<HTML><HEAD><TITLE>SUNDAY SUICIDE!</TITLE>

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<CENTER>| September 20th, 2004 | Lubbock, Texas | United Spirit Center

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[Darkness...]

[A metalic creak as an industrialized metalic HWF symbol rotates slowly

into view in a slight bit of light...]

#Reach out and touch faith...

[Marilyn Manson's cover of Depsche Mode's classic "Personal Jesus"

errupts as scenes of classic HWF matches and personalities come into

view... Turning to face the camera, lit by a pale blue light in the

darkness...]

#Your own...

[Sharp...]

#personal...

[Fuller...]

#Jesus...

[Trey...]

#REach out and touch faith!

[O'Riley...]

#Faith!!

[Pericolo, Jett, Cross, Logan...]

#Someone who's there, someone who cares...

[Newcomers Hawava, Azure, Reed...]

#Pick up the receiver, I'll make you a believer...

[Fischer, Tyrell, Champion, COllins... Chair shots, body locks,

suplexes... Champions and contenders flash on the screen... And then the

fireworks go off as we find ourselves in the jam packed Ford Center!!!]

Tim: Good evening, Ladies and Gentlemen, and WELCOME to the Hardcore

Wrestling Federation's SUNDAY SUICIDE!!!

[The crowd screams, and the cameras pan, showing varied Shopzone items

and signs... "Dili-what?", "Cross ate my Baby", and "Sharp for President"

are some standouts...]

Tim: WELCOME everyone to HWF Sunday Suicide! I'm your announcer, Tim Miller, alongside my partner, Jeff...

Jeff: I'm hot. You're not. End of story. ROBINSON!

Tim: Hmmm...a little lackluster there, Jeff. Normally you drag on a bit, that was quick.

Jeff: Oh trust me, compaired to how long your mom lasted last night...that was slow as hell.

[The crowd pops at Jeff's comments, laughing as Tim shakes his head.]

Tim: Ah...ever realiable to come up with another mom joke, Jeff. Alright folks, well, we're gonna waste no time here tonight in bringing you in on the action, so let's get going!

Jeff: Sweet, your mom's here?! The fans are gonna get to watch?!

Tim: Not THAT action, Jeff....I hear something is going on backstage with the security gate...a camera is there to check it out.

<CENTER>HWF: SUNDAY SUICIDE</CENTER>

[We are at the security gate of the arena. A security guard is busy looking out so no one illegal enters the arena. He looks quite bored. Then a very tall individual wearing a postal uniform enters the picture carrying a bag of what appears to be mail. He approaches the security guard and hands him a magazine. Not just any magazine though, a porn magazine.]

Security Guard: I don't think I should be looking at this on the job.

Mail Man (aka Fantastico): Si, si, si.

[The Mail Man walks off not bothering to take back the magainze. The security guard shrugs and starts going through the magainze. A few moments pass and with the guard so entertained by the dirty photos in the magainze, he decides to take the magainze with him to the bathroom (for his bathroom break). Thus leaving the entrance wide open for an illegal to enter. Another few moments pass and a large beige VW van speeds into the arena. They stop backstage with the driver, Fantastico, opening the front door and getting out. Getting out of the passenger door is Senor Bagoshit. They both make their way to the back door. Both open the doors in the back to reveal a masked luchadore wearing a gold mask. He is on a burro. He is Emanual Labor, the ring leader of the HWF's newest tag team...LOS ILLEGALES!! He rides the burro off the van...]

Emanual Labor: Vamoes a mostrar la acche-dubbe-uuu-effe (HWF) quien es el mejor equipo...ARRIBA LOS ILLEGALES!!!

[Fantastico and Senor Bagoshit grab a guitar and trumpet from the back of the van and the trio ride off to the backstage area...]

Tim: Apparently the HWF has a new tag team...Los Illegales...

Jeff: Someone call INS!!

<CENTER>SINGLES MATCH Hawava vs. Vincent Azure</CENTER>

[The bright lights flash as 'Downer' by Nirvana hits and Vincent Azure makes his way towards the ring, amidst 'boo's and smoke. No flashy pose. No flashy fireworks. Vincent simply marches his way down the ramp and into the ring.]

Tim: Well, Azure seems fairly excited.

Jeff: I tell you, he's like a fucking kid who just got done snorting pixie sticks, he is.

[The Hounds ''Let it Out'' crescendo's through the arena, starting quietly but then getting very loud just before the vocals come into play. Mr. Diligently Steady, Hawava, walks out to receive a positive reaction from the fans. As he walks down the hwf-tron he keeps an eye on Vincent Azure who is already in the ring. Hawava stands still on the ramp for a moment, thinking up a wise solution of trying to make a quick win, so that he can make a quick escape. Azure, standing in the ring, shrugs and climbs over the ropes and hops off the apron to the outside. He goes over to the announcers table and collects a mic and a chair. He walks nearer to the ring and opens up the metal black chair, before returning into the ring with a mic.]

Vincent Azure: Come along now Hawava. Official, come out here and guide Hawava to the ring.

Jeff: Bwahaha, Hawava-dava-doo has to get an escort to the ring? What a pussy!

[As Hawava starts to progress to the ring again, a man dressed in a black suit and black cap walks onto the hwf-tron, and is soon standing behind Hawava, prodded him to walk at a faster rate.]

Vincent Azure: That's right Hawava. Do as you are told, because he is here to make sure you manage to get down to this ring without running away, like you did at Indecent Exposure.

Tim: He ran off because Azure was getting far too violent! What bullshit!

Jeff: No, Tim, he ran away because he has a vagina. He doesn't even have a mangina, it's just a slit and nothing more.

[Hawava's turns his head over his shoulders, but the man in the black suit hides his face. Hawava climbs into the ring, whilst the anonymous man stands on the outside.]

Vincent Azure: Well, did you use the little time you had there to get to know him? I didn't think so. I've hired this man to observe our match, because personally, I don't think you are safe to work with.

Tim: WHAT?!

Jeff: That's true, Hawava might try coming onto him...

[the crowd erupts in boo's]

Vincent Azure: Take a seat my friend from the HWF Safety Regulations board. Shall we shake on this Hawava?

Tim: SHAKE?! After all of this he wants to shake hands?!

[The man takes a seat on the chair as Hawava eyes Azure warily. Azure tosses the mic aside, holding out his hand. Hawava holds out his hand, as the two go for a handshake...but Hawava flunches, pulling away as if he expected Azure to attack!]

Jeff: BWAHAHAAA! I TOLD YOU, THE GUY'S A LITTLE PUSSY!

Tim: Jeff!

Jeff: He probably still hides under his mother's skirt whenever he's afraid! Or lonely, for that matter...the weird bastard.

[Azure's hand remains out as he watches Hawava, amused. Hawava shakes his head and holds out his hand once more, the two shaking hands firmly. Suddenly, a grin breaks out on Azure's face as he begins to laugh, causing Hawava to back up slightly, confused. Azure shakes his head, stepping back and motioning to the ref to start the match.]

Tim: And now the match is finally going underway...

[As the bell rings Azure snaps forward with a right hand, catching Hawava off gaurd and ROCKING him backwards. Azure steps forward and grabs Hawava's arm, spinning behind him and locking his arm in place, before wrapping his free arm around Hawava's waist and lifting him up. Azure stalls a little before DROPPING Hawava, right onto his own arm!]

Tim: OUCH! What a move by Azure to start things off, and this may actually be a pretty good match despite the embarassing start!

Jeff: Wha?! The start to this match was great! Shut your trap, Tim! You don't know what you're talkin' about.

[Hawava rolls away clutching at his arm in pain as Azure laughs, stepping forward and lifting him up. Hawava somehow manages to break free, however, landing a solid kick to the gut on Azure, doubling him over. Hawava spins behind Azure, reverse waistlocking him and pulling him down to the mat on his side, hopping over and catching him with a side headlock. Azure stands with Hawava and shoves him to the ropes, but Hawava hops up and springboards back of the ropes, twisting in midair and catching Azure off gaurd with a springboard crossbody!]

Tim: Nice moves by Hawava here, keeping Azure at bay...

[Hawava sits up on Azure's chest, rocking him with MMA style rights and lefts to the side of the head. Azure struggles to get away but Hawava, trying to wear down Azure as fast as he can out of fear, actually FORCES Azure's arms to his side, locking them down with his knees and just POUNDING away at his head once more! Azure continues to struggle, before actually manages to slide himself out from under Hawava, his arms still locked under Hawava's knees, however.]

Tim: And Hawava is just unloading on Azure! Azure tries to get away but Hawava now...keeping him locked in place...

Jeff: I TOLD YOU HE WOULD TRY TO COME ONTO HIM!!!

[A brief struggles ensues as Azure tries to get away from Hawava, who grabs ahold of his hands, trying to pull him forward once more. Azure manages to lock his feet against the ropes and pull himself away, causing Hawava to lose his grip and stumble forward, nearly falling through the ropes across the ring! Azure stands as Hawava staggers back up, turning to see Azure charging for him. Expecting a clothesline Hawava ducks under..only to be met with a hard running knee to the gut, sending him front-flipping over and onto his back!]

Tim: And Hawava caught completely unaware by Azure here!

[Azure staggers a little, for some reason dazed. Hawava is slowly reaching his feet as Azure shakes it off, stepping towards the rising Hawava and hitting him with a few clubbing forearms, forcing him up. Suddenly, Hawava snaps up and smashes Azure with a right hand right across the side of his head! Azure staggers backwards, before falling to the mat, seemingly out cold! The ref looks concerned, as does Hawava, as the man on the outside who's remained rather motionless during the match suddenly jumps up, his black cap falling off...]

Tim: CEAN GLACE?!

Jeff: What the fuck?!

[Cean Glace runs over to the ring, hopping onto the apron as the ref comes over to stop him from entering. They argue as Glace insists on entering the ring, pointing towards the downed Azure frantically. The ref shakes his head and motions for Glace to get back down as Cean continues to protest, trying to enter the ring. Suddenly, Azure sits up...his head snapping towards hawava, who begins to back away in fear. Azure drops back, coiling up and springing to his feet!]

Tim: Oh shit, Azure's at it again...

Jeff: Oh FUCK YEAH! Now THIS is entertainment!

[Hawava turns to try and leave the ring quickly, but all ready Azure is on top of him, DRAGGING him back into the center of the ring and raining down closed-fist punches on him! Azure grabs Hawava by his hair, snapping him to the mat and stomping away at him, before forcing him up againa and driving some swift knees into his stomach. By now Hawava is just getting beaten around like a rag doll, falling to the mat in pain as Glace manages to get through the ref into the ring, trying to reach Azure and pull him away! The ref stops Cean just in time though, pushing him back as the two begin to argue once more.]

