The screen fades to pitch black, and a guitar riff begins to be shred in the background. It’s the opening to “Assassin” by Muse which is also known as Annihilation’s official new theme song.
At the same time a countdown appears on screen.
At the same time a countdown appears on screen.
0:15… 0:14… 0:13… 0:12…
The guitar riff is playing over this countdown.
0:03… 0:02… 0:01… 0:00…
When the countdown reaches zero, there’s a pause, and then the rest of the hard hitting instruments kick in.
The standard fast pace hard hitting action clips are shown as the song plays on, bulding up to a giant drum roll where the intro video ends and we flash to the Annihilation logo.
ON
Cue the huge boom of the indoor pyrotechnics display.
BOOM!
BOOM!!
BOOM!!!
After the pyro the camera pans around the crowd in the Pengrowth Saddledome in Calgary, Alberta, Canada, where the fans are going wild for the start of Annihilation.
(JB) Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to yet another stellar edition of NAFW Annihilation from the Pengrowth Saddledome in Calgary, Alberta, Canada.
(Tom) Yeah, usually this would be the bit where JB would run down the card and make everybody fall asleep, but check out the excitement in the ring!
(JB) While Tom may have exaggerated my announcer voice, he is right about the fact that two VERY combustible elements are already in the middle of the ring, which was not what is on my schedule as we were told Commissioner Buchanan was going to open the show. But rumors have been circulating over the past week about who the true number one contender to the Foundation Heavyweight Championship was after last week’s match went to a no decision.
Who Is The Number One Contender?
The cameras pan away from the announcer desk towards the middle of the ring where, mere inches from one another, stand Tyrone Smith and Aleister Essex.
(Tom) The tension between these two definitely beats any of the undercard matches we've got on tap tonight.
(JB) Don't say that! We have an invaluable number of matches tonight, and the ceaseless chaos surrounding these two men is prevent us from starting the night off right!
(Tom) If there's anything I know, JB, it's how to start a good night. And if there's another thing I know...
(JB) Lemme guess, it's how to finish one with my mother, right?
(Tom) You are sick! I was going to say origami paper cranes, but forget that now...
(JB) ...Forget about it, it looks like Essex is going to speak.
Raising the microphone in his hand to speak without taking his eyes off of Tyrone Smith, Aleister Essex shows no signs of concern about his impending match later on tonight.
(Essex) Tyrone Smith – You incessant thorn in my side.
Like a disgusting scab I keep picking off week after week, you just seem to come back every single time; each time a little more fresh for the peeling.
(Tom) Yum... "fresh for the peeling"... Definitely feeling that panini rising up in my gut.
(JB) Hey, I thought you bragged about having a strong constitution.
(Tom) I used to, but then I found out what you came out of, and my world's never been the same!
(JB) ...You are deplorable.
(Essex) You are an insignificant scab that just gets obliterated time after time after time. Yet you come back, and you manage to find new and more insufferable means to annoy me TO NO CONCEIVABLE END.
Essex's frustrated outburst draws a smile from Tyrone's pursed lips.
(Essex) But this time... This time you antagonizing fool... This time... You gave me exactly what I wanted.
(JB) What? What the heck is Essex going on about?
(Tom) You take over for a second, I'm still feeling nauseous...
(Essex) This time you gave me JUST cause to declare Hush the NUMBER ONE CONTENDER!!!
Monkeys in the back, ROLL THE FOOTAGE!!!
(JB) WHAT?
Essex wildly turns his attention towards the back and to the Jumbotron as video footage detailing last week's main event is shown to all:
Midway through the match, Hush reaches over the ropes and pulls both Mike Stryker and Tyrone SMith to the apron by the hair. As he drags them both into the ring, both men have the same idea as they land dueling kicks to Hush’s midsection. Smith lands a perfect standing dropkick to Hush, backing him up, and Stryker is right on his heels with a clothesline that sends Hush up and over the ropes.
As the footage ends and freezes on the frame of Stryker and Smith kicking Hush's gut, the crowd at ringside cheers wildly at Smith, but Essex takes little notice as he continues his rant.
(Essex) There you have it, folks! Tyrone Smith and Mike Stryker CONSPIRED to take out my monster, and in the process, disqualified Smith from the Number One Contendership match.
Thus establishing Hush as the LEGITIMATE Number One Contender!
(JB) This is outrageous! Who does Essex think he is making outlandish claims like this!
(Tom) Well, it's not any less logical than asking "who do you think you are, calling a professional wrestling match!?"
(JB) Let's not talk about what kinds of questions YOU get asked, Tom.
(Tom) The only question I ever get asked is "Can I get your number?"
(Essex) So, Smith... That just begs the question of why are you even out here? You're not scheduled for a match with a volleyball, nor some other idiotic curtain-jerking comedy match. I see that the cameras are working quite nicely, and lord knows that hell would freeze over first before someone like YOU were allowed to share the glorious spotlight with someone like myself...
A conundrum indeed...
As Essex strokes his chin in a mockingly pensive manner, Tyrone Smith looks as if he is about 10 seconds away from separating Essex's head from his shoulders. But before Smith can react, Essex snaps his fingers and looks as if he's stumbled upon a discovery.
(Essex) So this must mean you have come out here to do the right thing and give up!
It all makes sense now! You're here to officially submit to the clearly obvious ruling and step aside, as you have done countless times in your mediocre, insignificant career, and allow the legitimate Number One Contender, Hush, to take his rightful place? Correct?
Well, of course I'm correct! But enough of that, here, Tyrone, take this microphone and do the right thing!
As if presented with a golden opportunity, Smith's physical expression changes, and looks at the roaring crowd for a sign as to what to say.
Tyrone stares at Essex as he brings the microphone up from his side, a small smirk appearing on his face. He sighs and shakes his head as he brings the microphone up to his face.
(Tyrone) Well Essex, you are right about one thing. Stryker DID IN FACT interfere with the match and helped me bring down your "monster," Hush. But that was after he had enough of YOU interfering with the match and after you came into the ring with intentions to cane me. So in all actuality, Hush is NOT the #1 contender for the Foundation Heavyweight Championship....
I AM!
That gets a pop from the fans.
(Tyrone) Anyway you slice it, I am going to go to Breaking Point the #1 contender to face Mike Stryker. All I have to do is wait for the official announcement from Mr. Buchanan and I will be in the Main Event for a shot at the Foundation Heavyweight Championship, while you and your So-Called Monster be thrown to the curb, while I excel to my greatest plateau, while you two wonder what the HELL happened.
That gets Essex riled up a little bit as Tyrone paces around the ring, like a trapped dog, hungry and waiting for the right moment to attack.
(Tyrone) You are right about another thing too, Essex. I have become a invariable thorn in your side. A "scab" as you put it. Well the more you pick at a scab, the more it comes back. As long as you mess with it or pick at it, it will never go away. I will never go away, Essex. Your monster and you are going to have to put up with me for a very long time. I will NEVER EVER go down. THE NEXT TIME you see me, Essex, I will be the Foundation Heavyweight Champion. And there is NOTHING you or Hush can do about it.
That gets Essex pretty steamed as he goes face to face with Tyrone. An inaudible bickering contest ensues.
(JB) Where is Ray Buchanan? Neither of these men have any business being out here!! Someone needs to settle this!!
No sooner are the words spoken than someone, indeed, is coming out to settle this.
It is not Ray Buchanan….but the music should clue you in.
“’Til I Collapse” by Eminem begins to thump its opening through the arena as the crowd leaves it’s feet and roars it’s approval.
(Tom) Oh, great, the voice of reason is here.
(JB) Call him whatever you want Bear, just be sure you call him the Foundation Heavyweight Champion.
The crowd keeps it up as the song kicks into gear, then raises it a whole bunch of notches as Mike Stryker comes walking out of the back, Foundation Title belt slung over his right shoulder. He’s got a microphone in his hand and is doing absolutely none of his normal playing to the crowd. In fact, he’s walking to the ring with what you might call a purpose.
(JB) Stryker looks as though, whatever he wants out here, he wants to done ASAP.
(Tom) Thank God, let’s get this over with.
Stryker gets to the ring and rolls right under the bottom rope, popping to his feet and staring down both his longtime rival and his side’s biggest thorn. As the crowd keeps cheering, he doesn’t give them a chance to even settle down as he starts in.
(Stryker) You know….maybe it’s on me, all of this. Maybe, just maybe, I brought this onto myself. Ever since I won this title, maybe I let my own foot off the gas. Sure I’ve been celebrating, and yeah, maybe I’ve had a little bit of an extra smile on my face as I’m walking around backstage. Over the past 2 weeks, I’ve been sitting back on my heels just a little bit…and maybe this whole situation is on me.
Fact is that it seems like everyone’s so hell bent on arguing about who gets a crack at this title, none of you have stopped to think about exactly what that would mean. Bottom line, say whatever you want. Tyrone…you can say how it’s becoming your time, how you’ve been my biggest and toughest rival ever since you and I debuted here. Essex, you can run your trap all night about how dominant your monster is. But in the end, whichever one of you gets the best of this little pinch fight, you’re going to be winning the worst sweepstakes prize ever to exist. You’ll be winning a date to walk yourself into this ring, and face off against the best in this business.
Pop.
(Stryker) You’ll be facing off against the Foundation Heavyweight Champion
Bigger Pop.
(Stryker) You’ll be facing off against The Big City Hitman…Mike…effing….Stryker
Biggest Pop.
Stryker gives it a couple seconds to let his message sink in on both men in the ring as he continues.
(Stryker) Well boys, I have some good news for all of you. I have some good news for you, Tyrone…some good news for you, Aleister….and its even good news for Ray Buchanan. See, I’ve gone ahead and solved this whole little “which one of you deserves a crack at my foundation title” fiasco you’ve created. See…I don’t think that you should have the chance to go one on one with me, Tyrone.
The crowd boos as Smith stares down Stryker with a certain “how dare you” vibe coming from his eyes.
(Stryker) And I also don’t think that your monster should have the chance to go one on one with me, Aleister.
Essex looks at Stryker, fuming over the idea that Hush is not worthy of a title shot.
(Stryker) No no…I don’t want to face either one of you at Breaking Point. So I guess that means I only have one choice…
I’ll just go ahead and face you both!!!
The crowd explodes in cheers as Stryker drops the microphone and holds his belt up high. As all 3 men stand in the ring, Ray Buchanan emerges from the back holding a microphone in one hand and a clipboard in the other. He walks to the ring as he speaks to everyone there.
(Buchanan) Gentlemen, I have something here that I think will interest all of you. Earlier today, Mike Stryker came to my office privately and requested that I draw up a contract for Breaking Point, a contract for a triple threat match. Because he seemed to be all for the idea of facing both Tyrone Smith and Hush at the same time, I decided I’d take him up on his offer. I already have Stryker’s signature on this contract, and I’m demanding that both of you sign this right now.
Buchanan gets into the ring as Smith and Essex are both licking their chops, dying to sign.
(Buchanan) However you should all know one thing. I decided to add one stipulation in here that affects each one of you. It’s no secret that the three of you want to do more than wrestle. The three of you want to maim each other. While I’m all for spirited competition, I can’t risk my main event with you three attacking each other. So, here’s how it goes. Other than your match tonight, and your match at Breaking Point, there will be no physical contact between the three men in the match, or you Essex. If any of you engage in attacking anyone else, you’ll be removed from the match, and Stryker, in your case, you’ll be stripped of your Foundation Championship.
Stryker adjusts his title belt, almost holding it closer at the thought of it being taken away. The crowd boos the thought in unison.
(Buchanan) Now, gentlemen…I need your signatures on this contract immediately.
Smith is the first to step up and sign, with Essex hot on his heels to sign as well.
(Buchanan) Folks, there you have it!!! The main event of Breaking Point is set!!! Hush, Tyrone Smith, and Mike Stryker will face off in a triple threat match for the Foundation Heavyweight Championship!!!
The crowd cheers as all three men stare at each other, the rules clearly stated.
