hand off his throat until Frost smashes a fist right to his sternum!!] Sean: SCOTT GOES FLYING!!!!! Jack: OHHH!! Quinn Scott is hurting! His entire body racked with agony! Jim: He wants to survive this match he'd better do something! All he's succeeded in doing in is infuriating the Harsh German!! [Scott crawls away as Victor screams down, wiping blood from his face and telling everyone in San Diego Sports Arena that this is it! Quinn gets up using the ropes for support... as Victor nods... backing to his corner! Scott rises, shaking and Frost charges full speed!! Scott runs and takes to the air!!!] Sean: FLYING DOUBLE KNEE FROM SCOTT RIGHT INTO VICTOR FROST'S FACE!!!!! [FANS SCREAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jim: ALLEGRA!!! [Allegra is up on the apron as Scott turns to see her point and distract the Referee!! Quinn turns back and Victor Frost gutwrenches him up into the Tilt a Whirl Backbreaker!!! Scott bounces into a bridge and collapses as the fans boo out rocking the Sports Arena!! Rolling over, Quinn kicks at the mat in pain as Victor Frost takes to the air and lands the roaring kneedrop, right into the back!] Jim: SON OF A BITCH!! 256 pounds right down into the small of the back!! Sean: DAMN! Jack: Frost dragging Scott up and throwing him into the corner! And now slams a series of fists and elbows into the challenger's stomach and head, violence party as "Violent" Victor Frost with a punch into the guts, elbowstrike to the face, shoulder into the stomach and european uppercut just battering Quinn senseless! Sean: Scott about out on his feet, Frost sensing death and tosses Quinn to the mat!! Jim: Quinn hurting- spits up blood!! Jack: Oh my god most definitely suffering from internal injuries!! Sean: Victor Frost, going for the turnbuckle pad! Oh we've seen this before, and the Referee shouting at Frost to stop but the Fusion Champion lost in his own world!! [Frost pulls at the ropes tying the pad to the corner, and rips it away to expose the metal turnbuckle ring! Quinn begins to rise and collapses, as Victor turns back to wipe blood from his nose and grabs Scott by his leg!! Dragging the man from the canvas, Frost hauls Scott up his shirt, cursing in his face in german- and Scott's eyes roll up- as Quinn smiles!] Jack: What the Sean: SCOTT SLIPS OUT OF HIS SHIRT!! AND SWINGING BACK AROUND BEHIND! JUMPS ON FROST'S BACK AND SLAMMING A SERIES OF MOUNTED PUNCHES INTO THE FACE WITH THE BODYSCISSORS LOCKED ON!! [FANS ROARING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: QUINN SCOTT HITTING FROST WITH EVERYTHING HE'S GOT!!! [Victor tries to fight the arms that are slamming into his face and locking the legs under his arms, rushes backwards! Scott crashes his spine into the metal as the audience pops!!] Sean: Oh man forget about it, Quinn Scott's back may be broken from the full force of that shot into the turnbuckles!! Jack: No kidding! And Scott hurting so much, Frost hauling the man up- into the air and SNAKE EYES INTO THE EXPOSED TURNBUCKLE!!! [CROWD ROARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: OHHH! AND QUINN SCOTT IS OUT! Jack: Victor Frost roaring out as he throws up his arms!! He has put Scott down and he can go for the cover, he can go for the fall! Jim: But no it looks like he's ready to go even further! He wants to send a message to the entire SPW!!! [Scott lays motionless as Victor reaches down, grabbing him by his neck as Quinn doesn't move. Sneering in victory, Frost raises a gloved hand to the air, and goes for the irish whip into the ropes but Scott can't even run and collapses! Victor laughs and wrapping the half nelson in, locks the wrist as he hauls Scott over into the front carry pickup, and heading to the corner steps on the second rope to get some height as he stands -stepping to the top rope and shouting out as the entire Sports Arena are on their feet... hefts Scott over his shoulders!] [CROWD ROARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: FROST GOING FOR THE VIOLATOR FROM THE TOP ROPE!!!!!!!!!!!!! Sean: SCOTT ROLLING OVER HIS HEAD!! HE HAS THE FORCED INTERNAL DECAPITATION ON VICTOR FROST!!!! Jim: WHO NOW HAS TO BALANCE CARRYING ALL OF SCOTT'S 235 POUNDS- AS HIS HEAD BEING CRUSHED INTO HIS CHEST!! [FANS SCREAMING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [Frost's legs begin to shake as Quinn is latched onto his head and chest, arms and legs wrapped around Victor's as all of Scott's weight is forcing Victor's head forward!! Victor can't move and doesn't want to fall for fear of breaking his neck!! The fans are roaring out as Frost has no choice but to take a step down, and then another step- as the Referee begins a five count!!] Sean: FROST'S HEAD BEING PULLED FORWARDS OFF ITS SPINAL COLUMN!!! Referee: TWO!!!!!!! Jim: F.I.D. AND QUINN SCOTT HANGING ON!!! THIS COULD BE A CAREER ENDING INJURY! Referee: THREEE!!!!! Jack: FOUR- SCOTT BREAKS THE HOLD!!! [CROWD POPS HUGE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [Victor rolls over clutching at the back of his head as Quinn Scott is down, arm over the bottom rope. The fans in San Diego are cheering as Frost tries to get his head back in control, the sound of the crowd ringing in his ears. Scott pushes up, and Victor rolls away, fighting to get back to his feet! Quinn forces up- and charges Frost who ducks low and catches Scott right over into the powerslam but as he takes him into the air Scott's left hand shoots out catching Frost's throat in the Tongan Death Grip!!! Quinn hits the mat on his back, and nearly rips Victor's throat out in the process!!!!] [CROWD SCREAMS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: BOTH MEN DOWN BUT SCOTT HANGING ONTO VICTOR'S NECK!!!! Jim: GOOD LORD THAT WAS A SPLIT SECOND COUNTER!! QUINN SCOTT TRYING TO KILL THIS MAN! DOES HE CARE!? IS HE EVEN HUMAN! Jack: SCOTT ROLLING OVER, TONGAN DEATH GRIP STILL IN SECURE!! FROST WITH NO AIR!!!! Sean: UNCOMFORTABLY NUMB!!!!! AND VICTOR FROST ON HIS KNEES!! [Scott rises up, hand wrapped in tight as Victor is in the center of the ring!! The fans are screaming out as Victor has the wrist by both hands- and real fear is showing in his eyes!! Allegra is screeching out as Frost shoves to his feet- and reaching in to grab the stomach, presses Scott into the air and throws him over top to bounce the man right on the top of his skull with the Dortmund Driver!!!!!] [FANS SCREAMING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: DORTMUND DRIVER! DORTMUND DRIVER!!! Jack: AND THE HOLD IS FINALLY BROKEN!!!!!!!!! Jim: VICTOR FROST COLLAPSING ON TOP OF QUINN SCOTT!!!! 1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 3!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [MONSTER FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Stone: AND YOUR WINNER! AND STIILLLL FUSION CHAMPION!! "VIOLENT!" VICTOR!!!!! FRRRRROSSSSSST!!!!!!!!! [THUNDEROUS CROWD POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: VICTOR FROST IS THE WINNER OF THIS FIGHT! Jim: THIS MATCH HAS NEARLY TAKEN THE LIFE OUT OF BOTH MEN!! Jack: WHAT A FIGHT! WHAT A FIGHT FROM QUINN SCOTT AND VICTOR FROST!!! Sean: BUT FROST STILL CHAMPION!! AND THESE TWO ALMOST KILLED EACH OTHER!!! [Scott lays unconscious as Victor is down and out, Allegra climbing in with the Fusion Title Belt to drape it over Frost as the fans are roaring out across the San Diego Sports Arena. The Referee kneels and points to the Fusion Champion as the fans give both Superstars a standing ovation!!] _____________________________________________________________________________ |_____________________________________________________________________________| |__ICONOCLASM_________________________________________________________________| [A stairwell backstage. The off white paint is peeling off the cinderblock wall and rust stains dot the wall underneath the handrail. Sitting at the bottom of the stairs is tween-ish girl. Her brown hair is all over the place and, largely, obscures her face. She's almost a "mini-Angst;" a pair of camouflage cargo shorts, a white tee shirt and heavy, black combat boots. A large cross hangs around her neck and she's cradling an old porcelain doll in her lap. Underneath her mess of hair she smiles one of those creepy child ghost smiles.] G: Goosey, Goosey Gander... [The mini-Angst strokes the coarse horsehair of her doll.] ... wither shall I wander? [The girl begins to loosely braid her doll's hair.] Upstairs and downstairs and in my Lady's chamber. [She holds the doll up and inspects it.] G: There I met an old man who wouldn't say his prayers. [An evil, malicious smile begins to spread across her face.] So I took him by his left leg and threw him down the stairs. [She laughs, softly. Fade.] _____________________________________________________________________________ |_________________________________________________________________________SPW_| |_____________________________________________________________________________| [Fade to the comfort suites as Kieran Rae is sitting alongside Gideon Cain and Henry Spikes up in Cain's private skybox. Kieran is staring directly ahead as Gideon takes a pause, taking up a black jeweled bottle covered in diamonds and sparking semi-precious stones. Wearing a modest white chambray shirt, the aging entrepeneur leans back, motioning as his servant comes forward, three Kolo glasses on a silver tray. Gideon smiles at both Rae and Spikes.] Gideon: AJ Black once said to me, you know it feels great to be working together, it really feels like we're partners in this together. We were at my vacation house in Lake Aspen. And I had invited the new CEO of my company to my house and he had a great sense of vision, a diehard purpose, and a true knowledge of where he wanted to take Shootfire Pro Wrestling. [Cain's smiles fades.] Gideon: But rather than allow him to continue on, full of wonderment and unbridled happiness, I had to say something on that Lake shore that he never forgot. Do you know what that was? Please. [Turning to look up he takes his glass, filled halfway with Vodka. He motions to Henry and Kieran, as both take their glasses and Gideon smiles with an ageless wisdom, looking down at the alcohol swirling in his hand.] Gideon: Before you answer, I want you think on this. When it comes to vodka, the first thing that comes to mind is Russia. Surprisingly, the most expensive vodka comes from the lands of Scotland. The Diva Vodka is the world’s most expensive vodka which almost looks like a perfume bottle. Every bottle of the Diva Vodka contains precious and semi-precious stones, including diamonds. The vodka is triple distilled and then passed through a sand of crushed diamonds and other semi-precious gems. This bottle, in itself, is worth 1,060,000. Henry: I don't even want to drink this, this is worth more than I am. Gideon: Please, it's only Vodka. Henry: Well, I mean if you insist. Gideon: We're about to sit back and watch a World Heavyweight Championship Match. But no matter what, if this last year hasn't told us the most important lesson of all. You cannot put a price on human life. Human capital. Things are things are things are things. There will always be a price, a value put on material things. But what really matters the most is the human psyche, the human spirit, the human ingenuity. The same creative fire that first incited man to build the wheel. That thought, that spark, that inspiration is something you cannot hold in your hands, and thus, cannot be traded back and forth, for any amount of money. Drink up. [Henry looks down at the sparkling scottish vodka, and drinks just enough to still remain polite. Kieran's eyes raise, staring through her lashes as she stares at Cain dead on.] Kieran: You told him it wasn't his. Gideon: Excuse me? Kieran: You told him it wasn't his federation anymore. AJ. You told him Shootfire Pro belonged to you. [Cain smiles.] Gideon: Absolutely, I did. Because in convincing me to buy SPW, he handed off all the stress, powers and pressures that come with sustaining his company... those including the copyrights and intellectual property that came with it, its tape library and its recorded history past and present, all belonged to me. But he didn't understand that I took that to allow him the freedom of being creative, secure that all his years put into this federation wouldn't go to waste. You see, by reminding him he need not concern himself with keeping this company alive, no matter the fortunes of economies to come, he had the utmost freedom to be able to visualize and direct Shootfire Pro Wrestling. The same freedom and creativity I now bestow on you two. If you can maintain your authority, I am confident in your vision. [Kieran smirks, and takes a deep drink, exhaling through clenched teeth as the fire burns her throat.] Gideon: Just be warned, while inspiration may be free, the power to use it does not. If you can survive, you get the chance to lead. If you fail, well, they keep making new bottles of this stuff. Hopefully the two of you will be sitting here come Christmas when I open a Two Million dollar bottle of Cognac ...if not... Salude. [Henry lifts his glass and dipping his head, takes another drink as Kieran's blackberry goes off quietly in her chest pocket. Wiping her lip, Kieran stands up, placing the glass back on its tray.] Kieran: If you'll excuse me gentlemen, I have business matters to attend. Thank you sir. Henry. [Kieran gets up and quickly leaves the room, face drained to white as Gideon turns back, eyes sparkling as he nods to Henry.] Gideon: One to watch eh? Henry: Yes sir. A natural. Scottish huh? No kidding. [Gideon turns back to watch the show...] Gideon: No kidding. _____________________________________________________________________________ |_____________________________________________________________________________| |__ICONOCLASM_________________________________________________________________| World Heavyweight Title Match SAMMY KNIGHT -vs- ANDREW DAVIS _____________________________________________________________________________ |_________________________________________________________________________SPW_| |_____________________________________________________________________________| [The lights drop throughout the San Diego Sports Arena. Cell phones rise up into the air, pictures flash, and the anticipation is palpable. The SPWTron alights, an image of “Flaming” Bob Muretic, holding aloft the Shootfire World Title. The calming voice of Billy Crudup narrates the video, he of Mastercard commercials and Mission: Impossible 3 fame.] Narrator: On October 31st, 1999, “Flaming” Bob Muretic became the very first Shootfire World Champion. In nearly a decade of it’s existence, the belt has only been held by twenty men. [A video of Adam Cage standing over top of Ian Lightfoot and Axel Schmidt, the title thrown over his shoulder, replaced by Axel Schmidt standing over top of Adam Cage. Next, a bloody Thomas Palmer, leaning against a razorwire cage, the referee handing the title to him. Music starts in the background, “Run This Town” by Jay-Z, featuring Rihanna and Kanye West.] "Feel it coming in the air Hear the screams from everywhere I’m addicted to the thrill (I’m Ready) It’s a dangerous love affair (C’mon) Can’t be scaring nickels down Got a problem, tell me now Only thing that’s on my mind" Narrator: Blood. Broken bones. Trips to the emergency room. Shortened careers. Shortened life spans. [A flash of the next champions, Axel Schmidt again, followed by Havoc, Mike Waldrop, Mike Waldrop again, and then the “Asshole” Andy Simmons, holding the title as a dejected Fury walks up the aisle, following the fallen “Cream of the Crop.”] "Is who gon’ run this town tonight Is who gon’ run this town tonight We gon’ run this town tonight" Narrator: Hundreds have quested for the belt, but only few have been to the top of the mountain in Shootfire. [Now, Adam Cage stands on the second rope in the corner, the SPW World title high above his head, replaced by Roddy Taylor in the exact same pose. At the entrance to the SPWTron stands “The Reaper” Damien Norton’s enormous form, dwarfing the belt. Next, Norton lies on the mat, being pinned by “The Purist” Greg Brians.] "We are, yeah, I said it, we are This is Roc Nation, pledge your allegiance Get y’all fatigues on, all black everything Black cards, black cars, all black everything And our girls are blackbirds, riding with they Dillingers" Narrator: And while the world champions have been few, the multiple winners have been fewer. [Jeff Keenan celebrating with the belt over Jean Paul Valley, then the image flipped with JPV over Keenan. JPV falls next, with Corey Irons celebrating his only title reign. A flash of images: Valley again, Owen Barrett, Keenan again, followed by Andrew Davis, standing in the middle of the Thunderdome Cage, SPW World Title over his right shoulder, close to tears.] "I get more in-depth if you boys really real enough This is La Famila, I’ll explain later But for now, let me get back to this paper I’m a couple bands down and I’m tryna get back I gave Doug a grip, I lost a flip for five stacks Yeah, I’m talking five comma six zeroes dot zero Back to running circles ‘round niggas, now we squared up Hold up" Narrator: Axel Schmidt, Adam Cage, Mike Waldrop, Jeff Keenan, Jean Paul Valley, and Larry Gionet all won the title twice. Most of these men became Shootfire Legends and were inducted into the Hall of Fame. [AsH standing in the corner of the ring, a fallen Andrew Davis staring a hole through him, the title in AsH’s hands. Then Andrew Davis with the pin on AsH, Kieran Rae in the background, shocked at what has happened. Larry Gionet forcing Andrew to tap out in front of the Tokyo Dome at Ringu Faia. Gionet dejectedly watching Steve Greedy celebrate with the World Title at Internecine.] "Life’s a game but it’s not fair I break the rules so I don’t care So I keep doing my own thing Walking tall against the rain Victory’s within the mile Almost there, don’t give up now Only thing that’s on my mind Is who gon’ run this town tonight" [Larry Gionet holds the title high again, having just defeated Dave Pietka, Sabbath, AsH, and Despair inside the Hell in the Cell match. Next, he is on the mat, holding his head, “Evil Voodoo” Dave strutting around the ring, title over his shoulder. Finally, Sammy Knight holds the SPW World Title over his shoulder, embracing his son Darrion, dream finally realized.] Narrator: Tonight, history is at stake. Will Sammy Knight keep his title, or will Shootfire see it’s very first three-time world champion? "We gon’ run this town tonight We gon’ run this town tonight We gon’ run this town tonight" Narrator: Sammy Knight’s opponent: none other than the Hollywood Hero… Jack: This is Davis’ entrance? How long has this been going on? Twenty minutes? Jim: It’s a PPV baby, this is how Shootfire rolls! Sean: I drive a used Volvo! Narrator: The Lightweight Legend, Shootfire’s Savior, a Grand Slam Champion, and soon to be inducted into Shootfire’s Hall of Fame… [The music changes to a familiar tune…] "Flashing Lights" ___D___ [MEGA MONSTER HEEL POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: You can have all the pomp and circumstances you want, and these people still hate Andrew Davis! [The screen fills with Andrew’s highlights from the past two seasons: drilling Dave Pietka through a barb-wire wrapped table at Charity Carnage, jamming Victor Frost’s head into the mat with an A.D.D., Davis smashing Sammy Knight’s cast, stomping on it as hard as he can. “Flashing Lights” continues.] "Flashing Lights" ___A___ "Flashing Lights" ___V___ "Flashing Lights" ___I___ [More highlights: smashing Spooky Doom with the Last Looks, drilling Frank Ewiak with the Headshot then hooking the leg, and perfecting the Davisplex on James O’Connor!] ___S___ Narrator: He stands on the precipice of greatness, the edge of history. He is… ANDREW DAVIS. [ABSOLUTELY CRAZY HEEL POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: Wait, who just came out of the entrance way, HOLY SHIT IT’S KANYE WEST! Jim: THE SECOND BIGGEST HEEL IN AMERICA PERFORMING “FLASHING LIGHTS” LIVE AT ICONOCLASM! [The camera pulls back to see blue lights shoot out as the arena lights are dark, smoke and fog creeping out on stage, as the man in black is crooning out amid a full scale rock band! Next to stage an elevated platform as musicians raise their guitars and play them loud, an Andrew Davis rock remix as the audience roars their heads off!!!!!] "She don't believe in shootin' stars, But she believe in shoes & cars Wood floors in the new apartment, Couture from the store's department" [The lights flicker and flash, electrifying the audience as waves of white light cascade down across the SPWTron, covering the crowd in rays of light! The grinning face of Andrew Davis can be seen in live and living color, in huge fashion as the Hollywood Hero smiles from the Shootfire Screens!!!] “You more like L'eau de Stardee shit, I'm more of the, trips to Florida Order the hors d'oeuvres, views of the Water Straight from the page of your favorite author!" [The guitars blare as the screen’s brightest, golden fireworks explode from around the edge of the stage, and "D A V I S" reappears on the screen. Standing underneath the golden letters and fireworks, bathed in golden light, back facing the crowd, is "The Lightweight Legend" Andrew Davis. His right arm straight in the air, Davis is wearing white tights with rhinestones running up and down the legs, specially designed for him by Dolce & Gabbana, with the letters "DAVIS" written across the back, naturally, gold. Black and white boots with "AD" written in cursive and D&G sunglasses complete the ensemble as Andrew Davis turns around motioning for the Championship belt!!] [HUGE HEEL POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] "And the weather so breezy, Man why can't life always be this easy She in the mirror dancing so sleazy, I get a call like where are you Yeezy" Try to hit you with a 'Oeur de Whopee' Till I get flashed by the paparazzi Damn, these nigga's got me, I hate these nigga's more than the Nazis" [Andrew Davis slowly pans around the arena, taking in the blistering hate from the fans as neon laser lights beam through the smoky density of the creeping fog. Shootfire’s second Grand Slam Champion starts to walk down to the ring, "D A V I S" flashing on the SPWTron, as he slaps hands with West, the laser light show causing a minor strobe effect. Andrew appears on the ramp, disappears, then appears a few feet closer, the gold light reflecting off his D&G sunglasses as the World Title Contender makes his way towards the ring, greatness, walking into history…] [CROWD BOOING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] "As I recall I know you love to show off, But I never thought that you would take it this far- But what do I know?" "Flashing lights, lights" "What do I know? "Flashing lights, lights" [Making sure to stay arms length away from the crowd, Andrew walks up the ropes and pauses on the apron, taking in the adoration. Significantly amused, he steps through the ropes and into the ring. The SPWTron plays footage from Charity Carnage, Davis hitting the 540 Degree Swanton from the ring to drive a chair through a barbed-wire wrapped Dave Pietka through a broadcast table! Walking to the corner, Davis leaps to the second rope, and holds his arms out as he ducks down low, pointing to himself with both thumbs and telling everyone in San Diego and watching at home just how great he is!!! The rock guitars rage as Davis points out across the arena, dropping down as he goes for the center of the ring!!] "As you recall, you know I love to show off But you never thought that I would take it this far What do you know?" "Flashing lights" "What do you know?" "Flashing lights, lights" [As the lights come up and the stage darkens… Andrew dramatically takes off his D&G sunglasses and stands over the SPW logo in the center of the ring… the lights still flashing, the fans still screaming, the music still pulsing throughout the arena. He demands the World Title, signaling for his waist for the final time, pointing to the Superstar who deserves it for the third time!!!] [MEGA MASSIVE HEEL POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: Andrew Davis standing insdie the center of the ring, now ready and waiting... everything he is is riding on this match. Everything he has fought for, this is the night he seeks to capitalize... and finally realize his dream. Jim: NOT if Sammy Knight has anything to say about it. Sean: And this is it, this is the fight that Davis and Sammy have wanted for so long,... and we will love