DEAD!
The guitars kick in, signaling the beginning of My Chemical Romance’s, “Dead!,” off their latest album “The Black Parade.”
The shot begins with Sean Thomas and Mike Lane, clad in their throwback replica tunics, standing shoulder to shoulder, arms folded, looking very much like Crockett and Tubbs from Miami Vice. From the NAFW Originals, we cut to Ron Barker, backlit and looking rather sleazy, making the universal “I want the title!” motion at his waist. Barker gives way to the Trust Fund Kids, Owens arrogantly looking over his shoulder and Cunning seated, slumped against a dark gray wall, drinking a beer.
Cut to Diamond Del Carver, Foundation Heavyweight Championship over his shoulder. He pats the title twice, and the camera zooms in on his face. Carver’s picture gets smaller and falls to the bottom of the screen in the center. He’s soon surrounded one by one by his challengers until we end with a tableau of the six faces.
I'll be there wondering
Did you get what you deserve?
The ending of your life
And if you get to Heaven
The Last Rites: Anointed With Blood logo bursts through the screen, leaving broken glass cascading down in a wipe to the ring.
Did you get what you deserve?
Andy D hits the Dragon’s Bite to pick up the victory over Jester Smiles. Heatwave pins Fox Strife after an impressive Inferno.
Quick camera pans of Andy D and Heatwave, the two superstars spin to face each other and the tableau freezes.
And if your life won't wait
Then your heart can't take this
ANDY D VS. HEATWAVE
No one ever had much nice to say
I think they never liked you anyway
We next see clips of the inaugural edition of Annihilation, where Charles Johnson took on Sebastian Hawke. While Johnson picked up the countout victory, he didn’t look great doing it. Hawke hits a huge Belly to Belly on the artist formally known as Tharodund, and then the camera pans to a shot of Johnson and Hawke standing back to back. The two spin to face each other and the tableau freezes.
SEBASTIAN HAWKE VS. CHARLES JOHNSON
Wouldn't it be grand?
Ainsley Lake and Jester Smiles have an odd, albeit mutually beneficial relationship. Ainsley gets amusement and Jester… well; he gets to hang around with Ainsley. We see clips of them goofing off in front of the same, darkened gray background we’ve seen in our previous tableau shots, and as soon as Ainsley jumps into Jester’s arms, the scene switches to the Old School Empire.
And wouldn't it be great
if we were dead?
Dead!
Shane Thomas tosses around jobbers like ragdolls. Lately, he’s been having success against everyone the OSE faces, including the Intruder. We see Shane applying the Alphalock to the Intruder, and then a montage of Alphalocks and Dustin hitting the Executor at house shows.
You never fell in love
Did you get what you deserve?
The ending of your life
We cut back to a split screen, where Dustin and Shane high five and bump chests. On the opposite side of the screen, Ainsley Lake and Jester Smiles make faces at the OSE. They turn to face each other, the screen freezes.
AINSELY LAKE AND JESTER SMILES VS. THE OLD SCHOOL EMPIRE
ONLY ONE OF THESE TEAMS WILL GO TO THREE WISHES
I'll be here waiting, babe
Did you get what you deserve?
The end.
The next shot is of Dwayne Bishop jumping the Reaper backstage, clobbering him with a boot and a chairshot, only to drop him with the Judgment. Bishop stands before the dark grey background, Vanessa dancing around him, mocking the Reaper.
Then your heart can't take this
The Reaper beats the crap out of Vanessa, smashing her skull into a television set... before walking off camera, onto the dark grey background. He and Bishop stare each other down, and the screen freezes.
DWAYNE BISHOP VS. THE REAPER LEONARD AARONS
DODDTOWN STREET FIGHT
No one ever had much nice to say
Mike Stryker is a natural champion. He’s held nearly every title the NAFW has to offer. We see a quick montage of Stryker winning the Intercontinental Championship, the Tag Team Titles, and the Atlantic Championship against the Reaper.
Oh take me from the hospital bed
Wouldn't it be grand
Hush, on the other hand, has only had two matches. Both ended in carnage… no pun intended. We see him hit the End of Eternity on both the Intruder and on Stryker. Hush appears on one half of the screen, holding his hands in the air and screaming with Essex behind him, face blanketed by a smile that would frightened the devil. Stryker kisses his title, the men turn to face each other and.… yep, the scene freezes.
And wouldn't it be great if
We were dead?
HUSH VS. MIKE STRYKER
THE WALKING NIGHTMARE BATTLES THE BIG CITY HITMAN
ATLANTIC CHAMPIONSHIP
During this operation
Found a complication
In your heart,
The images flicker rapidly, each one of Snake and Crazy Boy during good times. We see them hit a variety of high flying moves and tandem maneuvers during their days as the Wild Boys… and then Wilson rolls onto the screen.
Cause now you've got
Maybe just two weeks to live
We flash back to last years Death Wish, where Snake and Crazy successfully obtained the wish in contention. The next and final shot is of Snake turning on Crazy, walking out and leaving him all alone… Wilson under arm.
SNAKE VS. CRAZY BOY
GOOD FRIENDS, BETTER ENEMIES
WHO WILL WALK OUT WITH THE WISH?
Our final montage is of our Vote or Die competitors. We see Del Carver pinning Ron Barker and Del Carver, then flat on his back… right before the keg fell on his chest. Carver beats Cunning to the ring with a steel pipe, then the screen cuts to Cunning hits the Sobriety Test and pinning Del.
La la la la la,
La la la la la,
La la la la la,
La la la la la,
La la la la la,
Mike Lane’s Shadowkick is a maneuver to be feared. We see a SHADOWKICCCCCCKKKKKKK! montage, ending with a Shadowkick into a Sugar Rush combo. The next Sugar Rush depicted shows Sean Thomas winning the Foundation Heavyweight Championship.
If life ain't just a joke
Then why are we laughing?
Ain't just a joke
Keith Owens won the FHC at Chain Reaction. Mike Lane rode the Shadowkick to victory. Their respective victories cut to the show ending clusterfucks from the past two editions of Annihilation.
Ain't just a joke
Then why are we laughing?
One by one, we see profiles flash on the screen until all six men are on the screen looking in the center at the Foundation Heavyweight Championship.
SEAN THOMAS, MIKE LANE, KEITH OWENS, TREVOR CUNNING, RON BARKER, DIAMOND DEL CARVER
WHICH TWO MEN WILL GO TO THREE WISHES?
WHICH MAN WILL WALK OUT THE FOUNDATION HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION?
Then why am I dead?
Dead!
WHO WILL BE READ THEIR LAST RITES?
(JB) Ladies and Gentlemen, Lords and Ladies…
(Tom) Retards and Morons across the globe…
(JB) Thanks, Bear.
(Tom) No big deal.
(JB) I am JB Mann, it is December 31st 2006 and we are live from Chicago, Illinois, home of…
(Tom) The Difference Maker, Keith Owens!
(JB) And NAFW Last Rites: Anointed in Blood! We have one hell of a show for you tonight!
(Tom) Ladder match volleyball games, street fights taking place in cities no one has ever heard of…
(JB) Mike Stryker defending against the Walking Nightmare, Hush.
(Tom) And a NEW Foundation Heavyweight Champion!
(JB) I’m sure Del Carver will have something to say about that, Bear.
(Tom) Well, he hasn’t had much to say so far.
(JB) We’ll have all this for you plus the Vote or Die! Results… you voted in record numbers, fans and you have made one hell of a choice. But first, on this New Years Eve Pay Per View…
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.
(Troy) The following contest is a SINGLES match. Introducing first, Andy D!
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.
-You couldn't walk a mile off in my Air Forces-
-And you ain't seen what I've seen
-I can get a 100,000 in these Sean John jeans-
-I went from old school Chevy's to drop top Porches-
-And you ain't did what I did-
-If you from where I'm from you gotta get how you live-
The crowd instantly cheers at the chorus of the southern Hip-Hop song as the lights slowly start to dim and a bright spotlight shines at the entrance.
(Troy) Introducing next, he stands tall at SIX FEET and FOUR INCHES!
The bass starts to thump as the boos simply get louder.
(Troy) He weighs in at a solid TWO HUNDRED and SIXITY-SEVEN POUNDS!
-I hope you got yours I keep mine-
-In the club blowing dro throwing up gang signs-
-And you already know dog-
-745 back to back me and O dog-
-These other suckaz is jokers-
-What they rein up wit I spent it up all the strokers-
-In one night eight bitches sipped bottles of cris-
-Forty grand sit back so you can glance my wrist-
-Keep bread so we carry dem toaster-
-But keep back though my earrings ferocious-
-It's not just my imagination-
-I'm the one in the topic in yo conversation-
-Jack boyz say they gon rob-
-But on the real fuck suckaz y'all don't want these problems-
(Troy) He hails from the city of MIAMI, FLORIDA! He is….HEATWAVE!
Cheers erupt from the crowd as Heatwave comes bursting through the curtain, with a spotlight following his every move towards the ring. A large smile is on his face as he simply looks about the booing crowd. They hated him and it was just the way he liked it. He didn’t care if they jeer, or let alone cheered him. He was here to do a job and it so happened to be that he was very good at it. He slides underneath the bottom rope in nothing but street wear; consisting of a pair of black Nike track pants, pair of Carolina blue Nike Shox, and a pair black Nike batting gloves, as the lights start the brighten up.
-The Mack 11 make me walk wit a crazy dap-
-Y'all say we country suckaz yee-haw-
-The money comin back and forth like a seesaw-
-And y'all ain't never seen what we saw-
-Stacks of twenty dollar bills, bricks, or white rolls-
-What they got Lil Pha we don't care bout shit-
-Ludacris how they ride out twenty wit dem bricks-
-Shit I spit it for y'all-
-On the real my suckaz shit I spit it for y'all-
-Who gives a fuck about friends?-
-If you mix the baking soda wit it you can get a Benz-
-While y'all robbing and boosting-
-I'm standing over the stove like the chef in Houston-
-And it's not about the flip mane-
-Want the real bread it's all about your whip game-
Heatwave hops upon the middle turnbuckle of a corner of the ring and throws his fists in the air to the cheers from the crowd. But yet a wave of flashing bulbs shine over him as he hops down and makes his way towards the other turnbuckle. He hops down and approaches the center of the ring.
(JB) Looks like this match is about to get underway!
(Tom) ZzzzZzz….
And they are absolutely right. This singles match had just begun as the referee signaled for the bell. Now, Andy D and Heatwave were circling the ring, both men looking for an opportunity. It is easily noticeable how lighter on his feet than Heatwave that Andy D is.
Heatwave goes for Andy’s leg. As Heatwave dives downward, Andy places a foot into his back and hops over him, sending Heatwave into the bottom rope. As Andy twirls around to face Heatwave, Heatwave quickly pulls himself up to his feet. The crowd are laughing right now, egging on Andy D, which only pisses off ‘Wave.
(JB) Looks like Andy D is giving Heatwave a little piece of his mind.
(Tom) zzzZZzzzZzZzz….
Heatwave beckons Andy D on, so Andy D continues circling the ring to annoy him. Heatwave dips in to swing at Andy but catches air. Andy D lunges forward as if he’s about to run to Heatwave, but stops short two steps, jumping back quickly. Heatwave stomps his foot out of frustration and stands upright, yelling at Andy D, “C’mon!”
(JB) Looks like Andy D’s getting Heatwave visibly frustrated.
(Tom) Corn chips… ZzzzZzzz..ZZZZ…
Andy D then stops right at the ropes, leaning back against them. He turns to the crowd to play to them, throwing his hands up in the air, but they begin to boo, because they see Heatwave coming to strike him from behind! Heatwave clocks Andy D in the back and sends him in between the second and third ropes, right in front of the announce tables!
(Tom) Uhwhaha!? How’d Andy D get here?
(JB) I ought to smack the effa-livin out of you, Bear…
Andy D, holding his back in pain as he stands up, points to Heatwave out of anger. Heatwave is on the second turnbuckle now, playing to the crowd, while arguing with a few of Andy D’s fans in the front row. So Andy D runs down to the adjacent corner of the ring, hopping on the apron. He then steps into the ring and waits for Heatwave to notice he’s not outside the ring anymore. Once Heatwave catches on that the D’s missing, he then hops down right into a running dropkick! The slightly bigger man gets sent into the turnbuckles hard, but is only fazed slightly by D’s assault. Andy however, decides to follow it up with an irish whip to the other side of the ring.
(JB) And he’s sending Heatwave on a Cross Country Trip!
(Tom) Not just yet…
Indeed, not just yet. Heatwave pulls on Andy’s arm and reverses the irish whip into one of his own, sending Andy D into the turnbuckle, hard. He then follows it up with a shoulder tackle into Andy’s midsection while he’s in the corner. He grasps a hand full of Andy’s hair, pulling him away from the turnbuckle, before planting a kick into his midsection and hooking his arm for a suplex.
Andy D however, is a bit more alert than one would suspect. When Heatwave pulls him up for the suplex, he twists his body to face towards Heatwave and brings Heatwave down in a Reverse DDT!
(JB) What an amazing reversal!
(Tom) Aww, I’ve seen the Toiletries do better, Mann-Wagon.
Andy then heads out to the apron, ducking in between the ropes, and then launches himself back into the ring from the third rope, hitting a Body Splash onto Heatwave! He goes for the pin, hooking the leg, but Richie Howards can only give him the two count, as Heatwave gets the shoulder up quickly after two. Andy D nods in acceptance of his two count and drops a few quick elbows into Heatwave’s head.
(JB) Andy D is taking every opportunity that he can in this match.
(Tom) And he's still going to lose. Isn't that amazing?
Andy picks up Heatwave, positioning him for a move, but Heatwave rakes Andy's eye. As Andy turns away from Heatwave, Richard gives the ‘wave some lip service and he nods, and then capitalizes on Andy D by hitting him with a German Suplex! Heatwave then reaches down, grabbing Andy D by the throat and picking him up. He hoists him onto his shoulders, setting him up for a Death Valley Driver...
(JB) Amazing! Andy D just reversed it! He's got Heatwave in the Schoolboy!
(Tom) That wasn't amazing, Bear... That was cheap...
And Heatwave musters a kick-out right before the third hand comes down. Andy D is fired up at this point, as Heatwave is coming to his feet...
Andy D is rallying the crowd behind him at this point, with them mostly chanting his name. The underdog backs into a corner, waiting for Heatwave to come to his feet. Heatwave gets to one knee and Andy D takes off running at him!
(JB) Are you thinking what I’m thinking?
(Tom) I never am…
(JB) Dragon’s Bite!
That’s the plan…
BUT NO! Heatwave comes up with a stiff clothesline that floors Andy D, but Heatwave hits the floor as well, out of exhaustion. The referee watches the two, but Heatwave begins to stir immediately, pulling himself up by the ropes. In a few seconds he’s back up to his feet. Andy begins moving as well, but Heatwave is on top of him before he can get up, landing stiff kicks to his midsection. Heatwave pulls up Andy D’s head, locking in a stiff Chin Lock. Andy is wiggling trying to get out of the hold, but Heatwave just locks it in tighter. He pulls Andy to the middle of the ring, and pulls upward, adding pressure to the hold.
(Tom) Finally, tap and get this overwith.
(JB) You don’t seem too interested in this match do ya, Bear? Or are you just crabby tonight?
(Tom) Yeah, I think I caught something from Tyler’s Mom…
(JB) Who’s Tyler?
And Andy D begins fighting back, coming to his feet first. He lands a few blows to Heatwave’s midsection via the elbow, before finally hitting him with a stiff elbow to his ribs, forcing Heatwave to stumble back, right open for an ENZIGURI!
(JB) And both men are down again!
(Tom) Count them both out ref, c’mon!
The ref starts counting…1, both men are out cold. 2, Andy starts stirring first. 3, Heatwave gets a hand on the bottom rope. 4, Andy is on the second rope, somewhat on one knee. 5, Heatwave is on the second rope now…
(JB) Whoever gets up first, might just have this match in the bag!
(Tom) Yes! So it can end! Woooo hoooo!
(JB) Why are you an announcer if you don’t like wrestling?
(Tom) I like GOOD wrestling, Mann-itoba! This, I don’t know what this is?
D and Heatwave began brawling in the center of the ring, until the larger Heatwave battles D back into the corner. He irish-whips Andy into the ropes, kicks him in the midsection, and preps him for the Inferno.
Andy D elbows out, dropkicks Heatwave, and quickly scrambles to his feet. When Heatwave returns, Andy D hits a drop toehold. He bounces off the ropes opposite Heatwave and then… and then… wait for it… wait for it…
Still waiting.
(JB) Dragon’s Bite!!!!
(Tom) Something bites around here.
The three comes, but barely. Heatwave rolls out of the ring as Keep Yourself Alive II blasts over the Public Address. He looks around, as if expecting Jimmy Riley to be there for him, kicks the steel ring steps, and begins heading towards the back.
(JB) That was one hell of…
(Tom) A snooze fest?
(JB) What is with you tonight?
(Tom) I didn’t have a bad guy to root for like a stereotypical heel announcer. I was sort of out of my element during that last match.
Election Day
(JB) Well, fans this is the moment that many of you have been waiting for!
(Tom) Oooh… Oooh… you’re retiring?
(JB) Not quite, Bear. We’re about to find out who the winner of our online Vote or Die! polling is.
(Tom) Oh. After thinking about your retirement, I find that to be slightly underwhelming.
(JB) Have I ever told you how glad I am that we work together?
(Tom) Let’s cut to the back, where Amie Carmichael is waiting! She’s a hottie!
(Amie) Thanks, Tom. I’m here with NAFW Commissioner Ray Buchanan. Ray.
(Buchanan) Thanks, Amie. Over five hundred thousand fans voted in the largest turnout in NAFW History. Lets turn to the final voting results on the big screen.
(Buchanan) I’m not quite sure why, but with forty percent of the popular vote, the next number one contender for the Foundation Heavyweight Championship is…
(JB) Not…
(Buchanan) The Godfather Trevor Cunning.
(Tom) Woohoo!
(Amie) You sound surprised, Mister Buchanan.
(Buchanan) I am, Amie. Cunning is one Grade A, bonafide jackass. But I am an optimist, and I’m going to look on the bright side of things. Cunning and Del Carver have been at each other’s throats for weeks now. Their rivalry has lead to chaos and an utter disregard for the rules.
(Amie) That doesn’t sound so bright and sunny.
(Buchanan) It’s not. But with every cloud comes a silver lining. Tonight will be the final time that Trevor Cunning and Del Carver meet in an NAFW ring. They’re going to settle their differences once and for all.
(Amie) What do you mean?
(Buchanan) There will be no count outs. There will be no disqualifications!
(JB) Woah!
(Tom) He’s dead! Carver’s gonna die!
(Buchanan) There will be a winner.
Buchanan walks off screen, leaving the beautiful Amie Michaels by herself.
(Amie) What an announcement from Commissioner Buchanan! Rick Priestly is with Trevor Cunning, to get his reactions. Rick?
We cut to the locker rooms where the NAFW’s roving rotund reporter stands with one half of the Trust Fund Kids, the Godfather Trevor Cunning. Cunning, sporting a blood red polo atop a jet black polo and a pair of tattered, trendy jeans, has a shit eating grin plastered across his face.
(Trevor) Tell me something, tubby. How come I have to stand adjacent to your absurdly atrocious ass while Mistah Buchanan gets to be all buddy buddy with our blonde, bouncing big boobed beauty?
