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[Red smoke fills the entrance as red lights circle the center that filled with fans. The capacity of the building is 15,000 and it looks like we’re over the fire code.]

Voice Over: From the ashes of the now defunct BWA.
Shall there rise a mighty federation.
Built on tradition.
Built on integrity.
Built on giving the people what they way.

[Pyro blast and the fans erupt in the Riot Center located in Los Angeles, California.]

Voice Over: What do the people want?
They want action.
They want high flying, death defying moves.
They want the purest form of this sport.

THE PEOPLE WANT TO GET CRUNK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[The titles of the WCWA are displayed first being the WCWA Heavyweight title, then the Gold Rush title, and last the WCWA Tag Team Titles. The faces of the WCWA stars float across the screen…..]

[First we have Terminal Frost, then JJ “3J” Jarone, Soultaker, C J and Maxxine, Hunter Hill, The Einheri, Keith Dylan James, and 80 Proof…..Jim Bean and Jack Daniels. These faces float across once more and then comprise a circle and the staff of the WCWA are displayed. “Lil One” Mario Jackson and “Ms Bitch” Sylvia Sanchez our announcers, Mr. X and Cynthia Smith our journalist, and then James, Double K, Matt, and landing smack in the center the all familiar face of Mr. Vino aka Vince Webb.]

[A massive display of pyro is set off all over the Riot Center as we get set for……]

MJ: Folks it’s me, “Lil One” Mario Jackson and….

SS: Me “Ms Bitch” Sylvia Sanchez and we are here to welcome you to the first edition of ……

MJ and SS together: WCWA RIOT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

SS: Folks we have a four match card for you tonight. We would like to announce that Vince or should I say Mr. Vino has brought Issac Davenport from BWA with him to be our announcer hear at WCWA.

MJ: That’s cool, but hell it’s all about the card tonight. We have 80 Proof squaring off against each other in the first ever Crunk Rules match.

SS: That’s right and if I know Vince it’s gonna be one hell of a surprise match for these screwball fans.

MJ: Hell I’ll drink to that.

[MJ pulls out a fifth of crown royal and is about to take a drink.]

[Que the churning double bass grind of "human animal" by wolf eyes, Nate Young’s strained screams resonating across the Riot control center in Los Angeles.]

SS: Oh what the hell is THIS ABOUT?

MJ: THE SURPRISES JUST KEEP COMING ON RIOT

SS: You need a drink

MJ: That I do, that I do

[In the crowd there is a movement coming towards the ring, a body pushing through the slaps on the backs, the various other accoutrements given to a wrestling passing through the crowd.]

[As the man reaches the guard rail, he stops and starts pumping his fist to the baseline, a few of the people in the crowd begin pumping their fists as he leaps over the guard rail and lands awkwardly and barely balanced on the mats outside of the ring, he once again thrust his fist skyward as he backs towards the ring.]

[He looks around for a microphone.]

[A ring attendant rushes him one quickly, surprisingly the wild looking man seems surprised by the quick service.]

[Enter Keith Dylan James... human wrecking machine.]

KDJ: GAAAAAAAAAWDDAMN. ain't never got no goddamn micro-phone fetchers in the indies.

[Instead of entering the ring, and much to the consternation of the announcers he ambles on top of the announce table.]

SS: Get off of our table you ugly fool!

MJ: HE KNOCKED OVER MY DRINK!

KDJ: Now, I didn't come to this fine uh-liance of wrestling to sit in the back. I came to fight, and that’s what I aim to goddamn do!

[Cheers from the crowd as he stamps his wrestling boot on the announce table]

KDJ: In the back right now you got former heavyweight champions, you got young up and comers, you got independent wrestlers, you got a back full of talent, and I ain't seen but two cats in here who're roooooowdy enough to run with me.

[Murmurs.]

KDJ: I’m talkin' 'bout goddamn Jim Beam, and goddamn Jack Daniels! EIGHTY GODDAMN PROOF!

[The crowd roars for their drunken heroes. KDJ pumps his fist in the air.]

KDJ: This week they're busy beatin' the hell out of one another. but I invite them next week to an old fashioned street fight. Right here.

[He turns and points at the ring.]

KDJ: In this goddamn ring, in this GODDAMN ARENA!

[The crowd cheers loudly.]

KDJ: I know they're man enough, and I know they'll sure as hell take me up on my challenge!

[More pops as he hops off of the table and leaves through the crowd.]

MJ: A CHALLENGE HAS BEEN ISSUED TO 80 Proof!

SS: Great more mindless brawling. That should be exciting.

MJ: Damn we haven’t had the first match yet and things are already heating up. That calls for a drink.

SS: Hell if that wind blows you think that’s call for a drink. You need to sign up for AA.

MJ: I am in AA!

[Sylvia shakes her head and laughs as she points to their notes for Mario to get back on que.]

MJ: Well folks it’s time for our first match of the evening. The first ever Crunk Rules match.

SS: Yes, where Jim Bean will take on his tag team partner, Jack Daniels. This should be one hell of a brawl.

Match will be up hopefully tomorrow night.

SS: Folks what a hell of a match up as we….

"We are TTO, and that is all you need to know"

Mario Jackson: WHAT THE HELL?!?!

Sylvia Sanchez: DOES THIS MEAN?!?!

[The lights dim down as "Animal I've Become" by Three Days Grace begins to play. The fans in the whole arena spin around as a combination of cheers and jeers completely takes over. As the announcers try to compose themselves, Pamela Duke-Jackson steps out onto the entrance ramp.]

Mario: IS THAT WHO I THINK IT IS???

Sylvia: IT'S PAMELA DUKE-JACKSON!!!

[The manager of the TTO, wearing a seductive low cut dress brings a house mic to her mouth.]

Pamela: So this is West Coast Wrestling...

Mario: You bet it is sister

Sylvia: Shut up, I want to hear this

Pamela: Well, it might be West Coast, but it isn't wrestling YET

Mario: Huh?

[At that moment, out steps Terry Norris and Bobby Blood. Yes, the same Terry Norris and Bobby Blood that once feuded with Jim Beam and Jack Daniels in Louisiana.]

Sylvia: OH MY GOD, TWO OF THE BIGGEST NAMES IN THE WRESTLING BUSINESS JUST WALKED OUT ONTO THE ENTRANCE RAMP!

[Terry Norris and Bobby Blood have been world tag team champions everywhere that they've ever gone. Once they get on a roll, they are next to impossible to beat. However, the entrances aren't over with yet.]

Mario: I wonder what Mr. Vino is going to do about this?

Pamela: Now then, THIS is MUCH better. But you know, something is still missing.

Sylvia: Now what?

Pamela: It just isn't a TTO appearance without the "Mental Rapist"

Mario: The what?

[As soon as the words flow out of Pamela's mouth, out steps her husband Sean Jackson. He leans in and kisses his wife Pamela, but before the group begins to walk towards the ring, he looks over his shoulder and isn't too happy. He goes around the corner and drags someone onto the stage. Then, every male in the whole arena let's out a hot damn as a very sexy, very young looking Thai teen is brought out.]

Mario: Holy...

[Sylvia's jaw drops. What they are looking at is a very young looking Thai teen, barely looking 15, wearing a white t-shirt with T's carved out over the breasts, the only thing covering the breast area is a bra that is almost too small...and a pair of very short, very tight shorts.]

Mario: Is this illegal?

[Sylvia still can't say anything. She can't believe what she is seeing. Here is the TTO, with a very young looking girl, now walking towards the ring. It is a nightmare scenario that is now playing out, right in front of their eyes. As the TTO enters the ring, Pamela hands the mic to Sean Jackson.]

Jackson: So this is West Coast Wrestling huh?

[He looks out at the fans]

Jackson: Looks like a bunch of degenerates if you ask me

[boos]

Jackson: Yep, just as I thought. You know, I was going to bring out a surprise for you people, but if you're going to keep booing, then forget it.

Mario: If it is something worse than that young girl then forget it. We need to get security out here before they get us shut down.

[However, some of the fans, knowing who the young Thai girl is, begin to chant her name.]

Fans: VANESSA!!! VANESSA!!! VANESSA!!!

Mario: I think security needs to hurry

[But the TTO is only getting started.]

Jackson: How would one of you perverts like to spend some time with Vanessa here?

[All of a sudden, young boys and older men alike begin to flood the security railing. All were trying to get the attention of the TTO while crushing those who were simply trying out of the way. Once Sean started to move back and forth in front of those sex craved males, everything started to break down.]

Jackson: Come on, which of you are worthy of spending time with Vanessa?

Sylvia: Is he trying to pimp her out?

Mario: God I hope she isn't under age

[The male fans, now were close to fighting it out with each other. Pushing and shoving was now the order of the day as the railings were getting pushed closer and closer to the ring.]

Sylvia: Maybe we do need security out here

[Sean Jackson holds his hand up, in an effort to stop the riot.]

Jackson: RELAX, RELAX...

[He is almost laughing now]

Jackson: We have us a winner

[That stops the near riot]

Mario: About time

[Sean is looking to the back]

Jackson: Bring out the winner

Mario: Huh?

[Everyone again turns to look at the back]

Sylvia: The winner is in the back?

[The joke is on the WCWA. Two stage hands are now bringing out a skeleton, which is on a wheeled frame. Yes, it is the same skeleton that the TTO has been using for the past month in the WWA.]