to see Sammy finally get his hands on the Davis!! [The lights go black as a series of white spotlights begin to shine throughout the San Diego Sports Arena. As the lights erratically scan the crowd, a single siren blares over the capacity crowd as the first notes of Nas' "Hero" begin to blare throughout the loudspeakers!] "Chain gleaming Switching lanes Two-seating Hate him or love him" [The word 'S A M M Y' in bright silver lights flashes on the SPWTron] "For the same reason Can't leave it The games needs him Plus the people need someone to believe in" [The word 'K N I G H T' follows] "So in God's Son we trust 'Cause they know I'm gonna give 'em what they want They looking for... a hero I guess that makes me... a hero" [All of sudden, the scanning spotlights converge on the entrance to the arena, forming one light as an individual walks out of the backstage arena. _THAT_ individual is none other than Sammy Knight - no longer Sanguine - with a gray hooded sweatshirt pulled over his head and his SPW World Title proudly draped across his shoulder and over his heart. Suddenly he pulls of his hood, revealing the absolutely focus visage of the SPW champion and icon.] [MASSIVE FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] BOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [Gold colored fireworks explode throughout the arena as Knight pounds his chest with his right hand against his treasured belt. Knight takes a couple steps towards the crowd and holds the belt proudly with his right hand - almost as if he is gesturing to the fans that "_THIS_ is because of _YOU_." Knight mouths "Thank You" to the capacity crowd as he begins to menacingly bob his head up and down.] "Another chapter of the cleanest rapper Distinguished gentlemen Crooks and castle on his back Maybach-er, exotic lady eye-catcher Holla at'cha, call me the chiropractor Working like Muay Thai class Get perspire out ya" [Knight has a look that can be described as nothing except determined. Sweat already glistens across Knight's face as he begins to make his way to the ring; each step planted with the essence of grit.] "And of course I've been the boss since back when Rocking D Boy, Fila, velour in 190 black Benz Now they shut down the stores when I'm shopping Used to be train robbing, face covered in stocking I'm him" [As Knight walks to the ring, there is a distinct bounce, or swag in his step. Focusing directly on the ring in front of him, Knight appreciatively slaps his supporters hands, hugging a few, and obviously feeding off the amazing energy in the arena this night.] "Chain gleaming Switching lanes Two-seating Hate him or love him" [Explosion of fireworks as the arena lights up!] "For the same reason Can't leave it The games needs him Plus the people need someone to believe in" [Explosion of fireworks as smoke fills the rafters of the arena.] "So in God's Son we trust 'Cause they know I'm gonna give 'em what they want They looking for... a hero I guess that makes me... a hero" [As Knight reaches a few feet from the ringside area, he runs at a full sprint and slides headfirst into the ring. Once inside, he immediately bounces to his feet and jumps, stomping hard on the ring beneath him. Holding both of his arms out, championship belt firmly gripped in his right hand, Knight screams out at the top of his lungs.] [CROWD ROARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] "Rubber-grip-holder, reloader Come at me I'ma rip your soliders in half Silverback ape, nickle-plated mag Young, rich, and flashy Young, bitch, I'm nasty All black clothes til ice lay on me so classy And every time I close my lids" [Knight runs to one corner of the ring and Knight, with both hands above his head throws up an "S", obviously for the first letter of his name. As his hands raise to the crowd, fireworks explode down from the scaffolding above forming a lighted blast in the shape of an "S" above the crowd.] "I can still see the borough, I can still see the Bridge I can still see the dreams that my niqqas ain't never lived to see Tell them angels open the door for me From nine berettas and moving raw To chilling in wine cellars Sticks and humidors" [Knight runs to the corner diagonal corner and does the same, throwing up the "S" once more as fans do likewise. The "S" explosives ring out again. The cameras go to the cheering fans in the crowd as a kid is shown being lifted up by his parent, a red Sammy Knight bandanna on his head. Signs wave out across the Sports Arena and the audience roars out as the crowd is fully behind their World Champion!] [FANS CHEERING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] "That's what I call mature That's what I call a G That's what I call a pimp That's what I call a gangsta To the fullest, shit I try to make more cream By every September 14th, that's my dream So I can be more clean, as I grow yearly I can see things more clearly That's why they fear me" [Sammy jumps off the ropes, stomping down hard on the ring below him once again! Knight smiles proudly and humbly as he surveys what feels like every single one of his fans in the crowd tonight!! Knight raises up the golden World Championship, pointing to Andrew Davis and shaking his head- pointing to the fans of SPW and proclaiming this title is for them!!] "Chain gleaming Switching lanes Two-seating Hate him or love him" For the same reason Can't leave it The games needs him Plus the people need someone to believe in" [Knight bounces with an aura of confidence as the chorus of the song kicks in! Moving to the ropes, he pulls on the top to test its give. Smiling out, Knight prepares mentally to compete in perhaps the most grueling matchup of his life, but will not give Andrew Davis the satisfaction of getting any advantage whatsoever. Davis stands in the darkness… waiting, watching as the World Champ moves inside the ring.] "So in God's Son we trust 'Cause they know I'm gonna give 'em what they want They looking for... a hero I guess that makes me... a hero" [As the ring attendant comes over to the side of the ring, Knight carefully hands them the SPW World Title. Knight then takes off his sweatshirt, raising it above his head! He climbs up to stand on the second rope, leg over the top… and looking out across the thousands of screaming fans- Sammy throws his red sweatshirt out to the fans as they rush for it! Sammy nods, smiling and he raises his fist, pounds his chest to show love for this capacity crowd!] [FANS CHEER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] "This universal apartheid I'm hog-tied, the corporate side Blocking y'all from going to stores and buying it First L.A. and Doug Morris was riding wit it But Newsweek article startled big wigs They said, Nas, why is he trying it? My lawyers only see the Billboard charts as winning Forgetting - Nas the only true rebel since the beginning Still in musical prison, in jail for the flow Try telling Bob Dylan, Bruce, or Billy Joel They can't sing what's in their soul" [Knight leans over the side of ropes, smiling as he throws his sweatshirt into the crowd!! He then shows off a black armband on his right bicep reading 'M.B.!' Sammy points to the sky and thanks his former mentor as he walks to the center of the ring, then points straight down at the SPW letters and rises, hefting his title belt over his shoulder as the most popular Champion in the history of Shootfire Pro smiles beaming confidence and dedication.] [HUUUGE FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] "So untitled it is I never change nothin' But people remember this If Nas can't say it, think about these talented kids With new ideas being told what they can and can't spit I can't sit and watch it So, shit, I'ma drop it Like it or not You ain't gotta cop it I'm a hustler in the studio Cups of Don Julio No matter what the CD called I'm unbeatable, y'all" [Knight then moves to the center of ring, standing amidst the SPW logo places both hands behind his back, head facing down. His lips can be seen moving, as if he's speaking, almost as if he's saying a prayer. As the song begins to fade, Knight pounds his fist once more against his heart and then raises it into the air, but with his index finger, in symbol of his son Darrion, extended.] Sean: And now we go up to the ring for the official match introductions, this is for the big prize, we pulled it early as we could with only the Women’s World Title fight to come before the Deathwish Cage Match, that will give us enough time to check and clear Knight for the main event… but right now it is finally time for Knight versus Davis, let’s go now to Steve Stone with ring introductions. [Fade up to the ring as Steve smiles and Cartwright nods, standing by in his black and white striped shirt and black dress pants, Stone in a full tuxedo as he checks his card and begins…] Stone: AND NOW MYRIAD CAPITAL MANAGEMENT AND THE ARENA GROUP 2000 JOINTLY PRESENT SHOOTIFRE HISTORY, THIS BOUT IS CONTENDED UNDER OFFICIAL RULES SET BY THE SPW CHAMPIONSHIP COMMITTEE SINCE 1999 AND SANCTIONED BY THE CALIFORNIA STATE ATHLETIC COMMISSION... THE REFEREE FOR THIS MATCH IS CHRIS CARTWRIGHT... THE TIMEKEEPER, AMBER RHIANNON... LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, FANS OF SHOOTFIRE PRO WRESTLING… THE FOLLOWING IS FOR THE HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP OF THE WORLD!! [CROWD ROARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] AND NOW, INTRODUCING FIRST! FROM MALIBU, CALIFORNIA, STANDING AT 5 FOOT 10, HE WEIGHED IN THIS MORNING AT AT 210 POUNDS, HE IS A SHOOTFIRE GRAND SLAM CHAMPION, MEANING A WINNER OF THE SPW PLATINUM, DIAMOND, WORLD TAG, AND A TWO TIME WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION... THE HOLLYWOOD HERO, THE LIGHTWEIGHT LEGEND, AND THE SELF-PROCLAIMED SAVIOR OF SHOOTFIRE PROFESSIONAL WRESTLING… AAAAANNNNNDREW DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAVISSSSS!!!!!!!!!!! [MASSIVE MONSTROUS HEEL POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Stone: AND HIS OPPONENT; [MONSTER FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Stone: HE HAILS FROM COMPTON CALIFORNIA, STANDING 6 FOOT 4 AND HE WEIGHED IN THIS MORNING AT 250 POUNDS, HE IS A SHOOTFIRE ICON… AND A WORLD TAG TEAM CHAMPION, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, PLEASE WELCOME THE DEFENDING AND INDISPUTED SPW HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION OF THE WORRLLLD!!!! [CROWD CHEERING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] THIS IS SAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMMY! KNIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHT!!!!!!!!! [MEGA MONSTER FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: Sammy Knight in the ring, and has the World Title in hand. He is ready to fight as Andrew Davis in the ring as well, upset and infuriated the Invaders turned on him and refused to be his gang of thieves to earn him his title shot. I think we're really beginning to see what the Invaders are all about as it's clear they do not swear allegiance to Davis and have made it clear with this insurrection of sorts. Andrew Davis deserves everything he's received but now comes the other half the war- if Knight goes to the extreme to defend his title belt will he be in any shape, to be in any use for the cage at all? Jim: No but Davis will fight tooth and nail to become the first ever Three Time World Champion. How can Sammy defend his World Championship first, and then half anything left to even get in that cage? I mean it's clear he doesn't trust anyone except himself to defend SPW, talk about ego getting in the way, being a Champion for over a year I think he believes his own press. Sean: Jim now that's not fair, and completely untrue. Knight has proven time in and time again that he is a great wrestler and future legend in this business, the stuff of the Hall of Fame and no one questions his morals or values. Jim: Then why was Knight allowed to pull double duty and Spooky Doom wasn't!? Knight's own ego and pride could cost SPW the Deathwish Cage Match and I don't care who he is it's arrogant at worst and stupid at best. Jack: Sammy Knight will do whatever it takes to defend that title and be a hero all of us can look up to and admire. The man is a consummate professional and I dare anyone to match his record. He has been World Champion for over a year now, he is the indisputed best at what he does and this is his chance to finally get his hands on Andrew Davis. Davis has been on a crime spree but he can run no longer- whoever walks out of this thing, deserves it. Wrestling fans, the first half of your double main event, World Title Match Knight vs Davis, this is Iconoclasm and it's happening right now. Our Referee, Chris Cartwright in the ring, explaining the rules and calling for the bell-- ******DING DING DING****** [HUGE FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: And here we go.... Knight and Davis circling, Andrew telling him to kiss his title goodbye. Trying to work over his senses and- [FANS CHEER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: SAMMY WITH A FIST TO THE MOUTH!! [Davis drops holding his jaw! The audience roars out as Sammy yells down, and Andrew grabs his mouth, holding his jaw in pain as Knight kicks him in the chest! Sammy drags Davis up and whirling around- runs him into the ropes and picking him up, drops him with the Saito Suplex right on the back of his head!!] Jim: SAITO SUPLEX! KNIGHT GOING STRONG STYLE TO TRY AND FINISH DAVIS OFF QUICKLY!! Sean: I think you're right Jim! His entire gameplan may have changed but all bets are off! Andrew rolling over in horrible pain as Sammy Knight grabbing on the cobra clutch! Shaking Davis around, Andrew flailing out!! Jack: Davis trying for the ropes, Knight throws him at the ring! Swings the clothesline- Davis ducked leaps and ADHD FLYING HANGMAN'S NECKBREAKER!! [CROWD POPS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: ANDREW CRAWLING UP! [Davis shakes his head, still holding his mouth as Sammy pushes up, hurting as he grabs his neck. Knight climbs to his feet and Andrew slams into him with both arms, crashing him over as the audience boos! Davis throws down the stomp, boot right into the ribs as Sammy hits the mat, and Davis falls dropping the elbow to keep him down] Jack: Knight trying to get up and Andrew with the cravate in, twisting the head back to give himself some time to recover. Sean: He's going to have to keep that hold on, if he wants to prevent Sammy Knight from coming at him to kill. These fans here in San Diego really want to see Knight destroy him and I think most everyone on the roster does too. [Davis yells out at the jeering fans, telling them all where they can stick it- until Knight punches into his kneecap! Andrew drops down as Knight shoves him into the mat with a hammerlock. Rolling over, Davis sits up, to get the knees out and Sammy locks on with the chickenwing as Andrew fights to his feet. Reaching back, he slams the elbow to the head!!] Jack: Davis battling to get free, and running across the ring! Sammy charging right after, slams the kitchen sink kneelift sending Davis into a Front FLIP!! [CROWD POPS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: Andrew up and SAMMY WHIPS HIM AT THE ROPES! KNIGHT INTO THE SIDE, DAVIS OFF AND SAMMY KNIGHT SHOULDER TACKLE SMASHING HIM OUTTA THE AIR!!!!! [MONSTER FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: DAVIS SENT SIDEWAYS! OH MAN KNIGHT SCRAMBLED HIM INSIDE OUT!!! Jim: AND SAMMY KNIGHT GOING TO THE FANS- TELLING THEM THE TITLE STAYS HERE! [FANS CHEER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [Davis gets up, holding his shoulder as he curses out in spite. Knight turns to face him and Andrew goes right to the ropes, holding on as he yells at the Ref to get out of his face. Cartwright demands they wrestle and Andrew Davis would rather not, walking along the side of the ring using the rope as a guide. Sammy waits, impatiently in the center of the ring, and throws up his arms to get the crowd completely on his side!!] [MONSTROUS FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jim: And San Diego wants to see Knight squash Davis but Andrew will have none of it. You know I don't think that Andrew Davis came back to Hollywood to be a celebrity or a showman, he just wants that title and he's wrestling for himself. Not the fans, and especially not the Invaders after they ditched him earlier tonight. He truly is in there on his own wheras Knight has over 50,000 screaming fans. That in itself might make all the difference. Sean: Sammy Knight not losing focus for a minute, he is in it to keep the World Title and put down Andrew Davis once and for all. And then after that, on to the Deathwish Cage Match to put down the Invaders as well. Can he do it, does he really have what it takes? Jack: Well it really depends how much Davis wants this. Andrew to the center and Sammy reaching for the lockup! Davis tentative, working out his arm, and moving in, no pulls back he doesn't [CROWD BOOS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: DAVIS REFUSING TO LOCK Jack: SAMMY CLOTHESLINES HIM DOWN!! [FANS CHEER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: ANDREW UP! SAMMY CLOTHESLINES HIM HEAD OVER HEELS!!! [MONSTER POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: ANDREW UP! SAMMY WITH THE WRIST IRISH WHIP AND THE PICKUP INTO THE AIR TURNS AND JAMS THE BLUE THUNDER BOMB!! [MASSIVE FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jim: AND ANDREW DAVIS ROLLS RIGHT OUT OF THE RING! [MEGA GIGANTIC HEEL POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [Davis stumbles away, heading around the ring as he wants no part of the World Champion! The audience is on their feet, leering in his face as they boo, hissing out to mock and threaten the challenger! Andrew shouts at them to shut up, inciting the ringside fans even further as Sammy Knight slides out in the background. Davis sees him coming and begins to head away as Knight begins to chase! Andrew runs around the ring and dives inside with Sammy coming in right after. Andrew jumps and smashes the double axe into the back, flailing away with fists pounding into Knight who fights to get up, withstanding the attack, pulls the single leg and jumps on Davis slinging lefts and rights of his own!!] [CROWD ROARING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: DAVIS IT'S ALL HE CAN DO TO COVER!! AND KICKS KNIGHT OFF! Sean: Oh, Sammy to his feet, Andrew limping up, Sammy for the leg and pickup for the Spinebuster, no Davis into the ropes, hooks the cable as the Ref saying break- in to pull the World Champ off OH DAVIS POKES HIS EYE!! [HUGE HEEL POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: ANDREW GRABS THE HAIR WITH BOTH HANDS AND RIPS KNIGHT OFF HIS BOOTS! THE BACK OF HIS HEAD SLAMMED INTO THE MAT!! [Davis laughs despite himself and reaching down, pulls Knight up to his knees and securing the head, goes for the ADD DDT but Sammy turns inside out of it to take the arm over and snap Andrew into the front facelock for the Piru Love- but Andrew Davis is able to counter with a Bridging Northern Lights Suplex!!] [CROWD ROARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: DAVIS EXECUTES THE SUPLEX HE HAS THE BRIDGE! 1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [FANS CHEER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: And Davis to his knees and claps his hands at the Referee, telling him how to count to three. Andrew shoving up, and taking up the knee- lifting Sammy into the air and JAMMING the leg down as hard as he can! Davis now with that leg and taking a page out of Knight's own playbook, kicking that leg and thigh, stomping into the bone and sinew, doing whatever he can to hurt that knee, injure that limb and finally STOMPS it down into the canvas, now Andrew Davis mocking Sammy as our Champion trying valiantly to get back to his feet. Jack: Yes indeed, as we and the world watches Sammy Knight try to fight back to a vertical base, Davis right in there to slam his hip right into Sammy's face, oh right in the nose! No love lost between these two, as if anyone watching doesn't know that already. Jim: Andrew Davis now taking up the single leg, and stepping over to hold the ankle under his arm, he sits down yes! The Davis Ex Machina!! Half Crab modified version and Andrew Davis has the submission hold really locked in! [FANS BOOING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: And Sammy Knight nowhere near the ropes. You know this man Andrew Davis so great at what he does, it's a shame he tries to accomplish his personal goals without care to morals or a sense of what's right, he's an incredible talent. Jim: Well tell us something we don't already know. See I love this move, because Andrew slowing things down, allowing himself a breather, to get his senses back, his head in the game, and it wears down Sammy And hurts his vertical base to tone down the explosivity of Sammy's high impact moves. Sean: Sammy Knight feeling the pain as Andrew Davis ripping back on that kneecap. Those ropes must feel like miles away. "SAMMY!!!" "SAMMY!!!" "SAMMY!!!" "SAMMY!!!" "SAMMY!!!" Jack: And these fans beginning to will Sammy up! Knight fighting to get to the ropes now! Has hands free, clawing at the air as Andrew Davis even startled to feel himself being dragged towards his opponent's freedom!! Sean: DAVIS STANDING UP TO WALK KNIGHT AWAY! SAMMY ROLLS AND KICKS HIS ASS! [FANS CHEER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jim: NEARLY BROKE A FOOT OFF IN IT! AND DAVIS HURTING!! [MONSTER FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: Andrew in pains, turning around Sammy rolling forward up and LARIAT DUCKED!! ANDREW CHARGING THE ROPES AND SAMMY FOR THE SPEAR DAVIS LEAPFROGS OVER TOP!!! [Knight turns around as Davis catches him with the flying Armdrag! Knight goes sailing over top as Andrew takes to the air, Sammy blasted with a Standing Dropkick! He hits the canvas and rolls over as Davis jumps the Champ, charging across the ring! Sammy rolls up to his feet and ducks for the backdrop as Davis turns to roll off his back and floatover hooking the arm and head to Jam the ADD!!!] [CROWD POPS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: AND DAVIS WITH THE COVER! 1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Sean: KNIGHT KICKS OUT!!!!! Jack: SAMMY SHOVING DAVIS OFF, GOES FOR THE ROPES! ANDREW INTO THE AIR AND DROPKICKS OUT THE BACK OF THE LEG!! [CROWD BOOS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: KNIGHT to a knee! Davis into the air and BACK BRAIN HEEL KICK! ***CRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!!!!!!*** "OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!" Jim: NEARLY KICKED HIS HEAD INTO THE FOURTH ROW!! WHATTA IMPACT!!! Jack: Sammy hurting, but credit the Champ with his fighting spirit, up and Andrew RAKES his Nails down Sammy's back!! Sean: Oh and you can feel that! Davis looking to the fans- Sammy in the ropes and Andrew into his eyes, GOUGING AT THEM, TRYING TO EVISCERATE THEM FROM HIS FACE!! [CROWD BOOING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: And the REF pulls him off! Cartwright in Andrew's face, threatening him with disqualification! Andrew yelling back and the World Champ gripping at his eyes in misery, oh he really felt the damage that time can he even see!? [Andrew yells and going for Sammy, pulls his head away from the side and stomping at the knee, makes Knight stumble as Andrew keeps his skull in tight. Looking to the roaring fans in San Diego, Davis laughs and mocks their Champion's efforts. Pulling his head over, Andrew grabs onto Knight and raises his fingers, three of them before sending them right into Sammy's eyes!!!] [MONSTROUS HEEL POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jim: AND DAVIS LEAPING FOR THE HEADSHOT! Jack: REVERSED INTO A URANAGE SLAAAAAMMMM!!!! ***WWWHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMM!!!!!!