Lights out.
Cowbell. Anthem drums.
FRET SLIIIIIIDE
Harmonics!
Is it 1985?
NO! It's THE SHOWDOWN!
And the lights come on to reveal hundreds of screaming fans surrounding the squared circle belonging to...
N A P W!
"Lay my head down
Breathe the dream of darkness on its way
But I'm not afraid
Put my head down
Just believe the scars were worth the pain
Cause I'm not afraid!"
It is Edmonton, Alberta Canada and The Polish Hall is packed to the rafters for an event so big, it can only be called TAGSTRAVAGANZA! The fans have brought signs, some goofballs have dressed up as "The New Crimes", boy, you can't possibly expect us to buy that Static costume, and overall the atmosphere is rowdy and electric! So electric, in fact, that the crowd pops huge as the eighties-inspired metal of The Showdown fades down, only to be replaced by...
"NO ONE'S GOING TO TAKE ME ALIVE! THE TIME HAS COME TO MAKE THINGS RIGHT!"
The bizarre wild-west indie-electro pop stylings of Muse's "Knights of Cydonia" bring out the baddest cowboy in NAPW, the fan-favorite Bruce Richards --- better known as The Beast. He strides out, cutting an epic figure in duster and cowboy hat. He walks towards the ring, turning to head towards the commentary table with Bill Hewson & Jack "Attack" Jones. The Beast takes a seat, fitting on a third headset.
BILL HEWSON: Bill Hewson alongside Jack "Attack" Jones, and it looks like tonight we will be joined by one Bruce "The Beast" Richards! Bruce, welcome to the announce table...
BRUCE RICHARDS: My pleasure, Bill. As a former five-time tag team champion, the office thought I could offer a unique perspective on tonight's event...
JACK JONES: Couldn't you do that from across the building?
BRUCE RICHARDS: Been a long time, Jack Attack.
JACK JONES: Not long enough. We don't need a three-man team for this! Bad enough last week doing it with that chump Rob Martinez.
BILL HEWSON: Will you be serious? One hell of a match-up last week between yourself, Bruce, and the monster Caliban from REBEL Pro. You have to be enjoying the week off after that bloodbath...
The fans are again surprised by new music, this time... familiar bassline, bluesy guitar, raspy vocals. Why, it's "Who Made Who" by AC/DC... There's nobody in NAPW who uses that music.
BILL HEWSON: And somebody is coming through the curtain... oh my gosh! Ladies and gentlemen, can you believe it? TERRY BRANDON has returned to NAPW!
JACK JONES: Manager extraordinaire, former champion, and MY CLOSE PERSONAL FRIEND Terry Brandon! Didn't he manage you at one point, Bruce? Before you got fired by Chris Casino?
BRUCE RICHARDS: I think you're right, Jack, we really do only need a two-man team. I hear they've got a nice bed in the ER waiting.
JACK JONES: Eep!
The crowd gives respectful applause for the legendary Terry Brandon. The man is, as per usual for twenty+ years, is clad in a loud polyester pantsuit, thick horn-rimmed glasses and a horribly clashing tie. He carries the trademark briefcase in his left hand, taking the house microphone from Frank Warburton with his right. The motormouth speaks!
TERRY BRANDON: Well by goddamn it's good to be back here in Edmonton, right in front of real wrestling fans!
A pop for Terry Brandon?
TERRY BRANDON: Now it's been a long time since I was in this ring, managing greats like Chris Casino (Boo), Lobo and of course The New & Improved D-X, by god, it's Bruce Richards sitting right over there! It's been a while! And tonight I am proud to be out here, hosting an event that celebrates not only wrestling, but tag team wrestling! And in front of you NAPW fans who still appreciate real wrestling, the sport of professional wrestling, and all the great teams that have crossed this ring over the past damn nearly two years! Am I right? Teams like THE DUDES! (CHEERS!) The CRIMES! (BOOOOOO!) D-X! THE RAT PACK (BOOOO!) CELTIC ASSASSINS! (CHEER!) THE BI-POLAR EXPRESS! (CHEEERS!) And so many more we just can't keep track of them. The big leagues may have forgotten, but the real wrestling fans haven't, and here in NAPW TAG TEAM wrestling is alive and well, and tonight we WILL crown the top team in this entire sport, because it IS the NAPW that has brought tag team wrestling BACK to the forefront, with the teams I mentioned above and the new teams coming tonight!