Jackson: Everyone welcome "The Natural" Mike Bell

[Having seen the TTO do this stunt on television, now paper cups begin to enter the ring. They know what comes next, but was hoping it would be with one of them, and not some damn skeleton. Once the skeleton is at ringside, Sean Jackson slaps the Thai teen on the back of the head, then points to the skeleton.]

Jackson: You know what to do, bitch

[Vanessa exits the ring]

Mario: What is he talking about?

[After exiting the ring, Vanessa begins to seduce the skeleton. She begins to lick the skeleton's cheek bone, while looking disgusted at the same time. As she begins to go lower on the skeleton, Sylvia has had enough]

Sylvia: Oh hell no. We need to get someone out here, and we need to get them out here NOW!!!

[Suddenly 30 Something by Jay Z blast over the system and smoke fills the entrance ramp. Mr. Vino or better yet Vince Webb makes his way out with mic in hand. He paces back and forth for a minute and then starts giggling before he speaks.]

Mr. Vino: TTO.......what in the hell do you think you're doing? Do you think you're in the OCW? This is not that watered down version of a wrestling promotion! This is the WCWA and here....

[Fans shout out]

Fans: WE GET CRUNK!

[Vino claps and gets a stern look on his face.]

Mr. Vino: You bastards have done your last deed on trying to make Mike Bell look bad. If you want to do that crap, you go back to that mud hole federation that's a BWA rip off and do what you like there.

You know I don't play that crap and it won't go down on this show.

Looks like you three misfits should be trying to get those WWA tag straps anyway before I send 80 Proof or some other combination over to the WWA and claim them for the WCWA. That would look really bad on the alliance, for an indy promotion to be holding their coveted tag straps.

[Vino laughs and points]

Mr. Vino: Seeing that you can't get the job done then maybe that's what I need to do. Maybe I need to send a real team to the WWA to show ya'll how to get the job done.

I mean look at you. You have stooped to bring this malnutritioned whore out here to get it on with Terry Norris. Terry you know that's the real you the stage hands brought out here.

[Norris breaks in]

Norris: Whoa, whoa, whoa...hold up there suit. Just who in the hell do you think that you're talking to? First off, that IS the real Mike Bell down there getting it on with Vanessa. Secondly, just who in the hell is 80 Proof anyway?

[He thinks for a moment]

Norris: Oh yes, now I remember, they were one of the tag teams in the BWA that we beat the hell out of on a regular basis. So you know what Vince, I don't think that the Texas Outlaws nor the WWA has to worry about them taking anything, except maybe a breather.

[Sean Jackson tries to get a handle on things by calming Terry Norris down, and takes the mic.]

Jackson: Hold on Terry, I got this.

[Smiling, Sean begins to pace a little as finally Vanessa has stopped the "show" on the skeleton.]

Jackson: Vince, Vince...what's the real story here? It can't be because you give a rat’s ass about Mike Bell. I mean, c'mon, it's Mike Bell that we're talking about here. Think about it, when Mike Bell was receiving title shot after title shot in the NWA, wouldn't you have ONCE liked to have gotten a shot for yourself?

[Sean has a smug look on his face as he stops pacing.]

Jackson: I know that I did. But no, guys like me had to sit back and get the left over crumbs, while that son of a bitch got everything handed to him. Well, it isn't going to go on like that any longer. All the pain and misery that I have received over that bastard. I haven't even begun to get started on dragging him through the mud. You hear me Vince?

[Vino shakes his head and laughs.]

Mr. Vino: See Jackson. That's the difference between you and I. I don't worry about what went on in the past. Just because politics played a part in me not getting NeWA World title shots, I made the damn NeWA TV title better than the World title.

When I held the TV title, no one paid attention to the World Champ. He sat on his ass, while I defended my title every freaking week. The powers that be back then didn't want a man that had a name like Down South Hustla holding a top tier title. Look at how I brought shame to them, by taking a title that no one else had done anything with and bringing it to it's shining glory.

Then I retired from the ring and sent in my student in Malik Johnson and he took it to them by being the second longest reigning NeWA North American Champion.

So you take your sob story and flush it with those two wanna be, never could have been Mid South Syndicate members. TTO wishes they could do what the MSS did in this sport, so they attempt to mimic the MSS. You think you're dragging Mike Bell through the mud. Hell we drug people through the mud from the Front Office to the Peanut seller.

[Vino points at TTO]

Mr. Vino: You rip off artist don't get it though. We did what we did to right the wrongs.

Bell helped you three degenerates. If it wasn't for him paving the way for you, you would still be in the NeWA sinking with that ship.

I won't let you stand by and degrade a man that stood for the NeWA against Ken Jansen and his group.

So if you want to......

[Jackson cuts Vino off]

Jackson: Sob story? SOB STORY? Just who in the hell do you think you're talking to? Oh sure, I guess you HAVE had your title shots now haven't you?

[Sean Jackson is now getting agitated]

Jackson: The great Vince Webb, former Mr. Everything, just like that puppet Mike Bell. Well I can tell you this much Vince, you may want to defend him, but there isn't ONE guy in the back who would be willing to step out here and defend him. Hell, there is however one guy in the back who was present when we put Bell out to pasture...

[Sean Jackson smiles]

Jackson: That's right Vince, one of Malik's best friends was there when we destroyed Mike Bell in the BACW, and I sure as hell didn't see McClain raise as much as a finger to help him. So I tell you what Vince...

[Sean Jackson motions for the camera to zoom in tight]

Jackson: You wanted to come out here, run off at the chops in defending that piece of crap, and interrupt our air time? Well, I've got a solution for you. I say that the MSS isn't worth the paper that I use to wipe my ass, and to prove it...

[The smile gets wider]

Jackson: You go ahead and get the meanest, the roughest, and the toughest that the MSS has to offer. Or, you get one of the toughest men on the WCWA roster, and you set up a freaking match. It will be the toughest that you can find...

[Pause]

Jackson: Against one of us.

[Vince goes to say something, but Sean cuts him off]

Jackson: Wait suit, I'm not finished. I want the match to be an "I Quit" match, where the loser has got to be bleeding from being busted wide open, AND I want it under extreme hardcore rules. If the person from my teams loses, then you won't have to worry about us dragging Mike Bell's good name through the mud any longer. But, if the person from my team wins...

[The entire TTO roster begins to laugh, well, everyone except for Vanessa. The humility that she has had to live with is almost unbearable.]

Jackson: Then Bell is fair game for whatever we want to do.

[Sean then gets another idea]

Jackson: You know what Vince, since you want to defend Mike Bell so freaking bad. Why don't YOU be the one who steps into the ring to champion the cause of that piece of crap? I'll be willing to bet that you couldn't beat the crap out of whoever we choose to face you. I'll be willing to bet that you couldn't make my person say I Quit. I'll even be willing to bet that you would quit on Mike Bell.

[Pause]

Jackson: You think that Bell paved the road for us? Then set the match up, bring your retired ass into the ring and prove it....TONIGHT!!!

[Vino smiles]

Mr. Vino: Retired ass. Who said I retired, I just don't see a fed worthy of having me on it's roster.

So bring your pathetic ass on down to the ring with whomever you want to take me on. And watch them get their ass.

[Fans shout out]

FANS: HUSTLED!

[Vino leaves the arena to a roar of cheers.]

Jackson: You got a deal suit, you got a deal.

[With that, the entire TTO leaves the ring and makes their way towards the backstage area.]

[Commercial Break]

MJ: Damn Vino is already in one match tonight and now this. Now do you understand why AA is not working for me.

SS: Hell no. AA isn’t working because your drunk ass doesn’t want it to work. You need to be a man like Vino and stand up for something. Drunk Bastard.

MJ: Screw you Bitch.

[Sylvia smacks MJ in the head.]

SS: That’s Ms Bitch to you, punk! Hold on we need to cut to the back with Cynthia Smith.

[Feed to the back]

[Cynthia is in the back hallway with Vino and Markus Brown. It seems that Markus is quitting the WCWA.]

Mr. Vino: Damn Markus, you wait until the night of the show to quit.

[Markus stands there nodding his head.]

Mr. Vino: Ain’t this something. That’s cool though cause there’s a guy waiting to get into the ring. JJ “3J” Jarone. Cynthia go tell 3J he’s gonna be facing Terminal Frost tonight.

Cynthia: Sure thing Vino.

Mr. Vino: Markus, I wish you well man and if you ever make it back this way, the door is open for you.

[Vino and Markus shake hands and Markus exits the building.]

[Back to the commentators]

MJ: I was looking forward to seeing that guy in action. Hell we probably could have hung out at the bars after the card.

SS: That’s all you think about is getting drunk. You should be worried, because we don’t have any notes on Jarone if he accepts this match.

[MJ takes another drink as he prepares to speak.]

MJ: Well he better make his mind up quick cause he’s up next.

[Commercial Break]

SS: Folks this match started during the commercial break and it’s been an all out war.

[Frost just nailed Jarone with a flying forearm smash and he’s pulling him up, but Jarone with European uppercuts sends Frost backwards. Jarone bouncing off the ropes and nails a Frost with a flying double ax handle to the chest area. Jarone not letting his size hold him back is laying on the lefts and rights to the big man. Frost tossing Jarone off and rolls up with a grimace on his face. Frost charges toward Jarone who’s resting on the turnbuckles, but Jarone rolls out of the way. Frost goes face first into the turnbuckles and Jarone bounces off the near ropes with a reverse bulldog on Frost. Jarone is quick to get up and bounce off the middle ropes with a moon saught.]