**** [MEGA MONSTER FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: DAVIS PUT DOWN! SAMMY KNIGHT NEARLY PUT HIM THROUGH THE MAT! AND NOW ROLLS OVER, HE HAS THE COVER AND PIN! 1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 3-NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Sean: SAMMY DOES NOT GET IT! AND THIS MATCH CONTINUES!! [CROWD ROARING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jim: I gotta give it to Andrew Davis, he wants this and he wants it big!! What will he do to keep from losing this one, the most important match of his entire life!? It all leads up to this night as Davis could make history, but Sammy HAS to put him away! Jack: Andrew Davis still alive but not for long if Sammy Knight has anything to say about it. The world is turning out to see Knight battle Davis, finally getting his hands on him here in front of a capacity crowd, here in the San Diego Sports Arena for SPW Iconoclasm! Who wants it more? Who truly believes! Only one of these men, one of these Superstars will walk out of here SPW Champion of the World!! [Sammy Knight drags up Andrew and pulling back, sends him running at the corner! Davis somehow spins and sends Knight crashing at the buckles!! The fans roar out as Sammy's head whiplashes and Andrew takes to the air to land the flying Avalanche Splash!! The audience roars out as Knight staggers past and Andrew goes right up to the top in a single leap, and as Sammy turns around Andrew flies off the corner into a Swanton Bomb just crashing the Champion into the mat!!] [FANS ROAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: SAMMY TAKEN OUT BY ANDREW DAVIS!! AND DAVIS ONCE AGAIN UP, TO THE CORNER, LEAPS AGAIN TO THE TOP!!! Sean: ANDREW GOING BACK TO HIS ROOTS!! AND MOONSAULT OFF THE TOP ROPE! DAVIS SAILING BACKWARDS AND SLAAAAMMMS DOWN ACROSS SAMMY KNIGHT!!!! [MONSTER CROWD POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: AND DAVIS NOT DONE! THE REF WAS READY TO COUNT! ANDREW UP AND STEPPING ON SAMMY'S FACE- DIGGING THE HEEL OF HIS BOOT INTO SAMMY'S EYE- SPINS AROUND!!!! [MONSTER HEEL POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: SAMMY SITTING UP AND FACE RACKED WITH PAIN!!! [Sammy holds his eye as he tries to fight to get up, using his good leg to push himself to his feet right as Andrew Davis comes off the second buckle to smash him with a Bulldog from behind!! The fans are booing out as Davis looks out to the Sports Arena- and charging across the ring, jumps into a leaping handstand, smacks his legs off the top rope, bounces back and goes right into a mid-air backflip to land the flying splash right down across Sammy Knight!!!] [FANS ROAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: MY GOD MAN! WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT! Sean: AND THESE FANS IN SAN DIEGO NOW FEARING THE WORST! Jim: DAVIS WITH THE COVER AND HE HOOKS THAT INJURED LEG!!!!! 1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! "SAMMY!!!!" "SAMMY!!!!" "SAMMY!!!!" "SAMMY!!!!" "SAMMY!!!!" 2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! "SAMMY!!!!" "SAMMY!!!!" "SAMMY!!!!" "SAMMY!!!!" "SAMMY!!!!" NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [MEGA MONSTER FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: AND TRY AS HE MIGHT ANDREW DAVIS CANNOT PUT SAMMY KNIGHT AWAY! [Davis looks up, shocked and outraged! Wiping his hair back, he can't believe it as he goes for Sammy and crawling over, begins pounding away with his right hand as Knight kicks in shock!! Davis drags Sammy up and wrenching him over, hooking the leg as he goes to take him up- but Knight fights to get free!! The fans are cheering as Davis tries again, and Sammy Knight fights to break free! Andrew tries a third time and Sammy rips his leg free to sprawl and lands hooking Andrew's head then jumps to spike the Piru Love!!] [CROWD ROARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: KNIGHT PUTS DAVIS DOWN WITH THE PIRU LOVE DDT!!!! Jim: AW THIS COULD BE OVER!! Sean: SAMMY KNIGHT! MUSCLING DAVIS OVER! CRAWLING ACROSS HE HAS THE LEG!! 1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! KICKOUT! A KICKOUT AT THREE!!!! [FANS ROAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: HOW IS ANDREW DAVIS DOING THIS!?! [Sammy sits up, bathed in anxiety as the frustration is beginning to show. Shoving over, he looks to the Referee and then grabs the throat of Andrew Davis, choking him down! The fans cheer as Knight drags Davis upwards, pulling him to his feet and turning around, throws him at the turnbuckles! Davis slams hard and Knight throws the clothesline, slugging him across the chest! The fans cheer out in San Diego as Sammy begins slinging fists into Davis, battering him with haymakers and the fans applaud with every single strike he throws!!] Jack: Sammy pummeling Davis within an inch of his life! Knight has waited so long to give Andrew Davis what's coming!! And Davis being knocked silly by the Heavyweight Champion of the World!! And Sammy Knight blasting Andrew Davis, rocking his head- now with the arm, in and irish whip cross corner as Knight gives chase! Sean: DAVIS Sent for the ride no! Steps off the second, kicks off the top corkscrew HEEL KICK INTO THE TOP OF THE HEAD!!!!!!!!!! [CROWD ROARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: HOW DID HE _DO_ THAT!?! AND THE CHAMP AND THE CHALLENGER BOTH DOWN!! [FANS CHEERING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jim: Wow, well, credit the lightning fast reflexes of the Two Time Champ, and Second Grand Slam Champion in the Lightweight Legend for pulling another maneuver outta thin air to at least swing the match back to even footing, to even ground. If there's anyone who doesn't believe that both these men want this match, they are sorely mistaken! I mean this is competitive, this is as back and forth as it gets!! Jack: Both Superstars bringing their A Game to Iconoclasm, making their federation proud. And the Referee at this point, forced to give a Ten Count as while we'd hate to see this fight end via the count, none of us would not understand. These guys to win the Title or Keep it, truly have to leave everything in the ring- and it's quite clear to this broadcast journalist that they are. [Both men get up as Andrew turns right into a Spinning Heel Kick! Sammy goes down as the fans roar out!! Davis shoves up to run at the ropes as Knight tries to get up- and Davis leaps out to shoot both heels right between Sammy's eyes!!] ***CRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!!!!!*** [HUGE HEEL POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: AND ANDREW DAVIS NOW HEADING UP TO GO TO THE VERY TOP ROPE!!! Jim: OHH DAVIS LOOKING TO END THIS NOW!!! Jack: SAMMY KNIGHT ROLLING OUT OF THE RING!! [CROWD ROARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: Sammy Knight hurting and moving around as he favors that leg, oh you gotta wonder what has to be done to take that title but if he does throw everything he has to keep the Championship, will he be in ANY Shape to take on the Deathwish Cage!? Remember Andrew Davis competed in the first Deathwish Cage Match and then went on to lose the main event! Sean: That's very true, Knight now moving away as Davis is a house of fire, climbing up ONTO the barricade!! And running the railing I can't believe it!! Jim: DAVIS INTO THE AIR AND JUMPING CLOTHESLINE CRASHING KNIGHT DOWN!!!! [MONSTER POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: SAMMY KNIGHT DOWN AT RINGSIDE! AND THE SAN DIEGO SPORTS ARENA SHOUTING OUT! [Andrew walks in pains, grabbing his stomach as he shouts out! Taking up Sammy he turns and launches him inside, scaling up as quickly as he can to go to the top rope! Davis turns to face the crowd and jumps to sit on the top rope, flipping backwards to Moonsault Splash down across Knight! Sweat flies from Andrew's face as he shoves up and down on the chest, rolling over Sammy to hook up the leg, clasping his hands as the Referee drops to make the count!!] 1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 3 -NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! KNIGHT GOT THE SHOULDER UP!! [FANS CHEER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: Sammy Knight refusing to stay down! Jim: I think Davis may have used everything he has! Sean: Andrew up charging the ropes, off the side and rushing Knight up SPINS AND TOSSES ANDREW DAVIS CLEAR OVER THE TOP ROPE!!! [MONSTER FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: DAVIS KICKS BUT SWANDIVES INTO THE ARENA FLOOR!!! OH MY GOD THE AIR JUST BLASTED OUT OF THE WORLD TITLE CONTENDER!! Jim: HARD LANDING IF I'VE EVER SEEN ONE! AND THIS MATCH MAY HAVE TURNED IN SAMMY KNIGHT'S FAVOR! Jack: And Andrew Davis laid out and aching on the concrete outside, only a half inch of rubber prevented him from going right into the floor but that's not much solace when you're hurtling from fifteen feet!! Sammy Knight taking the opportunity to try and regain his composure, but again, forcing himself to go for the outside but the Ref barring his way! Sean: Knight has got to put Davis down for the kill as fast as he can, even if he is worse for wear!! Sammy may see the blood in the water and he knows every second he takes longer to put Andrew Davis away, that's a second he may not have in the Deathwish Cage Match main event! [Sammy climbs outside, dropping down as he goes to take up Andrew Davis- and turning he shouts out at the top of his lungs to send Davis sailing straight into the steel steps!!!] ****CRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSSHHHHHHH!!!!!!!**** Jim: Oh I think a few more shots like that, and Andrew Davis' chances at becoming three time Champion go up in flames! In essence, Davis is running on fumes as it is, he has to be! Shootfire Savior or not, Andrew Davis did not plan on wrestling Sammy BEFORE the Deathwish Cage and this is showing us all exactly what this man is truly made of! Sean: Davis down and hurting, the steel dislodged thanks to his own shoulder. Sammy rolling inside, and the Referee moving to count Davis out! 1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 3!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Jim: I don't think Andrew Davis can get to his feet guys! I don't know if he has anything left! 4!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [Davis rolls over, crawling across the ringside area as Sammy is getting up, using the ropes on the far side of the ring. Andrew moves to stand- and Knight breaks into a charge!! The audience screams out as Sammy Knight leaps clear over the top rope!! Spreading out his arms Knight shouts at the top of his lungs and crashes himself straight down into Andrew Davis!!!!] [FANS ROARING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: SAMMY KNIGHT SUICIDA CLEAR OVER THE TOP ROPE!! UNBELIEVABLE!!!!!!!!!!!! "SAMMY!!!!!!!" "SAMMY!!!!!!!" "SAMMY!!!!!!!" "SAMMY!!!!!!!" Sean: SAMMY KNIGHT SACRIFICING HIMSELF TO TAKE OUT ANDREW DAVIS!! Jack: SAMMY KNIGHT WITH A FLYING SUICIDA INSANE! AND DAVIS AND THE CHAMP BOTH DOWN!! Sean: WHATTA MATCH! SAMMY KNIGHT GETTING UP AND SCREAMING OUT TO HIS LOYAL AUDIENCE, A SEA OF FANS!!!!!! STANDING ROOM ONLY HERE IN THE SPORTS ARENA! [Knight roars out, dragging Andrew Davis up as he runs and launches the man right back inside the ring! Davis rolls over and over as Sammy climbs up to the side, finally going in to put his hated nemesis away!! The fans in San Diego are roaring out as Knight steps through the ropes and Andrew Davis kips up to jump and leap for the Headshot- and Sammy throws him away!!!] [CROWD ROARING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: DAVIS TRIED FOR THE HEADSHOT NOOO! MISSED!! Jim: OH MAN! ANDREW DAVIS FOR HIS PATENTED FINISHING MANEUVER BUT NOTHING DOING! NO WAY SAYS OUR THE HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION OF THE WORLD!! Sean: SAMMY CHARGES AND SWINGS THE CLOTHESLINE!! [Andrew throws himself into the backbridge as Sammy misses! Davis springs backwards to land on his feet and jumping through the air lets the spinning crescent kick fly but Knight ducks to haul the man higher, tossing him up for the Blue Thunder Bomb but Davis kicks out his legs and twists to slam the Bulldog right into the canvas!!!] [CROWD SCREAMS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: DAVIS IN CONTROL! AND HE WANTS THIS MATCH! Sean: ANDREW DAVIS WANTS THIS VICTORY ON A GOLDEN PLATTER!!! HE WANTS TO WIN THIS SO BAD HE CAN TASTE IT! AND SAMMY KNIGHT- SAMMY KNIGHT GETTING UP!! THESE FANS WILLING HIM TO HIS FEET! Jim: THEY MAY BE WILLING HIM TO HIS DOOM! [Davis screams out, veins bulging as Knight rolls over and shoves to get up to his feet! Andrew Davis charges into the air and leaps out kicking into the air to send the Flawless Superkick flying aimed at Sammy's face!! Sammy dodges sideways and scooping Davis out of the air, spins to haul Andrew over his shoulder and spikes the man right down on his forehead!!!] [CROWD ROARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: DAVIS DUMPED RIGHT ON HIS HEAD! AND ROLLING OVER- HE'S BUSTED CLEAR OPEN!!! [FANS SCREAMING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [Davis looks up at Sammy, blood beginning to erupt and run down his face! Sammy Knight twists into a scowl as Andrew rolls away, trying to get up, head clouded and vision dazed as Knight slams full force into him, barrelling him over with a monster shoulderblock!!] [HUUUUUGE FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: ANDREW DAVIS KNOCKED RIGHT OVER! AND SAMMY KNIGHT MOVING IN! TO LOCK THE HEAD HE HAS HIM TIGHT! AND WE ALL KNOW WHAT THIS IS! [The crowd stands up to cheer as the camera pans from across the arena, scaling past the heads of thousands of fans as it moves towards the ring and Sammy Knight is looking out across the San Diego Sports Arena, Davis' head locked in a vice! Sammy shouts out and goes to lift Andrew but the Hollywood Hero has his leg!! Sammy pulls again, but Davis hangs on! Getting the knee under, he shoots in and fireman's carry takes Sammy right over onto his shoulders! Davis stands and turns to fall slamming Sammy Knight right down across his back!!!] [CROWD SCREAMS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: SAMMY KNIGHT LAID OUT WITH THE JUDGMENT SLAAAAMM!! AND ANDREW DAVIS- DAVIS WITH THE SINGLE LEG! ONCE AGAIN GOING FOR THE DAVIS EX MACHINA!! Sean: SAMMY TURNING AND KICKING DAVIS OFF! ANDREW STAGGERING BACK! Jim: DAVIS OFF THE ROPES AND WIPES BLOOD FROM HIS EYES SAMMY SPEARS OUT HIS KNEES!!! "OOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Sean: DAVIS FLIPPED OVER! AND SAMMY MAY HAVE BROKEN HIS KNEECAPS WITH THAT ONE!! ANDREW DOWN AND KNIGHT WITH THE LEGS, ARMS WRAPPING INSIDE AND TURNING! YES! TURNING THE MAN OVER! SAMMY KNIGHT WITH THE FIGURE FOUR DEATHLOCK ON ANDREW DAVIS HE HAS THE LOCKDOWN CINCHED IN!!! [MEGA MONSTER FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: OH MY! OH WOW- THE LOCKDOWN CINCHED IN THE SAME MOVE KNIGHT HAS USED TO WIN AT CHARITY CARNAGE! AND ANDREW DAVIS TRAPPED IN THE CENTER OF THE RING!! [Andrew Davis screams out as blood is running freely down his face, Andrew shoving up as he tries to power free, but Sammy Knight just sits back pulling Davis up even harder! Andrew reaches out weakly for the ropes, stretching but seemingly miles away from safety! Sweat and blood pour down his face as he pulls to get out, to get up, but Sammy Knight has the hold in locked!!] Sean: DAVIS TRAPPED WITH NOWHERE TO GO! WILL HE TAP!? WILL HE TAP OUT AND GIVE UP THE BIGGEST MATCH OF HIS CAREER!? Jim: NOT ON YOUR LIFE! IF THERE'S ANYTHING IN DAVIS IT'S HIS RESOLVE TO WIN!! Jack: HOW IS HE DOING THIS! WE THOUGHT KNIGHT WAS IMMORTAL!!!! [Sammy screams loud, wrenching back as his own legs are beginning to shake! Andrew rips at his own hair to keep from passing out, and his head hits the canvas. Davis pushes up to reach away- and getting his fingers locked back, curling them into fists, Andrew pulls his arms under to begin and drag himself and Sammy both towards the ropes!] [CROWD ROARING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: DAVIS TRYING! DAVIS TRYING FOR IT! ANDREW CAN TAP, HE COULD TAP AT ANY SECOND!! Jim: BUT HE WON'T! AND SAMMY HANGING ON! HE WILL BREAK ANDREW DAVIS IF HE HAS TO!! Jack: ALL KNIGHT WAS TRYING TO DO WAS TO PUT DAVIS AWAY AS FAST AS POSSIBLE! [Sammy moves to stand up, to walk Andrew back for the center and Davis takes his chance to roll over as fast as he can, taking Knight to the mat! Andrew sits up through the pain as he screams out with a bloody face, holding the legs as the Referee dives to make the count!!] 1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [FANS SCREAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [Andrew Davis shouts out, falling over as Sammy gets up and Andrew rises up to kick in the stomach, wrenching in the headlock but Knight sprawls and twists out to tear the arm over! Sammy slams the shoulder into Davis, and Andrew yells, and stomps out Sammy's leg! Knight stagger steps back and both leap for the back brain heel kick at the exact same time, each man smashing their shin into the other as the audience roars!!!!] ******CRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCCKKKKK!!!!!****** Sean: BOTH MEN DOWWWNNN!!!! AND SERIOUSLY HURT!!! Jack: I have never seen either man wrestle this tooth and nail to put the other away! Andrew Davis, can he finally be stopped!? Can Sammy Knight be the one to kill him off once and for all! Or will Davis realize his quest of becoming the first ever Three Time SPW Heavyweight Champion of the World!?! Jim: KNIGHT IN AGONY! GRIPPING THAT LEG! AND ANDREW DAVIS TRYING TO LIMP UP! [Sammy Knight shouts out as he spreads open his arms, yelling out to the fans! They scream back and Knight hobbles over, grabbing up Andrew's head! He wrenches in the front chancery, forearm in the throat and as Davis can barely stand, Knight ducks low to suplex Andrew Davis straight up for the Blood Drop!! The audience is roaring out as Sammy pulls up to haul Andrew upside down but Davis pulls his legs into a vertical point, balancing them together! Knight lifts him high and Andrew swings straight down to lock the face and as he falls Sammy can't stand and takes the Headshot right on his face!!] ****WWWWHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMM!!!!!!!!!!!***** [FANS SCREAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: ANDREW DAVIS REVERSES THE BLOOD DROP RIGHT INTO A HEADSHOT! Jim: NOOOOOOOO F'N WAAAAAAAAAAAAY!!! Sean: DAVIS SHOVING KNIGHT OVER! BLOOD JUST POURING FROM ANDREW'S FACE! 1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 3!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ****DINGDINGDINGDINGDINGDINGDINGDINGDINGDINGDINGDING!!!!!**** Stone: YOUR WINNER! AND NEEEEEWWWWW SPW HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION OF THE WOOORRRRLLLLLDD!!! THE LIGHTWEIGHT LEGEND... AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNDREWWWW DDDDDAAAAAAAAVVVVIIIIIIIIISSSSS!!!!!!!! [CROWD SCREAMS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [Davis rolls over, blasted as he lays out, exhausted as only his chest is heaving. The audience is stunned, shocked and amazed to have seen Sammy's nearly two year title reign come to an end!! Andrew is laid out, eyes blinking, as new blood jets out over dried blood on his face. The fans are on their feet, clapping and applauding the efforts of both men as the Referee raises the folded World Championship belt! Sammy Knight rolls over, eyes watching as the Official kneels down and awards it to Davis, Andrew's arms somehow moving up as he locks the belt and pulls it onto his chest. Sammy drags himself up to an elbow, utterly exhausted and worn out... but with enough strength to stay conscious. He can only watch as Andrew lays with the title in his arms.] Sean: And the title Sammy Davis won at Wrestlebowl of February in 2008, now around the waist of The Hollywood Hero, the Lightweight Legend, Andrew Davis, and Sammy still has to go on to compete in the Deathwish Cage Match. I don't see how Knight can possibly compete even with the fight at the end of the night. With James O'Connor still not back in the arena, unless the Women's World Title Match is a four hour classic, Shootfire's chances look pretty bad and the Invaders have got to be loving this. Jim: I just, I just can't believe that Knight's reign is truly over! That has to be a feat no one could ever have hoped to accomplish, this is a win like none other in the history of our league. Sammy Knight is Shootfire Pro and if there's a bone left in his body he will be in the Deathwish Cage Match and he will defend us to the death!! Jack: The greatest World Champion SPW has ever seen, of all time, bar none. Can he, possibly, does he have what it takes, to move past this and be ready to fight in the Cage! If he was any other man I'd say no but you can never count Sammy Knight out! Part of me knew this match might have that extra strength of reserve remain, but I hope and pray Knight has something left ...though I don't know how he does it. Shootfire Faithful, you are bearing witness to a pay per view event like none other, the end of Sammy's World Championship reign, and the ascension of one Andrew Davis to the very top as he becomes our Champion for an amazing, an unmatched, a record THREE Times. Jim: Oh and what a match it was. These two took each other to the limit, Davis with nothing to lose, he gave it his all and it went back and forth, a classic fight in every sense of the word, my hat goes off to both athletes for a stirring performance, but Andrew Davis able to pull out the stop and reverse the Blood Drop, in a fight that saw battles from ground game to aerial attack, submission maneuvers to straight back and forth brawling, two competitors evenly matched and this fight, this night Andrew Davis was the better man. He wanted this more than anything and his resolve saw him fight with every single thing he had to win this fight and that's the mark of a wrestling Champion. Your winner, and Three Time SPW Heavyweight Champion of the World. Andrew Davis. [Davis is leaning up against the ropes, the golden title belt cradled under his arm, as he hangs on the side to stand, the fans on their feet and roaring out. Looking up at the face of history itself, Andrew raises the title by its strap, as "Flashing Lights" plays across the San Diego Sports Arena sound system.] _____________________________________________________________________________ |_____________________________________________________________________________| |__ICONOCLASM_________________________________________________________________| [An empty locker room backstage. It's dark but not quite pitch black. In the back of the room the camera can almost make out a woman. She's obscured by the low light but she's decidedly female. She smiles, flashing bright pearly whites. Out of the darkness comes a voice; soft, feminine and very, very evil.] Angst: Beware the stare of Sammy Shaw. [A pause.] She had no children, only dolls. [A laugh; soft, vicious.] And if you should see her in your dreams. [A 'hissing' breath.] Make sure you never, ever scream. [The camera closes on the darkness obscured face of the woman at the back of the room.] A: But you will scream. With little Sammy... [She laughs that wicked laugh.] ... everybody screams. _____________________________________________________________________________ |_________________________________________________________________________SPW_| |_____________________________________________________________________________| [Fade to the exterior of the San Diego Sports Arena. Soft green lights glow from the walls below as the air as the camera is looking on from a weird angle. It shows the upside of Kieran Rae's face, her jawline highlighted in a complete contrast against the starry backdrop of the clear night sky. Her auburn hair hanging low in the September air, Kieran stares at the moon with dark brooding eyes. In her arm is an attache case. Suddenly a voice rings out in the darkness as Kieran's eyes open wide.] AJ: Kieran. Kieran: Sir? [Kieran spins around, the picture moving as AJ Black is standing in the darkness, the skyline of San Diego out behind him. Dressed in a black suit and open white shirt, the real CEO of SPW stands grinning towards his protege, eyes staring right at her. He is smiling as Kieran almost breaks to give her boss a hug.] AJ: So how have you been? Kieran: Yes thank you so much for coming here. I think we've finally found out what happened, and it was actually Serena who figured it out. She really is a genius. AJ: She takes after her mother. Victor Frost: Ja I didn't think you'd show. [AJ turns on his heels to see Frost step out of the shadows, the Fusion Champion refreshed from his hardfought title defense earlier in the night. Wearing a dark grey suit, "Violent" Victor Frost tips his fedora in polite respect as his former manager looks very happy to see him. Kieran nods, then raises up her attache.] Kieran: And I have proof. But I brought everything like you said, so will you help me? Will you help me go after the man who tried to have me, who tried to have me- AJ: I'll take care of it. I'll take care of everything don't worry. [AJ takes the attache case and opening it up, takes out