The crowd is on their feet! Terry Brandon, can't shut him up, can barely understand a word he's saying at a million miles an hour, but damn, the crowd is eating this up! NAPW! NAPW!
TERRY BRANDON: And that is why I am so privileged to be here tonight, hosting Tagstravaganza II, because you see I was offered a job. And I said, my boy Lobo is on his way to the big leagues, I have no desire to manage. But it wasn't a management job that I was offered! No no! Tonight, I am proud to announce that I am the new acting commissioner of NAPW on behalf of the very busy and very gracious REX CALIBER!
Oh. Well. The uh, goodwill disappears in a hurry. Brandon looks mildly surprised but then carries on like the fans did not change their tone at all.
TERRY BRANDON: So what I pledge to you, the fans, is tonight you will see CLEAN wrestling! No controversial finishes! Just 13 teams vying to become the NAPW tag team champions! There will be no favoritism, no tolerance for cheating, and absolutely no craptacular performers who don't belong on a card anywhere! Thank you for showing up tonight! It's going to be a great card, damn is it great to be back! Thank you NAPW fans! Now bring out the first teams!
With that, Terry hands the mic off and heads out of the ring. He takes an empty seat at the timekeeper's table...
The Devil In The Kitchen - Ashley Macaisaac plays, and the fans pop for a familiar team... The Celtic Assassins!
FRANK WARBURTON: Introducing the first team of the Tagstravaganza gauntlet! From Scotland and Ireland, respectively, they are "The Scottish Wrecking Machine" Al Thoes, "The Irish Adonis" Bobby O'Brady, former NAPW tag team champions the CELTIC ASSASSINS!
BILL HEWSON: The crowd quite happy to see these two men back in NAPW for a match-up, and why shouldn't they be?
BRUCE RICHARDS: The Celtic Assassins won last years Tagstravaganza... and they did it by defeating myself and Kyle Roberts. But drawing the first entry, that's a tough spot. O'Brady and Thoes need to take out their opponents quickly if they have a hope of making it through five other teams to the end of this thing.
FRANK WARBURTON: And their opponents! From Salmon River British Columbia and New Zealand, respectively... Kevin Kodiak and Link Van Haggard!
BRUCE RICHARDS: Be interesting to see what this pairing does.
BILL HEWSON: Well, to the best of my knowledge Kevin Kodiak and this Link Van Haggard have never tagged before in any promotion. But what an NAPW debut it would be for Link Van Haggard to win the NAPW tag team titles!
Kodiak and Haggard get into the ring to a modest pop --- and the Celtic Assassins charge! There's the bell, this is underway. I think I start every fourth match with that exact sentence. In any event (type that often as well), Thoes and O'Brady are two big men, even outmassing the big Kodiak... and decidedly outmassing the 180 pound kiwi Van Haggard. A stern looking O'Brady is slugging it out with Kodiak in one corner while the 290 pound Al Thoes hammers on Van Haggard in the corner. Charging elbow, Van Haggard dodges out of the way and hits a monkey flip on Al Thoes. Thoes is up quickly, charging like a bull, Van Haggard leaps up above him using the ropes and hits a sunset flip for a sudden one, two, Thoes kicks out.
