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| Location: | Arena: | Date: | Attendence: | Event Rating: |
| Cameron Hall | Lexington, Virginia | 06/14/05 | 3,111 |  |
| Introduction |
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[Your local PBS affiliate out of Norfolk, Virginia comes to life as the AWA logo overtakes the screen. The cheering fans can be heard in the background as the logo fades away, revealing the inside of Cameron Hall in Lexington, Virginia. The arena is a little more than half full, but the fans have all been shifted to one side of the arena to create the image of a jam-packed house. "We Die Young" by Alice in Chains hits the stadium, signaling not only the beginning of Riptide, but also the arrival of the announcing crew, headed by Cliff Anderson. A quick scan of the arena reveals a few choice signs.] Brian Zane is absolutely PERFECT! Cormier sucks! The Nomad boldly goes where no man has ever gone before... Cliff Anderson:: Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to Tuesday Night Riptide! I'm Cliff Anderson, along with my tag team partner J.J. Jackson. As always, we're joined by the PBS-appointed play-by-... Oxford Flanigan:: Oxford Flanigan here, and I'd like to cordially welcome you all to another episode of AWA Riptide. I'll be providing my commentating expertise throughout the evening. Cliff Anderson:: Don't mind him, ladies and gents, he's got the personality of a moth. Tonight, we've got some fine action lined up for you. Ain't that right, J.J.? J.J. Jackson:: Mmmm hmmm! Dat be da truth, Cliffy. Tanight, we gotz all da biznizz up in herre. Mantrain gonna be takin' on Mista Showti-eme, an' dat's no lie! Cliff Anderson:: Once again, I'm not sure what you just said, but I couldn't agree more. Well, in our first match tonight, "The Phenom" Billy Sadistic will be taking on a youngster with a lot of potential... [Suddenly, the small AWA-Tron flickers to life, cutting Anderson off in mid-sentence.] |
| Cormier Up to No Good |
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[The owner of the AWA, Richard Cormier, can be seen marching down one of the halls in the backstage area, and the sight of him on the AWA-Tron pulls a boo out of the Lexington crowd. He has a grin on his face as he stops at the end of the hall and extends his arm off-screen. He appears to be shaking hands with somebody, but their identity remains slightly out of view.] Richard Cormier:: There's my Chosen Champion! How ya feelin' tonight, champ? Eh? You're looking pretty darn good. Well, I don't wanna keep you waiting, you've got a big match tonight. Good luck tonight...champ. [Cormier pats his unknown ally on the shoulder and grins as his Chosen Champion can be heard walking away. After a few moments, Cormier peers down into the camera.] Richard Cormier:: Well, well, well...Look what we've got here. You know, it's been a long time since I've been...no wait, I take that back. This is the FIRST time I've ever been to this God-forsaken city, and hopefully, it'll be the last time. [The crowd begins booing as Cormier simply smiles his sleazy grin.] Richard Cormier:: Now, I know all of you here tonight, and all of you watching at home are wondering who I've picked as my Chosen Champion. Could it be "Mr. Showtime" Mikey Wryght? Or maybe Haze? Or how about the Kill Devil Hills Daredevil himself, Mandrake? Well, all I've got to say is this: Don't worry about it. You'll find out soon enough. I've got something else that I'd like to talk about. [Cormier clears his throat and straightens his collar before continuing.] Richard Cormier:: We've entered the twenty-first century, and the age of computers is upon us. I'm not a dummy, and I realize that many wrestling fans read the internet dirt sheets. I know the majority of the people here tonight are aware of the fact that I was planning on hosting an SWF reunion show sometime in the near future... [The mention of the defunct federation produces a small ovation from the crowd, along with a few scattered "SWF" chants around the arena.] Richard Cormier:: But it's probably also no secret to you that there will NOT be an SWF show happening... [This news causes a chorus of boos to echo throughout the building.] Richard Cormier:: And you probably know that myself and Bryant Dean aren't on very good terms, and let me tell you why. You want a shoot, well this, my friends, is a shoot. [Cormier steps forward and stares directly into the camera with an intense look on his face.] Richard Cormier:: Bryant Dean! [The name produces a mixture of cheers and boos from the crowd.] Richard Cormier:: Bryant Dean, you son of a b{bleep}! You know how much work I put into the preparation of that show. The booking of Rupp Arena, which I've now had to cancel, losing thousands of dollars in deposits. The paychecks that I'd arranged, along with the contracts, that I'd offered to the SWF alumni that we were going to bring in for the show. Well, sorry guys, but you won't be getting the big paychecks that both you, and I, know that you deserve. You won't be getting that limelight one last time, in front of YOUR people, because Bryant Dean decided to back out of the deal at the last minute... [This information produces a negative reaction from the fans.] Richard Cormier:: And you know, I was thinking what the h{bleep}, I've got most of the guys that were in the SWF under contract. Why not just run my own SWF reunion show? But you know what, that wouldn't be right. I know it wouldn't be right, the wrestlers know it wouldn't be right, and the fans know it wouldn't be right. But I'm gonna be honest with you, this whole...ORDEAL...between myself and Mr. Dean has left a rotten taste in my mouth. And when I'm backstage walking around and I see people like Donny McNasty... [The fans begin cheering at the mention of the Television Champion.] Richard Cormier:: ...and I see people like Donny McNasty walking around proudly wearing the black and blue of the SWF, supporting that lousy, no-good bum Bryant Dean. It makes me sick. So Bryant Dean, not only have you killed the chance of your SWF alumni wrestling outside of the AWA in an SWF-exclusive event...you've also killed the chance of them wrestling IN the AWA. Tonight, I make an example. Now get outta my face. [With that, Cormier grabs the camera lens and shoves the cameraman to the ground as he stomps on by.] |
| Standard Match: Billy Sadistic vs. Willis Clayton |
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 6'1" 231 lbs. All-Rounder 1/4/0 |  |  6'2" 243 lbs. Mat Technician 0/1/1 |
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Cliff Anderson:: I don't know quite what to make of that, so I'll just leave it be. Besides, we've still got our opening match of the night coming up. [Sadistic makes his way down to the ring to a small applause from the fans. Clayton is already in the ring. Both men shake hands before the match, then referee Mitch Horton starts the match. The two men start out slow, but Sadistic slowly wears his opponent down. Sadistic hits a series of suplexes, followed by a swandive headbutt to set Clayton up for Phenomenal. Sadistic makes Clayton tap out to Phenomenal a few seconds shy of the five minute mark.] Cliff Anderson:: Sadistic just made short work of the youngster here tonight, but quite frankly, I'm surprised Mandrake didn't make an appearance during this match. He's been harassing Sadistic at every opportunity. I wonder what gives. |