one of the bloody documents.] AJ: These things keep haunting me. Thanks for agreeing to bring these here, and to meet me in private Kieran. You know you always were the smartest one. And much, much more inspired than your lowlife husband... [AJ grins... shaking his head. Victor Frost lowers his eyes, as Black smirks. He looks out across the night sky of San Diego, the horizon edge and as far beyond as he possibly can.] AJ: Well I'm back now, and the board of directors will next month. Until I clear up my absence with Cain, you still don't mind serving as CEO, correct? Kieran: Absolutely. All of us together can really step forward and do what has to be done. Frost: This is great, Black Mass will step up and run this miserable place once and for all! [Frost comes up and claps both on the shoulder, as AJ smiles, hefting the case under his arm. He heads back towards the arena as Victor follows, hands on lapels as he looks forward to springing his newfound political power into heavy dividends.... Kieran stares... arms folded out as her eyes narrow and a slight smirk begins to rise up on her face. A man steps out of the shadows, a man in a white suit... hat pulled down low...] Man: You know what you're doing? Kieran: We've come this far... we need to focus on this now. I think the world is ready to see you back in action. I will make sure you're protected. Man: Pity, I was beginning to enjoy the cuisine. [Fade out as Kieran heads in to follow her mentor, leaving the man alone in the light of the moon.] _____________________________________________________________________________ |_____________________________________________________________________________| |__ICONOCLASM_________________________________________________________________| Women's World Title Match POET WRIGHT -vs- TIFFANY LANE _____________________________________________________________________________ |_________________________________________________________________________SPW_| |_____________________________________________________________________________| [The camera opens up on Sensuous Samantha Bevins sitting at ringside, near the timekeeper's table with the hammer in her hand. The fans cheer out as some raise up her posters, Samanth in a black business suit showing off a black lace bra. The 5'9" with long legs and gorgeous blonde hair. She has piercing green eyes looks sweet and innocent as she looks ahead towards the ring....] [CROWD CHEERING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: And our guest timekeeper as it were, SSB at ringside why is she here?? Jim: I don't know but this will not be what our contender, what our beautiful challenger wants to see. Sean: Well let's see what she does, Samantha has been very competitive but not disruptive to Lane so far, maybe she will be on the straight and narrow. "Take it back take it back take it back..." [There's a MASSIVE FACE POP as "Maneater" by Nelly Furtado blares over the loudspeakers and the fans rush to the railings to see the Queen of SPW!! The beautiful tanned face of Tiffany Lane flashes onscreen with pink lipstick as she laughs and blows a kiss as her name reads in the shape of pink lips;] B L O N D E B O M B S H E L L T I F F A N Y L A N E "Everybody look at me, me I walk in the door you start, screaming Come on everybody whatchu here for? Move your body around like a nympho Everybody get your necks to crack around All you crazy people come on jump around I want to see you all on your knees, knees You either want to be with me or be me" [Suddenly, the curtains part in a white flash of light! Tiffany Lane slowly steps through them causing the Shootfire Faithful to pop huge in the arena! "The Blonde Bombshell" wears a long feathered and silvery pink satin robe, turning around and slowly opens her robe to show off her perfect toned, muscled and enhanced body! Lane wears a pink, satin and lace, bra top and pink, satin hot pants, trimmed in lace. She completes the look with with pink, platform boots, her long luxurious blonde hair falling straight down her back. She does a quick shimmy and shake before giving a toss of her gorgeous mane!] "Maneater, make you work hard Make you spend hard Make you want all, of her love She's a maneater Make you buy cars Make you cut cards Make you fall, fall in love" She's a Maneater, make you work hard Make you spend hard Make you want all, of her love She's a maneater Make you buy cars Make you cut cards Wish you never ever met her at all! [With an arrogant smirk, she sashays down the aisle, treating it as if it were her own personal runway, brushing pink french manicured fingertips with the outstretched hands of the fans and adding an extra wiggle to her walk. The SPW Tron shows Tiffany hitting Iris Galiver with the Icebreaker onto a chair!!] "And when she walks she walks with passion When she talks she talks like she can handle it When she asks for something boy she means it Even if you never, ever seen it Everybody get your necks to crack around All you crazy people come on jump around You doing anything to keep her by your side Because, she said she love you, love you long time!" [HUGE FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] "Maneater, make you work hard Make you spend hard Make you want all, of her love She's a maneater Make you buy cars Make you cut cards Make you fall, fall in love! She's a Maneater, make you work hard Make you spend hard Make you want all, of her love She's a maneater Make you buy cars Make you cut cards Wish you never ever met her at all! [She climbs the ringside stairs before making a show of slipping through the top and middle ropes! Lane enters the ring and raises up the Women's World Title! The golden belt with the buxom girl superimposed across the globe sparkles in its white leather casing, diamonds shining bright! The SPWTron shows Tiffany Lane diving from the top turnbuckle with a Swanton Bomb to the floor!! Inside the ring, Lane ducks down low and whips her head up, giving off the Hair Toss O' Doom as her gossamer locks shimmer down in golden rivelets, the audience rocking the arena with devoted cheers!!] Stone: THE FOLLOWING IS SET FOR ONE FALL AND IS FOR THE SPW WOMEN'S WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP!! INTRODUCING FIRST, FROM BEVERLY HILLS CALIFORNIA, STANDING 5 FOOT 8 AND WEIGHING IN AT 125 POUNDS, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, PLEASE WELCOME THE BLONDE BOMBSHELL, TIFFAAAAAAAAAANY! LAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANE!!!!!!!!!!!!! [MASSIVE FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: Oh this is the biggest night of her life, can she do the first and record setting deal, can she be the 4 Time Women's World Champ?? Jim: Lane is one of the best wrestlers in the game today, if anyone can do it, she can! But what about "Sensuous" Samantha at ringside!! Jack: THAT remains to seen! Samantha and Tiffany definitely have been having their rivalry over Alpha Female status as of late!! [Darkness falls across the arena as the Gregorian chants of "Consumite Furore" begin to play amid clashing cymbals. A gory pendulum begins to swing across the Shootfire Screens, the giant white blade slicing back and forth, running down from its serrated edges. The lights stay in their dark blue shadow as a shrouded form in a gossamer white cloak makes its way out of the back, wheeling a glass box onto the stage! The music begins a somber death march as the lone figure wheels the box down the stage ramp, the fans becoming creeped out by the minute as they shrink back from the guardrails] "Consumite furore Consumite furore Consumite furore Venite in fasinum, O spiritus tenebrarum Venite in fasinum, O spiritus tenebrarum" [The Gregorian chants continue as the gruesome axe swings heavy across the Screen. The box continues its way for the ring, the death march chanting growing louder. The figure pushes the glass box to ringside, and begins to head up the stairs as fast as possible, stepping into the ring in a flash of gossamer robe as the eerie chanting continues on....] [MONSTER HEEL POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] "Magne Asteroth te iubeo Implete hunc lapidem Implete eum viribus Sulfuratis vestris Consumite eum iris vestris Istas vires adsumem! Lubeo te!" [The figure throws back the robe revealing a twisted red mask made of the hair and skin of her captured victims!! The audience pops in horror, the bronze body of Poet Wright clear underneath the bizarre contraption of a black bodysuit, with shootfighter's shinguards and boots. Her tattooed arms evident, Poet raises her hand in a knife edge shape and drops to a knee as the lights flash in darkness] "Venite in facinum, O spiritus tenebrarum Magne Asteroth, te iubeo Consumite eum iris vestris Consumite! Consumite! Consumite! Istas vires adsumem, lubeo te! Lubeo te! Lubeo Te! Lubeo! Lubeo Te!" Stone: FROM TRINIDAD, WEIGHING IN AT 153 POUNDS, STANDING 5 FOOT 10, THIS IS POET!!!!!!! WRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHT!!!!!!!!!! [HUGE HEEL POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: And the following is going to be one hell of a fight as Tiffany Lane entering the ring, robe and all as the Blonde Bombshell going to Iconoclasm to try and become the first ever Four Time Champion of the World... a feat never before accomplished by anyone here in Shootfire Pro- but as she enters the ring and the fans in California cheer her, could this match be her night? [Lane smiles wide as she raises her arms, golden and silver sequins on her robes flashing in the spotlights- and Poet Wright jumps her from behind!!] [CROWD SCREAMS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: WRIGHT ATTACKING BEFORE THE BELL!! AND THROWING LANE RIGHT THROUGH THE ROPES!!! [Tiffany flies over the side, trying to catch the ropes but instead hits her hip off the apron and flies to smack into the floor! Poet sliding to ringside after, goes to drag up Lane by her robe and throws her into the ringside barricade!!] [CROWD BOOING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: OH NOO!! COME ON SHE CAN'T DO THAT!! Jack: POET WRIGHT JUMPING TIFFANY LANE BEFORE THE BELL! WRIGHT IS SOME KIND OF ANIMAL!!! Jim: AND IN FRONT OF HER HOME STATE!!!! [Poet beats into Tiffany Lane, slamming her fist into Lane's head, over and over as she beats her up against the guardrail!! The fans are roaring as Poet Wright drags Tiffany around, robe falling to the floor, the audience stands up to boo their heads off. The World Champion takes the arm over Lane's head, and locking her waistband, looks out across the arena and snaps the suplex into the air to kick out her legs and land Lane hard across the concrete in the ringside area!!!] [MONSTER HEEL POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: LANE LANDED IN THE HARD SUPLEX!! AND THIS MATCH HASN'T EVEN STARTED YET! Jim: IT CAN'T! IT HAS TO START IN THE RING!! WHICH MEANS WRIGHT CAN DO WHATEVER SHE WANTS!! Jack: WRIGHT DRAGGING LANE UP AND RUNS HER PAST SAMANTHA BEVINS! AND RIGHT INTO THE TIMEKEEPER'S TABLE!! [CROWD POPS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] ["Sensous" Samantha pulls back, keeping a wide distance as Poet Wright tosses Lane up onto the table! Climbing up Poet drags her thumb across her throat! The audience roars out and Wright hauls the beaten challenger to her feet, bent over in the standing headscissors!! The fans are booing, roaring out as Wright locks Tiffany's waist! The fans are booing, vehemently as they throw down rage, in fear for their heroine and Poet hauls Tiffany up! But Lane starts kicking like crazy!!!] Sean: LANE FIGHTING! POET TRYING TO PILEDRIVE HER THROUGH THE TABLE! Jack: NOOO!! LANE KICKING AND STANDING UP TO REVERSE! AND POET SENT RIGHT INTO THE TABLE EDGE BACK-FIRST!!!! [FANS CHEER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jim: POET WRIGHT ON THE FLOOR BUT THE TABLE DID NOT BREAK!! Sean: AT THE FEET OF SAMANTHA BEVINS!! -TIFFANY!!!! Jack: LANE WITH THE MOONSAULT THROUGH THE AIR!!!!!! Jim: AND STRAIGHT INTO THE WOMEN'S WORLD CHAMPION!! [FANS SCREAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: LANE CRASHING POET WRIGHT AND TAKING HER DOWWNN!! [MONSTER CROWD POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: SENSUOUS SAM STILL CANNOT START THIS MATCH! Jim: POET WRIGHT WITH THE MEET MS WRIGHT SUPERKICK!!! ***CRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACKKKKKK!!!!*** [MONSTROUS HEEL POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [The crowd screams out as Tiffany Lane goes crashing into the side of the table and falls down, hurting as her side slams right off the edge of the wood. Dropping to her knees, Lane is suffering and Poet Wright stalks over, dragging Lane up and chucks her upside down right into the ring apron!!] Jack: Oh my Lord, and the chaos continues. Poet Wright on a murderous rampage and she doesn't care who she has to hurt, or who gets in her way. And our guest timekeeper hasn't even able to start this match! Jim: Yeah and Tiffany Lane paying the price, though I bet Samantha just MIGHT be enjoying this a Litle bit. Just a little bit!! [HEEL POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: POET just rammed Tiffany's head into the ringpost! And taking her around the side of the ring, is there anyway this is going to get actually in the ring so we can start a match!? [Poet Wright spins around shouting and sends Lane running at the steel stairs but Tiffany somehow spins to counter the throw and sends Wright shoulder-first into the steps!!] ***CRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAASSHHHHH!!!!*** "OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Jack: AND POET WRIGHT JUST WIPED OUT INTO THE STAIRS!! AND THE REFEREE SHOUTING AT THEM TO GET INSIDE! [Lane drags herself up- looking to the Official- and instead goes to the fans! They are rising and cheering as Tiffany demands a chair! The fans hand her one and Poet rises up, using the ringpost for leverage as Lane charges with the chair and swings it right at her facemask!!] ****CCLLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAAANG!!!!!***** Jim: LANE MISSED!!!! Jack: And that shot woulda taken her head off! Sean: Poet up and kicks Tiffany across the chest! Dragging her around NO! Lane with the chair rim right up into the jaw!! And Tiffany with the chair now, has Poet by the mask and fixing that weapon right in under the face- STOMPS it down into the floor OHHH!! Guillotine on Poet Wright! [FANS CHEERING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [Lane shouts on enraged, as Poet collapses in horrid agony, clutching her throat and gasping for air. Tiffany drags her up into the air, lifting her high as she grips the leg with both arms- and turning around runs Poet's kneecap right into the barricade!!] Sean: OHH! Wright's knee driven right into the metal! And Lane has her up still- KNEEBREAKER ACROSS THE GUARDRAIL!!! Jim: OHHH!! Wright down and clutching at her leg now! Tiffany Lane kicking and stomping that leg, and now taking Poet Wright up pitches her inside the ring!! ***DINGDINGDINGDINGDINGDINGDING!!!!!*** [HUGE FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: AND FINALLY THE MATCH _STARTS!_ Jack: FINALLY SAMANTHA RINGS THE BELL!! Jim: They only NOW just got in the ring! Jack: Lane dragging Poet's legs at the ringpost as she slides right out! Taking up the leg and Bringing it right into the blue pole! And Poet suffering as Lane sliding back inside, Wright climbing up as Tiffany Lane drops to send the clip right into the back of the leg oh, just, just driving her down. Jim: This match for all the marbles, the right to become the Four Time Champion of the World, a feat never before done by any Champion at all, Men or Women!! Sean: The stakes are so high as Tiffany Lane going in for the kill! Wright hurting as Lane drags the limb up and SPIKES it off the canvas! The fans in for support as Tiffany collapsing against the ropes, man the sheer volume of her ferocious efforts finally beginning to take their toll. [Lane wipes sweat off her face, as Poet slithers toward the center of the ring. Tiffany yells out, pulling her fists up as Wright makes it to the far corner, dragging herself up to stand on a hurting leg. Tiffany Lane goes right for her! Rushing at top speed she jumps for the spear as Poet hops right up to sit on the top rope!!] [CROWD POPS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: LANE INTO THE BUCKLES!! AND POET WITH HER HEAD!! LEAPING INTO THE SOMERSAULT NECKBREAKER Jack: DIAMOND DUST!! DIAMOND DUST ON TIFFANY LANE!!!! [FANS BOOING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jim: LANE LAID OUT! AND POET WITH THE LATERAL PRESS- HOOKS THE LEG 1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Sean: AND TIFFANY LANE KICKS OUT!!!!!!!! [FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [Poet Wright pulls her head up and brings her elbow right down between Tiffany's eyes!! Lane collapses as the fans boo out like crazy, Poet dragging her up and hooks for the Sambo Suplex- but Tiffany smashes with elbows into the side of the head! Lane takes the arm, twisting it over and Poet blocks then catching the wrist, wrings it over and lets the back heel savate kick fly!! Tiffany ducks the leg and locking it across her shoulder, drops to her knees cracking it over her shoulder!] Jack: Nicely done! Poet limping as Lane slugs the clothesline to her chest! Wright just killed with the clothesline as The Blonde Bombshell wrestling smart and keeps the focus on that leg. Jim: Guess she didn't appreciate being jumped before the bell. Women. Always taking things so personal. Sean: Lane in control, charging the ropes and coming off and into the air- SHIN INTO THE FACE OF POET WRIGHT!! Jack: Nice! And Tiffany Lane now dragging Poet Wright up, hooks the leg, and SPINNING FISHERMAN'S NECKBREAKER!! [FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: Now that was beautiful to watch! And Lane with the leg now, stepping over and making sure to drag Wright from the ropes- she slaps in the Stepover Toehold!! [Lane pushes on the leg, twisting it around hers as Poet flails to get free- and sitting up pokes the eye as Tiffany has got let go. San Diego is on her side, letting Wright have it as Poet drags herself up. She jumps and leaps for the Poetry Slam and drops Tiffany right on her face!!!] [CROWD ROARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jim: POETRY SLAAAAAAAAAMMMM!! TIFFANY ATE IT!! AND THAT IS IT! Sean: POET WRIGHT CRAWLING OVER! HAS THE COVER AND 1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 3-KICKOUT! WHAT THE HELL!! POETRY SLAM AND TIFFANY LANE KICKED OUT!!?! [FANS CHEERING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: UNBELIEVABLE! AND POET WRIGHT DIDN'T EXPECT THAT! Sean: CREDIT TO LANE'S STRONG DESIRE TO DO WHAT NOBODY HAS DONE BEFORE!! [Tiffany sits up, hurting and sore as Poet Wright rolls up and grabbing two handfuls of blonde hair, stands up screaming out as she tosses Lane by her hair! The fans roar and Lane smashes into the mat!! Poet limps over and drops the elbow to slam it right into the top of Tiffany's spine!!] [CROWD BOOING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [Poet stands in the middle of the ring and throwing her arms down, roars out as she gets up and raising her thumb to the capacity crowd- reaches to drag it across her throat as slowly as she can!!] [MONSTER HEEL POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: AND POET TAUNTING OUR FANS HERE IN SAN DIEGO AND THE MILLIONS WATCHING ON PAY PER VIEW!! Sean: Poet Wright over as Tiffany tries to get up, trying to head for the ropes!! Oh, still feeling the effects of that prematch onslaught, and Wright with the waistlock! Taking Lane into the air and GERMAN SUPLEX!! OHH!! Lane flat hard on her back! Jim: And now rolls her over! Poet not done!! Sean: Wright taking Lane up, half nelson locked in, grabs the arm around the waist-- HALF NELSON SUPLEX RIGHT ON THE TOP OF THE HEAD!! [HEEL POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: AND POET WRIGHT STILL GOING!! AND THE PICKUP FOR THE TEARDROP-- Sean: LANE FLIPPED OVER TOP!?!? [FANS SCREAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: Tiffany for the side headlock! But Poet with the standing switch! Wrapping the full nelson and FACEBUSTER RIGHT INTO THE MAT!! [CROWD ROARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: POET WRIGHT HAS THE ARMS STILL LOCKED! AND FLIPPING FORWARD TO LAND ON HER HEELS!! CATTLE MUTILATION! THE FINAL STANZA LOCKED IN!!! [Tiffany Lane is down on her face, feeling the pain and agony as sinew threatens to rip from flesh! Lane shoves up on her knee, shouting out, as Poet goes to the point of her toes to add as much leverage to pressure as she possibly can! The Referee is down and shouting out for the give, as California screams out for their hometown hero!! Tiffany gets a leg out, trying to survive, trying to push out, and Poet's legs begin to shake as Lane nearly hyperextends her own leg in getting a boot over and under the bottom rope!!] [FANS CHEERING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: LANE FOUGHT THROUGH THE PAIN AND STILL MADE IT TO THE SIDE!! AND THE REF SAYS BREAK! Jim: ... Jack: AND THE REF SAYS BREAK!! COME ON!! Sean: NO! AND LARA WITH A COUNT! 1!!!!! 2!!!!!! 3!!!!!! 4!!!!!! Sean: AND JUST Broke on Four. Poet Wright doesn't watch it, she'll earn herself a disqualification. Jim: Tiffany Lane has to beat her, not the other way around. If she wants that title, if she wants to make history and become the first ever Four Time Women's World Champion in SPW, a tall order to say the least- and POET already on her with knees to the lungs! Jack: Wright over to the corner, she needs some time to recuperate as Tiffany Lane having a hard time walking out away from the ropes- what's this!? Poet Wright to sit up on the top! Standing on the second! [Lane turns around holding her arm and Poet leaps straight into her, catching her head with both hands and swinging down to land her knees right up into Tiffany's chest!!] ***WWWHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAM!!!!!**** Sean: TALIBAN BACKPACK ON TIFFANY LANE! YOU GOTTA BE KIDDING ME!! Jack: OH! And Lane can barely even breathe! Poet now, SUPLEXING HER STRAIGHT UP!!! [Poet Wright holds Tiffany into the air as high as she can, letting all the blood drain from her head- and dropping her jams her right on her shoulders as she sits straight down!! The fans roar out as Poet sits forwards, covering her valiant contender!!] Jack: ORANGE CRUSH BOMB!!! AND THIS COULD BE OVER!!! 1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Sean: NOOOOOOOO!!! LANE KICKED OUT!! Jack: POET WRIGHT HAS HER HEAD AGAIN! AND MOUNTED KNEES RIGHT INTO THE SKULL!!! [Poet bashes the crap outta Lane's head over and over again, as the Referee paces in a circle around the forefront, Wright looking out into the crowd as the fans boo like crazy! Poet rises up to her feet, and suplexing Tiffany Lane high into the air- throws her back as she kicks out the legs to land the cutter straight into the mat!! But Lane rolls away and falls off the apron to collapse on the floor!] [FANS ROARING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: BLACK CRUSH INTO A POETRY SLAAAMM 2009!! AND LANE ESCAPING TO SAVE HERSELF!! Jim: AND AT THE FEET OF "SENSUOUS" SAMANTHA BEVINS! [CROWD POPS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: Samantha with her hands up and stepping back, as the Referee leaning through the ropes and ordering her to stay back, to keep away! The woman that wants to be the Alpha Female in SPW so badly, can she avoid getting involved in this match!? Jim: She'd better or Lara will throw her right out of here! Sean: Poet Wright now, sliding out and sees her chance! Tiffany trying to rise as Samantha staring down at her- Lane now sees Bevins- OH!! POET CRASHING INTO HER WITH A SOUPBONE PUNCH TO THE SMALL OF THE BACK!! [FANS ROAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: And now Poet Wright walking Lane around ringside- coming over here!? [Wright shouts out and whipping Tiffany around, throws her but Lane drops to a knee to send Poet colliding into the broadcast table and flipping right over the surface, the side and crashing down to the floor!!! The sounds of the announcers rushing to move follow as Tiffany hangs onto the edge for support!] [MONSTER FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [Poet Wright doesn't know what happened as she shoves up off the floor, and Tiffany Lane grabs her by the mask, to drag her back over the front as Wright's legs are still on the broadcast table- and Lane ducks under to lock upside and throws everything she has into the bridge to nail the Northern Lights Bomb right into the floor!!!!] [CROWD ROARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: NORTHERN LIGHTS BOMB AND POET WRIGHT SITTING UP- IS SHE OUT!?! Jack: THAT MAY VERY WELL DO IT! THESE SUPERSTARS JUST FIGHTING ALL OVER RINGSIDE! AND NOW TIFFANY LANE CAN HARDLY EVEN STAND!! Jim: Lara sliding out, Lane about done for yeah it's true! Wait a second Tiffany over and dropping to cover, she has the press she's making the cover on the floor!!! [SUPER FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] 1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 3-NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [FANS ROARING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jim: WRIGHT JUST KICKED OUT OF A NORTHERN LIGHTS BOMB ONTO THE FLOOR!!! Sean: TIFFANY DID NOT HAVE ENOUGH TO TAKE ADVANTAGE FAST ENOUGH-- WE ALMOST HAD A NEW CHAMP!! Jack: TIFFANY NOW SECURING THE LEG THIS TIME AND BRIDGING BACK TO COVER AGAIN! THE CONSUMMATE PROFESSIONAL! 