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Location: Arena: Date: Attendence: Event Rating:
Owensboro Sports Center Owensboro, Kentucky 07/12/05 4,063
Introduction


[The AWA logo flashes on the screen as Riptide opens to the Owensboro Sports Center. Although the arena is a thousand seats shy of the capacity, the house is still rockin’. "We Die Young" by Alice in Chains blasts from the speakers, signifying the start of the show as Cliff Anderson, J.J. Jackson, and Oxford Flanigan, complete with monocle and velvet coat, make their way down to ringside. The Owensboro fans are not only rowdy, but creative, as well. Get a load of those signs.]

Revilation is the scum of the Earth!

Bring back the Circus Folk!

Brian Zane is perfectly retarded.

Haze is a horrible senator.


[Taking their place at the commentating table, the threesome begins their duties for the night...]

Cliff Anderson:: Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the Owensboro Sports Center here in Owensboro, Kentucky! This place truly is marvelous, wouldn’t you say Ox?

Oxford Flanigan:: Oh, most certainly. Not a grey spot in this city, I might add..

Cliff Anderson:: Folks, tonight Haze defends his AWA Heavyweight Championship against the Dark One himself, James Nightbane. That promises to be something special.

J.J. Jackson:: Less not forget ‘bout the Son of a Byo{bleep}h takin’ on Nightbang’s big retard for dat TV Title, yo!

Cliff Anderson:: Correct you are, my dimwitted friend. But up first, Mandrake takes on Cody Duckett and 40 oz in a triple threat match, and I’m predicting the Kill Devil Hills Daredevil by a mile-and-a-half!
Standard Match:
Cody Duckett vs. 40 oz vs. Mandrake
Cody Duckett

6'4"
275 lbs.
Daredevil
1/3/2
40 oz

6'6"
240 lbs.
Powerhouse
1/3/2
Mandrake

6'3"
217 lbs.
Daredevil
14/5/0
[Duckett and Mr. Ounce come out to no response whatsoever from the crowd. Their entrances are followed by the arrival of the Kill Devil Hills Daredevil too a huge reaction from the crowd. While he may very well be one of the most evil men in wrestling, he still receives a few cheers mixed in with the chorus of boos out of respect from the SWF fans. Mandrake patiently makes his way down to the ring as Duckett and 40 oz state at each other.] Cliff Anderson:: You’ve gotta be wondering what’s going through the minds of Cody Duckett and 40 oz right now. This isn’t a match, it’s a punishment! There’s no way in heck you’d ever catch me in the same ring as the Abomination of Desolation… [Mandrake climbs into the ring and is immediately rushed by Duckett and 40 oz. However, the Crimson Demon has a double-clothesline waiting for them, sending both men down to the canvas. Neither man has a chance as Mandrake pummels them both at will, twisting them both into pretzels. Finally deciding to put an end to the beating, Mandrake nails Cody Duckett with the Lament Configuration, followed by the Gale Force Advisory on 40 oz. He slaps a hand down on each man’s chest as the referee counts to three.]

Oxford Flanigan:: That’s all? I was certain that both men were doomed.

Cliff Anderson:: I wouldn’t be so sure that they aren’t…
Are you feeling…numb?
[After the match, Mandrake rolls out of the ring without missing a beat. Duckett and 40 oz begin to stir in the ring as Mandrake retrieves a chair and slides back into the ring. Duckett is the first to feel the chair’s wrath, dropping to the canvas like a sack of wheat. A second later and 40 oz is right down beside him. Mandrake stares out into the crowd for a second before unfolding the chair and placing it in the center of the ring. The fans begin to boo as the Crimson Demon peels Cody Duckett up off the mat.]

Cliff Anderson:: Oh, no. He’s gonna do it again. He’s gonna try to paralyze Cody Duckett… This isn’t right. Security needs to come out here, and I mean now!

[Mandrake drags Duckett’s limp body to the corner, then he hops up onto the turnbuckle. After working Cody into position, Mandrake lifts with all his might, hefting his adversary up into a powerbomb position on the top rope...]

Cliff Anderson:: This isn’t right! Cody Duckett is a twenty-one year old kid! Cody Duckett’s got a family, and Mandrake doesn’t give a da{bleep}!!!

[Launching himself out of the corner, Mandrake slams Duckett down with all of his might! Duckett’s back connects with the extended backrest of the steel chair, and it crumbles on impact! Duckett’s arm begins twitching as he lies in a mangled heap atop the remnants of the steel chair. Mandrake slowly stands as the boos come from the rafters. A hint of a smile creeps onto his face, but it quickly vanishes as he snaps his head in the direction of 40 oz. This time, the smile is unmistakeable.]

Cliff Anderson:: Finally! Here comes security, but I think it’s a minute too late!

[Security rushes the ring, and Mandrake makes his exit to the outside. Six uniformed security guards check on the condition of Duckett, and to a lesser extent, 40 oz. While they’re checking on the pair of men, they don’t even notice Mandrake slithering back into the ring with another steel chair in hand. However, they begin taking notice when the daredevil begins bringing the chair down across the back of their heads. A few moments later there are six limp uniformed bodies scattered around the ringside area. Unfolding the steel chair, he kicks Duckett’s motionless body out of the way and sets up the chair in the center of the ring.]

Cliff Anderson:: Oh, God! Now it’s 40 oz’s turn. This man is out of control. Cormier needs to do something about this, or he’s not gonna have any superstars left!

[The fans continue booing, and some even toss a few articles of trash into the ring. 40 oz begins to stir as Mandrake lifts him by the neck. Suddenly, “Paint it Black” by the Rolling Stones rips across the arena, and the fans erupt. Mandrake’s head jerks in the direction of the entrance as he drops 40 oz to the mat. 40 oz slowly rolls out of the ring and stumbles to the backstage area, but the Kill Devil Hills Daredevil is no longer concerned with him. His attention is focused solely on the entrance area as he awaits his longtime nemesis, Billy Sadistic.]

Cliff Anderson:: That’s the Phenom’s music! Security couldn’t stop Mandrake. Maybe Sadistic can!

[The music continues to play as Mandrake stands in the ring waiting. The fans cheers begin to fade away as the music stops abruptly. Billy Sadistic is nowhere to be found. The boos return as Mandrake simply grins in the ring.]

J.J. Jackson:: Dat was fu{bleep}ed up…
Standard Match:
Donny J. McNasty vs. The False Marquis
Donny J. McNasty

6'2"
255 lbs.
Brawler
1/2/0
The False Marquis

6'2"
268 lbs.
Powerhouse
0/1/0
[The fans are still a bit riled up from the Mandrake incident and turn their wrath to the False Marquis…the Mad Marquis’ duplicate. Unfortunately, he looks nothing like the Mad Marquis. He’s considerably larger, his nose is straight, and he’s in possession of both of his ears. However, he still attempts to play the part, albeit poorly, while the crowd boos him. Suddenly, the familiar chant starts up. Well, it’s familiar in Kentucky, anyhow.]