| It's Showtime! |
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Cliff Anderson:: Well, I'm getting word from the back that Douglas Baggins is backstage with "Mr. Showtime" Mikey Wryght and Perfection. Take 'er away, Douglas. [The AWA-Tron comes to life and Douglas Baggins can be seen standing beside Showtime and Perfection with microphone in hand. Showtime is wearing his signature grin behind a pair of gold and brown aviators, and Perfection looks as beautiful as ever.] Douglas Baggins:: Hey all, I'm here with "Mr. Showtime" Mikey Wryght to discuss his match with Mandrake later on tonight in the main event. Showtime, your thoughts? Mikey Wryght:: That's right. Tonight, it's gonna be just like old times. Showtime and Mandrake, one-on-one. It doesn't matter if it's the EKW, the SWF, or right here in the AWA, the rivalry will always be there. And it's no secret that I've beaten the mighty Mandrake on more than one occasion. Tonight, things will be no different. Or rivalry is historic, and history has a way of repeating itself. Douglas Baggins:: Some confident words from one Mikey Wryght. But I've gotta ask ya, what about the allegations that you're in league with Richard Cormier? I mean, it's been narrowed down to you, Haze, and your opponent tonight, Mandrake. I think I know you fairly well, and you don't seem like the sort that would hang around with Mr. Cormier. Mikey Wryght:: That's because I'm not the sort that would associate with that scumbag. I don't think there's any question that I'm definitely NOT "in league" with Cormier. I've got too much class for that. I don't need the backing of some corporate slimeball to win the AWA Heavyweight Championship, and I'm gonna go out there tonight and prove it. Perfection? [Showtime motions for Perfection to follow him as the couple walks off-screen.] Douglas Baggins:: Well, there you have it. Back to you Cliff. [The camera returns to the commentating crew at ringside.] Cliff Anderson:: Folks, we've gotta take a short commercial break. Don't go away! |
| Commercial Break |
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[A huge mechanic, complete with overalls, grease all over his body, and a bald head, starts the scene. He is cleaning his hands with an oily rag when he looks at the camera a speaks in a gravelly voice.] Mechanic:: My name is Shaun, and I own the Get-it-Started Garage. My people always come to me with problems. Problems like "The ball-bearing doesn't turn", "The driveshaft is jammed", "The doohicky and the whatzit are crammed together", and "I don't pleasure my girlfriend the way I used to". Well, I have news for them. K-Y Jelly! Thats right. K-Y Jelly. It has over a hundred, and that doesn't even include the one that you're thinking about. [A music montage starts as Bon Jovi's "Slippery When Wet" begins pLaying. It shows the mechanic offering some K-Y Jelly to an assistant looking under a tire. Another mechanic using K-Y Jelly to fit a fat man through a door is shown. The final scene shows the head mechanic in a bedroom offering the K-Y Jelly to an angry woman as her boyfriend stands in the corner. The woman smiles and her and her boyfriend begin undressing, but he camera cuts away quickly.] Mechanic:: K-Y Jelly. Over a hundred uses and counting. Shhhhh. They're discovering its main use. [The mechanic nods to the bedroom door behind him and grins as the sounds of wild lovemaking can be heard from behind the door. The camera fades out as Riptide returns.] |
| Standard Match: Haze vs. Grendel |
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 6'3" 225 lbs. High Flyer 15/3/0 | |  6'10" 319 lbs. Powerhouse 0/5/1 |
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Cliff Anderson:: Welcome back. Grendel is already in the ring, set to take on Haze. Judging from each man's track record, this match should be a lopsided victory for Haze. [Haze's music hits as he makes his way to the ring garbed in his patriotic ring attire. He still promoting his book and he even attempts to take a picture with a baby at ringside. Yeah, that's right...there's a baby at ringside. What are you gonna do about it?] Oxford Flanigan:: A fine young man, this Jonathan Haze. I'd vote for him in a heartbeat. [The match starts off with Haze on the offensive, and he continues to pummel his large opponent for the duration of the match. Haze targets Grendel's knee right from the start and keeps him grounded, neutralizing his size advantage. The match ends when Haze connects with his patented 450 splash from the top rope, followed by the three-count.] Cliff Anderson:: Haze picks up the victory easily with that 450 splash which he now calls Capital Punishment. Wait, now what's he doing? [Haze has retrieved his new book, "64 Simple Steps to Save the World", along with a pen. After scribbling down his Herbie Hancock, he lays the book on Grendel's chest before heading to the back while the crowd boos.] |
| The Doctor's Office Guest: The Mad Marquis |
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[The cameraman browses through some of the AWA "ravenous" fans around the ringside area while the roadies set up the Doctor's Office set. After chronicling some of the most pathetic lifeforms known to man, the camera returns to the ring...which has now been transformed into the Doctor's Office! Dr. Payne is standing in the ring beside the table that holds his black medical bag, and he's accompanied by his tag team partner/financial advisor, Allen Stevenson. The sign that reads "The Doctor's Office" gentling sways from the rafters as Payne raises the mic to his mouth.] Dr. Payne:: Ladies and geni{bleep}s...welcome...to the Doctor's Office. [Some of the fans cheer while some boo, but those that boo are only doing it half-heartedly.] Dr. Payne:: Let me tell you, I have been around. I have seen all sorts of things in the world of professional wrestling. I have seen transvestite midgets wrestle bears, and I've seen women giving birth to hands. But in my entire career, I have never, ever seen anything like my guest tonight. I will be honest, he bothers me a bit, and I’m a wrestling gynecologist! Allen Stevenson:: The world's ONLY wrestling gynecologist, I might add. Dr. Payne:: That's right. Now I've seen the worst of the worst, and nothing bothers me...except this guy. So ladies and gen{bleep}s, seeing as how the good doctor doesn’t really want to spend a whole lot of time near his guest tonight, I now introduce to you, the sick...the twisted...the Mad Marquis! [The cynical circus music starts up, and out walks the masked Mad Marquis, void of any sex slaves this week. Though he's still wearing the black leather mask that encompasses his entire head, you can tell that there's an irritated scowl hiding behind the mask. He gingerly makes his way down to the ring and stands in front of Payne and Stevenson.] Dr. Payne:: Welcome to the show Marquis. [The Mad Marquis simply nods his head arrogantly. Payne and Stevenson exchange glances.] Dr. Payne:: Well, fruitcake, I don't know where they dug you up, but