 |
| Location: | Arena: | Date: | Attendence: | Event Rating: |
| Graham High School Cafeteria | Bluefield, Virginia | 06/07/05 | 490 |
 |
| Introduction |
|
["We Die Young" blasts over the Graham High School speakers and the packed cafeteria comes to life! Every seat is filled as the commentating team of Cliff Anderson, J.J. Jackson, and Oxford Flanigan make their way out to the announcer's table beside the ring. A quick survey of the crowd reveals the following signs: I voted for Jonathan Haze! Kartier is Cormier's worst Nyghtmare! Nightbane = Ratings! Cliff Anderson:: Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to AWA Riptide! I'm Cliff Anderson, along with J.J. Jackson and... Oxford Flanigan:: ...Oxford Flanigan. We have a splendid show lined up on this fine evening. Cliff Anderson:: That's right. Tonight, Cormier starts his invitational tournament for the AWA Heavyweight Championship. The Mad Marquis will be defending his WHRO Television Champion against "The Nomad" Donny J. McNasty...wait, hold on. I'm getting word that something is happening in the back. J.J. Jackson:: Already?! Cliff Anderson:: That's what they're telling me... |
| Cormier's Chosen Champion |
|
[The camera switches to a backstage handheld, where the AWA Owner, Richard Cormier, is seen stepping out of his black stretch limo. He dressed in a fine suit, sans tie, and he's got a cocky smirk on his face. Suddenly, a stage hand decked out in AWA attire and a headset rushes into few. He's panting heavily and speaks between breaths.] Stage Hand Steve:: M...Mr. Cormier! The M...Mad Marquis de...demands your presence! He s...says that he w...won't defend his title un...unless he gets his ear back! Richard Cormier:: The Mad Marquis wants his ear, you say? [Cormier laughs to himself while mumbling something under his breath.] Richard Cormier:: Okay, Steve, tell him I'll be there to see him shortly. [Stage Hand Steve nods obediently, then trots off in the direction he came from.] Richard Cormier:: Hey, Steve! You never told me where to find the Marquis! Stage Hand Steve:: He's locked himself inside the girl's locker room, next to the gym! [Cormier looks confused, but he continues walking towards the building. Opening up the door to the side entrance, he steps inside and is met by an unknown man. A smile spreads across the AWA owner's face.] Richard Cormier:: There's my Chosen Champion! Are you ready for your big first round match tonight? [The hallway the two men are walking down is dark, and the identity of the other man is impossible to make out. Cormier's Chosen Champion slowly nods his head in response to the owner's question.] Richard Cormier:: Good...good...I know you'll have your hands full tonight, but there's no doubt in my mind that you can beat him. And if something goes wrong, I'll take care it. I always take care of my boys. [With a hearty laugh and a pat on the back, Cormier sends the mystery man on his way. Straightening his collar, Cormier continues his journey down the dark corridor alone.] |
| An Interview with a Senator |
|
Cliff Anderson:: I wonder who Cormier's Chosen Champion could be... J.J. Jackson:: Are you whack, sucka?! Don't you rememba the 'ol AWA? Haze was Cormier's main man, playa. Oxford Flanigan:: I have no idea what you two are ramblings about, but speaking of Haze... [The camera switches to a backstage handheld, where Haze is seen pacing back and forth. He is in his wrestling attire and he has a mixed look of worry and anger on his face. Reece Williams approaches him for an interview.] Reece Williams:: Hey, Haze, do you mind if I get a quick interview before your match? Haze:: Yeah, that's fine, but I apologize, I haven't been myself lately. Reece Williams:: Oh, I’m sorry. What’s wrong? Haze:: Well, it started when I found out about who my first round opponent would be. Reece Williams:: You mean Rosco Pico Train? Haze:: Yes... Reece Williams:: Sooo...what’s the problem? Haze:: What’s the problem?! Reece, we’re talking about Rosco Pico Train here. He is arguably the most talented wrestler to ever enter the squared circle. I don’t know what I've done to Cormier lately to tick him off, but this is uncalled for. Rosco Pico Train? Why doesn’t he just schedule me to fight the Grim Reaper himself? I’m sure that’s who he has planned for me next...that is, if I somehow manage to walk away from this match. [Reece gets a confused look on her beautiful face, but Haze is too busy worrying to notice.] Reece Williams:: Wait a minute...Are we talking about the same Rosco Pico Train here? Haze:: Unfortunately, yes...You know, I once considered Richard Cormier to be on of my best friends, but after this I just don’t know anymore. Reece Williams:: That’s odd. I assumed that you were the one that was just walking with him a few seconds ago in that dark hallway. Haze:: But I was standing here just a few seconds ago. Reece Williams:: Yeah, I guess you're right. You have been here the whole time. It's just that...well, after he mentioned picking a Chosen Champion, I just assumed it would be you again. All the guys in the back have a pool going around and just about everybody is predicting it to be you. Haze:: Reece, I'm not gonna lie to you. I've talked with Richard a few times since I've been back, but we're not as close as we used to be. I mean, I'm a shoe in to be his Chosen Champion. After all, look at my reign the first time. It was unmatched! Nobody was even close to me! By all rights, I should be his Chosen Champion! Reece Williams:: Well, I'm sure the fans will be very sorry to hear about this. However, your match with Mr. Train isn't too far away... Haze:: Ah! Anybody but Rosco Pico Train! I’d rather fight twenty Showtimes, or ten Mandrakes! [Haze shakes his head in disgust as he walks out of view to prepare for his BIG match. Miss Williams still has a confused look on her pretty face.] Reece Williams:: Good luck, I guess... [The beautiful reporter simply shrugs at the camera as it returns to ringside.] |
| Richard Cormier's Tournament of Champions: Round One: Standard Match: Willis Clayton vs. Grendel |
 |
 6'2" 243 lbs. Mat Technician 0/1/0 |  |  6'10" 319 lbs. Powerhouse 0/5/0 |
|