Crowd:: SWF! SWF! SWF!

Cliff Anderson:: There’s the first SWF chant of the night, but I assure you it won’t be the last.

[McNasty’s music hits, and the place let’s out a wave of cheers for the SWF loyalist. McNasty comes out with a black cooler in hand, and one can only assume that there are a few cold brews inside. However, he seems in a bad mood, and rather than interact with the fans, he instead heads straight for the ring, dropping off the cooler at ringside. A flurry of McNasty punches to the imposter’s head leaves referee Paige no choice but to start the match. The fans are eating it up.]

Cliff Anderson:: Everybody saw what the False Marquis did to McNasty last week. He humiliated him! McNasty’s here to pick up the receipt!

Oxford Flanigan:: What ever happened to Marquis de Fistopholes? He was the only chap around here with dignity and class, I must say.

J.J. Jackson:: I think he dead or sumthin’, bro…

[McNasty pummels the Marquis into the corner, but his offensive is cut short when the imposter sneaks in a knee to Donny’s groin. McNasty drops to his knees, allowing the False Marquis to unleash a bland combination of weak looking punches and headbutts. The fraud runs to the ropes to attempt a running…something, but McNasty nearly decapitates him with the Queen Killer., causing the fans to erupt! Rather than go for the cover, McNasty lifts him off the ground and whips him into the ropes, planting him with the Final Destination! This time, McNasty makes the cover. 1…2…3! The crowd erupts as McNasty hops up to his feet to celebrate…]
Services Rendered
[…but unfortunately, he’s clobbered from behind by an absolute giant of a man. The giant man is accompanied by a short, plump Mexican with a thick mustache and a sombrero. The man dwarfs McNasty in size.]

Cliff Anderson:: That…that man, if you can call him that, is enormous! He makes McNasty look like a child, and McNasty’s a good-sized guy. This giant looks to be about as big as Machine, which is simply amazing!

[The behemoth continues pummeling McNasty with giant, clubbing blows, knocking the King of Hardcore silly. The fat Latin man, better known as Sancho Panza, continues to direct the monster in his attack on McNasty. Finally, Sancho calls for the end, and the Giant hoists McNasty up into the air in a crucifix position before planting him with the Crucifix Faceslam! McNasty is left motionless on the mat as the Outlawz run out from the back to a roar from the crowd!]

Cliff Anderson:: The cavalry has arrived, and the giant and his fat little buddy are takin’ the high road!

[Sancho pulls his giant from the ring and the two retreat to the back. Unfortunately for the False Marquis, he’s not able to escape from the ring, and he falls victim to the Outlawz. Soapdish nails the phony with the Ass, followed by a Mike Edwards Five Star Frog Splash. The Outlawz hover over the beaten Marquis and dish out a few crotch chops before helping the Nomad to his feet. The trio of SWF stars head to the back to a nice ovation from the fans.]

Cliff Anderson:: Well, folks, it looks like the False Marquis has just wet himself…and on that note, we must take a commercial break. Don’t touch that dial!
Commercial Break
[In a commercial designed to look like a making-of, "Son of a Gun" Josh McCool is in front of the camera, dressed as George Washington.]

Josh McCool:: Come to the Borgata Hotel Casino and Spa for a chance at one million dollars!

[The camera switches to another shot, this one showing McCool in a ridiculous sombrero and poncho. The director yells, "Action!"]

Josh McCool:: ¡Venga al Casino del Hotel de Borgata y el Balneario para una oportunidad en un millones de dólares!

[Now we see McCool in a beret and French clothing.]

Josh McCool:: Venir au Casino d'Hôtel de Borgata et à la Station thermale pour un hasard à un million de dollars!

[Next, a white apron and chef's hat with a large fake Italian mustache.]

Josh McCool:: Venire al Casinò di Hotel di Borgata ed a Spa per una probabilitá a uni dollari di milione!

[At the next change, McCool is in lederhosen and pigtails!]

Josh McCool:: Kommen Sie zum Borgata Hotel und...da{bleep}t, this is too far!

[He stomps off camera.]
A Damn Fine Interview
Cliff Anderson:: Welcome back everybody. Up next, Josh McCool defends his Television Championship…

Oxford Flanigan:: …WHRO Television Championship…

Cliff Anderson:: …against Machine. But first, Reece Williams is standing by backstage with the champ. Take it away Reece.

[The shot switches to the backstage area where the lovely Reece Williams is holding a microphone up to her luscious lips while the WHRO Television Champion, Josh McCool stands beside her. He’s got his championship belt draped over his massive, tattooed shoulder.]

Reece Williams:: Josh, to what do you credit your amazing win streak, which now stands at sixteen?

Josh McCool:: Let me tell ya something, Reece. There's more to my domination of the AWA than just incredible talent and hard work, although I am known to possess an abundance of both. No, more than that it is just plain mental toughness, just knowing that no matter what happens, I WILL NOT LOSE. All the "elite" in the AWA have fine talent, but come one or come all, I will beat them. I refuse to lose.

Reece Williams:: Much has been made of your challenge to James Nightbane. Any comment on the stipulations for the second match of your best-of-three at Symphony of Destruction?

Josh McCool:: Not now Reece. I want Nightbane to hear it personally. But don't you worry. At Symphony of Destruction, I will not only break Nightbane physically, I will also humiliate him in front of thousands and thousands of fans. I will prove that not only am I a physical powerhouse, I can also hang with the best technical wrestlers in the game!

Reece Williams:: Speaking of physical powerhouses, you face Machine tonight. Not only have you promised a victory over the behemoth, you've guaranteed that you will deliver the WMD. Do you stand by your remarks?

Josh McCool:: You're d{bleep} right I do, Reece! Tonight, Nightbane's giant will be cut down to size. And at Symphony of Destruction, it will be Nightbane's turn.

Reece Williams:: Thanks, Josh. Any other comments?

Josh McCool:: Yeah, I’d like to give a quick shout to my boy Sadistic who’s at home healin’ some injuries right now. I know you’ve got my back, and I want you to know that I’ve got yours also.

[McCool walks out of sight as the shot returns to the ringside area.]

Cliff Anderson:: It’s no secret that Josh McCool and Billy Sadistic are good friends both inside and outside the ring. Billy Sadistic was one of the veterans that took McCool under his wing, if you will, when McCool was still a rookie. McCool’s far from a rookie now, and he’s gonna be defending his title here in a few short moments.
Standard Match: Fifteen Minute Time Limit:
Josh McCool vs. Machine
WHRO Television Championship
Josh McCool

6'9"
287 lbs.
Powerhouse
16/0/0
Machine

7'5"
432 lbs.
Powerhouse
6/10/0
[Machine makes his way down to the ring, accompanied by his tag team partner, James Nightbane. The crowd boos both men, but the boos are mostly directed at the Dark One. Machine steps over the top rope and waits in the ring, adjusting his gloves as Nightbane walks around the ringside area. McCool’s music hits, and the fans come to their feet. The S.O.B. bounds out from the back with his title draped over his shoulder and makes his way down to the ring. He slaps a few hands on the way down and enters the ring. He hands his title over to referee Perry Daton, and the match is underway.]