you've certainly made an impact here in the AWA. He{bleep}, in your first match, you lost your d{bleep} ear! So I guess my first question is why? Why do you put your body through all the punishment? [The Mad Marquis is handed a microphone from a stagehand, and he replies in a calm, collected manner.] The Mad Marquis:: Pain, violence, sex and love all are associated with the release of a variety of hormones and chemicals within the human body. You should know that Doctor. Furthermore, humans have been shown to exhibit sympathetic responses in their bodies while watching, hearing, or imagining such experiences. The Marquis is not unlike you, Doctor, only I enjoy pain a wee bit more. Actually, I wouldn't use the word "enjoy." To be more lucent, I would say that the Marquis dislikes pain as much as any other wrestler. Only the "feeling" of disgust, the "feeling" of regret, and the "feeling" of pain are my three-pence sisters. It is that sympathetic response of guilt that comes after the pain that I am truly addicted to. Not the pain itself, you see, but the release. The "feeling" of healing, and surviving despite the pain, that's the sine qua non of my disease. [Dr. Payne and the Fierce Accountant once again exchange glances, only this time they appear a bit confused.] Dr. Payne:: Right...Well, could you explain to me what was running through your sick mind when you actually felt your ear being torn from your head? The Mad Marquis:: To be honest Doctor, nothing at all. I was so infected with lithium and adrenaline that I didn't even notice that my ear was gone until the following day. Actually, my knee was hurting worse, funny as it sounds. It twisted pretty badly when the ladder crushed me. You see, Doctor, my psychiatrist keeps me medicated most of the day so that I don't slip into madness. Verily, he has increased my dosage, for he is afraid that the loss of both my ears will be too much for me to handle. In fact, the lithium coursing through my bloodstream now is the only reason I'm able to appear here today, cogent and comprehensible; otherwise I'd probably be at home bathing in a tub of menstrual fluids. Dr. Payne:: Wow, okay. Well, you seen like a fairly promiscuous individual. I somehow get the feeling that you may have...been around. So I guess what I'm getting at is have you been checked out lately, because as you know, I am a Doctor, and I do know a bit about STDs. They're kind of my thing. And I'm a bit worried that you may have one h{bleep}uva case of syphilis that has gone to your head, because friend, you're a bit nutty. The Mad Marquis:: Docteur non. Although I do not advocate safe sex, the root of my disease is genetic. Mon père, mon grand-père, son grand-père, and mon oncle were all afflicted with the same illness. There have been many a Mad Marquis. The history of ma famille is a deep dark hole, Doctor. You are familiar with deep dark holes, yes? [Doctor Payne gets a michievous grin on his face, prompting the Marquis to tiptoe towards him. Payne holds a hand out and takes a step back.] Dr. Payne:: Whoa. Don't stand so close to me, you freak me out. Now you've lost your ear, and you've lost your title. Do you have a message for Donny McNasty? Anything you would like to say to our Irish friend? The Mad Marquis:: Well, the Marquis has recently been informed that there has been an attempt to vandalize McNasty's bar by an unknown arsonist. Luckily for him, his bar is still standing. I just want to admit to everyone that despite the nasty rumors, I had nothing to do with that. Sure, Docteur, I want my ear, but I am not an arsonist. Do I look like an arsonist? Come on, do I? The Marquis is a sophisticated individual and he will get his ear back using sophisticated means. [Payne and Stevenson simultaneously nod their heads, agreeing that the Marquis couldn't have been the arsonist.] Dr. Payne:: Well, I certainly can't argue with that. But before you go Marquis, seeing as how you're a bit of a sadist, I was wondering if you would like the honor of helping me pick this week's Dr. Payne Va{bleep}nal Claw Challenge? The Mad Marquis:: I have no idea what you're talking about, sir, but I choose myself. Now give me the va{bleep}al claw! Please, Daddy, please! Suce ma b{bleeeeeeeep}ute! [Dr. Payne and Stevenson appear shocked by the madman's decision. The pause for a second to hold a quick meeting in the corner of the ring. They appear to be discussing the pros and cons of the situation. After a few moments of collaborating, they seem to have reached a decision.] Dr. Payne:: After thinking it over, me and my associate here have decided that... Allen Stevenson:: ...there will be no challenge here tonight. Security, get this creep outta here! [Some of the fans begin cheering as Bruce Vohland and company head down to the ring. The Professionals watch on as the Marquis begins furiously attempting to drop his trousers! Thankfully, security is able to reach him in time and drag him from the ring with his pants still around his waist.] |
| Standard Match: Rich Verboncour vs. Cody Duckett |
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6'3" 245 lbs. Submission Grappler 1/0/0 | |  6'4" 275 lbs. Daredevil 0/1/0 |
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Cliff Anderson:: The Marquis...Dr. Payne...Allen Stevenson...All three of them are looney. J.J. Jackson:: No doubt, yo. Oxford Flanigan:: Up next, we've got Rich Verboncour taking on Cody Duckett in a standard match. Mr. Duckett is already waiting in the ring. [Verboncour's music hits and out walks the One Night Stand, followed by his crazy dad, Jerry, who is knocking on his combat helmet. Rich enters the ring, and the match begins. The action is a bit sloppy, and the fans aren't really into the match. Many fans take the opportunity to go to the concession stand or use the restroom. The match ends when 40 oz runs in and nails Duckett from behind, allowing Verboncour to hit the shooting star press, followed by the pinfall. The Verboncours celebrate all the way to the back as 40 oz drives Duckett into the mat after the match with the Pulse of the Maggots.] Cliff Anderson:: Rich Verboncour picks up the win, but I think he owes it to the interference by 40 oz. J.J. Jackson:: Don't go nowheres, playas, we be right back afta dese messages. |
| Commercial Break |
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[The screen is black and white. The scene then cuts to a wrestling ring where two no-name wrestlers are fighting each other so hard that it seems that they are going to kill each other. They hit each other and they both go down. The referee is counting and then the commercial slows down.] Voice: Determination. [One wrestler begins to rise to his feet.] Voice: Resilience. [The other wrestler begins to rise to his feet and once he gets there the first wrestler lands a superkick and goes for the pin. The scene comes back into real time and the referee goes for the count. 1...2...3.] Voice:: Is it you...? [The scene then suddenly cuts to the ring at a different time with no one in the ring except "Mr. Showtime" Mikey Wryght. He begins walking toward the ropes while giving the camera a smile.] Mikey Wryght:: Could that be you? Well, if you think that it could be, then why don’t you go for it? New to the Richmond area I would like to introduce to the viewers "The Best Gym". Not only that, it is the first of my gyms that will be equipped with it’s very own wrestling school. So come down and see if you have what it takes to get in the ring. [The scene fades to black and then a giant black and green Monster Energy Drink Can falls into the frame. Then you hear a fast talking commercial voice.] Voice:: This has been brought to you by Monster Energy Drink. The official energy drink of "The Best Gym" and the AWA. |