[Both wrestlers come to the ring to virtually no reaction. The referee for the match is Mitch Horton. Grendel starts the match off strong using his size to overpower the smaller Willis Clayton. After a few minutes, Clayton starts coming back and the two go through a series of weak holds and counterholds. Willis starts going to work on Grendel's knee, grounding him. After putting Grendel through a handful of painful submissions, Clayton heads to the top rope for the Swandive Headbutt. Just as Clayton is about to take flight, the lights in the arena go out, bathing the cafeteria in darkness. Strobe lights begin
going off above the ring just like last week on Riptide and the soft,
raspy voice returns.] Voice:: ...it's come...coming...it's coming...come...it's coming... [As the voice continues overlapping and repeating itself, pounding noises can be heard in the ring as if the match is continuing. While it is too dark to really see what is happening, three shadowy figures can be made out instead of just the two that were in the match before. One of the figures is swinging lefts and rights at both of the other two. The figure can barely be seen executing a brainbuster on one of them and then hitting a reverse tornado DDT on the other. The voices continue through all of the activity, but finally come to a halt as the strobe lights go out. The sound of fighting in the ring is now over and the same raspy voice is heard once again, this time in solo mode and slighty louder.] Voice:: The Virus is HERE! [The lights come back on, revealing both Grendel and Willis Clayton laid out in the ring. Each has a black rose placed on his chest. Referee Mitch Horton appears flabbergasted and begins waving to the back for help.] J.J. Jackson:: Holy sh... Oxford Flanigan:: Watch yourself. Cliff Anderson:: Fans, I just don't know what to tell you. Obviously, this match is over. Let's go to commercial. |
| Commercial Break |
|
[The commercial opens with a newly married bride and groom sitting in a green room.] Man:: I remember the first time we went there. A-mazing! [An old man replaces the husband and wife in the green room. He has a walking cane and thick glasses.] Old Man:: Dad-gummit! I reckon I go there 'bout once a week. I love it there. [A shot of Timothy Cormier comes onto the screen. He, too, is sitting in the green room. Something about the AWA owner's brother just screams "slimeball".] Timothy Cormier:: I'm not gonna lie to you, I go there at least every other day... [Timothy puts on a false grin, but finally breaks down and confesses.] Timothy Cormier:: Okay...every day. But let me tell you, it's worth it. [The green room is now occupied by a little boy with freckles and braces.] Little Boy:: My mommy drops me off there every Wednesday after school. If I'm good, I get to bring a friend with me next week. [The green room fades to black as an advertisement pops up on the screen:] Voiceover:: Food, games, and sex. Grannies and grandchildren welcome. |
| W. William Suhgs presents the "Billy Suggs Going out of Business Sale." |
|
[When Riptide returns, W. William Suhgs, the AWA Commissioner, is already in the ring with a microphone in hand. The fans are throwing scattered boos in his direction, but he ignores them and raises the microphone to his mouth.] W. William Suhgs:: I told all of you little jerks last week that'd I'd be here tonight to hold the "Billy Suggs Going Out of Business Sale", and I'm a man of my word...most of the time. Now, I'm sure that those of you that aren't as intelligent as I am...which would be all of you... [The fans begin booing the Commissioner, but he smiles a toothy grin and takes it all in.] W. William Suhgs:: I'm sure you're all wondering what exactly it is that I'm selling. Well I'll tell ya! Nothing! This isn't really a sale at all. It's more like a giveaway! [The crowd isn't quite sure what to make of Suhgs, but they listen anyhow.] W. William Suhgs:: I'm sure some of you remember when I was with some other company that I won't bother mentioning, I was seduced by the Dark Side. Yes, that’s right, the tobacco industry. My shameless promotion of cigarettes...my dark, sweet mistress...left me hopelessly addicted. Six months of shock treatment combined with the use of several nicotine patches affixed to my sc{bleep}tum have, at last, alleviated my addiction. It’s time for me to forget about smoking forever, and I will do so with a bang. [Commissioner Suhgs reaches into the breast pocket of his lime-colored sports coat and retrieves a pack of Laramie Cigarettes. He holds it up for all to see.] W. William Suhgs:: This is the final pack of cigarettes I received in my sponsorship deal with Laramie Tobacco, and I will dispose of them in style. Tonight, in my very first sale, two of our superstars will face each other in a...Pack of Cigarettes on a Pole Match! [Suhgs awaits a big response from the crowd, but most faces bear a confused look. Suhgs continues excitedly.] W. William Suhgs:: Here’s how it works: The cigarettes must first be retrieved from atop the pole. To win, a superstar must light one of the cigarettes, take a puff, and put it out...on their opponent! The loser must then smoke any remaining cigarettes! Now, I know you must be wondering how we can make the loser smoke nearly an entire pack of cigarettes? [Again, he's met with silence.] W. William Suhgs:: Well, it's simple. If the loser doesn't smoke them...they're fired! Ha ha ha! Who should I put in this match? Let me think for a second...I've got it. Tonight, in the Pack of Cigarettes on a Pole match, it will be...Haze vs. Rosco Pico Train! [Suhgs begins laughing maniacally, and a few fans in the crowd are laughing as well, but most just appear frightened. Suddenly, "All in the Suit that you Wear" by the Stone Temple Pilots plays over the speakers, and out walks AWA Owner Richard Cormier. He's met with boos, but he stomps down to the ring and climbs in between the ropes.] Richard Cormier:: Now William, I told you this already. I don't think are gracious sponsors would appreciate you making our wrestlers smoke cigarettes in front of all the young, impressionable children that are probably watching at home right now...at midnight...I'm not so sure that match is a good idea... W. William Suhgs:: Richard, they're just cigarettes. I was watching PBS right before I came out here, and I poop you not, I saw Elmo light up a cancer stick and take a drag. [Mr. Cormier ponders it over in his head, and it appears from the look on his face that the Commissioner has talked some sense into his boss.] Richard Cormier:: Well, you can't argue with Elmo. Besides... [Cormier stares directly into the camera.] Richard Cormier:: ...I'm sure if they didn't like