At the same time a countdown appears on screen.
The guitar riff is playing over this countdown.
When the countdown reaches zero, there’s a pause, and then the rest of the hard hitting instruments kick in.
Rapid action shots of Keith Owens bashing people with light tubes are shown.
Caskets are flying over the edge of stages.
Dwayne Bishop and Jaime Alejandro powerbomb Keith Owens through the announce table!
Mike Lane Shadow Kicks a jobber iinto next week.
Mike Stryker has the New York Cloverleaf locked and his opponent is screams in agony.
The Wild Boys perform a double suplex on someone.
Diamond Del Carver executes the Diamond Death Drop on someone.
We cut to Keith Owens drilling David Kurresh with the Difference Maker, and then the song hits with a giant drum roll.
The intro video ends and we flash to the Annihilation logo.
ON
Cue the huge boom of the indoor pyrotechnics display.
BOOM!!
BOOM!!!
The cameras pan around the arena, showing shots of various fan signs including:
DDC IS NAFW!
SSSHADOW KICK
Sean Thomas Got Beat By A Girl
Trust Fund Kids: Invest In The Farm
Finally, the camera cuts to the ringside announcer’s table, where JB Mann and Tom “The Bear” Kalhoun are standing by.
(JB) Welcome to our second edition of Annihilation on TNT. Tonight we're coming to you live from the Charlotte Coliseum in Charlotte, North Carolina. I’m JB Mann and with me is still Tom “The Bear” Kalhoun.
(Tom) So we survived the first show and didn't get cancelled before this one. Terrific!
(JB) Indeed we're back on the air this week, and hopefully for many weeks to come. But before we go too far into the future, what about last week? The returns of VYC, Jaime Alejandro, Dwayne Bishop, Sean Thomas, and Diamond Del Carver, all in the same night!
(Tom) But most importantly, Hector Gonzales announced the return of the Ultimate Showdown Tournament, giving Keith Owens a special spot in the Super Finals to compete for the Foundation Heavyweight Championship.
(JB) That was classic Hector, that's for sure.
Changes
As Muse’s “Assassin” slowly comes to a fade out, the NAFW’s very own Commissioner Ray Buchanan steps out onto the stage once again, similar to the way last week’s show opened up. His presence silences the conversation that JB and Tom were just having. The Commish has a microphone in hand, and after he is greeted by a quick round of applause from the crowd, he moves on with business.
(Buchanan) Thank you everyone for giving me a moment of your time. We have an action packed show tonight as the first round of Ultimate Showdown is about to get underway. However, before the show begins, I must make an announcement regarding a change in the tournament.
Buchanan pauses for a moment, probably for impact.
(JB) An change in the tournament?
(Tom) They better be canceling the tournament and handing Keith Owens the championship!
(Buchanan) Just minutes ago I had a meeting with Vincent Chang, or VYC as you all know him. Mr. Chang informed me that he was withdrawing from the Ultimate Showdown Tournament, and therefore will not be competing in his opening round match against Mike Stryker next week on Annihilation.
The crowd provides a bit of a mixed reaction, but that’s usually the case when it comes to these kinds of things.
(Tom) VYC fears Owens!
(JB) VYC would have had to have made it past Mike Stryker first.
(Tom) Bah.
(Buchanan) Due to this sudden change, I am still weighing my options as to what to do with that open spot, and I am open to suggestions. By the end of the night, I will have made my decision on who will fill that spot, or if it will even be filled at all. But until then, let’s get Annihilation and the Ultimate Showdown Tournament underway!
The verse for “Assassin” by Muse kicks in once again and Mr. Buchanan makes his way towards the back.
(Tom) Another thrilling announcement from our Commissioner.
(JB) Is that sarcasm I hear in your voice Tom? Just let the man do his job. Hector Gonzales has put full faith into this man to handle business here, and he’s doing just that.
(Tom) Whatever. At least he’s not Destiny.
(JB) Aren’t you even the least bit curious as to why VYC pulled out of the Tournament at the last minute? Or who his replacement will be, if anyone?
(Tom) Not even remotely. Keith Owens is going to dominate the Super Finals. You don’t have to be good at math to know that either, Mannwagon. Whoever replaces VYC, if anyone has to go through Stryker, then another match, then win two more matches on the Ultimate Showdown Pay Per View itself before finally locking up with a freshly rested Keith Owens.
(JB) And what exactly has Keith Owens done to prove he’s still a great in-ring competitor in the past five months? I don’t see him booked in a match tonight.
(Tom) Relax JB. Keith is the best there is. He’ll be ready to go at Ultimate Showdown whether he wrestles no matches or a hundred matches between now and then.
(JB) Whatever you say, Bear. Up next we’re going to see a former Foundation Heavyweight Champion who is actually competing in matches these days as we kick off the Ultimate Showdown Tournament with this next match.
Mike Lane vs. Derelict
Ultimate Showdown: Round 1
The lights drop, and Audioslave’s “Cochise” hits the PA and we all know what that means. The crowd pops like mad as a wall of pyro goes off on the stage, and all the lights come on. Mike Lane walks out onto the stage, and looks around. He's wearing black trunks with his symbol on the front, a chaos symbol with a phoenix in the middle. Lane pops his neck as he walks down the ramp, slapping as many fans hands as he can. The sensei of submission walks up the steel steps, and climbs between the ropes. He heads to one side of the ring, and points towards the camera. He drops his arm, and heads to the nearest turnbuckle. He ascends it, and raises his arms in the crucifix pose. He drops down to the mat, and walks over to the ropes, where he wraps his arms around them and stretches.
(JB) Now we're getting started again, Bear. The big show is starting right now.
(Tom) Most of the time, the big show is your mother on her back, but I have to agree. You want to get the apes in the other feds talking, you bring out the big show.
Lane stares directly at the entrance. He looks ready to go.
(Troy) His opponent. He's one of the new stars of the NAFW. From Garden City, Michigan. This is DERELICT!
As the fans wait for something to happen, "Animal I Have Become" hits the speakers, and there is a small crowd pop. The cameras look all around the arena, trying to find Derelict. It doesn't take long to find him, as he is standing on a flight of stairs, not too far into the crowd. He begins to come down to ringside, as the pulsating part of the song begins, and red lights flash at the same rhythm. Once at ringside, Derelict stands on the barricade for a second, before walking along it, to the announce tables. He then stands on the commentary table, and points out into the crowd. With the lights still pulsating, he moves his hand, pointing to everyone across the crowd. Then Derelict hops down, before sliding into the ring as the song fades.
(JB) This kid's looking to get one past the old man of the NAFW in the Ultimate Showdown first rounder.
(Tom) I hate to say this, I don't like this kid's odds. Lane was an absolute beast last week, and I hate to say it. He scared me to death.
Lane looks right at Derelict. Clearly Mike's not amused by this kid's antics. He's glaring right at the kid like he's ready to fight. Which if anyone watched last week, and if you didn't, do it now. Mike's looking to take this punk out fast.
(Tom) I wonder if Mike's going to UFC this kid out of the ring. It'd save me the time of having to call this.
(JB) You don't have much faith in Derelict, do you?
(Tom) I don't have faith in many punks who forget the art of taking a bath, Mann-wagon.
James Elbourn rings the bell. Derelict tries to tie up with Lane, only to get a hard uppercut to the jaw. Elbourn tells Lane to knock it off. Lane then starts off with a series of kicks going from the shins all the way up to the jaw. Mike then grabs the kid and throws him right into the nearest turnbuckle and gets into a barrage of boxing style punches, as well as kick boxing style knees and kicks. Lane then finishes this off with a hard back elbow to the jaw.
(JB) Mike Lane's out to kill the kid, isn't he?
(Tom) Hey, why not? It might save Hector some money.
James tries to separate Lane from Derelict, and Lane looks at him with a scowl, almost like a man possessed. As Derelict simply tries to breathe in the corner, Lane walks back over to him, takes him over with a simple Snap Mare which places him in the middle of the ring. Lane then grabs the ropes and starts stomping the mat. The crowd peaks up for it. Now Lane yells it out for the uneducated. "SHADOW KICK!" The crowd responds with massive cheers for Lane, who by all accounts, is absolutely destroying Derelict right now.
(JB) Oh no, he's about to dish out that fatality to Derelict.
(Tom) Time for me to do that impersonation when he hits it.
Lane bounces to the ropes and slingshots himself across for his ode to that old fan favorite. He lines up the ol’ kick, and Derelict ducks under. Lane doesn't miss a beat as he deals a massive uppercut to Derelict's jaw. Elbourn can't look anymore. Lane goes back to the opposite end and cranks out another one, and then... SHADOW KICK!
(Tom) He hits it, Mann!
Lane goes right over the kid and puts on a very nonchalant cover.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
This match is mercifully over as Lane gets up. Elbourn raises his arm up in the air to signify the victory.
(Troy) Your winner, advancing to Round 2 of the Ultimate Showdown Tournament… MIKE LANE!
(JB) Lane moves on to round two.
(Tom) And we get to add another one to the Mike Lane stretcher collection.
Lane slips under the ropes just passing by the medical staff that's going to the ring with a stretcher to pick up his latest victim
(Tom) Welcome to the NAFW, punk.
Pulling Out
Cut to the parking lot.
Normally, when one cuts to the parking lot during a televised wrestling program, it has something to do with an arrival. A big hero showing up to make their mark, to build some hype for their latest match and shout catchphrases with reckless abandon. A villain come to awe the crowd and anyone who gets in his way with style, cunning, or size, or all of the above.
One usually expects a limo involved, and an entourage including but not limited to the limousine driver, an ally, at least one dirtsheet reporter, a manager, and a whole hell of a lot of fashionable bling.
In that regard, the limo's the only thing we have in common here with they typical parking lot pan. One doesn't necessarily expect a hero to be leaving the building.
I've seen more than enough.
VYC is here in his perfectly-tailored yet startlingly plain black business suit, chomping on the end of a lit cigar as he casually pushes out of the "staff only" back door to the arena.