| The Debut of a Familiar Face |
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Cliff Anderson:: Welcome back fans. I'm receiving word that Richard Cormier is gonna be coming out here to introduce the newest member of the AWA roster. ["All in the Suit that you Wear" by STP starts up, and out walks Richard Cormier to a symphony of boos. He doesn't even bother to humor the crowd with a reaction. Instead, he just walks straight to the ring and grabs a microphone.] Richard Cormier:: Ladies and gentlemen, first I'd like to tell you to shut your faces...! [The crowd responds with a...round of beers. Wait, that's not it. The crowd responds with a...round of boos.] Richard Cormier:: Now, I'd like to introduce to you the newest member of the AWA roster. But first, I'd like to bring out the man reponsible for for his signing. I give you...Marcus Shallow! [Many of the fans cheer as "Walk" by Pantera blasts over the high quality arena speakers. Marcus Shallow steps out from the back and heads down to the ring.] Cliff Anderson:: Marcus Shallow was an intergral part of the SWF at one point. I'm not quite sure Cormier is associating himself with Shallow, taking into account his great hatred for the SWF right now. [Shallow enters the ring and Cormier hands him the microphone.] Marcus Shallow:: Tonight, I have a very special announcement. A few days ago, I signed my very first superstar to an AWA contract. I'd like to bring him out right now. Come on out. ["Why Can't We Be Friends?" by War plays over the speakers, and out steps...Ron?] Cliff Anderson:: You've got to be kidding me. This guy was once employed by the Outlawz in the SWF...as their chauffeur, no less! This can't be the hot new signee that Shallow was talking about... [Ron walks to the ring looking as happy as can be. He climbs the stairs and into the ring. He shakes Marcus's hand and looks for a mic. Marcus looks very unimpressed.] Ron:: Hehehehe, I can't believe you wanted me to be under your contract. Hehehe, this is so good. Marcus Shallow:: I'm not signing you to a contract. The only reason I called you out here is because of the history you have with my guest. Cliff Anderson:: The Outlawz took this fool under their wing, but it was no use. Ron's never won a match in his professional wrestling career. Marcus Shallow:: Now, I'd like to bring out the newest member of the AWA roster...the man I've signed to an AWA contract... [The lights in the arena dim, save for one lone light beaming down on the entrance. The AWA-Tron lights up and an iron cross is shown. "Ridin'" by Buckcherry plays and the man formerly known as Akira D, "D-GenR8" Mike Edwards, steps out. He is wearing his black leather jacket, jeans, Sketchers, and a Tampa Bay visor with his hair partially pulled back. Shots of him as "Badd Ass" Akira D hitting opponents with the superkick and frog splash air on the AWA-Tron. Edwards drinks some of his water, then he slips off his jacket and sprays the water overhead. He is wearing a Meatwad "Got Meat" t-shirt. He heads down the ramp drinking more water and playing to the fans.] Cliff Anderson:: He's now going by his real name, Mike Edwards, but he's remembered by most as Akira D, one half of the greatest tag teams of all time, the Outlawz. [Edwards steps into the ring, and Ron immediately attempts to shake the D-GenR8's hand. Instead, Edwards drops Ron with a superkick, causing the crowd to erupt. Edwards drops and covers Ron while Shallow makes the three count as the crowd counts along. 1...2...3!] Oxford Flanigan:: Well, there you have it. [Edwards grabs his water and heads to the corner to celebrate as Cormier watches on with an irritated look on his face.] Richard Cormier:: Akira D? Mike Edwards? Degenerate? Call yourself what you will, but you can't change who you are. The black and blue runs your veins through and through, and that makes me sick. So Edwards...welcome to the AWA... [Cormier flashes a fake smile as Shallow and Edwards look at the AWA owner with looks of confusion.] Richard Cormier:: But you're about to be infected... [Cormier drops the mic and starts laughing as the lights go out. Strobe lights begin flashing this way and that as a raspy voice comes over the speakers, just like is has been for the past two weeks, delivering the prophetic warning.] Voice:: ...it's coming...it's...come...it's come...coming...it's coming... [When the lights resume, the ring is empty save for Ron, who is still unconscious from the superkick he received from Mike Edwards. Marcus Shallow is on the outside of the ring, and he's beside himself. Cormier has left, and Edwards is nowhere to be seen.] Cliff Anderson:: The Virus has struck again, and this time, his victim has vanished into thin air...I have no clue what's going on here. |
| Tag Team Match: The Brothers of the Dark Light vs. The Professionals |
|
James Nightbane  Machine  681 lbs. 1/0/0 | | Dr. Payne  Allen Stevenson  453 lbs. 0/0/0 |
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Cliff Anderson:: This night keeps getting more interesting by the minute. And speaking of interesting, let's go to our next match... [The Professionals come down to the ring to a mixed reaction from the crowd. Some are booing while others are cheering. Once they enter the ring, the lights go out, signaling the entrance of the Brothers. Machine and Nightbane make their way down to the ring, and the match is underway. Dr. Payne and James Nightbane start the match, and the action goes back and forth. Payne makes the tag to Stevenson, who takes control over the Dark One. After some quick and efficient tag team wrestling by the Professionals, Nightbane's tank looks to be on empty.] J.J. Jackson:: Nightbane be takin' a beatin', broseph! [Stevenson attempts the Audit on Nightbane, but the Dark One shoves him away and makes the tag to Machine. Machine cleans house, taking both the accountant and the gynecologist down with big right hands. During the intense action, referee Perry Daton is knocked unconscious, effectively turning the match into a four-man free-for-all. Nightbane hurls Dr. Payne out of the ring, then he and Machine isolate Stevenson and go to work. Machine plants Stevenson with the Goozle, but as he does so, Payne nails Nightbane from behind with his medical bag to the back of the head. Nightbane falls in a heap as Payne nails Machine with the medical bag also, sending him backwards over the top rope. Machine lands on his feet on the outside as Payne covers Nightbane while the referee "coincidentally" just happens to regain consciousness. Machine attempts to make the save, but he's too slow, and the referee makes the three-count.] Cliff Anderson:: The Professionals steal a win here tonight with some questionable tactics. I wonder what Payne keeps in that medical bag of his... Oxford Flanigan:: I'm sure he carries his tools in it. After all, it IS a medical bag. Cliff Anderson:: Well, whatever it is, we've gotta take a break. We'll be right back! |