(JB) All three men have to keep their hands off each other or else they lose their shot!!
Stryker backs himself up the ramp as he holds up his Foundation Championship, staring both men down, as we fade to commercial.
COMMERCIAL
The following advertisement is paid for by the Stephen Owens Presidential Campaign:
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Sick of being double crossed by your elected officials?
Do you want to see pork barreling counted out?
Then its time to crown a new champion!
Vote for Stephen Owens to be your next President of the United States in 2008!
"I am Stephen Owens, and I approve of this message."
Which Way To Call It?
As we fade into the interview area backstage, we find veteran backstage announcer John Mills standing with a microphone in hand against a backdrop of crimson red and a large flat screen high-def monitor with the Annihilation logo and NAFW transferring in and out.
(John) Ladies and gentlemen, I am here with the NAFW Tag Team Champions – The Trust Fund Kids. Keith Owens, Trevor Cunning, thank you for joining me this evening.
The camera pans back to reveal the Tag Team Champions in their referee attire. For Keith, it is a simple referee shirt – a standard issue that everyone from Walt Mason to Richie Howard wears. For Trevor Cunning, it is a custom referee polo shirt with a black collar, popped no less. Underneath that lies a second polo shirt, with a white popped collar. Owens wears his championship belt strapped around his waist, while Cunning has unpolished title over his shoulder.
The two say nothing in response to John Mills' introduction of them.
(John) Before I talk to the two of you about your roles on Annihilation tonight, I want to ask you a question Keith. Last week, you were spotted in the parking lot delivering a package of some sort to a man that we now know is Jack Henderson, a one time wrestler for the independent organization Legacy. What exactly is the nature of your involvement with Jack Henderson, and does it have to do with the threats you've reported receiving in the mail?
Keith does not look pleased at the way Mills has begun this interview.
(Keith) John, the only thing I'm going to say is this: Jack Henderson is more than just a wrestler, and the nature of our interactions is private, and none of your damn concern.
Mills chokes up a bit after hearing Keith's response and seeing his unhappy glare.
(John) Very well then. Personal issues aside, you two have been put in an interesting position tonight. Two weeks ago, the Goods and the Old School Empire got into a confrontation over who should be the number one contender to your titles. The next week during their number one contender match, they ended up with a double pin fall. To rectify the situation tonight, Commissioner Buchanan assigned Keith to referee a match between the Goods, and Trevor to referee a match between the Empire. The power to decide the winners is in your hands – so will there be any kind of strategy?
Keith is about to answer when Cunning pushes in and begins to answer the question instead.
(Trevor) Come on, Mills – Do you have any idea who you're talking to? You're talking to the Trust Fund Kids. Two former Foundation Heavyweight Champions. When people name the greatest tag teams in the Foundation's history, they'll name the Summers brothers, Mystic and Toilet Duck, Social Disorder, Stud Muffan and VCR, and Cruel Intentions. But right there on top of that list you’ll find us: The Trust Fund Kids.
So to answer your question, Johnny - Of course the greatest tag team in NAFW history has a strategy.
Trevor pauses and Keith looks some what confused and taken back by Trevor's last comment.
(Trevor) The plan is simple enough that even these idiot Canucks can understand it. We make sure Slush wins the match between the Goods, and that Dustin squeaks out a victory against his big brother. Ammo, Shane – You might as well not even bother showing up tonight. You've got about as much of a chance of winning as a beer in my hand does of staying full.
Keith now steps up and pushes the mic in John Mills' hand from Trevor over to him.
(Keith) Wait a minute Trev, I don't remember discussing any of this.
(Trevor) Why would we discuss it Keith? We’re on the same page, right?
Owens just looks away, visibly frustrated.
(Trevor) See Johnny – this is so simple, we didn't even need to talk about it. Screw “the bigger they are, the harder they fall.”
The logic is simple – Dustin and Slush are small, weak, and pathetic. At Chain Reaction, we defeated both teams going at full force. At Breaking Point, we're going to dominate the runts of the litter, and at the end of the night, the Goods and the Old School Empire will be nothing but a memory – a failed experiment. In fact, I think Ammo and Shane better start thinking of a new team name if they want any future after we flush their partners' careers down the toilet.
Keith shakes his head and is clearly in disagreement with his partner's strategery.
(Keith) I don't know where you got the idea, but I don't think we need to go out of our way to try and rig the match for Breaking Point. We've already got the advantage: We've beaten both teams before, and whoever makes it to the match at Breaking Point will have a hard enough time working with their partner.
Cunning is quick to butt back in.
(Trevor) Yeah, well then what's wrong with a little insurance? What's wrong with stacking the deck in our favor – lining up the shots before we knock ‘em back? Don't you want to guarantee that we walk into Oblivion with the tag team titles? You go by the Difference Maker.
So help me make a goddamn difference.
(Keith) You know what Trev – you can do whatever you want, but I've got bigger problems to worry about than Slush or Ammo making it to Breaking Point. As long as both of them stay out of my face, I'll call it down the middle, and that'll be that. You can do whatever you want to those punks in the Empire, after all – we still owe them for the Jack Attacks - and we'll handle the rest at the Pay Per View.
Besides, we’re good enough that it shouldn’t make a difference who we face, should it?
You know what? I'm done here.
And with that, Keith pushes the microphone into Mills' chest and walks off the scene. Trevor turns in the direction Keith walked off in and begins yelling.
(Trevor) If the referee was supposed to call the match down the middle they'd have assigned frickin' Walt Mason to do it!
And after realizing Keith isn't listening to him, nor coming back to this interview, Cunning storms off the scene as well, leaving John Mills standing alone.
(John) Well, I guess that's all from the Trust Fund Kids. Back to you at ringside.
Cut.
(JB) Thanks for that John. We have reports that there is more stuff going on backstage. Let’s take a look right now.
I Have to Work With Him?!!
The camera pans in on an office inside the Pengrowth Saddledome. The sign on the door says it all. 'Ray Buchanan.' It shows two large men sitting on two comfortable chairs in front of the desk. Buchanan is looking dapper in his suit.
He stares at the two in front of him, his chosen participants to face off against Derek Clarke, with a look that tells them to pay attention.
(Buchanan) Gentlemen, you know why I have you here. After my webcast last week, I meant what I said. Either of you throw this match, walk out, or get disqualified, and I will not grant you the match at Breaking Point. On top of that, Mr. Gonzales will look at suspensions and fines for you two.
Ashley Collier straightened himself up, almost insulted that the notion was even brought up.
(Ashley) So, if I don't work with this old man and beat up your whipping boy, I lose the PPV shot and lose my check.
Buchanan focuses his attention on telling Collier what he really thinks of him, but decides against it. Instead...
(Buchanan) You're lucky, Mr. Collier, that he's not looking to fire you, either. Your stunts have us paying out Sebastian Hawke in order to avoid action from the NAACP and other groups who want to hang you out to dry. Be lucky the National Organization for La Raza isn't also joining the fight after your comments.
(Ashley) Not my fault that Hawke can't take a [beep]ing joke...
At this moment, Jaime held up his hand and cleared his throat.
(Jaime) Do you ever listen to yourself talk, vato... You sound like a complete and constant spokesperson on eugenics. You know, the primary reason for genetic selection. So we can avoid morons like you.
Buchanan looked up at Jaime. He was amazed when he heard Jaime even talk. In fact, not many people have heard Jaime talk in an actual conversation.
(Buchanan) Very enlightening, James. However, the same rules apply for you, sir. I know about your temper. Fist fight with the Intruder. Breaking a glass bowl over Cunning. Backstage attacks on Owens. You're a loose cannon, when you want to be. I don't want you to be. You're a veteran of this sport. Act like it like you have been, and we'll have no problems.
(Ashley) Him, act like a professional. Ha! And you say I've got problems.
Jaime turns his head around and stares directly at the man beside him, almost wanting to punch him and forfeit his check for a month.
(Jaime) You do, Ashley. It's mainly your damn mouth. Oh, and your proctologist called, they found your head...
As he says that, the Mexican slowly gets up from his seat to walk out. However, he slowly turns around...
(Jaime) I know you and Clarke have issues, sir. I'd rather not care about them. But you and Cougar booked me into this match. And I am a professional, unlike other people in this room. If you'll excuse me, I have a match to prepare for.
Collier turns around, as Jaime leaves. He's got an expression on his face that says it all...
(Ashley) That [BEEP]ING GREASER...
(Buchanan) Ashley... Leave. Now.
Ashley just stands up from his seat and looks at the man in charge. To put it mildly, Ray Buchanan is not impressed with Ashley Collier.
Collier slowly walks out of the room without saying a word. Buchanan moves over and starts typing on his laptop, as he sees Collier leave.
Cut.
"The Reaper" Leonard Aarons vs. Masato Kojima
(JB) Well, we've already got Masato Kojima in the ring for our opening bout. We don't know a whole lot about this guy other than he's from Tokyo, Japan.
(Tom) Well, that's why I'm here. He's from that organization Aarons was wrestling in overseas, that MJPW place. He's 6'2'', 230 pounds. He...
A rather sinister giggle of the female variety cuts Tom off as "Whatcha Waiting For" by Gwen Stefani kicks up throughout the Saddledome's speakers. As the arena gets flooded with crimson and purple lights, "Vivacious" Vanessa Chamberlain makes her way from the Cougar Position in an old school Flames jersey and some nice hip hugging jeans. She walks down the aisle to a mixed reaction, although this week there are significantly more cheers than the previous weeks she has been seen. Amazing what taking a fireball to the face can do to the public's perception of you.
(JB) It looks like we've got company in the form of Vanessa Chamberlain. This is only the second time since Chain Reaction that we've seen her. Of course last time on Annihilation, she told the world and specifically Heatwave that it is far from over between those two.
(Tom) Yeah, while I was glad to see her pretty face back, I hated that she had to deliver that news to Heatwave.
(JB) And at Breaking Point, we're going to have only the second Doddtown Street Fight in NAFW history as Heatwave will go one on one with the man who broke his wife's neck. Illtown Leonard Aarons.
As JB updates us, we see the graphic appear on the screen so that those of you without audio can see what's going on.
(JB) I'm also getting word that Amie's in the back with the man who will be out in just a matter of moments, "The Reaper" Leonard Aarons. Amie?
Amie on cue, is standing next to the 'Devastator From Doddtown' and former Foundation Heavyweight Champion Leonard Aarons. He's clad in a pair of jeans and a muscle shirt which has his infamous bloody Lion's head logo on it. He's got his Lendo Stick clasped in his right hand and as you can guess, he's not exactly smiling at the moment. Amie is and so we begin...
(Amie) Leonard, tonight you go one on one with Masato Kojima and at Breaking Point, it will be you going one on one with...
(The Reaper) I'm sorry Amie, it won't actually be "me" so to speak. See, Heatwave wanted the bastard who broke his wife's neck and he's got him. So at Breaking Point, it will be Illtown making his NAFW debut against the soon to be Devastated Man From Miami, Heatwave.
(Amie) Okay, so what's the difference between you and Illtown?
This brings a small smile to Leonard's face.
(The Reaper) Take your worst nightmare, imagine every worst trait imaginable in a man and then multiply it by 300. Imagine this man with something of a King Kong complex in that he knows he's bad ass, knows he's better than you and even worse, knows you can't stop him from doing whatever he damn well pleases. Real scary isn't it?
Amie nods.
(The Reaper) Well that right there, isn't even CLOSE to scratching the surface as far as Illtown goes. At Breaking Point, the NAFW will bare witness to something that won't even be classified as criminal. That's why I made it a Doddtown Street Fight. Because simply put, I'm not trying to have this thing end three seconds in because I was too brutal. Too vicious.
He looks into the camera with an intense glare in his eyes, his tone picks up a few notches.
(The Reaper) Heatwave, you're going to understand why I asked you so nicely to let this go before. Because at Breaking Point, when you're carted out and your wife's left crying over your mangled body, you'll understand I was right. Your Devastation will be legendary boi...even in the dark annals of Doddtown. And of course, if you don't believe me, just watch this.