Oxford Flanigan:: That Son of a Gun is a big lad, but he looks like a side order of fish n’ chips standing next to Machine.

Cliff Anderson:: You’re a do{bleep}bag. You got those over in England?

[The match begins and the timer slowly begins winding down. The two bulls go at it, but Machine overpowers the smaller man. Machine drives him back into the corner and begins working him over with repeated elbows to the face. Machine continues to dominate McCool, and McCool drops to the mat and rolls to the outside to catch a breather. Machine attempts to follow him, but Daton holds him back. With the referee distracted, Nightbane nails McCool from behind with a clothesline. Nightbane follows up with an Irish whip into the ringpost, then a dozen boots to the ribs. The crowd boos Nightbane’s dastardly deeds as the referee conveniently turns around a second too late. McCool is hurting in a bad way as he struggles to make it back into the ring, barely beating Daton’s mandatory ten-count.]

Cliff Anderson:: If you ask me, this is more like a handicap match. Nightbane just beat the snot out of the champ on the outside.

[Machine continues the onslaught inside the ring, battering McCool from pillar to post. Jolly Roger announces the passing of the ten-minute mark as Machine chokes McCool in the corner with his massive boot. Machine whips McCool into the ropes and goes for a big boot. McCool ducks the boot, rebounds off the far side, and drills Machine with the Facelift! Machine only stumbles back a few steps, dazed. Again, McCool takes to the ropes and hammers Machine with the Facelift, and again Machine stumbles back a few steps. Looking a bit flustered, McCool hits the ropes hard this time and swings with all his might, connecting with a Facelift that sends Machine crashing to the mat. The fans cheer as McCool drops to his knees and makes the cover.]

Cliff Anderson:: Look at this! Nightbane is up on the ring apron now!

Oxford Flanigan:: He sure is.

[Distracted, the referee tries to get the Dark One off the ring apron rather than count Machine’s shoulders down. McCool sees what’s happening, nonchalantly makes his way over towards Nightbane, and drills him with a big right hand, sending him off the ring apron into the steel guardrail. The fans erupt as Machine sits up and climbs to his feet. The referee is still preoccupied with Nightbane, allowing McCool the opportunity to wind up and kick a field goal with Machine’s testicles. The Giant German hunches forward, and McCool sets him up for a powerbomb. The fans begin to buzz.]

Cliff Anderson:: You’re not telling me… I think McCool’s actually gonna try to WMD the big man. There’s no way…

[Unfortunately, McCool doesn’t even get the chance to hit the Weapon of Mass Destruction because he’s mauled from behind by Nightbane. The referee calls for the bell Nightbane assaults McCool with a steel chair. After getting in a pair of good shots to the back, Nightbane plants McCool with Darkness Falls on the steel chair, leaving him down and out in the center of the ring. A small pool of blood can be seen forming beneath McCool’s head, but the camera quickly cuts away to Nightbane and Machine retreating back up the ramp.]

Cliff Anderson:: Leave it to Nightbane to ruin an entertaining match. I think McCool had a good chance at powerbombing the big German.

Oxford Flanigan:: Oh Clifffooooord… I disagree!
Issuing an Open Challenge
[Just as McCool has about made his way to the backstage area, “I Believe in a Thing Called Love” by the Darkness hits, and out walks the former Television Champion, Brian Zane. Zane struts past McCool, giving him a look of disgust on the way. Zane’s smirk slowly creeps onto his face as he climbs into the ring and asks for a microphone.]

Cliff Anderson:: That’s odd. If Zane’s coming out here for an interview, why’s he in full wrestling gear?

[A member of the ring crew hands Zane a mic as the music cuts out. Zane flexes his bicep a few times before speaking.]

Brian Zane:: Wow. There’s a Television Champion that you can be proud of…not!

[The crowd begins booing Brian Zane, but he doesn’t care. He clears his throat and starts in on his promo.]

Brian Zane:: Surprise, surprise, surprise! A lot of you thought that you would go a week without Brian Zane gracing you with his presence. Well if you were one of those people, I'd like you to wear aluminum foil so we know who you are! You know, I've had some time to think about last week's match with Josh McCool. Do I think he's a good competitor? Yes. Do I think he truly deserved to win my Television Title? H{bleep} no! For all the power moves he can do, and for all the wins he's had in the AWA, Josh McCool is nothing more than hype! And one day, I will get my return match against him for my title!

[Zane’s little rant is met with dissatisfaction from the crowd.]

Brian Zane:: But I know that McCool would never willingly give me a rematch for the belt anytime soon. No way. That's why I've decided to earn my shot. That's right, Brian Zane is going to show everyone that I've never had anything handed to me in my career, and that I've earned every bit of my success! So I'm issuing an open challenge to anyone in the back who thinks they have what it takes to beat perfection! Come on down, people!

Cliff Anderson:: I don’t get it? Zane’s trying to prove himself by issuing an open challenge?

[Rosco Pico Train quickly emerges from the back to a small reaction from the fans. He jogs down to the ring and slides in.]
Standard Match:
Brian Zane vs. Rosco Pico Train
Brian Zane

6'2"
225 lbs.
Grappler
6/4/0
Rosco Pico Train

6'4"
201 lbs.
Submission Grappler
0/7/0
Cliff Anderson:: Ha. I guess we’ve got ourselves an impromptu match here tonight on Riptide. Rosco Pico Train has answered Zane’s challenge. I know Rosco quite well. We used to tour the States together a few years back, and he’s got a few submission holds up his sleeve that Brian Zane had better look out for.

[Jimmy Jack Paige comes down to officiate the match and he calls for the bell. Zane goes right after Rosco, taking him down with a textbook double-leg takedown. After working his way up from the guard position into the mount, Zane locks onto Rosco’s arm and hooks in a painful looking submission hold. Seconds later Rosco is forced to tap out from the pain.]

Cliff Anderson:: Folks, he calls that the Zane Vice, and as you could tell from the look on my old friend’s face, it’s very painful.

Oxford Flanigan:: Judging by my timepiece here, that match took exactly…thirty-three seconds.

[Rosco rolls out of the ring clutching his arm in pain as Zane grabs the microphone again. He hasn’t even broken a sweat.]

Brian Zane:: Was that it? Is that the best that you've got? Come on, I know that there are people who can put up more of a fight than that! Tell you what, that match was so easy, I'll take another challenger right now!

[As Rosco disappears behind the curtain, Grendel emerges from the back. The big man slowly walks down to the ring as Zane smiles.]
Standard Match:
Brian Zane vs. Grendel
Brian Zane

6'2"
225 lbs.
Grappler
7/4/0
Grendel

6'10"
319 lbs.
Powerhouse
0/8/1
Cliff Anderson:: Brian Zane may have bitten off more than he can chew this time. Grendel’s a pretty big fella.