(Rick) Well…
(Trevor) It was a metaphorical question, Chunky Monkey. I realize you have bigger boobs than Amie. I highly doubt however, that you’d look better than she does in a tube top and a pair of daisy dukes, washing my BMW while I sit in the lawn in a kiddie pool, drinking a beer and asking you to bend over so I can catch just a hint of taint…
(Rick) Interesting.
(JB) Frightening.
(Tom) Oddly alluring.
(Rick) So what do you think about the Vote or Die results and Buchanan’s announcement Trev?
(Trevor) This moment is what Trevor Cunning has been waiting for since Trevor returned to the North American Foundation of Wrestling.
You see, Dick… many men have asked just why it is that I hate Delroy Carver with such a passion, just why I decided to single Carver out, try to take away his life and his career, and just why I decided to end his so called legend for good.
(Rick) That would be puzzling to many, yes.
(Trevor) When Delroy Carver appeared at my inaugural edition of Annihilation, the entire world rejoiced as if he was the second coming of Christ. This redneck in a denim tuxedo, this pirate masquerading in a good old boy’s clothes, was nothing when he showed up.
He appeared before the Foundation not once, but twice, and each time he ran away crying with his tail between his legs. The only reason Carver even made it past the first round of the Ultimate Showdown tournament is because I would rather have broken him in half then pin his shoulders to the mat. Which, I might add, I have also proven that I can do on multiple occasions.
I’ll give credit to Carver for persevering, for scraping the nasty yellow plaque of tainted success from the ever-growing closer jaws of death. He snuck by Keith, hung on to Spaz and Lane’s coattails to even make it to Last Rites in one piece, and even managed to grow some semblance of a spine.
You see, not many men have the will power, the chutzpah, the big, brass balls required to stand up to Trevor Cunning. Del Carver though, Del Carver has for once in his life decided that being a man is important. He didn’t run back to the Shit Project, or crawl down to hide in the Oh Pee Dubya Retirement Community.
Delroy Carver fought back and Delroy Carver lost. Repeat ad infinitum.
Tonight, however, we reach the end of infinity. Whether Carver is ready to once again turn and run from the Foundation, his fans and his friends alike gawking at the yellow stripe running down the back of his Wrangler Jeans jacket, or whether he wants rep the Foundation; his embarrassment growing like a cancer until the day he finally and thankfully falls over and friggin’ dies old, miserable and alone is irrelevant.
Ray Buchanan has just given Trevor Cunning the license to be as sadistic and violent as he damn well wants to be. By the end of the evening, the ring won’t just be anointed with Del Carver’s blood… the goddamn canvas will be soaked with it.
Carver’s reign as Foundation Heavyweight Champion ends tonight. His career ends tonight. So when you watch Del Carver walk to the ring tonight, Ricky Man-Titty, take a long, lingering look… for tonight will be the final time Delroy Carver will ever be seen in North American Foundation of Wrestling.
Cunning turns and walks off screen, presumably either to rink or prepare for his first Foundation Heavyweight Championship opportunity.
(JB) Cunning certainly looked intense.
(Rick) To be honest, I was kind of scared. I might be a big dude, but Trevor… well, let’s just say Cunning just reminded me of when Daddy used to come home from the bar after being laid off.
(Tom) Thanks for making the broadcast awkward Priestly.
(JB) Says the king of all inappropriate comments himself.
(Tom) I never talk about my parents beating me, Mann-Wagon; just me beat…
(JB) Let’s go to the ring for the second half of our Vote or Die! extravaganza.
The lights dim to nothingness, illuminating the arena in darkness. Many fans hold up their celluar phones to light up the United Center.
(Tom) Hey, who turned out the lights?
Two spotlights begins circling the arena. One is tinted red, and the other gold. They pan around the crowd, and after a few seconds a voice permeates the air.
For a Sugar Rush?
BOOOOOOOM!!!!!!!!!!!!!
(Tom) ... Good Gord!
Audioslave's "Cochise" hits the speakers as the wall of pyro fades down from the entrance way. Mike Lane and Spaz appear through the curtain, and the crowd goes bananas. The throwback NAFW jersey's (currently being sold at a NAFW Merchandise retailer near you) are both being sported by these two men that many are figuring to represent a bygone era of the company.
(JB) These two men have something to prove here tonight.
(Tom) That they can shill better than anyone? Cunning already proved them inferior at that.
Lane and Spaz climb into the ring, and go to opposite corners, getting to their feet, and indulging in the crowd's love.
(JB) They are going to show the people how things are supposed to be done. Not through smear campaigns or by buying what they need.
(Tom) Whatever, Mann-wich. They just are sad that they weren't voted in.
Lane pulls off his jersey, and the duo stand waiting for their opponents.
Cruci-fiction in Space by Marilyn Manson starts to play, and the fans cheers instantly turn to deafening jeers. Ron Barker emerges into the aisle, decked out in standard black tights and black boots. As per usual, the stoic Barker has no expression on his face as he calmly saunters up the aisle and climbs into the ring.
(JB) Barker looks pissed.
(Tom) Wouldn't you be, Mann-Wagon, if you were expecting to wrestle for the Foundation Heavyweight Championship.
(JB) Well, Barker still has an opportunity to qualify for Three Wishes at Death Wish!
(Tom) That’s like going out on a date, expecting to go out on a date, and ending up with a reach…
(JB) Anyways.
(Tom) Here’s my hero!
(JB) You’re worse than Kramer ever was with Chronic.
(Tom) Don’t EVER compare me to that big idiot.
(JB) Chronic?
(Tom) I hate you.
“Its All About The Benjamins” rock remix hits the speakers and everybody in the arena is ready for who is about to step through those curtains. Melissa Hayes steps through first and stands slightly to the right hand side of the stage. She holds out her arms as if to present someone. Moments later, another person steps through and stands in the middle of the stage.
(Tom) Yowza! She’s a hottie!
A spotlight shines down in the middle on him, and of course it’s none other than Keith Owens. This signals a shower of golden sparks from the rafters down below onto the ramp. Keiths arms look a bit empty without the Foundation gold in them. Melissa grabs a hold of his arm and the two of them make their way down the ring, largely ignoring the many fans booing them and giving them a hard time. At the bottom of the ramp, Melissa breaks away and heads up the ring steps first. She sits on the middle rope in a seductive matter, holding it open for Keith who follows a short distance behind her before entering himself.
(JB) Barker and Owens don’t seem too happy with each other.
(Tom) They’re just luring Mickey and Pez into a false sense of security, Mann-Wheel.
Spaz and Lane do a paper, rock, scissors, which leaves Lane as the winner, and the man starting this match out. Barker and Owens are not quite as united, seeing as Keith just gets on the apron, and gestures to Barker to get on with it.
(JB) Looks like your dream team isn't on the same page.
(Tom) Just wait, they'll prevail.
Barker and Lane walk to the center of the ring, and lock up. They jockey for a moment, but Barker breaks the hold, and delivers a thumb to the eye of the Superstar. Lane staggers back, and Barker charges him. Lane steps aside at the last moment, and delivers an arm drag. Ron lands on his feet, hits the ropes, and comes back. Once more, Mike steps aside, and drop toe holds Barker to the mat. He floats over, and administers a headlock. Barker stands to his feet, while Lane holds on to the move. A few elbows to the side, and Lane is sent to the ropes. The stalemate is ended quickly when Owens nails Lane in the back of the head with a forearm from the apron.
(Tom) What did I tell ya, they are working together!
The Superstar falls to the mat, and Barker is on him instantly, dropping knees into the shoulder area. Official James Elbourn admonishes Owens for not holding the tag rope, while Lane holds on to the ropes in vain, Barker laying in with shots. Elbourn turns to see the blatant disregard for the roles, and begins giving Ron Barker the five count. Barker doesn't heed it, so Elbourn steps in, and pulls Barker off, but Barker shoves the ref off. Using the moment's rest, Lane connects his forearm with the Barker family jewels. Elbourn pretends not to have seen it, as Barker falls to his knees.
(Tom) Shenanigans!!!!
(JB) All's fair!
Barker is whipped to the Originals' corner, and Lane follows him in, connecting with a vicious clothesline. Barker staggers out of the corner, as Lane tags in Spaz. The Candy Man ascends to the top rope, and leaps off, bulldogging Barker to the mat. Spaz gets to his feet, and raises his arms up. The crowd goes wild, and Lane begins to lead a chant of "Go Spaz Go." Barker rolls on the mat for a moment, before standing to his feet. Spaz is right there to Russian Leg Sweep him to the mat.
(JB) There's a lot of history between these two men.
(Tom) Yeah, too bad Spaz is playing to the crowd instead of kicking his ass.
(JB) Looks to me like Spaz has Barker right where he wants him.
Spaz hooks the leg, and goes for a quick cover, but Barker gets his shoulder up at two. Spaz gets to his feet, and leg drops Barker, going for a second cover. Barker gets up at two again. The longtime NAFW superstar runs to the corner, and goes to the top rope. He signals to the people, and turns his back. He leaps off for the Sweetsault, but Barker moves out of the way. Spaz gets nothing but the canvas, as Barker gains his breath on the mat.
(JB) Big risks can net big reward... or big loss.
(Tom) You can say that again.
Both men get to their feet at the same time, and Spaz charges for the clothesline. Barker slips under his arm, and launches the former FHC across the ring with a release German suplex. Barker drops a knee to the back of Spaz, and then follows up with an elbow drop. He grabs the legs of the Candy Man and locks on a Boston crab. He wrenches it in, and Spaz reaches for the ropes, only to find that he's not quite able to reach the nearest one.
(Tom) Ring the bell now, Elbourn! It's over. Spaz is done!
(JB) You can never underestimate this man, Bear. He never gives up.
On the apron, a now refreshed Mike Lane begins to pump up the crowd, renewing the "Go Spaz Go" chants. Ron yells for the fans to shut up, while pulling back on the hold. Spaz tries to push up in the hold, but falls back to the mat. He reaches for the ropes again, and fails. The crowd's intensity increases, and Spaz is able to claw the last inches to grab the ropes. Barker once again holds on until James Elbourn has to pull him off of Spaz. This is a big match, and there's not going to be a DQ for something like this. Spaz gets to his feet, and Owens once more leaves the corner to nail the Candy Man in the back of the head.
(Tom) Yeah! Teamwork!
(JB) I haven't seen Owens tag into this match yet.
(Tom) He's letting Barker get his personal issue out of the way.
Barker flips off Lane, drawing the Superstar into the ring. James Elbourn leaps into his path, and holds him back. Barker drapes Spaz's neck on the ropes, and leaps on Spaz's back, driving the neck of the Candy Man into the steel cable. Lane finally agrees to get on the apron again, while Barker pulls Spaz to the middle of the ring. He whips him into the heel corner, and and follows Spaz in with a knee. He reaches for the tag from Owens, but gets nothing. He looks over, and Keith is not even standing on the apron. He is sitting on the steel steps, schmoozing with Melissa Hayes.
(JB) There's that teamwork.
(Tom) Keith just needs a little pick me up before he gets in there.
Barker shakes his head, and fires off with a right hand. Spaz blocks it, and lets loose with a flurry of attacks to Barker, who recoils to the middle of the ring. Owens climbs back up on the apron to watch the action. Spaz caps off his flurry with the Spaz Out. Both men hit the mat, done. They each begin to crawl for their corners. Barker reaches his corner first, but Owens has dropped to the floor, where he's tying his boot on the steel steps, with Hayes apparently having to aid him. Barker drops to mat, and rolls to the outside. Spaz tags in Lane, and the crowd goes wild, but there's no one for the Superstar to fight.
(JB) Owens' is running like a scalded dog.
(Tom) You've been waiting all night to say that, haven't you?
Barker pushes Owens, and yells at him, wanting to know where his head is at. Owens smirks in his face, and Barker tells Owens to get on the apron and take his tag. Owens nods silently, and climbs up on the apron. Barker slides into the ring, where he meets Lane's foot head on. Lane picks up Barker and whips him into the ropes. Lane stomps one foot and the crowd goes wild. As Barker comes at him, Lane charges up, and leaps forward with the Shadow Kick, but Barker slides to the mat, and ducks under it. He low blows Lane, and leaps for his corner.
(Tom) Get the tag, Ron!
But Owens is already in the ring. He can't accept the tag, and he just stares down at Barker. He smiles in his partner's face, and then delivers a kick to the midsection of Barker. To the surprise of everyone, Owens then follows up with the Difference Maker, laying Barker out. Owens leaps from the ring, and leads Melissa Hayes back up the ramp, and out of the arena while everyone watches in surprise.
(Tom) What the hell??
(JB) Owens just turned on his partner!
Barker is laid out on the mat, but it's not over yet! Mike Lane gets the crowd pumped up, as he stomps his foot on the mat. The crowd is on their feet, as Barker tries to use the ropes to pick himself up. Ron falls back to the mat, and Lane pumps up the crowd yet again. Finally, Barker is able to crawl to his feet. He turns around, and Lane charges across the ring...
SHADOW KICK
(JB) There it is!
Barker goes down, and Lane looks over at his friend and tag team partner. He grabs Barker, and drags him to the middle of the ring, before walking over to the corner, and with theatrical swagger, he slaps his partner's hand, to tag in the Candy Man.
(Tom) This isn't fair.
Spaz ascends to the top rope, and signals to the people. Lane points down at Barker, and Spaz leaps off with the Sweetsault. This time it connects, and James Elbourn slides into place.
(JB) Here comes the count.
Elbourn's hand hits the mat once... twice... and thrice!
(JB) The NAFW Originals win!!
Spaz looks down at Barker, realizing that he's gotten the last laugh in their rivalry, and then stands to his feet. Lane slaps his hand, and they head to the corners to climb the turnbuckles and indulge in the adoration of the crowd. Barker slides to the outside of the ring, and just lays there for a moment.
(Tom) I... I don't understand.
(JB) Fans, I don't understand what has happened here tonight, but all I know is that Mike Lane and Spaz have solidified themselves as a force in the tag team division.
(Tom) I... I... what happened?
Lane and Spaz celebrate, as the fans go wild. Ron Barker is still laid out on the outside.
(JB) Ladies and gentlemen, what a match!
(Tom) I’m rather disappointed to be honest. I didn’t get to see enough of my main man, Keith Owens.
(JB) Speaking of Owens, we’ve got Rick Priestly standing in back with the former Foundation Heavyweight Champ. Rick?
Walking and Talking
We cut to the back where Keith Owens and Melissa Hayes are walking towards the locker room. Priestly is jogging, trying to catch up with the pair.
(Rick) KEITH!
Owens turns around, and Priestly finally catches up. He bends at the midsection, hands on his knees.
(Rick) Ke…
Out of breath, Priestly holds up a finger to ask for a minute to catch his breath. He starts weezing.
(Rick) Ke…
Owens looks at Hayes, and then stares at Priestly incredulously. He folds his arms and shakes his head, trying hard not to get angry.
(Rick) Keith… Why… did you walk out on… Ron Barker…
Owens’s eyes open wide as a scowl forms on his face.
(Keith) I think the better question, Dick, is why Ron Barker decided to walk out on Keith Owens.
(Rick) What does that mean?
(Keith) You’ll find out, soon enough.
(Rick) Well, then what do you think of your best friend Trevor Cunning receiving the Foundation Heavyweight Championship opportunity tonight instead of you?
Owens just looks through Priestly, cold and unwavering. He turns and walks away, Melissa following at his heels.
(Rick) Keith? Keith!
Owens disappears in the distance.
(Tom) Run after him Priestly!
(Rick) You run after him.
(Tom) Your mom runs after him.
(JB) That didn’t make any sense.
(Rick) I need a Clark Bar. JB?
(JB) Thanks Rick.
(Tom) What are you thanking him for, he didn’t find anything out?
(JB) We'll, we're about to find out who the better man is between Charles Johnson and Sebastian Hawke! They've fought once, with Johnson taking the countout victory...
(Tom) Lame!
(JB) Now, tonight, hopefully we'll have a definitive winner.
“Miseria Cantare” by AFI slowly fades onto the arena’s sound system. The low music continues to play as various pictures, and small clips of Johnson’s career flashes over the Tron. When the first bit of vocals are heard, Charles walks out on the ramp looking down at the ring, standing still for a few moments to take in the crowd's adamant cheers and the ambiance of the moment.
(Gilmore): Introducing first, standing in at 6-feet-and-8-inches tall, weighing in at 297 lbs., (CHARLES JOHNSON!).
The cameras then flip from displaying ring announcer Troy Gilmore over towards the commentating desk where we rejoin JB and Tom.
(JB): Here's our first competitor tonight, in our first contest of what may just very well go down as the greatest Last Rites in NAFW's history!
(Tom): God, could you possibly be any more obnoxious!? I mean it's only five minutes in, and you're already going on and on about "firsts"!
(JB): Well, I'll tell you something folks, this ain't the first time I've made my commentating partner agitated before-...
(Tom): And I bet you're loving it.
(JB): Damn skippy, I am.
Charles Johnson Making his way down to the ring he walks up the ring steps, and into the ring. Bouncing around the ring before focusing in on the match ahead. The last big of the song fades as he awaits his opponent for the evening.
It ends up being a short wait as "I'm The One" by Static - X begins blasting out the speakers of the NAFW-Tron, as Sebastian Hawke walks out onto the stage, underneath the NAFW-Tron itself. He adjusts his wrist tape before looking out to the crowd.
(Gilmore): Introducing second, standing in at 6-feet-and-3-inches tall, weighing in at 285 lbs., and hailing from Dallas, Texas, he is (SEBASTIAN HAWKE!).
(Tom): I just noticed something, Mann-wagon.
(JB): That that unsightly wart on your wrist is buldging?
(Tom): No-... Wait. It is? Damn, I thought that freezing stuff I bought at the pharmacy worked-... Bur seriously, Man-wheel, didja notice that ol' CJ wasn't introduced as from anywhere?
(JB): Well... On the site he's listed as from Gulfport.
(Tom): Gulfport... where?
(JB): No clue, buddy, no clue.
(Tom): I bet you he's living a double life!
(JB): Wha-what?
Sebastian Hawke, meanwhile, continues to slowly walk down the ramp to the ring, staring at the ring, and at his opponent for the evening, as he does. He passes by a few fans, who are waving their hands at him trying to get a high-five, but he ignores them, as he walks down to the ring. He comes up to the apron, walking over to the stairs and escalating them. He walks along the apron, facing the crowd as he stares out at them, before turning around to get into the ring. Being met by Charles Johnson immediately at the center of the ring.
(JB): The heat between these two men has reached a whole new level!
(Tom): If those two were any closer right now, CJ's nose'd be eating Sebastian's!
(JB): Noses... don't have... mouths?
(Tom): BUT THEY DO HAVE CAVITIES! HAH HAH HAH!
(JB): ...Cute, real cute.
Referee Dave Connors calls for the bell as the two men stand, mere millimeters apart, jawjacking face-to-face, just as Sebastian Hawke rears back and launches a right hand aimed right at Charles' face. Johnson takes the headshot and replies with one of his own, sending Hawke back a few feet. Hawke retaliates with a left of his own, and CJ is pleased to strike him right back. The two men stand there, trading lefts and rights with one another, to the pleasure of the vocal crowd around them.
(JB): This match is off to an explosive start!
The exhange of punches continues for another few moments until CJ tosses up his left forearm to block Sebastian's next right jab. CJ uses the opening to connect with a body blow to Sebastian's gut, and he then takes his right arm and irish whips Hawke into the ropes, welcoming him back with a thunderous spinebuster. CJ then floated over to make the cover.
(JB): Could it be over already!?