With that, he walks off towards the Cougar Position as we send it back to ringside. As we go back to ringside, we see that Vanessa has taken her seat next to Tom who couldn't be happier to have the busty beauty sitting right next to him. Vanessa has her hair tied back into a ponytail, as she shakes JB's hand and passes on doing the same with Tom.
(JB) Well, we're joined by Vanessa Chamberlain who's going to join us for...
(Vanessa) I think the public at home can safely assume that I'm not out here for the hell of it.
(Tom) So why exactly are you out here?
(Vanessa) Because I think all of you need to understand what's going to happen at Breaking Point and more specifically what's about to happen...
"The only thing to fear...is fear...HIMSELF!"
The not so friendly tone of Freddy turns out the lights as we hear the infamous roar of the lion followed by the sharpening of that razor glove most familiar with those who have seen any of the Nightmare On Elm Street sagas as it were. We get three huge pyro explosions as "Go To Sleep" by Eminem, DMX & Obie Trice blasts over the loudspeakers. The fans in the arena pop loud and proud for the return of The Reaper as he appears through the fog filled entranceway. He stops a few feet short of the entranceway as the NAFWtron runs his highlight reel which ironically enough has some highlight kills from the Springwood Slasher. He raises that Lendo Stick high in the air as it triggers gold pyro from both sides of the entranceway before heading down the aisle with a serious look on his face.
(Troy) From East Orange, New Jersey...he weighs in at TWO HUNDRED AND EIGHTY-SIX POUNDS!!! He is The Reaper! LEOOONNNN-AAARRRDDDD!!! AAAAARRRR-OOONNNSSSS!
Aarons slides into the ring and before the ref can even ring the bell, he blasts Kojima in the face with the Lendo Stick. The lights come back up in a hurry as Troy doesn't even have time to belch out Masato's name and what not. Aarons continues to blast Masato in the face repeatedly with that barb wire kendo stick, as the ref is trying his best to get him to let it go. The Reaper's not even hearing a word of it, as he drops down and presses it against the forehead of Masato busting him open quick fast and in a hurry. He jumps to his feet, getting in the ref's face and flips him off before drilling Masato one more time as he flings the Stick over the top towards the announce position where Vanessa snares it.
(JB) What the...what was that?
(Vanessa) That was Leonard showing Heatwave a small sliver of what he has to look forward to.
(Tom) How is that not a disqualification?
(Vanessa) Referee never rung the bell. Oh, now L's gonna get the ref to ring the bell.
(JB) It looks like albeit against his better judgment, Masato's not giving any sign that he wants this thrown out.
(Tom) Me thinks he's gonna wish he did looking at Leonard's kisser right now.
DING DING DING!!!
(JB) Here we go and look out! Garden State Pounce by Aarons into the ribs of Kojima! He is showing a rather nastier side of him that we haven't seen in quite some time.
(Vanessa) Allow me to be a bit more specific. None of you have ever seen this. Because none of you have any comprehension of what this man is truly capable of.
(Tom) So this is what you've been trying to get out of him all this time?
(Vanessa) Oh no. I never wanted THIS. Not even L wanted this, as he tried to convey to Heatwave to no avail. But some people don't listen, so at Breaking Point, he's gonna learn the hard way.
(JB) Kojima's in a bad way right now, on the receiving end of brutal elbows to the face by Aarons who has him mounted and good grief, Kojima's fighting for his life right now.
(Tom) Hope he has a will made out before hand, I think he might be shipped back to Japan on a gurney.
Aarons finally hops off of him and starts stomping away at those ribs, forcing Kojima to roll outside for safety. Unfortunately for him, the ref cannot stop Aarons from following him, as Kojima is crawling around in front of the announce position only to see Aarons is directly on top of him. He gets pulled up by Aarons who flashes a smirk at Chamberlain before hitting a spin and connecting with a Roaring Elbow to Kojima's face. He stares downward as the fans are something between rather happy to see Aarons back in action or mortified by the brutality they're seeing. Just before Tom can get a quip out, he's interrupted by Aarons snatching his headset off of his skull as he puts it on his own as he sits on the announce table directly in front of Tom.
(JB) Looks like we're joined here by the...
(The Reaper) Shut your hole JB. Allow me. Right now, you're being joined by the Most Devastating Man in the NAFW today. Who's going to give you a running commentary on what we're seeing right now. And what you're seeing right now is some poor Jap who shouldn't have taken this match to begin with, getting bodily fluids he never knew he had knocked out of him by me.
(JB) What about Breaking Point?
(The Reaper) Breaking Point? Oh, you mean when the world bares witness to the single most brutal beatdown in the recorded history of the NAFW? Let me tell ya something Heatwave, or should I call him Illtown Junior? I mean, Vanessa, name one person you know that's come out to 50 Cent in your lifetime.
(Vanessa) That would be you.
(The Reaper) Name one person you know of that has taken pride in ruining the lives of others, just for the hell of it .
(Vanessa) You again.
(The Reaper) See JB, Heatwave's about to realize that there's nothing like the genuine article. That nobody does it better than the Lenuine Article and if you doubt that, watch this.
He drops the headset and hops off the table, yanking Masato to his feet and dragging him by his head. As Tom puts his headset back on, Aarons slides Masato back inside the ring just long enough to break the referee's ten count only to yank him right back out. Aarons drags him over to the French announce table causing them to scatter, as he throws Masato on top. Aarons hops up, standing tall as Masato struggles to pull himself up. Aarons simply strikes his trademark pose as Kojima is using Aarons to pull himself up. Unfortunately for him, Aarons has stuffed him in between his legs and hooked both arms.
(Vanessa) Time for Masato to hear The Reaper's Gospel, formerly known as the Injection of Greatness.
(JB) Oh come on, enough's e...
SKRASH!!!
HOLY (BLEEP!) HOLY (BLEEP!) HOLY (BLEEP!)
The table's shattered, Masato's face has been driven through the announce position and Aarons remains in a kneeled position, flashing a rather demonic looking smirk as Vanessa simply looks on not really showing any emotion at all.
(Tom) Scratch that gurney, I think Masato's going to need a box.
(JB) What is the meaning of this? Why is he going to such great lengths to punish this guy who has nothing to do with his thing with Heatwave?
(Vanessa) Same reason Heatwave broke Lorenzo's ankle and Charlene's neck. He's here. My mom always told me innocent bystanders get it the worst and since L can't wait until Breaking Point, he's taking his frustration out on Masato here.
(Tom) Lest we not forget the fact that Aarons is here without the Foundation Heavyweight Title. Stupid Stryker had to go and win...
(Vanessa) Quit brown nosing. I know you were adamantly against The Reaper being champion to begin with. You need not worry though, once L's finalized matters with Heatwave, that's next on the agenda.
(JB) You speaking for him now?
Almost as if he has heard every word, maybe because he's standing a few feet away from them, he snarls. He remembers how he lost the title and simply put, until it was brought up, he hadn't thought a second about it. But now, that psychotic look is back in his eyes as he snatches Kojima up on his shoulders for what looks like The Reaper's Wrath. He walks over towards the ring post, just sneering as he throws Kojima into it with his knee catching the brunt of it. Not the least bit happy with that, he does it two more times, before finally rolling Kojima back into the ring. The ref not wanting to incur The Reaper's wrath so to speak, is letting this go. How Kojima's still finding the energy to move, is anyone's guess at this point.
Aarons meanwhile is stalking Kojima, who's a bloody mess and is now operating with a bad wheel. That's not getting any better as Aarons does a small strut eventually stepping on the right ankle of Masato, before stomping on Masato's knee three times. The bloodthirsty fans in the audience are going wild over what they're seeing out of Aarons. Few are speechless at the brutality they're seeing. Aarons takes hold of that leg and starts kicking away at the kneecap, before he grabs onto the ankle and falls back with it.
(JB) Vicious move by Aarons as he hits a variation of the DDT that's focusing on that kneecap.
(Vanessa) Looks like ole Masato's gonna have great parking for the next few months.
(Tom) Masato's redder than a toe-mah-toe.
This gets a rather small chuckle out of Vanessa, as Aarons simply stands to his feet, shaking his head from side to side in a rather saddened fashion. He bends down, wrapping his right hand around the neck of Kojima as he brings him to his feet. He screams into Masato's bloodied face, before yanking him up into the air and holding him, as he yells Heatwave's name before spiking him into the mat rather forcefully.
(Tom) Wow. Not to state the obvious, but it's ball game kids.
(JB) Ya think?
Aarons pulls Masato up before wrapping his legs around his head, locking in a Triangle Choke or what has become known as the Gogoplatta.
(Vanessa) And that my friends, is The Reaper's Way. You can go ahead and call this one, because he's not getting out of it.
(JB) I don't think he'd be getting out of it even if he WANTED to at this point. The ref's ringing the bell and this one is FINALLY over.
(Tom) It was over the second Masato came out here. Vanessa, what have you done to this guy? Whatever it is, can ya do it for me so I can get rid of Mann-hole here and be a one man announce team?
(Vanessa) Nothing. Leonard and I merely had a talk and he came to the conclusion that things are gonna change.
(JB) Is this going to be the order of...he isn't letting go of that hold and Masato's coughing up blood! Those massive legs of Aarons are choking the life out of Kojima! Damnit, someone do something!
(Vanessa) There's nothing any of you can do. L's tried very hard to keep that inner demon within him at bay and Heatwave's done released it. L's done trying to be the nice guy and now, any who cross his path are gonna feel his wrath. He's done talking. He's done, period and at Breaking Point...
(Tom) HEATWAVE!!!
Sure enough, hopping over the barrier is Heatwave, with his customary black chair in hand. He starts towards the ring but notices Vanessa at the announce table. He starts towards her and this gets Leonard's attention as he releases Kojima and rolls outside. Heatwave though, sees this out of the corner of his eye and blasts Aarons in the skull dropping him to the floor. Vanessa has let her headset drop to the ground and hopped over the railing as she escapes through the crowd to avoid any possible acts of aggression by Heatwave.
Nicole Burbank has made her way through the crowd, tossing her man a pair of handcuffs as the boos are deafening. As Aarons tries to get to his feet, Heatwave turns Aarons around and blasts him square in the face with those handcuffs. He blasts him repeatedly until he's busted open and finally hops off, spitting on him. Nicole hands him a microphone as Heatwave looks down at the fallen Reaper who's now starting to bleed.
(Heatwave) Illtown Junior, huh? Yeah, real cute. At Breaking Point, I'm gonna take your ass behind the woodshed and leave you the same way you left my wife four years ago. Doddtown Street Fight, I will end you once and for all. So when you're left lying in a hospital, unable to remember what the (bleep) happened? Just remember...
He crouches down, hitting Aarons with the microphone as he smiles before saying...
(Heatwave) It was ME...BITCH.
He drops the microphone and strikes the infamous Reaper pose with three fingers extended on both hands as "I'll Still Kill" blares over the speakers. Heatwave and his wife leave laughing, while Masato is still lying in the ring a bloody mess. He hasn't moved since Aarons let him go and Aarons is stirring on the outside.
(JB) Good grief! Heatwave has sent a very powerful message to The Reaper before their street fight at Breaking Point. Aarons is bleeding, Masato's bloodied and unconscious in the ring and Heatwave has made his way up the ramp with his wife.
(Tom) Good! That'll teach Aarons to take my damn headset next time!
COMMERCIAL
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Then its time to crown a new champion!
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"I am Stephen Owens, and I approve of this message."
Friendly Competition
Welcome to The Goods' locker room. I know we're here a lot lately, but it just makes sense that wrestlers about to have a match will be in their locker room. So here we are again.
This time, we're here mere moments away from a rather interesting contest, pitting partners against one another for a chance to fight for the Tag Team Championships. Our cast consists of Slush, Ammo and Twitch. And if you count Blake Bouchard as one of the cast, he's there too, around Twitch's shoulders as usual.