Tim: What the hell is Glace doing?!

Jeff: No clue, but that's opening up Hawava for some serious punishment from Azure here, and I'm loving every moment!

[Azure slides out of the ring, lifting the apron and pulling out a steel chair and kendo stick, sliding them in. He slides in himself as Hawava struggles to reach the ropes. Azure lifts up the kendo stick and begins RAINING down on Hawava with shots, the shots making loud 'CRACK' noises. Distracted, the ref turns to look...allowing Glace to rush forward and try to get at Azure again! The ref instantly stops Glace, not noticing the weapon usage still as the two begin arguing once more! The ref starts to threaten to send Glace out back, as Glace continues to plead with the ref!]

Tim: Glace REALLY wants in here...I wonder why though?

Jeff: Probably too pussy to handle watching Azure kill Hawava, the fag.

Tim: JEFF!!! You're gonna get us sued!

Jeff: And? Ah the good ol' days...getting sued because I spout something random off on air. Gotta love it.

Tim: I still wonder how you keep your job...

Jeff: You don't wanna know.

[Azure lifts Hawava up, rearing back with the kendo stick for another shot...only to have Hawava block it! Hawava catches the stick, yanking Azure forward and dropping the weapon as he catches Azure in a quick arm-wringer, before dropping low and tripping up Azure, pulling his legs out from under him! Azure hits the mat and rolls to the side as Hawava stands, running tot he ropes and hopping up onto them. Azure staggers up as Hawava springboards off, twisting and hitting a springboard dropkick!]

Tim: Springboard dropkick and Azure is down!

[Glace finally leaves the ring as Hawava pushes the weapons out of the ring, not wanting Azure or himself disqualified. the ref turns to see both men down and starts a count, only for Hawava to reach his feet before the ref even reaches 2. Hawava goes towards Azure, lifting him up...only to be shoved back! Hawava stumbles backwards into the ref, elbowing him back into the turnbuckle. The ref clutches at his head, dazed, as Azure charges forward, SPEARING Hawava RIGHT into the turnbuckle, and the ref as well! Both men crumple to the ground as Azure stands triumphantly, grinning and grabbing a fistful of Hawava's hair...pulling him up to his feet once more.]

Tim: Dammit, Azure's fucking NUTS! And the ref is down too, nothing's stopping Azure from breaking even more rules then he all ready has!

Jeff: Hell yeah! Now things are picking up...

[Glace slides in as Azure goes to throw Hawava over the top rope...only to have him hold on! Both men tumble to the outside as Glace watches in disbelief, shaking his head, disgruntled.]

Jeff: Bwahaha...that's right, Glace! All that hard work of sliding into the ring for NOTHING!

[Hawava, amazingly...is actually the first to his feet! Glace sees this and runs over, seemingly going to try and get him away from Azure, when suddenly Glace LAUNCHES himself over the top rope! Hawava turns and...PLANCHA OF DOOM!!!]

Jeff: PLANCHA! PLANCHA! MY GOD, A PLANCHA FROM CEAN GLACE! HAWAVA IS DEAD!

[Both men crash to the mat as Azure stands, pulling Hawava out from under Glace and launching him back into the ring. Azure slides in as Glace stands and does the same. Azure yells towards Glace, who nods and drops low, reaching outside the ring and picking up the downed steel chair!]

Tim: What the hell is Glace doing?! Why is he helping Azure like this?!

[Glace slides the chair towards Azure, who then proceeds to put Hawava in a standing headscissors and lift him up...before dropping him RIGHT back down with a sitout powerbomb onto the chair! Hawava arks his back, yelling out in pain as Azure stands, smirking down at him. He motions to Glace once again, stomping his foot a little to indicate a superkick. Glace nods and backs up as Azure reaches down, lifting Hawava up to his feet...]

Tim: Damn it, that's enough! Stop this right now!

Jeff: Tim...shut up and enjoy this. It's amusing, you must admit.

Tim: This match was just fine until these two took things out of control, damn it!

[Azure locks Hawava's arms behind his head, holding him steady as Glace charges forward, pivoting slightly for the superkick...and Hawava somehow slides free! Glace connects with the superkick directly under Azure's chin, sending him flying backwards and crumpling to the mat! Hawava stands back up as Glace looks on, shocked, only to get socked right across the chin with a punch!]

Tim: YES! That's it, Hawava! Show them what you're made of, fight back!

Jeff: Just a little biased there, aren't ya'?

Tim: FUCK being unbiased, these two ruined a perfectly fine matchup!

Jeff: It's like you have a heart attack anyone even touches a weapon, despite the fed's name being the HARDCORE WRESTLING FEDERATION, Tim.

[Glace stumbles back as Hawava begins rocking him around with punches...only to have Glace manage to fight back with some of his own! The two begin trading punches as Hawava continues to power through, managing to push Glace back a little before connecting with a solid kick to the gut, doubling him over! Hawava grabs ahold of Glace and pulls him forward, locking his head under his arm and driving back with a stiff DDT!]

Tim: STIFF DDT from Hawava, and Glace is DOWN!

[Glace rolls out of the ring, holding his head in pain as Hawava stands triumphantly, the crowd cheering him on! However, the cheers soon turn to boos, confusing the rookie as he looks around, eyebrow raised. He turns around...and gets spiked RIGHT in the gut with the end of a steel chair! Azure throws the chair out of the ring and forces Hawava back up from his doubled over state, pumping forward and snapping his leg out..]

Jeff: ZERO!

Tim: Damn it, and ZERO connects on Hawava, knocking him out cold!

[The move connects as Hawava just crumples to the mat, completely out of it. Azure looks over to the ref, who's actually managed to get back up by now, still trying to shake off the cobwebs. Azure yells at the ref to make the count as he drops down, hooking the leg for the cover. The ref recovers and runs over, dropping down to make the count...]

[ONE...TWO...THREE!]

Tim: It's over...damn it all, it shouldn't have happened like it did though.

[The bell rings as "Downer" hits the speakers, the crowd booing Azure as he stands. Glace re-enters the ring, going over to Azure as the two stare at each other. Finally, Azure breaks out into a smile and holds out his hand, Glace shaking it firmly. The two pull their hands away and touch fists in a sign of respect, nodding their heads and turning to the downed Hawava, Glace simply staring and Azure smirking.]

Tim: Ugh...folks, we're being told to cut to the back right now, and I'm sorry for what you had to see. This was just...ugh, just get back there.

Jeff: Tim, dig the sand out of your crotch and move on...it was a fucking match. For God's sake, quit acting like someone just died.

[The camera stays focused on the two in the ring, before finally fading off and cutting backstage.]

<center>COMMERCIAL</center>

[Chris Champion is seen walking through the backstage area with a gym bag

in his hand. He looks to have a smile on his face and actually seems

pleased for a change. He continues to strut around with a purpose, looking

ready for his North American title match. He turns a corner... and is

greeted by none other than Nightstalker. Or is it Tyrell? Chris' smile

turns to a look of concern as he approaches the mysterious Stalker with

caution]

Chris Champion: Tyrell?

[The big man's eyes narrow as he looks down his nose at Champion standing

before him.]

Tyrell?: What do you want?

Chris Champion: I just wanted to make sure things between us were okay.

I totally understand that chair shot you hit me with two weeks ago was an

accident. Also, I'd like to say I thought you were unlucky at IE. You

seemed pretty pissed at the end.

Tyrell?: Okay between us? What, are we married now? Accident or no, you

probably deserved that chair shot, you obviously do not know anything that

goes on outside of your little fantasy world.

Chris Champion: Alright, man. Chill out. I'm not here to start a fight

with you.

Tyrell?: Chill out? Listen here skippy, I really do not know, nor care

what is going on inside that head of yours, obviously you think we are

friends. However, you just go out there, and win your little title match,

and if you do, come back, and we will talk.

Chris Champion: I knew you'd come to your senses, Simon. After I'm

through with Dylan tonight, I'll take you out for a victory drink to

celebrate. Collins is elsewhere. So I guess you'll do!

[With that, Chris pats Tyrell on the shoulder and walks away. Tyrell?

growls lightly as he slowly brushes off his shoulder and continues down the

hall.]

[Suicide cuts to the entrance area of backstage, where we find a big, burly security guard standing tall and making sure no one gets in who shouldn't. However, he doesn't count on a relatively small guy turning up dressed in jeans and a flannel jacket stepping through the door...]

Man: Hey buddy, is this the way into the backstage area?

Security: Sure is.

Man: Booyah!

[He goes to step past the guard, but is met with a hand on chest...]

Security: Sorry sir, but I'm required to ask for some identification before I can let you in. Do you have a pass?

Man: Well, technically... No. But my name's Daniel Marshall. I'm a pal of Jon Fuller's and I've basically come over to check up on him since I'm a local boy and we kinda go back a few years. You heard about his mother passing away?

[The security guard nods.]

Daniel Marshall: I'm basically here to try and make sure he doesn't go off the tracks. Jon helped me once, and all I'm trying to do is repay the debt.

[The guard pauses a moment, thinking it over.]

Security: I really shouldn't...

Daniel Marshall: But who's gonna know? It's not like I'm going to cause any trouble or anything... I'm just here to check up on an old friend? Is that really so bad?

Security: Well...

Daniel Marshall: I'll tell you what... If anyone asks, I'll just speak Spanish and wave my arms about loads. That way, I'll either get chucked out without a fuss or I'll scare whoever the hell it is away. That cool?

Security: Whatever you say man, just so long as I don't get the blame for it.

Daniel Marshall: Look at this face... How could you not trust me?

[He pats the guard on the back and walks off, as the security official shakes his head and turns back to face the door...]

[Directly outside of the United Spirt Arena, a small crowd of 10-15 people have gathered at the entrance gate for the wrestler parking area. It's your basic wrestling crowd, it's filtered with people wearing their favorite wrestlers t-shirt, to a few people holding up signs for tonight's show that say such strange things such as "I beat up Jimmy Jett in grade school", and "Steve Sharp is sharp". The moment of truth finally arrives as the crowd begins to buzz around a single Yellow cab that pulls up next to the entrance gate. The back door swings open, and a pair of work-out sneakers steps out. The remainder of the body exits as Dylan O'Riley now stands directly in front of the crowd. He slams the door of the cab shut, the taps on the roof of the cab to signal the driver that it's cool to leave. He tosses a smile to the crowd as he starts to move through them like Moses parting the Red Sea.]

Voice: Your a fag O'Riley!