(Tom): What!? I just started to make this sandwich!
ONE!
TWO!
KICKOUT!
The ever-resilient Hawke kicks out of the devastating maneuver made even more damaging due to the 5-inch height disparaty. As Charles Johnson checks with the ref about the count, Hawke slowly crawls up to his knees, holding his back.
(JB): We have here possibly two of the most promising stars in the NAFW, clashing one against the other over pride and honor, and you're making a SANDWICH!?!?
(Tom): You betcha, Mann-wheel, it's gonna be a long night and I intend to be full... That's why I brought this here sack lunch with me-...
(JB): Did your mother make-... Damnit, now why did I-...
(Tom): No, YOURS did.
(JB): AUGH! You ALWAYS get me with that!
Charles Johnson continues the assault on Sebastian Hawke by picking him up and shoving him into the turnbuckle. Grabbing ahold of the middle ropes, CJ begins to violently thrust his shoulder deep into Sebastian's midsection, causing the young star to heave and gasp for air after every blow.
(JB) It's all business for Charles Johnson here tonight.
(Tom) It's all pleasure for me.
(JB) Enjoying the match?
(Tom) No, your mother. And my sandwich.
Phil Redding tries to pull Johnson away, giving Hawke the opportunity to recover. Sebastian turns the tables on CJ, tossing rights into Johnson's skull. When Redding tries to play things by the book and stop Hawke, CJ goes to Hawke's eyes. Johnson climbs to the second rope and hits a flying shoulder tackle. He covers for two.
CJ pulls Hawke up and irish-whips him. Hawke reverses, and back body drops CJ on the return. One lariat, leads to another, and Hawke grabs the ropes, shaking them, trying to get a second wind. CJ charges in, and Hawke belly to belly suplexes Johnson over the ropes.
(Tom) Here we go again.
Hawke is the first up, and tosses CJ into the steel ring steps. He pulls Johnson up and tosses him skull first into the steel ring pole before rolling him inside the ring. Hawke enters himself, and covers for two. An exploder suplex also gets two.
He then sets Johnson up in the corner, looking for a superplex. Johnson blocks, pushes Hawke off, and hits a Superfly Splash. That gets two.
(JB) Uncharacteristic of CJ...
(Tom) Yeah, usually big Johnsons dont fall out of the sky.
Johnson pulls Hawke to a vertical base, irish whips him, and hits a spinebuster. He covers for two. Johnson pulls Hawke to his feet, sets him up for a piledriver, but suddenly, Hawke stands up. He slams Johnson down with a modified spinebuster.
(Tom) RECOIL!
(JB) That came out of nowhere!
“Superstar II" by Saliva begins rumbling through the arena as the lights temporarily go out in the ring. Two huge spotlights come down on the entrance ramp, as Jeremy Lewis, with Desyree at his side, walks out onto the stage, his hand raised up into the air at the crowd, who are stone cold silent in confusion. They makes their way down to the ring, playing to the crowd as they do, waving to them and pointing cockily at certain crowd members.
(Tom) Holy balls!
(JB) Jeremy Lewis is back!
(Tom) Diamond, J.L., the Zodiac Cyborg or JDJ Lewis?
(JB) C’mon, Bear. Be serious.
(Tom) I am. The man has had more original gimmicks than the entire SHOOT roster put together.
Zing.
Hawke is distracted by Lewis arrival, unable to take advantage of the Recoil. By the time he covers CJ, he only gets two. Lewis hops up on the apron as Desyree slides a steel chair into the ring. Hawke sees the chair, sees Lewis, and goes to argue with J.L..
CJ takes this opportunity to roll Hawke up for two.
(Tom) Is Lewis trying to help Hawke?
(JB) It would appear so.
(Tom) He’s doing a horrible job.
(JB) It would appear so.
Hawke springs up, knocking CJ back to the mat with a heavy lariat. He walks over to kick the chair out of the ring, only for Lewis to slide another back in. When Hawke sees this, he picks up this chair and tosses it at J.L.
Johnson, meanwhile, has recovered, and charges Hawke. Sebastian scoops up Johnson, looking for another Recoil, but the pair is too close to the ropes. CJ grabs the top rope and pulls himself off of Hawke’s back, pushing Sebastian forward into Phil Redding.
CJ goes to attack Hawke, but he’s cut off by Jeremy Lewis, who nails CJ in the back with a steel chair.
(Tom) That was more effective.
(JB) I don’t think Hawke appreciates it though.
Sebastian begins to argue with J.L., telling him to leave. J.L. surprisingly agrees to leave, turns around and heads towards the ramp.
Sebastian Hawke turns around towards the referee and tries to wake him up. Before he does, Lewis runs back into the ring, smacks Hawke over the head with a steel chair and drags him on top of CJ, then wakes up the referee and leaves.
Redding crawls over, and counts the three.
(JB) Oh come on! Now this resolves nothing!
(Tom) Well, it resolves… nope, nothing.
(JB) Why is Jeremy Lewis even here? Does he want Hawke to succeed or is he looking to take Hawke out?
(Tom) We’ll see.
(JB) Indeed.
Wild Words?
(Snake) Tyrone!
Snake opens up this segment, obviously already hyped up for his match. I mean, think about it...Who wouldn't want the chance to tear your former best friend limb from limb.
(Snake) Tonight's the night we see which one of us is a true Wild Boy...Tonight, we get the chance to tear one another limb from limb and put each other through hell...
Okay...Maybe a little too hyped up...If that's even possible...
(Snake) Wilson and I are going to prove that we don't need you in our corner to win matches or gold. Tonight, we're going to prove that we was right all along when we end your pathetic and greedy career once and for all!
With that, Snake walks off as the scene fades.
(JB) The Old School Empire is looking to finally…
(Tom) Finally… heh.
(JB) What’s so funny?
(Tom) They lose a lot… heh.
(JB) What are you, eleven?
(Tom) Inches, yes.
(JB) As I was saying, the Old School Empire is looking to finally build up some momentum, and they just might have that opportunity against the makeshift team of Jester Smiles and Ainsley Lake.
(Tom) Who knows if Ainsley will even show up tonight?
(JB) What are you talking about, Bear?
(Tom) You didn’t hear, Mann-Wagon? Ainsley Lake was injured while training earlier this week, and it doesn't look like she's coming back!'
(JB) Who did you hear that from?
(Tom) I have my sources!
(JB) Wrestling Poop Shoot dot Com?
(Tom) Inside sources. Mann-Hole. I do work for the company you know.
As the "Entry of the Gladiators" kicks up, the lights begin to flash with green and purple. About 8 seconds in, Jester walks out from the back, looking down at the ground. As the main chorus line kicks in, Eric looks up into the sky suddenly, throws his arms out with his hands balled into a fist, and screams "BOOYA!" into the sky, which is followed by two green pyros going off. He then dances his way down to the ring, high-fiving the fans, looking as goofy and ridiculous as possible.
(Tom) I don’t know why this chucklehead is so, damn happy.
(JB) He’s good-natured; Bear… unlike some of us who shall remain nameless.
(Tom) Quiet you. It’s obvious that Smiley there is a loser. He gets his ass beat in the ring, and then can’t get anywhere in the bedroom.
(JB) There’s nothing wrong with a platonic relationship between two friends.
(Tom) Yeah, well I’m sure Jester won’t be smiling when he finds out that Ainsley Lake tried to bang the commissioner's dad, and she got fired.
Upon reaching the the apron, he leaps up onto the ring apron in one jump, grabs hold of the top ropes, and bends backward, again screaming "BOOYA!". He then gets in the ring and begins to taunt to the crowd on two opposing turnbuckles.
(Tom) What a loser. He’s a more losing loser than when Demonfire lost to X-Cold… or when Paul Colard lost to X-Cold. Or when…
(JB) Now, Jester Smiles has had some bad luck, Bear, but I think with Ainsley Lake in his corner, he’ll be more than motivated to turn it around.
(Tom) Weren’t you listening to me, Mann-Wheel? Twitch told Bryan McJohnson who told Gillian Narcotica-Ruiz-Santos-Smith-Halifax, who sent an e-mail to Allan Palmer who asked Zangief to tell X-Cold to tell the Fabulous Cosmo to tell me that Ainsley’s Aunt Gertrude died, and she hopped a flight back to Timbuktu for the funeral. Supposedly, Ainsley was really broken up about it, so who knows when she’ll be back.
(JB) What the hell did you just say?
(Tom) That’s classic Gillian right there.
(JB) I thought you said Ainsley was injured?
(Tom) The details aren’t important Mann-Wagon! Long story short, Ainsley Lake ain’t going to be here.
"Kiss Me Deadly,” as covered by Reel Big Fish, starts to play over the speaker system. Ainsley Lake comes jogging out, her mouth moving to sing along to the lyrics, her smile bright. She does a front flip, before starting to jog again. She high fives the people in the crowd, speeding up and swinging herself into the ring from the ropes. She does a backflip once she gets into the ring, blowing kisses to the fans when she stands up, waiting in her corner impatiently for the match to start.
(JB) She’s not?
(Tom) I see her, I see her… But the rumor was that a mafia hit man killed Ainsley Lake, because she had lesbian lady-sex with the don's daughter!
(JB) So TomWorth’s coming back now?
(Tom) No, he didn’t kill people remember; just hit them with a pole vault stub.
(JB) See, that never made sense to me. Much like that rumor, which is an unmitigated lie. Ainley’s straight. She was linked to Diamond Del Carver and now, who knows what her relationship with Jester Smiles is!
(Tom) Considering Jester spends all his time on his back in the ring, who knows if he’s been pinned by Ainsley or not?
(JB) Jester actually suffered his first loss in the NAFW at the hands of Ainsley Lake, which in an odd way began his infatuation with her.
(Tom) I was using pinning as a euphemism for sex, Mann-Chowder. Like I give a crap about what these two do in the ring.
(JB) For someone who doesn’t give a crap, you sure are talking an awful lot about these rumors.
(Tom) Hey, when I'm told that Ainsley Lake went into a witness protection program, it’s my duty as a journalist to report the story.
(JB) Even if you know they’re not true?
(Tom) Hey, I only said that I was a journalist. I never said a damn thing about having any journalistic integrity.
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 spot light is focused on the curtain. The song kicks in and Dustin Thomas blows through the entry way, his hand pointed towards the stage. New School points up, and Shane comes out of the curtain, all oiled up and ready to go.
(JB) Now here’s a team that’s been on a role as of late.
(Tom) Wow, beating up college kids. That takes real skill.
(JB) Well, that Kaleb was asking for it. He’s an assbag.
(Tom) Did you just call someone an assbag, Mann-Hole? I’m impressed.
(JB) Thanks, Bear. I think.
(Tom) Do you know who else is an assbag? Mann-Atee?
(JB) What did I do now?
(Tom) Ainsley Lake's an assbag and she quit. She's a total fuckhole.'
(JB) Will you stop already? Ainsley did not quit.
(Tom) That’s right, after asking for too much money, Ainsley Lake was let go.
(JB) …
(Tom) What?
(JB) Ainsley Lake is not dead, fired, quitting, injured or in Timbuktu. She is not the lesbian lover of a mafia don’s daughter, Ray Buchanan’s new mother in law, an assbag or a fuckhole. She is simply here to compete for a spot in Three Wishes with Jester Smiles!
Christ.
(Tom) Have you ever considered Paxil?
Dustin taunts the fans as he walks down the aisle, while Shane takes every opportunity to get in his bodybuilder poses. When he reaches the bottom of the ramp, the Alpha flexes his biceps and points his toe, much to the hatred of the fans. Dustin slides into the ring, and leaps up to the turnbuckle to soak in the jeers. The Alpha hops up the steps, and climbs into the ring. He looks around the arena before stepping between the ropes. Dustin pats him on the back one more time before Shane makes his finale pose in the middle of the ring.
(Tom) I don’t remember the fans hating the Old School Empire so much. Then again, I don’t remember much when I drink.
(JB) I thought you were on step seven.
(Tom) Don’t judge me, Mann-Wagon.
(JB) Looks like it’s going to be Dustin, starting off with Miss Ainsley Lake.
(Tom) I could’ve sworn she was going to Singapore to join an underground pit fighting competition with the fate of the world at stake.
(JB) That’s the plot to Mortal Kombat, Bear.
(Tom) So there’s no big, black dude with metal arms?
(JB) Nope.
(Tom) Having metal arms would be awesome.
Dustin and Ainsley lock up in the center of the ring, collar and elbow style. Dustin sneaks behind Ainsley, she reverses with a go around, and a second leaves the younger Thomas brother behind the NAFW’s resident Femme Fatale.
How does Dustin repay this show of technical prowess by Miss Ainsley Lake? He grabs her waist and starts grinding her like he’s at a high school semi-formal, before slapping her ass and walking away.
(JB) That’s uncalled for!
(Tom) Great, now Ainsley’s going to quit and sue the entire damn company for sexual harassment. How do you feel about working for a woman, Mann-Chowder?
Ainsley goes back to the center of the ring and demands a second lockup. Dustin smirks, shrugs, and complies. Once in the lockup, Lake drops to her knee and takes Dustin over with a fireman’s carry. Once he regains his feet, she takes him back down with an arm drag. A second arm drag follows and Shane scrambles to a vertical base. Ainsley swings, going low, and grabbing Dustin in a testicular claw. She slaps him, and Dustin bails into his corner, manhood in hand.
(Tom) Now that’s uncalled for!
(JB) All’s fair in love and wrestling!
(Tom) That’s not wrestling, and I doubt Dustin’s in love right now.
The Alpha tags in, stepping up to face Ainsley Lake. Ever chivalrous, Smiles asks for the tag, but Ainsley declines, deciding instead to take on the Alpha herself. She attempts a lockup with the Alpha, but Shane simply pushes her away. She hits her head hard on the back of the canvas. Attempting a different tactic, Ainsley bounces off the ropes and tries a running dropkick.
The Alpha merely swats her away. She climbs back to her knees, and Shane Thomas flexes, growling in her face.
(Tom) That’s why he’s called the Alpha!
(JB) Ainsley seems to think discretion is the better part of valor, and has made the tag to Jester Smiles.
(Tom) Speaking of the clap…
(JB) I never said anything about the clap.
(Tom) You said tag, and the sound a tag makes is a clap, is it not?
(JB) I guess…
(Tom) As I was saying: Speaking of the clap… I heard that after that night Jester spent at Ainsley Lake’s place…
(JB) I’m not going to let you finish that sentence.
(Tom) Well, you can read all about it on Wrestling Poop Shoot dot Com.
Smiles steps in to face the Alpha; circling his opponent, not quite sure where to begin. Without warning, he lunges forward with a forearm to the Alpha’s jaw. He doesn’t stagger Shane, who proceeds to club Jester Smiles in the chest before irish-whipping him across the ring. Smiles somersaults between Alpha’s legs on the return as he tries for a lariat, hits the ropes on the rebound, and goes low, taking out Shane’s knee with a low dropkick.
(JB) Smart move! Take the big man’s knees and his vertical base away, and you take away his power.
(Tom) Token cliché… blah blah blah. Get some new material Mann-of LeMancha.
(JB) This… coming from the man of many mother jokes.
(Tom) At least I make people laugh.
(JB) At you. Not with you.
A second dropkick to the left knee brings Shane down to his knees. Smiles takes this opportunity to hit the ropes and stagger the Alpha with a dropkick to the chest. Shane Thomas hits his back for the first time in the match, and Jester Smiles refuses to give him an inch of breathing room. He wraps his legs around Shane’s right arm, looking for a La Magistral roll up. He gets a two count.
Shane quickly climbs to his knees, but Jester refuses to give him an inch. Two kicks to the chest connect with sickening impact, but a third is caught. Smiles attempts an enziguri, but Thomas ducks, leaving Smiles face down on the mat. Shane grabs the NAFW’s clown prince’s other leg, scoops him into a wheelbarrow, and then tosses him up into the Alphalock.
(Tom) Take away his power my white, Polish ass.
(JB) Alphalock already? This could be doom for Jester Smiles.
Unfortunately for Shane, Ainsley decides to run a bit of interference. Before referee… can admonish her, she springboards in and dropkicks Shane in the back of the skull, sending both men to the mat.
The Alpha is the first to make it to his corner, bringing in Dustin to swoop down on the weakened Jester Smiles. He grabs Smiles by the ankle and pulls him back to the center of the ring, and then drops an elbow on the small of Smiles’ back. Dustin drops a second elbow, and then slaps on a seated side headlock. He slowly brings Jester up to a vertical position, never releasing the headlock, and then leaps forward with a bulldog, still refusing to release Smiles’ skull.
A second bulldog follows, and then a third.
(Tom) Cerberus Bulldogs from Dustin Thomas!
(JB) Excuse me?
(Tom) Mythical beast, three heads, looks kind of like Kramer’s mother… or Ainsley Lake without makeup.
Thomas covers, but Lake breaks up the count at two. While referee forces Lake back to her corner, Dustin makes a quick tag to Shane. He irish-whips Smiles into the ropes, with Shane following shortly thereafter. Dustin hits the opposite ropes, and the three men meet in the center of the ring.
Shane hits a Northern Lariat variation, clubbing Smiles across the back of the neck, while Dustin hits a lariat from the front. The force seems to almost pop Smile’s head off like a Pez dispenser.
(Tom) Old School Execution!
(JB) The Alpha, with the cover!
He only gets two.
Another quick tag sees Shane lifting Smiles up onto his shoulders. Dustin climbs to the top rope, and leaps off with a flying clothesline. This, my friends, is the Doomsday Device, and is as Old School as it gets.
Dustin covers, and again only gets a two count.
(Tom) What the hell is it going to take for Jester Smiles to just lie down and die already?
(JB) Haven’t you ever heard the phrase: That which does not kill me, only makes me stronger?
(Tom) I have heard that, and I think it’s a load of crap. If a move like that doesn’t kill you, it’s probably going to maim you horrifically or at the very least, break a bone or three.
Dustin brings Smiles to a seated position, and slaps on a reverse chin lock. Lake is on the outside, clapping for her partner, bringing the fans behind him. Richie Michaels Checks Smiles’ hand, raising it to see if he’s still conscious, and it falls once.
(JB) Ainsley Lake, really trying to rally the troops behind Jester here.
(Tom) There’s simply been too much damage to Jester Schmuck’s neck, Mann-Wagon. He’s out, just like Neil Patrick Harris.
Again, Michaels checks Smiles for consciousness, and again, his hand falls.
Dustin begins screaming at Jester, taunting him as Michaels reaches to check his consciousness for the third and final time. The volume in the arena reaches feverous proportions as Smiles keeps his hand in the air. He slowly begins working himself back to a vertical position, elbowing Dustin in the stomach three times to finally break free of the hold. Dustin irish-whips Smiles to the ropes, and Smiles’ comes back with a running knee lift. Again, Smiles hits the ropes, and again he tries a knee lift, but Thomas side steps and catches Jester on his way back down with a neckbreaker.
Again Dustin covers, and again, he only gets two.
(JB) Dustin sure seems frustrated.
(Tom) Wouldn’t you be, Mann-Chowder, if you couldn’t put away the laughing stock of the NAFW?
(JB) Now I wouldn’t call Jester Smiles a laughing stock. Funny, yes, offensive at times sure, but we’re laughing with him, not at him.
(Tom) Has Smiles won a match yet?
(JB) Well, no.
(Tom) Exactly. When a guy can’t even pin Andy D, then he’s a laughing stock.