[Grendel climbs into the ring, but Zane is all over him before Paige can call for the bell. Grendel tries to mount an offense, but Zane scores with a rake to the eyes, followed by a chopblock, taking Grendel off his feet. Zane stomps away on him for a short while before going to work on the arm. After a few armbars, Zane locks in the Zane Vice. Grendel tries to power out of the move, but Zane is tenacious. With nowhere left to turn, Grendel finally taps out. Zane releases the hold as Grendel rolls to the outside cradling his damaged limb. Once again, Zane grabs the microphone.]

Brian Zane:: McCool, I know you're watching. Do you see who you're messing with? Do you see how easy that was for me? I can do that to anyone in the back, all night long! Now I'm getting sick of this lack of competition! As a matter of fact, I’ve got nothing more to prove! I’ve just dismantled two of the AWA’s top stars in less than three minutes. I think that speaks for itself. I think you eunuchs have seen enough of Brian Zane for one night.

[With that, Zane drops the microphone and begins climbing through the ropes. Suddenly, Rich Verboncour zooms through the curtain and sprints down the aisle right at Brian Zane. Zane sees him coming and jumps off the ring apron with a big right hand. Verboncour returns fire with a right hand of his own. The two men begin trading blows in the aisle as the crowd cheers the fight on. Zane attempts to whip the One Night Stand into the guardrail, but Verboncour reverses, sending Zane into the sea of fans. Verboncour charges Zane and hits him with a suicide dive over the guardrail. Fans scatter in all directions as the two men continue brawling through the crowd.]

Cliff Anderson:: Well…I’d say that’s a challenge, alright.
The Doctor's Office
Guests: Super Bastardo Bros.
Cliff Anderson:: Well, loyal viewers, tonight’s edition of the Doctor’s Office should be entertaining to say the least. Tonight, the good doctor’s guests will be Loki and Plaz Bastardo.

[The camera fades in on the typical setting for the Doctor’s Office, but this week things are a little different. Suddenly, a crazy remix of “Takin’ Care of Business” by Bachman Turner Overdrive blares over the arena speaker system, and out from behind the curtain that separates the entrance way from the arena strut the Professionals with their Tag Team Championship belts placed proudly around their well educated waists. They make their way down to the ring, soaking in the cheers from their fans, then settle down to business as Dr. Payne grabs the mic and begins speaking.]

Dr. Payne:: Ladies and geni{bleep}s, welcome...to the Doctor's Office!

[The crowd laughs at the good doctor’s trademark line, then settle down as the segment begins.]

Dr. Payne:: Now as most of you know, tonight’s guests have a long and storied history in the AWA. They are considered by many to be the greatest tag team to ever compete in the original AWA, holding the Tag Team Championships on multiple occasions and developing a reputation as two of the fiercest men to ever lace up the boots. But rather than tell you how great they are, the good doctor would rather show you. So tonight, for the first time ever, I would like to introduce to you a new feature here on the Doctor’s Office. I give you…Va{bleep}al Vision!

[Margarita, Dr. Payne’s personal masseuse, shuffles down to ringside. She pushes a cart in front of her that carries a small, ancient looking television set and an old VCR. She hefts both items into the ring and proceeds to set them up on the table next to Dr. Payne’s medical bag. She then runs a long extension cord to an outlet next to the ring and the television slowly comes to life.]

Dr. Payne:: Thank you, Margarita. You see, my partner, Mr. Stevenson, and I put our heads together and came up with a new innovation for the Doctor’s Office, and that innovation is VAG{bleep}AL VISION! Yes, here it is, the finest black and white television set money can buy! Look at her. Bask in her black and white warmth. It just makes you feel happy to be alive, doesn’t it?! But I digress. Allen, would you please insert the tape of tonight’s guests into that deluxe VCR?

[Allen Stevenson walks over to the television and VCR and inserts a VHS tape. Once inserted, the tape begins to play a highlight reel of Loki and Plaz Bastardo. The footage is from the original AWA, showing them fighting against the likes of Jerry Verboncour and Billy Suggs, Jingles and Jigsaw, and Steve Zapf and Joe LaBracio.It shows the Bastardos proudly wearing the Tag Team Championship. But finally, the last image of them is of the Bastardo Brothers helping Richard Cormier from last week’s Riptide show.]

Dr. Payne:: Hmmmm…that certainly is interesting, isn’t it Allen?

Allen Stevenson:: Well, it’s no Econometrics…but it’ll suffice.

Dr. Payne:: I’m not sure what that is, but for what it’s worth, I give you the Super Bastardo Bros.!

[“Name of the Game” by Crystal Method starts up, and the fans begin booing. The Professionals playfully try to hush the crowd, but to no avail. Plaz Bastardo steps out from the back with a serious look on his face. Behind him appears his younger brother, the eccentric Loki Bastardo. Suddenly, the fans begin hurling stuff at them…]

Cliff Anderson:: What’s that the fans are hurling at the Bastardos? I can’t tell from here.

Oxford Flanigan:: It looks like they’re throwing bloody…bloody… It looks like they’re throwing bloody insults at them! How rude!

[The Bastardos pay no heed to the fans’ insults and continue down to the ring. Loki appears freshly oiled up, complete with slicked back hair and mustache. The Bastardos enter the Doctor’s Office.]

Dr. Payne:: Loki, Plaz, welcome to the Doctor’s Office. Now, the question on everybody’s mind regarding you two gentlemen is this: Have you joined Richard Cormier? Are you now in bed with the devil himself? And trust me, I know something about being in bed with the devil because I’m a gynecologist. A WRESTLING GYNECOLOGIST!

Plaz Bastardo:: Okay, first off, let me say that whatever you do in bed with anyone is your business. If that's what WRESTLING gynecologists do in their spare time, that's totally up to you. I don't want to hear anything about that. I'm here to talk about the only thing that really matters to me right now, and that just happens to be the belt around your waist…

[Loki butts in, interrupting his older brother.]

Loki Bastardo:: Are you really a gynecologist? You must really be desperate for some action to go to school for like eight years just get a little touchy-feely with three hundred pound women with that "not-so-fresh feeling."

Plaz Bastardo:: Loki! Could we focus for just a second here? I was just about to tell the good doctor here about the Super Bastardo Bros. agenda. I'm sorry, Doc, Loki gets carried away sometimes. Let's just move this along because I've got better things to do right now.

Dr. Payne:: Whoa. Cool it there, Spaz. Now Loki, you have shown in the past that you have a, uh, unique fascination with baby oil, so I ask, why? I mean honestly, if we got you and the Mad Marquis in the ring together, between all your oil and him touching himself, it would be bad news. Couldn’t you just, like, lay off the oil a little bit?

[Stevenson nods his head in agreement.]

Loki Bastardo:: The Marquis ain't got nothing on me, I just hope he at least uses lotion. Touching one's self without proper lubrication can cause severe chaffing.