1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [CROWD POPS!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: WRIGHT ROLLING OVER TO SMASH LANE ON HER FACE! LEGS OUT AND WRAPPING BOTH HANDS INTO THE THROAT! FULL ON THROAT CHOKE!!! [The crowd is screaming as Lane fights to get up to her feet! Hands gripping at Poet's fingers, she tries to pull the maniac from her neck, and reaching out her fists- brings the arms in to ear clap Poet Wright! The audience cheers, and Lane does it again!! Wright tries to lock a bearhug in as Tiffany stumbles them back into the desk- and Lane spreads her arms to nail Poet a third and final time as Poet Wright steps and taking Tiffany into the air, brings them both down straight through against the broadcast table!!!!] ****CRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSSHHHHHHH!!!!!!!***** [FANS CHEERING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: BOTH WOMEN HAVE KNOCKED THE TABLE OVER!! AND LANE DEVASTATED BUT POET JUST SACRIFICED HERSELF!! Jim: YOU AN'T BARE RE ANY ING!! Sean: ALL OUR EVERYTHING JUST KNOCKED OVER! BUT POET WRIGHT CRAWLING OVER, SHE HAS THAT LEG AND SHE HAS THE PIN ON TIFFANY!!! 1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 3!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ["Consumite Furor" begins as the audience roars out at seeing Poet Wright retain!! The fans are cheering as Lane is down, hurting and Poet goes up to her knees, staring out as her arms are raised up to the ceiling! The Referee comes over, handing her the World Championship as Wright takes it under her arm, cradling her title belt with passion as Lane is still down at her knees!!!] Stone: AND YOUR WINNER! POET! WWWRRRRIIIIIIGHT!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [CROWD ROARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: Poet Wright just went to war and came back victorious, she nearly almost injured herself to do it! Wright suplexing Tiffany through our Broadcast Table to do it, to get the win!! Is there anything this maniacal mind isn't capable of! Jim: A true Champion, her time is here, this is her prime ascension, she has halted the title ambitions of Tiffany Lane, at least for now, and Poet Wright moving one step closer towards greatness!! You have got to ask yourself, can anyone, is anyone capable of beating this woman at her best!? Is anyone able to defeat Poet Wright for that title, knowing full well the lengths she will go to keep that strap!? Sean: An excellent fight put forth from the Women's World Championship, and Poet Wright the one to make sure that she will be leaving Iconoclasm with that prestigious title around her waist. Your winner fans, and STILL Champion of the World, Ms. Poet Wright... and what a battle, what a war! Poet Wright may have cracked ribs and I'm almost positive Tiffany Lane does, especially after that. Wow, whatta match!! _____________________________________________________________________________ |_____________________________________________________________________________| |__ICONOCLASM_________________________________________________________________| [The scene fades backstage to "The Goddess" Nina Larue, navigating her way through the backstage area. She's clad in a cream-colored blouse, black pencil skirt, and heels, her black hair falling past her shoulders. There's a grin on her lovely face, which is promptly wiped away as she rounds a corner and is immediately struck, falling to her bottom. Nina grabs her head, shaking it for a moment, before looking up to see her assailant.] [CROWD ROARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [Iris Galiver.] Jack: WHAT'S THIS! IRIS GALIVER ATTACKING NINA LARUE!! Iris: Hehehe! I'm baaack! [MONSTER HEEL POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [Immediately, Nina seethes, memories all too fresh of her old rivalry with the hardcore legend, memories of her attacks on Nina and her friends, culminating in Iris breaking Nina's husband's arm. Nina snarls and immediately leaps to her feet.] Nina: You! [Nina leaps at Iris, pouncing on her old foe! Iris and Nina roll around on the ground for a few before Nina ends up on top. She grabs Iris by her hair and SLAMS her head into the concrete floor! Iris screams out loud as Nina grabs another handful of hair! Iris screams again, kicking Nina Larue in the gut. Nina bows over in pain as Iris climbs to her feet and begins kicking Nina in the side. A series of stiff kicks!] [CROWD BOOING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Iris: I'll get you, my pretty... and your little friend Tiffany Lane, too! [Iris holds the back of her head from the hit she took to the concrete floor. She grins and giggles loudly, grabbing Nina by the legs. Iris drags Nina's body around the corner... where we see two feet walk into view...] JCA: This is her, my sweet, the one that needed to be destroyed? [HUGE HEEL POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [Iris just nods her head rapidly, giggling and laughing at what one would assume is just the beginning of the damage. The feet belong to "Jester" Chad Allen, who has gotten onto the floor, his head right next to Nina's. He looks at her pain for a moment with a grin of evil intent before he speaks.] JCA: You see, Nina, you have made 2 mistakes today, one towards my sweet, and one towards me. [Jester holds up a finger on his left hand.] JCA: You have offended me by calling yourself a GODDESS. You see, Nina, you are what we have been talking about today, a false idol, a pretender, the proverbial golden calf if you will. You see, there is only ONE God, and ONE Goddess here in SPW now, and that is the Deities of Hardcore in myself and my sweet. [Jester looks to Iris with a sweet smile, which the "Pretty Pretty Princess" returns with a glow. Nina is starting to come out of her haze, but Jester simply grabs her by the hair and slams her head into the floor, putting her back into a semi state of unconciousness.] JCA: The offense you have done to Iris?? Well, that seems to be just EXISTING. She doesn't want you on this plane of existence anymore, and if that is what my Goddess wants... [Jester gets back to his feet, brushing off his jacket for a moment before giving a nod. The Children of Hardcore come in and each grab an arm of Nina Larue, standing her up in front of Iris.] JCA: Then she shall have it. Iris, the Children have your sacrifice ready for you.? They hope that you are pleased with the offering they have brought in front of you today. [Just as Iris is about to grab Nina Larue... someone runs behind the Children and double clotheslines them from behind!! The two fall crowd, Nina Larue falling face first with them! Iris Galiver begins screaming to the top of her lungs since her sacrifice want awry as the person grabs her by her red hair and tosses her into the wall!...] [CROWD SCREAMS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: ERICA TOUGHILL MAKING THE SAVE!!!! ["Jester" Chad Allen goes straight for Toughill, but Toughill is already halfway down the hallway, getting away from the hardcore Family. Meanwhile, a still groggy Nina has stumbled to her feet and made her way to a nearby exit, where she opens the door and slips through. JCA leans to his knees and grabs Iris, pulling her up. Iris screams loudly as JCA holds her tightly.] _____________________________________________________________________________ |_________________________________________________________________________SPW_| |_____________________________________________________________________________| [The arena lights completely go dead, and the crowd begins to buzz... like they do.] Jim: What the hell? [Suddenly, the arena is filled with the sound of Mozart's "Requiem," and a single spotlight slowly illuminates on the entrance ramp.] Sean: Was this even on the schedule? [Before too long, a man in a long hooded robe calmly makes his way into the spotlight. The hood is hanging low over the man's face, making him impossible to see, and the robe appears to be closed from the inside, either by some clasp or the man's own hands. As he enters the center of the spotlight, he stops.] Jim: Who's this guy? Sean: I don't know, Jim, but he certainly looks... I don't know how he looks. Jim: Very observant, Sean. [After a few moments pass, a loud booming voice is heard... we can only assume it's from our hooded friend.] Hooded Man: NOW, SHOOTFIRE... BEHOLD THE SECOND COMING! [Then, the robe whips open and, with a great flourish, the Hooded Man thrusts something out and places it in front of him... ...a dull-grey surgical steel chair!] Crowd: YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!! [And just as quickly, the arena hears the booming sound of Richard Dawson's voice...] Dawson V/O: It's............. SHOWTIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIME! [The robe is ripped off and cast aside as Sailva's "Ladies And Gentlemen" pounds through the arena's speakers... ...please, like you even were wondering who it was at this point!] Crowd: YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!! Sean: DAVE PIETKA! DAVE PIETKA! THE EVIL VOODOO ICON HIMSELF! Jim: HEAVY MENTAAAAAAL! [That's right, kiddies! Pietka stands there, dressed in an older "Heavy Mental is my G.A.W.D." T-shirt and a worn pair of jeans, his trademark chair in hand, and simply gazes out into the crowd, mouth agape in amazement, as the crowd goes completely bezerk for his return! He thrusts his chair into the air, and that garners a very large reaction from the house... and Pietka just eats it up!] Sean: FORMER WORLD CHAMPION! FORMER DIAMOND CHAMPION! CREATOR OF THE TOUR DE CARNAGE! ICON! HALL OF FAMER! One of the GREATEST SHOWMEN in Shootfire Pro Wrestling HISTORY and he has COME HOME! [As Pietka is making his way down to the ring, he seem almost taken aback by the crowd's reaction... or he could just be hamming it up, we don't know. All we can see is Pietka walking down the aisle, sliding his chair into the ring, and then entering the SPW's Squared Circle for the first time as a member of its Roster in over seven months.] [Without much further preamble, Pietka runs over to the corner and leaps onto second turnbuckle, presenting himself to the crowd and the flashblubs are BLINDING! He screams out at the crowd, transmitting his own admiration for the people, as they take picture after picture in what seems to be a rate of six per second.] Jim: Ever the showman! Ever the show-off! He certainly doesn't waste time getting people to react to him, doesn't he? Sean: The man's an entertainer, Jim. Jim: And a spotlight hog! [Pietka shoots his arm downward, making some kind of hand motion that translates to, "Gimme a microphone, dude!" As soon as he's handed one, he hops down from the turnbuckle and walks over to his chair, picking it up. As he looks around, chair in hand, the crowd's chanting becomes deafening.] "E-V-D!!!??? E-V-D!!!??? E-V-D!!!??? E-V-D!!!??? E-V-D!!!??? E-V-D!!!???" "E-V-D!!!??? E-V-D!!!??? E-V-D!!!??? E-V-D!!!??? E-V-D!!!??? E-V-D!!!???" "E-V-D!!!??? E-V-D!!!??? E-V-D!!!??? E-V-D!!!??? E-V-D!!!??? E-V-D!!!???" [Which only makes his unsettling smile that much bigger... as his grasp on the chair noticibly tightens...] Pietka: Evil Voodoo Army... [...he lifts the chair up, readying it.] Pietka: ...TEN ...HUT! [As soon as he shouts out "HUT!" he thrusts his chair into the air... and many in the crowd do the same, or they throw up their signs or chair mock-ups, and just scream out at Pietka.] Crowd: YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!! Sean: SAN DIEGO IS ON ITS FEET FOR THE EVIL VOODOO ICON! [Voodoo lowers his chair, and smiles at the crowd.] Pietka: Ladies and Gentlemen... Ever-Faithful and Sheeple Alike... and everyone watching at home, in the back, on some intergalactic satellite provider from the planet Zitron... ....I'M BAAAAAAAA-AAAAAAAAAACK!!! [The crowd erupts, and Pietka only nods his head.] Pietka: Yes, everyone... REJOICE... for I have been resurrected. It is the Second Coming, boys and girls, and Your Ol' Pal Voodoo is leading the charge! Does this mean that things are going to be changing in Shootfire? Does this mean that bigger, better, brighter, and bloodier things are looming on the horizon? Does this mean that Your Ol' Pal Voodoo is going to reclaim his right of being the Ringmaster of the Modern-Day Circus Maximus and lead you all into a new era of epic thrills and entertainments? ...YOU BET YOUR ASS, IT DOES! [As the crowd responds to that... rather favorably... Pietka bounds over to another corner, dropping his chair on the way, and leaps onto the turnbuckle again.] Pietka: So Messianic, don't you think? "Second Coming?" I mean, don't get me wrong, I always thought I gave rather GAWD-ly performances each time I set foot in a ring... but still... It's like I've been dead for three days when all I've been was gone for seven months. ...and boy, did I miss a lot. [Pietka smile takes a wily turn as he scans the crowd, looking at the reaction of every individual... as much as he can anyway.] Pietka: Invasions... Back-Stabbings... a new incarnation of the Black Mass... The Biz's memorial... and corruption from above... petty fear and jealousies that marred everything. But hey... I'm back now... nearly makes everything all better. ...but that's not to say the slate's clean, kiddies. Oh no... Your Ol' Pal Voodoo doesn't forget... and forgiveness is less likely than that! Sean: No doubt remembering the circumstances of his departure... and the people involved! [Pietka's wily smile fades away, replaced by the more "friendly" one... which is still freaky.] Pietka: But all in due time, kiddies! I think, for now, we need a refresher course. SPW needs to be reminded as to why Your Ol' Pal Voodoo was put in the Hall of Fame... why the Evil Voodoo Icon is one of the greatest entertainers and showmen every to grace its halls... why I AM... and will FOREVER BE... THE MAIN... FUCKING... ATTRACTION! Crowd: YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! Pietka: SPW's been denied its precious circus for long enough! It's time they got what they've been wanting! ...NOW HIT THAT FUCKING MUSIC! ["Ladies and Gentlemen" kicks back in, and Pietka thrusts the chair back into the air! Then... it happens!] Sean: HOLY HELL! Jim: WHOA! NOT THIS AGAIN!!!! [Without any call or motion from Pietka, other than his chair-thrust, the fans have started hurling things into the ring. Their souvenier chairs, the mock-ups they made, their signs... even some cups of soda and beer make it in... and Voodoo just revels in it. He catches one sign with his free hand, and holds it into the air... "THE EVIL VOODOO ARMY HAS COME BACK TO H.Q.!"] Sean: Evil Voodoo Dave has them eating out of his hand, as they throw anything they can into the ring, in respect to the man who is standing there right now! Jim: Well they SHOULDN'T! Who the hell's gonna clean this up? Pietka certainly ain't! See... he's actually leaving now! [Jim's right! Pietka leapt off the turnbuckle and started making his way back up the ramp, holding his chair up high as he walks, slapping hands with some of the Shootfire fans as he makes his way back up, calling out for the people... and they answer him right back!] _____________________________________________________________________________ |_____________________________________________________________________________| |__ICONOCLASM_________________________________________________________________| Deathwish Cage Match SHOOTFIRE ARMY -vs- THE INVADERS _____________________________________________________________________________ |_________________________________________________________________________SPW_| |_____________________________________________________________________________| [Far above, the massive and monolithic steel cage structure begins to lower down over the ring. The fans begin to start a cheer as the Deathwish Cage Match is set to begin... the bars, sterling and polished descend en masse as the cage comes down... barbed wire visible as its strung along the top in rolls of jagged metal spikes....] Sean: Ladies and Gentlemen, and as we watch the Deathwish Cage lower down over the ringside area, I'm being told that at this time, James O'Connor is not yet back from the hospital, but Henry Spikes has assured me that a suitable replacement has been accepted, in exchange for his wish to be granted should the Shootfire Army win. Who this man is, is unknown to all of us here at the broadcast booth... but right now we are awaiting the arrival of The Invaders. [That all too familiar bass drum sample from Iggy Pop's "Nightclubbing" starts to thump in over the PA system, easily recognized as the beginning of Nine Inch Nail's "Closer." Every drum beat cuts through the audience's sinuses like Barry Baldwin's wit through a stick of butter; the volume is mixed up for maximum tension. The lights suddenly cut out, leaving menacing darkness. Members of the crowd immediately start pulling out their flash photography, every blinding flashbulb further bringing up the levels of tension in the anxious crowd. The superstar making an appearance seems to be taking his sweet time, waiting for the vocals to kick in. This is more self-indulgent then that Eddie Christian promo you once sat through!] "You let me violate you You let me desecrate you You let me penetrate you You let me complicate you" [A chorus of boos! Finally some action, questionable camerawork shakes through the audiences looking for livid reaction shots, before turning to the source of their hate. Two white gloves push through the black entrance curtains, running along the material before parting them...] "HELP ME I broke apart my insides" [A sudden burst of white fireworks cut through the darkness, as a few spotlights dance around the entrance. Jumping out onto the stage is the 2nd Generation of Vile "Vince" Viper. Flashbulbs, and trash, fly as the self- proclaimed "leader" of the Invasion greets the capacity crowd with his WINNING SMILE. Dressed to impress, Jean Pierre Celine is decked out in a sparkling red, snakeskin tuxedo. Thrusting out one of his white gloved claws, Crimson Cobra smacks aside some debris headed his way, before running his fingers through his long, bleach blond locks.] "HELP ME I've got no Soul to tell" [Before the curtains have even fallen back, "Wild" Bill Ian bats the things aside, showing off his respective "RIP Millie" and "Live to Revolt" tattoos. The crowd suddenly stop throwing trash. They want to peg Celine, but are worried they'd miss... and they sure as hell don't want to hit Bill. Not because they like him, but because Bill is one dangerous mother fucker. He already seems to be in a bad mood. Maybe he started drinking early. As The Wild One steps out into the lights, orange fireworks explode!!!] ***BBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!!!*** ***BBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!!!*** ***BBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!!!*** "HELP ME The only thing that works for me" [Following Bill is the equally intimidating Mastodon. The fireworks turn to purple, as the massive frame of Nathan Taylor pushes out of the back. The big man is decked out in his usual black and red ensemble, though sporting a little more tape than usual. Clearly hurting from his previous showdown, Taylor sports serious bandaging around his arms and ribs, this somehow makes him look even more ripped. Giant muscles jet out around every stripe of black tape. Ignoring the audience, Taylor methodically stomps down the aisle in sync with the music, a bloodlust in his eyes.] "HELP ME get away from myself" [Coming up the rear is the recent addition to the main event's motley crew, with the fireworks switching to the scarlet of Red Dragon. As the masked man steps out slowly, the fireworks triple, with the spotlights now searching through the crowd, hoping to give some autistic kid a seizure. Leaflets start falling from the ceiling, photo shopped pictures show the various SPW stars in a state of degenerate sexual activity. Distributing pornography at a family show, seems to be the last straw for the long suffering Shootfire faithful, many of whom try to jump the guardrail. Idiots. The masked man joins the other three, before the fearsome foursome start making their way down the aisle.] "I want to fuck you like an animal I want to feel you from the inside I want to fuck you like an animal My whole existence is flawed You get me closer to god" [A double-up security is working overtime, trying to keep the angry Shootfire sheep from jumping the railing to mob our favourite antagonists. Rather than take pity on the working class stiff risking life and limb for their safety, the fabulous four decide to slow down their pace, bringing the angry mob to a fever pitch. Oh, and the song lyrics might suit the situation... remember the last time that happened? Me neither.] "You can have my isolation, you can have the hate that It brings You can have my absence of faith, you can have my Everything HELP ME! Tear down my reason, HELP ME! It's your sex I Can smell HELP ME! You make me perfect, HELP ME! become somebody else" [One of the assholes actually manages to jump the rail. Grabbing him by the throat, Nathan Taylor tosses the faggot through the air, into the opposite side of the angry crowd. The ever smoking European, pulls out another cigarette to suck down. Red Dragon tosses a small fireball, lighting the cigarette, while incensing the crowd who remembers the injury he caused Rey Futuro. Thinking about what a long night it's going to be, "Wild" Bill pulls out his flask, taking a swig of whisky... before spitting it in the face of one of the kids that crowd around the guardrail.] "I want to fuck you like an animal I want to feel you from the inside I want to fuck you like an animal My whole existence is flawed You get me closer to god" [Arriving at ringside, the ferocious four slowly make their way into the ring. It's a big house tonight. Red Dragon steps to one of the corners, while a bored looking "Wild" Bill leans back in a corner, taking it easy. Nathan Taylor moves back and forth around the ropes, staring down at the fans with murder in his eyes. Celine takes a few drags on his cigarette before tossing it at a production assistant. Plants in the audience toss red and black streamers at the Invader army, covering the ring, before the last set of white fireworks go off. Red and black... hey, a similar theme in the clothing of the Invader team! That gives them one thing in common. One more thing than Shootfire Pro...] "Through every forest, above the trees Within my stomach, scraped off my knees I drink the honey inside your hive You are the reason I stay alive" Sean: And here we go, the most important match in Shootfire history to this date. [The lights go down and we hear a recording of World War 2 General George S. Patton] Patton: May God have mercy upon my enemies, because I won't. [CROWD CHEERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [The PA rings out as "Run This Town" by Jay-Z begins to play. We hear Rihanna's produced voice introduce us to team SPW. Spotlights shine down on different parts of the stage.] "Feel it coming in the air Hear the screams from everywhere I'm addicted to the thrill (I'm Ready) It's a dangerous love affair (C'mon) Can't be scared when it goes down Got a problem, tell me now Only thing that's on my mind Is who gon' run this town tonight Is who gon' run this town tonight We gon' run this town" [After a moment, the spotlight lit areas are filled one by one as