it, they'd just cut it out anyways. [There's an uneasy silence in the ring as Cormier continues staring into the camera. After a few moments, Suhgs jumps in to break the silence.] W. William Suhgs:: But wait! There's more! I bet a lot of you are thinking to yourselves: "Gee, William, your speech is so articulate and free of filth. What happened?" I'll tell ya what happened! I cleansed the gutter that was my mouth. You see, a few weeks back, in the middle of a swear-filled fragment of a sentence, I caught the eye of my daughter. You see I recently had a baby girl... Richard Cormier:: Wait a second. You had a baby girl? When did that happpen? W. William Suhgs:: Okay, okay. So it's not exactly a girl...or a human. Maybe it's just a little puppy named Rosey...she’s my six week old lab mix, by the way...but I realized what a bad f{bleep}in' example I was setting. If only I had been the only one infected by such language of sin, but alas, everywhere I turn, I hear the F-word, the S-word, the A-word, the B-word...the J-word. Now, I know I can’t help everyone, but I will cleanse the words of one of our superstars. That's right, in my second installment, two of our superstars will compete in a soap... [Suhgs looks around to build up suspense as Cormier watchs on in confusion.] W. William Suhgs:: ...on a rope... [Suhgs looks around again, trying to build even more suspense. Cormier looks at his watch impatiently while simultaneously tapping his foot.] W. William Suhgs:: ...ON A POLE MATCH!!! Here's how it works: After retrieving the bar of soap from atop the pole, and perhaps using it like a mace to inflict some deep bruises, the winner must use the soap to scrub the sinful words from their opponent’s mouth! We will rid the world of foul language, one AWA superstar at a time! Richard Cormier:: I can't see any problems with that... W. William Suhgs:: Great! And the participants in the match will be...The Mad Marquis and Donny J. McNasty! [The fans let out a slight cheer at the mention of McNasty.] W. William Suhgs:: Now, to finish off this sale, and put Billy Suggs to rest once and for all, I've got the perfect match in mind for the main event. As many of you know, I used to be an avid hunter, and I killed a lot of bucks in my day. But I've seen the error of my ways. Deer are beautiful creatures and shouldn't be hunted. That's why tonight, I give up hunting...forever! That's right...tonight it will be Billy Sadistic versus Mikey Wryght in the main event...in a Hunting Rifle on a Pole match! The rules are simple. To win, you must retrieve the rifle from the pole...and shoot an apple off your opponents head! Richard Cormier:: Okay, I'm gonna have to step in. We can't have a loaded rifle involved in a wrestling match. Somebody could get killed, William. I'm afraid I'm going to have to shoot down that last stipulation. W. William Suhgs:: Why? Richard Cormier:: Well, I thought I just made it clear why. You can't kill people. It's against the law. W. William Suhgs:: But this is professional wrestling. Real laws don't apply in professional wrestling... Richard Cormier:: William, I assure you, I was just boning up on my...uh...professional wrestling rulebook, and killing is clearly prohibited. W. William Suhgs:: Oh...okay. Well, that's the end of the "Billy Suggs Going Out of Business Sale", and now, I can finally lay my old self to rest. Good luck tonight, gentlemen. [With that, Suhgs drops the mic and he and Cormier head to the back as "All in the Suit that you Wear" starts up again.] |
| Richard Cormier's Tournament of Champions: Round One: Pack of Cigarettes on a Pole Match: Haze vs. Rosco Pico Train |
|
 6'3" 225 lbs. High Flyer 14/3/0 | | 6'4" 201 lbs. Submission Grappler 0/5/0 |
|
Cliff Anderson:: That was...interesting...to say the least. Oxford Flanigan:: That was absolute rubish! Cliff Anderson:: Well, it looks like the upcoming match will be a Pack of Cigarettes on a Pole Match. You know the rules. Let's get this show on the road... [Rosco Pico Train comes to the ring to very little reaction, followed by Haze, who is the recipient of his fair share of boos. He attempts to shake a few hands, but not many fans accept his offer. Haze starts the match quickly by attacking Rosco while the referee is checking his kneepads. Haze pummels his opponent without mercy, not even allowing Train to get in a single offensive maneuver. Haze hits Train with Democracy, followed by Capital Punishment, before he climbs the pole to grab the pack of cigarettes.] Cliff Anderson:: Haze just grabbed the pack of cigarettes. It looks like he's the winner of this match. J.J. Jackson:: Not yet, mooty. He gotz ta put that doobie out on Rosco, bro. [Haze obtains a lighter from the referee and lights up one of the cigarettes. Rather than puff on it, he bends over the fallen Rosco Pico Train and puts the red cherry out directly in the middle of Train's forehead. Rosco begins to squirm with pain, but Haze lays a few boots into his head to settle him down. Emptying the cigarettes into his hand, Haze takes the handful of tobacco products and stuffs them into Rosco's mouth.] Cliff Anderson:: He just stuffed that whole pack of cigarettes deep into Train's gullet. That's disgusting! [Haze signs the copy of his book and lays it on Rosco's chest, then poses and waves to the crowd before a laying a few more boots into his fallen opponent. Train coughs up gnarled cigarettes as Haze makes his way to the back unscathed.] Cliff Anderson:: Well, it looks like Haze now has a bye all the way to the finals, since the Grendel/Clayton match was a draw. We've got the Doctor's Office up next, and from what I've heard, Dr. Payne has something special planned for tonight. |
| The Doctor's Office Guest: Allen Stevenson |
|