Plaz Bastardo:: Shut up, Loki! Dr. Payne, I don't know you very well. I mean, for all I know you may be a great gynecologist...

[Loki again interrupts.]

Loki Bastardo:: The fat, old lady working the concession stand said you are the best!

Plaz Bastardo:: That was actually pretty funny Loki, but shut up. Now Dr. Payne, you may even be a great wrestler...

[Loki interjects again, but this time under his breath.]

Loki Bastardo:: Pffft…I doubt it…

Plaz Bastardo:: …but I have to say your interviewing skills are terrible. Why anyone would allow you and Mr.Stevenson here to waste my time with this pathetic excuse for an interview is beyond me. Now are you going to ask us an important question, or are you going to keep worrying about who you're in bed with and Loki and Marquis' hobbies?

Dr. Payne:: You want an important question? How about a personal question? Why come back to the AWA? It seemed that you had proven everything you needed to during your first run with the promotion. Why come back and put your legacy at risk, especially with The Professionals as the Tag Team Champions?

Plaz Bastardo:: I thought you might ask something like that. Let me first just say that in no way is our "legacy" at risk. I mean, if you two are the cream of the crop in the AWA tag team division, then I think our legacy is in no danger of being tarnished in any way. As for the reason as to why we came back, I think that's pretty obvious. We are here for one reason, and I think you know what that reason is, Doc.

Loki Bastardo:: Come on, Doc, you should know something about why we're here. I mean, you are a "wrestling gynecologist!" Geez, Magnutso!

[Plaz, Payne, and Stevenson all look confused.]

Plaz Bastardo:: Did you just call Dr. Payne "Magnutso"?

Loki Bastardo:: Yeah. Why?

Plaz Bastardo:: Nevermind… Any more stupid questions before Loki has to oil up again? He can only go for so long without a fresh coat.

Loki Bastardo:: That's okay, Plaz. I've got some good ‘ol J & J with me.

[Loki pulls a little bottle of baby oil out of his trunks and begins applying a thick coat to his chest and gradually works his way down. Stevenson and Payne look shocked at the grotesque movies of Loki Bastardo. The crowd seems slightly amused.]

Dr. Payne:: You need to flip the "off" switch on your little weirdo there, ‘cause he’s creepin’ me and Al out.

[Plaz just shrugs as Loki continues slathering himself up.]

Dr. Payne:: Now I know, Mr. and Mrs. Bastardo, that in your day you were pretty good. But geni{bleep}s, it isn’t your day anymore. And while you may have been the best four years ago, today, we’re the best. The Professionals are the greatest tag team in the AWA. Period. And I think we owe you a bit of payback for what you did to our set here three weeks ago, so what do you say boys? Are you game for a little Professional Punishment?

[Stevenson removes his expensive wristwatch as Payne assumes a fighting stance.]

Loki Bastardo:: Oh, you're still upset about the set incident. I'm sorry. Here, this should just about cover the damage.

[Loki pulls a very oily five dollar bill out from the crotch of his trunks and tries to hand it to Allen Stevenson. The bill is dripping with goo, and Stevenson wants nothing to do with it.]

Plaz Bastardo:: I don't know, Loki, that may be too much. I tell you what, Doc, how about we don't hit you two with the El-Blow Job right now, like we were originally going to do, and you can consider us even?

Loki Bastardo:: What's up, Doc?

[The microphones drop to the canvas with thuds as the four men come nose-to-nose. Suddenly, a pair of figures come out from the back and begin walking down towards the ring.]

J.J. Jackson:: Dat’s dem Outlawz? What’s they doin’ out herre?

Cliff Anderson:: Payback?

Mike Edwards:: Now, now. You wouldn’t be talkin’ ‘bout them Tag Team Championships without us, now would you? I think it’s time we kick this shiz-nit Outlaw style!

[Edwards drops the mic as he and Soapdish slide into the ring. A six-man brawl ensues as the Outlawz, the Bastardos, and the Professionals tear down the Doctor’s Office. Edwards and Payne tackle one another outside of the ring and brawl up the aisle. They’re followed by Plaz and Soapdish, who are pummeling each other with rights and lefts. Stevenson and Loki are the last to leave the ring. A few minutes later and all six men have disappeared to the backstage area. The Tag Team Championships are laying in the center of the ring amongst the wreckage. The camera zooms in on the belts.]

Cliff Anderson:: Fans, don’t go away. We’ve gotta take a quick commercial break.
Commercial Break
[The AWA logo rolls across the screen. When the logo stops scrolling we see James Nightbane standing by a computer. Nightbane’s usually unkempt hair is pulled back into a small ponytail, his face doesn't seem as pale, and he has an uncharacteristic smile on his face. He is also wearing a three piece suit. The computer to the side of him is a new "HQ Rotunda" desktop as can be assumed by the scrolling screen saver. Nightbane looks a little nervous and misses his cue. From behind the camera a voice shouts:]

Voice:: ACTION, DA{bleep}IT!

[Nightbane's smile weakens and he begins.]

James Nightbane:: Ummm...hello. My name is James Nightbane, superstar of the AWA, and I'm here to tell you that the AWA and HQ Computers have inked a sponsorship deal. I don't usually use a computer, so I was a strange choice for the first superstar to do this commercial… BUT, HQ gave me a free computer to try out and I...I...um...

[The same voice from behind the camera shouts.]

Voice:: DA{bleep}IT, JIMMY, YOU LOVE IT! C'MON!

James Nightbane:: I love it. But before I leave, remember: NO NAUGHTY PICTURES ON YOUR HQ ROTUNDA! That’s right. The HQ even has a filter for your children so they can't look at porn.

[Nightbane leans in closer to the camera and whispers.]

James Nightbane::I bet if you kids find Plaz and Loki, they can disable the filter for you.

[Nightbane snickers as the voice screams again.]

Voice:: DA{bleep}IT, JIMMY, THAT’S NOT IN THE SCRIPT! CUT!

[The commercial fades to black with the HQ logo and the AWA logo scrolling across the screen. A friendly voiceover begins.]

Voiceover:: HQ. It’s happiness in a bright, white, shiny, metallic, computer-like box.
Last Minute Decision
[Riptide returns to a shot of the backstage area. Richard Cormier is the first person that appears on-screen, drawing a large collection of boos from the Kentucky crowd. As the camera pans out, we find the Atlantic Champion, Kris Kartier, his tag team partner, Revilation, and the AWA Heavyweight Champion, Haze. Kris Kartier has really cleaned up his act, wearing a sharp suit and sporting a cleancut hairstyle with a clean-shaven face. Haze has his new Heavyweight Championship belt hanging from his shoulder, replacing the old Heavyweight Championship belt. The light gleams off the shiny, gold-plated metal.]

Richard Cormier:: Boys…I’ve got some bad news. Kartier’s opponent…that big, dumb hillbilly…he wasn’t able to make it tonight. Let’s just say somebody sabotaged his tractor…

[The four men begin laughing.]