all four members of the Shootfire Army. Marissa Monet wears glossy black spandex trunks, exposing her muscular thighs, hard black knee pads and knee-high black leather boots along with a midriff-baring glossy black spandex halter top that shows off her ripped abdomen and her shoulders. On her right hand she wears a black, fingerless glove. She stands at the top of the ramp, arms folded across her chest. Her biceps bulge with the action, displaying the "God's Child" tattoo on her right shoulder and the striking shark logo on her left biceps. She stares at the fans first on one side and then stares at them on the next. Her lips slowly curl back into a big sexy and lusty smile. Eddie's attire is composed of a black wife-beater, black loose fitting leather pants with crossing on each side. His swagger is undeniable, his confidence is teetering to the level of arrogance, as he looks at his teammates, nodding at each one of them in approval. Knight, wearing a black wife-beater, jeans and boots, pounds his chest with his right hand. He takes a couple steps towards the crowd and pulling his leg out, heads forward with a steely determination. The audience is on their feet, supporting Knight as they roar out for their heroes!!] [CROWD POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [HUGE FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [As the song continues to play, Sammy looks to his team and points down the aisle towards the steel structure that surrounds the ring. He begins to walk down the aisle and his army follows behind.] "We are, yeah, I said it, we are This is Roc Nation, pledge your allegiance Get y'all fatigues on, all black everything Black cards, black cars, all black everything And our girls are blackbirds, riding with they Dillingers I get more in-depth if you boys really real enough This is La Familia, I'll explain later But for now, let me get back to this paper I'm a couple bands down and I'm tryin to get back I gave Doug a grip, I lost a flip for five stacks Yeah, I'm talking five comma six zeroes dot zero zigga Back to running circles 'round niggas, now we squared up Hold up" Sean: And Bonecrusher and O'Connor not here at the Sports Arena, and it looks like Monet, Eddie Christian and Sammy Knight coming out here to compete, but how much can Sammy do, how far can he go? Jim: The Heart of this man is unquestionable, but can he come back from one of the biggest losses in his career and survive a fight like the Deathwish Cage!? You know I don't know what Knight should do or where he has to dig his passion from, but we need him at his best, if that's even possible. Jack: And where is the fourth man? Who is this man who we heard would be replacing JOC? "Life's a game but it's not fair I break the rules so I don't care So I keep doing my own thing Walking tall against the rain Victory's within the mile Almost there, don't give up now Only thing that's on my mind Is who gon' run this town tonight Heeeeeeeeey heeeeeeay Heeeeeeeeey heeeeeeay Who gon' run this town tonight?" [By this point, The Shootfire Army is at ringside. One by one, they climb inside the cage. The music fades as ring announcer Steve Stone lifts his cards up] Steve Stone: In the cage at this time... representing Shootfire Pro Wrestling... they are the four finest athletes in this company today... First... FROM BROOKLYN, NEW YORK... STANDING SIX FOOT SIX... TWO HUNDRED AND TWENTY POUNDS... SHE IS... MAAAAAAAAARISSAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!! MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONET!!!! [RABID CHEERS! THEY STAND AT ATTENTION! THEY SET OFF A LIGHTNING STORM OF FLASHBULBS! THEY CHANT HER NAME!] "SHARK! SHARK! SHARK! SHARK!" "SHARK! SHARK! SHARK! SHARK!" "SHARK! SHARK! SHARK! SHARK!" "SHARK! SHARK! SHARK! SHARK!" Jack: Well this is what she wanted, she wanted this chance, and every single eye in this arena is on her to see how hard she's willing to fight for it. It's time to find out. [Marissa, arms folded, head bowed, dances a two step, letting the music, the atmosphere and the energy of the crowd wash over her. You can see how much she is feeling the moment.] Stone: Next....FROM JACKSONVILLE, FLORIDA... WEIGHING IN AT TWO HUNDRED AND TWENTY TWO POUNDS.... BORNNNNNN CHAMMMMPIONNNNNNNN EDDDDIEEEEEE CHRISSSSTIANNNNNN!!!!!!!!!!!!! [BIG CROWD POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Stone: And the Captain... FROM COMPTON CALIFORNIA, STANDING 6 FOOT 4 AND WEIGHING IN AT 250 POUNDS, SAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMMY! KNIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHT!!!!!!!!! [MEGA MONSTER FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [There's definitely a camaraderie amongst this group as Knight proudly stands with his team at arms. Knight peers over at his teammates and nods at them, never breaking his focus.] Stone: They are... THE SHOOOOOOTFIRRRREEEEE ARRRRRMYYYYYYYY!!!!! [EXPLOSIVE ROAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: Knight, Monet, Christian, all in the cage-- Stone: AND THEIR PARTNER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [CROWD ROARING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [The lights suddenly go out. Silence. Darkness. And then, spotlights: illuminating the arena with a greenish hue, hovering all around before converging on a single point near the entrance aisle. A droning sound is heard] "We've always been this to feel all this pain! We've always been this to feel all this pain!" [CROWD SCREAMS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [A mysterious coffin emerges from a pit located beneath the entrance aisle, rising upwards from beneath the depths of the stage! Greenish lights from the projectors glance off from the polished finish of the coffin as the camera does a close-up. Smoke seeps from the dark pit, enveloping the sinister casket with a greenish haze as the light reflects from it. Then the sound melds into a familiar tone...] BOOOOOOOOOH! BOOOOOOOOOH! ["What's up People", the second opening to Deathnote rings in as SPOOKY DOOM steps right out of the coffin, unable to rock out to the gibbering music due to the arduous stress of the 8 Belt Ladder Match earlier on in the evening. The Grim Avenger of Lucha Libre, muscular luchador with his ribs taped up points out across the fans!! White hood over the sinister mask and only his jaw and mouth visible, flaming skeleton pants showing up glow in the dark: Spooky Doom going by the fans as he raises a hand, devil horns in the air!] [HUGE FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: NOOOOO!!! SPOOKY DOOM! Jim: WHAT! HAHA NO WAY!!!! "Benribenri banzai benribenri banzai Benribenri banzai ningen Benribenri banzai benribenri banzai Benribenri banzai ningen" [PYROS! THUNDER!] "What's up fuanzai ippai Hanzai kienai towani What's up fuanzai ippai" [Camera finds a few kids wearing Spooky Doom masks: Spooky Doom slapping the occasional hand as he makes his way towards the ring. He enters under the cage grating, still holding his taped ribs as he climbs the ring steps. He steps inside with some difficulty, striking a ~SPOOKY~ pose as he lands! If nothing else, he's still got style, and style impresses.] Stone: FROM DEATH VALLEY CALIFORNIA, STANDING 5 FOOT 7 AND WEIGHING IN AT 212 POUNDS! THIS IS THE UNDEAD SUPERSTAR... THE GRIM AVENGER OF LUCHA LIBRE... SPOOKY! DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMM!!!!!!!!!! [FANS CHEER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jim: I CAN'T BELIEVE DOOM IS OUT HERE AND THE FOURTH PARTNER!! Sean: AND THE SHOOTFIRE ARMY-- THE CAGE IS LOWERING! *DINGDINGDINGDINGDINGDING!!! [FANS CHEER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: And only barbed wire rings surround the top there is no way in, there is only one way out and that is submission! One of these men will have to quit and leave the cage via tapout to end it for their team, which team can pull it together, which team can win!? Jim: Doom not acting right, hunching down in the corner as he knows this is the biggest night of his life, can Doom even wrestle? I mean, I know he always does really well in the cage, but Oh man he'd better pull out all the stops and how he can even compete, after he smashed into the railing, hit his ribs into the guardrail during the 8 Belt Ladder Match earlier tonight. Sean: Absolutely. This is the big one and especially Sammy Knight, how is he in ANY shape to survive?? The most important match of all of these competitors' careers. They all know they are going to bleed and hurt and suffer, but they've got each other's backs and nobody on this team is going to quit. And because so much is on the line you are going to see them step outside themselves and get really, really violent to succeed. Otherwise they're dead. [Fade to Shadoe Rage in the crowd, a light-skinned biracial man who wears his shoulder length hair in a nest of locks. He's wearing a pink Marissa Monet graphic T-shirt, jeans and sandals. He claps his hands and shouts, cheering his wife on] Jack: And a look at Shadoe Rage, Monet's husband watching here in San Diego for Iconoclasm. He knows this is the toughest challenge of Marissa's life and he's out here to support her. I gotta think he as well as the massive contingent from the Shootfire Faithful are all behind Monet in this fight, all the more reason for her to make all her dreams come true by winning. [Monet, Christian, Knight and now Doom trudges up, leaning over as the first three line up in a triangle... Spooky leaning over as he holds his ribs and Ian, Celine, Taylor and Dragon split up to surround them on all sides. A fan yells out as Nathan charges right at the entire group, screaming as he crashes into all of them as hard as he can!!] [FANS ROAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: THE MASTODON BARRELLING THROUGH THE ARMY! Jim: AND CELINE INTO CHRISTIAN! Eddie whipping around back behind as he wraps in the sleeper, Celine sidestepping and picking Christian up for the suplex, Christian flipping over back behind to land on his feet! Jack: Wild Bill into Monet and slugging her but Marissa twisting his arm over sideways and rolling into a kneestrike to the back! Top Wristlock applied- Wild Bill with a handful of hair and wrenches Monet back down to the mat! Sean: Nathan taking up Sammy RED DRAGON leapfrogging over Nathan's back to sunset flip with legs into the canvas- Knight hanging onto Taylor! And Spooky DOOM slams the Dropkick into Red Dragon's chest!! [CROWD POPS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [Knight smashes Taylor with the forearm, and then starts beating him back! The fans get behind Sammy as he unleashes fist after fist into Nathan's jaw, beginning to rock the big man backwards across the ring, throwing shot after shot and Taylor slams the hip right into Knight's stomach!!] Jim: Ohhh! That will stop anyone dead in his tracks! And Nathan with the goozle! [CROWD POPS!!!!!!!] Sean: Eddie Christian with the sleeperhold on Jean Pierre Celine, trying to put him out- Celine pulling sideways and shoving Eddie off to send him running at the cage! Jack: Monet bridging all the way back up to turn the wrist over and reverse the armwringer into Wild Bill Ian! She is trying to wrestle him and that may be a smart idea. Jim: Taylor has Sammy in the air, taking him high no! Sammy chops the side of his neck! And like he cracked him good! He drops down to his feet and Sammy Knight once again smashing into The Mastadon with a thunderous right hand!! Jack: EDDIE WITH THE FLYING CROSSBODY AND TAKING CELINE DOWN!! [FANS CHEER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: Spooky Doom on top of Red Dragon and punching away, the fight in this kid is so evident! Dragon trying to fight up, Red DRAGON with a forearm to the head! And now whipping Doom into the ropes, slams the Savate kick into Spooky Doom's ribs! And now winding in the abdominal stretch, the Red Dragon grinding the point of his elbow right into those taped up ribs. [Sammy goes for the Snapmare but Taylor blocks and lifting Knight into the air, turns and chokeslams him straight down so hard the entire ring shakes!! The fans roar out, impressed as Nathan raises the massive elbow and screams out as he leaps into the air, landing to crash it down across Sammy, Knight kicking and convulsing in pain] Jim: And these guys just doing what it takes, some real damage evident in the popular Sammy Knight but can you blame him? Nathan Taylor on Knight and hand down into the throat, just choking Taylor- oh Knight rather, and choking the life out of him!! Jack: Monet being grappled back into the corner- and WILD BILL SLAPS THE CHOP ACROSS HER CHEST!! ***SSSSSSMMMAAAAAACK!!!!!**** Jim: WHOO!!! Sean: MONET HURT- AND ANSWERING BACK HARD KNIFE EDGE!!! ***SSSSSSSSSSSMMMAAAAAAAACK!*** Jim: WHOOO!!! Jack: And BILL lets the haymaker fly! Marissa ducked! And shoulderblock into the back of Ian's legs, oh the single leg now and takedown!! Marissa Monet just relentless, if she gets that dangerous heel hook locked we could be seeing a submission sooner than later! [Spooky Doom manages a hiptoss on Red Dragon sending him flying over! Dragon slams off the mat as Spooky charges across the ring, rushing back to take to the air and nail Dragon with a flying forearm! The fans cheer out as Doom plows over Dragon with the clothesline, then as Red Dragon gets up Doom charges but Red Dragon spins to toss the man clear over the top rope!! Spooky Doom is somehow able to land on his feet as Dragon turns around, and turning back he throws up his shoulder as Doom springboards off the top to snap out the Missile Dropkick knocking Dragon right over!!] [CROWD CHEERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: And Sammy Knight with two hands around Nathan's wrist! FORCING it from his neck! Rolling over and over twisting the arm as Taylor trying to fight through, Sammy standing to rise with the top armbar how does he even do that!? Sammy with the big man in control!! Jack: Eddie Christian has Jean Pierre Celine over in the ropes, and climbing up he unloads with a fist to the face! Oh! The stakes so high in this one, the Army vs the Invaders, it will take a submission to win this match!! Eddie leaping up and feet in the stomach- rolling back and send JPC launching with the Monkey Flip! Jim: CELINE LANDED ON HIS FEET!! Sean: RIGHT INTO A SPOOKY DOOM CLOTHESLINE!! [FANS CHEERING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [Marissa pulls up on the leg as Ian sits up and rakes into her face!! Monet shoves away, gripping at her eyes as Wild Bill rises to take her up over his shoulder and hauling her over his shoulder, runs her right upside down into the corner, then turns and charges the middle of the ring to fly, smashing her straight into the mat with the Oklahoma Powerslam!] [HUGE HEEL POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: DOOM THROWING THE LARIAT! Sean: IAN DUCKED AND CAUGHT THE HEAD- HANGMAN'S NECKBREAKER! Jim: OHHH!! And Wild Bill Ian and Jean Pierre Celine coming together as Sammy Knight off the ropes- FLYING DOUBLE SHOULDERTACKLE INTO THE DEFIANT ONES!! [HUGE FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: And now Sammy, Doom, Monet and Christian reforming their phalanx, oh this has to be a brutal strategy, they are pulling in, protecting themselves, they have really come back together and these fans in the San Diego Sports Arena love it! Jim: It's an attack and shift strategy, as Nathan Taylor now getting up and Eddie Christian now attacking him with a series of quick shots to the face, Marissa Monet over to attack Jean Pierre Celine, hooking him up with a FISH HOOK to the mouth!? Jack: Sammy Knight on Wild Bill and twisting the armlock over, backing the man up at the ropes it's true, they have switched up on opposition but their avenues for attack have stayed the same, divide and conquer! Spooky Doom back on The Red Dragon and sends him running at the ropes! [Doom ducks for the backdrop but Dragon twists to roll off Spooky's back, coming up and kicking out the legs as he jumps for the legs to stand up twisting in the mexican bow and arrow as he rocks back taking Spooky Doom up into the air!! Wild Bill rips the arm over and Sammy grabs the top rope, kicking himself up and backwards to land on his feet but Bill smashes the kneelift and taking Knight to the air, drops him with the Hotshot across the top rope!] [HEEL POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: Eddie Christian around Nathan Taylor's neck, cobra clutch winding in as Wild Bill celebrates to the SPW FANS- SAMMY KNIGHT GETTING RIGHT UP BEHIND HIM!!!! [MONSTER FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jim: BILL Celebrating! Turn around Ian! Jack: SAMMY SPINS HIM AROUND AND BILL SWINGS WILDLY! Sean: KNIGHT DUCKED IT- AND LETS THE GHETTOBLASTA FLY!!!! *******CRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!******** [MONSTROUS FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [Marissa drags around Celine and slams the kneelift into his forehead, reaching over to wrap the joint manipulation but Jean Pierre drops and lowblows her! The fans roar out as he looks up in shock and Marissa knees him again, right in the face!! Celine hits the canvas and rolls outside as Marissa drops out to give chase!] Sean: I can't believe Jean Pierre Celine, even in a dangerous war-like setting he's STILL one of the most unorthadox wrestlers, Invader or no! But for the first time the fight going to the outside of the ring and if I'm in the Shootfire Army, I don't know if that's a place I really want to be! Jim: Well they can't do their phalanx apart, but whatever Bonecrusher did, this divide and conquer then change up plan seems to be working just fine! It's like they all have specific strategies for combatting each opponent and playing to their own strengths to get it done, even without JOC to do fight alongside them! Jack: Who we know would be here bleeding and swinging if he could!! But thanks to Scott Starring James O'Connor and Barry Baldwin taken out of action with still no word from The Bonecrusher, the General of this Shootfire Army! [Nathan Taylor gets up with a roar and reaching back, snapmares Eddie Christian right off his neck! He stands up to full height, and Spooky Doom leaps clear off the top rope to throw out the arm and catch Nathan for the bulldog right into the mat!] [CROWD CHEERING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: OHHH! NICELY DONE! SECOND ROPE BULLDOG AND ONCE AGAIN DOOM TO A KNEE, HIS RIBS HURTING!! Sean: Sammy Knight into Red Dragon, beating him against the corner! Oh! Throwing punches to smash the man with everything he has, Dragon trying to fight free but Knight utilizing power to overwhelm the Masked Man- Dragon said he wanted Sammy well he's getting him! [FANS POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jim: Jean Pierre Celine trying to get away from Marissa Monet, and crawling under the ring!?! [The camera goes to Sierra Browne in the front row, a dark-skinned 5'11 Afro- Caribbean woman. She wears her hair in a short afro and will be sporting a gold tank top and black jeans. Marissa pulls on JPC's leg, torquing in an ankle lock as she drags Celine out- who blasts her with a spurt of CO2!!!] ****FFFWWWWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSSHHHHH!!!!!!!**** Jack: CELINE WITH FIRE EXTINGUISHER INTO MARISSA MONET! Sean: AND RIGHT IN FRONT OF HER BEST FRIEND SIERRA, HER WHOLE FAMILY IS WATCHING THIS!! [FANS ROARING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jim: Spooky Doom hauling The Red Dragon up against the ropes- and runs AND CLOTHESLINES THE ASIAN SUPERSTAR CLEAR BACK OVER THE TOP ROPE!! [FANS CHEER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [Knight shouts out as he wrenches back on the legs, Taylor trapped in the Lockdown, Knight doing everything he can to hold back on the legs while Eddie Christian adds to the pain with a leaping elbow drop!! San Diego roars out as Celine leaps through the air, smashing the heel kick right into Sammy and knocking him off of Nathan!!] Jack: AND SPOOKY DOOM LEAPING TO SMASH THE FLYING CLOTHESLINE INTO JEAN PIERRE CELINE!!! Jim: And Doom down once again! Knight really hurting as Nathan kicks free, how much more, oh you just gotta wonder, how much more can either Sammy OR Spooky take!?! Sean: Monet hurting against the cage- OH! CELINE THREW THE CAN RIGHT AT HER!! [HUGE HEEL POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: And now Jean Pierre once again searching underneath! OH! He has the LEAD PIPE! [The fans boo out as Celine reaches under and pulls out a chair! Pausing, he sees something else but muttering in French he steps up and decides on the pipe, raising up his arm to swing the pipe at the blinded Monet but Sammy grabs his wrist! The fans roar out as Celine turns in surprise and Knight grabs the choke to SLAM JPC up against the cage!!!] ****CRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!**** Sean: KNIGHT making the save for Marissa Monet! And he has JPC struggling up against the bars, just, just choking him out! Jim: It is SO GREAT to see the Shootfire Army united, to the best of their abilities! Oh I hope they win, I hope they really find a way to pull it through!! Jack: Eddie and Spooky taking turns beating down on Nathan Taylor! I hear you guys both and I agree! Irish whip for the... IRISH WHIP FOR THE! NO!! TAYLOR WITH THE DOUBLE SHORT ARM CLOTHESLINE!!! [CROWD ROARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: OH NO!!! Jim: AND THAT'S NOT EASY TO DO!! [Nathan Taylor irish whips Eddie Christian into the ropes, Eddie comes back as Taylor ducks his head for a back body drop, Christian leaps stepping off of Taylor's back into the air! Taylor rises back to normal standing looking for Christian as Christian comes back landing on Taylor's head and shoulders in the hurracanranna!] Sean: TAYLOR DOES NOT GO OVER- INSTEAD HE HAULS EDDIE INTO THE AIR FOR THE POWERBOMB!! Jack: EDDIE! PUNCHING AWAY AS HE BRINGS DOWN PUNCHES AND BACKFLIPS OFF OF NATHAN'S SHOULDERS TO LAND AND DROPKICK THE MASTADON!!!! [FANS CHEERING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: NATHAN ON WOBBLY LEGS! EDDIE RUNS THE SIDE! SPOOKY DOOM CRAWLING BEHIND TAYLOR! AND EDDIE THROUGH THE AIR THROWS OUT THE LEAPING SUPERKICK!! ***CRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAACKKKKKK!!!!!*** Jim: TAYLOR FALLING RIGHT OVER SPOOKY DOOM!!! [MONSTER FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [Celine is fighting and kicking as Sammy Knight is literally strangling him up against the cage! Flash to a shot of Madeline Monet in the front row, looking on as her daughter Marissa is currently trying to wipe the foam from her eyes ...her mother cheering and praying, willing Monet back up as Celine drools out blue mist and rubs it into the eyes of Sammy Knight!] [CROWD BOOING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: OHHH! COME ON NOW! CELINE DOING WHATEVER IT TAKES! AND JEAN PIERRE HAULING BACK AND LETS THE GROIN KICK FLY!! Jim: MONET BLOCKS THE KICK!!! WRENCHING THE LEG OVER- AND DRAGON SCREW ON JPC!!! Sean: AND SAMMY HAS THE CHAIR!!! [HUGE FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: The Red DRAGON reaching over the side, he's got the chair from Sammy and pulling it away! Sammy struggling as Dragon takes it up, turning inside and Spooky Doom SPINNING HEEL KICKS THE CHAIR RIGHT IN HIS FACE!! *****CCCCRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAASHHHH!!!