MJ: Man this lil dude is messing with my head he’s so fast in that ring. Damn he’s taking it to Frost like he doesn’t know that big mofo can kill him.

SS: Yea, Jarone is not a coward as we can see. That’s probably why Vino hired him. You know he doesn’t waste his money on poor talent.

[Jarone with the quick pace races up the turnbuckles and leaps off into a cork screw plancha, but get’s caught by Terminal Frost and planted with an Oklahoma slam. The sound is deafening as Jarone’s body hits the canvas. Frost with a grin on his face follows up with a massive leg drop across the throat of Jarone. Frost pulling the 230 pound JJ around like he was a five pound bag of fruit.]

SS: Jarone at 230 has been giving this big 325 pound man a run for his money, but how long can he keep it up.

MJ: I don’t know, but he better do something quick cause Frost looks like he wants to go for the kill.

[Terminal Frost angles JJ at the turnbuckle and catapults him in that direction. Jarone’s head bounces off the turnbuckles as he got his arm up to save him from the full blow. Frost right there grabbing JJ and whipping him to the ropes. As Jarone comes off the ropes, Frost executes a tilt a whirl backbreaker. Jarone is attempting to get up as Frost drops an elbow across the back of Jarone. The big man is taunting the fans as Jarone tries to pull himself up on the ropes. Frost racing over toward Jarone on the ropes and goes for a boot to the face, but Jarone ducks and Frost gets hung up on the ropes. 3J falls into the ropes purposely and makes Frost scream as the family jewels have been crushed. Frost falls back into the ring and Jarone immediately capitalizes. Jarone runs around the ring and executes a baseball slide to the upper right thigh of Frost. Jarone goes for a figure four leg lock and he get’s it on.]

MJ: I can’t believe this. I didn’t think he would be that figure four on those tree trunk legs of Terminal Frost.

SS: Not just locked on, but he’s got Frost in a great deal of pain. That lil bastard is one tough hombre.

MJ: Oh, but Frost is trying to reverse the move.

[Frost working him over to try and reverse the leg lock and he does. Jarone quickly gets out of the move before any damage can be done to his legs. Frost slow to get up as Jarone had a chance to apply quite a bit of pressure before Frost reversed it. Jarone with a series of elbow drops to the upper right thigh of Frost in an attempt to keep him grounded. Frost trying to reach the ropes to pull himself up, but Jarone grabs a leg and drags Frost back to the center of the ring. Jarone with an ankle lock submission on Frost, but Frost nails Jarone with a blow to the head that makes him break the hold. Jarone doesn’t give up as he tries to shake off the blow. JJ is the first back to his feet and he catches a surprised Terminal Frost as he’s turning around with a standing hurricanranna out of no where. Frost goes down hard as his head was planted with that move. The lightweight Jarone quickly up to the top turnbuckle and leaps off with a frog splash, but Frost rolls out of the way. There is not a pleasant look on the face of Terminal Frost as he gets to one knee and grabs the arm of JJ Jarone. Frost lifting Jarone and nails him with a spinning somoan drop and goes for a cover…..]

1

2

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

SS: I just knew that was it. Jarone has a little spunk in him after all.

MJ: More like gas if you ask me. Frost let him up, because he stinks so damn bad.

SS: Hell you stink and I’m still here.

MJ: NO I don’t.

SS: Why do you think the fans aren’t trying to get their face on camera. Your smell is keeping them back.

[While Mario checks his underarm, Terminal Frost is laying on some heavy shoulder tackles to Jarone in the corner. Frost grabs Jarone and almost tosses him to the far side turnbuckles and the sound of his back hitting those turnbuckles brings a hush over the crowd. Jarone slumps in the corner as Terminal Frost rushes in and squashes him in the corner with a 325 pound splash. Jarone is lifeless in the corner and Frost backs up to deliver another splash to Jarone.]

MJ: Man this is gonna be good. The first Riot card and we have a murder in the ring.

SS: You’re a sick little puppy aren’t ya. I guess you want to see this happen.

MJ: Hell yea, so I can drink to a fantastic win.

[Frost charges toward the corner and just as he gets ready to splash Jarone, Jarone gets his feet up. Boots to the chin and this sends Frost stumbling backwards. Jarone with a super kick to the chin, to add insult to injury. Jarone leans on the ropes trying to clear his head after that splash. He sees Frost reeling and he runs and leaps off the middle rope with a backwards elbow to the chin that takes Frost off his feet. Jarone to the top and executes the FALLING ANGEL and goes for the cover.]

SS: Did you see that five star frog splash out of nowhere.

MJ: Hell yea, he was flying through the air with the greatest of ease.

1

2

3….NNNNNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

MJ: Not yet lil man.

[Frost got the shoulder up. Jarone can’t believe it as Frost grabs him by his neck and delivers a choke slam from hell. The monster is awake and he’s mad. Frost with a kick to the mid section and he picks Jarone up. Jarone breaks the grasp from another choke slam with a poke to the eye. He falls back to the ropes and goes for another super kick, but Frost side steps it and nails Jarone with the…..]

SS: The COLD SNAP, that’s Frost’s finisher.

MJ: Yea his version of a Steiner Screwdriver and he’s covering. This has to be it.

1

2

3

ID: Your winner of this match is……..TERMINAL FROSTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!

SS: Jarone put up one hell of a fight….what.

[Mario is heading to the ring.]

MJ: JJ don’t leave yet. Mr. Vino wants you to know that he knows he threw you into this match with no prior warning. So he sent a message out here, that not only will Terminal Frost get to pick his next opponent, but so will you. He said both of you need to contact him with your request as soon as possible.

[Mario leaves the ring as Jarone shakes his head and makes his way up the aisle. Frost is still in the ring as….]

Sanchez: That was an interesting match...

[The lights begin to flicker as Wagner’s "Ride of the Valkryies" begins to play.]

Jackson: What the hell?

[Frost bails out of the ring as Brown begins to get to his feet.]

Sanchez: I like the mood lighting.

[A small weasel of a man exits from behind the curtain. He is dressed in a black suit with matching melon and wire rimmed glasses. He sets his eyes on Terminal as he brings the microphone to his lips.]

The man: Mr. Frost I am Bathasar Guldsen. I am the future King and supreme ruler of the mystical land of Thule. You are a prime example of the genetic misfortune that this countries melting pot mentality has born.

[Bathasar smiles as Markus eyes the little man up.]

Bathasar: People here and in many places around the world have embraced the weak, the poor, the wretched few that yearn to be free. People like Stephen Hawkins, Kenneth Lay, Martha Stewart, Kevin Federline, Paris Hilton and all other parasitic forms of life ruin your people. Yet they are celebrated like gods.

[Bathasar walks around the ring to the opposite side, Terminal Frost attention follows.]

Bathasar: The world needs to be made ready for the coming of Thule and on that path I shall destroy all the unworthy.

Sanchez: Who's that he's cute!

Jackson: What?

[A large Nordic man walks slowly from the back towards the ring. Frost's attention focused on Bathasar. The Nordic man wears black tights woolly boots, leather arm guards, steel cap and a large shield with an Iron Cross emblazoned on it.]

Jackson: That's The Einheri! I've heard he was signed to WCWA.

Bathasar: You must think it's odd that someone my size claims to pack the power to destroy your but you are wrong. I am far more powerful than any mortal has the right to be.

[The Einheri enters the ring and walks up to a few feet behind Frost who is focused on Bathasar.]

Sanchez: This is going to be good.

Bathasar: To that aim I have the brought the power of Odin's Army to help raise Thule from its watery grave and you shall be the first sacrifice.

[Disgusted Terminal Frost turns around and walks right into the steel shield being swung by The Einheri. The crowd erupts into boos.]

Sanchez: That's the way to do it!

[Bathasar laughs as he climbs into the ring.]

Jackson: This is wrong!

Bathasar: You are nothing but trash at my feet.

[Bathasar spits on the fallen Frost.]

Bathasar: Destroy him my monster!

[The Einheri pulls Frost up and into a cut throat DVD]

Jackson: That's his finisher! The Mjölnir!

Bathasar: Do not dare to pick The Einheri as your opponent next week for it will be your doom.

[Commercial Break]

MJ: All this scary stuff going on tonight, gonna make me stop drinking.

SS: Hell they need to keep it up then. Hey it’s time to Vino to take on one of the TTO members chosing.

This should be a damn good match.

Voice over: "We are TTO, and that is all you need to know"

Mario Jackson: Well, soon enough we will see who will be representing the TTO.

Sylvia Sanchez: I don't care who it is, someone from the TTO is going to get wiped out tonight.

[The lights dim down and "Animal I've Become" by Three Days Grace begins to play over the loudspeakers.]

ID: Coming to the ring, from Longview Texas

[After a few moments, "The Mental Rapist" Sean Jackson emerges from the back, wearing probably the most obnoxious shirt ever worn, and an obvious poke at the wrestling fans, reading "Never underestimate the power of stupid people in large groups" written on the front of it and the now famous emblem of a chair with the words "Brilcream" written over the top of it.]

ID: weighing in at 220 pounds...

Mario Jackson: Well, it appears that the victim is going to be Sean Jackson himself.

Sylvia Sanchez: I hope that Vince destroys his little no talent ass. What he made Vanessa do out there was simply disgusting, and totally uncalled for.

[Before he heads to the ring, his wife and manager of the Texas Outlaws, Pamela Duke-Jackson makes her way to his side. She is wearing blue jeans and a white shirt with the three members of the TTO on the front. As they make their way towards the ring, Sean has a look of total contempt on his face.]