[Dylan stops dead in his tracks as he hears that remark. Then quickly turns around to face the crowd.]

Voice: Loser!

[Dylan now stands on the tips of his toes in a vain attempt to get a better look at his new found friend.]

Dylan: I don't understand where all this hostility is coming from my brother?

[The face behind the voice now pushes forward and stands about 2-3 feet away from Dylan.]

Voice: No brother of mine would work with that Camp Jim fag!

Dylan: Look man...That isn't cool, and if your going to speak to me in such a manner, then I'm just going to turn my back and head inside and get ready for the show.

[Dylan does just that as he turns his back to on his unruly fan and begins to make his way inside the building.]

Voice: Go inside and play with you little yellow boas you camp Jim fag! I hope Champion kicks your ass tonight.

[Dylan just shakes his back and forth as he continues walking until he is finally out of sight.]

[We find ourselves backstage in the United Spirit Arena in the middle of a frenzy of activity. The HWF Production staff are busy at work putting on another great edition of Suicide. In the chaos we see the HWF's least liked Interviewer, Lisa Sullivan, sitting in a chair, no one to interview. That's nothing new really, ever since she associated herself with the Elite she's fallen out of favor with most of the wrestlers. Despite her change of heart she's not been welcomed back with open arms and she finds herself scanning the frantic scene for a possible interview. Off in the distance she spots one. She's on her feet and moving before we can even make out her target.]

Lisa Sullivan: Jake! Jake Reed wait!

[Lisa stumbles up behind Jake who has just entered the building and finds himself ambushed on the way to his dressing room. He decides to do his public service for the week and take pity on Lisa.]

Jake Reed: Yeah? What can I do for you?

Lisa Sullivan: Jake word around the back is that you're in some serious trouble after trashing that locker room after your match last week. Not to mention breaking that guy's finger! Their was speculation that you'd been suspended. I can see now that that was unfounded, but I'm sure something happened to you?

Jake Reed: The Board fined me the cost of the damage plus I agreed to pick up the guy's medical bills. I also threw in a little bit extra to persuade him not to press charges.

Lisa Sullivan: Give me a round number? what are talking here? Hundreds? Thousands?

Jake Reed: About $5,000 between the damage, the bills, and the settlement.

Lisa Sullivan: So Jake, will we see another tantrum tonight if you lose to Jonny X? I've heard that security has been put on alert.

Jake Reed: Look? that was a mistake. I was having a lot of problems sorting out my emotions but I've got that all worked out. I'm on some medication and I've reconciled with my Father. Things couldn't be any better. If I lose I lose, no big deal. Although, if I was a betting man I wouldn't put money on another mark in the 'L' column this week. I'm gonna turn some heads tonight Lisa! I've spent two matches here in HWF trying to figure out who Jake Reed is and I've gone in the wrong direction both times. Tonight will be different? tonight I'm not going to be trying to figure out who Jake Reed is, I'm going to be remembering who Jake Reed used to be. You'll be impressed tonight Lisa, you'll all be impressed.

[Jake turns to leave but Lisa shouts one last question trying to draw him back.]

Lisa Sullivan: So you're not worried about what everyone's saying?

[Jake bites. He stops and turns back to Lisa.]

Jake Reed: And what exactly has everyone been saying?

Lisa Sullivan: That tonight will be the start of the official Jake Reed losing streak?

Jake Reed: You just watch me out there in that ring tonight and you decide if I'm worried?

[Jake turns and walks off, pushing through a set of double doors and disappearing. Lisa is left alone again and she reluctantly heads back to her former perch to keep a constant eye out for anyone who might actually be willing to talk to her.]

<center>COMMERCIAL</center>

<CENTER>SINGLES MATCH Jake Reed vs. Jonny X</CENTER>

["Titty Twister" by Diesel Boy picks up over the PA system, as a green smoke fills the entrance way. A small shadowy figure is seen, walking through the smoke until fully noticeable, Jonny X stands atop the stage. He is navy khaki material shorts and harley davidson kickers for boots....]

#Eat a bag of shit you suck

#I can't believe the luck you have

#Its not bestowed upon me

#And my pants are falling down

#I would have another drink

#Except it might be poisoned

#By my mind

#And my pants are falling down

[On the HWF tron behind him, a large pot leaf is being zoomed in and zoomed out upon, almost like the interlude between scenes in the 70's version of Batman. Encircling the leaf is a yellow oval, signifying the spotlight. Jonny X begins making his way down the ring, the fans not quite sure how to react.]

#I don't know what you've been drinking

#But pour another one for me

#My pants are falling down

#The room is spinning around

#My stomach is making funny sounds

#I'm falling down

[Jonny X makes it to the end of the ramp, and slowly walks up the stairs, being careful not to exert too much energy. He stands on the edge of the ring, looking to the crowd. Suddenly with the next verse, Jonny X starts yelling the words along with the song.]

#"Fuck you I hate you"

#Is all she said as she slapped my face

#And spit beer on me

#And my pant are falling down

#She said, "You're a no good, ugly, dumb, stupid punk rocker

#With a bad haircut And your pants are falling down"

#I don't know what you've been smoking

#But pack another bowl for me

#My pants are falling down

#The room is spinning around

#My stomach is making funny sounds

#I'm falling down

[With that, the music dies down and Jonny X enters the ring between the top and middle ropes. He then proceeds to his corner, and sits on the middle turnbuckle, awaiting his opponent.]

Nigel Rolsten: AND his opponent?

[The quiet introduction of Thrice's "Identity Crisis" can be heard over the arena speakers drawing the fans attention to the entry way. A glaring pick slide later the song kicks in fully and Jake Reed emerges from the back. The fan reaction is decidedly mixed as Jake makes his way towards the ring, stopping to hand out a few high fives along the way.]

Nigel Rolsten: ?from Charlotte, North Carolina?weighing two hundred and thirty-six pounds?he is JAKE REEEEEEEEEEDDDDDDDD!!!!

[Jake slides in under the bottom ring rope and leaps to his feet, a hop suddenly appearing in his step. Jake bounds around the ring swinging his arms, stretching and warming up. He finally mounts a turnbuckle and looks out over an unimpressed crowd before throwing one hand into the air. Jake jumps down and stretches in his corner preparing for the match, mentally and physically.]

Tim: Well we are ready to start out opening bout with the debut of Jonny X and Jake Reed, who by the way is still searching for his first victory in the HWF.

Jeff: Keep this up and he'll reach Nightshades losing record...which is the longest in HWF history.

[Referee Chuck Ballard calls for the bell to start this match...*DING*DING*DING*DING*...Jonny X takes a swing at Jake hoping to catch him off guard. He does. Jake staggers back from the force of the right and finds himself leaning against the ropes. Jonny charges right at Jake attempting to finish what he started but this time Jake is ready. Reed lowers his shoulder and back body drops Jonny X up and over the top rope. X somehow manages to grab the top rope in mid air, using it to help him land safely on the ring apron. Jake turns around with a plancha on his mind but instead finds himself face to face with Jonny. X throws a punch from the apron but Jake blocks it, grabbing Jonny's hand as he does. Jake throws a high hook kick right to Jonny's temple, stunning him and leaving Jonny slumped over the top rope, his head hanging inside the ring. Jake quickly makes a move, turning and springboarding off the nearby side ropes. Jake turns in mid air extending his leg and bringing it down across the back of Jonny's head with a springboard turnaround legdrop that saw X's neck crushed against the top rop. Jonny falls back and off the apron, landing hard on the floor below.]

Tim: Reed with the impressive legdrop on Jonny X and X is already in trouble here folks.

Jeff: What kind of name is Jonny X anyways? It sounds like some sort of comic book character.

[Reed spots an opportunity to hit X with some sort of high risk move. Meanwhile Chuck Ballard begins to make the count...ONE...X stands on one knee with his hands around his throat...TWO...Reed runs for a corner close to X and climbs up to the top?THREE?X pulls himself up to his feet?FOUR?Reed remains perched on the top turnbuckle waiting for the right moment to attack X?FIVE?X turns around to face Reed. Just as he does, Reed quickly turns around so his back is facing X. Reed jumps off the turnbuckle and moonsaults...but X spots Reed in the nick of time and sommersaults to saftey. Reed lands and hits all mat.]

Tim: Reed misses the moonsault...

[Chuck Ballard restarts his count...ONE...Both men slowly struggle to their feet as the ringside fans cheer them on....TWO...Jonny makes the first move as he manages to stabilize himself first....THREE...X throws a wild punch that connects only to have it followed up by the same from Jake. Jake tries to send a follow up in but Jonny catches it. ..FOUR...Jake pulls back with his left hand, but Jonny thinks fast stepping in and hooking Jake up for a hip toss. Jake blocks the toss though, switching up and launching Jonny with a hip toss instead...FIVE...Jonny clears the barricade and lands right in the lap of some front row fans. The crowd scatters though one burly guy with a pot leaf shirt on stops to help Jonny up before vacating the area...SIX...Jonny X gives the guy a thumbs up and Jake takes full advantage of his momentary gesture. Jake moves in and grab's Jonny by the hair, smashing his face into the guardrail...SEVEN...Jonny falls backward, landing in one of the front row chairs, his eyes glazed over...EIGHT...Jake spring right into action, sliding back into the ring, breaking the referees count. Jake scurries to his feet and charges across the ring. He bounces off the ropes and rebounds back across the ring towards Jonny X in the front row. Jake leaps up into the air, springs off the top rope and takes flight. He pulls a front flip with a twist and crashes down into the front row. Unfortunately Jonny X managed to move leaving Jake to land right on the uncomfortable steel chairs at ringside.]

Tim: Reed with ANOTHER HIGH RISK MISS!!!

Jeff: When is Reed going to realize that he is facing a comic book super hero. He has like super vision to see these high risk moves...

Tim: Oh brother...

[X slides back into the ring to break up another ref count. X then slides back out. He walks over to Reed and pulls him up to his feet. He slides Reed back into the ring via underneath the bottom rope. X slides back in as well. X stands back up and pulls Reed up to his feet. Reed though somehow breaks the grip X had on him. Reed punches X with a right fist across his face. Reed then charges for the ropes. Reed comes bounding off the ropes at full force. Reed goes for a clothesline, but Jonny X ducks, grabs Reed's arm and drops him into an armbar. Reed struggles for the ropes as Jonny X tries to hold him back. X wrenches back on Jake's arm, but to no avail. Reed manages to grab his free hand onto the ropes and the referee instructs Jonny X to let go. Jonny gets back to his feet, and climbs to the second turnbuckle. As Reed gets up, shaking the effects of the armbar, he turns to face Jonny X, only to be met with a dropkick to the teeth. Reed goes down hard.]