| Commercial Break |
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[The scene opens with blackness. A message appears.] [The blackness fades away, and standing with his back to the camera is a hairy, muscular individual. He has long, shaggy hair that looks like it hasn't been brushed in years. His back is covered with several scars, as well as several patches of thick, black hair. He speaks in slow, husky drawl.] Hairy Man:: In 1993, I was out hikin' in wilds of Northern California when I was attacked by a mountain lion. It jumped on me from behind, leavin' deep gashes from its claws. It tried to take me out at the neck... [The camera pans in closer, so that the nasty missing chunk of flesh from the back of his neck can be seen. It's had over a decade to heal, but it still looks nasty.] Hairy Man:: I threw it off me, and it took a chunk o' me with it. I didn't know what had happened at first, until I saw the blood drippin' from the cat's jaws. The sight of my own blood caused somethin' to go haywire in my brain, the doctors said. I don't quite 'member what happened, but I woke up a few hours later, and I was hurtin' somethin' fierce. I had scratches all over my body. Lucky fer me, somebody found me an' took me to them doctors. [The camera pans around to the front of the man, revealing a face hidden by a thick, scruffy beard that extends to just below his eyes. His chest is covered with scars, which are in turn covered with a thick mat of hair.] Hairy Man:: They found the cat the next day. After lookin' at the "scene", they was able to put together what happened. Said I tackled the cat, then broke both its front legs. As it was fightin' to git away, I beat it to death with my bare hands... [The image of the man slowly fades away, as do his words. Then, another message appears.] |
| Standard Match: Fifteen Minute Time Limit: Donny J. McNasty vs. Brian Zane | WHRO Television Championship |
|
 6'2" 255 lbs. Brawler 1/0/0 | | 6'2" 225 lbs. Grappler 1/1/0 |
|
Cliff Anderson:: Do we even have any real commercials anymore? Bah, nevermind. Right now, Donny J. McNasty is set to defend his newly won Television Championship... Oxford Flanigan:: His newly won WHRO Television Championship! Cliff Anderson:: Right. But this week, he's taking on the hot new sensation, Brian Zane. Can the Nomad pull out the victory in this one and walk out with his belt intact? We'll find out. [Brian Zane comes out to a negative reaction, but he pays the fans no mind and waits in the ring for the champ. The Nomad makes his way out to a nice response from the crowd with his Television Championship and plays to the fans. Rolling into the ring, the Perry Daton holds the belt up for all to see, then calls for the bell. Zane tries to start the match with a tie-up, but McNasty turns the match into a brawl right from the get go. The fight spills to the outside, and eventually into the crowd, but after reaching row six, they head back to the ring just in time to beat the ten-count.] Cliff Anderson:: What a start to this title defense! McNasty has turned this wrestling match into a brawl, and it's clearly going in his favor. Oxford Flanigan:: Did Donald strike Mr. Zane with a half-eaten hotdog while they were finagling out in the crowd? [Sure enough, Zane has a large patch of mustard yellow, ketchup red, and relish green on the side of his face. The action continues in the ring as the fans are rocking in the aisles. McNasty attempts the Queen Killer, but Zane ducks it and catches the Nomad with the Seawalk Jab Combo, rousing a slight reaction from the crowd. Zane takes control of the match and begins working on McNasty's leg, eventually locking him in the figure four leglock. McNasty fights the pain, but can't make it to the ropes. Drawing on the energy from the crowd, McNasty fights and is eventually able to turn Zane over, reversing the hold.] Cliff Anderson:: What guts by the champion. [McNasty slowly builds a comeback against the challenger and has him staggered in the corner as he mounts the turnbuckle and begins pounding away on Zane's forehead as the fans count along. However, before McNasty can reach ten, Zane drops him with a short powerbomb in the corner and rolls him up for the cover, draping his legs over the ropes for some illegal leverage. The referee doesn't see Zane's feet on the ropes and makes the three-count.] Cliff Anderson:: I can't believe it! Brian Zane just pinned McNasty, but he had not only his feet on the ropes, but a handful of tights as well! This is a travesty! McNasty has been robbed, I tell you, robbed! J.J. Jackson:: Fo' sho'. [McNasty is infuriated as he pleads his case to the referee. Zane grabs his newly won belt and thrusts it into the air, causing an outpour of boos from the fans. McNasty walks over to the ropes and points menacingly as Zane, but as he's doing so, the lights go out.] |
| Another Infection |
|
[Strobe lights begin going off in the rafters
as a soft, raspy voice begins speaking over the announce system. The voice begins to overlap itself as it
issues its warning. McNasty looks confused as he heads to the
center of the ring.] Voice:: ...it's coming...it's...come...it's come...coming...it's coming... Cliff Anderson:: What in the...? Again? The Virus has already taken one victim already tonight. Now what's going on? [Suddenly, the voice stops and the strobe lights go off, leaving the arena pitch black for about five seconds. All of the lights in the arena come back on and we see McNasty in the center of the ring with a masked man wearing all black. He appears to be about the same size as the Nomad, but the lights aren't on long enough to get a great look. They are on just long enough for the voice to speak again, louder than ever.] Voice:: THE VIRUS IS HERE!!! J.J. Jackson:: Dat is one creepy... [The arena goes pitch black once again, and when they come on a few seconds later, the ring is empty, save for a lone, black rose resting on the canvas.] Cliff Anderson:: McNasty has vanished, along with this...this Virus! Somebody needs to put a stop to this. He's taken two victims tonight. Let's pray there won't be anymore. |
| Cormier's Chosen Champions |
|