[The camera takes a few moments to take in some of the unique AWA fans in the crowd as the ring crew sets up Dr. Payne's set in the ring. After a few minutes of browsing through the cafeteria, the camera returns to the ring. Inside the ring, there is a fine red fabric covering the canvas. The gynecological chair is there, along with the wooden table holding Payne's black medical bag. Dr. Payne is in the ring, standing below the sign hanging from the rafters that reads: "The Doctor's Office".] Dr. Payne:: Ladies and geni{bleep}s, welcome...to the Doctor's Office. [Most of the fans boo the crazy gynecologist, but some actually cheer. Dr. Payne looks different tonight. He looks...ashamed.] Dr. Payne:: I have a confession to make. It’s not going to be easy, but it has to be done. Now, it is a well known fact that I had been exiled in Mexico for the last six months, practicing gynecology and maintaining my skills as a doctor of the vag{bleep} region. And the reason I gave was that I had my gynecological license revoked by the American Medical Association due to a few...mishandled patients...and that’s very true. But that is not the only reason that I had to leave the country. You see, the good doctor was never very good with numbers. I always had a hard time adding and subtracting in grade school, and that problem has followed me throughout my entire life. In college, it was nearly the end of my gynecological dreams, but somehow, through sheer strength of will and furious determination, I managed to graduate. And after graduation, I opened my first gynecological practice, and it was in this first endeavor that my lack of mathematical skills finally caught up with me. Within a month of opening the doors to my office, I found that I had fallen far behind in the recording and accounting duties for the financial portion of my business. [Dr. Payne begins pacing back and forth in the ring with his head down, and he appears to be embarassed by the story that he's telling.] Dr. Payne:: Eventually, the FBI found out about my poor financial records, and they came after the good doctor. They took my business, they took my savings, and they even tried to take my black medical bag. Eventually, I had enough. The actions of the FBI, in conjunction with the loss of my medical license led me to flee to Mexico to escape the persecution of those in the United States who wanted to punish Dr. Payne for being the most talented wrestling gynecologist in the world. But now, I have met a man who will make sure nothing like that ever happens to Dr. Payne ever again. I have met a man who is so good with numbers, he makes Einstein look like a high school dropout that didn’t get his GED! I have met a man who is every bit the equal to Dr. Payne both in the ring and in his chosen profession! And now, ladies and geni{bleep}s, the surprise I promised you last week, I would like to introduce to you the man who will help me rid the AWA of the infectious human waste that populate this promotion. I give you...Allen Stevenson! ["Money" by Pink Floyd starts up and out struts the Fierce Accountant with his briefcase in hand. He means business and heads straight to the ring, not bothering to acknowledge the mild reaction he receives from the crowd. Climbing into the Doctor's Office, he grabs a mic and stands beside Payne while his music fades out.] Allen Stevenson:: Dr. Payne, we're both professionals here. In fact, we're the only professionals in the AWA, and I think the business you run has a good chance at making it. Now, I took the privilege, like I often do, of looking over your balance sheet and your cash flows report. It looks to me like you've allowed a mule, or some equivalent farm animal, to do your books. According to these papers, I see that you don’t always have a consistent price for all your clientele. [Dr. Payne just shrugs his shoulders and holds out his hands innocently.] Allen Stevenson:: Now, after scrutinizing your records, I've concluded that your revenues currently aren't outweighing your expenditures, but with a little bit of my "creative accounting" we might be able to fix that. Trust me; I know how to keep the IRS off of your back. I think that if we joined forces, not just professionally, but also as a tag team, we would be unstoppable. So if you have the balls, and the equity, like I think you do, then you'll accept my offer. What do you say? [Some of the fans begin booing as Dr. Payne stares at Stevenson's outstretched hand. His face is unreadable as he looks from Stevenson's face to his hand, then back to his face again. After a moment, a smile splits the doctor's face and he joins the accountant in a hearty, professional handshake. The boos from the fans come even louder now.] Cliff Anderson:: Good grief. I think we've just witnessed the formation of a new tag team... [Dr. Payne appears to be very happy now as he speaks into the microphone.] Dr. Payne:: Now, for my second surprise of the Doctor's Office...It's a well-known fact that throughout the world, the most feared and painful hold in the history of professional wrestling is the Vag{bleep}al Claw! Since the days of ancient Rome, when gladiators used to kill their opponents with the vaginal claw, it has struck terror into whoever has had to face its castrating clamp. And Dr. Payne’s claw is no different! [Dr. Payne is now holding his right hand in front of his face, which he stares at with sick delight as he rambles on.] Dr. Payne:: I learned my claw from the master of the Vag{bleep}al Claw, the man who is a legend in the old Pacific Northwest territory, "Captain Crotch" Brian Schiedel! But you see, I didn’t just learn the hold...I perfected it! Every day I do over 10,000 forearm and finger curls to ensure that my claw remains a steel trap, ready to spring upon any unsuspecting va{bleep}a, either in my office in Mexico, or in the wrestling ring here in the AWA! But I am worried. I fear that I may be losing my edge. I worry that no matter how much I train, I'm still out of practice. I need to apply the claw in a real-life situation, which now leads me to my second surprise of the evening. Right here, right now, I am announcing...The Dr. Payne Va{bleep}al Claw Challenge!!! [Payne beams with pride as Stevenson stands by his side in support. Some of the fans appear amused while some look eager.] Dr. Payne:: Yeah, that’s right. Your ears aren't deceiving you. I am prepared to offer fifteen pesos to anybody who thinks that they break my Va{bleep}al Claw! All you have to do is step into the ring, allow me to place the Va{bleep}al Claw upon you, and then succeed in escaping my cold grasp. If you can complete this difficult task, you'll be given fifteen pesos! Why pesos, you ask? Because that's all I have left! So tonight, I am offering this opportunity to anybody out in the crowd that thinks they can break my claw! Come on! Who wants fifteen pesos?! Oxford Flanigan:: I can't believe what I'm seeing. I was under the impression that this was a wrestling show. [Payne and Stevenson begin searching the crowd for a challenger, and eventually, the Fierce Accountant spots somebody. Payne walks over and