Dustin begins arguing with Michaels demanding that he count faster. Meanwhile, Smiles begins crawling towards his corner, desperate to make a tag. Shane yells at Dustin, who cuts Smiles off at the last possible second, and tosses him back into their corner. Shane tags in, and irish-whips Smiles to a neutral corner.
He charges in blindly, looking for a monstrous avalanche.
C’mon… like he hits it. Like anyone ever hits a blind charge.
(JB) Virginia Side Kick!
(Tom) Bull crap!
Shane again tries to charge in a Smiles slumps back into the corner, and again he’s hit with a Virginia Side Kick. Smiles dives towards his corner and makes the hot tag to Ainsley Lake.
Ainsley enters the ring ablaze, and Dustin Thomas follows, illegally I might add. While Shane recovers, Ainsley is knocking Dustin down with a spinning wheel kick, but when she attempts a second wheel kick on Shane, the Alpha holds on and lifts her into a powerbomb position. Before Shane can toss Ainsley away however, she brings him down with a hurricanrana.
Dustin staggers to his feet, only to be used by Ainsley as a jungle gym. She somersaults up his body and brings him down with a DDT.
(JB) Suspension of Disbelief!
(Tom) I suspended all disbelief about three seconds ago when a ninety pound woman took down the big, bad Alpha! Damnit Empire… don’t crumble on me know.
Lake sees Shane staggered in the corner, still dizzy from being hurricanraned. She hits her patented springboard elbow, which sends Shane out to the center of the ring at the End of a Short Rope.
(JB) Ainsley Lake is on top, ready for the Higher Side of Low.
(Tom) The Alpha has this well scouted Mann-Wagon, look!
She leaps off, but Shane is out of position, and she’s forced to adjust herself midair. Shane has recovered to the point where he can catch Ainsley’s attempt at a cross body block. He tosses her up in one quick move to a bench press position.
(JB) What an incredible display of strength by the Alpha! He’s bench-pressing Ainsley Lake like she ways nothing.
(Tom) Yeah, she’s a spinner all right.
(JB) I’m sorry, Bear?
(Tom) Your mom will tell you what that means when you’re older, Mann-Wheel. Let’s keep this rated PG-13.
(JB) This could be the Alpha Maneuver.
(Tom) I’ll explain that one as well.
Before the Alpha can toss Ainsley into the crowd as planned, Smiles slides in and clips the Alpha’s knee. Ainsley falls on top, in a pinning predicament, but is pressed off nearly two feet into the air at the count of two.
(Tom) Now that’s how you kick out with authority.
As quick as Shane climbs back to a vertical base, Ainsley is even quicker. She tags in Jester, who joins her in the ring. A double dropkick bounces the Alpha off of the ropes and back to the center of the ring, where a second double dropkick takes him down and to the outside of the ring.
Jester runs and climbs on all fours near the ropes, while Ainsley runs to the opposite side of the ring. On the return, she leaps off Jester’s back to the outside, crashing down on the Alpha with a corkscrew body press.
Cue the Holy Shit chant.
That just leaves the recovering Dustin in the ring with Jester Smiles.
Jester begins playing to the crowd, the cheers increasing as Dustin stumbles towards the center of the ring. One End of the Laughter later, and the three count should be academic.
The only problem is… Dustin isn’t the legal man. Shane still is.
(Tom) What a maroon!
(JB) This should be a victory for Ainsley and Smiles right here, Bear.
(Tom) He won’t even listen to the ref. He’s still expecting a cover like some retarded monkey. Get up and pin the right guy, dumbass.
Shane slides into the ring behind Jester as, on the outside, Ainsley Lake is ordered back to her corner.
Smiles stands to confront Michaels still confused as to what exactly is going on.
(Tom) This is almost too easy! Get ‘em Shane! Get ‘em!
I’ll give you one guess as to what happens next.
(JB) Shane has the Alphalock cinched in tight on Jester Smiles. This could be the end!
Shane begins tossing the smaller Jester around like a ragdoll, seemingly trying to snap his neck. Ainsley attempts to make a save, but Dustin, still lying on the mat, weakened by the End of the Laughter, is able to grab her ankles with enough tenacity to trip her and keep her from getting to Jester.
Michaels raises Smiles’ hand once.
It falls.
(Tom) No one breaks the Alphalock!
(JB) C’mon Jester! You battled through once; you can do it again!
A second check reveals the same result. Jester Smiles’ hand falls again.
(Tom) This is the real End of the Laughter right here.
(JB) Fight it Smiles! Fight it!
Jester’s hand is raised for a third and final attempt. His hand falls, Jester Smiles unconscious.
(Tom) Woohoo! The Old School Empire moves on to Death Wish and Three Wishes!
(JB) A valiant effort by Smiles and Lake. I’m sure this won’t be the last time we see these two as a team.
(Tom) Weren’t you listening to me all match, Mann-Wagon? Lake threw a temper tantrum backstage, gave her notice, and is going to work for the competitors. .
(JB) There’s more to this story that I think either of us know, Bear.
(Tom) Eh, as far as I’m concerned, the OSE are going to Three Wishes, and these schmucks lost, and that’s all that matters.
(JB) Let’s go to the back, where Amie Carmichael is in the back with the Reaper, Leonard Aarons. Amie?
Doddtown or Bust
We go to the back where Amie Carmichael is standing outside of The Reaper's locker room. The fans are in full throat, in anticipation of seeing the very first ever Doddtown Street Fight in NAFW's history. The Reaper hasn't been seen all night, hasn't been seen since his last promotional piece in which he incinerated an entire Christmas tree with gifts under it to boot. Nobody saw Aarons come in, but know he's there.
(Amie) Well, I'm standing outside of The Reaper's dressing room where he's only moments away from facing off with Dwayne Bishop in the first ever Doddtown Street Fight in the history of NAFW. The history between these two has been well…
Through the door you can hear the word…
(The Reaper) Documented?
It's here that the door finally opens, as the fans erupt upon the sight of The Reaper for the first time all night. He's making only his second PPV appearance in NAFW history, first since Rage in January of 2005 when he beat Tharodund for the United States Title. He's in a black sweatshirt with a bloody Lion's head on the front and a pair of his customized jeans with the slash marks going down both sides, replica blood seeping out of each incision. There's a hood over his head, as he's not looking up or even into the camera as the door shuts behind him.
(Amie) Yes, tonight marks the culmination of…
(The Reaper) How's about you run along and allow me time to address the people. Don't need this to be the usual dumb question, smart answer segment. Amscray.
Not wanting to test the man's patience, Carmichael walks off as Aarons reenters his dressing room that is, as luck would have it, damn near pitch black. The only thing that's lighting the room are candles, as he goes over to a corner of the room and sits down with his legs stretched out. He sighs very heavily as he tugs the hood forward a little more and begins speaking.
(The Reaper) This is it, is it not? The night you've been anxiously waiting for Dwayne, the night that your little friend from Richville, USA has been probably dripping with anticipation waiting on. You…going one on one with me. First time ever and much like the whole Diamond Del/Ron Barker saga, I don't think you're going to come out on top here.
Yeesh.
(The Reaper) You see, all of this started back in the NWC. When you hated my guts to the high heavens and much like most of those clowns in the Atlantic region, were too damn afraid to do a thing about it. You talked a great game, but the one time you finally had the opportunity to do something about it, you did nothing. You went your way and I went mine. Then, you go missing due to Lord knows what reason and I come here. Dominant as usual, taking Tharodund's belt off of him and then losing to Mike Castleberry before I took a sabbatical of sorts. You come in, do your thing and come but sooooo close to being Da Man. To being the Foundation Heavyweight Champion and well…it just doesn't happen for you does it? So the place shuts down due to Lord knows what reason and then reopens, to find you wanting back in the title hunt. Hell, this time you manage to fight your way all the way to the finals of this Ultimate Showdown tourney where you face off with Diamond Del Carver. No way you lose to a guy that makes Hulk Hogan seem like he's in his 20s. No way you lose to a guy with one eye and two replaced hips.
He chuckles while shaking his head and shrugging his shoulders.
(The Reaper) Guess some things really don’t change no matter where you go, huh? The Bishop I remembered from the NWC was never that great at closing the deal and lo and behold, you didn't close it here either. So I issue my little challenge to you that you accept, only I come to find out that you're now working alongside my ex in an attempt to shut me down for good. Well, here's something that your little associate didn’t tell you. Something that everyone here has seemingly forgotten all at once, but will be reminded of very shortly.
He removes his hood, looking into the camera as the dim glow of the room illuminates the flat out distaste on L's face.
(The Reaper)I…don't…lose…often. Hell, here, only one man's actually managed to say that they've pinned me to the mat for three seconds and believe me when I tell you…he too will catch his payback courtesy of The Reaper. Anyway, I've only got one loss on my resume and yet, it's spinally challenged bitches like you that get the shots at the big prize. It's the little bitches like you who get mentioned in the same breath as the Keith Owens’ and such and such as being contenders for the Foundation Heavyweight Championship. A championship that I want and WILL HAVE this year. Tonight, you will be the first to fall as I make my way towards that goal. The first of many on a road that will at the end of it all, will have many victims lining it. Many broken bodies, much spilled blood. But all of it, will lead to me standing tall with the Foundation Heavyweight Title on my shoulder and the spine of whomever the champion is in my right hand. Tonight Dwayne, with your little friend watching from ringside, I'm going to spill yours all over the place.
Deep breath.
(The Reaper) You're going to suffer. You're going to lose. You're going to be Devastated. And at the end of this evening, I want every last person in this arena, from the fans to the announcers to the goombas at the concession stands getting people's money to realize something. I want them to realize that I am every bit as devastating as I claim to be. I want them to grasp that nothing short of God Almighty will keep me from having gold this year and that anyone who steps in my path, will FEEL…MY…WRATH!!!
He sneers and storms off, grabbing a stick from the ground. We hear a scraping sound, of metal on concrete as Aarons exits the room.
(JB) This is it. The one we’ve been waiting for. The first ever Doddtown Street Fight as Dwayne Bishop will lock up with “The Reaper” Leonard Aarons. This one has been brewing for weeks, ever since Ultimate Showdown where The Reaper challenged Bishop to a one on one match for Annihilation. Which never happened because…
(Tom) The Reaper tried to go all Ike Turner on his ex and Dwayne basically beat the boy like a red-headed stepchild. That’ll serve his ass right the next time he tries to put his hands on a woman.
(JB) I don’t quite remember it happening that way, but nonetheless, Vanessa came out the week after and announced that she’s been planning this for a little over a year now, joining up with Bishop in a quest to rid the NAFW of The Reaper once and for all.
(Tom) A noble cause if I ever heard it. Even went as far to stage quite the elaborate funeral for The Reaper which he had to ruin by interrupting her stirring eulogy on his uneventful career and drenching her with blood.
(JB) That’s when she issued the challenge to The Reaper for a Doddtown Street Fight which he accepted…
(Tom) Because he doesn’t know any better.
(JB) Well, last time on Annihilation following a match that The Reaper had with Charles Johnson which ended in a disqualification, Aarons told the world exactly what a Doddtown Street Fight consisted of and that he’d read both Vanessa and Dwayne their respective last rites here tonight. But that wasn’t all. He put Vanessa’s head through a television set before dropping her with a double underhook facebuster.
(Tom) And of course Bishop was right there to knock The Reaper on his woman abusing ass, just as he’s going to do tonight in this cockamamie street fight of his.
(JB) I did some research and The Reaper’s record in these street fights is all but immaculate. His last loss in one of these things was over six years ago.
(Tom) Well the time for talk is over. As Mills Lane would say, let’s get it on!
The opening riffs of Mudvayne's “Determined” begin to play over the Public Address System as the arena lights dim slightly, followed by blue and white pyrotechnics showering down over the entrance curtain.
## YEAH GO, YOU BETTER BELIEVE IT CONFIDENCE ##
## GO, SO ****ING DETERMINED, YEAH ##
## YEAH GO, SPIT OUT ALL REASON, YEAH ##
Dwayne Bishop stands atop the ramp, as he receives a combination of cheers and jeers from the Foundation Fans that have filled the arena to it's capacity. Bishop stretches his arms out as the showering sparks rain down on him from above. With the first step of his descent down the ramp, pyro shoots off on either side of him with a loud thunderous boom. Bishop ascends the steps, then lifts his leg over the top rope to enter the ring.
(JB) Here’s the man who ever since his attack on Aarons shortly after Ultimate Showdown, hasn’t been seen on NAFW television since.
(Tom) He hasn’t had to be seen Mann-wheel. The fact of the matter is, he sent the message to Aarons and even went as far as to give him a love tap with a pipe when he put his hands on Vanessa on Annihilation a few weeks back. Tonight, he ends it once and for…
A loud shot goes off as we hear...
That's gonna make it hard to smile in the future
The NAFWtron flickers as the lights go out in the arena. The fans go wild as the screen flashes the eyes of The Reaper before it goes dark again. A few moments later, the screen flashes a dark red backdrop with storm clouds rolling in ominously. The speakers start pumpin' "Tha Realist Killaz" by 2 Pac w/50 Cent blares as the screen comes on again with a combination of the eyes followed quickly by the backdrop before you see the eyes against the stormy backdrop before all goes dark again.
Let's go nigga, this is what it is
Tupac cut his head bald
Then you wanna cut yo' head bald (you nigga!)
Tupac wear a bandana
You wanna wear a bandana
Tupac put a cross on his back
You wanna put crosses on yo' back
Nigga you ain't Tupac - THIS Tupac!
The NAFWtron flashes images of Aarons alone in a dimly lit room, his hoodie on with his hood thrown up over his head as he just sits off in the corner with his forearms resting on his thighs. This quickly fades to Aarons and his intial confrontation with the FLF's Tharodund.
I can make a million and STILL not get enough of spending
And since my life is based on sinnin, I'm hellbound
Rather be buried than be worried, livin held down
The NAFWtron now flashes images of Aarons walking down the aisle in Sydney during the Body Count pre-show. This is just followed by two quick and sudden Reaper's Wraths to The Prophet. Another shot shows Aarons standing in the crowd talking down at Tharodund. The next rapid fire shot is that of Aarons delivering The Reaper's Wrath to Tharodund before standing over him with the United States Title held high over head as he stares down at Tharodund. Three huge pyro explosions bring the lights back on before the strobing gold and crimson lights flood the arena as dry fog emerges from the entranceway. Aarons emerges from the fog in a black sleeveless hoodie with a gold bloody Lion's head on the back as he hops from side to side. He starts down towards the ring with his face hidden by the hood over his head as the song pumps out loud over the roar of the crowd.
My success'll be the death of you
Lo and behold you sold your soul
Nigga there's nuttin left of you
Look in the mirror, ask yourself who are you?
If you don't know who you are, how could your dreams come true?
Aarons stops halfway down the aisle as he tilts his head skyward, three fingers extended towards the sky before looking toward the ring as he brings that arm down across his throat as he makes a slow and deliberate cutthroat motion. He finishes the motion and spreads his arms out wide in a crucifix position with three fingers extended as a wall of solid pyro covers the entranceway as Aarons heads for the ring. The NAFWtron shows various highlights of L's triumphs since arriving on the scene in Sydney as he slides in the ring before proceeding to the far right corner, taking a seat as he gets in the zone, removing his hood as he shoots to his feet with the help of the ropes. He slips out of his hoodie, slinging it side arm style into the crowd as he rolls his shoulders and cracks his neck prior to the bell ringing.
(JB) Aarons has been adamant about this being his statement match to the rest of the NAFW, that he’s more than ready to become the Foundation Heavyweight Champion.
(Tom) That should be the last thing on his mind right now. He should be focused on the behemoth across the ring from him that’s looking to pound him into early retirement.
(JB) Our referee is Dave Connors and the rules for this as the bell is rung are as follows. No disqualifications, no countouts, falls count anywhere.
(Tom) Which is great, since Bishop can beat this clown anywhere he so pleases.
The two men come face to face and there are very few men who tower over The Reaper in both size and weight. Dwayne Bishop is one of them. After some jaw jacking by the two men, mainly Bishop, Dwayne piefaces Aarons which draws some oohs from the crowd. Dwayne yells at The Reaper who rolls his eyes into his head and charges back at Bishop only to be floored with a hard right hand to the mush which staggers Aarons back a bit. Bishop drops Aarons with another one and begins to stomp on him repeatedly as the crowd boos. Connors admonishes Bishop who simply flicks him off with the double bird, resuming his assault with those vicious stomps.
(Tom) Now ya see there? Aarons is getting what he’s had coming to him for weeks now. You put your hands on a woman and you get what you deserve.
(JB) Just where is Vanessa by the way?
(Tom) I’m sure she’s watching this somewhere and loves every second of it.
Bishop picks Aarons up and locks in a front facelock wrenching it in before he hoists him up for a hanging vertical suplex. The fans are in awe of the power display by Bishop who instead of falling backwards, drops straight down with Aarons landing a brainbuster as he drapes an arm over his chest as the referee drops down to make a count only to have Bishop yank L’s head up before Connors’s hand hits the mat for a one count. He picks up Aarons and sends him for the ride, following him in and nailing a hard knee to the midsection that doubles Aarons over. He does so again and repeats the move once more, yelling at Aarons as he bends down laughing in his ear before delivering a quick DDT.
(Tom) The early going here has seen Bishop in command. He should look to end this quickly and…
(JB) Now why in the hell would he want to do that? Drag this out and prolong his suffering for as long as humanly possible. He asked for this beating, so I say he should get every second of what’s coming his way.
Bishop rolls out of the ring, reaching in and grabbing Aarons by the jaw as he drapes him over the apron. Bishop starts to rub his forearm across the face of Aarons repeatedly, as the referee starts to count only to have Bishop again flip him off as he lands several forearm shots to the chest of Aarons. Bishop snickers before he pulls Aarons all the way out to the floor as his body lands with a fairly hard thud.
THE SUPER DUPER BAD ASS DODDTOWN STYLE FILTER OF DOOM: On
Bishop gets it back in the ring. Vanessa comes out in all black, and with a mask on her face, selling the aftereffects of the attack by Reaper. The busted open Reaper stands to his feet, and Bishop waves for Vanessa to pelt Reaper with a Lendo Stick. She steps forward, but nails Bishop instead! The big man is staggered, but even after five shots, he doesn't go down. Finally, Reaper comes charging in with a G.C.E. to take Bish down. Vanessa heads up the ramp, pausing to remove her mask and show the world that she is fine, and she mouths "you're welcome" to Reaper. A new hooded figure enters the ring behind Aarons, and when Reaper turns around, he gets planted with a Vertabreaker. The masked man bails from the ring, just as Bishop gets to his feet. He brings a table into the ring, and sets it up. The big man grabs Reaper and hoists him up to the top rope, but Reaper manages to fight out, and nail a top rope Reaper's Wrath on Bishop through the table for the win.
THE SUPER DUPER BAD ASS DODDTOWN STYLE FILTER OF DOOM: Off
(JB) Wow, what a match, Bear.
(Tom) What's with all the masked people running around?
(JB) That remains to be seen.
(Tom) Hopefully, if they take their damn masks off.
Again, we cut back to the Trust Fund Kids’ locker room, this time to find Trevor Cunning seated and stretching, a bottle of Heineken at his side. He takes a swig and begins stretching his hamstrings out, when the door to the locker room swings open, smacking against the wall with a tinny, resonating thud.
Almost instinctively, Trevor is at his feet, holding the bottle of beer by the neck instead of the base, as if he’s ready to break the glass and start a barroom brawl at any moment. Keith Owens walks through the door and Cunning relaxes, until Owens steps right up in the Godfather’s face.