And poor Amie Carmichael. If he'd have been able to, he'd have stepped aside maybe, let some of the railroad engine trail of smoke wafting behind him blow past, but when it's just a single door, trying to escape a building in any fashion other than single-file presents a...crushing dilemma. The poor dear's trying her hardest not to cough, and as soon as she steps out into the cool, fresh air, she takes a long, grateful breath.
(VYC) Sorry about that, dearie. I didn't know you were following me...
(Amie) That's...okay...
Amie manages to catch up with her lungs, obviously pretty pissed off at her and protesting horribly. Her voice continues to come out in a half-wheeze.
(Amie) You know that's going to kill you, right?
Vince only chuckles, shaking his head.
(VYC) Never really been worried about that. I've seen people live well into their seventies on a two pack a day habit. If you ask me, the media tends to overstate things for sensationalist purposes.
He pauses, to -- nonthreateningly -- jab a finger in her direction with a cautionary wink.
(VYC) Which is something you better not be thinking of doing. After all, you know I'm not just leaving for fresh air purposes.
(Amie) But you're backing out of the tournament...I saw you come out of Mr. Buchanan’s office, and he didn't sound too happy about it.
(VYC) Nor would he be. After all, he wants this thing to go smoothly, as any man in his position would. However, I only signed on contract for one appearance, on the proviso that I be allowed to help jumpstart competition for the Foundation Championship. As long as there's a tournament at all, some good programming for the fans, the NAFW doesn't exactly need me -- and I'd certainly rather it not. If it needed me, then something's terribly wrong.
Not looking satisfied with Vince's answer, Amie takes a few steps forward, standing nose to...shoulder with the man who was once considered the Foundation's "Rookie Monster". Smoke or no smoke.
(Amie) To a lot of those fans in there, you're a hero, Vince. You're one of the reasons they tuned in at all. It's not exactly...like you to let Keith Owens get one up on you like this.
Turning to the slide, offering his profile to the camera in his usual, overdramatic style, VYC raises his accusatory finger again, only to tick it back and forth, chuckling.
(VYC) It's not him I'm thinking about. Never was. I hate the bastard, sure, but Vegas odds are that he won't take home the gold come Ultimate Showdown. There's a laundry-list of qualified wrestlers who can do that job just as well as I can -- though they might lack the style and guile -- and it just wouldn't do to force myself into the mix for self-satisfaction. My fans understand that. They understand that I'll get my time with Keith eventually, right a few wrongs...but they also get that I'll do it when I'm good and ready. I play the game for the long term, dear. And a little advice?
VYC turns, his chauffeur popping the rear door of the limo to allow him to climb in. He gets comfortable, shifting in the seat as the door closes and the window rolls down, and then leans out to look to Amie as the engine turns over with a smooth purr.
(VYC) In the long term, heroes let people down.
A confused Amie can only watch as the limo pulls out of the parking space, and the scene cuts to commercial.
COMMERCIAL BREAK
Scott Rocker Goes America All Over Everybody's Ass
The camera fades in to the backstage interview area for Annihilation. If you’re unfamiliar with this particular spot, it’s your standard “caged” look in the background, with the new NAFW logo placed on a banned on the left side, and the new Annihilation logo placed on a banner on your right hand side. But who really cares about that? It’s the person in the interview zone we care about. And right now, it’s the one and only Scott Rocker, front and center in the camera, ready to deliver another riveting promo.
For those who might not remember last week, Scott Rocker was promoting his sex, drugs, alcohol, partying, and rock ‘n’ roll lifestyle as why he’s so great. This week, Scott Rocker is attempting to portray himself as a badass again. He still has his tight leather pants on, and he’s still wearing no shirt. But this week, there’s no guitar. Instead, he’s got on a sleeveless ripped jean jacket, and an American flag bandana wrapped over his head.
(Rocker) I look out here at these competitors in Ultimate Showdown, and I think… what a crock of shit.
We just saw Mike Lane go all Mortal Kombat on some chump’s ass. Throwin’ knees left and right. I guess he’s done going West Hollywood all over people’s asses and is trying to prove he’s the legit shit.
Scott gives kind of an awkward shrug, with a facial expression that’s questioning Mike Lane’s sexuality.
(Rocker) The only thing I have to say to people like Mike Lane and the rest of you losers in this Ultimate Showdown Tournament, is that I’m the real deal, unlike Old Man Del. I’m not out here reppin’ my time in the Shit Project. I’m no Wanted Outlaw. I’m the real f’n deal, right here in this Foundation. The rest of you are livin’ a lie!
Sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll, remember? That’s the real f’n deal for sure. Not like a lifetime of accomplishments mean anything…
(Rocker) Can you imagine an America where everyone just gives up and quits? That Asian loser Changy can go ahead and high tail it out of here, because last time I checked, this was the U-S-of-A, and I am an AMERICAN and a PATRIOT.
Changy got in his Honda Civic and booked it and the rest of you all will probably follow suit, but just know this: I will throw down any day of the week!
The excitement level of Rocker is growing… But why is he getting so damn uppity and threatening everyone just because VYC pulled out of the Ultimate Showdown Tournament? Why does he think that other people are going to pull out from the Tournament and why is he offering to fight them?
(Rocker) The rest of you are probably better off following loser boy though...
In fact, everyone should get out of my face and just go, before I go America all over your ass!
That’s right bitches, let me pass on a little something our founding father passed on to me: DON’T. TREAD. ON. ME.
Now most of you are probably confused, and you should be. What is going through this kid’s head? Why is he challenging people to a fight then trying to scare them away? God only knows…
Now things are about to turn very passionate as it’s time to close this with a catchphrase.
(Rocker) I am SCOTT ROCKER and
I.
WILL.
ROCK YOU.
WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!
Well, we are in Flair Country.
Scott Rocker intensely storms off camera, but the boom microphone picks up his parting words.
(Rocker) I'm gonna rise up, gonna kick a little ass, gonna kick some ass in the USA, gonna climb a mountain, gonna sew a flag, gonna fly on a eagle, gonna kick some butt, gonna drive a big truck, gonna RULE THE WORLD!......
That’s your cue to either to burst into some form of laughter, or to have a completely blank look on your face for a “What the hell just happened” reaction.
It’s your pick.
But for now, we’re fading out from this scene.
(JB) I think I might be speechless.
(Tom) That would be a blessing, now wouldn’t it?
(JB) Did Scott Rocker just go… America all over everybody’s ass?
(Tom) You better believe it! USA! USA! USA!
(JB) Something isn’t right with that kid.
(Tom) Don’t be hating on him just because you’re too afraid to throw down. Scott Rocker is a fighter, unlike that coward VYC.
(JB) VYC is a professional and he can choose his own battles.
(Tom) Well Scott Rocker is an American hero, and one hell of a rock ‘n’ roll superstar if I may say so myself.
(JB) I think we need to move on.
Demanding A Challenge
Fade into the office of Ray Buchanan, NAFW Commissioner and all around hard working chap, is in his office, standing, on the phone with somebody. His back is to the door, and he gets a bit of a start as it swings open and slams shut rather violently. As he turns around, he gets an good eye to eye with one Atlantic Champion, the more than rather violent Big City Hitman, Mike Stryker. Stryker is in his usual lathery rage as he lets loose on Buchanan, phone call be damned.
(Stryker) What the hell is going on in this place!!?? I came back here expecting competition!! I showed up here to start mowing people down again. I get a spot in Ultimate Showdown, and VYC backs out?
(Buchanan) Mr. Stryker, look-
Stryker takes a half a step forward and puts a finger in Buchanan’s face.
(Stryker) Look nothing, pal. I’m the damn Atlantic Champion. Last I checked, I’m all the champion you GOT in this place. And I’m here to be a champion. I’m here to act like a champion. I’m here to FIGHT like a champion. I’m not here to watch guys back out of my matches. I don’t have a match this week, and I’m gonna be damned if I don’t have one for another.
(Buchanan) First of all, just remember who made the decision to put the Atlantic Championship on the line last week, and who was the one that restarted the match to ensure we would have our first champion. Secondly, you have no interest in a bye? Really?
(Stryker) Did I stutter, Buchanan? Am I not CLEAR enough for you Buchanan? I’m here to fight. Not sit back and take the easy road. I want to be out there, busting my ass, giving these people a show week in and week out. Nothing else. Bottom line, I want to know what the deal is for next week. I want to know that I have a match. I want to know who I’m facing. And I want to know TONIGHT!!
(Buchanan) Well-
(Stryker) I didn’t ask for an explination. If you got someone lined up, I want to know who it is. If not, I suggest you get back on your little phone there and you start making calls, because before this night is over, I want to know who the next carcass is that I’m going to bury. I want to know who got the next stop on the Tour of Destruction. Now…
Stryker takes a half a step back, dusting off the lapels on Buchanans suit, smirking at Ray Buchanan, who’s all kinds of confused and taken aback by the interruption.
(Stryker) …have I made myself clear?
The look in Stryker’s eyes says that this is a yes or no type of question. Buchanan looks right back at the Atlantic Champion, unintimidated.
(Buchanan) You’ll have your match. But in the mean time, why don’t you do me a favor and escort yourself out of my office before I call Ryan McJohnson in here to do it for me?
Stryker smiles and hoists his title belt over his shoulder before walking out. Buchanan looks down, shaking his head. He better come up with something, and fast.
(JB) Stryker almost went off the deep end there demanding an opponent for Ultimate Showdown.
(Tom) Buchanan should award Scott Rocker the empty spot!
(JB) Yeah and maybe we should bring back the five sided ring!
(Tom) Nevermind.
These Halls Aren't Wide Enough
The scene fades in from wherever it was before. It was probably the ring, but then again, maybe it was a little hype video in between for the Ultimate Showdown Tournament, or a commercial for whatever company is sponsoring Annihilation this week. I don't pay attention to such things. All that matters at this moment is where we are now, and there's no denying where that is, as The Farmer walks into the shot.