(Twitch) So Flush! Twitch and Blake Bouchard had an idea.
Slush looks up at his manager, while off to the side, Ammo gives a grunt that is loosely translatable as "This should be good."
(Slush) I don't want to hear it.
(Twitch) Too bad! Twitch just can't not tell Flush! And it's about Jumbo, too!
(Ammo) Lovely.
Twitch smiles.
(Twitch) It is! Since Flush and Jumbo have to fight tonight, and there's only one Twitch...
(Slush) Thank goodness.
Twitch ignores the interruption.
(Twitch) Blake Bouchard suggested that Twitch can manage one of The Wares, while Blake is in the other's corner.
Silence. Slush and Ammo look at each other, then back at Twitch.
(Twitch) Well?
More silence. Finally, Slush shakes his head.
(Slush) There are no words.
Twitch smiles.
(Twitch) Twitch will take that as an "OK."
(Slush) You do that...
Twitch looks down to Blake, listening intently.
(Twitch) Blake says it's time for the match.
(Slush) I guess it is.
Slush and Ammo get up and head toward the door. Slush stops before they leave, and looks up at his partner, smiling.
(Slush) I'm treating this as friendly competition... But so you know: I don't plan on pulling any punches.
Ammo smiles.
(Ammo) Same here.
(Slush) Excellent. May the best man...
(Twitch) ... ager...
(Slush) ... win.
And we're out.
The Code
Jaime is slowly stretching in the main locker room with everyone gathered around him. He's mainly in the room with only his black track pants on. As he's loosening up, Amie Carmichael slowly approaches him.
(Amie) Jaime, a minute, sir?
He slowly looks up at the attractive lady in front of him, but doesn't change what he's doing.
(Jaime) Alright, Miss Carmichael. Got a few... Hope you don't mind that I'm working while you are.
Amie looks down at the large man, who's actually in a split legged position. Which yes, looks very painful.
(Amie) In your debut match, you took on Psycho, who looked to give you a bit of trouble. However, you came out on top with a move not seen in the States...
(Jaime) I'll give Psycho worlds of credit. He's missing a few brain cells. However, he's a good wrestler. And a very good worker. Ashley might discredit him all he wants, but he overestimates himself, Amie. Carlos Smith had his man ready for the match. Even if both are constant breakers of the code...
Amie looked at him, puzzled. Looking for an answer.
(Amie) The code?
(Jaime) We have a code of ethics. While we might beat each other up or attack each other. We... we don't try to kill each other. We don't try to cause harm outside of the locker room. We don't try to discredit race, creed or color. Hence why some have been shunned by the locker room, like Collier...
(Amie) That would be my next question. About Ashley Collier. You do have a match officially signed against him at Breaking Point. Yet, you have to work with him tonight, or else lose the match...
Jaime then stands up and starts stretching out his arms, to keep warming up.
(Jaime) Correct, Amie. I don't intend to do that, either. I've been in this business too long to let personal vendettas get in the way of business. Let's make it clear. I don't like Ashley Collier. I'm not going to pretend to. However, if my job and my match are on the line. I'm going to do what I'm needed to.
(Amie) From what you said when you came out and defeated Collier, about putting the locker room on notice...
He stops what he's going and looks right at her. Yet, not mad at her. More in the vein of making the further point.
(Jaime) This will be my 7th year in this business, Amie. I've been around since the long dead NWC, and went through that political mess. I won my titles at 27 and 28. You don't make claims that you don't think you can keep. They might not like what I had to say, but I've never been one to lie. And I'd like to see any of them stop me...
If you'll excuse me...
He slowly walks away to move to another part of the locker room to get ready for his match. Amie looks over and shakes her head.
Cut.
Slush vs. Ammo
Special Guest Referee: Keith Owens (TT)
(JB) Well Bear, as we saw moments ago, The Goods are treating this next contest as a friendly competition.
(Tom) And by that you mean that they're not taking it seriously.
(JB) I don't mean that at all. Both of these men want a shot at the Tag Team Championships, and that's what's at stake here tonight.
(Tom) And one of them will get that shot.
(JB) Indeed, it will only be one! At Breaking Point, the winner of this match will be partnered with a member of the Old School Empire to face the Trust Fund Kids.
(Tom) I know, Mannwheel.
(JB) I didn't say it for you, Bear. I said it for anyone who missed the announcement.
(Tom) I would have just let them figure it out for themselves.
(JB) And that's one of the many differences between us.
With that little bit of announcer banter overwith, let's get things going here. The lights cut out and the rapid chords and drums of "Riot" by Three Days Grace ring through the arena.
A red spotlight shines on the top of the stage, and three figures step out. In front are Slush and Ammo, in their dark red tights, both wearing fingerless gloves and black sunglasses. Behind them comes their manager Twitch, carrying Blake Bouchard over his shoulder.
(Troy) Introducing your competitors... First, from Toronto, Ontario, he weighs in at two hundred forty-three pounds... Slush!
As the music goes into the chorus, The Goods stalk down to the ring. Slush slides under the bottom rope, then Ammo pulls himself up onto the apron and steps over the top rope.
(Troy) And from London, Ontario, weighing in at three hundred sixty-one pounds... Ammo!
(JB) The Goods showing solidarity, coming down to the ring together despite separate introductions. They may be opponents tonight, but they're partners at heart!
The house lights come back up, as Slush and Ammo await the arrival of their referee. Meanwhile, Twitch apparently has some business to complete on the outside. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a coin. After exchanging a few words with his towel, Twitch flips the coin. Another few words later, Twitch lays Blake in the nearby corner and leaves the towel there. Twitch heads to the opposite side of the ring, and takes up his best "managerial" pose.
(Tom) What was that all about?
(JB) Twitch did say that he would manage one member of The Goods, while Blake was in the other's corner. I guess he just made that decision.
(Tom) Wonderful. So Ammo's manager is Twitch, and Slush gets a towel?
(JB) That appears to be the case.
(Tom) Slush got the better end of that deal.
The lights go out completely in the arena. After about one second, the opening riff of Spineshank’s “Fallback” are heard. The riff is quickly joined by the rest of the band as some small white lights around the balcony edges turn on. As the drums rapidly crescendo, the entrance ramp lights up with white lights starting from the bottom and working their way up to the very top.
(Troy) And the Special Guest Referee for this contest...
Keith Owens stands at the top of the ramp, wearing the traditional striped shirt, as well as his Championship belt strapped around his waist. As Spineshank continues to shred the intro of this song, Keith stands still with his hands around his waist, staring dead ahead at the ring. White and gold fireworks are shot straight up in the air to the left and right of him on the ramp with the pounding of the drums, ending with the fireworks doing a shower effect.
(Troy) He is one half of the Foundation Tag Team Champions... Keith Owens!
Keith begins to walk down the ramp, unstrapping his belt along that way. At the bottom of the ramp, Keith places the title belt on the apron under the bottom rope. He then puts a knee on the apron and pulls himself to a standing position and enters over the middle rope.
He doesn't show any flash or bravado in the ring as he simply nods to each member of The Goods, who have now separated to their individual corners.
(Tom) Can we get this thing going already?
(JB) Not until our referee calls for the bell, Bear.
As if on cue, Owens signals to the timekeeper and the bell is rung. Slush, still in his corner, cracks his knuckles. Meanwhile, Ammo cracks his neck as Twitch shouts random encouragement to his client. Owens points to the two of them, one with each hand, then toward the middle. The obvious message: Time to get going.
Slush and Ammo both step toward the middle of the ring, stopping a foot or so away from each other. They shake hands quickly, then back away again.
(Tom) Seriously, I'm going to fall asleep if they don't do something soon!
The Goods slowly circle one another for a moment, until Slush makes the first move. He rushes forward and baseball slides between Ammo's legs. Ammo starts to turn, but isn't fast enough, as Slush connects with a chop block. It puts Ammo slightly off-balance, but doesn't knock the big man down. Slush goes for another quick chop block, but it still doesn't take Ammo off his feet.
(JB) Sound strategy by Slush, trying to get Ammo down on the ground.
(Tom) Still bored over here.
Slush switches tactics, getting up to his feet and running to the far ropes. He bounces off and comes straight back at Ammo. Slush connects with a clothesline which has absolutely no effect on his partner. Ammo, literally, shrugs it off.
(JB) Do you want me to call Twitch over to take your place while you go for a nap?
(Tom) No! I don't want that idiot anywhere near me.
(JB) Then do your job!
Slush retreats and attempts a repeat of the clothesline. This time he jumps, to add a little more to the impact. Again, Ammo doesn't appear to be phased. In fact, he's actually smiling.
(Tom) What's he smiling about?
(JB) If I had to guess, I'd say he's enjoying this. And if you look, Slush is smiling as well.
(Tom) I told you, they're not taking this seriously!
Slush retreats once again... This time, instead of a clothesline, he spins in the air and connects with Ammo elbow-first.
(JB) There's the Ice Breaker!
Ammo begins to stagger now. Building up momentum, Slush hits the rear ropes and lands another chop block, this time finally dropping Ammo to a knee. Slush capitalizes by pouncing onto the big man's back and applying a sleeper hold.
(Tom) Oh, yay! A sleeper hold!
Ammo stands up, with Slush still holding on tight. He takes a few steps around the middle of the ring, carrying Slush on his back like there's nothing there at all... Then, with a shrug, Ammo falls backwards.
(Tom) That's got to hurt.
(JB) Damn right! Ammo is well over three hundred pounds, and a good chunk of that just landed right on top of Slush!
Ammo doesn't bother rolling over - or even moving at all, for that matter - and Slush's shoulders are pinned to the mat. Owens slides in and makes it two a two-count before Slush wriggles out from under Ammo enough to get a shoulder up.
(JB) Steady, fair count by Owens there.
On the outside, Twitch is still shouting encouragements. Blake Bouchard, on the other hand, simply lays still in his corner... Which is to be expected from a towel.
With the pinning predicament broken up, Ammo gets to his feet. He pulls the still-stunned Slush up, and applies a pumphandle. Ammo swings Slush up onto his shoulder, but before he can execute the powerslam portion of this particular maneuver (called the Ammo Dump, by the way), Slush slips out and lands on his feet behind Ammo. Slush quickly jumps on Ammo's back again, giving the sleeper another try.
(Tom) Didn't he learn from last time?
(JB) Maybe he has some strategy in mind, Bear...
(Tom) Or he's just an idiot. I'll go with that one.
Once again, Ammo shrugs, then falls backwards... But this time, Slush releases the hold and shoves off of Ammo's back. The result is that Ammo lands flat on his back and Slush is left standing over him.
(Tom) I take it back. Ammo's the idiot.
Slush lands a pair of knee drops, followed immediately by a pair of elbow drops. He then scales the top rope and signals for the Melting Point... Slush leaps into the air with his twisting moonsault and connects! He makes the cover, and Owens slides in for another two count.
(JB) Close call for Ammo there.
Slush gets to his feet, but has no intention of allowing Ammo to do the same. This time, Slush goes with a couple of trusty leg drops. Before Slush can go for a third, Ammo's arm lashes out and he catches Slush by the ankle. Slush struggles briefly, kicking at Ammo's arm, but Ammo doesn't let go.
In a single motion, Ammo sits up Undertaker-style and sweeps his arm around, pulling Slush along with it. Slush tries to hop along with the motion on his free foot to no avail, instead tripping over Ammo's leg and falling flat on his face.
Ammo gets back to his feet, and pulls his partner up once again. This time, he Irish whips Slush to the ropes. Slush's momentum carries him straight into a big boot to the face. Ammo moves in, grabbing Slush by both feet. Slush knows exactly what this means and struggles to get away, again to no avail. Ammo lifts Slush up, holding both of his legs and turns him over into an elevated Boston crab.
(JB) Shootout! This could be it!