points him out.] Dr. Payne:: You. Yeah, you. Come on up here. Let's see what you've got. [A short, skinny kid climbs over the guardrail and into the ring. He appears excited to be in the ring.] Dr. Payne:: Okay, son, what's your name, and where are you from? Teenager:: My name is Mike O'Brien, and I'm from Bluefield, Virginia! [The crowd cheers, showing their support for the hometown hero. Dr. Payne simply smirks as he pulls a latex doctor's glove out of his pocket and slips his powerful hand into it.] Dr. Payne:: Okay, Mike, you just stand right here in the middle of the ring, and I'm gonna apply my patented hold. When I say "go", you try to break free. Understand? [Mike nods his head as the good doctor reaches down to apply his claw. Before he makes contact, the camera switches over to a pre-recorded shot of the fans.] J.J. Jackson:: Dis foo looks like a pervert... Dr. Payne:: Ready? Go! [A cry of pain can be heard as the crowd tries to rally behind Mr. O'Brien.] Oxford Flanigan:: This is disgusting... Cliff Anderson:: O'Brien is trying to break the hold, but I think he's succumbing to the pain...He doesn't look like he's gonna last much longer. Oh, no! Allen Stevenson just nailed him in the back of the head with his briefcase! The poor kid is out cold, and Payne's still applying the pressure! J.J. Jackson:: Payne be havin' himself some fun. [The camera returns to the ring, were the hometown hero is laying prone on the mat. Dr. Payne pulls the fifteen pesos out of his pocket, kisses them, then returns them. Payne and Stevenson exit the ring to a chorus of boos, leaving O'Brien down and out in the Doctor's Office.] |
| The Perfect Interview |
|
[The shot cuts to the backstage area, where Douglas Baggins is shown outside of Brian Zane’s locker room.] Douglas Baggins:: Ladies and gentlemen, I am standing outside the locker room of AWA newcomer, the "Perfect Prima Donna" Brian Zane. I’m looking to get a word with him and get his thoughts on his match tonight with Mandrake in Richard Cormier's Tournament of Champions. [Baggins knocks on the door of the locker room. After waiting a moment, an elderly butler answers the door.] Douglas Baggins:: Um, I’m here to get a word with Brian Zane. Butler:: Ah yes, Mr. Baggins, Master Zane is expecting you. Do come in. [Baggins and the cameraman enter the locker room. Brian Zane is sitting in a chair in his ring gear, eyes closed, getting a shoulder massage from an attractive woman while a four-piece string ensemble plays ambient music in the corner. Baggins approaches Zane.] Douglas Baggins:: Um, excuse me, Mr. Zane? You requested this interview time? Brian Zane:: Hmmm? Ah yes, Dougie, good to see you. I can see you’re a bit overwhelmed by the ambiance of my private locker room. I decided to splurge this week. So yeah, you had some questions? Douglas Baggins:: Well, I’d like to get some words from you regarding your opponent for tonight, Mandrake. Brian Zane:: There are no words that I can use to talk about Mandrake, except for ones that cannot be uttered on television. The Pirate Daredevil is simply no match for me...not tonight, not any night. Now I know what you’re going to say, "Mandrake is a big star of the AWA! He’s a former Heavyweight Champion! You’ve met your match Zane!" Well you know what? That was three years ago when he was champion; a lot may have changed in that time. And might I add, he was the last champion the AWA had before it folded, which tells you something about the amazing drawing power that he had! Anyone who doubts the Perfect One will get a slap of reality tonight, and that goes especially for Mandrake! Now get out of here, Dougie! [Zane leans back and resumes getting his massage while the butler escorts Baggins out of the locker room. The camera returns to the commentator's at ringside.] Cliff Anderson:: Folks, don't go away. The AWA will be right back! |
| Commercial Break |
|
[The commercial opens on a little kid playing pinball in a run-down arcade. People crowd around him like he is a movie star, and you can only see the
back of the kid's head. The pinball bounces all over the machine to the sounds of Van Halen's "Hot
for Teacher." The boy is "shucking" and "jiving" and rocking out at his
game and the scoreboard keeps going up and up and up, until it finally reaches
999,999. At that point it turns back over to zero. The boy quits his game and walk's off; a person from the crowd grabs hold of
the machine and keeps playing, continuing the game from 0. The boy turns round so the audience can finally see his face. He is a
horribly disfigured little piss-ant who looks like a mini-version of the Elephant man. He flashes a yellow-toothed smile.] Ugly Little Boy:: Even I can be popular at CluckZilla arcades. [Suddenly, the Swedish bikini team shows up and crowds around the disfigured boy; they throw him kisses and feign their love for him. The screen cuts to black.] Voiceover:: Come to CluckZilla arcade, where even the ugliest person can know what it feels like to be beautiful...if only for a moment. |
| Richard Cormier's Tournament of Champions: Round One: Standard Match: Mandrake vs. Brian Zane |
|
 6'3" 217 lbs. Daredevil 12/3/0 | |  6'2" 225 lbs. Grappler 1/0/0 |
|
Cliff Anderson:: Welcome back, fans. We're all set for the third match in Richard Cormier's Tournment of Champions, pitting the Kill Devil Hills Daredevil against the Perfect Prima Donna. [Both men come to the ring to boos and feel each other out for the first portion of the match. Brian Zane holds his own against the Crimson Demon, which comes as a surprise to the announcers. Midway through the match, Zane takes control and begins working over the daredevil. Zane catches Mandrake with the Seawalk Jab Combo, then locks in the Figure Four Leglock, trying to get the submission. After struggling in the hold for a few minutes, Mandrake is finally able to reach the ropes, but the damage has been done.] Cliff Anderson:: Mandrake's only got one good wheel. [Zane continues the offensive against the daredevil, working on his injured leg. Every time Mandrake starts to mount an offense, Zane goes right back to the leg, taking him to the mat. Sensing that the end is near, Zane goes in for the kill, scoring several nearfalls against his adversary. Becoming frustrated, Zane gets sloppy, allowing Mandrake to score a two-count on a schoolboy roll-up. Mandrake begins a comeback culminating with a brainbuster, but before the daredevil can drop him on his head, Zane slides down his back and hits Perfection!] Cliff Anderson:: There is it! Perfection! All that's left is the three-count! [The referee is in position and makes the count. 