(Tom) I smell trouble, Mann-Chowder!
(JB) If what I think is going to happen next, happens next, then this will be a good night for the Foundation!
(Tom) You guys are friends! Stay friendly!
Owens looks up at the taller Cunning, who slowly palms the bottle in preparation for an intense stare down that could very well turn physical.
(Keith) You know that I still want to be champion, right?
(Trevor) I know.
Owens is the first to break the staredown, looking at the floor, at Hayes standing behind him, then back at Cunning.
(Keith) You’re going to make me proud out there tonight?
(Trevor) As punch.
(Keith) Alrighty then. This is your night.
(Trevor) This is our night.
(Keith) Starting now, the NAFW is on notice. The Trust Fund Kids are back in charge.
The two men shake hands and then hug. We cut back to the announce team.
(Tom) Phew.
(JB) Damnit.
(Tom) Even though that was kind of a gay moment, I’m so glad they didn’t have to go and start hitting each other.
(JB) I’ll be expecting a letter from the GBLT communities come Monday.
(Tom) Don’t be gay, Mann-Lover.
(JB) A long, angry letter.
Start Counting
The arena cuts to black. A pulse beats over the PA system loudly; slow at first, then quickening up the pace. As the pulse hits flat line…
BOOM!
BOOM!
BOOM!
Three pyros shoot from the stage to the top of the arena, all gold in color. Over the large screen plays a video with the high spots in the career of the man scheduled, including a recent double swanton dive off of a twenty foot ladder to solidify the LEGACY Tao of Valor championship. The fans all stand on their feet as the curtains get pushed back. Just as soon as the man makes himself visible to the fans, his nickname, ‘The Lights’, hits the screen.
(JB) Oh, my god! IT’S DAN STEIN!
(Tom) What’s he doing here?! Doesn’t he have a title to defend in some other fed?
Stein wears a black t-shirt, with ‘The Lights’ written across the chest in gold lettering. The fans in the arena aren’t sure how to react to this, the few that follow the other federations (and the inaugural Cheeseman Cup) jeer Dan. Stein, however, continues on down towards the ring, slapping a few hands before he slides into the squared circle.
(JB) I knew we had him signed, but I didn’t think he’d be showing at Last Rites!
(Tom) This better be good, JB. That lesbian, the denim jockey and our favorite Canadian have proven to us that OPW isn’t really the top of the line competition.
Stein’s designer blue jeans cover all but the top of his brown loafers as he stands in the middle of the ring. He runs his hands through his short blonde hair uses it to grab a microphone out of his back pocket. The fans quickly die down, not knowing what to expect from him.
(TL) Surprise. All you internet smarks can stop rumoring me to be heading for the hills since I did what I did a couple days ago.
(Tom) See? He’s talking about his title reign!
(TL) I’m not here to bask in that crap, I’m not here to rub anything in anyone’s face, I’m not going to say ‘Oh Em Gee, I’m Better. Than. You.’ Because, first of all, it’s a dumb saying, and second of all, someone is using it… and he’s an idiot for using it.
The last statement sends a wave of laughter around the arena. Stein drops his microphone for a moment, then puts it back to his mouth.
(TL) Those of you who know me… know what kind of excitement I bring to a place. I’m innovative, quick, agile, determined. Some have dubbed me the best Cruiserweight in the business, others have dubbed me the most entertaining man in the world. I, however, like to keep it simple. Underneath the bad attitude you see in LEGACY and OPW is still that guy that every body knew and loved in the Sky High tournament.
Stein pauses for a second, again, then speaks.
(TL) You see, I didn’t just show up here and turn in an application, one of your stars stopped me and told me about this place, about the traditions this place has. During the Cheeseman Cup, my tag partner and I wrestled Demonfire, and the NAFW Foundation Heavyweight Champion at the time, Faithless. For those of you that don’t remember, take a look at the way that it finished.
As Stein steps back, a few of the fans booed. He turns to the screen, as the OPW logo is seen for a split second, before the actual video begins.
Dan comes in and catches Demonfire with a clothesline! Faithless turns around and takes a clothesline as well. Demonfire gets up and catches Stein from behind with a forearm to the back. Faithless gets up as well and both men send Stein into a neutral corner. Stein leaps up to the top rope and twists into a corkscrew moonsault, catching both men and knocking them over!
Robert Mack: "The Definition of Greatness just caught both Demonfire and Faithless!"
Shane Jackson: "This can't be happening!"
Faithless rolls out of the ring as Stein grabs Demonfire by his head and runs up the turnbuckles with a tornado DDT!
Robert Mack: "Did you see Demonfire's head spike into the mat?!"
Shane Jackson: "What is going on?!"
Faithless gets to his feet on the outside just as Cade springs to the top turnbuckle and launches himself off, right into a Shooting Star Press onto Faithless! Stein leaps up to the top turnbuckle and comes off with a picture perfect frog splash across Demonfire's chest!
Robert Mack: "Cade just took out Faithless, while Stein scores the huge splash off the ropes!"
ONE!
TWO!
Shane Jackson: "No!"
THREE!
Layne Jacobs: "Here are your winners, at a time of 19 minutes and 16 seconds! Teknikal X2C!"
As Stein’s hand can be seen being raised and Cade Sydal slipping into the ring, the screen fades to black. Stein, however, puts the microphone back up to his mouth.
(TL) Now, now. That’s not to brag about anything, that’s not to say ‘looky-looky, I beat your best’, because…
Stein looks around the ring.
(TL) I don’t see either of those two men in the arena. That’s just to give you a basis of the talent I had when I was, simply put, a dumb rookie. Since then, two years ago, I’ve been the one and only Heavyweight Champion of a Mixed Martial Arts federation, Tao of Valor champion, and… Male Model of the Year in ’05.
The fans chuckle at his openness with being a model for a few months during the year.
(TL) Don’t hold that against me. All I’m trying to do right now, is let all of you know that I’m not a no talent hack that needed a pay check. I’m here for the long haul, and I don’t plan on leaving any time soon. The NAFW is a place where rookies become men, and men become stars, stars become legends. It’s where I plan to write another chapter of the book of my career, and where I plan on bringing the most entertaining matches, the most… the most…
Stein drops the microphone, looking around.
(TL) You know, I hate this. I hate this damn speech, I hate that damn video I just showed, I hate everything that comes with introductions and.. this… crap. But you know what I hate more than that?
Stein paused.
(TL) Last Annihilation, Mike Castleberry laid down an open challenge to anyone in the roster, saying how he’s in the best shape of his life, and ripping on Ainsley Lake because she’s taking matches that the front can’t seem to find him fit for? And he thinks he’s makin’ a name for himself again? What kind of crap is that?
Stein shook his head.
(TL) Listen, Mike. Between you and me? All you’re doing as a former two time title holder ripping on a woman is making yourself sound like a washed up has been. ‘Back into Ring Shape’, listen Mr. Creeping Death, you can take your backhanded jokes at the roster, one of which you subjugated yourself into re-joining, and shove them right up your old, out of shape, busted up ass, broham. Because Dan Stein is taking your open-challenge offer, I’ll be the one that steps up to the plate. Not because I have something to prove to you. Not because I have something to prove to Gonzo, not because I need a match to shake off the ring rust…
Stein looks around real quick.
(TL) But because I want to prove to you, Old Man, that whatever crap you believe in your head? At Annihilation, after I get done putting on a wrestling clinic in that match and show you things you’ve never even HEARD of before… You will be on your back, watching the bright orbs that hang from the ceiling slowly shift back into focus, and you’ll wonder to yourself what the hell they are. I’ll be right there to tell you, bub.
(TL) The Lights.
The crowd begins to cheer Stein, who turns the microphone off with his thumb and drops it from waist high.
(JB) Good… God. What an expired speech from Dan Stein, folks.
(Tom) I think the good for nothin’s got something up his sleeve, this isn’t like him to be a fan favorite.
(JB) Well, you know what they say. New surroundings, new lease on life. Maybe Stein has had an awakening.
(Tom) Either way, I still see Casstleberry living up to his word and defeating Stein at Annihilation.
The Definition of Filler
Again, we head to the back, where we are met with a pair of familiar faces. A pair of familiar faces who, after having one hell of a match to open the inaugural edition of Annihation, seemed to be dedicated, deteremined, and ready to kick some ass.
Well, they haven't been seen since... until tonight.
Ladies and Gentlemen: The Mexican Toiletries!
(Señor Bag of Crap) Hola!
(El Asso Wipo) Must you continue to perpetuate the cultural stereotypes that have plagued our people for generations?
(Señor BOC) We're two Mexican Luchadores who are named after bowel movements. I think fighting stereotypes is one of our smallest worries, hombre.
(El Asso) You mean to tell me, my brother, that you aren't tired of these Gringos laughing at you? You aren't tired of being the butts of their jokes?
(Señor BOC) Butts... heh.
El Asso slaps Señor Bag of Crap across the face. The fans OOOOOOHHHHH!
(El Asso) I am damn serious, hombre.
(Señor BOC) Sorry.
(El Asso) For too long, the North American Foundation of Wrestling has overlooked El Asso Wipo and Señor Bag of Crap. For too long, the North American Foundation of Wrestling has overlooked the hispanic population, choosing instead to glorify the Gringo way of life!
Our people are being used as slave labor, as maids, and janitors... when they should be doctors and lawyers and Champions!
Tell me, Señor, where are the Latino Tag Team Champions?
(Señor BOC) V.C.R. was...
(El Asso) Where are the Hispanic Foundation Heavyweight Champions?
(Señor BOC) Jaime Alejand...
El Asso turns and glares at Señor Bag of Crap, who shrinks away sheepishly, lowering his head in shame.
(El Asso) Tonight, the Latin American community has found a new voice, a new team to Champion their cause. We are no longer the Mexican Toiletries!
(Señor BOC) We're not? Dude, we should probably discuss this.
(El Asso) Can I please finish? Honestly!
(Señor BOC) I'm just saying that we should discuss such a major change in our careers. I mean we've been partners for...
Again, Asso slaps Bag of Crap across the face. Again, Bag of Crap backs off, silent.
(El Asso) The Toiletries are a joke. The Toiletries are a laughing stock. El Asso Wipo and Señor Bag of Crap... we are no longer these weak slaves to the Gringo conspiracy.
We are the voice of a generation!
We are the representation of a glorious and storied culture!
We are the LAX-itives!
That being said, we cut back to the arena.
(JB) The LAX-itives?
(Tom) We're going to get sued.
(JB) Ah crap.
(Tom) Speaking of crap... It’s about time for the you know what to hit the fan.
(JB) Well, we can be sure of it this match, as it’s time for the Atlantic title match.
(Troy) Ladies and Gentlemen, the following contest is set for one fall, and it is for the NAFW ATLANTIC CHAMPIONSHIP!!!
A clusterfuck of drum and bass Begin to thunder and all of the lights in the arena mysteriously tint to a sickly shade of gray, as Trent Reznor's voice pierces through the boos and jeers from the crowd, reciting the lyrics to his song "The Line Begins to Blur”.
A video trailer featuring a mammoth-sized individual sporting a leather trenchcoat rolls on the ol' NAFWTron, as the lights outlining the screen begin flashing blindingly white lights.
The 6-foot-eleven-inch monstrosity with but one name, Hush, stepped out and through the NAFW curtains, basically blowing them backwards with his imposing size as he makes his way to the top of the entry ramp. Hush is not alone., as he accompanied by Aliester Essex. Hush, masked, dressed in black wrestling tights, a black tank-top, and a leather trenchcoat, pauses with his manager at the top of the ramp, met with the reaction of the crowd.
(Tom) I think he’s truly unstoppable
(JB) Well, one week ago he pinned Mike Stryker, and he has yet to be beaten or really even put in a position where he could be hurt, but at some point he will be, and if there’s one guy with the heart and resolve to hang in there and find a way, it’s the man headed to the ring right now.
The house lights go down as "Til I Collapse" by Eminem begins to play through the arena. As the song goes through it's dark intro, various scenes from NYC come across the NAFWTron.
YO LEFT, YO LEFT, YO LEFT RIGHT LEFT!!
As the line repeats and the dialouge of the song starts in the background, the scene changes to a simple panoramic of the NYC Skyline. When the drums kick in, lightning fills the sky with each beat, and through the cloud cover, the word "STRYKER" can be made out with each bolt of lightning.
When the song finally kicks in, The house lights come up, with a bright white light punctuating each clap in the songs beat. Mike Stryker comes out in his black sweatshirt, hood up, hair hanging down in front of his face. He marches out, and as the crowd gives a roar of approval, he raises his right fist over his head. He gives the crowd a quick look before he begins marching himself to the ring, oblivious to the cheers.
Stryker rolls under the bottom rope and gets up on the opposite turnbuckles, again raising his fist as the crowd roars once more. He crosses the ring and repeats the action to another cheer. He dismounts fom the buckles and pulls off his sweatshirt, tossing it aside and pacing the ring, waiting for the match to begin.
(JB) Much different from last week, both men are waiting for this match to start. Last week Hush came out after Stryker at the behest of Essex.
(Tom) They look confident now, like they know Stryker doesn’t want any more than he got. Stryker, to his credit, doesn’t LOOK scared…but come on, he’s felt Hush’s power.
(JB) He knows what Hush can do. He knows his power. But he’s not scared of it.
The bell rings and this time Hush comes out slowly, a smile coming from beneath his mask, as Stryker hops in his corner and comes out to meet his opponent. Hush waits at center ring, and as Stryker gets there Hush shoves him all the way back to his corner. Stryker stumbles in and catches himself on the ropes. Hush stays in the middle of the ring, this time with his arms raised. Stryker nods, cracks his neck, and marches back up.
(Tom) Maybe he’s not scared, but he’s got problems.
Hush rewards Stryker’s bravery with another shove back. Essex can be heard cackling in the corner of his charge as Stryker again uses the ropes to catch himself. Again Stryker nods and rights himself. He marches right back up to Hush and this time doesn’t get shoved, instead choosing to paintbrush the monster with a slap to his masked face.
(JB) Ok, he’s got bog problems, I’ll give it to you.
The crowd buzzes as Stryker stares at Hush. After initial Shock, Hush lets out a yell and lunges, but Stryker gets out of dodge and rolls to the outside. Hush gives chase, and Stryker begins to backpedal quickly, getting the monster running after him. Stryker rolls inside one end with Hush following and outside the other. As hush goes to leave the ring, Essex cuts him off, pointing at his head, shaking it no.
(Tom) Stryker’s trying to get Hush to run all over the building!
(JB) Do you blame him? Essex figured it out and stopped Hush before the monster got winded.
Stryker waits outside, milking the count, as Hush stares him down. As Stryker hops up on the apron, Hush comes at him, but Stryker is ready, pulling Hush throat first into the top rope. As Hush stumbles Back, Stryker slides in and starts firing away with right hands.
(JB) He’ll need every trick in the book!
Stryker backs Hush up to the ropes and tries to whip him across, only to be reversed, ducking a Hush clothesline on the rebound. Stryker comes back and catches Hush off balance by going the one place he’d look for….the leg.
(Tom) Big Dropkick!!
Hush falls to a knee in pain as Stryker doesn’t let up, going after Hush who’s suddenly below eye level. He throws vicious rights at the head of his foe, before a kick to the gut, doubling the monster to his hands and knees. He moves behind hush and grabs the hurt leg by the ankle, lifting it and driving it down knee first into the mat. He goes back and repeats the process before making haste to the outside and heading up top.
(JB) He may have Hush in a bad way here.
Stryker comes off the top rope and drives an elbow into the back of Hush’s leg, soliciting a scream from the monster and a roar from the crowd. As he gets up, he grabs Hush’s leg and looks up for a second, as both he and the crowd know what he’s looking for. The crowd lets out a few “whoooos” as Stryker wraps up the leg looking for a figure four. As he turns, Hush gets his free leg up and kicks Stryker off into the nearby corner. As Stryker turns and goes back, Hush springs up and lands a clothesline that get a groan from the crowd.
(Tom) one move…and we’re even.
Stryker lies on the map collecting himself as Hush rolls away and pulls himself up. As Essex shouts at Hush to attack, Hush takes his time, his leg still not right. By the time he comes forward, Stryker has pulled himself up, leaning in a corner. As Hush comes in, Stryker gets his feet up and kicks Hush in the face. Stryker hops up on the second rope as Hush is turned the wrong way. Hush turs around as Stryker comes off the ropes, but sees it coming as he catches Stryker in mid-air.
(Tom) One mistake and now Hush has Stryker at his mercy.
Hush takes Stryker and heaves him up and over his head in a crude belly to belly which sends Stryker halfway across the ring. As he gets up, limping slightly, Stryker lays in a heap on his stomach. Hush takes Stryker and lifts him easily, tossing him into the corner. He whips Stryker across, and Stryker hits the buckles hard enough to shift the ring as the crowd again moans. Hush doesn’t stop, limping across and picking Stryker up again. This time there is no whip as Hush simply slings Stryker on his shoulder and drives him down with a powerslam. He opts not to go for the cover as Essex instructs, feeling the need to make his point. Hush backs up and drops a leg across Stryker’s neck, and gets back up, delivering another legdrop and burying Stryker.
(JB) Essex is shouting for Hush to make the cover.
(Tom) Well…Hush doesn’t want to. I don’t think he’ll get an argument.
Essex or anyone won’t argue as Hush pulls Stryker off of the canvas and walks him over to a corner, setting him up on the top rope. Hush follows Stryker up the ropes, looking to land a Superplex. As they stand, Stryker delivers a quick shot to Hush’s midsection, slowing the monster. Stryker repeats the action until Hush releases his grip, and suddenly he shoves the big man off the ropes and onto his back. The crowd ignites as Stryker gets himself onto the top rope. Hush comes to his feet and turns as Stryker comes off the top with a clothesline. He connects and rocks the big man back to the ropes, but can’t knock him over. Stryker gets up and comes charging with another clothesline…and rocks Hush again. Stryker comes off the ropes and attacks again, and again Hush is rocked. The crowd hums louder and louder as Hush almost goes down. Stryker comes after Hush again, only the monster swings for the fences with a clothesline.
(Tom) Stryker ducked!!
(JB) He put on the brakes!!
As Stryker turns, Hush walks right into him. Stryker clasps his arms around the monster, locking up his head and one arm. The crowd roars in disbelief as Stryker lifts the monster and throws him overhead with a perfect Head and Arm Suplex.
(JB) Are you KIDDING ME?!?!
Hush is down and Stryker lies on his back for a moment as the crowd cheers madly over what they’ve just seen. Stryker sits up after a few seconds and looks up, then back at his foe. Stryker rolls over to his knees and gets up to his feet, giving the roaring crowd a quick glance as he comes over to Hush. He lifts Hush and pushes him back, irish whipping him. Hush reverses and sends Stryker across the ring. Stryker comes back and slides between the big man’s legs, catching him with a forearm to the face as he turns. Stryker comes off the ropes and charges…and pays for it.
(JB) ECHOES OF ETERNITY!!!
(Tom) THIS IS OVER!!! NEW CHAMP!!!!
(JB) Essex is outside counting along!!
1……………….
2………………………………………
3!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
(JB) NO!!!!!
(Tom) WHAT!?!?
(JB) HE KICKED OUT!!!
Stryker lays in the ring almost unconscious as Hush sits up in disbelief. Essex, for his part, is on fire, as he grabs a chair. He then hops onto the apron to keep the ref distracted. Hush gets up, and lifts Stryker to his feet. The Atlantic Champion was ready though, and he is able to grab Hush's legs, sweeping him to the mat. He crosses the big man's legs, and is able to turn him over.