***** [MONSTER FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jim: Nathan Taylor getting up- and Doom tossing Eddie Christian the chair! OH! Eddie hauls off and JAMS the edge of that chair, right into his ribs! My lord bring out the tape for that man's ribs!! And Eddie holding the chair up as Doom and the Shootfire Audience roar out! Sean: Sammy Knight hurting, down to a leg as Marissa Monet choking Celine out on the floor with the pipe down into his throat! A wave of exhaustion passing over Sammy Knight, oh man he has to be feeling it now! Jack: And Celine kicking and these fans loving it! They want to see the Invaders being forced to tap out!! Jim: This is Shootfire fighting against overwhelming odds, but coming together to fight for a common cause, a common good! Monet, Christian, Doom, Knight, all of them putting their differences aside in order to win this match! Sean: Wild Bill searching under the ring on the far side- coming around with the WHISKEY Bottle in hand!! That thing is huge, like a giant glass jug! And Monet is up as Ian runs and SLAMS THE BOTTLE INTO HER HEAD!! [HUGE HEEL POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: Do NOT count Wild Bill Ian out of a brawl! That's where he excels!! And now Ian waiting as Sammy fighting to get to his feet- WILD BILL CHARGES AND SLAMS THE BOTTLE INTO HIS FACE!!! [CROWD ROARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: KNIGHT DOWN AND BUSTED OPEN!! AND THAT JAR DOESN'T BREAK! Jim: Wild Bill now taking Marissa up and tossing her back inside the ring, Jean Pierre right in to pound on her as the Invaders well they smell a little blood in the water! [Jean Pierre Celine punches Marissa Monet across the face as Red Dragon hooks her arms! Celine grabs his throat and Dragon does the same as Marissa ducks and Dragon spits red mist right int Celine's face!!!] [CROWD ROARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: OHHH!! AND DRAGON SPAT THE MIST IN JEAN PIERRE'S EYES!! Jim: AND MARISSA BACK ELBOWS DRAGON! AND HOOKING CELINE- TAKES HIM UP AND STO!! [MONSTER FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: Marissa Monet and Eddie Christian head over to set up the chair, and both go to suplex Celine up!! Monet and Christian suplexing CELINE NATHAN TAYLOR CAUGHT HIM! AND SHOVES HIM BACK DOWN THE OTHER WAY CELINE HITS THE DOUBLE DDT ON EDDIE AND MONET! [CROWD BOOS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: THE MASTADON OVER! HOOKING THE ARMS OF MARISSA MONET! NO!! NO!!!! Jim: AAAIIIEEE!!! *****CCRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSSHHHHH!!!!!****** Jack: INTO THE AIR AND NATHAN TAYLOR HITS THE COMPACTOR RIGHT DOWN ACROSS THE OPEN STEEL CHAIR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [Marissa kicks out and struggles as she can only roll from the ring, falling off the edge and collapsing off the side! Eddie screams out and flies into Taylor, slamming fist after fist as Nathan tries to take a step backwards, and grabbing Eddie's waistband, screams out as he throws Christian straight out but Eddie lands on his feet! Dragon rolls up as Nathan charges with the flying pump kick but Eddie is able to duck and roll as Nathan slams the bicycle kick clear into Dragon, smashing his own partner sideways and Red Dragon's head smashes off the second turnbuckle!!] [CROWD ROARING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: NATHAN TAYLOR CAN'T BELIEVE IT! THE RED DRAGON PRACTICALLY OUT! Jim: SAMMY TO THE TOP ROPE!?! [CROWD ROARING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: KNIGHT WITH THE PIPE IN HAND! YOU GOTTA BE KIDDING ME!! Jack: HIS FACE A MASK OF BLOOD! SAMMY OFF THE TOP AND NATHAN CATCHES HIM!! OH HE CAUGHT THE CROSSBODY- Jim: SAMMY SMASHED HIM WITH THE PIPE ANYWAY!!! [Knight lands on his feet as Nathan stagger steps- and Sammy screams out as he hauls the man straight up into the air! Sammy Knight elevates The Mastadon clear upside down, and his leg is shaking and threatening to break as Knight falls down smashing the Blood Drop on Nathan Taylor!] [MEGA MONSTER FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: HO MY GOD!! GOOD LORD! UNBELIEVABLE! SAMMY KNIGHT STILL HAD ENOUGH TO PULL UP AND HIT, AND SUCCESSFULLY LAND THE MASTODON WITH THE BLOOD DROP!!!!!!! [FANS CHEERING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jim: AND IAN AND JPC UP AND READY TO KILL OFF KNIGHT ONCE AND FOR GOOD!! Sean: BUT SPOOKY DOOM CRAWLING UP, READY TO FIGHT BACK! TO DEFEND HIS CAPTAIN!! "SPW!!!!!" "SPW!!!!!" "SPW!!!!!" "SPW!!!!!" "SPW!!!!!" "SPW!!!!!" Jack: Sammy Knight and Spooky Doom fighting back to back! Brawling it out with Celine and Ian, the Defiants attacking strong with this last vestige, oh this last bastion of fight from The Defiant One as Knight and Doom brawling it out!! Sean: How is Sammy even fighting this!? Oh he has lost so much blood as he grapples with "Wild" Bill Ian, twisting the arm over and Doom throws the punch into Celine- JPC dodges and pokes Spooky in his eyes!! Jim: Doom standing straight up for that one whoa he just grew about five inches!! What the HECK? [Spooky Doom stands to full height as Sammy turns in surprise and Doom socks him with the fist right across the mouth!!] [CROWD ROARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: WHAT THE HELL! Jack: SPOOKY DOOM TURNS ON SPW!!!!! Sean: NOOOOOOO!! HE CAN'T! Jim: HEY THAT IS NOT DOOM! HE IS WAY TOO TALL!!! [Spooky Doom drags Sammy over, twisting the arm into the hammerlock and kicks out the legsweep to smash the DDT!!!!] ***WWWHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMMMM!!!!!**** Jack: STAR KILLER! STAR KILLER!! STAR KILLER FROM- FROM- [Doom rips off his mask! And the fans roar out!!!] Sean: IT'S SCOTT FUCKING STARRING!!!!! [MONSTROUS HEEL POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [The audience explodes as Starring stares out, eyes raging and livid with fury! He reaches down as Sammy Knight is crawling up and Scott pulls his head under his arm, wrapping in the hammerlock and twisting around, looks out across the fans and yells "SPW!" before smashing the Star Killer again!!] [MONSTROUS HEEL POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: SCOTT STARRING JUST TURNED ON SPW! AND WE THOUGHT HE WALKED OUTTA THE BUILDING! Jim: I THOUGHT SPOOKY WAS HURT DUE TO HIS TAPED RIBS, HUNCHED OVER BUT IT WAS STARRING THE ENTIRE TIME! Sean: THAT's why was hunched over and hiding in the corner! OH And now Celine and Ian sliding to the outside, they want to, what's this!? Searching under the ring and now the Defiant Ones pull out a wooden table! [FANS ROARING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: Scott Starring beating down Sammy Knight, throwing down punches as blood is battered, sent flying all over the mat! He beats Knight to the canvas, as the table comes in over the side. [Wild Bill reaches down, grabbing his whiskey bottle and takes a chug as Jean Pierre and Scott Starring set up the table, Marissa Monet crawling up to get off the floor as Wild Bill charges and bangs the jug right over her head!!] [CROWD BOOING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: Celine tossing Sammy Knight up onto the apron!! And Wild Bill shouting at Scott Starring- they want to see Knight injured and put out of SPW once and for all! They came into this match to destroy Sammy Knight, using Andrew Davis to wear him down and now they're dead set on driving him from our federation!! Jack: Starring hates Sammy so much! And Ian and Celine shouting out- JPC wanting to see Starring be the one to do it! Oh Sammy trying to sit up- IAN SMASHES HIM DOWN WITH THE BOTTLE!! Sean: And now Wild Bill pouring some alcohol down up all across the bleeding, bloody face of our Team Captain! Jack: Oh Sammy Knight unable to even fight back- and Scott Starring, oh Scott Starring he wants to do it! Taking some of the alcohol as he rips that jar away, and now taking up the Spooky Doom MASK OH MY GOD NO! [CROWD ROARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [Scott douses a line of the alcohol on the mask as Celine pulls The Red Dragon from the corner, reaching into his boot to pull out a lighter! Dragon rolls over as Celine takes up the lighter and holds it up into the air! Scott is already halfway up the buckles!] [MONSTER 'SHOCK' POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: NO! THEY'RE GOING FOR THE FLAMING HEADBUTT FROM THE TOP!! SCOTT STARRING LOOKING TO DESTROY SAMMY KNIGHT AND PUT HIM OUT OF SPW!!!! [FANS SCREAMING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jim: AND STARRING ON THE TOP! CELINE- JAMES O'CONNOR!!!! [HUGE FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: THE BONECRUSHER!!!! THEY ARE BACK AND RUNNING DOWN THE AISLE! [The Bonecrusher, in his green camo flak jacket, rushes as fast as he can with JOC on his heels!! The fans are cheering and waving as Barry gets to the door and tries to get the key from the Referees to get inside, but Celine drops and rushes to keep him from getting inside! Jean Pierre pulls on the door as Barry is fighting to get it open- and James is pacing back and forth, desperate to get in the cage and save Sammy!!] [CROWD CHEERING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: EDDIE IS UP! AND CRAWLING INSIDE- WILD BILL ON HIM AND BEATING HIM DOWN, POUNDING THAT BOTTLE INTO HIS BACK!! Jack: Scott Starring yelling out, demanding that they put Christian down-- Jim: JAMES O'CONNOR CLIMBING UP THE CAGE!!!!! [FANS SCREAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: NO! NO! THERE'S NO WAY! JAMES!! DON'T OHH GOD! Jim: O'CONNOR COMING OVER THE SIDE AND TEARING HIS SHIRT UP ACROSS THE BARBED WIRE!! AND HIS SKIN!! HE COULD EVISCERATE HIMSELF!! [The fans are roaring out in disbelief as O'Connor is ripping his shirt and now skin to shreds!! Climbing over, forcing himself to come down the side, his stomach and arms are torn up as red cuts drain blood as O'Connor forces himself to scale the rolls of barbed wire!!] Jack: SOMEONE STOP HIM!! HE CAN'T DO THAT TO HIMSELF!!! I CAN'T WATCH! Sean: WILD BILL HAS THE LIGHTER! AND HE HANDS IT OVER TO STARRING!!!!! Jim: JAMES IS OVER THE SIDE! OH HE'S BLEEDING ALL OVER!! HIS STOMACH COULD HAVE BEEN TORN OPEN!! BUT O'CONNOR IS IN THE CAGE!! Sean: AND SCOTT STARRING STANDING UP AND TALL - TO THE TOP ROPE! AND HE -HE- HE SETS HIS MASK ON FIRE!!!!!! [CROWD ROARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: Starring's mask set ablaze! And Sammy Knight completely out!! Wild Bill taking the jug now and dumping the contents all over Sammy's body! You gotta be kidding me! And Scott Starring does he even see this!? Jim: STARRING STANDING TALL!! WHAT WILL THIS BE!! Sean: JAMES O'CONNOR!!! [James spins Wild Bill around and throws the kick to the midsection! Bill staggers back, dropping the bottle as it rolls underneath the table, James smashes Bill down with the forearm to the face as Scott Starring spreads out his arms- and jumps right out and up into a Shooting Star Press!!!] Jack: SHOOTING STARR PRESS FROM SCOTT STARRING- Jim: JAMES O'CONNOR PULLING SAMMY KNIGHT FROM THE TABLE!!!! Sean: AND WRENCHING HIM AWAY!! STARRING THROUGH THE AIR AND CRASHES STRAIGHT THROUGH THE TABLE!!!!!! ****CCCCRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSHHHHHHHHHHH FFFFWWWWWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSSSSHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BBBBBBBBBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMM!!!!!!!!!!!!****** [FANS SCREAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: MY GOD MAN!! STARRING WIPED HIMSELF OUT AND THE GLASS JUST EXPLODED!!! [Wild Bill rolls over, glass shards in his bleeding arm as James pulls Knight up, dragging him across the ring, before the bits of table on fire get anywhere near his Captain! O'Connor drops to his knees, blood streaming down his torn up waist as Marissa Monet throws a leg up to climb back inside the ring! Jean Pierre Celine rolls back inside, shocked as Scott Starring is down grabbing at the pieces of mask that are burned into his face!!] [CROWD SCREAMING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: STARRING ON FIRE!! ROLLING AROUND AS CELINE CRASHING INTO O'CONNOR!! Jim: OH!! AND JEAN PIERRE BEATING JAMES DOWN INTO THE CORNER!!! Sean: EDDIE CHRISTIAN!!! [Christian rolls into the ring with a chair in hand, as Ian kneels up and Christian smashes him with the chair across the back!! Jean Pierre drags James around, raking his fingernails down the man's barbed wire cuts, covering his own hands in blood in the process and Eddie Christian bounces a chair over the top of his head!!] ***CRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSHHHH!!!!!*** Jack: OHHHH!! AND THESE GUYS KILLING EACH OTHER IN THIS WAR!!! Sean: CELINE IS DOWN! AND SAMMY KNIGHT IS HE EVEN CONSCIOUS!!! Jim: EDDIE OVER AND NATHAN TAYLOR!!! [Taylor grabs onto Christian, wrapping him up and starts shaking him around! He muscles him up into the air to catch the Compactor as Marissa Monet jumps over the table pieces on fire and smashes her shoulder right into the side of Taylor's legs!!] [MONSTER FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: AND TAYLOR UNABLE TO HIT THAT COMPACTOR!!! Sean: EDDIE ON NATHAN AND PUNCHING HIS HEAD IN! AND MARISSA WRAPPING THE CHAIR AROUND HIS HEAD!!!! Jack: THE RED DRAGON GOING TO THE TOP ROPE!!!! [Marissa holds the chair as it's closed around Nathan's head- and Eddie Christian drops to secure the Agony of Defeat! Scott Starring is pulling pieces of mask off his face, skin coming off as he rolls off the apron, falling to the floor! The Red Dragon stands tall and Monet rises -to point right out as Dragon leaps into the air and frogsplashes straight into the chair crushing Nathan Taylor underneath!!!!] [FANS SCREAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: WHAT THE HELL!! Jack: YOU GOTTA BE KIDDING ME!! Jim: AND THE RED DRAGON ROLLING AROUND IN TOTAL PAIN! Sean: HE -HE JUST ATTACKED HIS OWN TEAMMATE!? Jack: AND NATHAN TAYLOR IS OUT! Jim: MONET WITH A BICEPS SLICER ON JEAN PIERRE CELINE!!! Sean: JAMES O'CONNOR WITH THE DRAGON SLEEPER ON WILD BILL!!! Jim: THE RED DRAGON CRAWLING OVER AND HOLDING UP TAYLOR'S WRIST, HE TAPS THE BIG MAN OUT AS HE IS TAPPING HIMSELF!! [MONSTROUS FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: MY GOD! THIS MATCH! THIS MATCH IS OVER!!!! ******DINGDINGDINGDINGDINGDINGDINGDINGDINGDINGDINGDINGDING!!!!!***** Jack: THIS FIGHT IS OVER! THE WAR IS WON! SPW WINS!!!!! SPW WINS!!!!!! [The cage begins to raise as Paramedics spill inside under the grating, ducking to rush over and tend to the wounded Superstars laying strewn about the ring! Sammy Knight is barely out as James O'Connor is profusely bleeding, and a group of EMTs in white rush to surround Scott Starring to stop him from pulling the mask off his face! They immobilize him as he is shaking in pain! The audience is still roaring from the uncontrolled chaos and Marissa Monet is kneeling in the center of the ring, on her hands and knees as she stares at the mat, tears streaming from her face all over the Shootfire logo!! "Run this town" begins to play as confetti falls from the ceiling, and fireworks go off across the San Diego Sports Arena!!!] ******BBBBBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMM***** ******BBBBBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMM***** ******BBBBBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMM***** ******BBBBBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMM***** ******BBBBBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMM***** [The cage is rising as James lays on the apron, the medics wrapping gauze around and around his stomach as he refuses to leave the ring, wanting to stay with his team. Marissa rolls out of the ring on her way to the guardrail as she reaches over the side, to hug Sierra and her mother Madeline. Eddie sits up aching, finally breaking the hold on Nathan Taylor. The Red Dragon lays in the corner, suffering through the pains of the frogsplash into the chair.. as Jean Pierre Celine and Wild Bill Ian leave the ring, Bill clutching his bleeding arm as he shoves past EMTs that are trying to check his injury. Celine meets up with JDM Superstar who tries to console him, the Executive Vice President talking fast to slow the Invaders up... and Henry Spikes walks out of the back, in full black suit with red, white and blue striped tie. He holds blue cards in his hand and pauses at the height of the ramp as the fans cheer out!!] Sean: Here comes the General Manager to announce the penalties and the wishes! Thank GOD Shootfire won!! Jack: But so many, so many unanswered questions! Why did Dragon help- Jim: Henry is starting!! Henry Spikes: And now, FIRST! The Penalties for the Invaders because they lost!! [CROWD CHEERING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: Awww I can't wait for this! Sean: Here we go!! And Celine and Taylor waiting, JDM can't believe it, he's beside himself as Wild Bill just looking on... you guys wanted to run rampant on SPW, now you have to suffer the consequences! Jim: And Red Dragon can hardly even stand! But here we go!! [Henry rips open the first card... and a smile begins across his face as he smiles and raises up the card. Shaking his head, Spikes lowers the card and begins once again!] Henry: STARTING WITH THE SECOND HALF OF SEASON 11... "THE MASTODON" NATHAN TAYLOR! MUST REPORT TO THE DCWL AND COMPETE THERE FOR TWO FULL SEASONS!!! [CROWD ROARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: YES! YES!! YES!! NATHAN TAYLOR IS OUTTA SPW!!!!! Jim: THE DCWL JUST GOT THE MASTODON!!!! [MONSTER FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [Nathan's eyes open wide as he screams out! Shouting at the top of his lungs he gets going as a wall of Security is in his way!! Henry can't believe it as the capacity crowd comes unglued! JDM Superstar is screaming out as Taylor grabs his own head with both hands, just staring out as Henry raises his microphone again.] Henry: WILD BILL IAN!!!! [CROWD BOOS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [Ian chews his chaw and stares out, eyes raising... as Henry takes up the card.] Sean: This is it!! Henry: MUST BECOME _MY!?!_ PERSONAL LACKEY FOR 2 SEASONS- WHILE REMAINING _SOBER_ WITH RANDOM BREATHALYZER TESTS!!!! [MONSTER FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jim: HA! BILL IAN IS NOW STRAIGHT EDGE!!! Sean: ONE DAY AT A TIME!!!! [Wild Bill's eyes nearly pop from his head and he throws up his finger, jawing as he threatens to walk out! Jean Pierre Celine gets in there to try and talk him down as the fans are cheering like crazy!! Wild Bill can't believe it as Henry Spikes can't get the smile off his face. Security bows up as the General Manager raises up his third card, and tapping it, holds it up and proceeds to laugh his ass off!!!] Jim: What is this--- Henry: JEAN PIERRE CELINE!!!! Jack: Oh Good God. This ought to be awesome! I tell ya man, this was worth sitting out the whole season for! Henry: ...HAS TO SPEND TWO SEASONS IN THE WOMEN'S WORLD DIVISION!! Sean: POET WRIGHT WILL KICK HIS ASS!!!! [FANS CHEERING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [Jean Pierre Celine doesn't even know what to say as he's speechless for the first time since joining the fed! Marissa Monet yells at him to get the World Championship and then come see her!! JPC is shocked as fans hold up their 'Tiffany Lane' and 'Nina Larue' posters!!!] Jack: You gotta be kidding me. I think you're right Sean, could you imagine, JPC's hair hanging from Poet Wright's mask!? Talk about making them walk a mile in HER shoes, Marissa Monet thinks they think the Shootfire Women's Division is easy? Have fun Jean Pierre Celine! Our girls are the best in the world!! You saw that bloodbath Orchid and Jasy competed in!! Henry: ...And the FINAL PENALTY!! THE RED DRAGON... [CROWD POPS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: The man who was forced to tap, the man who was forced to give it up for his team... Henry: MUST UNMASK AND DO IT RIGHT NOW!!!! [CROWD SCREAMS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [The Red Dragon shoves past JDM as the Executive Vice President shouts, telling him he doesn't have to do it! Limping towards the ring, Dragon pushes through as Security moves to let him past, but as he approaches the ring his walk gets straighter and it gets tougher as the fans are puzzled! Dragon rolls inside as the Shootfire Army backs up, and walking to the middle of the ring, Red Dragon looks to the letters at his boots... and nodding reaches to grab onto his cowl! Even the Invaders are surprised as the Army stands back, looking to each other....] Jack: THE RED DRAGON ABOUT TO UNMASK!! [Fade to the back as Kieran Rae is smiling, arms folded as AJ Black and Victor Frost are standing behind her... the CEO staring ahead with eyes burning....] Sean: I can't believe this! Jim: His leg seems fine now? Jack: AND THE RED DRAGON BEGINNING TO REMOVE HIS MASK!!!!! Jack: ANGEL MARTINEZ!!!!! [CROWD SCREAMS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: WHAT THE FUCK! WE THOUGHT HE WAS JAPANESE!! Jim: "SYKO" ANGEL MARTINEZ!! THE FORMER GENERAL MANAGER!! HE CAME BACK AS THE RED DRAGON!? Jack: KIERAN RAE SET UP THE INVADERS FROM THE START!!! [AJ's face is white as Victor Frost shakes his head, muttering in German, Kieran smirking as she folds her arms. She walks away as the camera goes to the ring and The Red Dragon- Angel Martinez stands and he holds the empty mask up in his hand, and the Invaders try to come through Security!!!!!] [MONSTROUS CROWD POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: HEY! THE INVADERS COMING THROUGH THE BLACK SHIRTS!!! THEY HAVE LOST IT!!! Jim: THE SHOOTFIRE ARMY TO THE SIDE AND JAMES PUNCHING IAN DOWN!!!! Sean: EDDIE CHRISTIAN AND MARISSA MONET FIGHTING NATHAN TAYLOR DOWN!! Jack: AND SECURITY DRAGGING CELINE OUT! DID THE ARMY EVEN KNOW!?! [Angel walks over, and opening his arms, hugs Eddie Christian as the SPW Fans are roaring!! Marissa is smiling as Martinez flexes his leg and Sammy points out at JDM Superstar who is going crazy! JDM is frothing at the mouth as he spits out curses, Security keeping a wall as Angel Martinez clasps his hands together, and bows towards his former teammates!!] [HUGE FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: Syko wanted to obliterate the Invaders, to teach them not to mess with SPW! And Kieran Rae had him as a plant since day one!? How did she know what JDM was up to!! Jim: You don't work for AJ Black and not think like he does! She knew JDM and Black were planning something hell she probably saw the documents come across her desk first! And she PLANTED Angel Martinez in the group I can't believe this, we thought Syko fell off the face of the earth! Jack: Well the Invaders have been split up, the stable is no more, if they want to compete they'll all have to strike out on their own, what a turn of events this is! And now it's time for the wishes for the Superstars involved, it is time to reward our heroes for their hardfought victory!! Sean: True- but does that mean Scott Starring gets his wish! Jim: I think it does... I think it does!! Henry: LADIES AND GENTLEMEN... AND NOW THE WISHES OF THE SHOOTFIRE ARMY!!! THE FIRST! JAMES O'CONNOR!! ...HE GETS FIVE BLANK MATCH CONTRACTS!!!!!!!!!! [CROWD CHEERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: James O'Connor can elect to have five matches, at any time against any opponent!? Jim: Well that's interesting, he can just pencil in who he wants to fight!? This means O'Connor can wrestle against anyone on the roster, anyone he feels he needs to propel himself up the ladder and he has FIVE contracts to do this with!! Talk about a stairway to heaven, think of the people in this company, that's the potential for some dream matches and not only that, at the drop of a hat he can use those at any time!!! Henry: EDDIE CHRISTIAN!!!!! [HUGE FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Henry: Classic... THE BORN CHAMPION HAS REQUESTED A FUTURE WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT TITLE SHOT TO BE HELD AT A TIME OF HIS CHOOSING!!!!! [CROWD ROARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jim: That's exactly what I expected Eddie to get, should he have won, he has a title shot he can use at any time and if I was Andrew Davis I'd sleep with one eye open from here on out! "The Born Champion" Eddie Christian playing this to put the World Title around his waist!! Sean: You gotta be smart about these, this is the best opportunity he could provide himself. [Henry nods, as Eddie motions for the belt as Sammy and Marissa look on... Christian is all smiles as the General Manager raises his next card] Henry: MARISSA MONET!! [FANS CHEER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Henry: THE GREAT BLACK SHARK HAS REQUESTED THE POWER TO BOOK HERSELF!? [MONSTER FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: OKAY WHAT DOES THAT MEAN!? Jim: I, I don't know! Marissa Monet wants the right to book herself!? Does this mean she has veto power over matches? Does this mean she can pick and choose what she wants to compete in!? It's essentially -it sounds like creative control and that's something NONE of the Superstars in SPW have! Not a one!! Sean: This is insane, we're going to have to get to the bottom of this, in its ten year history nobody in Shootfire Pro Wrestling has ever had creative control in their contracts, I agree!! What will the fallout be from this! Jack: What a night! What a wish! Henry: THE FOURTH WISH- THAT BELONGING TO SAMMY KNIGHT!!! [MONSTROUS FACE POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] [Knight looks up, face still caked with blood as his arms are holding his ribs, he leans against the corner, holding onto the ropes for