1...2...Mandrake drapes his foot over the bottom rope. Zane is incensed, and unleashes a flurry of punches. Mandrake is whipped into the ropes and Zane goes for a back body drop, but the Crimson Demon leapfrogs him and puts on the brakes. Zane spins around and catches a face full of blue mist from the daredevil! Blinded, Zane is easy pickings for Mandrake and gets planted with the Gale Force Advisory! Mandrake hooks the leg for the cover. 1...2...3!] Cliff Anderson:: What a match! The daredevil barely...and I mean BARELY...comes away with that match. What an impressive showing by Brian Zane. He came within an inch of moving on to the next round. Oxford Flanigan:: I must agree that it was a fine piece of wrestling...well, except for Mandrake's under-handed tactics at the end. Cliff Anderson:: Fans, I'm getting word that Mr. Cormier has found the Mad Marquis backstage. |
| All Ears |
|
[A camera finds Richard Cormier stomping around backstage. He's just arrived at the door leading into girl's locker room, and he's got a jar tucked snuggly under his arm. Taking a deep breath, Cormier enters the locker room. The girl's locker room is dimly lit, and it's hard to see.] Richard Cormier:: Marquis? You in here? [Soft laughter can be heard, and Cormier tries to follow the sound. He finds the Marquis around the corner with a few of his...friends. A blue dot is covering the Marquis' head so that his mutilated, missing ear can't be seen.] The Mad Marquis:: Oh, my dear, sweet Cormier. You've finally arrived...and not a second too soon. Richard Cormier:: Yeah, well I heard you were threatening a strike tonight if I didn't get your ear back to you... [The Marquis jolts upright and holds his arms outstretched, waiting for Cormier to present him with the formaldehyde-filled jar. Cormier hands him the jar, but the Marquis quickly snatched it out of his hands and cuddles the jar against his cheek.] Richard Cormier:: Does...this mean you'll wrestle tonight? The Mad Marquis:: Oh, my heroic, lovely Cormier. For you...I'd do anything! Anything... Richard Cormier:: Okay, well tonight, I want you to defend your Television Championship against the Nomad. Can you do that for me? The Mad Marquis:: Your request is my desire. Richard Cormier:: Okay, I take it that's a yes... [Cormier turns to leave the dingy little room, but stops to speak over his shoulder before he leaves.] Richard Cormier:: ...oh, and you DO realize that you could have come and picked up your ear at any time, don't you? Nobody was keeping it from you. All you had to do was pick it up from the medical staff...Oh, and you might wanna wear something to cover your...uh, ear...tonight, because we can't cover you with a blue dot during your match. Good luck out there. [The Marquis' head jerks upright as he stares after Cormier, his face still covered by the blue dot.] The Mad Marquis:: ...what? |
| Tag Team Match: The Brothers of the Dark Light vs. Cody Duckett & 40 oz |
|
James Nightbane  Machine  681 lbs. 0/0/0 | | Cody Duckett 40 oz 515 lbs. 0/0/0 |
|
[The arena darkens and out come the Brothers of the Dark Light, Nightbane and Machine. The crowd boos them on their way to the ring, but they don't quite make it to the ring. Halfway to the ring, they're jumped from behind by Duckett and 40 oz!] J.J. Jackson:: Looks like they's gonna punk 'em out 'fore the match even starts! [Duckett and 40 oz throw Nightbane into the ringsteps outside the ring, then isolate the big man inside the ring. Perry Daton starts the match as 40 oz and Cody Duckett take turns delivering punches to the giant German, which only stagger the big man. Eventually, 40 oz steps out onto the ring apron. 40 oz and Duckett tag frequently but can't quite seem to take down Machine, who appears lost without Nightbane on the ring apron. Finally, Nightbane recovers and climbs up onto the ring apron. Almost as if a trigger has switched inside the big man's head, Machine begins destroying 40 oz.] Cliff Anderson:: Machine is dismantling 40 oz in a big way! [Machine Goozle's 40 oz, then tags in Nightbane, who picks up the scraps. After toying with him for a bit, Nightbane finishes him off with Darkness Falls. Duckett attempts to make the save, but Machine meets him with a Goozle for his troubles. Nightbane picks up the pin over 40 oz as the fans shower them with boos.] Oxford Flanigan:: I must say that Machine is an impressive specimen. Cliff Anderson:: It appears that the Brothers of the Dark Light aren't quite finished yet. [After the match, Nightbane nails 40 oz with the End of Light, followed by a Machine Goozle. Left decimated on the mat, Nightbane covers his eyes with a pair of Minnesota quarters. The fans boo as the two make their way to the back. Cody Duckett slides back into the ring to aid his fallen partner. 40 oz slowly stands to a small ovation from the crowd, but he appears to be in great pain. Duckett slowly raises 40 oz's hand for the crowd to show that he's okay...then boots him in the stomach and powerbomb's him to the mat!] Cliff Anderson:: What in the h{bleep}?! Duckett's just turned on his partner! J.J. Jackson:: Dat's what he gits fer losin' 'em da match! Oxford Flanigan:: Stay tuned, fans. We've got to take a commerical break. |
| Commercial Break |
|
[A filthy man with a scraggly beard can be seen standing in a small sailboat
in the middle of a vast expanse of water. He is bailing water out of the
boat with a small wooden bucket, but it doesn't seem to be doing much good. The camera continues panning in and the old man turns his attention to the
viewers at home.] Billy Bones:: Oh, hello there! Billy Bones is the name, and have I got a deal for you! This month only, the Chum Bucket is offering specials on all things chum! Chum burgers, chum shakes, chum salads, and chum cobbler, just to name a few! Come on by for the chummiest meal on the east coast! Children under ten eat for half price and get a free miniature chum bucket. So come on down! [He returns to his bailing as a very cheap-looking graphic comes onto the screen. It reads: "The Chum Bucket...1424 Eelgrass Lane...". Just before moving on, someone doing a terrible impression of a pirate begins to speak.] Horrible Pirate Voice:: Yarr, and be sure to visit us at our new location at the end of the wharf. Arrrrrr! |