[The AWA-Tron unexpectedly cuts to Richard Cormier's office somewhere within Cameron Hall. For some reason, it looks exactly the same as it did last week, and the week before that. Cormier is sitting behind his desk, but what catches the eye is a pair of shiny objects gleaming atop Cormier's desk. It's the AWA's old Tag Team Championships, and it looks like they've been shined to perfection. Cormier has a proud grin on his face as he leans forward and grabs the titles, one in each hand, and looks at them admiringly.] Richard Cormier:: You know, I was thinking of holding a tournament for these beautiful belts, but quite frankly, I'm tired of tournaments. I was thinking of some sort of gimmicky elimination match to decide the new champions, but quite frankly, I'm tired of matches, too. I figure that since I'm the owner of this business, I can do whatever the heck I want to, and by gosh, I'm going to. Last week, I disposed of two of my most hated enemies when I pulled the wool over the eyes of Nyghtmare and Revilation. I think it's only fitting that since I've rid myself of that nuisance, I should reward myself by giving...yes, I said GIVING...these shiny little straps to my pair of new enforcers! [The crowd begins booing at the sound of Cormier's little idea. He still seems genuinely impressed as he continually glances at the glimmering titles.] Richard Cormier:: But before I do that, I'm sure you fans must have an awful lot of questions. Such as what happened to me two weeks ago when Revilation and Kartier had me in their clutches? Well, I'll tell ya. My two new enforcers set me free. It was easy as pie. Now, you're also probably wondering what happened to Kartier and Revilation last week when my driver sped off with them locked in the back of my limo. Where'd they go? Well, you'll never, EVER know where they went, and that's all that you need to know! Ha ha ha! [Once again, the fans begin booing as they want to know the fates of Nyghtmare and Revilation.] Richard Cormier:: Oh, no. Don't worry. They're fine. But the place I've had them taken will assure me that they'll never harass me again, and that's what's important. So, now that'd I've gotten that little debacle off my chest, I'd finally like to reveal my new enforcers. They're my new insurance policy to assure that nobody ever lays a finger on me again. Boys, if I could get you to come in here! [The door to Cormier's office, which is somewhere behind the camera, can be heard slowly creaking open, followed by two pairs of footsteps. Cormier's smile gets even bigger, if that's possible.] Richard Cormier:: Men, I'd like to present you with these championship belts. Congratulations, you're the new AWA Tag Team Champions! [The fans begin booing mightily as Cormier hands the belts to the men standing just off screen. The men grab the belts and Cormier retracts his hands and folds them neatly in front of himself.] Richard Cormier:: Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to present to you...Cormier's Chosen Champions! [The camera slowly pans around to reveal...] Cliff Anderson:: Son of a b{bleep}! That's Kris Kartier and Revilation! What in the h{bleep} is going on here?! [The crowd lets out a loud wave of boos as Kris Kartier and Revilation, decked out in a pair of matching black suits and matching championship belts, stand at the foot of Cormier's desk with smug looks on their faces...although Revilation is still wearing his mask, so his smug look can only be assumed.] Richard Cormier:: Like I said, they'll never bother me again! Ha ha ha! Right here, we have living proof that money, indeed, makes the world go round! [Cormier walks into view and stands between his two new enforcers, resting an elbow on the shoulder of each man. Chants of "YOU SOLD OUT" echo throughout the arena as Cormier winks at the camera. Kartier and Revilation continue to stare into the camera as it fades back out to the arena floor.] Cliff Anderson:: I can't believe it! Of all the things, I would have never expected Kartier to join forces with Cormier. They were the bitterest of enemies! And Revilation, too! I guess money IS a powerful ally... |
| The Dark Side of the Force |
|
Oxford Flanigan:: I'm glad that those to hoodlums have cleaned up their act and adopted some class. Now, in a few short moments, the Atlantic Champion, "Son of a Gun" Josh McCool, will be taking on a mystery opponent in his first title defense. [The AWA-Tron shows activity once again, this time in a dark, dimly lit room. Inside this room, the vague figures of two ominously robed individuals can be made out, although one is much larger than the other. The smaller of the two speaks.] Darth Penatratus:: Do you understand your task, Lord Conbeatus? [There is a moment of silence, and neither figure moves. A quiet sigh is heard from Penatratus.] Darth Penatratus:: Do you understand your task...Lord Mikey? [The larger figure nods quickly.] Darth Penatratus:: Then go, and remember what I told you. Use the Force. Do not fail me, my young apprentice. [The large, robed figure walks out of the view of the camera as the AWA-Tron cuts out.] Cliff Anderson:: I have no clue what's going on here, but I'm sure we're about to find out... |
| Standard Match: Josh McCool vs. Mystery Opponent | Atlantic Championship |
|
 6'9" 287 lbs. Powerhouse 12/0/0 | | ??? ??? ??? 0/0/0 |
|
[McCool's music hits, and the Atlantic Champion emerges from the back to a small roar of cheers from the crowd. The fans sing along to his music as he awaits his mystery opponent in the ring. Suddenly, the Empire theme from Star Wars starts up, and out walks a large, robed figure. He's wielding a fake lightsaber that looks to have been constructed from the cardboard core from a roll of wrapping paper and a few Forest Green Crayola Crayons. Fans aren't sure what to think as the giant figure steps over the top rope and waits for his music to cut out.] Oxford Flanigan:: This Darth Mikey, or whatever he calls himself, is a large individual, and he matches up well against the Son of a Gun in the size department. Cliff Anderson:: Just a reminder, folks, since this match is for the Atlantic Championship, it's a best two-out-of-three-falls match, and the over-the-top-rope rule is enforced. [The referee starts the match, and immediately, Darth Mikey holds out his hand menacingly in the direction of Josh McCool. McCool just stands there and looks at Mikey awkwardly. After realizing that his "Force" is having no effect on McCool, Darth Mikey becomes enraged and charges the champion with his lightsaber in hand. McCool ducks the wild swing of the cardboard tube and bounces off the ropes on the far side. Mikey's wild swing didn't connect with McCool, but it DID connect with the top rope, and Darth Mikey's poor lightsaber has been broken in half! Mikey appears to be confused as he holds his useless weapon in front of him and slowly turns around. When he turns, McCool is there running with a full head of steam, and he nearly decapitates Mikey with the Facelift, knocking the big apprentice for a loop! The fans erupt as McCool picks up the easy pinfall.] Cliff Anderson:: My, that was quick! Darth Mikey is already down by...wait a minute. That looks like Mikey Mayham! [Sure enough, the force of McCool's vicious clothesline has knocked Mikey's hood off, and lying in the middle of the ring is Mikey Mayham.] Cliff Anderson:: Fans, if you're not familiar, Mikey Mayham was one of the four Mayham brothers that were with the SWF during it's final incarnation. But what in the heck is he doing in the AWA? [Mikey struggles to get to his feet, but McCool is there waiting for him with a boot to the gut. McCool positions Mikey for a powerbomb and jerks him up into the air in a show of uncanny strength. Once in the air, McCool simply lets Mikey Mayham fall as he may, and he lands oddly on his left shoulder, crumpling on impact. McCool drops to his knees and places a hand on Mayham's chest to pick up his second and final victory, retaining his title. The crowd goes banana!] Cliff Anderson:: Well, McCool certainly made short work of this young apprentice, as he's called. Wait, what's this? Commissioner W. William Suhgs is coming out from the back. This is unexpected. [Sure enough, Commissioner Suhgs storms down to the ring to a small chorus of boos.] |