ID: 1/3 of the TTO, Sean Jackson.

[Both Sean Jackson and Pamela Duke-Jackson enter the ring. Pamela takes out her own mic and a smile crosses her face.]

Pamela: Ladies and gentlemen, let me introduce to you the smartest man on the planet. The man who is going to make Vince Webb feel like he is two inches tall...

Mario Jackson: What is he talking about?

Sylvia Sanchez: Just shut up already, and prepare to get your ass kicked. God, they talk too damn much.

Pamela: The Best Damn Wrestler, Period...

[Sean just stands there, with a devilish grin on his face.]

Pamela: The Cancer Killer...

Sylvia Sanchez: Someone kill that bitch’s mic.

Pamela: Sean "I'm way smarter than Vince Webb" Jackson

[Boos fill the arena as Pamela gives Sean Jackson a kiss on the lips, she then hands him the mic.]

Jackson: Now, I know you people were thinking that it was going to be me, coming out here and laying waste to Vince Webb, but I have bigger fish to fry.

Sylvia Sanchez: Sounds about right

Mario Jackson: What a coward

Jackson: So instead, it is going to be another member of the TTO who comes out and shows the world who the real Vince Webb is. So bring him on out.

[A light humming sound is heard as the lights dim down and a very chilling breeze totally engulfs the arena.]

Mario Jackson: They can't be serious

Sylvia Sanchez: Is this a joke?

[Everyone is confused, those who have lived on the west coast for years, knows this entrance, and it belongs to Mike Bell.]

[Almost immediately fog begins to roll in and the entire entrance ramp is completely engulfed. It is so thick that you can cut through it with a knife]

[Boos begin to fill the arena. From 1998 to 2000, Mike Bell wrestled religiously on the west coast, and the true fans aren't taking this very well.]

Jackson: Just settle down people, don't boo your fallen hero just yet.

Sanchez: They're booing you dumbass

[Not as loud as the humming sound but you can hear what sounds to be thunder off in a distance and lightning is seen through the fog at the roof of the arena]

Mario Jackson: I can't believe that they are going to come out with that damn skeleton again.

Sylvia Sanchez: I hope that Vince takes that skeleton, and shoves it right up Sean Jackson's ass.

[You then hear a voice]

Voice over: Passion is what drives me now....

[The thunder gets a little louder and just when you least expect it......]

[BONG]

[BONG]

{BONG]

[It is the eerie ringing of a bell that is being heard.]

[BONG]

[BONG]

[Then you hear the voice again]

Voice: For whom the bell tolls

[BOOM]

[BOOM]

[ZIP]

[ZIP]

[Loud explosions and pyro begin shooting all through the arena to the point that enough static electricity is generated to make the hair on the back of your neck stand up]

[Then "Sirius" by the Alan Parson's Project begins to play and you can see someone coming through the fog. The anticipation builds as through the fog comes two stage hands pushing a hospital bed towards the ring. Once they are cleared of the fog, it is apparent that there is a real person strapped down to that bed.]

Mario Jackson: Oh no, don't tell me

Jackson: Vince Webb, meet your opponent

Sylvia Sanchez: He isn't serious

Jackson: Brought in here, just for you. I give you "The Natural" Mike Bell.

[The camera gets a close-up view, and sure enough it is Mike Bell. As the bed is pushed to ringside, Terry Norris and Bobby Blood help to push the bed into the ring as boos continue to rock the house.]

Mario Jackson: Mike Bell is in a coma, there is NO WAY that this match can take place.

Sylvia Sanchez: If Vince wrestles him, it will KILL Mike Bell

Jackson: And just remember Vince, it is an "I Quit Match", so it can't end until one of you says I quit. On top of that, just remember that in order for you to win, you have to bust Mike wide open, with blood flowing all over the place...

Mario Jackson: Is Sean Jackson crazy?

Jackson: Oh, and by the way Vince. If I recall correctly, we agreed on extreme hardcore rules.

Sylvia Sanchez: Oh my God

Mario Jackson: What have we done?

Sylvia Sanchez: Either Vince loses to a man in a coma, or he kills him? What in the hell is Vince Webb going to do?

Sean Jackson: Have at it Webb, have at it.

[With that, Sean and Pamela exit the ring as they anticipate the total destruction of Mike Bell.]

ID: Hailing from Shreveport, Louisiana and standing at 6’3” and weighing in at 254 pounds. He’s the owner of the WCWA, but we all know and love him as Down South Hustla……Vince Webbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbb……

[30 Something by Jay Z begins to play as a green haze fills the entrance ramp. On the screen is a shadowy figure and suddenly as the music gets louder, three ladies make their way out. They are dressed in green and gold with green and gold boots. They begin dancing at the entrance as green and gold strobe lights circle the stage area.]

MJ: The boss is clowning with dem fine ass hoes.

SS: He should have had me up there.

MJ: Damn, I would have bought a ticket to see that myself.

[Suddenly the smoke gets denser and through the curtain steps “DSH” Vince Webb dressed in all black with his black trench coat and black brim on. The ladies begin to dance around Vince as he is displaying that large grin. He slaps the ladies on the ass and directs them to lead the way down to the ring. Vince is dancing and shaking hands as he makes his way down the aisle. The fun stops when he sees Mike Bell in a coma as his opponent.]

SS: What is the boss gonna do?

[Vince whispers to the ladies and they look at him in a strange way. They make their way to Bell and they place a bat in Bell’s hands. Vince smiles as he slides into the ring. He nods and the ladies take Bell’s hand and makes him swing the bat hitting Vince in the side. Vince calls for a mic.]

Vino aka Vince Webb: I QUIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ding…….Ding…..Ding….

ID: The winner of this I quit match is “The Natural” Mike Bellllllllllllllllllllllll.

SS: What a great boss we have.

MJ: I would have kicked Bell’s ass.

SS: Sure, you would have passed out from alcohol poisoning before you could get in the ring.

[Vince and the ladies on the outside of the ring shaking hands with the fans as TTO comes flying back into the ring with an attack on Bell. Vince grabs the bat from the girls and lays waist to Sean Jackson, with the rest of TTO escapes. Sean is caught and Webb nails him with a Hustla Hangover for good measure.]

MJ: TTO aren’t gonna leave Mike Bell alone until they have killed the man. That might not be a bad idea.

SS: Maybe I should hire them to put you out of your misery.

[Commercial Break]

Hill: No Michelle, I don't want you out there. I need to be 100% focused. I know how you can get especially in a three way match. We both know that both are gunning to take me out early and I want you as far away as possible from that.

Michelle: Hunter, I will be fine. You can be focused with me out there. I just want to be able to watch you out there.

Hill: You sure you will be fine and you will just watch?

Michelle: Yes, I promise.

Hill: Ok fine...

(Michelle smiles)

Michelle: Here’s my bottle, there's a chair, and a TV and I will see you after the match.

(Hunter walks out of the dressing room and closes the door. Michelle pissed off throws the bottle at the door as the scene fades to the ring)

Jackson: and here we go with our Triple Threat match. This is going to bring down the house!

Sanchez: Wow, are you always this quick?

Jackson: Shut up will you Sanchez?

Sanchez: Oh I know you didn’t! No one tell me shut up do you hear me?

Jackson: Lets just get on to the match and the ring announcer.

ID: Ladies and gentlemen, the following Triple Threat contest is scheduled for one fall and is for the number one seed for the WCWA Heavyweight Title Tournament. Introducing first…. From Houston Texas, weighing in at 250 pounds, this is Hunter Hill!

[Hunter comes to the ring as the fans begin to cheer.]

Jackson: If I wasn’t a happily married heterosexual man, I’d dig Hill!

Sanchez: ……..

Jackson: What? Look at the physical condition that man is in. He’s the impiety of physical perfection. Wow!

Jackson:………

ID: And his opponent hailing from Jacksonville, Florida, being accompanied to the ring by “The Queen of Extreme” Maxxine, weighing in at 185 pounds, this is CJ!

[The lights get brighter as a guitar chord starts to plays on the P.A; the crowd recognizes the simple sound and starts to cheer frantically. "Making History (custom remix)"by Thunderbirds Are Now! blast throughout the arena. You can clearly distinguish the cheers between the males and females due to the pitch. The curtains start to rustle a bit as CJ and Maxxine stand just on the other side of the curtain getting ready for their appearance. The crowd stands to their feet looking over to the direction of the entrance ramp as they await the arrival of the lovely Maxxine and the fan favorite CJ. As soon as the remixed drumroll ends from the song and the lyrics begins Maxxine makes her way out of the curtains first and into view of the roaring fans around the arena. CJ follows shortly after wearing hooded sweater over his head and looking down at the ground with a water bottle in hand. He pumps in the air with one leg keeping one leg lifted slightly for a few moments before flinging his head back causing the hood from his hooded sweater to fling back as well. The crowd cheers violently as CJ takes a sip from his half empty water bottle and flings it in front of him into the crowd. Maxxine is halfway towards to the ring strutting her stuff and flirting with the fans in the front row seats. Maxxine looks into the nearest camera and growls out the words.]

Maxxine: It is not the size of the fighter but the size of the fight he will bring!

[She says these words while pointing back towards CJ as he makes his way to the ring in no obvious rush. CJ looks forwards at the ring clasping his hands together and rotating his wrist in a clockwise motion to loosen up for his strikes and grapples. Around this time the familiar chorus line plays throughout the arena and the fans start to sing along with the song until it goes back to its main lyrics. While they are singing along CJ runs around the ring once before sliding in the ring, quickly getting up and returning to that quick clockwise clasp with the hands but only this time while hopping in the air and tilting his head from left to right. Maxxine waits on the outside pumping the crowd up as the crowd starts to chant "CJ!" repeatedly. The music dies down as the crowd continues to chant.]