Tim: Jake Reed is really having trouble here against Jonny X. He can't seem to form any momentum.

Jeff: Like I said before, X is a comic book superstar.

Tim: Would you cut that comic book stuff out?

[X stands up and races off to the far ropes as Reed musters the strength to get to his feet. Reed turns around, getting his bearings on Jonny X, while being greeted with a mid-air Jonny X. Reed quickly ducks and X leap frogs over Reed, and bounces off the other ropes. Reed drops to his stomach, and Jonny X dashes over top of him. Jonny X returns from the ropes again, attempting a dropkick to the chest of Reed, only to have Reed sidestep it at the last possible second. Reed takes full advantage and locks on a sleeper hold as Jonny is sitting upright. X fights to get free, but Reed has a kung-fu grip locked in.]

Tim: Reed has the sleeper locked in...would X be able to hang on here...

Jeff: ...or is the comic book hero gonna go nighty nite?

[Reed squeezes harder, trying to incapacitate the stoner, but to no avail. Jonny X breaks free of the sleeper hold with a quick dip and twist to face Reed. X lunges foreward and takes Reed to the mat with a standing clothesline. Both men lay on the mat as the referee begins his count.]

[1...]

[2...]

[3...]

[4...]

[5...]

Tim: X is still alive in this one!!

[Jonny X crawls up to his hands and knees and grabs the nearest rope.]

[6...]

[Jake Reed rolls onto his stomach, grabbing for the nearest rope as well. Jonny X is up to one knee, using the ropes for support.]

[7...]

[8...]

[Jake Reed gets to one knee, struggling to heave himself upward. Jonny X reaches his feet, and breathes heavily, leaning against the ropes. Reed takes the final upward plunge and maintains his balance on his feet.]

Tim: Both men are back up...and are ready to start this fight over again.

[Reed and X walk up to each other then begin trading blows one after another. punch, retaliate, repeat. Quickly, Reed takes the advantage and whips Jonny X into the ropes. Jonny comes soaring back at Reed, only to be met with a running leaping forearm smash! Jonny X collapses to the safety of the mat. Reed doesn't let up there, he stands over Jonny X, who has rolled over onto his stomach. Reed takes full advantage of the downed X, and begins locking him into a boston crab. Reed manages to lock in one leg, but only temporarily as Jonny X powers out of it with a massive kick sending Jake to the mat at Jonny X's feet. X gets to his feet, using one hand as a balance mechanism. Slowly X makes his way over to Jake Reed, only to get a kick in the knee that drops Jonny X back to the mat as well.]

Tim: Reed with the kick to X's knee, sending the newcomer down.

Jeff: I guess X's superpowers are running out since a kick like that shouldn't have phased him.

Tim: For the last time, Jonny X is not a comic book hero...

Jeff: What is he then?

Tim: I am not sure myself

[Reed pulls himself up to his feet. X is still down. Reed sits on one knee next to X and then pulls him up. Reed applies a sit down sleeper on X. Jonny X fights to get to one knee, but Reed is pushing him back down. Once again X gets to one knee, and again he's forced back to his seat. The referee raises Jonny X's hand, and it drops. The referee raises it a second time, and it drops lifelessly. The ref picks his arm back up, and let's it swing back down, only to have a burst of energy surge through X's veins, giving him the strength to quickly get to both knees, and then bolt upright into a standing position.]

Tim: X IS STILL ALIVE!!!

Jeff: Unfortunately...

[X elbows Reed in the stomach. Reed's grip is loosened. X elbows Reed in the stomach again. Reed's grip breaks. X charges for the ropes. Reed stretches his arm out hoping to clothesline X. But X spots Reed's arm as he bounces off the ropes. X ducks underneath and runs for the ropes. X bounces off and charges for Reed. Reed turns around and is greeted with a punch to the face. Reed staggers backwards. Jonny X drops Reed with a quick uppercut and a left hook. Reed holds his right kidney, in agony. Reed manages to get to one knee, before Jonny X baseball slides a dropkick into Reed's legs. Reed sprawls out on top of Jonny X, and the two fight for control. They stop near the ropes, Reed is on top, and laying the shots to Jonny X. One punch, two punch, three punch, four. Reed gets off of Jonny X, and grabs him by the hair, forcing him to come for the ride. Once in the middle of the ring, Reed hoists Jonny into the air, and locks him into a belly to belly throw, sending Jonny X back into the corner of the ring.]

Tim: Reed sends X to the corner. X is in trouble here...

[X is back up leaning his back onto the corner. Reed charges for X. X manages to push his legs up in the air. Reed misses X. X wraps his legs around Reed's torso and rolls forward for the pinning combination. Referee Chuck Ballard gets into position to count...]

Tim: That's the same move Reed lost to Azure last week...

1...

2...

[Reed manages to kick out.]

Jeff: But only he doesn't lose.

Tim: Reed manages to kick out just in time.

[X quickly gets back up to his feet and pulls Reed up to his feet too. Jonny quickly grabs Jake and tries to whip him off the ropes. Jake reverses, short arming Jonny back and trying a clothesline. X ducks the clothesline, sliding around behind Jake as he does. Jonny uses all his force to push Jake from behind towards the nearby ropes hoping to catch him with something on the rebound. Jake heads right for the ropes but he doesn't hit them, he somehow manages to leap up and springboard back off the middle rope. Jonny sees it and tries to run under the moonsault. Jonny makes it under Jake, but somehow Jake improvises in mid air. Reed extends his arm, grabbing Jonny's head as he flips over him. As Jake lands he pulls Jonny down into a standing inverted facelock in one smooth motion. Jake then quickly hoists Jonny up for what looks to be an inverted brainbuster, but he doesn't pull him all the way over. Instead he hoists Jonny up and onto his shoulder in a sort of running powerslam position. Jake doesn't go for a powerslam though, instead he cradle's Jonny's head and sits down spiking Jonny X on the canvas with the Blue Ridge Bomb (Shoulder mounted side Brainbuster). The fans rise up after that athletic display as Jake makes he cover.]

1...

2...

3!!!

[DING DING DING DING DING]

Nigel Rolsten: The winner of this contest...JAKE REEEEEEEEEEDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!

Tim: The kid has done it. He has FINALLY won his first match here in the HWF...

[Reed's theme begins to blast in the arena sound system. The camera zooms into a happy Jake Reed's face. He looks at the camera and mouth the words "Thanks Dad!" and then winks.]

<center>COMMERCIAL</center>

[Here we are backstage where we focus on a very nervous Lisa Sullivan. It's about five minutes until her big meeting with Chaz Manson to discuss her future with the company. He has warned her not to be late or else...Anyways Lisa looks at her watch and watches her watch tick closer and closer to her meeting time. Then just out of nowhere steps Los Illegales with Emanual Labor riding in his burro and Fantastico and Senor Bagoshit in each side. They stop near Sullivan and Labor hops off his burro. He apparoches Sullivan...]

Emanual Labor: Hola Senorita Sullivan...

[He grabs her hand and kisses it. Then he looks up at her...]

Emanual Labor: Emanual Labor del nuevo equipo, Los Illegales.

Lisa Sullivan: Illegales? You mean Illegal

Emanual Labor: Si somo Los Illegales. Pero no hablamos de esto mas. Vamos A BAILAR!!!

[With that said, Fantastico plays his guitar while Senor Bagoshit places the trumpet mouthpiece in the hole in his bag that corresponds with his mouth and begins to play. They play the song 'La Cucaracha'. Emanual Labor takes Sullivan and the two begin to dance. Well, Labor takes control and begins to lead her close to an open broom closet. Labor then spins Sullivan into the broom closet and quickly closes it. He locks the closet from the outside and puts the key into his trunks. Sullivan can be heard banging the door from the inside but the newest tag team in the HWF, Los Illegales ignore her. Labor then walks up to the camera and gets a close up shot of his face...he yells.]

Emanual Labor: ILLLLLLLLEEEEEEEEEEEEGGGGGGGGGGGAAAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSS!!!!

[After that pointless scream, he walks with his team of merry illegals to their burro. Labor hops on while Bagoshit and Fantastico lead it off out of this corridor. They leave behind a very angry lady locked up in a broom closet, whom by now is late for her very important meeting with Chaz Manson.]

Tim: What the hell was that all about?

Jeff: I don't know but I can say this for sure, Lisa Sullivan has made Chaz Manson a very angry person by being late...

Tim: Well no thanks to those alleged illegal aliens...who are by the way in this building illegaly.

[We now find Dylan in the backstage area of the arena, he has just finished eating a light pre-match snack. He tosses his trash into the can when he feels someone tap him on the shoulder. He quickly turns around and discovers Head Referee Roger Williams standing behind him.]

Dylan: Hey Roger...What's going on?

Roger: Not much. I just wanted to tell you that I happened to catch what went on earlier outside with that fan.

Dylan: Ohh...That jackass!

Roger: Yeah that one. Don't sweat that type of stuff. That is just the sign of a ignorant person with no proper upbringing.

Dylan: I know...I ain't letting it bother me.

Roger: That's good! Show him and everybody that your the bigger man! And I just wanted to also tell you good luck tonight in your match with Chris Champion. It should be one hell of a contest.

Dylan: Thanks Roger...I really appreciate that coming from a guy such as yourself.

Roger: No problem Dylan...You deserve it!

[We cut backstage to what appears to be a wrestlers dressing room. On the floor lies a bag, not yet opened, and next to it, and empty brown paper bag. The camera pans across the room some more and we come across the dishevelled figure of Jon Fuller, slumping against a steel chair whilst clutching a near empty bottle of Jack Daniels in his hand and trying hard not to fall asleep. Suddenly, there's some knocking at the door...]

Voice: Hey, Jon... You in there?

[The door pushes open to reveal the man we saw earlier in the night. One Daniel Marshall.]

Daniel Marshall: Christ Almighty...

[He quickly rushes over to Jon and checks the bottle...]

Daniel Marshall: Fuck me... You've drank all of this?

[Fuller slurs in response, not able to put together a proper sentence...]

Daniel Marshall: Look Jon, it's me... It's Danny. Remember me?

[Jon nods, a weak smile coming across his face in recognition.]

Daniel Marshall: We gotta get you out of here buddy and sobered up. You're in no fit state to be on a wrestling show, that's for sure!

[He pulls Fuller's arm over his shoulder as he tries to lift Jon to his feet. Fuller attempts another swig from the bottle, but Marshall stops him and knocks the bottle to the ground, shattering it.]

Daniel Marshall: Sorry buddy, but no more JD for you...