(JB) NEW YORK CLOVERLEAF!!!
(Tom) NO!!!
Stryker locks on the move to the best of his ability as the crowd goes wild. The official turns around and sees what is happening. He goes down to Hush, to see if the big man is going to give up or not. The big man is grabbing the ref, and trying to express his pain in some way. Essex looks around, and slowly remember he has the chair.
(Tom) DO IT!!
It's almost like he heard you, Bear. Essex winds up, and takes Stryker's head off with the steel chair. The ref is being shaken around so it doesn't seem to register that something has happened. The manager drops to the floor, and slides the chair under the ring. Stryker releases the hold, and falls down to the mat. He's been demolished thus far, and he's nearly out of fire. Hush gets up, and looks around. Essex points to Stryker, and the big man smells blood.
(JB) This is ridiculous.
Hush puts Stryker into the powerbomb position, and everyone knows what's coming.
(Tom) Here it comes!
The big man lifts the Atlantic Champion up, and executes his Canadian Backbreaker/DDT combo!
(Tom) DEAFENING SILENCE!!!!
Hush makes the cover as Essex counts with the official.
1……………….
2………………………………………
3!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
(JB) NO!
(Tom) FINALLY!!!
The bell rings.
(Troy) Your winner, and NEW ATLANTIC CHAMPION..... HUSH!!!!
The official hands the Atlantic Championship belt to Essex, who raises Hush's arm.
(JB) Hush didn't see the interference from Essex.
(Tom) So what? Essex made sure his man got the duke. It's great!
Essex ushers Hush from the ring before any replays of the finish can be shown.
(JB) Mike Stryker's title reign is finally over.
The capacity Chicago crowd is on their feet chanting "Stry-ker, Stry-ker" as the NYC native begins to stir. Everyone in the arena, whether they like the guy or hate him, are clapping. The Hitman crawls to his knees as everyone cheers on the man who has held the Intercontinental/Atlantic Championship since he was working for Mike Lane in the FLF.
(JB) This man will go down in history as being one of, if not the, greatest Atlantic Champion of all time. Even you can't not respect Mike Stryker, Bear.
(Tom) Yeah yeah, he's had a good reign, time for the new blood of Hush to take over.
Stryker finally makes it to his feet, and he looks around the arena in wonder at the reaction he's receiving. He raises his arm in the air to a huge pop.
(JB) A helluva guy, that Mike Stryker.
A Political Statement
Cut back to the locker rooms, where we find the newly christened LAX-itives. El Asso Wipo has a Mexican Flag draped across his shoulders like a large cape, while Señor Bag of Crap stands behind his friend, looking rather sheepish and uncomfortable. They are each holding a can of spray paint.
(Señor Bag of Crap) Remind me again while we're doing this.
(El Asso Wipo) If we want to be included in Three Wishes, Señor, we must be taken seriously!
(Señor BOC) I still don't understand why we have to do this!
(El Asso Wipo) Aren't you proud of your heritage, Señor?
(Señor BOC) I am, El Asso, you know that I am. But can't we go express our cultural heritage in some other way? Like, maybe, going home and watching Ugly Betty on TiVo? Oooh... We can watch Grey's Anatomy after!
Asso turns and slams the Bagman against the wall, getting in his face.
(El Asso Wipo)We are not going to go home and watch that Gringo Propaganda! In fact, I'm deleting both of those shows off of your Season Pass the moment we get home!
(Señor BOC)Damnit.
The LAX-itives enter the locker room and begin "tagging" the walls. El Asso starts writing "Gringo" in big green letters while Señor Bag of Crap draws a big, red, Smiling face on the opposite wall.
The door opens.
"What the ----?"
Nevermind that the last word was muted, we still know what was said. The LAX-itives turn around to face the ownes of this locker room, and one of the first two teams entered in Three Wishes. The Old School Empire. Earlier, we saw the duo defeat Ainsley Lake and Jester Smiles to qualify for the huge match. Señor Bag of Crap kind of shrugs towards the Thomas Brothers. Shane looks less than pleased, while Dustin is kind of amused. The younger brother points at Crap's smiley face.
(Dustin) Come on, dude. A smiley face?
Shane shakes his arms, getting limbered up.
(Shane) Let's kick their asses.
Dustin grabs Shane, and motions for him to stay put.
(Dustin) Bro, it's the Toiletries. Let them have their fun. They probably spent their Taco Bell money on the spray paint.
El Asso Wipo stalks across the locker room, and gets up in their faces.
(El Asso Wipo) We are no longer the Mexican Toiletries! We are now... the LAX-itives!!!
For one beat of time, Dustin and Shane just stare at him. The beat ends, and they both burst out laughing.
(Shane) You were right, Dust, they're crazy.
El Asso looks like he's ready to start a brawl right there, but Dustin looks around and turns serious for a moment.
(Dustin) Listen... LAX-itives... if you guys wants to make some kind of impression on the tag team division, then you all should get Buchanan to give you a qualfying match.
The former Toiletries look at one another, but Dustin doesn't give them a chance to speak as he's turned to Shane.
(Dustin) These idiots have given me an idea, bro. They want to serve notice to the Empire. Well, now the Empire needs to serve notice. Come on.
He slaps his brother's chest, and heads out the door. Shane heads for the door.
(Señor BOC) Tha...
Bag of Crap is cut off by a steely stare from El Asso. Alone in OSE's locker room once more, BOC begins putting some eyebrows on his smiley face.
(El Asso Wipo) This is all your fault.
Out.
(JB) Welcome back to Last Rites. Our next match will not be for the faint of heart. Former friends and tag team partners are going to square off in a ladder match to determine who gets the wish they won at the last Death Wish PPV. But I think it’s more personal than what it is. These guys want to rip each other apart.
(Tom) My wish came true, Mann-Wheel. The Wild Boys are no more. That’s one less eyesore than what we have to look at.
(JB) What are you talking about? The Wild Boys were one of the most successful tag teams in NAFW history. Now, they are no more, and it’s a real shame.
(Tom) It’s a real shame it didn’t happen sooner.
(JB) … Let’s just get to the ring.
(Troy) The following contest is a ladder match, where the winner receives the Wish that was won at the 2005 Death Wish PPV!
If you're feelin' it when I drop this
Snake comes out from the back with Wilson under his arm. He jumps around on the stage some before heading down the ramp and high fiving various fans.
(Troy) Making his way to the ring, From Portland, Oregon… weighing in at 220 lbs…. Snake!
Let's make it hot,
Let's shock 'em with the bodyrock,
'Till the party stops
It's time to take it up a notch,
And keep it locked,
For all the headbangers in the parking lot
Here we come, if you're ready or not,
No time to talk, 'cause we on the clock,
Bringin? that Uhh, uhh, to your block
Let me show ya where we're comin' from,
It don't stop, from L.A. to New York,
Show me what you got now!
Snake sets Wilson down on the ramp then raises his arms up in the air as more green pyro goes off behind him. He then picks up Wilson and makes his way down to the ring.
All I am, is what it will take to break this
All I know, is what it did take to make this,
All I am, is what it will take to break this
Light it up now, light it up now
Snake high fives some more fans before rolling into the ring and posing on the turnbuckle for some fans. He gets off the turnbuckle and sets Wilson in one of the corners as he awaits the start of the match.
(JB) There’s one half of the team formerly known as the Wild boys. He was the one that screwed up and caused all the mess by walking out of matches and making his partners life a living hell.
(Tom) He knew it was a lost cause. He knew that they had no future and no chance of ever progressing, so he knew he had to end it.
"Fully Alive" by Flyleaf hits the PA as the lights dim and then flicker out. Strobe lights flicker on as smoke fills the entryway and the ramp. All the sudden, a figure comes out from the back and stands in the smoke, right fist pumped up in the air. The strobe lights make the figure seem like it is blinking as the figure cuts through the smoke. The crowd cheers as it is NAFW's very own psycho, Crazy Boy.
(Troy) And his opponent, from Biloxi, Mississippi, weighing in at 225 pounds… Crazy Boy!
CB walks down the ramp, adknowledging the crowd as he slides under the bottom ropes. The lights flicker back on as CB pumps his fist in the air, runs around off the ropes and then turns, and faces his opponent.
(JB) Crazy Boy is not only a successful singles wrestler, but he is also very established in ladder matches. Snake may not know what hits him.
(Tom) Please. Snake is going to do the same thing that happened to Tyrone a week ago.. Beat him to a bloody pulp.
The referee is Phil Redding. He signals for the bell and the match is underway. Crazy Boy and Snake go the center of the ring and start to trash talk each other before they tie up. Both of them are trying to do a test of strength, but to no avail. Neither one of them is budging. Crazy boy tries a kick to the gut, but Snake catches it and tries to throw a punch to CB’s face. CB ducks out of the way as CB pushes snake back and charges at him. Snake senses it and moves out of the way, with CB bouncing off the ropes. They both turn to each other and stare at each other, trying to figure out how to get the upper hand.
(JB) They have been teaming up for so long, that both of them know each others move. It’s a complete stale mate right now.
(Tom) This is boring. I want blood. I want action. I want violence!
They both tie up again as CB puts a little more effort into it, and finally gets Snake lowered a little bit. A kick in the gut and CB finally has the upper hand. CB irish whips Snake into the ropes and hit’s a clothesline on Snake. Snake is slow to get back up as CB hit’s a flurry of punches to his former teammate. CB then picks up Snake and hit’s a belly-to-belly suplex on him. CB is the first one out of the ring as he grabs a ladder and throws it into the ring.
(JB) Here we go.. Ladder already coming into play. What’s the effect the ladder going to have on the match this early in the game?
(Tom) It’s a stupid move by Tyrone. Look at Snake, he’s up and about already.
Sure enough, as Crazy Boy climbs back into the ring, he looks up and receives a taste of cold steel against his head. Snake recovered and threw the ladder at CB, knocking him across the jaw. CB is motionless on the mat as Snake has an evil smile on his face. Snake grabs the ladder and sets it up under the wish that is hanging above. Snake starts to climb the ladder, CB still motionless on the mat.
(JB) Snake is trying to end this match early. This may be over before it even starts.
(Tom) Come on Snake! Show him that you aren’t a fluke! Show him that it was the right thing to do!
Snake gets about halfway up the ladder, when all the sudden a blur goes across the mat. Crazy Boy has recovered and grabs the waist of Snake and throws him to the mat. CB throws himself on top of Snake and throws some mounted punches on Snake, but Snake covers up his face and they really don’t have that much effect on him. CB picks up Snake and Irish whips him into the ropes again, but Snake holds to the ropes as Tyrone crashes and burns on a dropkick. Snake walks over and folds the ladder up and tries to hit CB with it, but CB rolls out of the way and trips Snake, causing him to drop the ladder.
Tyrone stands up and goes to the ropes. He climbs the turnbuckle and taunts his former partner as he stands up all woozy. Crazy Boy makes the leap of faith---- AND CONNECTS WITH THE CRAZY DROP!!!!
(JB) THE CRAZY DROP!!! CRAZY BOY HIT THAT WITH FULL FORCE!!!
(Tom) No! It cannot end like this!!! Get up Snake!! GET UP!!!
Crazy Boy, seeing that Snake is down for the count, picks up the ladder and sets it up, right under the wish. Crazy boy starts to climb the ladder.. Closer and closer he gets to the top, to where his fingertips are TOUCHING the wish. He tries to unhook it, when all the sudden he loses his balance. The ladder topples over and he takes a hard crash… down to the concrete floor. Crazy Boy rolls over, after hitting the security fence.. He has been busted open.
(JB) How in the world did Snake have enough energy to tip over the ladder, especially after a massive Crazy Drop like that.
(Tom) No Idea, Mann-itoba, but if it keeps that moron from winning the match, then I applaud him.
Snake slowly makes his way to his feet and stares down at the fallen Crazy One, who seems to be getting back to his feet. Snake bounces off the rope and takes launch over the top rope, hitting a picture-perfect moonsault over the top rope, onto Crazy Boy. Both men are on the floor as both are struggling and stirring to get up. Snake is the first one to get up as he picks up the Crazy One and whips him into the steel stairs. CB yells out in pain as he lies on the floor, holding his back. Snake climbs into the ring and grabs the ladder, setting it up again. He starts to climb it as CB struggles to his feet. CB slides under the ropes as Snake gets about halfway up and starts to climb the other side of the ladder. Both of them get to the top of the ladder and start to trade punches. Both of the sway, but refuse to let go off the ladder, until Snake decides to take matters into his own hands. He grabs CB by the neck.. And takes flight…. And the crowd gasps as they realize what he just hit….
The Venom Sting.
(JB) By Gord! That was a MASSIVE VENOM STING! THIS MATCH COULD BE OVER FOLKS!!!
(Tom) Go Snake! End this madness now!!!
Snake struggles to his feet as he starts to climb the ladder again. CB is motionless as Snake reaches the top of the ladder and tries to unhook the wish. It won’t come off though. The camera pans down and sees CB, with a last burst of energy reach forward and push the ladder over! Snake takes a tumble and hit’s the ropes, bouncing off of them and hitting the mat hard!
(JB) My Gord! Where are Snake and Tyrone getting this energy from? The match should have been well over by now!
(Tom) The madness continues!
Somehow, someway, Tyrone makes his way to his feet as Snake is now slumped and sitting in the corner. CB grabs the ladder and folds it up. He looks at the crowd, his face all crimson red with blood and takes charge at the fallen Snake. He rams the ladder into the head of Snake as Snake starts to bleed himself. Tyrone throws the ladder aside and picks up Snake and irish whips him into the other corner. Crazy boy takes charge for a clothesline, but Snake gets a boot up and kicks Tyrone in the face. Snake bounces off the ropes and tries an attempt himself, but CB ducks the attempt and turns around at the returning Snake and kicks him in the gut. He then signals to the crowd and picks up Snake vertically. Could it be? Crazy Boy spins around a little bit and CONNECTS with the CRAZY SLAM!!
(JB) CRAZY SLAM!! CRAZY SLAM!! BY GORD! TYRONE HAS DONE IT!!
(Tom) But look at your “hero”, Mann-wich. That Crazy Slam has sapped the last bit of strength out of Tyrone.
Sure enough, both men are on the mat, CB completely exhausted as neither one of them is moving. Crazy is the first to his feet, and slowly begins climbing the ladder. Meanwhile, Snake crawls to the corner and picks up Wilson.
Crazy's at the top of the ladder, just about to grab the Wish, when Snake whips Wilson at the contract. He connects, and Wilson falls to the mat, the contract coming down along with him.
(Tom) Snake's going to grab the Wish!
(JB) Wait, CB is flying!
Crazy leaps into the air but he MISSES as he attempts to save the Wish! CB hits the mat hard as Redding rings the bell because Snake has grabbed the Wish as it floated down.
(JB) Snake has won the Wild Boys' wish!
(Tom) He's not done yet either!
Snake goes crazy, pun intended. He slams the Ladder down on CB, and begins picking the ladder up and dropping it on CB's head and neck over and over again.
(JB) Stop this brutal assault Redding!
(Tom) Or take your time, either way.
With Crazy lying flat on the mat, crumpled under the weight of the ladder, Snake goes and picks up Wilson. He then heads for the back.
(JB) If the Wild Boys weren't over before, the definitely are now.
(Tom) Good riddance, Mann-itoba! Snake doesn't need this to carry this bag of crap anymore.
Death Wish Hype Starts Early!!
We cut from the image of Snake celebrating his win to a more somber image. His head bowed, Mike Lane is sitting in solitude. The metal folding chair creaks as he adjusts his weight and pops his back. He's still got a sheen of sweat from the earlier match, which saw he and Spaz defeat Ron Barker. Keith Owens was there too, but left his partner out to dry. They've now qualified to compete in the main event of the next pay per view event, Death Wish, in the Three Wishes match. He has his head cradled in his hands, as he relaxes. Well, he meant to anyway.
(Twitch) Micky Line!!!
Lane lifts his head, and stares at the manager. He just shakes his head, before resuming his previous position.
(Twitch) Twitch needs Micky to sign his tunic.
Lane looks up again, and Twitch thrusts the white tunic into Lane's face. The former Foundation Champion looks around for a moment, before taking a deep breath.
(Lane) Alrighty, man. Got a pen?
Twitch produces a ball point, and hands Lane both the tunic and the pen. He looks around the room for a moment while Lane puts his John Hancock on the tunic.
(Twitch) Where's Pez? Twitch doesn't see him.
Lane smiles, and nods his head offscreen.
(Lane) He hit the showers after our match... speak of the devil...
The fans in the arena can be heard popping as Spaz walks out into view of the camera. His hair is still wet, but he has a smile on his face.
(Spaz) Twitch, good to see you found Mike.
(Twitch) Twitch liked watching his clients kick Ron Barker's butt.
The door opens offscreen, and Twitch scurries behind Spaz and Lane. Lane stands up, letting the tunic fall to the ground, and his chair fly backwards. Spaz steps up beside his partner. The camera pans around to show our new entrants.
The Old School Empire?
(Dustin) Hope you boys had fun out there earlier.
The two teams move to meet one another face to face, with Twitch cowering behind his clients. Both of the Thomas Brothers are still sweating from their match earlier. The team defeated Ainsley Lake and Jester Smiles to qualify for Three Wishes.
(Lane) Oh don't worry, we had a blast.
(Shane) That'll be the last time it happens for you boys. We're serving notice to the "NAFW Originals."
Said Originals aren't exactly shivering from fear here.
(Spaz) We'll take that under consideration...
(Lane) ...and then you can take your notice, and shove it up your ass!
The Empire begin to chuckle. Shane indicates Spaz.
(Shane) Why should we be afraid of the Candy Man here? We're a little too old for lollypops.
Dustin looks Lane in the eye, and smirks.
(Dustin) And why should we fear Mister Superstar here? The man who is supposedly the greatest wrestler alive, yet he still got his ass kicked by Sebastian Hawke.
They arrogantly smirk in the faces of Lane and Spaz. The veteran duo aren't here to dissapoint, however.
(Spaz) Tell us something, boys. Why should we be afraid of The Alpha? I may be the Candy Man, but you might as well call him Juice Boy.
Twitch pumps his fist in the background.
(Twitch) Good one, Pez!
(Lane) And what about the king of the New School here? All those flippy moves, but he still doesn't have a set of balls.
The two teams are now up in each other's faces talking shit. Finally, Shane pulls Dustin away, and they head for the door.
(Shane) We'll see you boys at Three Wishes, where the Old School Empire will ascend to their thrones, and take not only a Wish, but the Foundation Tag Team Championship!
(Twitch) Twitch highly doubts that.
Shane raises his arm in a slapping motion to Twitch, but Dustin begins to chuckle. He pulls open the door, and looks at the veterans.
(Dustin) I'll say this, guys. You two may actually have a chance in Three Wishes. Luckily, it's not a fan vote, so you're not guaranteed a loss.
The duo crack up, and Shane heads out of the room. Dustin lingers for one more moment.
(Dustin) So just remember. When our boy Trevor Cunning goes out tonight to challenge Old Man River for the Foundation Title, you guys just keep in mind that it could have been you.
The door shuts, leaving behind a seething Lane, and an amused Spaz. Twitch claps both men on the back.
(Spaz) They have a lot of nerve.
He shakes his head, and looks at Twitch.
(Spaz) What do you need?
(Twitch) Umm... Twitch can't remember what it was he needed.