The impressive newcomer is an imposing force in the shot as the huge six foot four man mountain strolls down the corridor. He's dressed in dusty blue jeans and a white muscle shirt as he turns one of the arena corners...
WHAM!!!
Michael McCarthy-Fitzpatrick just walked straight into a body coming the other direction. That body? Well it was none other than Sean Thomas, clad in jeans and an old school "Destined to Remember" t-shirt. Next to Sean - having narrowly avoided contact with The Farmer - is Thomas' new manager, known only as Twitch.
(Twitch) What the hell!?
Barely hearing his manager's comment, the former owner of the NAFW simply looks at the huge mass that stands in front of him and sneers.
(Sean) Excuse you.
The two (three if you count Twitch, but he has - perhaps wisely - stepped back for the moment) stand in silence for a moment.
(Sean) Cat got your tongue, buddy? Or do you just have nothing to say?
The Farmer brushes his hair aside.
(Farmer) Good luck tonight in our match. It is a real honour to share the ring with a legend such as you. Even if it means I'll lose my farm.
Sean Thomas looks at The Farmer blankly, as he had throughout Mickey's response.
(Sean) Our match? Who the frell are you?
(Farmer) I'm Michael McCarthy-Fitzpatrick. I go by The Farmer in the ring and I'm your first round opponent. I've read a lot about you this week and I've watched a number of your matches. It should be a really interesting contest.
The man formerly known as Spaz chuckles to himself.
(Sean) So you're the Farmboy...
Twitch chimes in from the sidelines.
(Twitch) That explains the smell.
Again, Sean remains focused on the man in front of him, as opposed to Twitch's commentary on the situation.
(Sean) Well Farmboy, if by "interesting contest" you mean "you getting destroyed and eliminated from the tournament in record time just because you had the poor stroke of luck to be put in my way" then sure, that works!
Twitch steps back in now, and he looks like he has more than a one-liner this time.
(Twitch) Don't you realize that you're looking at the first man to win the Ultimate Showdown Tournament? That was five years ago. While you were off pulling on your udder, stroking your chicken or whatever it is you do, he was travelling the world carrying this company on his back! He's been there, done that and had his face put on the t-shirt. He is everything that you can only imagine becoming!
The Farmer looks down at Twitch and smiles, before looking back at Sean. He replies to Twitch's comment, but is clearly addressing the legend in front of him.
(Farmer) Well yeah! You are who I hope to become!
The Farmer beams from innocent ear to innocent ear.
(Sean) Listen man... I don't know who you are and I don't know where you're from but -
(Farmer) Toronto...
Sean raises an eyebrow. For those unaware, his own hometown of Brampton is in the Greater Toronto Area.
(Sean) What?
(Farmer) I'm from Toronto. Well, outside the city. I have a farm.
(Sean) You must be proud. But you're not getting it, so let me put it like this: I. DON'T. CARE.
(Twitch) Or in words you might understand... Moo. Neigh. Cluck.
Again letting Twitch talk without really acknowledging his presence, Sean Thomas steps forward and is now inches from Michael McCarthy's face. Inches, because the NAFW rookie has five to spare on the legend, yet it's the man with the NAFW history who is the aggressor.
(Sean) I don't want to know anything about you. Or anything that you know about me. And do you want to know why?
(Farmer) Not really...
Now Sean ignores The Farmer, continuing as if Mickey hadn't even spoken.
(Sean) Because you are nothing to me. You're the first and tiniest bump on my road to the Foundation Championship. Another rookie that gets signed for people like me to destroy in the first round of tournaments. An imbecile that dreams of conquering the wrestling world, but is too stupid to realize how ridiculously outmatched he truly is.
It's just that simple.
Finished and feeling like he's spent way too much time on this already, Sean Thomas then shrugs past The Farmer, making a point of bumping shoulders with the labourer. But The Farmer just turns 180 degrees and calls after the ex-Spaz.
(Farmer) Mister Thomas...
Sean doesn't stop, or glance over his shoulder. He doesn't even reply, simply getting further away each second. This makes no difference to The Farmer though. He says his piece anyway, knowing Sean will hear it.
(Farmer) I'm going to enjoy harvesting you tonight!
Thomas shakes his head in arrogance and keeps walking, with Twitch in tow. The picture fades out with The Farmer watching his opponent walking away.
Carpe Diem
(Amie) Hey guys! I'm hanging out backstage with one of the newest signees to the NAFW! He's a man who may be familiar to some, but may be new to others. Ron Barker!
The shot widens as a smattering of boos can be heard from the crowd. Ron Barker, sporting his familiar smirk, begins to chuckle to himself. He looks different than what we're used to. No longer does he have the long black hair slicked back into a ponytail. It's been shortened and slightly mussed up. He's also sporting a 5 o'clock shadow in place of his normal goatee. He continues to chuckle as Amie asks her first question.
(Amie) Now Ron, we've just heard NAFW Commissioner Ray Buchanan announce that there is an open slot in the Ultimate Showdown tournament, with you coming to NAFW does that--
Ron snatches the microphone from her hands and scowls for a moment before raising it to his mouth and speaking.
(Ron) Familiar to some, new to others? Hell of a logic you got going there, blondie. Let's just cut right to the chase.
Barker addresses the camera instead of Amie who is looking a bit shaken up.
(Ron) The fact of the matter is, I've been away too long. I have spent the last few months sitting at home wondering where it all went wrong. I was riding high as one of the hottest athletes in this industry. I was the most hated, despised, loathed human being and was loving every second of it.
I was a champion. I held my title with such high esteem and I actually made that title WORTH something. I destroyed a man's life in my quest to prove that not only do I talk a big game, but I also back it up. Yeah, I was doing well. Nothing could have stopped me. I was on top of the world.
Ron stops speaking for a moment as his expression turns to disgust.
(Ron) But that all changed one snowy night in January. You see, it was all in the palm of my hand. I had everything. The title, the girl, the primrose path to glory... and it was taken from me just like that.
He snaps his fingers.
(Ron) No longer was I the manipulator, but now the manipulated. I couldn't tie up that loose end because of some unforeseeable circumstances. I became so enraged with hate that I had to step back and figure out what it was I truly hated. And then? I became it. I moved to Japan and became immersed. Garbage wrestling... cheap whiskey... cigars... I became the one thing I truly despised so that I can overcome it and seek what I want most.
Ron smiles a sick smile as he chuckles into the camera.
(Ron) Redemption!
He begins to laugh as Amie interrupts him with a tap on the shoulder. He looks at her then passes her the microphone.
(Amie) With that being said, are you going to be seeking that open spot in the Ultimate Showdown tournament?
Ron doesn't answer. Instead, he pushes back Amie's sandy blonde hair behind her eyes as he smirks. He begins to chuckle when he notices someone behind her.
(Ron) Ray! Ray Buchanan! Just the man who I need to speak with!
The interview is abruptly cut short as Ron Barker heads off towards the NAFW Commissioner. The camera pans to see the two meeting up. Ray seems a bit confused, but Ron ushers him along as he talks. We cut back to Amie Carmichael who looks a little dumbfounded.
(Tom) Why didn’t anyone tell me Ron Barker got signed to the NAFW?
(JB) No one told me either, but I have to say it’s a pleasant surprise. We’ll gladly welcome an athlete of his caliber.
(Tom) Yeah, I think I like him a lot better than VYC.
(JB) You may be the only one who feels that way. We’ll be right back!
COMMERCIAL BREAK
You
Welcome once again to the winding halls of the Charlotte Coliseum. This time around, we're focused on a man we have yet to see on screen since the rebirth of the Foundation. But we've heard from him, nonetheless. He is the head writer for the NAFW website. His name is Kramer.
Right now, the announcer-turned-web-writer has just left the "Cougar Position" in order to wander the halls and find tidbits for the Top Fifteen Rankings. What he is not looking for is a confrontation. But of course, that is exactly what's in store.
Kramer turns a corner and spots someone coming from the opposite direction. Well, actually two someones, but it's one that reacts to Kramer's presence.
(Twitch) You.
Alongside his new client, the man known as Twitch is now approaching his former partner and long-time nemesis.
(Kramer) Hey old buddy! How's it going?
That's our Kramer.
(Twitch) It was going just fine until about five seconds ago. How's your syphilis?
(Kramer) Ask your mom.
(Twitch) Son of a...
Twitch takes an aggressive step toward Kramer, but is held back by the firm grip of Sean Thomas, who has taken this opportunity to not act as if Twitch wasn't even there.
(Sean) Enough.
Twitch stares at his employer, dying to break free and lay into Kramer. Six months ago, he might have had a better chance of succeeding, but he's got absolutely no chance against the recently bulked up form of Thomas.
(Sean) Walk away, Kramer.
Kramer shrugs.
(Kramer) Alrighty!
Kramer continues on his merry way, as Sean's grip on Twitch remains strong. That doesn't stop Twitch from boring a hole through Kramer's head with a wicked glare.
(Sean) We have a match. Let's go.
After a moment more of the futile struggle, Twitch relaxes.
(Twitch) Fine!
Sean and Twitch walk past and out of the shot, and we try to catch up with Kramer, as he's about to go into a closed locker room. As he opens the door, his jaw drops, his eyes bulge and he does a triple-take.
(Kramer) Whoosawhat?
An arm reaches out from the door and yanks Kramer inside, shutting the door behind him. We try to follow, but the door is now locked.
Back to ringside.
(JB) Kramer looked like he'd just seen a ghost!
(Tom) Whoever's in that room sure doesn't want to be caught on camera.
(JB) So it would seem, Bear!
(Tom) Remember that time you caught me and your mom on camera?
(JB) That’s not funny Tom. That hurt… a lot.
One More Time?
We see a man in a large black shirt and white tie go up to the locker room of Charles Johnson, and he starts to knock on the door.
Yeah, it's him. Jaime Alejandro's in town, folks
(Jaime) Hey, Chuck! Open up, man!
From inside a loud voice is heard.