[He struggles as he leads the dejected former World Champion out of the room and into the corridor, leaving behind his bag and a small pool of Jack Daniels complete with shards of glass...]

<center>COMMERCIAL</center>

[The camera quickly pans deep inside the locker room of one Dylan "The Beast" O'Riley. The current HWF North American champion. Here we find Dylan standing directly in front of what appears to be a full-length mirror. He has his NA strap wrapped firmly around his waist, a towel is flung across his shoulder and both eyes are closed tightly as he stands in front of the mirror rolling his neck from the left to the right, and then from the back to the front. This goes on from several seconds before he finally stops dead in his tracks and opens his eyes ever so widely.]

Dylan: What the hell am I doing here in Lubbock, Texas? What is my purpose in the ring tonight? Why am I even part of this?

[Dylan backs off slightly from the mirror and in the process unlatches his NA strap and replaces the towel with the title across his shoulder.]

Dylan: A victory over Chris Champion.... a rising star in the wrestling world, will give me my first step towards being the greatest fighting NA champion the HWF has ever seen! Sounds simple enough! I guess the only problem in this entire scenario is that I don't have a damn clue what's going through Champions mind right now. One week he making bets with Simon Tyrell, the next weeks he crushing Michael Trey. I guess the smart thing to do would be just go down to the ring, wait for the bell to signal the start of the match and see what happens.

[Dylan glares back into the mirror as he shakes his head up and down in approval at his own comments as the image slowly fades out.]

<CENTER>North American Title Match Dylan O'Riley (c) vs. Chris Champion</CENTER>

It's bugging me,

calling me

and twisting me around

Tim: What's this? New theme music for Champion?

Jeff: Looks that way, Sherlock.

yeah I'm endlessly,

caving in, and turning inside out

Tim: What is it?

Jeff: Some British band, I think. Mude? Nude? Musa? Oh, Muse! That's it! Muse!

I want it NOW!

[Green fireworks electrify the ramp as Chris Champion strolls out to the top of the stage armed with his new theme music - 'Hysteria' by Muse. The fans boo hideously as Chris cracks a smirk and fakes to shake a few hands on his way down the aisle. Champion carefully walks around the ring, up the stairs and steps though the second rope. He bounces off the ropes and stretches a little as he awaits the arrival of his opponent...]

Tim: This is Champion's big moment! England versus Ireland! A battle of the two British cultures for the North American Title!

Jeff: I thought Dylan was from Ohio?!

Tim: He has Irish roots, Jeff... Didn't you ever wonder why he wears that shamrock emblem?

Jeff: Can't say that I have...

[Just then, the house lights beam brightly, then quickly shut off completely as 'Hurdy Gurdy Man' by Donovan begins to blast through the PA system. As the music reaches it's fever pitch, the house lights once again turn back on and are quickly followed by two short mid-sized explosions on either end of the stage that send small yellow mist smoke clouds into the air! The curtains push open and out from the back steps Dylan O'Riley complete with NA Title, quickly taking center stage as he slowly but steadily raises a yellow boa high into the air. After a few seconds, he lowers the boa back down, then gently tosses it around his neck and shoulders...turns and then rushes towards the ring. Wasting no time at all, Dylan slides under the bottom rope as he reaches the squared circle, quickly stands once again at attention...turns and makes his way toward the nearest corner where he climbs to the second turnbuckle...salutes the crowd by once again raising the yellow boa high into the air, then sits on the top turnbuckle and waits for the start of the match.]

Tim: Well, here's the Champ and as we've heard all week from Dylan, he really wants to prove to be one of the greatest North American Champions of all time!

Jeff: Bah, forget that... Dylan wants to prove that he is THE greatest NA Champ of all time, no questions asked! But you can bet he's gonna have his hands full in this Falls Count Anywhere match against Chris Champion!

[Referee Harry Sullivan calls for the bell as this title match officially gets underway and Champion and Dylan lock up for the first time! The Beast is quick to show off his superior strength as he tosses Chris backwards into the turnbuckle! Champion looks across at the Irish man and Dylan growls with anticipation, shouting at the Educator to bring it on!.]

Tim: Dylan's revved up for this one!

Jeff: Well that's all very well and good, but look at Champion... He isn't scared of Dylan!

Tim: Wait. What's Champion doing here?

[Strangely enough, Chris smugly tells Dylan to 'wait there' before clambering outside the ring and dropping to the concrete. As Dylan shares some words with the referee, obviously not too impressed at his opponent's strange actions, Champion proceeds to roll under the ring, grabbing at some kind of object as he does so...]

Tim: What's he got there?

[Champion steps back through the ropes and into the ring, holding something very tightly against his chest. Finally, he shows Dylan what he's carrying...and the rest of the world...much to the Irish man's disgust!]

Tim: Champion's waving the English flag! Dylan looks furious!

Jett: Hahaha! He's one smooth limey bastard!

[Suddenly, Dylan charges across the ring, grabs the flag from Champion and breaks it across his knee! Champion plays up to the crowd as he runs around the ring looking distressed and pointing his finger at O'Riley!] Crowd: Irish! Irish! Irish!

Jeff: O'Riley REALLY shouldn't have done that! He's just pissed off Chris Champion to the extreme!!

[Neither man wastes time in getting things started properly now, obviously both having something to prove tonight! Champion rears back and throws a stiff shot at O'Riley's face to kick things off, but The Beast doesn't budge! Champion tries again, yet Dylan still doesn't react in the slightest. Started to get angered, Champion then rushes back onto the ropes and charges forward, attempting to plow The Beast over with a shoulder block, but to no avail still!!]

Tim: It doesn't look like Champion is getting anywhere with this!

Jeff: He's a smaller guy. He needs to use different tactics if he's gonna take a lardass like Dylan O'Riley down. Attempting to overpower the guy who weighs several pounds more than you rarely works out well.

[Dylan merely stops Champion dead in his tracks and causes him to actually stumble backwards upon impact, before finally leaping into action! He charges the wobbly Chris Champion and connects with a well-placed shoulder block of his own, dropping his opponent right to the mat! This certainly does have its effects on Champion, though it can't keep him down for long as he almost immediately springs back to his feet. However, when he does, he is met by a few hard right hands from O'Riley as the big man backs Champion up into the corner...]

Tim: O'Riley asserts his authority so easily...

Jeff: That he does. I see big things in his future here as the HWF's NA Champion. That is, if he can get past a real Champion tonight.

Tim: If not, I'm sure the two of them will meet once again down the road!

[O'Riley then whips Champion across the ring, slamming him into the opposite turnbuckle. The Beast charges forwards at full throttle, with the intent to squish the life out of his challenger in the early goings of this match. However at the very last second, Chris Champion leaps up onto the second turnbuckle. Then in the same motion jumps off, spinning around in mid-air, and jutting his foot out to nail O'Riley in the face with spin kick of sorts. It connects, hard, and causes O'Riley's course to be severely altered, dropping him down to the mat!]

Tim: Holy smokes! Did you see that!? DID YOU SEE THAT!? Chris Champion showing some amazing innovation right then and there with that amazing move! I've never seen him do that before!

Jeff: That's Eddy for ya'... Always going out of his way to impress us!

Tim: Things weren't looking too good for Chris Champion up until that point, he just couldn't seem to mount any offence against the much bigger Dylan O'Riley... But that just changed everything quickly!

[Champion wastes little time in grabbing Dylan by the hair and leading him upright where he proceeds to chop away at the North American Champion's chest. He then whips him off the ropes and bends over in preparation for a back body drop, but Dylan grabs hold off the ropes and doesn't let go! Angered, Champion rushes forwards, but is met with a back body drop like move from Dylan, sending him up and over the top rope!! Somehow though, the Educator lands on the ring apron and steadies himself...only to have Dylan catch him with a head butt that sends Champion spiraling off into ringside!]

Tim: Devastating blow there!!

Jeff: That's that aggressive streak we've seen in Dylan O'Riley time and time again.

[Dylan steps through the ropes onto the ring apron and watches as Champion clambers back upright...before jumping off and hitting a double axe handle sledge right to the face! Chris tries to crawl away from his opponent, but Dylan stops him, grabbing hold of his foot and then starting to drag Champion back towards him. However, The Educator reaches out and grabs something before turning...and swinging a broken piece of a flagpole straight at Dylan's head!]

Tim: That's not right!!

[Champion quickly takes advantage of Dylan's stunned state as he then threads the pole between Dylan's legs before viciously yanking upwards to bring the flagpole into contact with O'Riley's nether regions!! He then quickly hooks Dylan up, rolling him up in a small package as the referee drops down to make the count...]

1...

2...

But Dylan powers out of the pin attempt!!

Tim: Champion took advantage of the Falls Count Anywhere rules there and nearly walked away with the gold!

[Champion quickly shoots back upright and puts the boots to his downed opponent before taking a moment out to taunt the booing fans!! He then drags Dylan up and gets set to whip him into the nearby steel stairs...only to have Dylan reverse! Champion slams against the steel and clutches his steel before an enraged North American Champion lays into him with a barrage of hard-hitting rights in payback for the low blow from moments ago!!]

Jeff: I hate to say it but Champion's actually the one learning a lesson here... Never mess with a man's goolies in a fight, because you just might find yourself with a pair of ripped testes stuffed up your nose by the end of it!

[Dylan drags Champion up and rolls him back into the ring before following. Champion immediately crawls towards a corner and climbs back to his feet, as Dylan heads towards the corner opposite. He then charges forwards, looking to hit a big splash but instead being met with a forearm to the head, catching Dylan off guard!! O'Riley staggers backwards and turns around, just as Champion pushes himself out of the corner and grabs him by the hair before slamming Dylan into the canvas with a bulldog!!]

Tim: Champion's taking control again!

Jeff: Oh baby! Chrissy's going to do it! Get me a bucket ready! I might just blow my load if we crown a new North American Champion tonight!

Tim: ...

[Champion then runs and bounces off the ropes before connecting with a big leg drop! Dylan's head shakes under the pressure as Chris regains his feet and nods his head to the dismay of thousands of booing wrestling fans. Champion grabs O'Riley's legs and looks for...]

Tim: A figure four leg lock!

[Champion drops down to the canvas and locks in the hold, as Dylan starts to writhe in agony, fighting to free himself before any damage can be done! Meanwhile, Champion tries to apply as much pressure as physically possible, all the while screaming at Dylan to throw in the towel and give up whilst he can still walk! The ref drops down to check on O'Riley, but as he does so, Champion reaches out backwards to grab hold of the bottom rope and force some extra leverage!! He lets go a second before the official turns back around and then goes back to shouting at his opponent to give up! However, Dylan refuses to acknowledge Champion's demands as he draws on the rousing cheers from the crowd, digging deep for the energy to try and turn the hold over!]