Jackson: Hopefully these men give the fans something to cheer about. Now we are just awaiting the third and final wrestler to enter the match.

[The tron lights up in the arena with Mr. Vino flashing on of his famous smiles.]

Sanchez: What the hell is going on now?

Mr. Vino: I’m sorry to announce that this triple threat match will not be taking place tonight.

[The fans let out their boos, showing their disappointment]

Mr. Vino: It will instead become a one on one match between Hunter Hill vs CJ. Mark Cook has been put on fine $50,000 dollars for no showing tonight Riot. Gentlemen, if you want a chance the Heavyweight Championship, then you need to show me how each of you get CRUNK!

Jackson: WOW! $50,000 is a lot of money; I hope Brown has that kind of cash!

Sanchez: Sounds like Mr. Vino means business!

DING! DING! DING!

Jackson: And the bell has rung!

Sanchez: Whatever it is, I just want to be entertained.

[Both men kept to the corner, making sure neither was the recipient of a sneak attack. They both make their way to the center of the ring and get nose to nose. Neither man is saying a word, their eyes are doing all the talking.]

Jackson: How intense is that?

[We get a close up shot of CJ muttering the words “Come on”. With that, Hill rears back and unleashes a vicious slap. The sound of Hill’s hand being smashed against the chest of CJ is loud and brutal, even with the familiar vest of CJ. The champ hunches over and gets back to a standing position. It’s now his turn as he unloads with a slap. Again, it’s loud and thunderous; it takes Hill down to one knee. He slowly rises. CJ makes a slowly waving motion at Hill. The challenger obliges by bouncing off the ropes, spinning and throwing all his body weight behind the slap. CJ is driving down to both knees. Clutching his arms together, CJ rises to his feet. He then bounces off the ropes. Doing the same thing, he spins and fires off a slap. Hill is driven back, falling on his behind. He squints and rises to his feet.]

Jackson: The chest of Hill is red like a beat as is CJs’ under that vest of his no doubt.

Sanchez: Neither man is giving an inch in this stand off.

[CJ urges Hill to do it again. Hill takes a few steps towards the ropes but stops dead in his tracks and drop kicks an unsuspecting CJ.]

Sanchez: Ahhh, the cunning of Hunter Hill.

[Hill grabs the arm of CJ as he stands up. He does a very slow turn into an arm ringer. He brings the arm down hard. As he goes for another one, CJ counters with a hard strike to the face. The strikes continue to reign down on a diagonal path into the head of Hill.]

Jackson: CJ is unloading with those Muay Thai head strikes to Hill.

[CJ whips Hill across into the ropes. Once Hill comes back, he catches him on the fly for Gutwrench suplex but Hill forces his momentum on to CJ, taking him down by the shoulder.]

Jackson: Heads up move by Hunter to counter the suplex at the last minute.

[Hill strings out the right arm of CJ and feverishly begins to drop knees into the shoulder. After the final knee, Hill tosses his right leg over the shoulder and clinches the entire arm between his legs.]

Jackson: Hill has CJ in a modified arm bar with his weight going down on the shoulder.

Sanchez: This is vintage Hill from what I have been told, Pecker-face. Pick out the most important body part then sink your teeth into it like a pit-bull.

[Hill continues with the pressure. The referee is in CJ s’ face but he won’t have any of it. CJ begins to stir, rising to his knee even as Hill is lying on the mat with the arm bar locked in.]

Jackson: Look at this power by CJ! For a smaller man is he bringing everything he has to Hunter Hill tonight!

Sanchez: WOW!

[The crowd is even impressed as CJ has gotten into a standing position and has hoisted Hill up in the air with the helps of the ropes and then….]

Jackson: POWERBOMB!!!

[CJ drives Hill down into the mat with a power bomb, finally break the hold.]

Jackson: CJ is on a roll!

Sanchez: As much as I hate CJ, even I must admit that was impressive.

Jackson: Incredibly so.

[CJ is seen trying to shake off his arm. He grabs Hill and hits him with a snap suplex. He then lifts the back of Hill up and executes a running neck snap on him.]

Jackson: CJ is showing he can go with the bigger men such as Hill.

[CJ steps over the back of Hill, lifts him up and sends him back down with a cobra clutch leg sweep. He quickly begins raining down Muay Thai knee drops to the side of Hill’s head. He then grabs the left arm of Hill and locks in a Kimura arm lock.]

Jackson: Kimura arm lock by CJ!!!

Sanchez: That looks very painful, how much pain can the wrist of Hill endure?!?!

[Hill looks like he is withering in pain. He slowly begins to force his way, by way of his right arm and leg, towards the ropes. He finally gets close enough to latch his leg on the rope, forcing a break.]

Jackson: If Hill wouldn’t have that superior upper body strength, he wouldn’t have been able to reach the ropes…

Sanchez: Which would’ve meant a snapped wrist.

[CJ drags Hill to the center of the ring before locking up a short art scissors with the neck stretch.] Jackson: Duck and Cover submission by CJ.

Sanchez: You know what CJ is doing here, right?

Jackson: Trying to submit Hill?

Sanchez: Besides that, smart ass. He’s showing the best power men in the WCWA that he is right up there along side him.

[While Hill is refusing to submit, his “no” is a lot less forceful as earlier.]

Jackson: CJ is wearing down Hill piece by piece.

[Hill, after a good 30 seconds, begins to twist and turn his legs. With a hop and a burst of strength, he charges forward sending CJ right under the bottom rope. Hill is able to grab on to the apron and prevent himself from also flying to the floor.]

Sanchez: Hill put everything he had into that move.

Jackson: It worked but at what cost?

[Hill is struggling to get to his feet after doing that move. It allows CJ to get to his feet. Hill is quick to notice it and charges at Hill. He goes for a baseball slide but notices CJ ducking out of the way. Hill leaps on to the apron and quickly off the second rope….]

Jackson: CLOTHESLINE!!!!!

[The crowd pops as Hill hits the picture perfect clothesline. Both men are on the ground but Hill is to his feet first. He Irish Whips’ CJ into the guardrail then charges in, squashing CJs’ head between his boot and the rail.]

Jackson: Hill looks like he is getting fired up.

Sanchez: Which is bad news for CJ.

[Hill tosses CJ in the ring. He positions him a few feet away waiting for CJ to come back here, but CJ leaps to the top rope….]

Jackson: ASHES TO ASHES!!!

Sanchez: SHOOTING STAR PRESS!!!

Jackson: We could have a winner!

1...

2...

3...

Jackson: NOOOOOOOOOOO!

Sanchez: Hill just kicks out, we almost had a winner.

[Hill gets CJ up and sends him into the ropes. He comes back and is planted into the mat with a face crusher.]

Jackson: Things are not looking too good for CJ.

[Hill positions him then heads to the top rope.]

Jackson: Hill smells blood.

Sanchez: He’s going for the jugular.

[Hill leaps off the top….]

Jackson: Top rope clothesline!!!!!

Sanchez: NO! NO! CJ MOVES!!!

Jackson: Hill hits the mat with his top rope clothesline.

Sanchez: He went to the well one too many times with the high risk.

[Both men are down and slow to get up. They stand at roughly the same time. Hill takes a wild shot with a lariat but CJ ducks…..]

Sanchez: Kick to the gut!

Jackson: Fisherman’s Buster!!!!

[CJs’ is up and looks pumped. He whips Hill into the turnbuckle. He charges in and hits Hill with a flying knee strike to the head. He quickly whips Hill into the ropes and catches him in a tilt-a-whirl backbreaker.]

Jackson: CJ is up and waiting for Hill.

Sanchez: He looks like he is sizing him up for something, Jackson.

Jackson: And that it is!

Sanchez: THUNDERKICK ‘88!!!

Jackson: That’s usually the set up for the Mushaboom!

[The crowd, while not a fan of either man, is applauding the great effort both are delivering. CJ locks Hill in…..]

Jackson: HERE IT COMES!!!!

Sanchez: NO! HILL SLIPS OUT!

Jackson: ROLL UP!!!

1..

2..

KICK OUT!

[Both men get up. CJ’s charges but Hill ducks. He leaps up across the shoulders of CJ and rolls him up for the pin.]

1...

2...

3...

Jackson: NO!!!

Sanchez: CJ just kicks out again!

[Both are up. CJ goes for a clothesline but Hill ducks again. This time he flips upside down on the back of CJ and rolls him up.]

1...

2...

3...

Jackson: YES…….

Sanchez… NO! CJ KICKS OUT AGAIN!!!!

[A frustrated Hill backs off the ropes and charges at CJ with a yakuza kick but CJ catches him in a t-bone position and suplex’s him.]

Jackson: Every time you think either of these men have an advantage, the other one fires back out of nowhere.

Sanchez: This is the WCWA, what more could you expect?

[CJ sends Hill into the ropes and hits him with a flapjack throat drop. He quickly moves into a Hangman’s stretch. Once releasing it, he hits a powerdrive elbow to the throat.]

Jackson: CJ with the advantage!

Sanchez: Not a better way to cut off a man’s oxygen supply then that, Pecker-wood.

[CJ makes the cover.]

1...

2...

3...