support...] "SAMMMMY!!!" "SAMMMMY!!!" "SSAMMMMY!!!" "SSSAMMMMY!!!" Jim: Man if I wasn't so messed up, in Knight's condition I'd have asked for an instant rematch!! Sean: Sammy Knight can barely even STAND in his condition. Let's hear it! Henry: ....SAMMY KNIGHT HAS WISHED FOR--- THROUGH NEXT SEASON, SAMMY KNIGHT WILL HAVE TOTAL - TOTAL! BOOKING CONTROL OVER ANDREW DAVIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [FANS SCREAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: SOMEWHERE ANDREW DAVIS JUST SHIT HIS PANTS! AGAIN!! Jack: MY GOD MAN! KNIGHT WITH CONTROL OVER DAVIS!? I CAN'T BELIEVE IT!!! [CROWD CHEERING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jim: Well that's the one thing that all of this effort against Andrew Davis was really put forward, that's what Knight was wanting to do from the start, to corral the upstart now Three Time World Champion and that's why he even challenged him to get in the ring. And now, Sammy Knight is the puppet master and Andrew Davis should be used to being directed, after all- but he now ANSWERS to the former World's Champ!! Sean: Wow... that's... gotta be pretty brutal if you're the NEW World's Champ. Which means Sammy decides his opponents! And you know half if not most of everyone here in SPW would absolutely LOVE to get a piece of Davis in that wrestling ring- Andrew Davis may regret the first he ever saw Sammy Knight! [Knight hangs onto the top rope, arm hung over the side... but begins to smile out through the blood caked dry on his face. The fans in California are cheering as the Army are clapping their hands....] Sean: And now, unfortunately that turncoat, that Judas in Scott Starring well, he sure picked the wrong team to jump to. The man who is now convalescing in the Emergency Room with severe burns and glass shards in his face, the man who may be undergoing emergency reconstructive surgery as we speak, he gets his wish I guess. Jim: Yeah, was it worth it Starring? I hope it is. [Henry is smiling, holding up the fifth and final card as everyone is paying attention.] Henry Spikes: ...And the fifth wish, this is historical... well, let's get to it LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! THE FINAL WISH FOR TEAM SPW!! THE NEWWWW ...General Manager!? The new.. the new General Manager!? [MONSTER POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: WHAT!? Henry: ...STEVE GREEDY!?! [CROWD ROOOOAAAAAARRRRSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Sean: No, no, no....Did he just say what I think he said ? Jim : Bingo! SPW just got alot richer. Maybe we'll get a raise now! ["Instigator" by D12 begins to play over the PA system.] [HUUUUGE CROWD POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Jack: The former World Champion!! Steve Greedy's music beginning to play, what the hell is going on! That was Scott Starring's wish!?! WHY! Sean: Oh and you can hear the crowd buzzing. A lot of people are wandering, could it really be the former IGA and SPW heavyweight champion from Little Rock, Arkansas ? Jim: That is what the idiot in the ring said. And even Henry Spikes isn't safe from the economy!! He's now on the unemployment line!! Jack : Well I guess it's only fitting a war between SPW, and the Invaders would bring this old name out of the closet. I can't believe this, even though they _lost_ the match they still find a way to potentially switch the balance of power to their side!? Jim: THE RICH ONE COMING OUT!! [The tempo of the song picks up, the buzz in the crowd remains strong.] Voice: <> Thank you for that wonderful introduction. [The curtains part courtesy of four attractive females. One for each male in the audience. Red head, and brunette on the left. Blonde, and a dark black headed female on the right. Limited clothing at best. In the middle of the ramp way stands the Armani dressed "Rich One" Steve Greedy.] [MONSTER 'SHOCK' POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Steve Greedy: I mean I would be sure to introduce me properly as well considering I am now your boss. [Greedy adjust his suit, and steps out farther onto the ramp. The women release the curtain, and join the new GM at his side.] Steve Greedy: Not just your boss though. I'm everybody's boss. I now have control _over_ everything. Only ONE person ranks higher than me in the SPW chain of command, and we all know she won't be showing up any time soon to make me stop doing what I'm doing because I know what makes money in professional wrestling. I know what ticket prices should be, I know what workers should be signed, I know what limits there are inside that squared circle. I know how to make SPW money. [A sly smirk.] Steve Greedy: Which is what every business is all about. It's the bottom line. It's not about the production crew, the wrestlers who bust there ass in the gym, and the ring, or even you ungrateful fans that are eating enough nachos, and drinking enough beer America will remain obese for the next century. It's about the moolah. [Jean Pierre Celine stands in the aisle, a smile on his face... Wild Bill glaring an evil grin] Steve Greedy: It's what makes the world go around ladies, and gentleman. [Greedy's women begin to rub on his suit frantically.] SG: And what makes the women go crazy, but that's just an extra perk of money. [Greedy nods to the women who exit to the back on que.] Jack: How long, how long has Greedy been behind the Invaders!? Has he been supporting them? Bankrolling them the entire time!? I just, I just can't believe the former World Champ would do this to us! Jim: Well we did kind of burn his arm, scar him for life, stab his leg, vacate his title- SG: I AM HERE to make SPW the most money it can possibly make in this business, everything else is not of my concern. I am here to lead it to heights that it has not yet reached. I am here to take it under my wing as I did when I was champion, and blast it to the top of the food chain in Professional wrestling. I am planning on making it to where if your a pro wrestler you HAVE to work for Shootfire Pro, or else nobody will do anything more than laugh at you if you say your a professional in this business. Basically I am here to CHANGE everything. SPW your on notice. Things are changing sooner rather than later, and you can take that to the bank. [Pause for dramatic effect.] Steve Greedy: <. _MY BANK._ [Greedy lets out a chuckle off the microphone, but very visible as he back peddles off the ramp, and behind the curtain. Celine and Ian follow, Jean Pierre holding up middle fingers to everyone as Nathan Taylor and JDM Superstar leave, JDM trying to convince Taylor they'll find a way to set everything right. The camera goes back to the announcers as Sean O'Brady is shaking his head, trying to get a grasp of everything as Jack sits back, arms folded] Sean: There you have it, we have a new World's Heavyweight Champion, a new pair of World Tag Team Champions, and the Shootfire Army victorious here in the Deathwish Cage... so much has happened here tonight, so much to talk about wrestling fans, we will be updating the Shootfireworld.com site all weekend long, then next Monday Night we will have a fan chat off our IRC Channel to talk about the latest happenings, the fallout, all this and more heading into the second half of season 11... wow I just gotta say what a night, guys, your thoughts? Jack: Well it is damn good to be back, and I have to announce that it was a pleasure, I will be stepping away from the broadcast booth after this night, Sean and Jim, I can see this table was in good hands. It was my pleasure to see Nathan Taylor get his and I will continue on as I've been offered a position internally, what a great, great company this is and I for one can say the caliber of matches was outstanding, maybe even better than Ringu Faia. From the 8 Belt Ladder Match to the Last Woman Standing bloodbath, as you called it Sean, and the Deathwish Cage Match which I was so glad to have the pleasure of calling, this was truly an entertaining show from top to bottom, no the Invaders may not be dead but as far as this journalist is concerned, they have one foot in the grave thanks to the efforts of the Shootfire Army!! Jim: Thanks Jack, and I agree.. I agree this completely changed the face of Shootfire Pro Wrestling. Steve GREEDY the new GM and thanks to Scott Starring the Invaders now are on life support, despite being summarily disbanded and scattered with the defection of The Red Dragon, A.K.A. "Syko" Angel Martinez... and after those wishes it appears everything got turned on its head. Has the balance of power shifted? What does this mean for SPW now? And Sammy Knight, with control over Andrew Davis! Talk about insanity! Sean: And we will see you wrestling fans back when the season continues following Iconoclasm! For Toxic Shock, Vik Avatar, Tara Silver, Jim Monroe and Jack Sharp, be sure to check the latest updates, join our chat on Monday Night and we will see you for the Premier of CONQUEST!! This is Sean O'Brady saying good night, thank you for joining us- and the Shootfire Army wins!!! The Shootfire Army wins the Deathwish Cage! [Inside the ring, Sammy Knight stands, holding his ribs as he gets one fist up in the air, the crowd cheering out as Eddie Christian climbs over the top rope, draping a leg over the cable as he yells out, motioning for the belt. Angel Martinez is clapping his hands as Marissa Monet goes right up to the top rope. James O'Connor slides out of the ring to climb over the side as the Army does the same, making their way down to head into the audience and celebrate with the fans!!!] "SPW!!!!!!!!" "SPW!!!!!!!!" "SPW!!!!!!!!" "SPW!!!!!!!!" "SPW!!!!!!!!" _____________________________________________________________________________ |_____________________________________________________________________________| |__ICONOCLASM_________________________________________________________________| [Cue Silversun Pickups: "Panic Switch"] [Cut to Heather Owens flying at Jessica Marsh, slamming the uppercut right into the jaw! Jessica Marsh hitting the high angle powerbomb on Heather, bouncing her on her neck and then stepping through to take up the legs, turning it right into a boston crab. Cut to Heather Owens jumping over Jessica to fly at the second rope, springing back in a picture perfect moonsault to land the legdrop down across Marsh and secure the One, Two, Three!] "Time is never worth my time blue shine bleeds into my eyes I still sleep on the right side but white noise can't leave the scene behind Could I be anything you want me to be if so is it meant to be seen?" Superstars: Sammy Knight Andrew Davis "Violent" Victor Frost Poet Wright Owen Cage Shane Diamond Jean Pierre Celine Scott Starring [Cut to Joshua North locking horns with Bryan Vincent, as Vincent turns the arm over and strikes North as hard as he can! The Darkman playing to the crowd, taunting as he points out across San Diego. Bryan taking North over and hooking him for the pin, unable to get it and as he yells at the Referee, North taking him over with a surprise rollup for the win!! Vincent leaping to smash North with the Quickstryke following the bell!!] "When you see yourself in a crowded room do your fingers itch, are you pistol whipped will you step in line or release the glitch can you fall asleep with a panic switch? When you see yourself in a crowded room do your fingers itch are you pistol whipped will you step in line or release the glitch do you think she'll sleep with a panic..." Marissa Monet Tiffany Lane Angel Martinez Spooky Doom Nathan Taylor Eddie Christian "Wild" Bill Ian James O'Connor [Erica Toughill running over both Nikki James and Nina Larue with the double clothesline! Cut to Nikki reversing a Samoan Drop into a Crucifix Pin and almost getting the fall over Toughill. Erica with a hairpull hangman's neckbreaker on Nikki James! And then Nina Larue hitting the sleeperhold drop on James right into Erica, securing Toughill's shoulders to the mat for the three!] "And I'll try to hold on tight tonight pink slip inviting me inside want to burn skin and brand what once was mine but the red views keep ripping the divide if I go everywhere you want me to go how will I know you'll still follow" Barry Baldwin Quinn Scott Dave Pietka Iris Galiver "Jester" Chad Allen Chance Fortuna Angst [Cut to Scott Starring brawling with James O'Connor during the intro! Starring nailing JOC with the short arm clothesline and hitting the Hammerlock legsweep DDT right into the floor of the San Diego Sports Arena! Cut to Starring telling off Toxic Shock and all of SPW before walking out of the arena!!] "When you see yourself in a crowded room do your fingers itch are you pistol whipped, will you step in line or release the glitch can you fall asleep with a panic switch. When you see yourself in a crowded room do your fingers itch are you pistol whipped? Will you step in line or release the glitch do you think she'll sleep with a panic..." Colt Montana Steve Liermann Gabriel Van Zahn El Rey Futuro Orchid Rousseaux Jasolyn O'Neil James Robert Crowe III [Fade to The Red Dragon battling it out with El Rey Futuro, Puro vs Lucha as Red Dragon nailing El Rey with the Tornado DDT! On the floor, El Rey sending Red Dragon right into the railing! Cut to Eddie Christian and Marissa Monet entering the ring, Eddie pretending to smash Dragon's knee out as Marissa locked on the Heel Hook, pretending to try and break Dragon's leg! Cut to the Invaders rushing out, believing that Dragon was seriously hurt as Jean Pierre takes out his frustration by cutting all ties with Andrew Davis!] "Movements are made slow motion in frame I'm waiting and fading and floating away I'm waiting and fading and floating away I'm waiting and fading and floating away Waiting and fading and floating..." Clyde Dixon Marcus O'Malley Anthony O'Malley Vile "Vince" Viper Rick Styles Van Wild Luke Kinsey Samantha Bevins [Cut to the 8 Belt Tag Team Title Ladder Match as Shane Diamond hits the flying Suicide Dive into Colt Montana, Spooky Doom with a Tope Con Hilo onto Marcus O'Malley, Anthony O'Malley hitting a Springboard Shooting Star Press to the outside onto Owen Cage, and Kasady crashing with the somersault rope flip senton down into Steve Liermann!! Jasmine shoves the ladder over as Shane Diamond hangs from the hook. Liermann tries to rehang his title only to have Kasady beat him with his own belt, costing them the match! Cut to Spooky Doom's ladder being pushed over as he tries to superplex Diamond off the rungs, Shane hanging on as Doom hits the cables and flips to crash into the railings! Fade to Diamond falling as Team EGO try and catch him, all going down in a heap as Shane Diamond sits up the New World Tag Team Champions!] "I'm waiting and fading and floating away waiting and fading and floating away waiting and fading and floating away waiting and fading waiting and fading... Erica Toughill Nina Larue Nikki James Bryan Vincent Joshua North Heather Owens Jessica Marsh [Van Wild stands on the stage, waving to the fans. AsH comes out of the back in his iCON T-Shirt, a huge smile on his face. "The Top Dog" Rick Styles with hands in pockets next. Luke Kinsey pointing out to the cheering fans. And Vile Vince Viper being carried out of the back on a golden throne by an army of midget slaves, all five legends being welcomed into SPW] "When you see yourself in a crowded room do your fingers itch, are you pistol whipped? Will you step in line or release the glitch can you fall asleep- with a panic switch?? Chris Wheeling Lance Robinson James Williams Jasmine Diamond Allegra di Baggio Javier Domingo Matt Payne [AsH standing in the ring having a verbal mic battle with Darkside Clyde. Chance Fortuna on commentary as AsH lands Darkside with the full nelson buster A.K.A. The AsH Kisser!! Clyde able to get his foot under the ropes! AsH flying off the top to land the elbow from heaven! Cut to Rick Styles on the apron, distracting AsH long enough for Clyde to capitalize, catching a missile dropkick to toss the legs upside down, flipping AsH in midair! Dixon nailing AsH with the Midnight Special T-Bone DDT!!!] "When you see yourself in a crowded room do your fingers itch are you pistol whipped? Will you step in line or release the glitch do you think she'll sleep with a panic..." Broadcast Journalists: Jack Sharp Jim Monroe Sean O'Brady Tara Silver Vik Avatar Adam Drew Interviews: Toxic Shock Mandy Appleton [Cue Shinedown: "The Sound of Madness"] [Cut to Entropy and Anarchy kneeling in the ring as "Jester" Chad Allen and Iris Galiver preside over the newest addition to their bizarre cult-like Family. JCA and Galiver done up in leather and pentagrams as the audience is booing them like crazy! Iris raising up her Rosie Doll head and petting it, looking like an extreme version of a horror fairy tale! The Family raising their arms to the fans!] "Yeah, I get it, You're an outcast. Always under attack. Always coming in last, Bringing up the past. No one owes you anything. I think you need a shotgun blast, A kick in the ass, So paranoid. . . Watch your back!" Head EMT: Jimmy Graves Ring Announcer: Steve Stone Timekeeper: Amber Rhiannon Head of Security: Maurice [Cut to Jasy O'Neil smashing light tube after light tube over a kneeling Orchid's head!! Orchid coming back with a suplex onto the floor of the Sports Arena! Jasy countering a light tube shot with a tilt-a-whirl slam once again to the concrete! Jasy diving off with a chair dive from the railing but Orchid able to move!! Cut to Orchid trying to get up, numerous pieces of glass in her head as both women are a bleeding mess, Jasy unable to compete any further due to massive blood loss, Orchid the winner of the Last Woman Standing match] "Oh my, here we go... Another lose cannon gone bi-polar Slipped down, couldn't get much lower. Quicksand's got no sense of humor. I'm still laughing like hell. You think that the cryin to me, Looking so sorry that I'm gonna believe, You've been infected by a social disease. Well, then take your medicine." Road Agents: Andy Simmons Janet Washington Cash Banks Harold Eden Michael McCarey [Victor Frost rushing to throw the Black Mass Lariat but Quinn Scott leaping to send both knees right into Victor's face!! Frost hitting a snake eyes onto the exposed metal turnbuckle! Scott busting open Frost's nose with a series of kneestrikes to the face!! Victor attempting the Violator Super Samoan Drop but Quinn Scott rolling over his head to try and latch on the Forced Internal Decapitation, rolling his head forward and crushing it against his chest. Victor Frost lifting Scott who latches on to his jugular with the Tongan Death Grip, the Uncomfortably Numb- but Frost able to counter with the Dortmund Driver, powerslamming Quinn over right on the top of his head! Fade to Victor Frost standing in the center of the ring, raising up his Fusion Title high!] "I created the Sound of Madness. Wrote the book on pain. Somehow I'm still here, To explain That the darkest hour never comes in the night. You can sleep with a gun. When you gonna wake up and fight... for yourself?" Officials: Chris Cartwright Shane Dreamer Todd Lucchesi Lara Vandewalle Glen Kyros Charles Eden [Kanye West playing out "Flashing Lights" as Andrew Davis makes his big arena entrance. Cut to Sammy Knight in the ring and socking Davis across the mouth!! Knight throwing Andrew down in the Blue Thunder Powerbomb! Cut to Andrew with the Davis Ex Machina on Sammy, twisting back on the leg as he sits down wrenching in the pain! Davis running the barricade to fly off with the clothesline! Knight diving over the top rope to take to the air and nail a monster Suicida!! Sammy missed a charge as Davis hits the flying hangman's neckbreaker! Cut to Sammy roaring out and both men leaping to hit an enzugiri at the same time, smashing each other's shins!! Fade to Sammy hefting Davis high for the Blood Drop, but Andrew countering to hit the falling Headshot and win the World Title for a record third time!!!] "I'm so sick of this tombstone mentality, If there's an afterlife, Then it'll set you free. But I'm not gonna part the seas You're a self-fulfilling prophecy. You think, that cryin to me Looking so sorry that I'm gonna believe, You've been infected by a social disease. Well, then take your medicine..." Board of Directors: AJ Black Jeff Keenan Jeffrey Dylan Marsh Chris Cartwright Chris Caranova Gregory Brians [Cut to Poet Wright jumping Tiffany before the bell, right at the feet of guest timekeeper "Sensuous" Samantha Bevins!! Cut to Lane coming back in the ring, hitting a spinning fisherman's neckbreaker! Tiffany Lane kicking out of Poet Wright's Poetry Slam! Poet Wright hitting the German Suplex on Tiffany Lane, rolling it into the Half Nelson Suplex, and then trying for the Cattle Mutilation! Fade to Lane nailing the Northern Lights Bomb into the floor! Poet Wright grabbing Lane and taking her through the broadcast table with a belly to belly suplex!! Wright clutching her Women's World Championship!] "I created the Sound of Madness, Wrote the book on pain. Somehow I'm still here, To explain, That the darkest hour never comes in the night. You can sleep with a gun. When you gonna wake up and fight... for yourself?" Special Thanks To: The San Diego Sports Arena/Arena Group 2000 Sundown Wrestling Dangerous Creations Wrestling: League Jon Maltese Kanye West [Cut to Iris Galiver attacking Nina Larue, and as the Children of Anarchy hold Larue up, Jester Chad Allen preparing to make an example until Erica Toughill runs in to make the save!! Fade into the ring as Dave Pietka makes his official return to Shootfire Pro, inciting the Evil Voodoo Army to throw their chairs and rain steel down inside the Sports Arena!!!!] "I created the Sound of Madness. Wrote the book on pain, Somehow I'm still here, To explain, That the darkest hour never comes in the night. You can sleep with a gun. When you gonna wake up... When you gonna wake up and fight?" Moderator: Shaun Sindelman Website: Samantha Bevins Talent Relations: Walter Yeates Graphic Design: Samantha Bevins Vice President: Dante Franklin Vice President: Mo Stylz Head Booker: Jon Lilwal [Cut to Spooky Doom, Sammy Knight, Eddie Christian, and Marissa Monet battling it out in the cage with Nathan Taylor, Jean Pierre Celine, "Wild" Bill Ian and The Red Dragon! Marissa ducking as Celine gets a faceful of blue mist from Dragon! Wild Bill smashing Monet across the head with the whiskey bottle! Nathan Taylor crashing into everyone using his body as a weapon! Sammy Knight with face bleeding, slamming into both Defiants taking them down with a double Shouldertackle!! Eddie Christian monkey flipping Jean Pierre Celine over to his feet out of the corner as Spooky Doom slugs the clothesline right into JPC!] "I created the Sound of Madness. Wrote the book on pain. Somehow I'm still here, To explain, That the darkest hour never comes in the night. You can sleep with a gun. When you gonna wake up and fight... for yourself? When you gonna wake up and fight... for yourself? Executive Assistant: Serena Black Executive Producer: Jon Lilwal General Manager: Henry Spikes General Manager: Steve Greedy CEO: Kieran Rae McAllister-Crowe Owner: Gideon Cain Written & Directed by: AJ Black "When you gonna wake up and fight... for yourself? When you gonna wake up and fight... for yourself? [Nathan Taylor hitting the Compactor on Marissa Monet, right into an open steel chair! Sammy Knight actually managing to suplex The Mastodon up, and land the Blood Drop! Cut to Doom and Knight fighting the Defiants until Spooky straightens up and punches Sammy down!! Spooky Doom revealing himself as Scott Starring! Starring leaping into the Shooting Star Press with mask on fire as a bloody James O'Connor rescues Sammy in the nick of time, Starring crashing through the table and the whiskey jug exploding glass and flame right into his face!! Cut to Red Dragon sailing through the air, crashing down into a chair wrapped around Nathan Taylor's head!!! Fade to the Shootfire Army standing victorious as they face down the disbanded Invaders, and the new GM... Steve Greedy!] _____________________________________________________________________________ |_____________________________________________________________________________| |__ICONOCLASM_________________________________________________________________| | | | | | | | © Myriad 2009 ~ All Rights Reserved | | http://shootfireworld.com | | | | | |_____________________________________________________________________________| |_________________________________________________________________________SPW_| |_____________________________________________________________________________|