| Soap on a Rope on a Pole Match: Fifteen Minute Time Limit: The Mad Marquis vs. Donny J. McNasty | Television Championship |
|
5'11" 199 lbs. Extremist 1/0/0 | | 6'2" 255 lbs. Brawler 0/0/0 |
|
Cliff Anderson:: Well, folks, the Commissioner has made a small change to this match. It is now a Soap on a Rope on a Pole match, but the fifteen minute time limit still applies. [McNasty makes his way to the ring followed by a loyal pack of midgets. Some fans laugh while others cheer. The Mad Marquis makes his way out wearing some sort of black S&M mask to cover his heads, and he too is followed by a small group of...friends. Setting the jar containing his ear in his corner, the Marquis turns to face McNasty. McNasty immediately attempts to rip the Marquis' mask off, but the deranged aristocrat is able to fend him off. Marquis takes the advantage after a low blow and beats his opponent down in the corner. The Mad Marquis hits the Mad Dagger on McNasty in the corner, causing the camera to cut to a shot of the crowd as the Marquis ravages his opponent. While this is happening, all hell breaks lose and a brawl erupts between the Marquis' "slaves" and McNasty's midgets.] Cliff Anderson:: This is insane! The ring is filled with black leather and short people! [The Mad Marquis appears to be in the middle of the ring getting trampled not only by his slave, but short stumpy legs, as well. Amidst the confusion, the Nomad is able to climb the pole and retrieve the soap on a rope. Wielding it like a mace, he dives into the crowd of humanity swing the soap at anything that moves. He finally locates the Marquis and begins scrubbing his mouth with the soap. The Marquis fights desparately to escape, and is eventually pulled out by his servants. The crowd is going crazy as the Nomad celebrates in the ring with his loyal posse of midgets! One of the midgets runs to the corner and grabs the jar containing the Marquis' ear and hoists it above his head, leading a cheer for the crowd!] Oxford Flanigan:: I'm speechless! The Mad Marquis is a sophisticated individual. If anybody is deserving of having their mouth scrubbed with soap, it's Donald McNasty! Cliff Anderson:: Well, we've got a new champion! Jolly Roger:: Arrgh! This be ridiculous! The winner...and new WHRO Television Champion..."The Nomad" Donny McNasty! Grrr! [The Marquis appears infuriated as he demands his ear back. Donny stands in the ring, taunting him with both the jar and the belt as the camera cuts to the backstage area.] |
| Sadistic Ramblings |
|
[Backstage, we find Reece Williams with a microphone in hand, standing beside the Phenom. He has a troubled look in his eyes as he stares off past the camera.] Reece Williams:: I'm here with "The Phenom" Billy Sadistic to get some words on his upcoming... Billy Sadistic:: Showtime! Mikey! You and I have been friends for quite some time now. I don't know if these fans know it or not, but you were the one that was there every day while I was numb from the waist down. You were one of the few people that cared about me, and for that, I'm grateful. But tonight, business is business, and I've gotta do what's best for me. Reece Williams:: So what's the story between you and Mandrake? He's been hounding you for years, and he nearly paralyzed you at one point in the SWF... Billy Sadistic:: The SWF! There's a name that brings back memories. Some good, but mostly bad. You had guys like Mandrake, who was an a{bleep}hole on-screen, and then there were guys like Bryant Dean, who was an a{bleep}hole behind the scenes... [Sadistic stares straight into the camera for a second and gives a twisted smile.] Billy Sadistic:: But let's focus on my old friend Mandrake, if we could. Yeah, it's true. He follows me like a shadow. No matter where I go, or how far I run, he's there to torment me. And for what? Why? What'd I do to deserve this? Reece Williams:: Could it have something to do with this Brethren that he's involved with? Billy Sadistic:: You know, that's very possibly, but I always thought that the Crimson Demon was...stronger...than that. But you know what? I don't even care anymore. I'm tired of running. Let's just say I give in and fight you, and I beat the snot out of you. Then what? Will he quit following me? No! He won't stop. Ever! Mandrake, you need to have some sense knocked into you. You're not thinking clearly. Unfortunately, I'm not the man to do the knocking. Mandrake, I've got better things to do than look over my shoulder all the time. Now, Reece, if you'll excuse me, I've got a match to get ready for... [With that, Sadistic calmly walks off screen, leaving Miss Williams speechless.] Cliff Anderson:: What happened to the Phenom? I've never known him to walk away from a fight...He's changed. |
| Tag Team Match: Kris Kartier & Revilation vs. The Hooligans |
|
Kris Kartier  Revilation  496 lbs. 0/0/0 | | Josh McCool Rich Verboncour 532 lbs. 0/0/0 |
|
[Revilation and Kartier make their way to the ring to a nice reaction from the crowd. Commissioner Suhgs and Cormier are spotted backstage watching the match on one of the monitors.] Richard Cormier:: I hope these four beat the living h{bleep} out of each other. W. William Suhgs:: Me too. I can't stand any of them. [The Hooligans, McCool and Verboncour, make their way down to the ring to a nice pop from the crowd. Verboncour, followed by his father, and the Atlantic Champion play to the crowd as referee Mitch Horton starts the match. Verboncour and Kartier start the match, and Kartier quickly isolates Rich in his corner. Kartier and Revilation work nicely as a team, keeping Verboncour in their corner and cutting the ring in half. After about five minutes of punishment, Verboncour finally escapes and makes the hot tag to McCool. The SOB hits the ring and dishes out multiple clotheslines to both Kartier and Revilation, earning a nice ovation from the audience.] Cliff Anderson:: Josh McCool is a house of fire! Oxford Flanigan:: Look at the Son of a Gun go! [McCool cleans house, sending both men tumbling from the ring. At this point, Richard Cormier steps out from the back with a huge grin on his face. Kartier and Revilation don't see him at first, but the boos from the fans tell them something is wrong. They turn and see the AWA Owner and immediately start going after him. Horton begins the mandatory ten-count, but Kartier and Revilation could care less. Cormier backpeddles away from the ring and ducks into the backstage area as Nyghtmare and Revilation follow him back. McCool and Verboncour look confused in the ring as the referee calls for the bell, awarding them the match.] Cliff Anderson:: Well, that was a very anti-climatic ending. The Hooligans are gonna pick up the win via countout. However, I'm more concerned with Richard Cormier and those two rabid pitbulls that are hot on his tail... J.J. Jackson:: We gots ta take a commercial break, my suckas... |