(Charles) Who the hell is it now….
Another knock on the door.
(Jaime) Aw, quit your bitching. Not like you were actually doing much there. Probably sleeping...
Inside Johnson gets off his couch and opens the door. Looking half asleep he motions the man to come into the room.
(Charles) I was surprised to see you here again, Jaime, and nice look. Got into business yourself?
Jaime looks at his old opponent and rival.
(Jaime) Been in business for a while. I'm co-chair with Alan Frost over at the Scrapyards Wrestling School. Considering that ol' Vinny's around being whatever the hell he is right now
After he enters. Johnson closes the door, and locks it again. He finds a seat and pulls out a bottle of water
(Charles) Want some? Eh? What has VYC been doing, and this is an odd situation. I haven’t seen him since Flint beat him for the XTC…
Taking a sip of water Johnson sets the bottle down.
(Charles) So what brings you by?
Jaime grabs a bottle of water from Charles.
(Jaime) Not a whole lot, man. Just around this week considering all the fun that I'm getting ready for. Who'd have thought we'd get the group back together?
Jaime takes a sip of his own now.
(Jaime) As far as VYC, he got married while healing up. His wife lets him get out his cross-dressing side more often. I guess the man's back at 100 percent, though. He's doing better than I am...
Johnson raises a brow and looks at Jaime.
(Charles) Life still has you down and out?
Johnson then sits back and rubs his eyes. Still trying to wake up, but he feels slightly uncomfortable. This man was the leader of the group bent on making sure he and the group from the old FLF were dealt with.
(Charles) Damn this is going to take a big to get use to again. Gone nearly eight months from the NAFW ring, and nearly six months away from any ring.
Jaime looks in the same fashion at Charles, this was the same guy who got too many matches on him in the old days.
(Jaime) Nah, life's good. Just got too many scars and bones rubbing together. I've been gone a good while from the ring. Working in a wrestling school isn't the same as the ring, to be honest.
Charles chuckles as thinks about the old days.
(Charles) Yes, well I worked as a creative control manager down at our local association.
He drinks a few more gulps of the water.
(Charles) It seems everybody is ready. I wonder what might go down with the Ultimate showdown going down this week.
Jaime looks at him.
(Jaime) So, is life getting back to normal down there, or is it still pretty bad, man?
Nodding slowly. Johnson seems focused now.
(Charles) Yeah, Things are back to normal, but there will always be a scare there.
He looks Jaime in the eyes now.
(Charles) You never answered my question. Why’d you drop by?
Jaime gets dead serious finally.
(Jaime) We had some barnburners back in the golden age, didn't we, Chuck?
Charles starts nodding again, and finishing up what is left of his water. Tossing his bottle to the side he sits up now.
(Charles) Indeed we did Jaime. If I remember the score was 3 to 1, with me having the lead in the “W” column.
Jaime laughs for a second when he realizes the man is right on this one.
(Jaime) How about after we settle who beats the /bleep/ out of Keith? We show these kids and old folks how the Southern boys do their thing?
Johnson’s mild expression turns into a frown and nods extending a hand.
(Charles) It’s a deal old rival. You, versus, Me the first week after Ultimate Showdown.
Jaime takes Charles's hand.
(Jaime) Let's do it. I'm sure these kids won't know what hit them.
After a firm shake Johnson stands up and shows Jaime to the door.
(Charles) Maybe this time you wont have Lane secretly in your corner to help you get the win… Oh, and good luck in the tournament, Mr. Alejandro.
(Jaime) Lane in the corner, I'm surprised the old man can lift his leg for that kick he does anymore...
Jaime laughs to himself and sees his way out. Johnson closes the door as the scene fades back to Tom, and JB.
(JB) Well it looks like things might be brewing again between Jaime Alejandro and Charles Johnson.
(Tom) Not brewing as much as between me and your mom!
(JB) Enough already! You’re not Twitch!
(Tom) Damn right I’m not. I didn’t get fired!
(JB) Yet…
Sean Thomas vs. Michael Fitzpatrick-McCarthy
Ultimate Showdown: Round 1
There go the lights and here comes the screeching guitar.
A single spotlight shines on the ramp as Hoobastank's "Just One" kicks into gear. The spot remains empty for a few moments, until the lyrics begin.
Sean Thomas steps into the light, wearing his simple dark red tights, elbow pads and wristbands. He also sports an NAFW Throwback t-shirt. Standing behind Sean is his newly hired manager, the man known as Twitch. The former commentator wears khakis and a grey golf shirt. As the music continues, the pair starts on their way to the ring.
(Tom) I can't believe Sean Thomas hired that jerk.
(JB) This is really a different Sean Thomas than the one we've known over the years Bear. I for one wish we could see the Spaz of old again!
(Tom) Don't count on it, Mannwheel. Sean's moved on, so why don't you?
Sean and Twitch pass the jeering fans, ignoring them completely. No hand slaps, not even a look in their direction. They just head straight to the ring, with nothing breaking their focus. Not even Troy Gilmore's voice.
(Troy) Introducing, from Brampton, Ontario... He weighs in at 232 pounds... SEAN THOMAS!
Sean climbs the steel steps and enters the ring between the middle and top ropes. Meanwhile Twitch wanders around to the far side of the ring. Once inside, Sean pulls off the t-shirt and tosses it over the rope, where Twitch catches it. As the music begins to fade, Sean tests the ropes, and Twitch plays a game of "Want it? Can't have it!" with fans in the front row.
(JB) Thomas looks poised for the win tonight Tom.
(Tom) Yeah he does doesn’t he?
A fire alarm and a siren erupted over the speakers as the opening seconds of “Third Reich From The Sun” by Hanzel und Gretyl signified the imminent entrance of Michael Fitzpatrick-McCarthy.
The song burst into it’s horrible glory as the impressive looking Canadian stepped onto the stage to a huge roar from the crowds, as he held his arms aloft. The Farmer stood still on the top of the stage and took in the huge ovation that the crowd were granting the impressive rookie before he started on his way to the ring. He began slapping hands on his way down and generally being a real sweetheart to the NAFW fans, before sliding under the bottom rope and springing to his feet in the centre of the ring.
Throwing his arms in the air again, The Farmer finished off his entrance by climbing on the bottom rope and taking another of wave of cheers from the crowd.
(Troy) And his opponent… Hailing from Toronto, Canada weighting in at 250lbs…“The Farmer” Michael Fitzpatrick-McCarthy.
(JB) Tough loss for the Farmer last week, but he has a chance this week.
(Tom) A very slim chance at that.
The Bell rings, and the two men don’t waste time getting at each other. The Farmer gets the slight size advantage as he knocks Thomas back with a few hard chops before Thomas comes back and ducks under The Farmer’s attack, and lock in and executes a quick Russian leg sweep. Farmer rubs the back of his head as he slowly tries to get to his feet, but Thomas knee’s his knees out from under him, and sends him down to the matt again.
(Tom) Seems Thomas hasn’t missed a beat since he was last in the ring.
(JB) Yeah, but doesn’t he look different than the last time he was here?
(Tom) I dunno.
Thomas doesn’t waste time again, and places both of his knees into Farmer’s back, and wraps his arm around the neck of his opponent. Thomas then grabs the legs with his other arm, and leans back putting firm pressure on the farm’s back. Thomas has a firm hold on the Farmer with the bow and arrow move. On the outside Twitch taunt McCarthy as he struggles. Thomas loses his balance just a bit, and McCarthy manages to grab the bottom rope as the ref forces Thomas to break the hold.
(JB) Twitch is out here for no good reason, but to be a pain in the ass.
(Tom) Somebody else is being a pain in the ass.
Thomas rolls to his side, and gets up as McCarthy holds his lower back as he manages to get himself up via the ropes. Thomas comes rushing at McCarthy, but he manages a clothesline on Thomas. Thomas goes down and is slow to get up but McCarthy knocks him back down to the matt. McCarthy mounts Thomas and starts to punch Thomas in the upper body face section before the ref pulls him off. Thomas quickly rolls to the outside as Twitch helps him regroup.
(JB) I see it now. He’s gained weight, and he’s hasn’t done the high flying antics that we all know from him.
(Tom) Gained weight?
(JB) Yeah about thirty odd pounds.
(Tom) Maybe he’s changed for the better. He’s showing this farmer what happens when you try to take on a legend.
McCarthy takes this time to recover from the attacks on his lower body. Thomas comes back into the ring after a few moments, and also not to get counted out. Thomas wastes little time in getting in a few hard shots to the Farmer’s upper torso knocking him slightly off balance and then getting a hard kick to his legs to send the bigger man down to one knee. Thomas gets McCarthy up to his fee and sends him into the ropes and then lands a hard Samoan Drop.
(JB) Weren’t Thomas’ eyes brown at one time? They are blue now.
(Tom) Do you know what color contacts are JB?
(JB) Yes, but why are they brown now?
(Tom) I give up.
Thomas nods to Twitch who gives him another nod. The crowd boos as Thomas makes his way over to the Farmer, and quickly applies the sharpshooter. McCarthy’s legs, and back are now in more pain but manages to get himself to the bottom rope. Thomas wont let it go as Twitch attempts to break McCarthy’s hold on the bottom rope. The ref has no choice but to shove Thomas off, and Twitch gets up onto the apron to argue with the ref. As Twitch and the ref go at it a figure comes out of the crowd, and into the ring and stares down Sean Thomas.
(JB) It, It cant be is it Tom?
(Tom) You’ve got me on this one.
The mysterious man attacks Thomas, and quickly lands a few chops to the chest before the crowd goes into a roar as hit’s the sugar rush. Taking his time he then jumps off the middle rope in a springboard moonsault. The man tells McCarthy to cover his opponent before running off back into the crowd. Twitch blinks and gets off the apron as the ref turns and quickly counts one, two, three, and rings the bell. Thomas is still stunned at what happened, and what he saw.
(Troy) Your winner, and advancing to the next round of the Ultimate Showdown Tournament… ‘The Farmer” Michael Fitzpatrick-McCarthy!