| Commissioner's Ruling |
|
[Suhgs climbs into the ring, wearing a sleazy suit with an off color combination. He's got a mic in his hand and scowl on his face.] W. William Suhgs:: Whoa! Whoa, whoa, whoa! Whoa. Hold on a second here. Now McCool, I know you may not be aware of this, because you're not a very bright guy, but I was watching in the back, and I must say that I was appalled by your actions. For the love of God, Mikey Mayham is mentally retarded! I'm afraid that I have no choice but to declare that this match never happened! [The fans vocalize their displeasure with this decision and McCool doesn't appear too happy, either. Suhgs goes over to check on Mikey, who's just now coming to.] W. William Suhgs:: Are you alright, young man? Mikey Mayham:: Yes, Darth Penatratus... [A guilty look overcomes the Commissioner, but he quickly hides it with a smile.] W. William Suhgs:: Wha...what? Heh heh. You see, he's clearly not well. He can't even see me for the man I am, the AWA Commissioner...W. William Suhgs! Get out of the ring, Mikey. [Suhgs not-so-kindly nudges Mikey out of the ring under the bottom rope with his boot.] W. William Suhgs:: Now where was I? Ah, yes. This match. McCool, I'm afraid that I can't have a match involving one of our champions beating on a defenseless retard going into the record books, so I'm going to have to strike this match from the records. [An infuriated McCool gives Suhgs a rough shove to the chest, knocking him back a few steps. The fans love it.] W. William Suhgs:: Did you just lay your hands on me, Mr. McCool? Did you just lay your hands on an AWA official? [McCool slowly nods with a proud grin on his face.] W. William Suhgs:: Well, I must say that I respect you for standing up to me. Because you've shown such courage, I'm going to allow this match to stay on record... [The crowd cheers, and McCool smiles.] W. William Suhgs:: ...however, you did lay your hands on an AWA official, and I can't allow that to go unpunished. So, as of right now, I'm effectively stripping you of your Atlantic Championship! Now hand it over! [The crowd begins booing like crazy, and McCool looks infuriated!] Cliff Anderson:: He can't do that! He can't just take the belt away from him like that! Oxford Flanigan:: Oh yes he can! He's the Commissioner! He can do whatever he wants... W. William Suhgs:: Now, are you going to hand me that belt, or am I gonna have to call security down here to TAKE IT from you?! [McCool still appears enraged, but he seems to be calming down. He looks at the belt, then at Suhgs. He shakes his head slowly and reluctantly hands the belt over to the Commissioner. Suhgs greedily grabs the belt and turns to walk away with it, but McCool hangs on. Not only does he hang on, he yanks the belt towards him, pulling Suhgs along with hit. As Suhgs stumbles towards McCool, he's leveled by the Facelift! The crowd goes nuts!] Cliff Anderson:: Josh McCool has just clotheslined the Commissioner straight to h{bleep}, and these fans loved it! [McCool isn't finished yet. He lifts Suhgs' limp body off the ground and slams him to the mat with the WMD, causing another delightful wave of cheers from the fans. Before McCool leaves, he drops the belt on the Commissioner's chest and whispers a few choice words into his ear.] Cliff Anderson:: Well, McCool's been unjustly stripped of his title, but I think he got some measure of revenge against our corrupt Commissioner. Don't go away, we've gotta take a short commercial break. |
| Commercial Break |
|
[A commercial for a show that will be airing on PBS begins with a voiceover.] Voice:: Everybody has money. Everybody wants money. Everybody loves money. But where did money come from? Don't miss the all new PBS Original this Thursday when John McLarkin takes a look at...the penny. [A penny, featuring former U.S. President "Honest Abe" on the front, is shown at point blank range on the screen. The title of the show appears at the top of the screen: "The History of U.S. Currency: The Penny."] Voice:: Where did it come from? What is it made out of? How much is it worth in U.S. cents? Join us this Thursday as we take a look at the one...the only...the penny. And be sure to tune in the following week as we take a look at the history of the three-bits. [Fade to black.] |
| Interview with a Demon |
|
[Riptide returns to find Reece Williams holding a microphone to the tip of Mandrake's goatee-covered chin in the backstage area. The Kill Devil Hills Daredevil has his eyes closed as he begins to speak.] Mandrake:: In just a few moments, I have a match with Mr. Wryght, but that's not my primary concern at this point in time. My mind is preoccupied with somebody a little bit more...important. Reece Williams:: You must be talking about "The Phenom" Billy Sadistic. I assume you've heard that he's refused to face you, or even have anything to do with you? Mandrake:: Aren't you a smart cookie, Miss Williams? That's exactly who I'm talking about. William, I'm tried taunting you. I've tried provoking you. I've blown snot on your parents' graves. I've stolen your precious little pendant, but you still refuse to face me. You tell the people that you're above my little games, but I know the truth. I know that you're scared, William. I know that you're scared of the Crimson Demon. Reece Williams:: Could you shed some light on who this Brethren is that you're always spotted with? [Mandrake simply stares through Reece and doesn't even acknowledge her question.] Mandrake:: I've been doing a lot of thinking to try and figure out a way to grab your attention. I was asking myself "What could I possibly do to him that would make him face me?" And then it hit me. I know exactly how to make you face me, William. I'll see you in the ring tonight...by any means necessary. [Mandrake quietly walks off, leaving Reece alone with her microphone. She gives an awkward shrug as the camera switches back to the ringside area.] |
 Richard Cormier's Tournament of Champions: Semi-Finals: Standard Match: "Mr. Showtime" Mikey Wryght vs. Mandrake |
|
6'3" 253 lbs. All-Rounder 4/7/0 | | 6'3" 217 lbs. Daredevil 13/3/0 |
|