Richard Cormier:: But don’t worry, Kris, I know you wanted to defend that title, so I’ve found you a suitable replacement. Now I know you’re still sore from last week, but you’ve gotta buck up, because this guys one of the toughest guys in the AWA today. Tonight, you’re gonna be facing Willis Clayton!

[The other three men give a mock gasp.]

Richard Cormier:: Kartier shouldn’t have any problems there. Revilation, I don’t care who Dean brings out tonight. I don’t care if it’s Soapdish. I don’t care if it’s Edwards. And I don’t care if it’s Mikey Wryght. You’re gonna win that match and shut Dean’s mouth for good.

[Revilation slowly nods his head as Cormier turns his attention to the Heavyweight Champion.]

Richard Cormier:: And Haze, tonight you’ve got that sideshow reject, James Nightbane. That guys not even in your league. He got lucky, plain and simply. And after you hand him his a{bleep} tonight, he’ll return to the tag team division with that big retard where he belongs.

[All four men begin laughing as they walk off-screen. The shot returns to the inside of the arena.]
Standard Match:
Kris Kartier vs. Willis Clayton
Atlantic Championship
Kris Kartier

6'1"
236 lbs.
Extremist
8/9/0
Willis Clayton

6'2"
243 lbs.
Mat Technician
0/4/1
[Willis Clayton enters to the ring to a very slight reaction and awaits the Atlantic Champion. Kartier walks out with his belt in one hand and his barbed-wire Singapore cane in the other. The fans boo as the champion makes his way down to the ring. Souled Out leaves his weapon in the corner and hands the belt to the referee. The official starts the match, and Kartier immediately takes control on Clayton with a barrage of rights and lefts. Clayton tries to cover up, but Kartier pummels him back into the corner. Kartier Irish whips Willis across the ring into the other corner, then follows up with a charging clothesline. However, the clothesline never connects as Clayton lands a well-placed boot to the chin of Kartier. Clayton tries to whip Kartier into the opposite corner, but Kartier reverses, sending Clayton chest-first into the corner with a sickening thud. Clayton staggers out of the corner backwards in a daze, and that’s all the opportunity Kartier needs to lock in the Karta-Hajime. Seconds later the match is over, and the referee awards Kartier the victory via submission.]

Cliff Anderson:: Well, that sure didn’t take very long.

Oxford Flanigan:: That submission hold of his is absolutely amazing.
Hardcore Match:
Revilation vs. Mystery Opponent
Revilation

6'2"
260 lbs.
Extremist
5/10/0
Mystery Opponent

???
???
???
--/--/--
[Kris Kartier is still in the ring from the last bout, and he remains there as his tag team partner makes his way out. Richard Cormier accompanies his man down to the ring as the fans boo. They enter the ring and congratulate Kartier on his big win only moments ago. Revilation turns around as he and Kartier gaze at the entrance awaiting the arrival of Dean’s mystery man.]

Cliff Anderson:: I wonder who’s gonna be taking Dean’s place in this match…

["Bawitdaba" by Kid rock begins playing as the letters "S...W...F" appear on the big screen, followed by all of the SWF highlights. The crowd goes crazy and the chants begin…]

Crowd:: SWF! SWF! SWF!

[…but the entrance remains vacant. Finally, as the chants begin to die down, a foot pokes through the curtain…followed by the rest of the leg and Bryant Dean in a wheelchair. The crowd erupts and begins chanting even louder. Dean soaks up the atmosphere for a moment before pulling out a microphone and signaling for the crowd to quiet down.]

Bryant Dean:: I guess everyone heard the bad news earlier this week. I am in absolutely no condition for this match thanks to Revilation’s little sneak attack last week.

[Richard Cormier jumps on a microphone and begins pointing up the aisle at Dean.]

Richard Cormier:: That's right! And since you can't go, I have to call this match in Revilation's favor by default! You lose. There is no match at Symphony of Destruction and there is no more SWF in the AWA!

[The fans boo loudly, displaying their displeasure with Cormier's decision. Dean looks disappointed but not completely heartbroken.]

Bryant Dean:: You know what, Dick, I thought you might take that position, so I’ve found a little replacement for me tonight. I searched high and low for the perfect replacement, and finally came across someone with a score to settle with you. Someone else that bleeds the black and blue.

Richard Cormier:: Let me guess. You got Roch? Or did you get Sam Carnage? Or maybe Baby Jus? The Motley Crew? It doesn't matter because none of them could hold their own here!

[The crowd boos at Cormier methodically running down some of the biggest names in the SWF's history...and Baby Jus and Motley Crew on top of that!]

Bryant Dean:: No, I got someone else that you screwed over a long time ago. Someone else, just like me, that saw their hopes of returning dashed and their career cut short in an AWA ring. I got...

[Before Dean can finish his last sentence, Griffin Youngblood is in the ring and has clocked Richard Cormier in the back of the head, knocking him out flat in the ring. The crowd is going nuts! Youngblood doesn't have much time to celebrate, though, because RevilATION has quickly seen what is going on and goes right for Griffin. The referee quickly calls for the bell and the match begins.]

Cliff Anderson:: Griffin Youngblood is back in the AWA! Or should I say SWF? All I know is that the Insurance Policy is doing a number on him in the ring!

[Kartier and Revilation go after Griffin and back him into a corner. Dean begins wheeling down to the ring as a shaken-up Cormier rolls to the outside. Referee Mitch Horton tries to gain some order, but there’s not much he can do seeing as how it’s a hardcore match. Dean arrives at ringside as Kartier and Revilation pummel Youngblood into the mat. Mikey Wryght suddenly sprints out from the back and slides into the ring to even the odds. The fans erupt! Showtime catches Kartier with a clothesline that carries both men over the top rope. The two men begin brawling on the outside of the ring as Cormier slowly regains his senses. The AWA Owner spots Dean on the other side of the ring and slowly stalks over towards him. Meanwhile, Youngblood has started making a comeback in the ring, culminating with a high-arching belly-to-back suplex that folds Revilation like an accordion.]

Cliff Anderson:: Good grief. It looked like Revilation just broke his neck on that one.

[Dean tries to wheel away from Cormier, but it’s too late. Cormier grabs the wheelchair and begins whispering into the SWF Owner’s ear. Then, in one quick movement, Cormier tips the wheelchair over, causing Dean to spill onto the floor. The boos in the Owensboro Sports Center are deafening. Griffin sees what’s going on and comes to Dean’s aid, but Bryant waves him back into the ring.]

Cliff Anderson:: Richard Cormier is a sick, sick man.

[Griffin goes back to work on Revilation in the ring as Cormier grabs a steel chair. He approaches Dean, who is attempting to pull himself back up into the wheelchair, and raises the chair. In the ring, Griffin bounces off the ropes to charge Revilation, but Cormier turns in one quick motion and nails Griffin in the back with the chair. Griffin stumbles forward right into the Sacrifyce. Revilation plants Griffin right in the middle of the ring, but as he does so, Dean slowly stands on the outside of the ring. The fans begin cheering as Dean steps forward towards Cormier, rips the chair out of his hand, and shoves him to the ground. The fans are going psycho as Dean slides into the ring while the Revilation covers Griffin. 1…2…a vile chairshot to the back of Revilation breaks up the count.]