Jeff: Looks as if Dylan's trying to use his gut to turn Champion over...

Tim: Will you stop that?! Dylan's not fat... I mean, especially not when compared with the tires you've got around your waist!

Jeff: Hey, you've heard the saying size matters... That's why I get to score with your mom any night I want whilst you have to pay for all those Korean ladyboys to blow you off because your wife's ashamed at the size of her husband's boyhood!

[The crowd are really getting behind the North American Champion now, clapping unison as he edges closer and closer to turning Champion over! Chris goes wide-eyed in disbelief as he tries to stop O'Riley, but there's nothing he can do as The Beast finally turns him over onto his front, reversing the pressure!]

Tim: And now it's Chris Champion who's in a world of hurt!!

Jeff: Yeah but luckily for Champion, he's close to the ropes!!

[Indeed he is as Champion reaches out once again and grabs hold of them to force the break! Dylan let's go but remains on the canvas for a few seconds, whilst The Educator scurries back upright and then quickly works to keep his opponent down with a hail of elbow drops!!]

Jeff: HAH! Champion's right back on top of the action again, cutting Dylan off before he even had a chance to fight back! You've gotta admire that, Tim... You just can't keep a great man like that down!

[Champion takes a few moments to head towards the corner in order to climb the turnbuckle, but with O'Riley still down, he figures he has the time to waste. However, Champion thinks wrong as O'Riley, being the tough mo'fo that he is, is soon back to his knees. He sees where Champion is going and smiles to himself, despite the pain. He then throws himself onto the ropes that connect to the turnbuckle Champion has just climbed to the top of! This causes Chris to slip and fall, crotching himself on the top turnbuckle in a position that has him facing the crowd. Champion's face is nothing but pure agony, whilst Dylan however appears a little bit more pleased with the situation. The Beast then lumbers over to the corner and scales up to the second rope...]

Tim: What is O'Riley doing here?

Jeff: I'm not completely sure, but that phony Irish wannabe has definitely reasserted himself in this match thanks to that cheap tactic.

[Dylan seems to be setting Chris Champion up for something and then, from out of nowhere...he suddenly scoops The Educator onto his shoulders and nails a second rope death valley driver on the befuddled Chris Champion!!]

[The fans once again go nuts.]

Tim: Did you see that!? DID YOU SEE THAT!?

Jeff: I sure did! That the very same move he hit on Alex Sikes a few months back, only the move on Sikes was to the outside of the ring!! This guy's a fuckin' loon!

Tim: Dylan, from out of nowhere, took complete control of this match. There is no way that Chris Champion is going to recover from that move!!

Jeff: Never say never. Prove him wrong, Champion!!

[O'Riley crawls on top and goes for the cover.]

1...

2...

[The fans count along...]

THREE-NO!!

[Champion kicked out at the last second, leaving a very visibly agitated Dylan O'Riley to pound his fist on the canvas.]

Tim: That was a bit too close for comfort!!

Jeff: Try telling that to Chris Champion! On second thought, I think he knows...

[Dylan gets back to his feet now and brings Champion up with him. Standing in the middle of the ring, Dylan then puts Champion into a standing head scissors and lifts both his arms up into the air, indicating a powerbomb is soon to follow. However, Champion quickly jerks the back of his head up violently and causes Dylan another sudden burst of pain in his groinal area!!]

Tim: Chris Champion just cheated AGAIN!

Jeff: It's Falls Count Anywhere... That means anything goes!!

[Champion takes this moment now to bounce off the ropes, charge forward, and nail O'Riley in the chest with another jumping spin kick that causes the big man to lose balance and fall to the mat. Champion then takes what little he has left in him and performs a rolling somersault into a splash which nails its mark right on, after which he immediately goes for a pin attempt of his own...]

1...

2...

KICK OUT!!

[O'Riley kicks out, using everything he has left, which sends Champion flying right up and off of him!! Both men, being completely spent, lay motionless.]

Tim: Chris Champion is really showing his merit here. He's been battered and beaten but he's still going.

Jeff: The same could be said about O'Riley! And O'Riley that cheater is only doing so well because he's avoiding sticking to those little things we call rules here in the HWF.

[Both men continue to lay on the mat for another moment, with Champion the first to stir. He reaches for the ropes and begins to pull himself up whilst meanwhile, Dylan begins to move and pushes himself upright. Champion watches closely and then charges towards him, looking to clothesline him over the top rope! However, Dylan ducks underneath and then lunges forwards with a clothesline of his own, throwing it with such velocity that it sends both men tumbling over the top rope and out of the ring, as the referee quickly follows.]

Tim: The action again spilling to the outside...

Jeff: Here's hoping they don't come over in this direction!!

[Chris Champion uses the guard rail to drag himself up around before turning around to see Dylan O'Riley advancing once again! He begs off, calling for a timeout, but The Beast responds with a stiff right hook!! He then throws another and another, as Champion rocks and reels, the only reason he was still stood up being the guard rail! O'Riley then takes his stunned opponent and lifts him into the air...only to sloppily seat him on top of the railing!! Champion winces in agony as Dylan shouts out to the fans who cheer in response!]

Tim: What could Dylan be planning here?

[He then turns to one lady stood up in the front row and asks if he can borrow her chair for a moment. The woman is only too happy to oblige as she hands the chair over and Dylan rears it backwards...before then SLAMMING it against Champion's head, knocking him off the railing and into the crowd!! The NA Champion hands the chair back and thanks the lady as he climbs over the rail and then goes for the cover, whilst Harry Sullivan follows...]

1...

2...

KICK OUT!!

Tim: I don't know where Champion is getting his energy from, but after that chair shot, I was sure this match was over!!

Jeff: Pur-lease!! Give Eddy some credit here, Timbo... A mere chair shot ain't gonna be enough to put him down!

[Dylan grabs his opponent by the hair and drags him back upright as the fans around them go wild!! He nails The Educator with some nasty looking blows as he leads Champion through the throng of people and then onto the stairs leading up to the exit. Once there, Dylan throws Champion's arm over his shoulder, looking to hit a suplex onto the concrete!]

Jeff: Fight it Chris!!

[And that's exactly what he does, battling back with some knees to the gut before pulling free and then poking Dylan in the eye! The fans around boo loudly as O'Riley staggers down the stairs whilst Champion smirks. He then grabs Dylan by the shoulder, spinning him around right into a kick to the gut before then spiking him onto the concrete floor with a DDT!!]

Tim: O'Riley's head just bounced back up off that concrete with the impact of that move!!

Jeff: There's something in the air, Tim. And for once, it's not your sister's dirty underwear but rather the sweet smell of success!! Eddy's taking home the gold, baby!!

[Champion pauses a moment, shaking off the effects of the chair shot from earlier before then covering Dylan...]

1...

2...

But O'Riley kicks out with a lot of puffing and panting!

Jeff: Disqualify him! He can't kick out!!

Tim: Umm... Weren't you the one pointing out that this is Falls Count Anywhere? Besides, you can't seriously expect someone to get DQ'd for kicking out of a pin attempt?!?

Jeff: Wha... er, who said anything about a DQ? Don't put words into my mouth dammit!

[Starting to get frustrated, Champion turns his ire on Harry Sullivan, demanding he starts counting faster. The referee explains he was counting at regulation speed, but Champion just ignores him as he leads Dylan up, barging past fans as he drags him through the crowd. Champion then snatches a cup of beer from one fan's hand and smashes it down against Dylan's head, splashing alcohol all over the camera lens. As the cameraman wipes it off, the two combatants reach more railing, as Champion launches O'Riley into it, knocking a section of it over and Dylan with it!]

Tim: This brawl is now making it's way over to the area just to the side of the stage, and Champion's firmly back in control...

Jeff: Sssssshhhhh, dammit!! You don't want to jinx him!!

[Chris kicks Dylan off the piece of railing as he then lifts it up and firmly rests it against the side of the stage. He then turns back to face his opponent, taunting him to get back to his feet. Dylan does just that, as Champion then drives his boot into O'Riley's gut and then shouts out, 'Detainer!']

Tim: Champion apparently looking to hit a trademark hanging vertical suplex onto that railing...

Jeff: Smart move by The Educator, as always!

[Champion goes to hoist his larger opponent into the air, but Dylan wraps his boot around Chris' leg, blocking his attempts! The NA Champion then fights back with some blows to the ribs, before then spinning around and then getting set to deliver a suplex of his own! He lifts Champion into the air...but Champion slides out of his grasp and lands behind him!]

Tim: Neither man wants to be thrown on that railing!

Jeff: And can you blame them?!

[Champion then grabs Dylan in a waistlock, apparently looking for a German suplex now!! However, O'Riley AGAIN battles back, this time with some back elbows! He then turns around and swings for a clothesline, but Champion ducks underneath and then hoists him up onto his shoulders..]

Tim: Champion's going for the School's Out!! That Samoan neckbreaker he's been using in recent weeks!!

[However, it's Dylan who slides out of his grasp this time! Before Champion can spin around, Dylan pokes his head under Champion's arm, before then clamping his arms tightly through the legs and around the body! The Beast then lifts Champion up and SLAMS him backwards, causing The Educator to drop down against the railing on his shoulders!!]

Tim: FAMINE BUSTER!! DYLAN HIT THE FAMINE BUSTER!!

Jeff: DAMMIT!! How'd he manage that?!

[The crowd pop loudly, but where as Dylan would usually keep his grip locked in to make the cover, making contact with the railing takes a bit out of him as well! Instead, he shoves Champion off onto the concrete floor next to them before then dropping down on top and hooking both legs...]

1...

2...

3!!!

Tim: And Dylan's done it!! After a hard fought battle, he managed to just beat out Chris Champion and retain the North American Title!!

Jeff: This is bullshit!! Champion's destined to win that title, but he keeps getting the rug pulled out from underneath him every time he gets close! I demand a recount!!

['Hurdy Gurdy Man' kicks in over the PA once again, as Harry Sullivan hands Dylan his belt and raises his arm into the air. The crowd continues to wild as O'Riley clutches the back of his neck and winces whilst dragging himself back to his feet. However, he still has enough energy to move towards the cheering fans, throwing his arms into the air and demanding to know 'Who's the man?', as a devastated Chris Champion punches the floor in frustration, furious at himself for blowing this golden opportunity...]