(JB) I’m speechless folks, I don’t have any answer for what just happened.
(Tom) Screwjob is all I can say.
COMMERCIAL BREAK
1337 = \/\/!|_|) B0Y5?
This portion of the NAFW brings you to the backstage area, in a lobby somewhere far far away.. seriously folks.. we go to a backstage lobby, where a cameraman pans around, and it being relatively empty, except for one lone soul. He is sitting in a chair in the corner, talking to someone. The camera pans over to see who it is. It is Snake, one half of the Wild Boys, and you want to take a guess who he is talking to? You guessed it... his volleyball friend Wilson.
(Snake) I'm telling you right now for the 5th time, there's no way that they're going to win....*Pause*...I don't care if they've got Galaticus, the fact of the matter is that they're the freakin Autobots!
Snake doesn't even notice the cameraman behind him, as he continues to talk to his volleyball friend.
(Snake) And you think you'd make a great Galaticus? You do realize that he's over 20 stories tall, right?
Snake listens closely to Wilson and shakes his head.
(Snake) Camera angles!? You're a freaking volleyball!
Snake listens again and shakes his head again.
(Snake) Oh, don't even talk about make-up artists...There's no way anyone can cover that round face of yours so that you look like a metal robot...
Snake is so absorbed into the conversation, that he doesn't even notice the shuffling of feet and voices from behind him. The cameraman turns around and notices it is both members of the 1337, Rurik Krychek and Dave Richmond, walking through. They take a quick scan of the area, and notice Snake talking to Wilson. They can't help but laugh and point behind his back. Snake doesn't even notice the guys talking about him behind his back.
(Krychek) The faceless of the NAFW take another step towards insanity...
(Dave) Indeed, why did they even bother rebuilding this cesspool?
(Krychek) Because the pacifyer of freedom from the cesspool only temporarily pacifyed them. Eventually the greed over took their desires for freedoms.
Snake looks up from Wilson as Krychek says the word "pacifyed"
(Snake) Are you trying to call me a pedophile!?
(Krychek) ... Sadly humorous how quick the cesspoolers align themselves with disgusting deeds.
Snake's head quickly shoots down to look at Wilson, only to look back at Krychek and Richmond with a chuckle.
(Krychek) ...Yes I was refering to you.
(Snake) You know, Wilson makes a good point...
(Krychek) That your mask is on too tight?
(Snake) No...It's that you two DO look alot like Ringo Star and Paul McCartney...You two ever think about going into the music business? I'm sure you could get a record deal from tooting your own horns into the mics.
(Krychek) ... Your insults are as intellegent as that of Britney Spears.
Behind all of the commotion that is happening, there is another voice that has popped up...
(???) What is going on here?
(Krychek) Alas, the faceless, do you never stop to not taunt me...
The camera turns around, along with the other guys, and sees that it is the other half of the Wild Boys.. Tyrone "Crazy Boy" Smith. He has a Vault soda in his hand, and is drinking on it slowly.
(CB) What are you two doing here? Trying to find someone else to torture, eh?
(Snake) It's more like trying to bore me with their math..
(Krychek) 112358...13...21 34 55 89.
(Snake) And Wilson didn't take to kindly to that sort of word!
(Krychek) ...I can feel my IQ dropping with each syllable.
(CB) Listen, I don't know who you think you are talking to, But Snake here is a former Quicksilver Champion, the longest one in NAFW might I add. I am a former United States, Intercontinental Champion, and X-Treme Champion. If you don't want to get hurt, you will get the hell out of here.. now.
(Snake) No need to rub it in...
(Krychek) Former. United States Champion. Former Quicksilver Champion. Former Intercontinental, former X-Treme. I hear former far too often to take your threat as though you're serious.
Krychek and Richmond stare at the Wild Boys, not seeming all that intimidated.
(Snake) This coming from the Former OSW and Xtreme Champion.
(Krychek) Unlike your former tags, my former tags are given by the titles being forceably taken by management. You two were beaten.
(CB) Are you saying you are better than us?
(Krychek) I don't have to say it, it's implied.
(Snake) But Wilson wants to hear it straight from the jackasses mouths...
(Krychek) You talk to donkeys as well?
(Snake) You mean we're not talking to them now? Cause I could've sworn....
(Krychek) Deaf, blind, and dumb. I see the masses still ingest opium in large amounts. I think we'll leave you to your opiums.
Krychek reaches out and smacks Wilson out of Snake's hands, sending Wilson bouncing off the floor and then back into Snake's arms. Krychek and Richmond turn around and walk off. Snake begins to breathe heavily, suggesting that what Krychek had done had indeed pissed him off. Snake takes a step towards the 1337, but Crazy Boy quickly puts an arm out to stop him.
(CB) Don't worry about it, Snake.. they are nothing but a bunch of hot air. They may talk tough, but you know as well as I do, that we can kick their asses anytime of the week.
Crazy Boy starts to walk away from Snake and nods his head.
(CB) I will make sure they will leave us alone.
CB walks away from Snake, leaving him alone, letting this segment fade to black.
Showdown At High Noon
Fade in.
We're in one of the halls of the Charlotte Coliseum, where a few production assistants are running back and forth through the halls. It soon enough gets quiet, dead quiet, as Sebastian Hawke walks into the frame. His face slowly cranes to the left, looking to the camera.
(Hawke) Good evening, folks of Charlotte North Carolina, as well as the thousands of you watching at home.
He stretches his arms out, as if he were inviting the viewers at home to see the walls of the arena; offering it to them as if it were going to become their own.
(Hawke) This is your new North American Foundation of Wrestling. I hope you’re glad to join us as much as I’m glad to be here.
He looks around, only for a brief moment as he allows that to sink in. His head turns back to the camera.
(Hawke) A lot of people have come before me, talking about what they are going to do, how big of an impact they’re going to make and how damn good they are. That’s what this business is about. It’s about showing your peers and your fans that you are the superior product, the hottest commodity, the top dollar of this industry. That’s exactly what I’m here for.
He smiles, widely, as he stares deep into the camera.
(Hawke) You see, being told you’re entire life that you’d never amount to anything isn’t just enough inspiration for me. It’s only the beginning. I’m here because this is what I lived for, breathed for, died for. This is what was in my blood since I was little. I picked up a chair and swung it at people before I ever sat in it. The first schoolyard fight I got into, I punched a guy then followed it up with an elbow drop when he hit the floor. I was born for this.
He begins fiddling with his wrists, as he continues to watch the television.
(Hawke) And last week, against Johnson, that was the beginning of what can be a beautiful thing. I lived up to my promise. I wasn’t pinned nor did I submit and that’s exactly what I’m promising to you, this next week in the Ultimate Showdown Tournament. Yours truly is going to be in the second half of the First Round of Competition. And I’m putting all my competitors on notice.
Hawke smiles, stroking his chin before he leans into the camera. His eyes are ablaze with intensity and determination, his chest heaves with every word.
(Hawke) I’m… coming for Keith… And there’s not a damn thing… you can do to stop me… It has to be now… Because after all…
Hawke smiles, indifferently.
(Hawke) We don’t live forever.
And as he steps back, we slowly fade out.
A Decision Has Been Made
The scene fades in to the office of Commissioner Ray Buchanan. He sits behind his desk and the camera is zoomed up close to him. Like usual, he wastes no time getting right down to business.
(Buchanan) I promised you all that I would reach my decision regarding the vacated spot in Ultimate Showdown next week, and I’m pleased to inform you that I have.
Next week, right here on TNT, Mike Stryker will face… Ron Barker as his first round Ultimate Showdown opponent!
The camera pulls out to reveal Ron Barker sitting in front of Ray Buchanan’s desk. The two men shake hands. Barker seems to have a devious smile on his face.
(Buchanan) This should be a highly anticipated contest. May the best man win.
The crowd reacts with a chorus of boos directed at Barker as the shot fades out.
After all, it’s not like Ron Barker is a fan favorite no matter where he goes.
(JB) That’s huge news Bear! Not only has Ron Barker joined the ranks here in the NAFW, but he’ll be making his in-ring debut next week on Annihilation against our Atlantic Champion Mike Stryker in the first round of Ultimate Showdown!
(Tom) Well, at least Barker is the type of fellow I can get behind. Not like that wussy VYC.
(JB) Haven’t you said that enough tonight? Moving on, it’s time to see Andy D and Jaime Alejandro in action for what I’m sure will be another action packed first round performance.
Andy D vs. Jaime Alejandro
Ultimate Showdown: Round 1
"Shake Your Blood" by Probot cranks up on the loudspeakers. Jaime Alejandro steps out to the pops as he pulls out his hands and motions for the crowd to give him some more. He's dressed out in his black singlet, his sleeve over his right arm, and the reinforced knee brace over his right knee. He straps the gloves on and starts walking. He pulls the straps on his singlet up as he gets to the apron. Then he primes himself and jumps straight up on the apron and pulls the ropes back to pyro from the corners of the ring. He then goes under the top rope and stands up to get ready.
(Troy) This next match is scheduled for one fall with a 30 minute time limit, and is an ULTIMATE SHOWDOWN match! Introducing first in the corner to my left, from the United Kingdom and weighing in at 197 pounds...this is "The Ace One" Andy D! His opponent in the far corner, hailing from San Antonio Texas, weighing 280 pounds..."The Saint" Jamie Alejandro!
(JB) Both of these great competitors are getting a loud ovation here in North Carolina.
(Tom) What do these people know? Why are they cheering Alejandro? The man is a degenerate! He just got out of rehab you know! He's hardly a great example for our fans to cheer!
The two men lock up in a standard collar and elbow tie up. The Saint has the clear size and power advantage, so he easily forces Andy D back to the mat. Andy D instantly kips up however, and stuns Alejandro when he leaps into the air and executes a picture perfect huracanrana! Alejandro spins in the air, and hits the mat. Andy D. dives on him for a quick over...count of 1...and Alejandro powers out. Andy tries to pull Alejandro up to his feet, but The Saint roughly shoulderblocks Andy D to the mat as he gets up. Jamie Alejandro drives all of the wind out of Andy D with a knee to the midsection, and then pulls him to his feet, and smoothly powers him backward to the mat with a back suplex, into a bridge! 1...2...NO! Andy gamely kicks out!