Cliff Anderson:: Dean can walk!

Oxford Flanigan:: What amazing recuperative abilities…

[Richard Cormier grabs Dean by the legs and pulls him out of the ring. Revilation and Griffin are both down in the ring as the referee begins his ten-count. Neither man seems to be conscious. Richard Cormier shoves Dean into the ringpost on the outside of the ring, causing the SWF Owner to drop to his knees. The brawl between Kartier and Wryght is still going on the opposite side of the ring. Kartier sends Wryght crashing into the ring steps, then slides into the ring as Griffin Youngblood slowly begins to stand. Kartier catches him with a boot to the mid-section, followed by the Last Serenade. It’s total pandemonium as Kartier rolls Revilation onto Griffin and exits the ring. The referee has no choice but to make the count. 1…2…3! The fans boo, but the boos turn to cheers as Dean levels Cormier on the outside with the chair, then dives into the ring.]

Cliff Anderson:: Revilation has stolen a victory from Griffin Youngblood here tonight, but Bryant Dean ain’t done yet!

Crowd:: SWF! SWF! SWF!

[Dean cracks Kartier across the back with the chair, sending him to the outside of the ring. Showtime is there to jump Kartier as Bryant turns the chair sideways and rams it into the stomach of Revilation. Griffin is back up as Dean shoves Revilation through the ropes to the outside. Griffin and Bryant follow him out.]

Bryant Dean:: Slam him into the post! Break his f{bleep}in’ back!

[The fans go crazy as Youngblood lifts Revilation and gets a running start, slamming Revilation’s back into the ringpost. Revilation writhes in agony on the ground as Showtime, Youngblood, and Dean escape through the crowd.]

Cliff Anderson:: Things are getting very, VERY personal between Cormier’s AWA and Dean’s SWF.
Interview: James Nightbane
[James Nightbane is seen standing in front of an AWA backdrop as Sheldon Grimes prepares to interview the Dark One. Grimes still has the scars on his face that he received at the hands of Kris Kartier over three years ago.]

Sheldon Grimes:: Mr. Nightbane, first I’d like to congratulate you on earning a shot at the AWA Heavyweight Champion here tonight. How do you feel?

James Nightbane:: What do you mean? I feel fine. I’m healthy, I got a good, solid four hours sleep last night, and Machine’s bowel movements are regular. Life couldn’t be better.

Sheldon Grimes:: Oh. [There’s an uncomfortable silence before Grimes proposes his next question.]

Sheldon Grimes:: Well…what do you think about your opponent, Haze? Is he a good champion or no?

James Nightbane:: Is he a good wrestler? Yes. Is he a good champion? I wouldn’t say that. It’s no secret that Haze and I don’t like one another. But that’s besides the point, because tonight I’m gonna go out there and take that brand spankin’ new AWA Championship, and not even you, Sheldon Grimes, can stop m…

[Without warning, Haze walks into the picture, halting Nightbane in mid-word. Haze his his shiny new belt slung over his shoulder and he’s got a smirk on his face. Suddenly, the champ begins cracking up.]

Haze:: I’m sorry, it’s just that every time I look at you, you crack me up. James Nightbane. Look at you. You’re pathetic. You’ve gotta be the biggest Haze ripoff in the history of ripoffs. The book. The brotherhood. What are you gonna do next, try to become the senator of Minnesota? Nightbane, you’d old news. Nightbane is out, and Haze is in!

James Nightbane:: Haze is in? The only thing Haze is in is a world of sh{bleep}! I’m gonna take you to h{bleep} and back out there tonight, and then I’m gonna take your title.

[Haze seems amused as he cracks a grin.]

Haze:: Nightbane, you’re not even in my league. Oh, you’ve tried. You’ve followed me from the HWA to the EWF to the AWA to the SWF, then back to the AWA. You’ve been following me for nearly ten years, but you’ve never been able to do the one thing that I’ve done on multiple occasions, and that’s win a heavyweight title!

James Nightbane::

Haze:: Yeah, I didn’t think you’d have anything to say to that. How many heavyweight championships have you won? Oh, what’s that? Zero? You just remember that the next time you gaze at this gorgeous championship with those sunken in little eyes of yours.

[Douglas Baggins is left speechless as Haze readjusts the title on his shoulder and marches out of view. Nightbane presses his lips together as he stares a hole through Haze’s back. The camera returns to ringside.]

Cliff Anderson:: Man, those were some very disrespectful words by Haze. I don’t think there’ll be any handshakes after tonight’s match.

Oxford Flanigan:: Disrespectful, but true. Nightbane isn’t in Haze’s league, and that’s a fact.

Standard Match:
Haze vs. James Nightbane
Heavyweight Championship
Haze

6'3"
225 lbs.
High Flyer
18/3/0
James Nightbane

6’6"
249 lbs.
Mat Technician
10/9/0
[Rob Zombie hits the arena and out walks the Dark One, accompanied by his big friend, Machine. The crowd is split on this one, oddly, as many boo, but many cheer.]

Cliff Anderson:: I don’t think some of these fans are cheering because they like Nightbane, I think they’re cheering because they wanna see him kick the snot out of Haze. The SWF fans have never forgiven Haze for aligning himself with Cormier and his AWA goons, and I can’t say that I blame them.

Oxford Flanigan:: These fans are nothing but a bunch of inbred heathans.

[Nightbane climbs into the ring as the Giant German takes his place at ringside to insure that no foul play takes place. The arena grows quiet, but the serenity doesn’t last long. Haze’s patriotic music hits, and out struts the Heavyweight Champion with his belt casually placed on his shoulder. The boos are deafening as the senator makes his way down the aisle. He attempts to slap a few hands, but the fans pull away from him in disgust. Haze pays them no mind and continues down to the ring.]

Cliff Anderson:: This should be a great match. Haze is one of the best high flyers in the world right now, and Nightbane is a technical wizard.

[Haze holds his belt above his head for all to see, earning him more of the same from the fans. Haze relinquishes the belt to the referee and the match begins. Haze and Nightbane lock up center stage and the fans begin cheering. Nightbane takes Haze to the mat and puts him through a series of holds. Haze finally escapes and slides out of the ring to catch his breath. The fans boo as Nightbane patiently waits for him back inside the ring.]

Cliff Anderson:: It looks like Haze is playing some mind games with Nightbane here.

[Haze slides back into the ring, and the two lock up again. Haze scores with a thumb to the eyes, then hits a go-behind waistlock. The referee checks on Nightbane, and as he’s doing so, Nightbane nails Haze in the groin with a mule kick. Haze drops to his knees as some of the fans begin laughing. Nightbane climbs on top of the champ and begins pummeling him with repeated right hands. Nightbane whips Haze into the ropes, but Haze responds by spearing Nightbane to the mat and repays him with a plethora of punches to the head.]