Jackson: NO! HILL JUST GETS THE SHOULDER UP!!!

[CJ gets into the referee’s face, not agreeing with the count.] Sanchez: He makes a good point, this referee was way too slow and unprofessional with that count.

Jackson: No he wasn’t….

Sanchez: You’re right but it’s my job to instigate and what not.

[CJ returns his attention to Hill. He grabs him and hoists him up in the air with a delayed vertical suplex.]

Jackson: Look at the power and strength by CJ!

Sanchez: But Hill looks like he is trying to sway his body weight…

[Hill is swaying his hips back and forth, trying to tip CJ over. Eventually, CJ is forced to release the challenger. As Hill is dropping down, he grabs the head of CJ and….]

Jackson: TWIST OF FATE!!!!

Sanchez: How the hell did he do that dropping from 6 plus feet in the air?!?!

Jackson: Wow is all I can say!

[The crowd is cheering as both men lay on the mat, neither moving.]

Jackson: The man who gets up first will have a decided advantage.

[They both begin to stir at the same time. They both rise to their feet at equally the same time. CJ and Hill, both on the verge of exhaustion, trade blows in the center of the ring. CJ, feeling the need to end the match, ducks a punch and slips to Hill’s right side. He hooks his arm around Hill’s waist and hooks one of his legs in between both of Hill’s from behind, and quickly rolls forward in a gutwrench small package.]

Jackson: THIS IS IT!

1...

2...

3...

Jackson: YES!!!!!!!

Sanchez: NO! NO! NO! HILL KICKS OUT!!!

Jackson: CJ was within inches of being the number one contender.

[CJ grabs Hill by the arms from behind and slowly begins to turn him around, looking for a backslide when….]

Jackson: Damn it! Mule kick by Hill out of the vision of the referee!

Sanchez: Once again, the cunning of Hunter Hill.

Jackson: How in the world is that cunning?

[Hill sizes CJ up….]

Jackson: Hunter off the ropes and hits a massive dropkick which sends CJ onto his back. This has been an awesome match with both men beating the hell out of each other.

[Hill spies CJ where he wants him and takes off running into the ropes and with a leap he flings himself into the air and lands a picture perfect leg drop on the fallen CJ. Hill quickly right back on the attack as he drops a knee across the throat of his opponent, rendering him motionless. The crowd starts to boo the former MSS member as he slowly brings CJ to his feet. He rips off the vest and shirt of CJ. He connects hard with three knife-edge chops, and immediately there after, CJ’s chest starts to turn bright red.]

Sanchez: Hill may have broken a blood vessel in his chest; I have never seen someone’s chest get so red so quick!

[Hill picks up CJ and looks to be going for a scoop slam, but instead walks over to the corner turnbuckle and hooks CJ upside down. He quickly delivers a few rapid shots to the mid section for good measure before he runs to the other side of the ring.]

Sanchez: What’s he setting up for? Wait…I’ve seen this!

Jackson: I know what he’s setting up for, I’ve seen him do this before, and this is not going to be pretty!

[As soon as he reaches the other side, Hill takes off at full speed and delivers a running knee to the dangling face of CJ . Hill slowly makes his way up and looks down at CJ who is screaming out in pain. Hill grabs the ropes and just starts to sends massive kicks to the mid-section and chest of CJ . The crowd starts to count the number of kicks to the chest of CJ.]

1…

2…

3…

4…

Jackson: Hill has to be careful!

Sanchez: Damn, Hill is walking a razor’s edge tonight, I don’t know if it’s a wise move on his part with what’s on the line tonight!

[Hill slowly backs a way from CJ and turns his back, leaving him a chance to untangle himself, but at the last second he turns back around and nails a low spin kick to CJ’s head. CJ somehow untangles his foot from the top turn buckle and falls to the mat, barley able to move. Hill smiles and marvels at his work and turns to taunt the fans as CJ uses all the strength he has left to make it to his feet.]

Jackson: I can hardly believe it! How is Hunter still standing?

Sanchez: Listen to the WCWA fans here as they chant CJ’s name! Hill doesn’t see him behind him!

[Annoyed with the fans chanting CJ’s name, Hill full out bitch smacks CJ, catching him off guard and hooks him up with his finishing move.]

Sanchez: Here it is, the Prelude!

Jackson: IT’S OVER! WE WILL HAVE A WINNER!

[Hill drives CJ’s face in to the mat and covers him as the ref counts.]

1...

2...

3...

DING! DING! DIN….

Jackson: WE HAVE A WINNER!

[We get a glimpse of the referee yelling at the time keeper.]

Referee: NO! NO! NO! HAND WAS UP! HAND WAS UP!

Sanchez: WHAAAAAAAAAAT?!?!

[We cut to a quick instant replay that shows CJ did indeed get his arm up, with less then an inch of space between the referee’s hand and the mat.]

Jackson: How in the world did CJ just kick out of the Prelude?!?!

Sanchez: I have no clue.

Jackson: I can’t believe this!

Sanchez: Neither can Hill, look at how irate he is!

[Irate is an understatement, Hill is going ballistic on the poor referee. To his credit, the referee is holding his own against Hill. Finally, Hill seems to relent. He points towards CJ for the referee to go check on him. With the referee bent over talking to CJ, Hill bounces off the ropes and….]

Jackson: DAMN HIM! DAMN, HUNTER HILL!!!

Sanchez: Hill collides with the referee. Where did that ref come from?

Jackson: What?!?! Hill purposely crashed into the referee because he disagreed with the referee not calling for the bell.

[The crowd is booing like crazy as Hill rolls the fallen ref to the side. He grabs CJ but is quickly rolled up. The crowd counts.]

1...

2...

3...NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Jackson: This match should be over! CJ should be walking home on his way to the title.

Sanchez: CJ is going to have a nice long chat with that referee.

Jackson: Ugh….

[Both men get to their feet. Hill looks like he wants to charge in but CJ quickly gets into a clinched position. He maneuvers himself….]

Jackson: Mushaboom?!?!

Sanchez: No! Hill with an elbow, another elbow, he loosens the clinch.

Jackson: BACK BODY DROP BY HILL!

[Hill quickly moves and picks up CJ, sets him up and lifts him into the air, and brings him crashing down.]

Jackson: The Killa! The Killa! Hill in for the pin!

1…

2…

3!

DING! DING! DING!

ID: Here is your winner… AND THE NUMBER ONE SEED….. HUNTER HILL!

[Following the his win in the triple threat match to name the number one seed in the world title tournament Hill is in the ring with his hand being raised by the referee. He doesn't notice that someone has come into the ring and stand behind him waiting. The man is wearing street clothes, has long dark hair, and stands 6'9".]

[Hill turns around only to be kicked in the stomach and then power bombed by the large man. The man stares at him for a little while before pulling out a microphone, still looking down at Hill while speaking.]

Large Man: So you are the number one seed? Well you are going to be disappointed, because I going to be the first WCWA World Heavyweight champion. I am the man who is going to win the tournament, I am!

[He flips his head up now, his eyes are dark and intense.]

Large Man: Soultaker.

[The Unforgiven By Metallica plays Soultaker drops the microphone and walks off to a stunned silence from the crowd.]

SS: We have had all kinds of surprises out here tonight. The night’s not over yet. What else could be in store for us.

MJ: I don’t know, but I’m loving this job already.

SS: Well it’s time for the main event. Our exhibition match.

MJ: Yea, but first a commercial break.

[Commercial Break]

[The lights in the arena shut down, leaving the crowd in the dark, as bright flashes start to burst through out, acting as it were streaks of lighting. Soon, the sound of waves crashing along with the sound of thunder and howling winds fill the arena. They are soon joined by a shrill sound of sirens echoing though out the building.]

#SHUT UP WHEN I’M TALKING TO YOU…SHUT UP….SHUT UP…SHUT UP…SHUT UP WHEN I’M TALKING TO YOU!

[A hush falls over the crowd leaving the arena in total darkness. With out warning, multi-colored lights start exploding through out the arena, and with in a matter of seconds, a massive explosion rips through out the entranceway leaving most of the fans breathless. A wall of fire reaches out to touch the top of the arena as the flames radiate their heat. As the smoke and fire start to clear out, the fans can see that McClain’s tron video has come to life as his theme, a remix of One Step Closer performed by Linkin Park, starts to rip though out the PA system. On his tron, a golden outline of a flame comes into sight as McClain silver cross slams into the flame as it sounds like steel hitting steel, and is quick to fade to blackness as his name is quick to fade in. Soon it starts to flash across the tron into various different fonts and colors Behind his name, there are clips of The Submission Specialist winning past titles, making opponents tap with his crippling Breaking Point, climbing to the top rope and hitting the high flying Storm Surge, and his newest submission move, The Perfect Storm, as well as his Natural Disaster. We catch only a glimpse of him pulling off some of the most unbelievable moves ever seen.]

#EVERYTHING YOU SAY TO ME, BRINGS ME ONE STEP CLOSER TO THE EDGE AND I’M ABOUT TO BREAK…

#I NEED A LITTLE ROOM TO BREAK, BECAUSE I’M ONE STEP CLOSER TO THE EDGE AND I’M ABOUT TO BREAK

#I FIND THE ANSWERS AREN’T SO CLEAR, I WISH I COULD FIND A WAY TO DISSAPPEAR…ALL THESE THOUGHTS THEY MAKE NO SENSE, I FOUND THIS IN INGRONCE, NOTHING SEEMS TO GO AWAY…OVER AND OVER AGAIN… JUST LIKE BEFORE!