Owens slides in, watching Slush's hand for any sign of submission. But Slush waves him off, instead fighting through it. Eventually, after about a minute of struggle and random commentary that isn't important or funny enough to bother with, Slush manages to grab the rope. Owens calls for the break, and Ammo obliges immediately, backing off to regroup.
On the outside, Twitch seems to be getting into a heated argument with Blake Bouchard over the merits of their respective clients.
(Tom) Is he arguing with his own damn towel?
(JB) So it would seem.
Twitch gets angry enough to pick Blake up. After shaking the towel a bit, Twitch tosses Blake into the ring... Where it lands squarely on Keith Owens' head. Keith isn't entirely pleased, as he turns around and throws Blake back out at Twitch.
That's when Slush hits a Nutcracker.
(Tom) Whoa!
(JB) Did I just see that correctly?
(Tom) Slush low-blowed his own partner! I didn't know he had it in him! Frankly Mannwagon, I'm almost impressed.
(JB) They did agree not to pull any punches... But this is a bit outside of friendly competition!
Ammo is not at all impressed, however, as he doubles over in pain. Slush gets to his feet quickly and bounces off the ropes. Owens turns back around just as Slush leaps into the air, landing with his leg across the back of Ammo's neck and sending the big man face-first into the mat.
(JB) Judgment Call! Slush is going to steal this one, folks!
Slush goes for the cover and Owens, not having seen the low blow, goes in for the count.
1...
2...
(JB) No!! Ammo got out at the last second!
Slush gets up, shaking his head and... Smiling again? Slush steps back and waits for Ammo to get up. When he does, we're basically right back where we started: The Goods facing each other a foot or so apart in the middle of the ring, shaking hands.
(Tom) What is going on here?
(JB) A show of sportsmanship between partners?
(Tom) Are you kidding me? Just when it was getting interesting after that low blow!
Owens isn't sure what's going on either, as he looks back and forth between Slush and Ammo. He's about to step in and tell them to get back to the match, when Ammo points to his groin, with a questioning look in his eyes. Referring, of course, to the Nutcracker not long ago.
Slush puts on his best "innocent" face and shrugs. Ammo smiles... And promptly attempts to take Slush's head off with a short-arm clothesline. Then he looks out to the crowd (and in particular, the camera) and repeats Slush's innocent face and shrug.
(Tom) And now we're back to not taking it seriously. This match has come full-circle!
Ammo pulls Slush back up and sends him to the ropes once again. Slush ducks a clothesline and comes back with a side kick to Ammo's gut. But Ammo catches the foot and pulls his partner in by the leg.
Ammo wraps his massive hand around Slush's throat and lifts the Toronto native high in the air for a moment, before sitting out and slamming Slush to the ground.
(JB) Breakdown! Slush is a crumpled heap after that!
Ammo, without moving his body, slides his choke-slamming hand down from Slush's neck to his chest, and looks to Keith Owens.
Just as he has throughout the match, Owens slides into position and makes a steady, even count. This time it's a three.
(Troy) Your winner, and now one half of the Tag Team Number One Contenders... AMMO!
His job done, Owens slides out of the ring and retrieves his Championship belt from the apron. He slings the title over his shoulder and heads up the ramp, not even looking back at one of the men he will now face at Breaking Point.
(Tom) I don't think Trevor's going to like this.
(JB) What about Trevor now?
(Tom) Would you want to fight a giant like Ammo, when there's a Slush available?
(JB) I suppose not.
(Tom) Keith should have made sure Ammo lost.
(JB) I have to respect Owens, Bear. He called this thing straight down the middle.
(Tom) Any normal referee could have done that! What's so "special" about a guest referee that's no different that Phil Redding or Walt Mason?
(JB) That very fact, Bear! Keith Owens let this match be about tonight. The two men in the ring. Not about Breaking Point, his interests, or whatever his partner might want. He should be commended.
(Tom) Whatev.
Back in the ring, Ammo has helped Slush up, and in another show of sportsmanship, Slush raises his partner's arm in victory. Twitch runs into the ring and, reluctantly, Ammo allows the manager to raise his other arm. The celebration continues for a few moments, but we have somewhere else to be just now...
Keeping the Agreement
Jaime is slowly over in a corner of the locker room with his duffel bag in front of him. He's sitting on his knees with his head bowed down on the bag saying something to himself, it seems.
As he's finishing, the portly one comes up to him.
(Brian) Jaime... Your match is coming up. Ray Ray wanted me to make sure you and Ashley aren't running out... But seems you're dressed for it.
(Jaime) Seems the commissioner isn't confident we can stay professionals. I told him, he doesn't have to worry about me. It's that other jackass I'd be more worried about.
(Brian) Just doing what the bossman...
The much taller Jaime stands up and looks at the teenager with a look of intent.
(Jaime) Just doing your job, which is what we all have to do, kid. Go tell the boss I'm ready, Brian. I don't know about the Born Moron...
As if on cue, Collier comes out in his black and gold trim shorts.
(Ashley) That's Born Warrior, old man! And yes, I'm ready. Seems if we don't beat up Clarke, we don't get paid. Just don't suck in the ring, pendejo...
Jaime looks at Collier leaving for the ring and then looks back at Brian.
(Jaime) If you grow up and act like that, I'll hurt you myself. Comprende, nino?
Brian looks up and swallows whatever gum he had in his mouth.
(Brian) Uh... Sure.
(Jaime) Good... Because I hate repeating myself.
Jaime walks out and pats the portly kid on the shoulder. Brian looks as Jaime walks by him.
Cut.
Where Is She?
Backstage. Mike Lane is at the craft services table, grabbing a cup of coffee. (That's right, we're not in a locker room, for once!) A nameless Foundation employee is also here, also looking for a hot caffeinated beverage.
Out of nowhere, like a blur, a figure comes through the frame. Suddenly Mike Lane is doubled over and pinned against the table. The nameless employee wisely bails, as a man is now holding Lane by both the back of his shirt and the hair on the back of his head.
Given the size difference between Lane and this man, you would think that "Mr. Hollywood" would have an easy time escaping the hold... But anger and adrenaline can do some pretty amazing things. Plus, the element of surprise doesn't hurt.
So it is that Sean "Spaz" Thomas has Mike Lane in this unenviable position.
(Lane) What the hell!?
Spaz doesn't react to Lane's apparent shock. In fact, it's as if Lane didn't even speak. He bends over, so he can look Lane in the eyes. Spaz is all but boring a hole through to the back of his long-time rival's head with his stare.
(Spaz) Where is she?
For those not paying attention, "she" refers to Krystin Thomas, who disappeared during Annihilation 20. From the look on his face, Lane appears to be confused on that point.
(Lane) Who?
That was apparently not the answer Spaz was looking for. So he pulls Lane's head up a bit, then promptly slams it back into the table.
(Spaz) Where...
Head, meet table again.
(Spaz) ... Is...
And one more.
(Spaz) ... She?
This is the point in the exchange where Spaz would hope that his captive might start to be forthcoming in terms of information.
Unfortunately for Spaz, that's not about to happen. Although Mike Lane has been taken by surprise and dealt a few minor blows to the head, he's still larger than Spaz, and he's still one hell of a wrestler.
Just as quickly as Spaz attacked to start this exchange, now Lane takes the opportunity to counter. He elbows Spaz in the gut, then comes up swinging. Spaz goes down hard, but comes up fast, rushing Lane.
(Spaz) You son of a bitch! Where's my sister?!
The pair go down in a heap, throwing punches back and forth. Before they can do much more damage, a squad of Security men race into the room, having been summoned by that random staffer who bailed earlier.
The guards tear Spaz and Lane apart as we cut.
(Tom) What was that all about?
(JB) Spaz must think that Mike Lane was behind his sister's disappearance. And frankly, I don't blame him one bit!
(Tom) Why would Mike Lane kidnap Spaz's sister? I mean, she's hot, but that's no basis for a kidnapping!
(JB) Mike Lane has been trying to get under Spaz's skin ever since we came back from hiatus, Bear. Kidnapping his sister would most certainly accomplish that goal.
(Tom) If Lane did this, he'd have been bragging about it right off the top of the show... To get to Spaz that much more.
(JB) You... Well, you actually make a fair point there, Bear.
(Tom) I have my moments.
(JB) If only they came more often.
(Tom) Keep wishing, Mannatee.
(JB) I pray for it every night.
(Tom) Gord must not like you very much.
COMMERCIAL
NAFW Presents:
BREAKING POINT: BEYOND THE LIMIT
Live on Pay Per View!
Call your local cable or satellite provider today!
Derek Clarke vs. Ashley Collier & Jaime Alejandro
5 Minute Handicap Survival Match
We come back from commercial to find Derek Clarke, Jaime Alejandro, and Ashley Collier all spaced out in a triangulated fashion in the ring. The referee is constantly spinning in a circle trying to keep all three from attacking each other before the bell – even though this is a handicap survival match for Clarke. Troy Gilmore makes the match announcement.
(Troy) Ladies and gentlemen, the following match is a Five Minute Handicap Survival Match. To win the match, Derek Clarke must survive five minutes in the ring without being disqualified, counted out, submitted, or pinned.
Our referee calls for the bell and immediately pushes Jaime Alejandro and Ashley Collier back. The two of them bicker over who should start the match before Jaime concedes the start to Ashley, just to get things underway.
(JB) Look at the size of that shiner on Jaime Alejandro’s face.
(Tom) That’s what happens when you get knocked the [bleep] out.
(JB) For Gord’s sake, lets not start with the swear words again.
Back in the ring, Ashley Collier and Derek Clarke are circling up. Collier puts up his dukes and takes a few wild swings at Clarke, which Derek manages to duck and dodge. Clarke rushes in and takes Collier down with a judo throw. Clarke immediately grabs one of Collier’s legs and leg drops his “inner thigh.” Clarke rolls backwards, and up to his feet, while Collier scurries away to his corner and slap Alejandro’s shoulder to tag him in.
(JB) Collier sure was surprised by the offense of Derek Clarke.
(Tom) Hardly.
(JB) Then explain why Jaime Alejandro is laughing in his face right now.
(Tom) Because he’s got a bad sense of humor.
Jaime steps into the ring and mouths something along the lines of “Watch how it’s done, punk” to Collier. Jaime then hooks up into a collar-and-elbow with Clarke. The end result of this is a shove down. With Clarke up onto his feet, Jaime taunts Clarke to run and hit him. Clarke charges and actually nails Jaime in the face with running back elbow. Jaime tells him to come at him again, and this time Clarke knocks him around with a clothesline. Collier calls Jaime an old man and tells him to give it up, but he tells Clarke to bring it on again. This time Clarke goes for a running crossbody attack, but Jaime catches him and redirects the momentum into a powerslam.
(JB) Big move by Alejandro!
Jaime covers Clarke, but he gets a shoulder up after the count of two. Jaime wastes little time and throws Clarke into the corner, then readies for the 50 Caliber Kick. Jaime then runs back into the other corner and runs full steam, expecting to connect. Instead, Clarke ducks under as the foot nears and he rolls under. Then, Clarke jumps up and pops Jaime with a hard jumping back brain kick. Collier laughs it up on the outside while Clarke covers Jaime for two, but the veteran powers out.
(Tom) How does Jaime expect to beat Collier if he can’t even take down Clarke?
(JB) Clarke is a former tag team champion. He’s got more credit to his name than Ashley does right now!
Back on their feet, Clarke launches Jaime with an Irish whip. Clarke hits the other side and runs towards Jaime. Jaime hits both arms on Clarke's shoulder and leap frogs over him. He stops and turns back. As Clarke comes back, he nails him with a hard short clothesline.
(JB) Look at the agility of Jaime Alejandro!
(Tom) Look where it got him! Laid out on his back!
Right now, the clock ticks down to approximately three minutes and thirty seconds remaining. Jaime approaches his corner, ready to tag out, but Collier hops off the apron before he can do so. Alejandro starts chewing out Collier, but Clarke sneaks up from behind and gets a school boy roll up. Jaime kicks out after two though, and the match continues.