Cliff Anderson:: Well, the wrestling didn’t last long. Now they’re just pounding the tar out of each other.

J.J. Jackson:: On da streets, we call diss a gangbang…

[The brawl continues in the ring as Nightbane and Haze tear into one another. Revilation and Kris Kartier emerge from the back. Revilation is carrying a chair and Kartier is carrying his barbed-wire cane. Revilation is walking with a slight limp, and the pain in his back is apparent from the way he’s favoring it. The fans begin to boo as Machine spots them and moves around the ring, placing himself between the Insurance Policy and the ring. Revilation and Souled Out charge the ring, and Machine picks off Revilation with a big boot to the face. Haze whips Nightbane into the ropes, and Kartier takes the opportunity to crack Nightbane across the back with his kendo stick. Nightbane reaches for his back in pain as Haze boots him in the stomach and DDTs him to the mat. Haze covers Nightbane as Perry Daton makes the count.]

Cliff Anderson:: No! Not like this!

[The fans begin booing. 1…2…kickout! Nightbane gets his shoulder up, and the place goes crazy. Kartier looks on in disbelief. Kartier jumps up onto the ring apron to distract the referee as Haze goes to the corner and retrieves his new book, “64 Simple Steps to Save the World.” Nightbane slowly stands, and Haze is there waiting for him. The Dark One turns right into a sickening shot from Haze’s book. Nightbane crashes to the mat as Haze tosses the book back into the corner. Machine yanks Kartier down off the ring apron, and Daton turns around just in time to see Haze covering Nightbane. Haze arrogantly hooks the leg with one hand while counting the three along with the referee on the other. 1…2…!]

Cliff Anderson:: Nightbane got his foot on the ropes!

[Haze stands up, thinking he’s won, and raises his arms into the air. The referee explains that Nightbane’s foot was on the ropes, and Haze looks infuriated. Machine holds off the Insurance Policy on the outside as Nightbane slowly makes it back to his feet. Haze approaches the Dark One, but Nightbane connects with the End of Light out of nowhere! The place goes bananas as Nightbane collapses on top of Haze for the cover. 1…2…kickout! The place lets out a groan.]

Cliff Anderson:: We were so close to crowning a new champion! Neither of these men will stay down!

[Nightbane keeps on Haze and lifts him into the air for a bodyslam. Haze kicks his legs and slides down Nightbane’s back, locking his head in the process. Lifting him into the air, Haze delivers Democracy, and Nightbane is out like a light. Haze is exhausted, but he slowly rolls over and drapes an arm over Nightbane. Daton slides in to make the count. 1…2…kickout!]

Cliff Anderson:: My God! What does he have to do to keep Nightbane down?!

Oxford Flanigan:: I have a revolver pistol in my vest here somewhere. Maybe that would do the trick.

Cliff Anderson:: I wonder if Haze wishes he could take back all of those things he said to Nightbane prior to this match, because I think he lit a fire under James Nightbane.

[Haze appears frustrated and covers Nightbane again. Again, only a two-count. On the outside of the ring, Kartier and Revilation are double-teaming Machine with weapons, and the big man is down on one knee. While this is going on, Josh McCool sprints out from the back to a huge ovation from the crowd. His forehead is bandaged and his eyes are focused.]

Cliff Anderson:: If Nightbane weren’t hurtin’ enough as it is, here comes Josh McCool to return the favor…

[Machine hurls Revilation into the ring, causing Perry Daton to turn his attention to the masked man. Daton attempts to remove a dazed Revilation from the ring, but with little luck. McCool slides into the ring as Nightbane slowly stands and begins trading weak punches with Haze. McCool bounces off the ropes and charges with a head of steam, turning Haze inside out with the Facelift! The crowd goes banana! McCool rolls out of the ring and stares at Nightbane. Nightbane gazes at McCool momentarily with a confused look on his face, then drops to his knees and makes the cover as Daton turns just in time to make the count. 1…2…3!]

Cliff Anderson:: New champion! New champion! I can’t believe it! Nightbane is the NEW AWA Heavyweight Champion!

[The place comes unglued in spontaneous celebration as Nightbane rolls into a sitting position and raises both arms into the air. All of the action on the outside of the ring stops as all attention turns to the center of the ring. The bell rings and Jolly Roger comes with the announcement.]

Jolly Roger:: Aaargh! And the winner of the match, and NEW Heavyweight Champion…James Nightbane!

[Jolly Roger’s announcement causes tremors throughout the arena as the fans are going berserk. Haze comes to, and he’s got a stupefied expression on his face. He’s in total disbelief. McCool just stands on the outside of the ring with his arms folded across his chest, watching. Suddenly, “All in the Suit that you Wear” by the Stone Temple Pilots kicks in, but it doesn’t hamper the excitement in the arena one bit.]
That never happened!
[Cormier storms out from the back with a furious scowl on his kisser. A few fans boo, but most are still cheering for the new champion. Cormier walks down to the ringside area, grabs a mic, and climbs into the ring.]

Richard Cormier:: What are you, blind?! Josh McCool interfered! James Nightbane should be disqualified!

[Perry Daton assures the AWA Owner that he didn’t see any interference.]

Richard Cormier::Listen to me, you little puke. I’m the reason that you’re able to feed you family every week, so you listen to me, do you understand. I tell people how things are done around here, and I’m telling you that that pinfall NEVER HAPPENED! Now reverse this match and return the belt to Haze.

Perry Daton:: I...I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t do that. I called the match how I saw it, and that’s the best I can do.

Richard Cormier:: Hmmm…so you’re not going to reverse the decision, eh?

[Daton shakes his head from side to side.]

Richard Cormier:: Very well, then. You’re FIRED!

[Daton’s jaw drops as the arena showers Cormier with boos. Cormier walks over to Nightbane and holds his hand out.]

Richard Cormier:: Hand the belt over, Nightbane. That match never happened, and you’re not the champion.

[Nightbane slowly stands up and looks down at the belt as the fans begin yelling, pleading with Nightbane not to give the title back. Nightbane looks at Cormier, then back at the belt, then back at Cormier again. Finally, Nightbane makes his decision in the form of a giant glob of spit directly into the face of Richard Cormier. The fans go nuts as Nightbane rolls out of the ring still holding the belt. He and Machine retreat up the ramp, leaving an infuriated, spit-covered Cormier fuming in the ring.]

Richard Cormier:: Nightbane, that’s the biggest mistake you’ve ever made in your life. Go ahead and keep that belt until next week. Next week, Haze gets is rematch for the belt, and I can promise you that it won’t be pleasant.

[Kartier and Revilation slide into the ring beside Cormier as Haze walks up behind them. Riptide fades to black as a sinister grin forms on the face of Cormier.]


Atlantic Wrestling Association