---

WHO WILL BE READ THEIR LAST RITES?

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(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.

Are you ready...
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.

It’s All About the Benjamin’s Baby…

(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.

Shhh, Fireman comin'

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.

## GO, SO ****ING DETERMINED, YEAH ##

## 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...

Yo Redd Spyder (ooh-wee) is that 50 Cent/Pac joint ready?
(gun cocking) Let me know, holla

There's gonna be some stuff you gon' see
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.

Yeah nigga! Ha ha
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.

Is it, money or women to funny beginnings, tragic endings
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.

Now since you're cryin for mercy I promise
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.

---

Confrontation

---

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