<center>COMMERCIAL</center>

[Backstage. Shawn Collins is striding down a hallway in typical hallway-striding fashion. He runs a hand through his hair briefly as he walks, seeming a little more jittery than normal. He finally reaches an open area of the arena and -- suddenly -- a slice of pizza goes flying through the air, nearly smacking him in the chest. The camera pans to show Michael Trey, sneering a bit and grabbing another pepperoni. Shawn looks at the slice, and half-smiles. He turns to Trey, and puts a cigarette in his mouth as he walks towards him.]

Shawn Collins: An American businessman goes to Japan on a business trip, but hates Japanese food. After asking around, the concierge at his hotel gives him a number to a pizza place. He goes to his room, orders his pizza, and awaits the delivery. When it gets there, the man takes the pizza, and begins to sneeze uncontrollably. "What did you put on this pizza?" he asked. The delivery man bowed with a confused look on his face. "We put on the pizza exactly what you order," he said.

[Shawn takes a pull on the cig.]

Shawn Collins: Pepper only.

[He finally gets to Trey, and looks at him, blowing smoke in his face.]

Shawn Collins: Honestly, Mike. There are cleaner ways to get my attention. This was just dirty.

Michael Trey: You're right, Shawn. You're so right. I could have just told a joke!

[Trey reaches out and grabs the cigarette out of Collins' mouth, takes a deep drag, and blows smoke in Shawn's face, saying....]

Michael Trey: Or maybe that... you love getting people's attention this way too...

[Shawn grabs the cig from Trey's mouth, looks at it with disgust and puts it out on the ground.]

Shawn Collins: Listen, asshole. We both know where this train is heading. Are you going to play hooky, or are we going to ride the fucker to hell? Because, I'm a little sick of getting off at the same stop all the time.

[Trey opens his arms wide, practically inviting Collins to take a shot right now.]

Michael Trey: Hey, anything I can do to make all your dreams come true, Shawn.

[Michael points with one hand towards the inside of the arena.]

Michael Trey: Never mind that you and I practically built this place together. Forget that... you have forgotten that. You've put that so far behind you that you won't even stick up for the place when it was about to go under. I haven't forgotten, and I won't apologize for calling out your petty selfishness. But let's get one thing straight -- you're the one who's been inexplicably looking to take a shot at me for years.

[Trey brings his hands back together, cracking his knuckles.]

Michael Trey: So if you're ready to get it done...

[With a twist of his head, Shawn gives off a slight smirk. He rubs his chin, turns, and swiftly lands a punch in the middle of Trey's face. He turns and walks out of the room, shaking his head. Trey, visibly in pain from the blow, mutters to himself, hand to his face...]

Michael Trey: ... yeah. Okay. Let's get it done.

[Now we are in Jon Fuller's locker room. He left the arena in such a hurry that he left his belongings behind. Enter into the picture, Los Illgeales. Emanual Labor is still riding his burro while his merry men, Fantastico and Senor Bagoshit open any doors and clear any obstacles for the burro. The burro stops near Jon Fuller's closed bag.]

Emanual Labor: Pepe quieres a cagar. Abra el bolso de Senor Fuller.

[Fantastico opens Jon Fuller's bag. In it there are the usual equipment and on top is a picture of Jon Fuller's dead mother. Emanual Labor directs the burro to park close enough to the bag such the bag is underneath his rear end. Pepe the burro begins to dump his bio waste into Fuller's bag, completely ruining Fuller's photo of his dead mom.]

Emanual Labor: Muy bueno Pepe. Caga mas.

[...more bio waste is dumped into Fuller's bag.]

Emanual Labor: Mas...caga mas.

[...and more bio waste is dumped into Fuller's bag.]

Emanual Labor: Muy bueno Pepe. Tu es un bueno burro. Vamos Seniores, proxima semana en Dallas veremos que dice Senor Fuller de la caca en su bolso.

[With that said, Los Illegales ride out of Fuller's locker room...what will they do next week in Dallas?]

Tim: This is such a disgrace. I don't care if you are legal in this country or not. You don't go disrespecting anyones dead mother like that. This is just sick and disgusting.

<center>COMMERCIAL</center>

<CENTER>MAIN EVENT Steve Sharp vs. SIMON TYRELL</CENTER>

'Stop and listen, as the words of truth fill the void between your ears.'

['Ich Will' by Rammstein starts over the speakers. The arena lights slowly dim down to nothing as a single red spotlight shines on the entranceway. As the song begins to pick up, the lights on the stage begin to flicker. Slowly, Simon walks from the back and steps into the spotlight. The camera zooms into an upper body shot, as Tyrell continues to stand on the ramp, nostrils flaring, and mouth turned up into his well known smirk. Slowly, Tyrell begins his walk to the ring, his duster fluttering slightly behind him. He reaches the ring and ascends the ring steps, stopping once again to look at the crowd and sneer before he enters the ring. Immediately upon entering the ring, Tyrell leans into the near corner for a few seconds, before peeling off his duster and sunglasses. The camera zooms into a shot of Tyrell's dark black eyes as they stare lifelessly ahead, awaiting the beginning of the match.]

Tim: Welcome back ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to tonight’s main event!!

Jeff: Oh man, Tim… This is Silky’s biggest challenge yet since becoming the HWF Champion!!

Tim: Bigger than Cross? Or The Elite?

Jeff: Bigger than the Killer J.O.S.S.!!

Tim: …well, that goes without saying.

Jeff: He’s the Grand Slam Champion!!

[The opening drumstick count off to AC/DC’s “Back in Black” cues up, and the crowd roars as the camera pans the arena, showing fans bearing signs in support of the Hardcore Wrestling Federation World Heavyweight Champion… A ‘Shawn Collins Can Lick My Ass’ t-shirt stretched tight over a heaving bosom seems to gain the most attention…]

Tim: It’s true that Tyrell is a former world champion, and a dominant one at that…

Jeff: But I gotta admit, he’s no Steve Sharp!!

[Sharp struts out from behind the curtain, with his lovely wife and valet, Inferna coming along with him… The camera flashes reflect of Sharp’s brilliant golden title belt.]

Jeff: Oh boy, what I wouldn’t give to wear that for a couple hours…

Tim: Well, Jeff, the new HWF World Heavyweight Title Replica belt will be available just in time for Christmas!!

Jeff: I wasn’t talking about the BELT, Tim!! I was talking about Inferna!! I’d strap her on like a feed bag!!

[Sharp reaches the ring, and Inferna sits on the second rope while he air guitars, playing to the fans, before stepping through the opening, and twirling around, stopping to pose for a moment, then stripping off his title and laying it on his lovely love’s shoulder, kissing her, then kissing his finger tips and patting the strap. He then finally turns to face Tyrell.]

Jeff: She DOES look good with that [I]strap on[/I], doesn’t she Tim?

Tim: Yes, there’s nothing quite so beautiful as a… Damn you, Jeff.

Jeff: HAW HAW!!

[The referee finishes inspecting both men and move for the bell, when Sharp extends an arm, stopping him. Jimmy Jett makes his way down the entrance ramp and similar to last week there’s no music, pyro or flashy lights. Instead he simply has a large piece of white poster board, folded in half and tucked under his left arm. Both Sharp and Tyrell take a second to stare over as Jimmy makes his way over to the commentary booth and has a seat next to Jeff. He unfolds the sign, holding it up for the crowd, but more importantly a specific man in the ring to see. It reads, “I BROKE STEVE’S BELT!” in sloppy black magic marker with a crudely drawn sad face in the bottom right corner.]

Jeff: Hey Jimmy, nice sign.

Jimmy: Thanks, ain’t it witty?

Tim: It’s definitely unique, but if you don’t mind this match is about to begin.

Jimmy: Oh, my bad. Was Jim J causin’ the delay?

[Sharp, smiling bitterly, turns and joins Tyrell and the official in the center of the ring. The referee begins to go over the rules, when suddenly Tyrell explodes forward, knocking Sharp off his pegs with a brutal clothesline!!]

Tim: What in the world?!? The match hasn’t even started yet!!

Jeff: Has now!!

Jimmy: See, that’s what happens when you get old… Senile old coot never saw that comin’!

[The bell rings as Tyrell begins to stomp away at Sharp… Sharp tries to clear his head, but Tyrell moves around to his back and clutches him on either side, nearly by the ears, and hauls him to his feet. Sharp lets out a shocked sound, and Tyrell raises a fist, still clutching Sharp’s head, and brings it crashing down from above, dropping the champion onto his back once more.]

Tim: Tyrell is in TOTAL control right now!! Just dominating off of that surprise attack, keeping Sharp off balance with his incredible strength!!

[Inferna admonishes Tyrell from the outside, but he merely raises a finger to his lips, then turns back to her husband… Only to find him missing?]

Tim: Sharp rolled out quickly while Simon’s back was turned… The mark of a veteran, Sharp ALWAYS knows where he’s at!!

Jeff: Unfortunately, so does Tyrell!!

[The one and only Simon Tyrell Grand Slam Champion lumbers over, reaching down over the top rope and pulling Sharp up onto the apron… Suddenly, however, the wily champion slaps Tyrell’s arms away, turning into him and gripping his head before dropping to his back on the apron, hitting a snapped-off Silk Streem over the top rope, slingshotting the challenger onto his back!! Sharp takes another moment to gather his wits as Inferna checks on him… After reassuring her that everything is alright, he hops up onto the apron, but Tyrell is already up and moving… Simon comes toward Sharp again, but Sharp throws a shoulder through the ropes into his midsection… to no effect!!]

Tim: Whoa!! Sharp was looking for the old shot to the breadbasket set up for a sunset flip, but Tyrell didn’t budge!!

Jeff: He’s just smiling at Silky and wagging his finger!!

Jimmy: Humph…

[Sharp looks shocked for a moment, and the crowd howls at the exchange before Sharp suddenly drops down as Tyrell reaches forward… He holds the top rope and kicks his feet through the space between the bottom and middle rope, kicking out Tyrell’s knee, dropping him onto the rope!! The crowd roars as Sharp stands up and slings himself over the rope, turning his body on the way over, landing across Tyrell’s upper back, guillotining him on the rope again!!]

Tim: Sharp’s got control

Jeff: What a move! Sorry Jimmy, but you had to dig that.

Jimmy: I might have, had I not seen that done two months ago on a tape from Japan.

[Sharp pulls Tyrell to his feet and grabs him by the back of his hair, leaping up and dropping down to his back with his knees curled up. Tyrell’s forehead drives into Sharp’s braced knee as he stumbles back to his feet, collapsing over.]

Jeff: There’s the move Sharp used against you at War Games, Jimmy!