Clarke attempts another Irish whip, but this time Jaime reverses it and on the bounce off the ropes, Jaime catches him for a 180 degree spinebuster. After Clarke is dropped, Jaime points at Collier and tells him, "Keep watching, pendejo." Jaime, by the grace of God alone, pulls off a standing moonsault and hangs on for a pin cover.
(JB) By Gord what is Jaime doing? I’ve never seen him this flexible or agile!
(Tom) That was painful…
(JB) For Clarke?
(Tom) No, for me… He was practically moving in slow motion! Lets leave the standing moonsaults for the cruiserweights!
Meanwhile, Clarke kicks out of the moonsault pin at two, but his ribs are feeling the pain of having Alejandro land on them. Clarke slowly gets back to his feet, and only has to survive a little less than two minutes. Derek wastes little time in starting a new offensive against Jaime, hitting a few punches and a kick. Derek then jumps onto Jaime’s back and tries to buy some time with a sleeper hold.
(JB) If Derek can hang on to that sleeper hold, he might be able to either get Jaime to tap out or to survive the five minute limit.
Jaime drops down to one knee, then onto two. The crowd begins to clap in support of him, but Collier turns and tells them to knock it off. They don’t listen and Jaime gets back up onto his feet, and Derek is hanging onto his back trying to apply the sleeper hold still. Jaime makes it to his corner, and before Collier can react, he forcefully tags him in, then gets the monkey off his back with a snapmare. Collier refuses to enter, even though the referee tells him to. Jaime takes the initiative and hits Collier in the face with a couple of rights before locking him up and suplexing him into the ring from the apron.
Time is ticking away and Jaime doesn’t have the time to wait for Collier to get off his ass. He turns his attention back to Derek and manages hoist him up for the Crimson Revolver. The move connects, and Clarke is laid out! There’s about thirty seconds left and Jaime knows he’s not the legal man so he turns his attention to Collier, to drag him over Clarke’s body.
However, Collier is already back up on his feet, with brass knuckles on his fist. He takes a wild swing at Jaime, but Jaime reacts fast enough to get out of the way. Collier spins around and tries to connect again, but he goes 0 for 2. Jaime has had enough of this and begins nailing Collier with his own lefts and rights. The time ticks down on the clock. 5… 4… 3… But Jaime can’t turn his attention away from his Pay Per View opponent… 2… 1…
We hear the bell sound, and that’s the end of this match.
(JB) Well, it seemed like Derek Clarke wasn’t going to survive after him and Jaime went toe to toe for most of the five minutes, but Ashley Collier’s reluctance to help out allowed Derek Clarke to survive. Only time will tell what Commissioner Buchanan has lined up for Derek at the Pay Per View now.
(Tom) They didn’t beat Derek though! Their match at Breaking Point should be off!
(JB) Not quite. All they had to do was participate in the match and not deliberately throw it. Poor team work between enemies doesn’t seem to indicate the match was thrown.
On the outside of the ring, the referee raises the hand of Derek Clarke who is pretty winded, but survives until Buchanan’s next challenge.
Meanwhile, on the inside of the ring, Collier and Alejandro are exchanging blows. At some point the brass knuckles went flying off, so its just skin and bones against skin and bones. The security team headed by Ryan McJohnson comes barreling out of the back, and attempts to separate the two men.
(JB) Things have gone to hell out here between Collier and Alejandro!
(Tom) Let them fight. We don’t need to wait until the Pay Per View!
About five men attempt to hold back each man, with their boss McJohnson in the middle directing traffic. They try to force Jaime Alejandro through the ropes first, but as they hold them open, he springs forward and dives on top of the other security guards to try and get at Collier. Things are wild and hectic in the ring until McJohnson’s crew pushes Collier out under the bottom rope. Collier scurries up the ramp with the NAFW security team between him and Alejandro. He begins to mouth off to Alejandro, who is being pinned down face first on the mat.
(Ashley) Is that a familiar position for you Jaime? All you beaners are no good dirty thieves! Haul his ass to jail while you numbskulls are at it!
The security detail that was assigned to clear Collier out of the area stares at Ryan McJohnson in the middle of the ring as Ashley runs his mouth. McJohnson gives a simple nod, and the team immediately turns and pounces on Collier, restraining him face first on the ramp. Collier begins freaking out and flailing his arms and legs in the face of the five on one.
(Ashley) Ahh! Ahh! Don’t taze me bro!
There is no tasering of Collier though. With both Jaime and Ashley restrained, order has been restored, until the Pay Per View that is.
(JB) I don’t think the security team has forgotten what Collier did to them at Chain Reaction!
(Tom) This is an outrage! How dare they handle Collier like that?
(JB) They restrained both men after an unruly situation in the ring. It’s their job.
(Tom) Bah. Their job is to keep thugs like Alejandro from getting out of control.
(JB) It’s probably best that Ashley Collier and Jaime Alejandro save their energies for Breaking Point anyway.
No Idea
Sorry folks, but we're going to a locker room again. This time, it's the one belonging to Mike Lane and the Old School Empire.
We enter following Mike Lane into the room. He's clearly a bit miffed after the altercation with Spaz earlier. He goes into the room just at the end of a conversation between Shane and Dustin.
(Shane) So, we're agreed?
(Dustin) Yeah.
The Thomas Brothers notice Lane at this point, and look to him.
(Shane) What happened to you, man?
Lane shakes his head.
(Lane) Little Spazzy jumped me by catering. Kept asking me where his sister was.
(Dustin) His sister?
Lane nods.
(Lane) Seems she disappeared from the arena in Toronto, and Sean thinks I had something to do with it.
(Shane) And you didn't?
Lane gives The Alpha an incredulous glare.
(Lane) No. Did you two?
Shane and Dustin look at each other, then back to Lane. Both shake their heads.
(Dustin) I had no idea she was even gone.
(Shane) Neither did I.
Lane shakes his head as well.
(Lane) Well, that makes three of us, then. Which means that Sean's barking up the wrong tree.
Cut.
(Tom) I told you!
(JB) I hate to admit it, but Mike Lane actually seemed to be sincere. And he's not that good of an actor.
(Tom) I don't know about that! Did you see his last movie?
(JB) I don't even remember the title. Do you?
(Tom) Of course.
Silence. JB stares at his partner.
(JB) Well?
(Tom) Why should I tell you? You should remember it on your own.
(JB) Whatever you say, Bear.
The Meeting of Face to Mask
The lights immediately dim as “Down and Out” by Tantric begins to play. When the base kicks in after the violin opening. A tall dark figure comes out and stands atop of the tramp. The lights come to up again, and the man stands in a black suit, with a violet colored tie and highlights. Black gloved hands holds a mic in the right. The music dies as the man claps his hands and then stops.
(XC) Well, it is finally nice to meet you all. Hello NAFW, and everyone watching. I am Xavier Caine. It is so nice to see all of your dulled and worthless looking faces today.
Caine smiles to himself as he walks down the ramp and towards the ring.
(XC) Man, I hope I don’t look like the lot of you when I feel this excited. Now, I do have one problem about something. You see I’ve been looking for this one individual all night long. The word is nobody sees him, but he is here. Trust me I have this odd feeling that he is.
Caine walks up the steps and onto the apron. He then slips into the ring between the top, and middle ropes.
(XC) Mr. Sorrow you want to play the mysterious man with a mysterious past. Well, I am asking your just this once nicely to come on down to the ring so that everybody including myself can get to know you a little better.
Taking a few moments, and stares at the entrance way to the ring. Cain shakes his head and chuckles lightly.
(XC) Well, Mr. Sorrow I said only once nicely. Now let me point out a few things folks. Maybe Mr. Sorrow doesn’t come down because he’s afraid of you all. Hell, his only match wasn’t really seen by many, and he wears a mask. I think he is a hapless fool to cant wrestler.
Apparently, enough is enough as Godsmack's "Dead and Broken" blares out of the sound system in the arena and the bizarre superstar known as Sorrow hurries down to the ringside area. He dives quickly underneath the bottom ring rope from a sprint and slides midway across the ring. He pops easily to his feet and stands eerily silent before Xavier Caine with his head bowed.
(XC) You see fit to grace me with your presence, Mr. Sorrow? Are you really that eager to engage in your destruction?
The crowd is anxious to hear some kind of response from the silver and black clad masked man.
He doesn't move.
(XC) Maybe I was wrong about you, Mr. Sorrow? maybe you aren't that potential bright star on the horizon that I wished to snuff out? Maybe you're simply just a coward ... hiding behind a mask to conceal your insecurity?
Again, the crowd is silent, waiting with baited breath for some sort of response to the verbal abuse being spouted at the quirky newcomer.
Then, they get one.
Sorrow reels back with one arm and swings it forward, stopping just short of Caine's jaw. He flips his palm open to reveal a small metallic tape recorder, similar to the one Caine left for him in recent weeks. On the recorder is a small yellow Post-It note with "Xavier Caine" scrawled across it in jagged writing.
Caine scowls at the masked man and snatches the small device from him.
(XC) What the hell is this? Perhaps a declaration of surrender? Something you don't have the guts to say yourself but you need all these people to hear?
He holds the tape recorder up to the microphone and pushes the PLAY button.
There are a few seconds of crackling static before a digitally masked voice says two simple words.
(Sorrow) I'm sorry.
The lights fade to black and some screams ring our from the crowd in attendance.
(JB) What's going on? I can't see a thing!
When the lights come back on. Caine is standing in the middle of the and alone. He looks angered at it. He attempts to speak but pauses. He then glares around the ring. As Xavier is clearly frustrated, “Down and Out’ by Tantric begins to play and he leaves the ring.
We cut to commercial.
COMMERCIAL
The following advertisement is paid for by the Stephen Owens Presidential Campaign:
Tired of illegal immigrants sneaking in through the crowd?
Scared that terrorists are going to powerbomb you in your own home?
Afraid that foreign entanglements are going to piledrive the nation further into despair?
Then its time to crown a new champion!
Vote for Stephen Owens to be your next President of the United States in 2008!
"I am Stephen Owens, and I approve of this message."
Jebus? David Blaine?
Fade into the backstage area where Brian McJohnson, the portly nephew of NAFW’s Head of Security Ryan McJohnson is walking around the catering table. However, it appears that the men and women of the NAFW have already done their damage before the show began airing, and there’s not much food left for our ever hungry tub of lard.
He turns his attention to the industrial sized trash can text to the barren catering table and begins rummaging through the trash. Within moments he pulls out a quarter eaten bagel and begins munching on it. This doesn’t satisfy his hunger though. The search continues as he dives into the trash can head first. He tosses out some old plates, some empty water bottles, a coffee cup, and an empty bottle of Jack Daniels.
His stout body is more than half-way inside the trash at this point, and Brian McJ appears to be – well – stuck! Muffled inside the trash can, he cries out for help.
(Brian) Help! Help! I’m stuck! Somebody freakin’ help me already!
His chubby legs dangle from above the rim of the trash can. A few moments pass before a man in a hooded jacket walks across this scene. He places an envelope and what appears to be a cheeseburger on top of the catering table. After doing this, he approaches the young McJohnson stuck in the trashcan. He takes one look and shakes his head before tipping the trash can over with his foot. McJohnson, and the rest of the contents from inside the container, spill out onto the floor. The man quickly leaves the scene.
(Brian) Ugh! Who was that? Jebus? Is that you Jebus?
Brian pulls himself up using the catering table to regain his balance, old bagel still firmly in his grip. He glances around, but sees no one else. His attention is drawn to the left behind cheeseburger.
(Brian) Holy shnikes! It’s a miracle!
He picks up the cheeseburger, but there is an envelope attached to it. Chubby McChubster pulls it off the burger reads what the outside of the envelope says.
(Brian) Deliver this to Keith Owens… Do not let anyone else have this… There are more cheeseburgers waiting for you when you deliver this… Jack Henderson.
Brian McJohnson looks at the note strangely.