[McClain soon steps into the entranceway looking around the arena as a grin plays across his lips. As soon as the fans see him, they start to boo very loudly! He raises both arms high into the air as the crowd roars with disapproval. As he makes the slow walk to the ring, the multi-colored lights start to glisten off his skin. He's dressed in a pair of white tights. On his left leg of his tights in a red lettering, and outlined in gold is “CRIPPLER”, and on his opposite leg, in the same red material and outlined in gold is a modified cross surrounded in flames. His white paten leather boots bare the same cross as his tights in a red paten leather color. His wrist and forearms are taped up with the similar colored tape. His hair is cut short in the back with the front longer, in a deep royal blue, almost black in color. His metallic silver-framed Oakley’s hide his cold ice blue eyes from the world, as the shimmering fire iridium reflective lens shine with the exploding lights as they blink off and on suddenly as he makes his way closer to the ring.]

#EVERYTHING YOU SAY TO ME, BRINGS ME ONE STEP CLOSER TO THE EDGE AND I’M ABOUT TO BREAK…

#I NEED A LITTLE ROOM TO BREAK, BECAUSE I’M ONE STEP CLOSER TO THE EDGE AND I’M ABOUT TO BREAK…

#EVERYTHING YOU SAY TO ME, BRINGS ME ONE STEP CLOSER TO THE EDGE AND I’M ABOUT TO…BREAK!

#SHUT UP WHEN I’M TALKING TO YOU…SHUT UP….SHUT UP…SHUT UP…SHUT UP….I’M ABOUT TO BREAK!

#EVERYTHING YOU SAY TO ME, BRINGS ME ONE STEP CLOSER TO THE EDGE AND I’M ABOUT TO BREAK…

#I NEED A LITTLE ROOM TO BREAK, BECAUSE I’M ONE STEP CLOSER TO THE EDGE AND I’M ABOUT TO BREAK…

#I NEED A LITTLE ROOM TO BREAK, BECAUSE I’M ONE STEP CLOSER TO THE EDGE AND I’M ABOUT TO BREAK

[As soon as he enters the ring, two spotlights bath him in a pale blue color, circle around the arena and then converge into the center of the ring where the Matt McClain stands frozen. His chiseled body, which is bathed in the pale blue light, is ridged. He soon breaks the still stance by jerking up his arms high into the air. The boo’s of the fans give him a sudden massive rush. With his arms out stretched high into the air, flash bulbs all over the arena pop with a bright white light. It's almost an indescribable feeling coped with the booing of the fans as the lights in the arena start to slowly come back on.]

#I NEED A LITTLE ROOM TO BREAK, BECAUSE I’M ONE STEP CLOSER TO THE EDGE AND I’M ABOUT TO BREAK…

#I NEED A LITTLE ROOM TO BREAK, BECAUSE I’M ONE STEP CLOSER TO THE EDGE AND I’M ABOUT TO…BREAK!

SS: Matt McClain is a vision of focus Mario, his beautiful ice blue eyes are steady and focused, looking directly at Hustla. He wants this match bad.

MJ: That is an understatement but we’re about to get on the way here.

[DSH comes racing out to the ring. No entrance music, no nothing, but a full out sprint to the ring.]

*Ding*

MJ: There’s the bell and these two legends have locked up.

[Collar and elbow tie-up ensues between the two men, neither of them giving an inch as they struggle for control finally McClain slides out grabbing hold of Hustla’s right arm he spins under twisting the arm.]

MJ: McClain with an old school arm wringer on The Down South Hustla.

SS: Not a good start for The Hustla but the match is still young.

[As Hustla reaches for the head of Matt we see the Crippler put more force into the hold sending the pain shooting through the arm of DSH and dropping him to a knee. Not for long as DSH rises from the mat snapping himself around and under McClain hooking in an arm wringer of his own, McClain with the quick counter spins out and into a hammerlock.]

MJ: Hustla looking for a counter but he’s coming up empty.

[DSH reaches between his legs looking for the leg and a trip but he finds nothing, he looks for the elbow but McClain being the technician that he is keeps his head out of reach, finally McClain breaks the hold on his own with authority.]

MJ: Hammerlock slam and that’s gonna do a number on the arm of The Down South Hustla.

SS: He’s getting him ready for the breaking point Mario, this is just the beginning of the end if The Crippler gets his way.

[McClain to the mat and continuing the weakening of the arm, locks in a short arm scissors sending screams of pain from the mouth of the Hustla.]

DSH: Ah! Damn it.

Ref: Whatta ya say?

DSH: NO!

McClain: Give it up.

DSH: NO!

SS: Once again the Hustla is in trouble.

MJ: That may be a little premature Sylvia.

[DSH rolls to his stomach, getting up to his knees and then planting his feet as the crowd stares in anticipation. McClain shakes his head in bewilderment as Hustla rises up to his feet with McClain on his shoulder and then quickly snaps back with a modified slam, powering out of the short arm scissors.]

SS: Yes it was Mario as we’re back to dead even in terms of control right now but Hustla has got to be hurting after the punishment on his arm.

[DSH clutches his arm as he slowly makes his way to his feet walking over to McClain who is rolling in pain. Hustla snatches McClain up by the hair and hooks him for a vertical suplex, arching backwards and leaving his feet for added impact DSH sends McClain’s back crashing to the mat with authority. Floating over into the first cover of the match.]

One…

Two…

MJ: Kickout by McClain.

SS: With these two former world champions in the ring, we’re in for a lot longer battle then this MJ, so grab yourself some refreshments because we’re just getting started.

[DSH picks McClain up again attempting another suplex this time McClain grabs the arm of DSH spinning out, he sends him crashing to the mat with a high impact arm wringer. With his opponent downed The Crippler heads to the top rope.]

MJ: What is McClain doing here?

SS: Preparing to put a hurting on the Hustla

[McClain goes to the skies, looking for a Twisting Dragon Splash he catches nothing but canvas as The Hustla moves out of the way.]

MJ: First big move of the match sends McClain southbound on his journey to the mountain top here tonight.

SS: The Down South Hustla has a golden opportunity right now if he can capitalize.

[And capitalize he does as he launches himself high into the air, leaping from the mat and coming down with a leg drop across the back of McClain’s head. He follows with another and another before picking McClain up off of the ground.]

MJ: The tide has turned and it looks like the former Hurricane Matt McClain is about to take the brunt of an offensive storm from his opponent thanks to that miss.

SS: Wow that was punny.

MJ: I have been brushing up on my comedic timing.

SS: Not funny you imbecile, punny, as in you made a tacky pun.

MJ: That’s sports baby.

SS: Don’t call me baby, dirtbag, have another drink and call this match.

[As the two commentators bicker DSH nails McClain with a picture perfect DDT, spiking him into the ground with authority. The Hustla follows up quickly with a rear chinlock, his knee placed perfectly between the shoulder blades of his opponent.]

MJ: That isn’t likely to make McClain give it up but it will sure wear him down.

SS: Damn right The Crippler won’t give up, that man has never tapped out in his career and if you think some crumby chinlock is going to do it then my counting is off and you’ve had far more beers then I thought.

MJ: Why don’t we stop talking about my drinking habits and get back to this very intriguing match up shall we?

SS: McClain is in the ropes.

[Indeed he is, his foot draped over the bottom rope, the ref forcing DSH to break the hold. The Hustla picks up the torn body of McClain from the mat and scoops him up looking for a slam, McClain counters into a small package.]

One..

Two..

MJ: That was close.

[As the two scramble to their feet DSH rolls up McClain with a school boy.]

One…

Two..

Kickout.

MJ: Both men going for the win here.

[Sunset flip by McClain.]

One…

Two…

[Hustla pushes his weight forward hooking the legs of McClain.]

One...

Two…

[McClain rolls to his side once again putting the shoulders of DSH to the mat.]

One…

Two…

[Hustla forces himself on top of McClain once again, this time with no leg hook.]

One…

Two…

[McClain bridges up and out, turning DSH into a backslide, fighting for it he puts the man’s shoulder down to the mat, driving forward.]

One…

Two…

Kickout.

SS: Wow.

Crowd: Pop.

MJ: The fans appreciate that series with a loud ovation and both men are staring at each other.

SS: That’s respect… it makes me sick.

[McClain grabs DSH by the arm and whips him to the ropes, as DSH comes charging back we see McClain swinging for the fences he misses a wild clothesline, sending him off balance and making him easy prey for the rebounding Hustla to hit a flying clothesline that nearly decapitates the crippler. Hustla hits the ropes as McClain gets back to his feet, he hits him with a clothesline, hitting the ropes again he puts McCain down with another clothesline and yet again he comes charging but this time McClain ducks, spinning quickly McClain catches the rebounding DSH with a HUGE spinebuster, following up quickly McClain steps through and turns DSH over into a sharpshooter, executed to perfection.]

MJ: Just like that The Crippler is back to crippling his opponent, The Hustla needs to get to the ropes or this match could be over right now.

SS: Oh it’s over Mario, Matthew has got The Down South Hustla locked up and he has this match on lock down, they’re smack dab in the center of the ring, he isn’t going anywhere.

[The Hustla is trying to reach the ropes crawling on his hands, dragging himself towards the ropes, pulling a reluctant McClain along with him but he can’t quite reach the ropes as McClain breaks the hold transitioning seamlessly into an STF, yanking back on the head and neck of his opponent, his teeth gritting and grinding against each other.]