(JB) An impressive back suplex by Alejandro, but I tell you, this Andy D is going to be one of the dark horses in the new NAFW. He's not going down for anybody.
(Tom) He should offer Alejandro a drink and The so-called Saint would probably just submit!
As Alejandro reaches down, grabs Andy D, and tries to pull him to his feet, Andy hooks his arm around The Saint's neck and rolls him into a small package! The ref is shocked for a moment, but then gets down for the count...1...2...at the last minute Jamie Alejandro powers out of the small package with such strength that he sends both men sprawling. They are both up at the same time, and as Andy D charges towards The Saint, Alejandro flattens the smaller man with a big boot to the face! The Saint pulls Andy D up, sets him up, and then pummels him into the mat with a side slam! Jamie Alejandro stays on top of Andy D for a cover...1...2...NO! Andy D gets the shoulder up, and Alejandro shakes his head in amazement.
(JB) Jamie Alejandro has hammered Andy D into the mat with a back suplex and a side suplex, compressing the bones, driving the air out...and Andy D still won't stay down!
(Tom) Yeah, he's resilient I'll give him that.
Andy D slowly gets to his feet, shaking his head to clear the cobwebs. Alejandro is breathing heaving, and Andy leaps into the air and nails him with a dropkick. The Saint starts to stagger. Andy nails him with a flying forearm, and Alejandro starts to fall. The Ace One finishes it off with a running STO, and The Saint hits the mat like a ton of bricks! Andy D scrambles to the top rope, and as flashbulbs go off all over the arena, he executes a Shooting Star Press! Cover! 1...2...thr...NO! NO! At the last minute, Jamie Alejandro drapes his leg over the bottom rope! The fans go nuts! Andy D holds his head and curses loudly. The ref has to hold up two fingers to the timekeeper and fans.
(JB) That was it! That was it, come on!
(Tom) No, look at this replay...Alejandro got his foot over that rope just in the nick of time...but it was close.
Andy D grabs Jamie Alejandro by the back of the head, and Irish Whips him into the ropes. Alejandro comes off with a shoulderblock which send Andy to the mat. Alejandro drops an elbow, and another. The Saint backs up, and gets set to drop a massive legdrop over the torso of Andy D, but the Ace One moves! Andy D. rolls Jamie Alejandro up but Alejandro kicks upward and boots Andy D right on the jaw, sending him sprawling backward. Alejandro gets to his feet, and fires a knee smash at Andy right as he is getting up, sending him sprawling. Jamie Alejandro grabs the stunned Andy, throws him over his shoulders, in position for a Samoan Drop...but then angles him high in the air and drops him front side first into the mat!
(JB) The Crimson Revolver! One! Two! Three! Jamie Alejandro wins!
(Tom) I guess...but I still want to see another slow motion of that Shooting Star Press...because I think your real winner is Andy D...and plus...Alejandro is a drunk!
(JB) Enough of that!
(Troy) Here is your winner and advancing...The Saint...Jamie Alejandro!
Takin’ Care of Business
The camera quickly cuts to the personal locker room of the Trust Fund Kids. Keith Owens is sitting on a plush leather chair, with Melissa Hayes sitting on the arm of it, wearing a skirt that’s not hiding much… Neither is her low cut top for that matter.
Details aside, Keith is intently staring at the television screen in his room, where Jaime Alejandro is still in the ring celebrating his hard fought victory over Andy D.
Suddenly, Owens gets up, grabbing that Foundation Heavyweight Championship belt that’s technically not his and only God knows why he still has it in his possession.
(Keith) Lets go Melissa. I’m going to take care of Jaime Alejandro once and for all.
Just as Keith is about to reach the doorknob to open the door, it flies open in his face, and Trevor Cunning bursts in.
(Trevor) Where do you think you’re going big guy?
(Keith) I’m going out there to get revenge for what Jaime and Bishop did to me last week. No one here puts me through that God damn announce table and gets away with it! I’m the Foundation Heavyweight Champion!
Cunning rolls his eyes at Keith in regards to that “I’m the Foundation Heavyweight Champion” comment, but Keith doesn’t catch it.
The frat boy puts his hand into Keith’s chest and stops him from going any further.
(Trevor) Save it for another time. Right now, you might want to check this out…
Trevor pushes Keith back into the locker room and closes the door on the camera man and locks him out of the Trust Fund Kid locker room. Like usual, the Trust Fund Kids have something up their sleeve, but what exactly is anyone’s guess.
Cut to commercial.
COMMERCIAL BREAK
HUSH
The screen fades to black, inviting you, the viewer, into the abyss of nothingness, only to be pierced by the voice of an innocent, little girl.
Hush little baby mama's near,
To wipe your brow and calm your fears.
To kiss your cheek and hold your hand,
'Til you drift off to sleepyland.
As the song goes on, the cutesy, whimsical voice of the little girl, begins to warp into a hidious sounding beast's voice as she continues to recite the nursery rhyme;
And sIng yOu SOngS 'TiL yOU'rE aSLeEP.
tO tElL yoU TaLEs oF kINGs AnD qUEEnS,
AnD jaCk aND JILl ANd WONDERFUL THINGS-...
Then, suddenly, a gut-wrenching scream emerged from the background, as though the very life of the childish voice itself had been struck down by some unknown power. But then, shortly but surely, flashes of lightning began to rain down on the darkness, exposing two figures;
One, a wirey man dressed in light-colored clothing, sporting a bowler hat, and who's eerily ruby red eyes shone through the darkness.
The other, a hulking behemoth who's masked face concealed any sign of compassion, caring or life from within. An individual who looked as if he had been brought forth for one purpose... To destroy.
And as the flashing lightning continued to barely luminate the sinister-looking pair, the smaller man, leaning on what appeared to be a black cane, spoke in a blunt manner;
"Beware... Of HUSH."
Immediately, the screen faded again to black, and piercing the empty, soundless darkness, were these words for all to see:
THE TIME HAS NEARLY COME…
Home Sweet Home
Backstage, in the locker room, we see Diamond Del Carver, standing in front of his locker. When the fans in the arena see The Hardcore Outlaw, a loud cheer goes up. Carver smiles, and starts to speak...
(Carver) All of you watching on TNT right now...you hear them cheers, don't you? Them people is cheering because they know me. They know Diamond Del Carver from the years that I wrestled right here in North Carolina, every week, in Winston-Salem. They know that I will bust my hump, week in, and week out, to give them the best show I possibly can. They know I do whatever I have to do to survive.
Now, what they know me from...that wasn't in the NAFW. That was for a different company, and that's a small problem. See a lot of people are making a big hoo-ha about the fact that I'm not working for another company no more. A lot of people are surprised that I'm here. A lot of people say that when they think of that other company, they think of me. Well guess what? After this week, I'm not going to talk about that other place no more. Been there, done that. That's my past...and I'm not going to worry about my past...I'm looking at my future. And let me tell you something right now, the NAFW is the future of this here business. The NAFW has the most solid roster, the hardest working rasslers, and the best fans anywhere in North America. So all due respect to those other organizations out there...but from now on, Diamond Del Carver is all about NAFW. I don't want to talk about no other places, and I don't want to hear about them neither. I might be a beat up old hack, but I ain't stuck in the past, I'm here because I want to be here, and I'm here because this is where all the biggest and best names are. I'm proud to be NAFW, and I ain't about to disrespect the NAFW fans, office, or other boys by constantly talking about the past. I plan on blazing my own path here in the NAFW, a path so damn wide that people are going to forget all about my past, and any other places I worked. The best way to do that, is by winning that Foundation Heavyweight Championship, so I want to thank the NAFW for giving me the chance to do that.
Tonight, I take the first step down that road, when I take on Trevor Cunning. So boy, you best git down on your knees right now, and pray to whoever you worship to watch your backside for you...because in a matter of minutes, I'm coming to kick that backside, and there ain't no hell on earth worse, than a butt kicking from Diamond Del Carver, boy.
Fade out!
(JB) Strong words from Diamond Del Carver, who will be making his NAFW re-debut here in just a matter of minutes!
(Tom) I wonder how he’ll feel losing to Trevor Cunning in his debut?
(JB) I’m not going to place bets either way, but the contest between the Frat Boy and the Veteran should be a close one.
Going to the New School
We interrupt the this bickering between announcers to cut backstage, where the Old School Empire are standing. "The Alpha" Shane Thomas is smirking in his younger brother's face. Shane is wearing a wifebeater, and grey sweatpants. Dustin, however, is wearing his wrestling gear. He is jumping up and down in place, warming up his body, apparently.
(Shane) You're an idiot, dude. You mean to tell me that you're going to walk down to the ring, and make an open challenge?
Dustin nods.
(Shane) Anyone can answer an open challenge. It could be damn David Kurresh. Maybe that Cylent guy. Hell, maybe Whitney Sarven will make her long awaited return with Nightmare to reform the Points of Authority with that sumbitch Mike Lane.
Dustin just shakes his head, and flashes some pearly whites.
(Dustin) It's all under control, bro.
He jerks his head back over his shoulder, and a new man enters the frame. Well, more like a boy, actually. Not even as tall as Dustin, this kid is pasty, and looks like he's scared out of his mind.
(Dustin) This is Jay. I tried to find Silent Bob, but who knows where he was.
*Badum Ching* Horrible joke alert.
(Dustin) So yeah, see ya out there, Jay!
He claps the kid on the back, and walks off. Shane puts his hand on Jay's shoulder.
(Shane) Good luck, kid.
He turns to walk away, and mumbles under his breath.
(Shane) You're gonna need it.
(JB) Dustin Thomas makes his "open challenge..." next!