["Mr. Showtime" Mikey Wryght makes his way down to the ring, accompanied by the lovely Perfection. The fans cheer as Showtime enters the ring and plays to the crowd.] Cliff Anderson:: This match has the potential to steal the show, but there's always that thought lurking in the back of your head that one of these guys could be Cormier's Chosen Champion. [Mandrake makes his way out from the back and is met with a solid round of boos from the Cameron Hall crowd. He seems preoccupied as he enters the ring. Senior official Perry Daton checks both men for foreign objects, then starts the match. The men begin circling each other, and the staredown begins, with each man trying to gain a psychological advantage over the other. They finally lock up, and a series of armbars and hammerlocks occurs, ending with Showtime being whipped into the ropes and Mandrake connecting with a springboard missile dropkick.] Cliff Anderson:: What athleticism by the daredevil. Love him or hate him, Mandrake is one of the most talented high flyers in the game today, and that's a fact. [Showtime shakes off the dropkick, and he and Mandrake go at it again. This time, Showtime gets the better of the exchange and hurls Mandrake out of the ring over the top rope, causing the fans to cheer. Outside of the ring, Mandrake begins stalking Perfection, but as he does so, Showtime cuts him off from the ring apron. A wild brawl ensues on the outside of the ring where there is liberal use of the steel chair, and Irish whips into steel ringsteps are multiple. After breaking the count a few times, both men weakly slide back into the ring as the crowd cheers Showtime on.] Cliff Anderson:: This action is amazing! J.J. Jackson:: Yo, it's off da hook, dawg! [Showtime appears to be favoring his right shoulder, and Mandrake takes advantage, targeting in the injured area. Showtime is fading fast, and Mandrake can sense the end. After hitting the Lament Configuration and scoring a two-count, the Kill Devil Hills Daredevil locks Showtime's head into place and prepares to execute the Gale Force Advisory. Perfection quickly climbs up onto the ring apron and begins flaunting her assets. There are random hoots and hollars from the crowd as the referee turns his attention to Perfection. The crowd suddenly erupts as a pair of men sprint out from the back.] Cliff Anderson:: That's Rich and Jerry Verboncour! Looks like they're out here to get a little revenge on Mandrake for what he did to them during the Pain Games match two weeks ago! [Jerry and Rich slide into the ring, and Jerry nails Mandrake in the back with his army helmet, staggering the daredevil. Meanwhile, Rich has bounced off the ropes and he sprints towards Mandrake, connecting with incredible force with his giant, Texas-sized belt buckle to the head! Mandrake is down and out, but Rich isn't finished yet. He climbs the ropes and nails the daredevil with the shooting star press. Jerry pulls Pest on top of Mandrake, then the Verboncours promptly exit the ring. Perfection drops down off of the ring apron just in time for the referee to turn around and make the three-count!] Cliff Anderson:: Showtime wins! Mandrake has been eliminated from the tournament by Mikey Wryght, with a little help from the Verboncours! I can't believe it! Oxford Flanigan:: What I can't believe is how these people can actually cheer for that pair of heathens! Their actions are despicable! [Mandrake rolls out of the ring as Jerry, Rich, Perfection, and Showtime all celebrate the victory inside the ring. The fans begin cheering as Showtime's music hits.] |
| Pandemonium |
|
[As the four celebrate happily in the ring, Haze slowly steps out from the back, clapping his hands sarcastically. The fans begin to boo the corrupt senator as he slowly makes his way to the ring and around to one side. He grabs a folding steel chair and makes like he's going to slide into the ring with it, causing those in the ring to call him on. Unfortunately, Rich, Jerry, Showtime, and Perfection are oblivious to Mandrake, who has entered the ring from their blindside with a shovel in hand.] Cliff Anderson:: Oh no... J.J. Jackson:: I can dig it, sucka. [Rich Verboncour is the first to fall victim to a vile shot from the shovel, laying him out. Jerry turns around, but it's too late, and he get's drilled right between the eyes. Haze slides into the ring from the other side of the ring with his steel chair while Showtime tries to get Perfection out of harm's way. Haze is too quick, and he catches Showtime across the back with the steel chair, dropping him to his knees. Before Perfection can get out of the ring, Mandrake grabs her by her beautiful hair, causing her to scream. The boos from the crowd are deafening!] Cliff Anderson:: She's a woman! Let her get out of the ring! Oxford Flanigan:: I must agree, this behavior is astonishingly inappropriate. [Haze nails Showtime with a shot to the head with the chair, and he fall in a heap. Mandrake tosses his shovel to Haze, then he looks down at the helpless Perfection, who is struggling in vain to escape from his grasp. Suddenly, she begins slapping and scratching at the Kill Devil Hills Daredevil, and he shoves her to the mat and motions for her to get out of the ring, turning his attention back to Mikey Wryght. However, before Perfection can make it out of the ring, Haze comes at her with the shovel. The screen quickly cuts to a pre-recorded shot of the crowd as the deafening boos from the crowd triple!] Cliff Anderson:: My God! My God! Haze just nailed Perfection with that shovel! He just broke that shovel across her back! D{bleep}it! We need some help out here! Somebody get out here! Anybody! [The shot returns to live action, and Perfection's prone body is lying crumpled at ringside with a portion of broken shovel a few feet away from her. Security is actually having to hold a few fans back from storming the ring as Haze and Mandrake have their way with Showtime. Jerry and Rich are still out cold, and have been unceremoniously deposited on the outside of the ring. Mandrake continuously glances towards the entrance as if he's waiting for somebody. Then, grabbing the steel chair, he unfolds it and places it in the center of the ring. The crowd continues to boo, and a few fans even toss garbage into the ring. Mandrake and Haze drag Showtime towards the corner.] Cliff Anderson:: Don't tell me...No! I think Mandrake is going to powerbomb Showtime from the top rope onto the backrest of that steel chair! This is the exact same thing that he did to Sadistic in the SWF that nearly paralyzed him. Where's security?! [As if on cue, Bruce Vohland and a half dozen of his hired hands jog down to the ring. Mandrake climbs up onto the top rope and prepares to lift Showtime for the powerbomb as Haze takes out each security member the moment they stick their head through the ropes.] Cliff Anderson:: This is sickening! Mandrake is gonna paralyze Mikey Wryght, and Haze is gonna have a free ride all the way to the Heavyweight Title! He's gonna break Showtime's back. [The twangy guitar intro to "Paint it Black" by the Rolling Stones echoes throughout the arena, and Mandrake immediately drops Showtime to the mat. The deafening boos turn to cheers as the Crimson Demon gets an evil grin on his face. Sadistic sprints out from the back with a Louisville Slugger in hand and dives into the ring. Haze and Mandrake bail out of the ring at the last second as the Phenom takes a swing at them from inside the ring, barely missing. Sadistic's face is contorted with rage as he checks on Showtime. Haze and Mandrake backpeddle up the ramp with identical grins on their faces.] Cliff Anderson:: Finally, the Phenom has put an end to this destruction! [After checking on Showtime, Sadistic hops out of the ring and checks on Perfection, motioning for the trainers to come down from the back. The show goes off the air with Showtime and the trainers checking on Perfection while Sadistic and Mandrake exchange cold stares from the opposite sides of the arena.] Cliff Anderson:: Folks, that's all the time we have for you tonight! Tune in next week! [Fade to black.] |