MJ: What a move, sensing his opponents escape McClain has opted for a far easier hold to control the motion of his opponent and quite impressively he has transitioned without the slightest bit of hesitation and that is why he’s the thinking man’s wrestler.

SS: Brain’s and beauty, I think I’m in love.

MJ: He’s married.

SS: For now.

[Back in the ring,, despite McClain’s best efforts DSH has managed to scratch and claw his way to the bottom rope, holding it tightly like a returning lost kitty, McClain refuses to let loose the grips of the hold opting to take the rules to their full extent of a 4 count, breaking just shy of a DQ.]

MJ: The Crippler risking a loss there just to do further damage to his opponent, it’s amazing how cold hearted the man with the ice blue eyes is in the ring considering the warm heart he seems to have for his family.

SS: McClain is a family man no doubt but the Crippler, the man in the ring, got his nickname for a reason, he’s vicious and delicious, he’s destructive and holds nothing back. That Mario, is the reason he is a former world heavyweight champion.

[The Crippler stays right on top of his opponent looping his arm around his chin and locking his hands together for the perfect execution of a dragoon sleeper.]

MJ: McClain drops to a knee for even more leverage and DSH is fading fast.

SS: DSH? He’s The Down South Hustla and he’s in bigtime trouble in the grips of that man.

[DSH seems to go limp but as the referee goes to check on him McClain shakes his head no and rises up to a standing position. He drops his opponent with a falling reverse DDT, maintaining the grip like a true technician McClain comes back up with a dragon sleeper only to drop more time with the more traditional version of an inverted DDT. Hooking the leg for the pin, DSH is on dream street.]

MJ: He’s got him, he has to, that series was total devestation.

One…

Two..

Thre…

Kickout!

MJ: Holy crap he kicked out!

[A frustrated McClain once again goes for a cover, hooking the leg tighter, locking his hands together.]

One…

Two…

Kickout.

MJ: McClain pounds the mat in frustration and who could blame him, me, the fans, you, Matt and the everybody else thought that was it, everybody but The Hustla that is.

SS: I just love it when he gets all hot and angry, just watch him work now, he’s going to take this sucka apart and I’m gonna enjoy every second of it.

MJ: A little too much I think.

[The Hustla gets up to his feet as McClain waits on him, stalking his prey and ready to pounce, as DSH stumbles to his feet he is caught in a Northern Lights Suplex, no bridge, all impact. Once again McClain stalks his man ans once again his man stumbles into a suplex, this time the overhead belly to belly variety that sends The Hustla across the ring.]

SS: Oh yeah, that is what I’m talking about. McClain is on fire and he’s making me hot, hot, hot.

[DSH gets to his feet staggering, McClain races across the ring hitting a sintilating running enziguri. McClain doesn’t even attempt a pin going straight to the top rope instead. Picture perfect Moonsault connects.]

MJ: Hooking the leg.

One…

Two…

Kickout!

MJ: McClain can’t keep him down and his frustration is growing by the minute.

SS: By the second Mario, by the second and I love it. The sweat on his body just makes me…

MJ: back to the match Matt has The Hustla by the head, pulling him from the mat, he is met with a stiff elbow to the gut that doubles him over. Running knee lift by the Hustla and the momentum has swung once again.

[DSH climbs the turnbuckles, going for a high risk maneuver of his own he takes a leap of faith, nearly half way across the ring and drive the point of his elbow into the chest of The Crippler, knocking the air from his body. Not satisfied with one move, he once again scales the ropes and leaps off with a guillotine leg drop.]

SS: Come on Matty, kick out baby, kick out.

MJ: Baby? I told you he’s married damn it.

SS: Shhh…

[DSH rolls on top of McClain and hooks the near leg.]

One…

Two…

MJ: Easy kickout by McClain, he’s not nearly beaten down enough.

SS: You got that right, my man is on fire.

MJ: He’s not your man you dumb… ugh… nevermind.

[DSH loops the arm of McClain over his head but is reversed as The Crippler spins out with a twist of the arm, he looks the right arm of The Hustla over his head and hits a side suplex. McClain back to his feet drops a leg across the arm of DSH returning to where this match began, working over the arm for the breaking point. McClain lifts The Hustla to hit feet and bluntly tosses him shoulder first to the ring post, hooking the arms of his opponent as he comes out.]

MJ: Matt’s looking for the Natural Disaster.

[DSH reverses the Natural Disaster (Unprettier) locking his opponents arms for one of his own.]

SS: He can’t do that, he can’t do the Natural Disaster, that’s Matt’s move.

[And he doesn’t do it as McClain reverses the hold by raising up and putting his opponent on his back, head pointed towards the ground, arms locked he’s looking for The Overcast (Vertebreaker).]

MJ: And he hits it. This one is over, that always spells victory for McClain.

[The Crippler leans back with a non-chalant cover of his prove opponent, no leg hook, next to no weight across the chest of his opponent.]

SS: He’s not just going to beat him, he’s going to embarrass the fool who dared to mess with him.

One…

Two…

Thre…

MJ: HE KICKED OUT! HE KICKED OUT!

[McClain is once again irate as he yanks his opponent up off the ground, placing the already worked over arm of his opponent over his shoulder he drops down with an arm breaker. Back up with the arm still in hand, McClain drops down with a single arm DDT. And seamlessly as only he can do, The Crippler floats over into a reverse arm bar.]

SS: He’s taking him to school Mario, that idiot better get out while he still has the use of his arm and give it up quick.

[Somehow the toes of The Hustla manage to find the bottom rope and cause a break. McClain stands up, DSH stumbles up, McClain with the clutch and a T-Bone suplex. Then quickly to the top rope.]

SS: Shooting Star Press… OUCH!

MJ: Nothing but canvass for McClain, he should stick to the mat.

SS: Shut up, he can do it all.

[The Down South Hustla gets to his feet trying to shake the feeling back into his arm as he approach the prone McClain. Just as DSH reaches down McClain springs to life yanking him into the turnbuckle shoulder first. McClain to his feet, he wraps his arms around DSH and…]

MJ: He’s going for the rolling Germans.

SS: One.

[The Hustla hits the mat hard his head and neck cracking the canvas with a thud as McClain maintains his grip and gets back to his feet. He snaps off another one, just as vicious and violent with the same results on the head and neck of his opponent.]

SS: Two.

[And once again arching back, here comes the pain. Release german suplex sends DSH to the mat hard.]

SS: Three.

[Both men struggle to their feet only to knock each other back down with simultaneous punches.]

MJ: It would appear that McClain has been in charge most of the match but he’s missed some big moves and it’s caused him some big pain as well. Both men struggle up to their feet, McClain with a boot to the gut.

[Twist of fate wrenches the neck of The Hustla. McClain back to his feet waits on DSH and when he stands he is caught with a swinging neck breaker. McClain grabs the weakened arm of his opponent and slams it with authority down to the mat. And again. And again.]

MJ: The neck, the arm, the head, the shoulder. He’s dissecting the man with a purpose and that purpose is to push him to his Breaking Point.

SS: All the damn puns, stop visiting the pubs and write some decent material you hack, it’s pathetic.

MJ: (under his breath) Not as pathetic as fawning over a married man.

SS: What was that?

MJ: Nothing. McClain is up on the top rope again, it hasn’t been very friendly to him tonight so far but let’s see how this one goes.

[Frog splash across the outstretched arm of DSH sends him into painful contortions, rolling around on the mat in anguish.]

MJ: His shoulder has got to be killing him, but one blow to that neck will probably make him forget all about it. He’s in deep trouble and I gotta think the end is near.

[Whirl Wind (Fameasser) to DSH sends him face first to the mat, contorting his neck. McClain scrapes the prone body of The Down South Hustla from the mat and places him upside down in the corner. Walking across to the other side of the ring McClain measures his opponent.]

MJ: Big trouble for the Down South Hustla, here it comes the Flash Flood.

[Baseball slide to the face of DSH by McClain snaps his neck back with a whiplash. McClain peels DSH from the corner, dropping his limp body to the mat.]

SS: That’s right, he’s got him now, it’s time for the Breaking Point.

MJ: You may be right, McClain is waiting for him to rise to his feet.

[As The Hustla gets to his feet McClain snatches his arm attempting the arm bar take down that proceeds the Breaking Point but it is blocked.]

MJ: DSH still has some fight in him.

[DSJH twisted out of the hold, delivers a boot to the gut, then hits a stunner with his bad arm that sends him into a fit of pain of his own. DSH clutches his arm, virtually nullifying the offence.]

MJ: McClain is up first, he beat The Hustla to his feet and that can’t be good. The receiver beating the giver back to his feet.

[As the Hustla reaches his feet he is met with The Showstoppa (super kick) that sends him against the topes. Bouncing off he is caught finally in the Breaking Point (Crippler Corssface) by McClain.]

SS: It’s all over now.

MJ: I think you’re right.

[McClain tightens his grip, pulling back with all his might, cranking the neck, ripping at the shoulder. DSH reaches in vain for the ropes, holding on with all he can.]

MJ: The Hustla is hanging in there but it’s only a matter of time.

[Tap, tap, tap. The Hustla taps the mat as McClain continues to apply the pressure, the ref calls for the bell.]

*Ding, ding* MJ: Let him go damn it.

SS: Haha… make him hurt baby, make him hurt. I love this side of The Crippler.

[Finally McClain let’s go of the hold raising his arms in the air as his music hits the airways.]

[McClain helps DSH up and they exit the ring together.]

MJ: Folks that’s all for this week, but be sure to tune in next time.