COMMERCIAL BREAK
As we come back from commercial, Lil Wayne's "Fireman" is playing through the arena. Dustin Thomas is standing in the middle of the ring, and he has a microphone!
(Dustin) Last week, myself and my brother Shane, the Old School Empire, came to the conclusion that the key to being a successful tag team around here is to first be successful in singles competition. I mean, take a look at those net nerd guys, or the Wild Boys. Both of those teams are made up of guys who have been singles competitors in the past. We're still better than these teams, but we feel like we need the edge.
Dustin pauses for a moment to soak in the heat from the crowd. It's not much, but it could be worse. He's lucky this is a hot crowd tonight.
(JB) I've always said that a good tag team will beat two singles stars any day of the week. Teams like Social Disorder or Cruel Intentions didn't have to wrestle singles matches to be a successful tag team.
(Dustin) So what I've decided to do, to put myself on the map, is to make an open challenge here tonight. Anyone in that locker room, and anyone in the building period, are welcome to walk down to my ring, and let me take you to school.
He looks around, and points to an especially ornery fan on the front row, before continuing.
(Dustin) Any takers?
Thomas paces the ring, along the ropes, and looks around the arena.
(JB) Let's get that kid out here, and get this crap over with.
Some stupid fan tries to jump the rail, but the crack security squad holds him back. Ryan McJohnson gets a brief on-camera moment, as he yells at his boys to get the fan out of the arena.
(Tom) Look who it is!
Meanwhile, Dustin is beginning to look nervous. Jay has yet to appear.
(JB) We have actual matches to get to here, people!
The video screen is suddenly on fire with motion. It is now showing a scene backstage.
(JB) What's going on?
We appear to be looking at the usual backstage scene, but then the camera pans down, and our new friend Jay is laid out on the concrete. Cut back to the arena where Dustin Thomas now has quite the surprised look on his face.
(Tom) I bet it's just Shane wanting to one-up his brother.
As if on cue, Shane walks into the frame. Well, he ran actually, but who's counting here. He surveys the scene, and then his eyes seem to focus on something out of frame. His eyes go wide, and he shakes his head, mumbling again.
(Shane) You're on your own for this one, man.
The camera leaves Shane alone, and turns to face what caught Shane's attention. All we can see is the blurry frame of a man walking away.
(JB) Who is that?
The cameraman has quite a bit of ground to make up, so he gives chase to the walking man, but due to his running, he can't get a clear view of who the man is. Back in the ring, Dustin is looking around a bit jittery.
(Tom) Come on, tub-o-lard, let's get steady here.
As the man reaches the Cougar Position, the camera man, runs around him and gets a facial shot.
(Tom) Sweet Mary Mother of God!
The crowd explodes as the video screen is now showing the face of...
THE INTRUDER
(JB) I never... not in a million years...
Even Charlie Jones in the truck is too flabbergasted to do anything. No music, no pyro, nothing. In the ring, Dustin Thomas's eyes are the size of Jupiter right now, and he looks like he wants to be anywhere but here.
(JB) Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Matthew Kurresh.
And indeed you do, JB Mann. The Intruder has entered the Charlotte Coliseum, and these people are hyped to see this former two time Foundation Champion. Dustin Thomas is pretty much a sack of goo right now, trying to catch his composure. Kurresh strides down the aisle, not giving mind to anything, but that man in the middle of the ring.
(JB) Go get ya some, Intruder!
(Tom) Dustin, you might want to call in The Alpha now! He may be one of the few guys in the locker room who can match strength with Matthew Kurresh!
(JB) But not momentum. This is a seven footer, and he doesn't back down.
At ringside, Troy Gilmore has the floor.
(Troy) Charlotte! The open challenge... HAS BEEN ANSWERED!!! First, from Toledo, Ohio... Dustin Thomas.
Thomas is trying to psyche himself up for this.
(Troy) And his opponent...
Kurresh is in the ring, and the people are popping like mad!
(Troy) He is a for...
Dustin Thomas vs. The Intruder
Impromptu Open Challenge
Troy doesn't get to finish his schtick because Dustin Thomas has done the only thing he knew how to do... attacked. He leaps at Kurresh with some kind of body press, but it doesn't really matter because The Intruder will not be denied. He plucks Thomas out of the air, and sends the kid flying across the ring.
(JB) I've missed this man!
(Tom) Oh really, I didn't know you swung that way?
(JB) ...
Let the beatdown commence. It doesn't take too long, though. A few kicks in the corner, and Kurresh grabs Thomas around the throat.
(JB) Get ready!
Intruder takes Thomas up for a huge chokeslam, that he calls the Black Curtain, but Thomas has the presence of mind to wrap his legs around Kurresh's neck.
(Tom) You idiot!
Intruder grins an evil grin, and lets go of Thomas's neck. The Charlotte crowd is on their feet as Intruder pulls his opponent up into the powerbomb position.
(JB) Here it comes...
Trudes executes the Sit-Down Powerbomb with enough force to shake the ring to it's foundations, no pun intended.
(JB) DROP OUTTA HELL!!!
Kurresh doesn't make the cover though. He stands back to his feet, and shakes out his wrist. The crowd is still on their feet as he wraps his meaty paw around Dustin's neck, who is pretty much done. However, foul things are afoot as the lights suddenly go out!
(JB) What the hell!?
(Tom) Whose hand was that?
(JB) Not mine!
(Tom) Oh wait... it was my own! That sitting on your hand trick really works!
(JB) ...
(Tom) Wait, are we still on the air?
(JB) Yes, Bear.
(Tom) Damn.
The lights snap back on, and we are greeted by a strange sight. Intruder is knocked the fuck out, lying face up on the mat, a nice gash on his forehead. Dustin Thomas, whose mind isn't even in the same country as the rest of us, is draped over the former Foundation Champion. For the first time, the official in the ring is called upon to make a count.
1...2...
(JB) For the love of God!
3!!!
(Tom) I don't believe it! Dustin Thomas has defeated Matthew Kurresh, the Intruder, a former two time Foundation Champion, in the middle of the ring. One, two, three!
(JB) What the hell happened when those lights were off?
Shane has charged down to the ring, and he is pulling his brother out of there. Shane's eyes are focused solely on Kurresh though, hoping for no signs of life until he gets out of there.
(Tom) Well, I know how I fe...
(JB) Not that, Bear. What happened in the ring.
With Dustin slung over his shoulder, Shane high tails it for the backstage area, leaving Kurresh laid out in the middle of the ring.
(JB) I've been following this man for a long time, and it takes a lot more than a guy like Dustin Thomas to lay out Matthew Kurresh.
(Tom) What about Shane?
(JB) Even if Shane could have done it, the lights weren't out long enough for him to get out to the ring, and all the back backstage again.
Before we cut away, we have a nice image of the victor, Dustin Thomas, unconscious and slung over his older brother's shoulder, with the image of Intruder laid out right behind them on the video screen.
(JB) What a mess. We’re going to take an unexpected short commercial break to clean up the ring, and we’ll have our main event when we come back!
COMMERCIAL BREAK
Diamond Del Carver vs. Trevor Cunning
Ultimate Showdown: Round 1
"Sober" by Tool kicks in, and Trevor Cunning appears in the aisle, and starts to make his way down to the ring. Cunning is wearing a blue and white tear away track suit. As he reaches the ringside area, he removes the track suit, and stands there in his Navy blue and white singlet, white boots, wrist tape, knee, and elbow pads. Cunning has a disgusted looking sneer on his face as he climbs the steps into the ring. The fans are showering "The Godfather" with boos, but Cunning doesn't even seem to notice as he stands on the opposite side of the ring from Diamond Del Carver, staring at his opponent with utter contempt.
(Troy) Ladies and Gentlemen, this match is an Ultimate Showdown Match, scheduled for one fall, with a 30 minute time limit or television time remaining. Standing to my right, now making his home in Texarkana, Texas, and weighing in at 247 pounds, this is "The Hardcore Outlaw" Diamond Del Carver! His opponent hails from Greenwich, Connecticut and tips the scales at 287 pounds, this is "The Godfather" Trevor Cunning!
(JB) We're getting ready to go here Tom, and these two men didn't have much good to say about each other this past week.
(Tom) Yeah they don't like each other at all, and on top of that, this match has a lot riding on it, since it's an Ultimate Showdown match.
As soon as the bell rings, Carver and Cunning approach the center of the ring, both men looking tentative and cautious. Suddenly and without warning, Trevor Cunning dives low with a shoulder tackle, and takes Diamond Del Carver's legs out from underneath him! Del Carver is caught totally off guard and goes down like a ton of bricks. Trevor Cunning stands over Del Carver, who is flat on his back on the canvas. Cunning grabs Carver's right leg, and twists it, and flips Carver over on to his front. Cunning then sits back as far as he can, pulling on Diamond Del Carver's right leg!
(JB) Single leg Boston Crab by Trevor Cunning...and look at Diamond Del Carver's face! He's in agony, and this match just started!
(Tom) Ha Ha Ha! You know why Cunning is doing this don't you? Ha! This is BRILLIANT! Carver had his right hip replaced six months ago...and now Trevor Cunning is wrenching on it as hard as he can, after softening it up with that shoulder tackle! Look at the great "Hardcore Outlaw" screaming in pain like a little girl! This is great! This is what happens when outsiders come into the NAFW and think they're going to walk straight to the top! Break his hip, Trevor! Break it!
Diamond Del Carver is indeed screaming in agony, as Trevor Cunning smirks and leans back as far as he can, putting as much pressure as possible on the right hip. Carver looks around slowly, gauging the distance to the ropes on each side of him. The Hardcore Outlaw appears to decide that the ropes directly in front of him are the closest, so he digs his fingernails into the mat, and starts to pull himself towards the ropes, inch by painful inch. Cunning bears down as hard as he can, but Carver is determined and he pulls himself slowly to the ropes...closer...closer...until he finally reaches the ropes!
(JB) Carver makes it to the ropes! Cunning has to break that hold now!