(Brian) Jack Henderson? I thought David Blaine made things appear out of thin air… Oh well, I can’t turn down free cheeseburgers…
And with that, the intern puts the envelope under his sweaty armpit and waddles down the hallway with an old bagel in one hand and a cheeseburger in the other.
Spaz & Andy D (AC) vs. Mike Lane & Snake
(JB) The fourth match of the night, Bear. Which means we're halfway home now.
(Tom) No kidding, Mann-wagon. You want four men who want to rip each other apart. This is your match. You want a man where someone gets the you know what beat out of them for no reason... Hopefully you TiVO'd the last match...
(JB) Kudos to Derek Clarke for surviving a very pissed off Alejandro and an arrogant Collier.
(Tom) I might actually believe the punk would have a chance after that one.
(JB) However, like you said earlier, this is a match of bad blood. Snake wants to avenge Wilson...
(Tom) Andy D wants to avenge his dignity after the extended family attacks. Which the way he wants to do it involves Snake giving a bit of blood.
(JB) Are you warming up to Andy?
(Tom) Not really, but I figure he'll give me at least a dose of violence I need now and then...
Troy signals to Jason Howard, as he's ready to announce it.
(Troy) The following is a tag team match scheduled for one fall...
The house lights drop out, to be replaced by red lights, pulsing in time with a high hat playing a steady beat behind the rapid opening bass riff of "There and Back Again" by Daughtry. A single spotlight focuses on the top of the ramp, and Two figures are in that spotlight.
Spaz steps forward, wearing his usual attire: simple black pants, dark red elbow pads and wristbands, and the trademark Ruby Oakleys. He also sports his new "SpaZ" Throwback t-shirt. Standing behind Spaz is his manager, the man known as Twitch. The former commentator wears navy blue khakis and a red golf shirt. As usual, Twitch has Blake Bouchard over his shoulder.
The music skips the opening verse and heads straight into the pre-chorus. On the word "Shine" Spaz bolts down the ramp and slides into the ring. He mounts the second turnbuckle and takes off his t-shirt, tossing it into the crowd. As the music fades, Spaz hands his Ruby Oakleys to Twitch, who then plays a brief game of "Want it? Can't have it!" with a fan in the front row before handing over the souvenir.
(Troy) Introducing first, from Brampton, Ontario. He is SPAZ!
The Arena lights go down as the 'Ace' Signature logo appears on screen. A large '1' is spray panted over the top before Keep Yourself Alive II kicks in over the PA. Andy comes out and heads towards the ring, hand slapping a couple of the audience along the way. Andy climbs into the ring and heads to his turnbuckle, flipping his bucket hat off his head and placing on the metal part of the turnbuckle. He takes off his shades and places them on the hat before turning around ready for the match.
(Troy) His tag team parter. From the United Kingdom. He is the Atlantic Champion. ANDY D!
Both men meet up and start discussing their plans for the match. They take a look towards the entrance ramp, waiting on two men they'd like to throw off a cliff right now.
(JB) Seems Spaz and Andy are actually discussing it.
(Tom) Might actually be trying to cool it off. Both men are waiting on their opponents, and I actually think since that nice piece of tail, Krystin Thomas, went missing. Spaz hasn't been in the right mind.
(JB) Bear, is that all you see her as. Not a vibrant young woman who could be in serious trouble.
(Tom) Of course, I see her as a beautiful, intelligent... Yeah, you're right. I do see her as a nice piece of tail that hasn't seen what...
(JB) Bear... Stop.
The opening riff plays as the word and name "SNAKE" flashes across the screen. As the guitars start to pick up, Snake is seen coming out from the back to a chorus of boos from the crowd in attendance. Snake throws his arms up in the air causing green pyro to go off on the stage behind him before he starts to make his way down to the ring. Snake takes his sweet time getting to the ring, showing his "appreciation" for the fans. When he does get to the ring, Snake slides under the bottom rope and climbs onto the nearest turnbuckle, throwing his arms up in the air once more to get one last rise out of the crowd before he turns to the referee and waits for him to signal for the bell.
(Troy) Their first opponent. He hails from Portland, Oregon. He is the man known as SNAKE!
The crowd lets him know what they think with a few "Snake Sucks!" chants and the sign that says "Wilson has no balls." Snake isn't too happy to see that, either.
(Tom) Snake is trying to get that sign ripped down. Wilson is in peril, and these people use that for their material. They make me sick...
(JB) About as sick in the head as Snake is...
(Tom) Yes.
(JB) Snake has been sending out Wilson's family after Andy D, who put out Wilson. Maybe for good...
The opening chords of Metallica's "Sad But True" rock the arena as the fans come to their feet, and the booing has already begun. The lights have dropped, leaving a single spotlight on the entrance way. As the intro finishes up, the lights drop completely out except for a single name on the NAFW-Tron.
Mike Lane.
As the lyrics come in, Lane steps out of the curtain. The intensity of the jeers increases, and we can see that he is soaking it all in. He stands on the stage for a moment before hitting the crucifix pose, complete with Mike Lane Grin. Pyro explodes behind him.
He reaches out to smack a fans hand, but the fan pulls away. Mr. Old School Hollywood raises up his hand, like he's going to slap the insolence out of the poor kid, but then he just grins again and continues his walk. He climbs into the ring, and holds up his arm, allowing the fans to let him have it.
(Troy) His tag team partner. He hails from Kingsport, Tennessee. He is MIKE LANE!
The crowd tries to strongly voice their displeasure at his taunting of Spaz and the disappearance of Krystin Thomas. Most of them are taunting him.
Even a good majority of those old school Stampede Wrestling fans want a fight with him.
(JB) Tough crowd for Lane to deal with, Bear...
(Tom) Most of the time, I don't fear for anything happening to Lane.
(JB) But...
(Tom) It's a test of who wants to kill him first, Spaz or the fans!
Martin rings the bell as Spaz and Snake start the match. Both men hook up in the collar and elbow. Snake tries to push and fails as Spaz pushes him back hard. Snake takes an unceremonious bump on the floor. Snake vaults up, as Spaz gives him a hard right for his trouble. He then glares at Mike Lane, yelling at him “Where is she, Mike?”
Lane shakes his head in denial, and as Snake crawls over for a tag, he backs off. Spaz drags the Hardcore Luchadore to the middle of the ring and slaps on a headlock. Of course, he doesn't keep it a straight headlock, as he's seeing Mike Lane again. Of course, he delivers a few lefts to the side of the head. Martin calls for the five count and Spaz let's go of him.
(JB) Spaz isn't himself this week, Bear.
(Tom) No kidding, Mann-wagon... He's seeing Mike Lane instead of Snake.
(JB) Martin mercifully calling for the five.. And what's this?
(Tom) This can't get any better for Snake...
Spaz tags in Andy, and he's circling around Snake. A hard soccer kick to the side of Snake. Another one for good measure. Andy picks up the masked one and lays in a series of hard rights. Snake bounces back into the ropes and comes back with rights of his own. Rights and left are exchanged. Snake gets in a gouge to the eye and gets out of Dodge.
(Tom) Snake and Andy D aren't playing around, Mann. Both men are laying harder wood than most baseball players.
(JB) After getting hit by the Penn Tennis Brothers, Franklin the fastball, Titleist the golfball, Brunswick, and Wilson the Football (some relation.) I'd be a bit ticked off.
(Tom) The fact you remembered some of the family scares me.
(JB) You're not the only one, Bear...
Snake tags in Lane who seems a bit more eager to step into the ring with Andy D. Spaz looks to try to tag in Andy, but Lane keeps him away. Lane carries his opponent over into a snap mare and grinds him into headlock. Andy is trying his hardest to reach over to the corner. Lane cranks it back more.
(JB) Lane isn't wanting to be in the ring with Spaz.
(Tom) And Snake is seeking revenge against Andy. Somehow, I think Andy is getting the raw deal, and I don't like him...
Andy suddenly rises up and raises his feet up for a stomp on Lane's feet. Lane lets go of the hold and hobbles away a bit. Of course, he turns around and sees a very angry Spaz who was tagged in lightning fast. He grabs Lane and starts laying in rights and lefts. Lane tries to escape, but Spaz grabs him and prevents him from reaching a corner. Again asking for his sister.
(JB) This is a bit too much, Bear. It seems that isn't Spaz in the ring. It's Sean Thomas, a man looking for his sister.
(Tom) And he's wanting to beat the answers out of Lane.
(JB) And I don't think Lane has those answers, Tom...
(Tom) For once, we do agree... This is scary.
Spaz is laying in hard shots into Lane. Lane decides to fire back with hard shots of his own, if only to get away. In one swift moment, he clocks Spaz and tags in Snake. In that moment, Lane slides out.
(JB) Lane wanting no part of it, at all. And it seems Spaz is on a witch hunt.
(Tom) And to make Lane back off. This is scary, Mann. Too scary.
Spaz eases over and tags Andy D in quickly. Both legal men meet in the middle of the ring and start slugging it out. Martin is trying to break them up as best as he can. However, for a man who's larger than his participants... He's not having an easy time.
(Tom) The big man is trying to get them apart, but he's failing badly.
(JB) Snake and Andy have as much bad blood as Spaz and Lane. Albeit, a bit stranger on the reasoning.
(Tom) Wilson didn't deserve that, Mann-wheel...
(JB) He's a damn volleyball! He could buy a new one and paint it up, for crissakes!
(Tom) That's not the point...
(JB) I give... What's this?!!
Snake tries to sneak away from Andy, but he gets hit with a right for his efforts. Andy keeps going with rights until Snake hits the ropes and gets rolled back to the outside. Andy moves to the floor to meet Snake.
Snake moves out of the way and starts laying his own series of fists. Andy D backs towards the entrance way. Both men start trading shots back and forth, as Martin is trying to get them back into the ring.
(JB) Andy and Snake are the legal men, and they're about to end this match on a double count out.
(Tom) Those two are going at it. Andy clawing for his belt. Snake fighting for his little buddy.
As the legal men keep fighting, Lane sneaks in and holds up a chair waiting on Spaz to look. Spaz looks and blocks the attempt, by taking away the chair. And then, a hard right hook to Lane's jaw. All Lane does is roll out and waves himself away from the action.
Martin calls for the bell, as Snake and Andy are not heading back into the ring. Spaz stands there looking at Lane wanting him to get back into the ring.
(JB) This match turned into total chaos, Bear. With nothing resolved between anyone, Bear...
(Tom) Still no clue of where Spaz's sister is, or anything close to a resolution between Andy and Snake.
Where Is Your Partner?
Cut to the backstage area, where Brian McJohnson is wandering the halls of the Pengrowth Saddledome. Surprisingly he still has the cheeseburger and old bagel in his hands. The bagel is almost completely consumed while the cheeseburger is only about half eaten.
As he walks down the corridor as fast as his stumpy little legs will take him, he passes a number of NAFW personnel that the casual fan wouldn't recognize. He passes the "sick bay" where Diane Clarke is tending to the 'Japanese rental' that "The Reaper" Leonard Aarons destroyed earlier in the night. Without thinking too much of it, him and Trevor Cunning (with his bottle of Jack Daniels) pass each other. Only a few steps after walking by him, Cunning stops in his tracks and turns around.
(Trevor) Woah, woah, woah, tons of fun, the buffet will still be there by the time you get there.
As if the insults were second nature, Brian McJohnson stops and turns around.
(Brain) Yeah, what the heck do you want?
Cunning snarls at the young lad.
(Trevor) Whatcha got there – grocery list?
(Brian) No that it’s any of your business – but it’s a letter from Jack Henderson for your partner.
Trevor is intrigued, since Keith has left him out of the loop on this business with Jack Henderson.
(Trevor) I knew that. Actually - Keith asked me to come get it for him. So why don't you let me have that envelope McJ? I'll make sure it gets to Keith.
Brian stuffs the last bit of someone else's bagel into his mouth.
(Brian) No way!
As he says that, he spits crumbs all over Trevor's referee shirt. Trevor makes a disgusted face as he has to wipe his shirt clean with his bare hand, but he keeps his cool.