Tim: An…

Jimmy: How long has dude been wearing that thing? I guess it’s easy for Steve to afford all those nice suits seeing how cheap he is in the ring.

[Tyrell rolls to the side, gripping the gash on his forehead as Sharp starts to lay into him with the boots, then hit’s the ropes coming back with a seated dropkick right in his face. Sharp looks out to the roaring fans, then heads to the near corner, hopping up to a seated position on the top… He measures Tyrell, then hops off, coming down knee-first on Tyrell’s unprotected head, bringing forth evil more blood!!]

Tim: Silky with a vertical Sharper Image!

Jimmy: Fuck Silky.

[Tyrell kicks his feet and rolls about for moment, and Sharp takes a moment to adjust his brace, giving a low double bicep pose before rolling Tyrell to his back and going for the cover…]

1...

2...

Tim: Kickout!

Jeff: Sharp is really taking it to Tyrell!

Jimmy: This is nothing compared to what I did at King of Violence.

Tim: Possibly, but you had a golf bag full of weaponry.

Jimmy: Her name… is Nikka Costa and I’d advise you not to talk about her in those terms, because she’s quite the romantic.

Jeff: Romantic?

Jimmy: Yeah, she’ll sweep either one of you right off your feet.

[Sharp looks a little surprised, and a tad annoyed, but merely covers again…]

1...

2...

Tim: And Tyrell kicks out again… Seems as though Sharp’s work isn’t quite finished in there…

Jimmy: Yet another issue the old and feeble have… Staying power!!

Jeff: I dunno, Jimbo… The day a guy is having trouble getting’ it up for Inferna is the day they tag his toe!!

Jimmy: Phhh… Jimmy Jett will be pitchin’ a tent in his BODY BAG!!

[Sharp gets up, pulling Tyrell up by the hair… Tyrell looks furious, seething with rage, but offers little resistance as Sharp puts him in a front chancery, and in a supreme show of will and strength, heaves Tyrell skyward!!]

Crowd: RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGHHHH!!!

Tim: Oh my god!!

[Sharp brings Tyrell crashing down with a brain buster, causing them to bounce high off the mat after his body impacts. Both men lie still for a moment, Sharp still holding onto Tyrell’s head, when he scissors his legs, rolling them over, and begins to bring him up again!!]

Tim: He’s going for it!! I can’t believe he’s attempting it with a guy Tyrell’s size!!

Jimmy: He’s a friggin’ ego maniac, Tim! Of course he’s gotta try it!!

[Sharp heaves, and brings Tyrell overhead a second time, if only for a moment before spiking him down in brutal fashion, Tyrell’s head bouncing off the mat til he sits up before dropping back, Sharp quickly hopping on top…]

Tim: Cover… BY GAWD!!

Jeff: What in the world?

Jimmy: Okay, that even surprised me…

[The moment Sharp’s chest lands on Tyrell’s, he shoves the champion off!! Sharp looks utterly perplexed as his old friend sits up, zombie like, and turns his bloodied face to him…]

Tim: We’ve seen this bizarre reaction from Tyrell before!! Seemingly since his return, he’s seemingly possessed of a darker side!!

Jimmy: Tim, that is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard you say…

[Sharp watches the mammoth rise to his feet before closing the distance, leveling a brutal right hand across his jaw… Tyrell’s head snaps to the side, flicking blood and sweat from his long hair onto the canvas, but the giant stays standing. Sharp stares for a moment in disbelief, then unloads a quick series of punches to the head and body, but his opponent seems all but unfazed before suddenly HEADBUTTING Sharp, knocking him flat on his back!! Sharp blinks his eyes, trying to clear his head… his face has a star-shaped splash of crimson from Tyrell’s own head…]

Jimmy: SHUT DOWN, FUCKER!!

[Tyrell pulls Sharp off the mat and up into the air with a military press. Tyrell pumps Sharp up and down twice before tossing him in the air and stepping forward. Sharp collapses to the mat, bouncing off the mat and onto his stomach. He clutches at his braced knee as Tyrell takes a second to glare out at the crowd.]

Jimmy: You see that? That’s exactly what’s gonna happen to Silky when I get a hold of him.

Tim: Exactly?

Jeff: That’s what the man said!

Tim: Well, I some how doubt that.

Jimmy: Just call the plays, Mr. Armchair.

[Tyrell moves back toward Steve and goes for the cover. 1…2 KICK OUT! Tyrell spots the knee and pulls Steve’s leg up, dropping an elbow. Tyrell drops another and goes to hook the leg when Steve quickly sprawls around and manages to grab the ropes. The referee calls for the break and Tyrell obliges, letting go of the leg. This lasts all of a second, before he grabs both Sharp’s legs and jerks him off the ropes back into the ring with a makeshift powerbomb; Tyrell collapses on top of him and quickly makes a cover. 1…2… KICK OUT!]

Tim: Close call by Sharp! Tyrell threw all his weight into that move.

Jimmy: That chair comfy enough for ya, Tim?

Jeff: Ha!

[Sharp rolls over, clutching his midsection, the wind driven out of him… Tyrell doesn’t allow him to catch his breath, however, pulling him up before locking him in and driving him to the mat with a Side Effect… Tyrell leans his weight onto Sharp’s chest in order to keep him down…]

1...

2...

[Sharp swings his arm up, hard, and crashes it across Tyrell’s nose and eyes to get him off of him…]

Tim: CLOSE call, there…

Jimmy: Only a matter of time…

[Tyrell stands over Sharp, waiting for him to rise, and locks him in a side headlock… Squeezing hard, grinding on the champion’s head. After a moment, Sharp fires off a chopping shot at Tyrell’s liver by hooking a punch up beside his own head… Tyrell coughs a bit, but shakes his head, taunting Sharp’s fans with the show of ‘immunity’ to his blows… Tyrell sees fit to return the favor, however, punching Sharp in the face with his free left hand…]

Tim: BRUTAL closed fist!!

Jimmy: It’s the name of the game, Tim!!

Jeff: Oh, man… This move always makes my EYES hurt!!

[Sharp returns fire, but Tyrell punches him again, and Sharp’s knees seem to go a little weak… Tyrell smiles, and lowers his hand in front of Sharp’s face, pressing a finger to the inside of his thumb, preparing to flick him in the eye… When suddenly, Sharp locks his arms around Tyrell’s waist, and hoists upward, as though going for a side suplex!! Tyrell kicks his feet to throw his balance forward, countering the move… But on a second hoist, Sharp grabs a hold of Tyrell’s near leg, carrying him aloft by it for a moment before dropping to one knee, smashing Tyrell’s shin down, jacking his knee!! Jimmy can be heard loudly yawning from the commentary booth.]

Tim: Impressive move by Sharp and Jett, I really don’t get what your problem with him is, besides jealousy from…

Jimmy: Whoa. Jealousy from what? I’ve heard all the “Jimmy Jett is just Steve Sharp Junior” comments a thousand times. The fact is Silky and I have absolutely zero in common. If you ever say another word about jealousy from my part, Steve Evans will be in your seat in a matter of fucking minutes.

Tim: What’s that supposed to mean?

Jimmy: It’s supposed to mean that it’s hard to call Play by Play with a crushed larynx. What? You think I need Anderson to put your ass in its place? I’m Jim Jett. I know how to treat a bitch when they act up.

[Sharp goes to all fours, catching his breath as Tyrell holds his knee, moaning loudly at his inability to move the leg… Sharp pulls himself up, adjusting his knee brace, and watches as Tyrell begins to right himself… He waits for the opportune moment, then charges off at the ropes, coming back at his victim with breakneck speed… Only to have Tyrell stand, booting him in the face with his wounded leg!!]

Tim: BLUE BLAZES!! He nearly decapitated Sharp with that move!!

Jimmy: If wishes were horses…

Jeff: Silky looks out!!

[Sure enough, the champion looks prime for the taking as Tyrell hoists him up by the neck and wrist… Sharp’s head hangs loose, and Tyrell hurls him toward the ropes… but Sharp puts on the breaks with the help of the ropes, stopping short of Tyrell’s toe kick!! But, unexpectedly, without putting the foot down, Tyrell hops forward on his other leg, and sticks his foot out again, just catching Sharp with the kick!! Silky buckles forward, and Tyrell grabs a hold of him… Sharp struggles, but Tyrell clubs him on the back, having to give up his attempt at the One Minute Silence in favor of the Five Finger Crawl… He locks on the chancery, and hoists Sharp overhead…]

Tim: This could be it!! This brutal suplex to power bomb has dusted off many a foe… And it looks like Tyrell is trying to step toward the ropes!! He’s going to drop him to the outside!!

Jeff: NOOO!!

[Suddenly, as Tyrell takes a step, his battered right knee buckles, and Sharp drops off behind him!! He looks quickly at the downed giant and sees his chance, hitting the far ropes and passing Tyrell… By sheer force of will, Tyrell forces himself to his feet just as Sharp passes, hoping to derail the finisher attempt, but the sheer pain of straightening the injured leg leaves his guard down as Sharp leaps to the second rope, springing off and turning to his left, scissoring his legs and clapping his knee upside Tyrell’s skull!! Sharp lands upside down, and Tyrell drops like a tree in the forest as the crowd roars!!]

Tim: BY GAWD!! SPRINGBOARD SHARPER IMAGE!!

Jeff: Cover!!

1...

2...

3!!!

Jeff: He did it!! He did it!!

[Jimmy stands up, looking pissed off…]

Jimmy: Won’t be so easy for him… Won’t be so easy when he has to fight me…

[The referee raises Sharp’s hand as he breaths heavily, looking out at Jett… Inferna joins him in the ring, and Sharp accepts the title belt from his wife, holding it up as he points at Jett!! Jett throws down his headset, but despite the crowd’s urgings, security keeps Jett from entering the ring, and the referee prevents Sharp from leaving… Both men can still be heard over the house mic and abandoned head set…]

Sharp: You wanna take a shot at me? A swing at THIS belt, huh? Huh punk? You don’t have the balls to get face to face with me!!

Jimmy: I’m not scared, bro… Jimmy Jett’s found scarier things on the bottom of his Pumas!!

Tim: It seems the bad blood between these two, starting with the King of Violence finals was NOT settled with War Games!! Jett still feels he has something to prove against Sharp, and Sharp still wants revenge for the sneak attack prior to Indecent Exposure!! We haven’t seen the last of this rivalry by far!!

[The show fades out to Sharp holding the ropes open for Jett, calling him on while Inferna and Roger Williams try to calm him down, while on the outside, Jett paces back and forth, talking shit and taunting the fans while separated from the ring by a wall of security…]

1998-2004 HWF / Hardcore Productions. All rights

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