(Tom) Doesn't matter JB, the damage has been done! Carver won't be able to walk! His big NAFW comeback is over before it even started!
Trevor Cunning releases Diamond Del Carver from the single leg Boston Crab hold, and stands up. Before Carver can even get to his feet, Cunning takes aim and drops a knee with stunningly accurate kneedrop, right into Carver's right hip again! Del Carver shouts out in pain, screaming out a word that is probably not appreciated by the TNT network. Trevor Cunning gets to his feet, grabs the top rope to hold himself in place, and then begins to stomp away like a madman, over and over and over again on the right hip of Diamond Del Carver! Del Carver is thrashing around desperately trying to escape the onslaught from Trevor Cunning, but Cunning is ruthless in his efforts to stomp Diamond Del Carver into the mat.
(JB) Trevor Cunning is wrestling this match like a man possessed. He's not trying to beat Diamond Del Carver, he's trying to cripple him!
(Tom) Good! Like I said before, this is not the Project! Who does Carver think he is, coming in here and trying to assume he's going to be some big shot? He's out of his league, and in over his head! Trevor Cunning is going to show him how we do things in the NAFW, and send him home on a stretcher!
Finally, the referee steps in and stands over Diamond Del Carver, ordering Trevor Cunning to back off. Cursing at the referee, Cunning backs off, and Diamond Del Carver uses the ropes to pull himself to his feet slowly. Once Carver is standing, Cunning stands in his face, and derisively SLAPS the Hardcore Outlaw! The fans gasp in shock at the blatant show of disrespect, and Diamond Del Carver himself looks mildly shocked. Before Carver can even react to the slap from Cunning, Trevor reaches across, and rakes his hand across Diamond Del Carver's good eye! Carver's hands fly to his face, as he is now effectively blinded. Trevor Cunning steps back, measures Carver off, and starts to fire a rapid succession of shots upside Diamond Del Carver's head, over and over again. Carver starts to stumble around the ring, unable to protect himself from the pummelling from Trevor Cunning. Cunning hammers Carver over and over and over, until the veteran collapses to the mat.
With a sneer on his face, Trevor Cunning casually walks over to the apron, and grabs the jacket from his tracksuit. Cunning pulls a small "Mickey" of Jack Daniels out of the pocket and holds it up! The fans laugh, as Cunning takes a long drink out of the bottle. With the bottle still in his hand, Cunning walks over to where Diamond Del Carver is collapsed in the ring, rubbing his eye. Cunning pulls Carver to his feet by the hair, and suddenly, he SPEWS the whiskey right into Carver's face!
(JB) Oh no. That's what Trevor Cunning calls "The Drunken Haze!" He just spewed booze into the eyes of Diamond Del Carver! Carver is a recovering alcoholic, on the wagon! That has to be the ultimate insult!
(Tom) Look at the expression on Del Carver's face!
For a long second, Diamond Del Carver just stands there, an incredulous expression on his face as booze drips down. Trevor Cunning stands in front of him, sneering and laughing. Cunning starts to walk back and forth in front of Carver, pretending he is using a walker. Del Carver looks at Cunning, and then reaches out, grabs Cunning by the back of the head, rears back and absolutely hammers Cunning across the bridge of the nose with a headbutt! The crack sound of Carver's skull colliding with Cunning's nose can actually be heard throughout the arena! Cunning's nose starts to spurt blood, and Diamond Del Carver backs up, bounces off the ropes, and then smashes Trevor Cunning with a lariat, sending him flying over the top rope to the outside! Cunning lands on the concrete, and Diamond Del Carver grabs the top rope, and slingshots himself over, landing on top of Cunning on the outside! The fans are going bonkers, as Diamond Del Carver gets up, pulls Trevor Cunning to his feet, and Irish Whips him into the steel steps...sending them flying! Carver limps over to where Cunning landed, pulls him to his feet again, and then runs him headfirst into the steel ring post, sending Cunning's skull bouncing off the steel! Blood is now gushing from Cunning's nose. Diamond Del Carver rolls Trevor Cunning back into the ring, and rolls in himself. Carver stands over the bleeding Cunning, and lifts his arms over his head, to the cheers of the fans. Carver then grabs Cunning and places him into a position famous to most wrestling shut-in’s across the globe.
(Tom) Hey Mann-Wagon, that kind of looks like what I did to your mom last night. Nyeh!
(JB) Ignorant piggotry aside, the Diamond Driver could be the end of Trevor Cunning!
(Tom) He’s actually going to go for some kind of move? I thought he was just demonstrating his fine knowledge of the Kama Sutra! Let go of that young child before you hurt him old man!
(JB) Diamond Del Carver is mere moments away from his first victory in the NAFW!
And then Trevor Cunning punches him in the balls.
(Tom) Yep. It’s exactly what I did with your mother last night.
(JB) A blatant low blow! Disqualify him!
(Tom) Right to Del’s diamonds! Just the way I like to see it!
Carver crumples to the mat, cradling the Carver clan’s family jewels. Cunning begins crawling towards his corner, pulling at the mat, fingernails scraping the canvas. He reaches out and grabs the bottle of Jack Daniels he brought to ringside.
(Tom) Keith Owens might not be of much help, but Jack Daniels sure will be!
(JB) He better not do what I think he’s going to!
Cunning opens the bottle and begins taking a deep gulp.
(Tom) Why do I hear the Popeye music?
(JB) Because you were dropped on your head as a child and suffered permanent brain damage as a result?
(Tom) No, that’s why I involuntary the theme to “Small Wonder” every time I or…
(JB) Go to hell!
Invigorated, Cunning stands, using the top ropes to pull himself to a vertical base.
(JB) He still has that damn bottle!
(Tom) It’s not like he’s going to use it, Mann-wheel. He’s just going to have a drink while he kicks Carver’s ass.
The referee reaches for the bottle, trying to rip it from Cunning’s grasp. Cunning shoves his way past Elbourn and swings wildly at Carver, connecting with a shot straight to the grizzled veteran’s skull.
The crowd goes OoooooooooooHHHHHHHhhhhhh! as glass sprays across the ring. Our referee immediately calls for the bell.
(JB) That son of a bitch! Trevor Cunning knew he couldn’t beat Del Carver, so he took the easy way out!
(Tom) He was just trying to share, Mann-Wagon. Carver’s a self-professed drunk himself!
(Troy) Ladies and Gentlemen...your winner of this match, as a result of a DISQUALIFICATION... Diamond Del Carver!
Cunning mounts Carver and begins punching him in the skull, further opening the cut caused by the broken glass. When the ref attempts to pull Cunning off of his opponent, Cunning tosses him from the ring, sending him through the ropes to the floor.
Cunning asks for a mic.
(Trevor) Hey, Keith, now that the match is over... why don’t you come out here for a minute?
Cue “It’s All About the Benjamins” and the arrival of our uncrowned Foundation Heavyweight Champion. Owens has before him a dolly containing one full keg of beer. He wheels it to the ring as Cunning continues the assault on Carver, laying into him with heavy stomps and right hands to the skull.
To his credit, Del Carver tries to fight back, but the damage has been done. His eye is full of blood, and he may very well have a concussion.
(Trevor) It’s time to celebrate Del Carver’s arrival!
Thump goes the microphone again, bouncing off Del's skull.
(Trevor) And what better way to celebrate Delroy’s first victory than with a beer bash?
(JB) What does he mean by a beer bash?
(Tom) Simple. They’re going to drink to his health!
(JB) They need a whole keg for that?
(Tom) Cunning’s built up quite a tolerance, Mann-bear-pig!
Owens rolls the keg under the bottom rope into Cunning’s hands. Trevor places the keg in the corner and waits for Keith, who, once situated inside the ring, pulls Del Carver into position and hits a beautiful Difference Maker. He then drags Carver as close to the corner as possible.
(JB) Keith Owens is going to pay for this! Trevor Cunning is going to pay for this!
(Tom) Well, they do have the money!
Owens holds Carver’s legs as Cunning begins climbing the ropes. He sits on the top rope and lifts the keg into his arms.
(Trevor) A toast! To Diamond Delroy’s health and success!
Cunning drops the full keg right across Del Carver’s chest. It lands with a sickening thud and rolls off towards the opposite side of the ring.
(JB) That could have killed Del Carver!
(Tom) He should have known better than to mess with the Trust Fund Kids, Mann-Wagon!
(JB) All he did was stake a rightful claim to Ultimate Showdown, and now he might have broken ribs!
(Tom) Sometimes, that’s all it takes.
Owens looks at Cunning, still sitting on the top rope, and the pair begin nodding their heads. As Cunning begins making the international symbol for “let’s drop this heavy object for a second time,” Keith rolls the keg back towards the corner.
The crowd pops. Wait… the crowd is actually popping?
(Tom) See that Mann-Wheel... the fans don't want Carver here either.
(JB) Take a look, Bear.
(Tom) Ah, crap.
(JB) Looks like the Trust is about to be bankrupted! It’s Jaime Alejandro!
Alejandro begins sprinting down the ramp, steel chair in hand. While the TFK may still have a 2 on 1 advantage, the international rules of Professional Wrestling dictate that one pissed off face with a foreign object trumps two supremely talented, very, ridiculously good looking heels any day of the week.
Goddamn science.
(Tom) What right does Alejandro have to be here?
(JB) Del Carver is one of Jaime Alejandro’s heroes!
Cunning and Owens bail as Alejandro slides into the ring. He begins checking on his boyhood hero and second round opponent, now a bloody broken mess, and slams the chair down on the mat. He grabs the keg and tosses it at the Trust Fund Kids, but it barely makes it past the mats to the ramp, landing with a loud, reverberant clang.
(JB) Thank God for Jaime Alejandro! Truly the man is a saint!
(Tom) Patron saint of psychopaths!
(JB) The Trust Fund Kids have done their damage however! Will Del Carver even be able to continue competing in Ultimate Showdown? In the NAFW?
(Tom) Let me guess…
(JB) We’ll find out next week! Good night folks!