| Commercial Break |
|
[The "commercial" comes to life in a dark alley. Standing in this alley is a very large, muscular figure. Beside him stands a short, fat man. They appear to be standing next to an Irish bar. The large, muscular man is holding a bottle with some sort of cloth sticking out of the neck. The shorter man begins speaking with a Mexican accent.] Short, Fat Man:: Do it. Light it. Light it! [The large man complies, and suddenly, a Molotov Cocktail is born. With a powerful throw, the bottle smashes into the side of the bar, and the entire wall is suddenly engulfed in flames! The two men run off.] Short, Fat Man:: Let's see him drink his Guiness without his bar, no. [The "commercial" fades out as the bar burns to shambles.] |
 Richard Cormier's Tournament of Champions: Round One: Standard Match: "Mr. Showtime" Mikey Wryght vs. Billy Sadistic |
|
6'3" 253 lbs. All-Rounder 3/7/0 | | 6'1" 231 lbs. All-Rounder 1/3/0 |
|
[Riptide returns with an infuriated Donny J. McNasty pacing back and forth backstage, screaming into a cell phone.] Donny J. McNasty:: C'mon, pick up the phone! Pick up the phone, Harv! [After a few more moments, the Television Champion hurls the phone into the wall, smashing it into pieces. Grabbing his belt and his luggage, the Nomad storms out of the high school as the camera returns to ringside.] Cliff Anderson:: I'm not exactly sure what's going on, but it would appear that somebody has burned the Nomad's bar to the ground. Oxford Flanigan:: We don't have time to speak about such nonsense! This is a wrestling show, and we've got a main event to call! [Mr. Showtime comes to the ring, accompanied by his lovely valet, Perfection, to a nice ovation. Sadistic appears next, and he also receives his far share of cheers. Both men shake hands before the match, and Perry Daton calls for the bell. Sadistic and Wryght go through a series of holds and reversals, but neither man can get an advantage. The fans applaud their great show of technical wrestling. Sadistic and Showtime lock up again, and Showtime takes the advantage, using his submission skills to wear down the Phenom with a variety of armbars and headlocks.] Cliff Anderson:: I'm not sure if most fans are aware, but Wryght and Sadistic had a very heated rivalry in the SWF several years back. I think it's safe to say that these to men know each other very well. [Sadistic fights out of Showtime's clutches and makes a comeback, connecting with several different suplexes that result in a nearfall. Sadistic takes control over Wryght, and the crowd begins to rally behind him. Showtime fights back, and the two begin trading blows in the ring. Showtime rocks Sadistic and mounts an offense. After connecting with the slingshot suplex, Showtime locks in the Annoyance!] Cliff Anderson:: Mr. Showtime has scored many a victory with that hold. Let's see if the Phenom's bad knees can withstand the damage. [The crowd cheers Sadistic on, and he finally makes it to the ropes. Showtime has Sadistic where he wants him and sets him up for the Spotlight. As Showtime twists the Phenom into position, Sadistic slips out, locks Wryght's head, and drives his head into the canvas with the Sadistic DDT!] Oxford Flanigan:: Ouch! Cliff Anderson:: This one's over! Wait a second...what's he doing out here?! [As Sadistic crawls on top of Showtime for the cover, Mandrake strolls out from the back. An ivory pendant in the shape of ship dangles from his hand, and sarcastic smile curls his lips. Sadistic climbs off of Showtime and hops out of the ring. The referee begins the mandatory ten-count, and Sadistic appears to be torn between going after the pendant and finishing the match.] Cliff Anderson:: Unless I'm mistaken, I believe that's the pendant that Mandrake stole from Sadistic's parent's gravesite. [Sadistic slowly shakes his head and turns his back on the ring as the referee continues the count. Mandrake slowly walks backwards, taunting the Phenom with the pendant, and Sadistic follows him into the backstage area. Daton reaches ten and calls for the bell, awarding the match to Showtime, who slowly comes to.] Cliff Anderson:: Mandrake continues to torment the Phenom, costing him a shot at the Heavyweight Championship at Back in Black. Oxford Flanigan:: I don't understand. Why'd Mandrake cost him the match? If he wants to fight him so bad, why didn't he let him cover Showtime? Now, it's going to be Mikey Wryght facing Mandrake next week instead of Sadistic. Cliff Anderson:: I don't know, Ox, but I'm being told that Kris Kartier and Revilation have chased Richard Cormier all the way out of the school. |
| Chasing Cormier |
|
[The camera switches to the backstage area, where we find Cormier running from the building towards his limo. Cormier yanks the door open and hops in.] Richard Cormier:: Go, go! Get me outta here! [The limousine doesn't budge.] Richard Cormier:: Are you deaf?! I said GO! [Still, the limo doesn't move. The camera pans around to find Nyghtmare and Revilation jogging out of the school towards the limo.] Kris Kartier:: Cormier! You're not going anywhere! [The camera pans back around the limousine. Cormier can no longer be seen as he's shut the door. Kartier dives into the limo through the sunroof as Revilation peels the door open and climbs in, slamming the door shut behind him.] Cliff Anderson:: Oh no! This spells trouble for Cormier. Who knows what those to sickos are gonna do to him in there... [Suddenly, the sound of the automatic door lock can be heard, and the sunroof slowly slides shut. The limo burns out in the parking lot and speeds off as Richard Cormier appears from behind the limo. He waves as the limousine turns out of the parking lot and dissappears. Cormier looks proud as he chuckles to himself.] Richard Cormier:: Looks like you won't be bothering me for a long...looong time. Cliff Anderson:: Cormier's just pulled a fast one Kartier and Revilation! Oxford Flanigan:: Brilliant! [Fade to black.] |