He turns and walks away, looking very confused. Spaz claps Lane on the back, and heads back into the shower area. Lane rights his folding chair, and sits back down, but this time he doesn't sit still for long. He picks up the tunic, and stares down at it for a moment.
(Lane) Idiot forgot the damn tunic.
He throws it down, and relaxes his head into his hands.
(Tom) Hey, Mann-Chowder, did you hear? Del Carver isn’t going to be…
(JB) Oh, don’t start his crap again.
(Tom) What crap?
(JB) Spreading rumors like you did about poor little Ainsley Lake.
(Tom) Now what makes you think that…
(Kramer) Hellllllllllooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!
(Tom) Oh sweet, baby Jesus tap-dancing Christ speaking phonetically on a pony! What the blood are you doing here?
(Kramer) I’m beginning a new tradition, Kalhoun.
(Tom) Which would be?
(Kramer) Saving our beloved audience from having to listen to you prattle on, all night.
(JB) Well, Kramer, welcome to the booth.
(Kramer) It’s a pleasure, JB, as always.
(JB) How do you feel about giving us a rundown on the main event?
(Tom) C’mon Mann-Hole, no one cares what this nitwit has to say!
(Kramer) Can it, Kalhoun. I’ve got clout you know.
(Tom) I didn’t realize you could catch that from running a website, you pencil necked geek.
(Kramer) What the…
(Tom) GO HAVE SEX WITH A WOMAN!
(JB) Kramer, your thoughts?
(Kramer) Now, I’m willing to assume that you’re willing to assume that Trevor Cunning has the advantage here tonight.
(Tom) Brilliant assumption, Krispy Krame. Cunning’s already pinned Carver twice.
(Kramer) While that may be true, Kalhoun, Trevor Cunning has never pinned Carver in a singles match, and he’s never been able to trump Carver in a fair, one on one fight.
(JB) That’s true, Kramer. Every time Carver and Cunning have been on an equal playing field, it’s been Diamond Del that’s left the Godfather lying bloody.
(Kramer) With the element of surprise completely eliminated, I’ve got to go with the experience of Diamond Del Carver.
(Tom) I’d ask if you were stupid, but I already know the answer to that question. Mann-at Work, Michael Richards, do you really think that an elderly, denim wearing, redneck loser who listens to Carrie Underwood in his underroos… and yes, Kramer, your father’s not the only one who does that, could ever hope to beat an Ivy League educated, Division One athlete?
It’s like running a jackass against a thoroughbred. Or asking Twitch to go on Jeopardy… you’re always going to lose.
(Kramer) There’s nothing wrong with Carrie Underwood.
(JB) I guess we’ll just have to agree to disagree.
(Tom) I’ll agree that Kramer’s an asshole.
(Kramer) Speaking of assholes…
(JB) The challenger has arrived.
Thin whispers fade into thick and heavy bass lines, notes dripping from the speakers like maple syrup. This is Tool. This is “Sober.” Trevor Cunning steps through the curtain as soon as the guitars screech in, stumbling through the curtains with a bottle of Jack Daniels in hand. Tonight, Cunning sports a pair of polos, jet black beneath blood red, on top of his navy blue and gray singlet.
He stops at the top of the ramp to bask in the unmitigated hatred, soaking in the vitriolic bile spewing forth from every man, woman and child in the arena like a sponge takes in water. He waits, reveling in the moment, until he’s full and content, ready to let the rage drip down and explode inside the ring.
(JB) How the hell did this jerk win Vote or Die?
(Kramer) Well, think of it like George Bush winning the presidency. All the others… Spaz, Lane, etcetera, they all canceled each other out.
(Tom) Or the fans hate Carver.
(JB) I doubt that, Bear.
(Tom) Well, a vote for Trevor Cunning is a vote for a new Foundation Heavyweight Champion.
(Kramer) Keep dreaming, Kalhoun.
(Tom) Cunning has Carver’s number. You know it, I know it, and the fans know it. The world is ready for Trevor Cunning: Foundation Heavyweight Champion.
Cunning moves down the ramp, swatting fans hands away as they try to touch his arms and back. Once he reaches the apron, the Godfather takes a long swig from his ever-present whisky bottle; steps back, and spits a fine, sticky haze into the air. He then steps through the ropes, peels off his polos, and begins stretching on the ropes.
(JB) Conspicuous by their absence are one Keith Owens and one Melissa Hayes.
(Kramer) I have a sinking feeling we’ll see them before this match is over.
(Tom) I would certainly hope so.
(JB) The arena’s gone quiet.
(Kramer) It’s called anticipation… this place is about to explode.
”South Texas Deathride” by Union Underground starts to play. The arena does, in fact, explode, for the man, the legend: Diamond Del Carver.
(Tom) I knew it! The coward knew he was beat so he didn’t even show!
(Kramer) Can it Kalhoun!
(Tom) I’ll can your mother, Kram-a-lam-a Ding Dong.
A spotlight starts to scan the crowd, and the camera follows. The light comes to a sudden stop on the second deck, where standing in the middle of a crowd of cheering fans, we see Diamond Del Carver. The Hardcore Outlaw is standing calmly amidst a hoard of cheering fans, who are slapping him on the back. Carver is decked out in his usual black biker boots, faded jeans, and he is wearing a sleeveless T-shirt with the Last Rites: Anointed With Blood logo emblazoned across the chest. The Foundation Heavyweight Championship sits on his shoulder, gold glistening in the arena lights. As always, Carver has a black leather eyepatch covering his left eye. Carver also has a small brown mini-cigar clenched between his teeth, and a calm expression on his face.
(Tom) What a cocky son of a bitch!
(Kramer) It’s hard not to be cocky when you know you’re good.
(JB) Del Carver defeated five men, three in one night, on his way to the Foundation Heavyweight Championship.
(Kramer) And one of those guys he defeated was Trevor Cunning.
(Tom) All those years of working with Twitch really made you into a moron, didn’t they Cosmo? That match ended in a disqualification… when Cunning decided he’d rather break Del Carver’s ribs than pin his shoulders to the mat.
(JB) Despite the broken ribs, Bear, Del Carver still managed to beat …., Ron Barker, and Keith Owens all in one evening.
(Kramer) Correct me if I’m wrong, but was Trevor Cunning even on the card? I don’t remember him wrestling, do you, JB?
(JB) No, Kramer, I sure don’t.
(Tom) What the hell is going on here? Am I the only one who sees Del Carver for the selfish jerk he really is?
(JB) Whatever do you mean, Bear?
(Tom) This jerk’s only using the NAFW to help build his own legacy. There’s no loyalty, no honor.
(Kramer) All qualities Cunning possesses, I suppose?
(Tom) You better believe it. Just look at how tight he and my man Keith Owens are.
(Kramer) So tight that Cunning was willing to pull a smear campaign against his so-called best friend on national television, right?
(Tom) That was Spaz and Lane and you know it. That crap had Twitch written all over it. Besides, who the hell is afraid of the elderly, anyway?
(JB) It’s their hands, really, how they’re all clear and veiny.
(Kramer) Are you all right, JB?
(Tom) Yeah, Mann-Chowder, you seem spooked.
(JB) I’m sorry I never visited you, Pop Pop.
(Kramer and Tom) Ok…
Finally, as the music continues to play and the camera follows him, Diamond Del Carver starts to make his way through the crowd. He descends the stairs from the upper level to the floor level seats in the arena, and then he starts to weave his way through the fans, to the ringside area. Carver is slapping high fives with many of the fans as he works his way through the people. Finally, he makes it to the ringside area, where he climbs over the crowd barricade, and casually rolls into the ring. Diamond Del Carver walks across the ring, climbs to the top turnbuckle, and holds his arms out to the fans. The crowd roars in recognition and appreciation.
(JB) The Champ is here!
(Tom) Be careful Mann-Wagon! That phrase might be trademarked.
(JB) By who?
(Kramer) He who shall not be named!
(Tom) Lord Voldemort? Christ Krambles, haven’t I told you not to talk about Harry Potter when we’re on the air? I mean sure, you can wear your wizard robes in the back for everyone to laugh at you but…
(Kramer) Does he always ramble on like this?
(JB) Only sometimes. Depends on how much coffee he’s had.
(Troy) This match is scheduled for one fall and is for the Foundation Heavyweight Championship! There will be no disqualifications and no count outs.
There must be a winner.
Our challenger weighs in tonight at a svelte yet frighteningly strong two hundred and seventy six pounds. He hails from Greenwich, Connecticut, but now considers this great city of Chicago, Illinois to be his home. He is a former Intercontinental Champion, and a member of the Trust Fund Kids. Ladies and Gentlemen: TREVORRRR CUNNNNNNNNNINGGGGGGGG!
(Troy) Your Champion weighs in this evening at two hundred and … pounds. He makes his home deep in the heart of …. Texas! He is an industry legend, having won World Championships in OPW, SHOOT Project, Mexico, Japan and Kazakhstan.
(Tom) Very nice.
(JB) I like.
(Troy) He is your current North American Foundation of Wrestling Foundation Heavyweight Champion! Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you: DIAMOND DELLLL CAAAAAARRRRRRVVVVEEERRRRRR!
Carver hands the Foundation Heavyweight Championship to Walt Mason, who presents the title belt to Trevor Cunning. The Godfather takes a long, intense look at the big, gold belt, then begins jawing at Carver, bringing his hands across his waist to make the universal symbol for “I’m taking your title.”
Mason returns to the center of the ring, holds the title high above his skull, and tonight’s competitors meet, one on either side. They immediately press together, chest to chest, forehead to forehead, nose to nose.
For the sake of the children, there’s silence in the ring, the insults and cussing muffled by the roar of the crowd and the mindless prattle of our beloved announce team.
(JB) The hatred radiating forth from these two is immense.
(Tom) What did you expect, Mann of Le Mancha, that these two would be having tea and crumpets, then decide the Foundation Heavyweight Championship with a friendly game of Twister?
(JB) Don’t give AiR any ideas, should he ever choose to return, Bear.
(Tom) Cunning and Carver have been making each other’s lives hell since Hector Gonzales, in his infinite wisdom, decided to reestablish the North American Foundation of Wrestling. Now one of them is going to have his life ended, tonight!
(Kramer) Ended?
(Tom) SNUFF him out Trev!
(JB) There’s the bell.
Trevor is the first to break the deadlock. He turns away from Del, then turns back rapidly, swinging and slapping the Foundation Heavyweight Champion right across his face.
(Kramer) Carver didn’t even flinch.
Cunning shoves Del, trying to raise his ire. Carver simply steps up, stoic, and gets right back in Cunning’s face.
(Tom) What a puss in those dumb leather boots!
(JB) Carver’s showing no fear, no emotion right now. He’s dead set on keeping his Foundation Heavyweight Championship, no matter what Trevor Cunning does.
Cunning starts mouthing off, getting frustrated with his inability to rile Carver up. He steps back, and spits, connecting with a perfect bullseye in Diamond Del’s good eye. Carver steps back as if he’s been shot. He looks at Cunning, standing smug and confident, and slowly wipes the spit from his eye.
(Kramer) Now that’s just…
(Tom) Awesome?
(JB) Disrespectful.
Del lunges forward, connecting with a huge right hand. The two competitors begin exchanging lefts and rights, tumbling back towards the entrance side ropes. Cunning takes over, heavy fists already leaving potatoes on Del Carver’s skull. He irish-whips Carver across the ring, ducks a Cunning lariat, and continues running the ropes. Cunning looks to leapfrog Carver on the return, but Del stops as soon as he approaches Trevor. Carver grabs Cunning around the waist and pulls him down into an inverted atomic drop.
(Tom) That’s nuts!
(Kramer) Don’t you mean those were nuts?
(Tom) Can it, Kramer. You run under the leapfrog, then drop down on the return… that’s how the spot works.
(JB) Spot?
(Tom) It happens in every damn match, ever!
(Kramer) I don’t know what you’re talking about.
(JB) Neither do I.
(Kramer) Just look at Carver, peppering Cunning with right hands.
Those heavy fists turn to chops, and Cunning slowly stumbles back towards the ropes. He’s got one hand on his gonads, another attempting to protect his face. Carver switches to chops, peeling off his fingerless gloves to leave larger welts on Cunning’s flesh. With Trevor on the ropes, Carver sends him back towards the entrance with an irish-whip. He follows, hitting a thunderous Diamond Line to take Trevor over the top to the outside.
(JB) Del Carver won’t say die!
(Tom) Cunning sure will, Mann-Wheel. Die Carver Die!
(Kramer) Look at Cunning, throwing a tantrum like an infant on the outside.
Cunning kicks the steel ring steps, and begins slamming his fists down on the ring apron. Carver hits the ropes, and slides under the bottom on the return, looking for a baseball slide. Cunning however, side steps, pulling the ring skirt out and trapping Del between the apron and the skirt.
(Tom) What a genius, suckering Carver in like that.
(Kramer) That certainly is an unorthodox counter to as baseball slide, that’s for sure.
(Tom) Carver’s phoning it in. It’s almost as if he doesn’t care if he loses the Championship.
Cunning ducks low and buries a shoulder in Carver’s midsection, before standing up and slapping him hard across the face. Del tosses his arms up to defend himself, but has to turn his back on Trevor to try and slide back in the ring. As he does, Cunning knocks him silly with a sledgehammer to the back of the skull.
Cunning rolls Del back in the ring and mounts him, tossing thick, soupbone rights into the champ’s skull. He then chokes Carver, ignoring Walt Mason’s five count.
(JB) Let him up already, Cunning!
(Tom) The Godfather can do whatever he wants, Mann-Bear-Pig! No disqualifications mean the Godfather can choke Del Carver until he’s blue in the face.
Cunning eventually pulls Del Carver to his feet and irish-whips him. On the return, Cunning hits a Polish Hammer.
(Kramer) Shades of Ivan Putski!
(Tom) Who?
(JB) Ivan Putski, the legendary Polish Hammer.
(Tom) A Polish Hammer? What’s that, made of glass?
(Kramer) He’s going to start telling Polish jokes, now… isn’t he?
(JB) Probably.
(Tom) Hey Mann-Hole… do you know what the Polish submarine sank?
(Kramer) So now I have to apologize to gay people and Polish people on the website. Is there anyone else you want to offend while you’re at it, Kalhoun?
(Tom) I’ll probably piss off the Jews and the Muslims at some point.
(JB) Great.
With Carver staggered, Cunning hooks him and hits a Fisherman’s suplex. He covers for two. Cunning yells at Mason to count faster, and then begins pulling Carver up by his hair. He tosses Del in the corner, chops him once, and then spits in his face again.
(Kramer) I can’t believe the disrespect that Trevor Cunning is showing to Del Carver. After all that Del has accomplished in this business… hell in the short time he’s been in the NAFW.
(JB) Cunning might be arrogant, Kramer, but as you well know, he can back up his arrogance with actual talent…
(Tom) I’m impressed Mann-Wagon
(JB) Provided he can stay sober long enough to find the ring.
(Tom) I was impressed.
The indignity sets Carver off like a firecracker. He pulls Cunning in by his neck and begins bashing him in the nose and eye sockets with solid right hands before choking the Godfather down into the corner. Carver stomps down on Cunning’s head, neck and shoulders, before pressing his foot into Cunning’s throat.
(Kramer) That is why you don’t disrespect Diamond Del. The man has been in Death Matches around the globe… I’m pretty sure he can handle the Godfather.
Cunning sits in the corner, trying to regain his composure. Carver steps back across the ring, charges in, and hits a baseball slide right between the Godfather’s legs.
(JB) That’s one way to do it.
(Tom) I’d say that blatant low blow was uncalled for if I didn’t respect it… just a little.
Cunning rolls into the center of the ring, where Carver covers for his first two count of the match. Carver pulls Cunning to his feet, and irish-whips him across the ring. A discus punch on the return plants Cunning right on his ass. Cunning scrambles to his feet, only to walk right into a spinning forearm smash. Again, Cunning stumbles to a vertical base, punch drunk instead of shitfaced, only this time; he walks right into an Exploder suplex.
(Kramer) Whatamaneuver!
(Tom) Why do I feel like I’m in the eighties all of a sudden?
(JB) Could be your haircut.
(Kramer) Or your clothes.
(Tom) Or your inability to call such a simple wrestling move… go back to Carnage you hack.
(Kramer) Really Kalhoun? What was that called?
(Tom) The shut up before I stab your jaw with a fork.
Again, Carver covers for two.
Again Trevor Cunning kicks out.
Carver rallies the fans behind him, the cheers and intensity emanating forth from the crowd growing as Carver raises his arms. He bends over to pick Cunning up, but the Godfather was waiting, and instead wraps him in a small package. That gets two. Carver attempts an elbow drop on Cunning as he tries to get up, misses, and rolls around. Cunning is on his knees, Carver behind him.
(Kramer) Hey Kalhoun, ask your wife about that position.
Carver manages to grab Trevor around the head and neck, and applies his patented Carver Clutch.
(JB) Look at Cunning’s eyes bulge out of his sockets.
(Tom) That’s perfectly normal.
(Kramer) Just because you walk around looking surprised all the time doesn’t mean it’s normal for the rest of us, Kalhoun.
(Tom) I was actually thinking of your mother Kramer when she’s su…
(JB) Anyways!
Carver applies greater torque, and the Godfather starts to slump. Walt Mason grabs Trevor’s hand, raises it high, and it drops once. He tries a second attempt, and Cunning’s hand falls again. The fans start chanting, ready for Diamond Del to choke the Godfather out once and for all. On the third attempt, Cunning raises his hand high, and slowly battles to his feet.
(Tom) There’s some resiliency, right there for you.
(Kramer) More like dumb luck.
(Tom) Dumb luck… you’re a dumb f…
(JB) Alright! The FCC is watching!
(Tom) Well [bleep] them too.
Cunning goes over towards the ropes, and steps between the top and middle rope. Thanks to the rules, or lack thereof, Carver doesn’t have to break. Cunning realizes this a second later, as he moves closer to the corner. He jumps, and pushes off the top rope, landing directly on top of Del Carver. This breaks the hold. Cunning rolls into the corner, pulling himself to his feet slowly. Del Carver meanwhile, has regained a vertical base and is charging in towards Cunning full steam.
(JB) Carver, with the blind charge.
(Tom) Those never pay off.
(Kramer) Like you and debt, right Kalhoun?
Cunning side steps and tosses Carver, shoulder first, into the ring post. He falls to one knee.
(Tom) Told you so!
Cunning is the first to regain his composure, and takes advantage of Del Carver’s mistake. He pulls him out from between the turnbuckles and tosses him into the ring post again focusing on the left shoulder. A third toss to the ringpost follows, before Cunning dives outside the ring.
(JB) That could easily have dislocated, or even broken Del Carver’s shoulder.
(Kramer) What the hell could Cunning be thinking of now?
(Tom) Pain.
Cunning rips Troy Gilmore off of his seat and takes the announcer’s steel chair. He folds it, steel clanging against steel, and bangs the chair twice against the concrete. He gets to Carver, who’s still lying chest down on the turnbuckle, head against the ringpost, winds up and swings.
(JB) Don’t do that!
(Kramer) Concussion city, here we come.
(Tom) Population: Diamond Del Carver
The chair clangs against the post with a reverberant echo, the vibrations knocking it out of Trevor Cunning’s hands. Carver managed to move at the last second, saving his brain from what could have been permanent damage.
(Tom) Damnit! Damnit! Damnit!
Carver rolls down to the ring apron and out to the ringside area. He struggles, but manages to make it to where Cunning stands, rubbing his hands together trying to get some feeling back. Carver knees Cunning in the midsection, and then pulls him by the hair, using his bad left arm to do so.