(Trevor) C'mon, I got a half a Snicker's bar in my gym bag. I'll trade you for it.
(Brian) Yeah right! My reward for delivering this is way better than that!
Sensing that Brian isn't willing to barter, Cunning thinks of a new strategy that doesn't involve laying his hands on the Head of Security's nephew.
(Trevor) Look fat-as… I mean… Brian, I feel like we've gotten off on the wrong foot in the past. How about we sit down, have a little Jack and put all of that behind us?
Brian thinks about it over a bite of his cheeseburger.
(Brian) I haven't found anyone willing to buy me alcohol yet… so… Sure!
Cunning takes the first pull of Jack Daniel's from the bottle. The seasoned pro has no trouble getting the booze to pour down his throat. The Godfather then passes the bottle to Brian.
(Trevor) Alright, its your turn. Don’t worry if it stings a little - the burning just means its working.
Somewhat hesitantly, Brian tips the bottle back. The Tennessee Whiskey doesn't go down as easy as it did for Trevor, but Brian holds on and keeps chugging it like it was a Super Big Gulp of Cherry Coca-Cola from 7-11. When he finally lets go, its clear he drank much more than Cunning did.
(Trevor) Good Gord. Do you have an esophagus or is your mouth connected directly to your stomach?
McJohnson doesn't answer. Rather, his face begins to turn slightly red, and he grabs his stomach.
(Trevor) Are you okay kid? You look worse than usual.
Brian makes a very pained face and doubles over…
(Brian) I don't… think so…
…and then yaks all over Trevor Cunning's boots! The spray action vomit covers Cunning's white wrestling boots with the precious Jack that was just consumed, as well as bagel and burger bits, and whatever other stomach contents Brian puked up.
(Trevor) Ah [beep]er! These are my good boots! [Beep]in' gross…
Cunning pulls at his hair before deciding to just take the envelope meant for his partner and walk away.
Brian McJohnson, meanwhile, wipes his face with the bottom of the t-shirt he's wearing, revealing his sizable gut and man boobs. He leaves behind smears of puke on the shirt when he finishes. Brian shakes off what just happened, takes another bite of his cheeseburger, and then walks off down the hallway… not even realizing Cunning made off with his delivery.
The camera zooms in on the puke, and we quickly fade out.
COMMERCIAL
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"I am Stephen Owens, and I approve of this message."
Payback!
We overlook the Saddledome Arena in Calgary... Alberta, Canada as we see various signs for the superstars of the NAFW. Some of them say, "Bring back Wilson," "TO THE XTREEEEEEEME!" and "Buchanan for President." The the lights go pitch black and a loud fiery explosion comes from the entranceway as "Walk with me in HELL" by Lamb of God begins to play over the PA. The music begins to build and we see 2 shadows emerging from the smoke. It is Peter Gilmour and Max Masterson. After what happened to them at the hands of Psycho and Carlos, they are lucky to even be walking down the ramp. But they do normally as both are in their street clothes. Peter is sporting a neck brace and a bandage on his forehead. Max has a big bandage that goes around his head. The fans are giving the demonic duo a mixed reaction as they enter the ring. Max asks for the microphone and gets it from the ring announcer. Peter is pacing around the ring as Max has a strange black bag laying next to him. Max brings the microphone to his lips and begins to speak.
(Max) Surprised to see us? Well, it's good to be in the home of the Calgary Flames.
Cheap pop from the crowd. Peter laughs wickedly.
(Max) Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot they didn't make the playoffs AGAIN this year.
Crowd begins to boo the duo heavily.
(Max) But this isn't about hockey. We are out here tonight to make a challenge to those 2 pieces of crap Carlos and his friend Psycho. Gentlemen, what you did to me and my monster Peter was one of the most disgusting and horrible things that the NAFW has ever seen. Not only did you give me a grade 2 concussion, you almost choked the life out of my friend Peter. It's time to put an end to this charade. So Peter has made the challenge for Breaking Point. He has challenged you Psycho, to a HANGMAN'S HORROR MATCH! The object of the match is simple. Hang your opponent over the top rope until he passes out. You want to try to hang Peter? Well, at Breaking Point, he is going to hang you. And Carlos, if you want to get into my business one more time, I would love to kick the shit out of you and put you in the hospital. We are both sick and tired of you running around acting like bitches because Peter beat Psycho in the hardcore match at Chain Reaction. He beat Psycho fair and square. Isn't that right my friend?
Peter finally takes the microphone from Max.
(Peter) Psycho, you just don't get it don't you? I beat your punk ass to a bloody pulp at Chain Reaction, then I kicked your ass even more in our tag match 2 weeks ago. Now you want to attack me after my match with Snake and try to end my life? Well, you didn't get the job done buddy! I am still breathing and at Breaking Point, I am going to take that straightjacket you love to wear, lock you in and beat the holy hell out of you. Then I'm going to choke your ass out. And I'm not going to let go, I am going to watch as those precious seconds of air deplete from your body and you die. One way or another, this feud is going to end. And I assure you that just like at Chain Reaction, I am going to make you bleed and I am going to beat you again and put you out your misery after Breaking Point. What you did to me and Max last week, is not going unpunished. You have made your bed and both you and your fuck buddy Carlos are going to lie in it. You have been charged and your sentence is DEATH! At Breaking Point, you meet your JUDGE, JURY, and GODDAMN EXECUTIONER! I am going to kill you for what you did to me and Max. Psycho, at Breaking Point, YOU WILL BE BROKEN!!
Peter slams the microphone to the floor as he says something that the camera can't pick up. Peter and Max do the "cutthroat taunt" as we fade to the back.
Quitting Time
We open in the back where Aarons is sitting with his back against the corner. The rooms barely lit, his face hasn't been cleaned up and Vanessa's nowhere in sight. He sits with his fingers just clutching the Lendo Stick, as he whistles a tune and is surprisingly...happy? Nonetheless, he sits as he looks up identifying the camera's presence as his lips form a bloody smile.
(The Reaper) I think a Doddtown Street Fight...just doesn't do this thing justice. I mean, I've got to be honest...Illtown's already beaten your ass once for a three count. Honestly, doing it again with the rulebook tossed out wouldn't really mean much to me personally. Really, it wouldn't. So that had me sit here and ask myself, in my entire career...what haven't I done? I've made many men tap, I've made many men lay out for a three second nap...there is one thing that just thinking about it...got me all tingly on the inside.
He gets to his feet, snarling just a little as a bloody smirk creases those lips of his.
(The Reaper) Quitting. I mean, tapping out is one thing...but to make a grown man say the words 'I Quit'...that means you own his soul. That means, simply put, you've beaten this man to the point where he recognizes quitting is the only thing that will save what's left of his measly existence. See Heatwave, instead of some match where pinning you or making you tap ends it...I want this to go for a while. All I want that ref out there to do is to hold the mic, so that when I call for it, you can tell the entire world...YOU QUIT. You quit trying to be me, you quit trying to beat me, you quit trying to convince the world you're better than me. That you are GREATER than me.
Beat.
(The Reaper) At Breaking Point, you hit yours in the most devastating fashion known to man. You come face to face with the one demon you haven't beaten, with a demon that was all but dormant until you unwittingly, woke it up. Breaking Point, you, me, I Quit match. That's it. That's how sick I am of you and this matter. You've taken in some way, shape, form or fashion everything from me I have worked very hard to earn or obtain. At Breaking Point, with your lovely family watching, it all comes back...but this isn't just about you little Husker. Oh no, see this is going out to the man who's sitting on a throne he's not quite cut out to sit in. Yeah Mikey, I mean you. Rather than do the obligatory 'you've got what's mine and I want it back' bit, all I ask you to do is park yourself in front of a television and watch what happens to Heatwave. Then, ask yourself this one question...
He gets right into the lens of the camera, for a rather forced closeup of his bloodied face.
(The Reaper) If I can do this to a man that burned me alive and tried on several different occasions to end my career, dare imagine what I'll do to you just to get that strap back? Breaking Point, Heatwave...you will quit. You will quit trying to pass yourself off as Illtown Junior with your music selection, you will quit telling the world how much of an evil bastard I am. Because when we get to Breaking Point, they will see it firsthand and they'll ask themselves the same thing I asked you a few weeks ago...
Beat.
(The Reaper) Why bring back someone who has done so much to you, just so I can do it again? At Breaking Point, they're gonna be able to build a moat ringside with the amount of blood that will flow in that ring. We're gonna paint the town a beautiful shade of crimson and in the end, you will be left lying broken, beaten and most of all...
Beat. Snarl.
(The Reaper) DEVASTATED!!!
The feed is cut as we cut back to ringside.
(JB) Oh my... It appears as if we won't be seeing a Doddtown Street Fight after all.
(Tom) Good, I couldn't stand the last one.
(JB) At Breaking Point, apparently based off of what has happened to this point, Aarons has challenged Heatwave to an I Quit match.
(Tom) Good, Aarons can quit and Heatwave can retire in peace knowing he made that Heatwave wannabe quit once and for all.
(JB) This is not going to be pretty ladies and gentlemen.
(Tom) Just like your mother!
Dustin Thomas vs. Shane Thomas
Special Guest Referee: Trevor Cunning (TT)
(JB) I'm looking at our schedule, and shouldn’t the Old School Empire be out here for their match, Bear?
(Tom) Relax, Mann-Wheel – this is traumatic for Shane and Dustin!
(JB) I’m sure that growing up together, they never fought even once.
(Tom) Not on national television in front of thousands, if not millions of people! Imagine what their poor mother must be going through.
(JB) You care about their mother?
(Tom) I care about your mother, too, Mann-Hole. Besides – I know what I put her through.
(JB) Why do I go there?
(Tom) Did you get the joke, Mann-Wagon?
(JB) Yes, Bear… I got the…
(Tom) I meant that I have sex with your mother.
(JB) Joke.
A siren hits the speakers and the word "EMPIRE" appears on the video screen.
The lights flash red and blue, as the camera pans around the arena. Lil' Wayne's "Fireman" starts playing. As the intro continues, the lights flash red to black to blue and back to black as a spotlight is focused on the curtain.
(JB) So where are Shane and Dustin?
(Tom) Hopefully, they’re refusing to come out in protest.
(JB) Great – then the Goods will get the match they rightfully deserve!
(Tom) Rightfully deserve? Last time I checked – Ammo’s shoulders were counted down last week!
(JB) So were Shane’s.
(Tom) Bah – details!
Shane and Dustin finally step through the curtain; and neither man looks particularly happy.
The Thomases eschew their traditional pre-match antics – no antagonizing the crowd, no trying to get pumped up for the upcoming fight. Dustin looks as if he’s going to a funeral rather than to the ring and Shane – Shane just looks pissed off.
(JB) I don’t feel bad for the Thomases at all.
(Tom) Why, Mann-Wheel? They’re obviously suffering!
(JB) Because for the first time in their careers, Bear – they’re being forced to earn their opportunities!
(Tom) What would you do if you had to fight your brother, Mann-Hole?
(JB) If it meant a chance at becoming a Tag Team Champion, Bear – I’d wrestle a good, clean, match –and let the best man win.
(Tom) You really think that’s going to happen?
(JB) No – knowing these two I fully expect a game of rock, paper, scissors – and then winner to simply put one finger on the loser’s chest.
They OSE enter the ring – but without a referee – they’re forced to languish in anticipation of the upcoming match.
(Tom) Where is my good buddy, Trev anyway?
(JB) Your “good buddy” is probably tying one on out back.
(Tom) Tying one what on what?
(JB) He’s probably getting drunk. Er. If we’re lucky – he’s passed out in the women’s locker room and won’t be able to referee tonight.
(Tom) Don’t be ridiculous, Mann-Hole.
(JB) How is that being ridiculous?
(Tom) We don’t have a women’s locker room. The NAFW is a fully accredited bro-neversity!
(JB) Bro-neversity?
(Tom) We’re all a