(Kramer) Now it’s time for Cunning to taste the steel.
(JB) Carver really should be protecting that left arm, though.
As if he heard JB, Cunning simply sweeps the arm away, and pushes Del Carver into the steel ring post, bad shoulder first. Carver bounces off, back towards the Godfather, who lifts Carver up and drops him with a belly to back suplex on the concrete.
(Kramer) Did you hear Carver’s head bounce off the mats like that? It sounded like a honeydew melon hitting a brick wall.
(Tom) That’s weird. I thought it sounded like angels orgasming.
Cunning drags Carver to his feet and irish-whips him towards the ringsteps. Carver reverses, sending Carver flying knees first over the steel and onto the other side.
(JB) They’re right in front of us now!
Carver follows Cunning, bringing him to his feet, hitting a pair of fists and a pair of chops. He drags Trevor over towards the steel guardrail and lifts him, crotching the Godfather on the railing.
(Tom) You know, Mann-Hole… this match is going to severely limit Cunning’s chances of having children one day.
(Kramer) Great. Now all we have to do is keep you from reproducing and we’re guaranteed another hundred years without the Anti-Christ.
(Tom) How else would you explain JB’s wife?
(JB) Now that’s not… Oh My God!
While the announcers were bickering, Carver took advantage of Trevor’s precarious position perched atop the guardrail. He simply wrapped his arms around Cunnings head and neck and falling backwards, tossed Trevor onto the announce table.
(Kramer) Now this is what I call a front row seat!
Carver begins wiping the table clean, pulling off monitors and clipboards. The announcers scramble away, giving the Champ room to do his dirty work. Carver takes the final monitor and begins smashing Cunning over the skull with it, bringing it down across the Godfather’s forehead until he’s busted Cunning wide open.
Carver climbs up on the table with Cunning, and places Cunning’s head between his legs. If JB could talk to you right now, he’d start screaming Diamond Death Drop, and then Bear would make a mother joke, and Kramer would shut him down… you know, the usual.
Before Carver can drop Cunning however, the Godfather slumps to his knees and low blows Carver. He follows up with a desperation boot to the gut and a double arm DDT. The table collapses to the floor and the fans begin chanting “Holy Shit.” When Carver rolls onto his back, we find that he too is now bleeding.
Carver is the first to roll out of the wreckage, slumping against the steel ringsteps. Cunning however, is first to his feet, pulling himself up with the help of the guardrail.
(JB) We’re back fans, sans table.
(Tom) Thank Gord I wore pants today.
(Kramer and JB) You aren’t kidding.
(JB) Wait, what are you doing? What do you want?
Cunning pulls JB off of his chair, and takes the executive desk chair over towards Del. He lifts it high in the air and tosses it, spiking the heavy, weighted wheelbase off of Carver’s skull.
(Tom) Now that’s the best use I’ve ever seen that chair been put to.
(JB) Great, just great he… thanks for the folding chair, Kramer.
(Kramer) I do what I can.
(Tom) How cute, just like the retarded kid at Stop and Shop who bags my groceries.
Cunning rolls Carver into the ring and begins fishing underneath for things. He pulls out a pair of steel chairs and tosses them in, hitting Carver in the back with surprising accuracy. The next item he removes, however, is a little surprising.
(Kramer) Is that?
(JB) He had to have planted that himself… why else would there be a…
(Tom) Tappa Kegga BREW!!!!!!
(Kramer) Those things weigh hundreds of pounds!
Cunning lifts the keg, grunting as he rolls it under the bottom rope, and returns underneath for one final item.
(JB) Wait, that’s not all, Cunning has a spool of barbed wire too!
(Tom) Well, I guess you can say he’s getting straight to the point.
(Kramer) Ugh.
(JB) The last thing we need tonight is some ultraviolence!
(Tom) That’s exactly what we need, Mann-Chowder. Buchanan said for them to work this out of their systems… and that’s exactly what they’re doing right now.
Cunning rolls under the bottom rope, spool of wire in tow, and immediately dives on top Carver. He brings the wire down across the Champion’s forehead and begins grinding it back and forth, using Carver as a cheese grater.
(Kramer) That is a lot of blood.
(JB) Stop this Mason!
(Tom) He can’t, Mann-itoba! No DQ!
(JB) Then stop the damn match then!
Content, Cunning rolls off of Carver and rights the keg in the center of the ring. He begins unrolling the spool around the keg, covering the sides with the razor sharp barbs.
(JB) Trevor Cunning has wrapped a beer keg in barbed wire!
(Tom) What a poignant statement about the dangers of drinking.
(Kramer) Or proof that Cunning should be committed for the sake of public safety.
Cunning sets the keg up in the center of the ring on its side, using the barbed wire to keep the keg in place.
(Kramer) What the hell is he doing?
(Tom) Proving a point.
Cunning pulls Carver to his feet and irish-whips him across the ring. Cunning goes low on the return, bring Carver face first on the steel and wire.
(Kramer) Drop toehold on the keg!
(Tom) If Carver wasn’t bleeding before, he sure will be now!
Cunning again pounces on Carver, smashing him face first repeatedly into the steel and rubbing his face back and forth across the wire strands. We’re at about 0.8 Muta when Cunning pulls him back to his feet, and again, irish-whips him across the ring.
(Kramer) I don’t know how Del Carver is still breathing, let alone standing.
(JB) Oh my God! Back body drop on the barbed wire keg!
(Tom) Did you see the way Carver’s spine bent when he landed, Mann-Wagon? Only Scandinavian yoga instructors can move their bodies that way.
(JB) Odd metaphor, Bear.
(Tom) I should introduce you to Inga. She makes your mother look like a horse’s brown eye.
With Carver’s back still draped across the keg, Cunning hits the ropes, and jumps high into the air on the return, crashing down across Carver’s chest with a leg drop.
(Tom) There goes his neck.
(JB) Just cover him already. C’mon Cunning! You don’t have to cripple the man!
(Tom) Au contraire; Mann-Hole. The Godfather promised to end Diamond Del’s career, and that he’s damn well about to do.
Cunning doesn’t move Carver, doesn’t try for a pin. He instead moves to the turnbuckle and climbs the top rope. With Carver’s back still perched across the barbed wire keg, Cunning leaps into the air, looking for a picture perfect Savage Style Elbow.
(JB) That’s impressive hang time
(Tom) Hangover Time. Get it right.
Luckily for Del, he manages to sit up in the nick of time. The point of Cunning’s elbow hits the keg, the sound of bone on steel echoing with a sickening crack.
(Tom) Balls!
(Kramer) I think I heard a crack.
(JB) Trevor Cunning could very well have broken his elbow on that one.
As Cunning rolls around on the mat, clutching his elbow and screaming obscenities that I dare not repeat for the fear of virgin eyes… I’m looking at you Harry, Tyler… viewing this, Del Carver sits up and throws his body forward, landing chest first on the top rope. He stumbles, bleeding buckets, holding himself up on the ropes as he moves towards Cunning. He swings one foot forward, kicking the Godfather in the jaw as he tries to get to his feet, before falling forward right next to a steel chair.
(JB) I think Carver just found what he was looking for.
Delroy Carver grabs the folding chair, and using it as a crutch, brings himself to his knees. Cunning crawls over and swings, but Carver puts the chair up to block. Trevor shakes his hand in pain as Carver swings the chair and connects with Cunning’s injured elbow. A second swing, this one in a downward motion, brings Cunning to the mat.
(Tom) Welcome to Concussion City.
(JB) Population: Trevor Cunning.
Carver pushes up on the chair and regains a vertical base. He begins looking around for something, scanning the ring until he finds the half empty spool of barbed wire. With the spool in hand, Carver begins wrapping the wire around his chair, finally burying the chair in Cunning’s lower back once finished.
Cunning rolls over, chair still stuck to his flesh, and Carver dives on top. He begins tossing heavy rights into Cunnings bleeding forehead, trying to bust him open even further. Wire in hand, he does unto Cunning as Cunning doth unto him.
(Kramer) Turn around is fair play!
(Tom) Not when the guy I like is on the receiving end!
(Kramer) Speaking of receiving ends, Kalhoun… how’s your mother?
(JB) Both Cunning and Carver are now dripping blood.
The fans are solidly behind Del Carver as he raises his arms in celebration. Carver waits, stomping on the mat and beating his fist against his chest, while Cunning struggles to get to a vertical base. The moment he does…
(JB) Diamond Cutter!
(Kramer) The cover!
1.
2.
Yeah. No.
(Tom) Thank Gord that Cunning just kicked out. I don’t know what I would’ve done.
(Kramer) Gone to Seven-Eleven, bought a dozen microwave burritos, and then eaten them crying in front of the television with no pants on?
(Tom) Do you have a camera in my house or something? Gord!
(Kramer) …
(Tom) Who invited you to the damn booth anyway?
Carver sees the keg and flashes back to the second edition of Annihilation, when the steel nearly shattered his ribcage. He pulls Cunning to his feet, irish-whip, and as if the previous scene was replayed with the roles reversed, Del Carver drop toeholds Cunning onto the keg.
(Tom) Not his perfect nose!
(Kramer) I’d worry about more than that Kalhoun!
(JB) As if Cunning wasn’t bleeding enough.
Cunning is lying face down on the keg when Carver steps to the opposite side. Carver pulls Cunning’s head between his legs, then picks him high into the air and drops him with the Carver Crunch!
(JB) Powerbomb on the keg!
(Kramer) Trevor Cunning was twenty-five. He is missed by no one.
Cunning rolls off the cylinder, back spasming.
(JB) Cover him, Del!
(Kramer) Why isn’t he going for the pin?
Carver grabs the ropes and shakes them, screaming like a banshee. He rolls the keg over to the corner where Cunning lays, still prone, and takes a seat on the top turnbuckle.
(Tom) He’s not doing what I think he’s doing? Is he?
(Kramer) Del Carver is going to break Trevor Cunning’s sternum!
(JB) I have to wonder, with his bad arm and the damage that keg has already done to Carver’s back… can Del Carver even lift it?
Carver does, indeed lift the keg, and once he has it a good ten feet in the air, drops the keg, the full weight of beer, steel and barbed wire landing square on Trevor Cunning’s chest! Cue the Holy Shit! chant.
(JB) This is what I call a measure of revenge!
(Kramer) I prefer poetic irony.
(Tom) What about a waking nightmare?
(Kramer) More like a wet dream.
Cunning begins convulsing, a primal scream permeating every fiber of his very being. He starts grabbing his chest and ribs but whether he’s trying to set bones or massage away an unassailable anguish is uncertain.
(Kramer) It’s like raaiiiiinnnn on your wedding day.
(Tom) Just shut up, Kramer.
(Kramer) It’s a steel keeeegggg breaking your ribs and costing you the title when you’re a worthless jackass alcoholic.
(Tom) I hate you.
(Kramer) I hate you more.
(JB) Carver with the cover.
Walt Mason slides into position, and begins the count. His hand falls to the mat once. Twice. Three times would mean victory.
At this point, you’re probably asking yourself why I haven’t just told you if Del Carver won or lost, and why I’m taking the opportunity to write a lengthy interlude telling you what you in fact are already thinking. Kind of Douglas Adams of me, no? Regardless, the reason I haven’t told you that the match is over, because it isn’t.
Then again, you already looked at the scroll bar on the side of your web browser and saw you had a few more pages to go, didn’t you?
Now that you know the result, all that’s left to divulge is the reason for this particular result. Just what exactly made a difference for Trevor Cunning, and saved both his Foundation Heavyweight Championship aspirations, but provided him with a second opportunity to satiate his desire to end Carver’s career.
I bet you already knew it was Keith Owens, didn’t you? Reading ahead? You cheeky monkey.
Owens pulls Mason out of the ring to break the count.
(Tom) Told you he’d show up!
The fans boo hysterically, some throwing trash, cups of soda, and even half eaten hotdogs into the ring. Owens enters and immediately begins brawling with Carver the pair rolling back towards a neutral corner.
(JB) This son of a bitch can’t let this be a fair fight, can he?
(Tom) This is fair, Mann-Wagon. No DQ!
Suddenly, Carver gets a second wind. He turns the table on Owens, and immediately begins utilizing his adrenaline rush to start beating Owens down in the corner.
(JB) That’s what you get Keith Owens.
(Kramer) And here comes the double team… damnit!
Indeed. Cunning jumps Carver from behind, burying a forearm in Carver’s back. Owens joins the beat down in the center of the ring and the Trust Fund Kids begin dropping elbows on the champ.
(JB) The Trust Fund Kids are going to steal the Foundation Heavyweight Championship!
Owens pulls Carver to his feet and irish-whips him. Their patented back body drop to a powerbomb combination leaves Carver crumpled in a heap on the mat.
(Tom) Stock Exchange! YES!
(Kramer) It’s academic now.
Mason slides into position.
(Tom) ONE!
TWO!!!!
(JB) Carver kicked out! BY GAWD HE KICKED OUT!
(Tom) I just… I just can’t believe it.
(Kramer) Believe it Kalhoun. Del Carver won’t quit. Del Carver will. Not. DIE!
Cunning tells Owens to take care of Carver. The Difference Maker begins choking Carver while Cunning goes to get the goddamn keg. He places it in the center of the ring.
(JB) They aren’t going to go for the Stock Exchange on the keg, are they?
(Tom) You better believe it. Del Carver will die!
Again, the TFK attempt the back body drop to powerbomb combination, but the moment Owens lowers his head, he gets kicked in the face by the Champ. Carver then rushes the stunned Cunning, taking him to the floor with a Diamond Line.
(Kramer) What a counter!
Carver falls back against the ropes as Cunning scrambles to his feet. The two begin brawling against the ropes. Owens grabs a steel chair and rushes in, looking to level Del Carver. He swings for the fences, but instead of bending the solid steel against Del Carver’s skull, he smashes his friend Trevor.
(Tom) NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!
(Kramer) This is where Del turns it all around.
(Tom) C’mon Keith, help your buddy out!
(JB) DIAMOND CUTTER ON OWENS!
All three men are lying on the mat, barely conscious. Cunning manages to crawl to the corner as Owens rolls under the bottom rope to the floor. Carver is the first to get back to his feet as Cunning pulls himself to a vertical base using the ropes.
(JB) Carver is going to get him! C’mon Diamond Del!!!!
(Kramer) Wait, what’s Trevor doing?
Before Carver can even attack, Cunning swings with a giant haymaker. He connects and Carver goes down like a townie when you buy her a box of wine.
(Tom) Spiked Punch!
(JB) He had a pair of goddamn brass knucks.
(Kramer) The cover.
1…
2…
Again, Del Carver kicks out.
(Tom) What will it take to beat Del Carver? When will this senior citizen finally check out?
(JB) Cunning is visibly frustrated.
(Kramer) Do you blame him, JB?
Cunning goes to the corner and grabs his bottle of Jack Daniels. Standing on Del Carver’s hair, Cunning twists the cap off of the bottle of Jack Daniels. He begins pouring the thick, dark alcohol in Carver’s mouth, nose and good eye.
(Kramer) That is just despicable.
(JB) He knows Carver used to be an alcoholic!
(Kramer) Listen to him scream, JB. That has to be burning his good eye!
(JB) Not to mention the lacerations on his forehead!
(Tom) If Trevor were really as smart as I know he is, he’d grab the trusty kerosene and set that old fart’s face on fire!
(JB) You need therapy.
(Tom) I might have deep-rooted emotional scars, Mann-wich, but Carver’s? They’re going to be out in the open for everyone to see.
(Kramer) Just wait, Kalhoun… this is only going to infuriate the Champ.
(Tom) Don’t you mean conflagrate, Krispy Kramer?
Cunning tosses the half empty bottle into the corner and pulls Carver to his knees. He lifts the Champion into a Canadian Backbreaker, but Del Carver slides through, catching Cunning with a neckbreaker on the way down.
(Tom) Someone call Kevorkian already!
Both men are slow to stir, but eventually Cunning reaches his feet. He walks to Carver and punches the Champ in the jaw. Carver doesn’t flinch. He gets to one knee. Cunning punches him again, and Del gets to his feet. A third punch still doesn’t register, and then Del Carver retaliates.
(JB) Big right hand!
(Kramer) And another!
Carver irish-whips Cunning and hits a huge lariat. A second lariat and then Del rips his shirt off of his back… the crowd goes berserk.
(Tom) Eww… old man boobs.
Carver kicks Cunning in the gut, and then lifts him high for a suplex. He slams Cunning down, head and neck first, with a huge brainbuster. He covers for two.
(JB) This Diamond is ready to shine!
(Tom) How long were you waiting to say that, Mann-Chowder?
(Kramer) Seriously, that was lame.
Carver boots Cunning in the face, and then the ribs, and then pulls him to his feet when Cunning gets near the ropes. He irish-whips Cunning to the corner, follows with a corner avalanche, and then bulldogs Cunning. Carver raises one fist to the ceiling as Owens climbs up onto the apron.
Owens enters the ring, steel chair in hand, swings and misses. Del waits for Owens to turn around and then…
(JB) Another Diamond Cutter on Keith Owens!
(Kramer) I guess he won’t be making much of a difference tonight.
Carver returns to Cunning and positions him for the Diamond Death Drop. Cunning blocks, falls to one knee, and low blows the Champ. He immediately crawls to his corner, where his bottle of Jack Daniels is waiting.
(Tom) That’s it, just like Popeye and his Spinach!
Cunning however, doesn’t try and take a sip. He charges Carver and swings the heavy glass.
(JB) Carver ducked!
A boot to the midsection, and Del Carver again positions Trevor Cunning for the Diamond Death Drop. As soon as he lifts Cunning into the air, Cunning swings the bottle, smashing it across Del Carver’s skull.
(Kramer) This is just utter chaos… utter insanity!
(JB) Cunning has more lives than a cat tonight.
Cunning falls on top of Del Carver, hooks his leg… and still only gets a two count.
(Kramer) The fans are on their feet, behind Diamond Del!
(Tom) Idiots.
Cunning, finally on his feet and in control, wipes the blood from his eyes and lifts Carver high above his head into a Canadian Backbreaker position.
(JB) SOBRIETY TEST!
(Kramer) Cunning covers…
(Tom) One…
TWO!!!!!
THR.... WHAT THE [BEEP]?
Yes Wrestling Shut Ins... Carver kicked out. Now extremely pissed off, Cunning walks over to the keg and places the keg in the center of the ring. He again lifts Carver up into a Canadian Backbreaker position.
(Kramer) Sobriety Test on the keg? Damnit!
(JB) Carver will kick out again!
1….
(JB) He won’t die!
2…
(JB) He’s Del Carver Damnit! He'll fight back!
3.
(Tom) Finished! He’s finished!
The ring is filled with bent chairs, barbed wire and broken glass. The mat is stained entirely pink.
(Tom) We have a new Foundation Heavyweight Champion and his name is Trevor Cunning!
(JB) Del Carver put up one hell of a fight.
(Kramer) What a true champion.
(Tom) Screw that!
“Sober” by Tool begins to play over the Public Address as Walt Mason hands Trevor the Foundation Heavyweight Championship. Cunning, now on his knees, looks at the title, his blood dripping down onto the gold. He raises the title over his head, never leaving his knees.
(JB) This match was a war… and in every war there are casualties. Tonight, the reign of Diamond Del Carver has come to a close.
(Tom) Long live Trevor Cunning!
(Kramer) For JB Mann and Tom Kalhoun, I’m Kramer! Thanks for staying with us, folks! Have a Happy New Year!