O'Brady and Kodiak have taken their corners as Van Haggard runs off the ropes with a swinging neckbreaker, putting Thoes down. Gets two. Tag into the rough-living Kevin Kodiak. Van Haggard takes a wristlock and walks the top rope, flips off and catches Kodiak with a swinging DDT! And taht means Kevin Kodiak ... is going to the top rope? You're kidding, right? 262 pounds come flying off with a top rope splash to Al Thoes! That's one, two, O'Brady with a boot to the head to save. Ref sends him out, Kodiak picks up Al Thoes and goes for a vertical suplex. Thoes blocks, countering with a POWER suplex. That would be a standard suplex... but performed by a Scotsman. Scots do it better, donchaknow? Okay, back to the match, and it's Al Thoes tagging O'Brady in. O'Brady with stiff boots to Kodiak's head, body slam puts the man down. Leg drop across the face, count only gets two. O'Brady again with stiff, stiff shots. Irish whip, he tries to shoulderblock Kodiak down - nobody moves. Now both men take off, colliding in the center of the ring, THUNK. Full stop, nobody goes down. O'Brady wants a test of strength. Kodiak obliges, oh, boot to the gut by O'Brady. That wasn't fair play there, but O'Brady is suddenly in control, hoisting Kodiak up on his shoulders in a Canadian Backbreaker! Ironic, that move being applied to the dyed in maple Kodiak! Could this be it? Heck no, Link Van Haggard clips O'Brady in the jaw with a crisp dropkick. Kodiak lands on his feet and hits the ropes, O'Brady regains his footing only to get KILLED by the Northern BC Lariat! One, two, O'Brady gets a shoulder up!
Kodiak grabs an armbar and tags in Link Van Haggard! Haggard leaps from the apron to the top rope, springboarding off with the KENTA knee right into O'Brady's face! Stiff! Haggard with a standing moonsault, that gets two before Thoes breaks it up. Haggard is feeling it, the crowd's getting behind this kid here! He sends O'Brady to the ropes, WTF? The sitout spinebuster... not even. O'Brady easily blocks it with his 95 pound weight advantage, driving Haggard down to the mat. Knee strikes to the top of Van Haggard's head! Oh my goodness, O'Brady displaying a mean streak here tonight. He gets off Haggard and climbs to the second turnbuckle, coming off with a brutal double-stomp onto the ribs of Van Haggard. That's got to be all, one, two, th--- kick-out! The kiwi has guts! O'Brady scowls and pump-handles Haggard. The Tam O'Shanterslam, that will be ALL when it hits --- but it doesn't! Link Van Haggard somehow scuttles out of the move and dropkicks O'Brady sternum first into the turnbuckle. School boy! One, two, O'Brady gets out! Big hit from O'Brady kills Haggard dead, and there's a tag to Al Thoes. The Wrecking Machine comes in, double irish whip by Celtic Assassins. Hold on, Kodiak slaps Haggard on the back as he hits the ropes! That's a tag, but the Celts still try to clothesline Haggard... who ducks and zooms right by. Celts look up ---
KOOOOOODIAK!
Kevin Kodiak double-clotheslines the Celtic Assassins! They pick themselves back up, Link Van Haggard flies off the ropes with a springboard moonsault taking down both men! Kodiak sends O'Brady over the top rope, then grabs Al Thoes. Suplex coming up. He's holding him up there... holding him... holding him... wow, HOLDING HIM...
And then Kodiak yells out "TIMMMMMBERRRRR!" before delivering a Jackhammer slam out of the suplex! But he doesn't cover, no! Instead he makes room for Link Van Haggard to come flying off the top rope with a Corkscrew Senton he calls BULLET THE BLUE SKY. Haggard rolls off, Kodiak covers, one, two, th---CRACK.
BILL HEWSON: What the hell? Bobby O'Brady just --- Bobby O'Brady just hit Kodiak with a steel chair! Oh my goodness! O'Brady seemed frustrated by Van Haggard's tenacity, but what's gotten into him?
Van Haggard tries to save CLANG. He goes down... and then O'Brady points at him. Al Thoes looks unsure, but O'Brady unflinchingly hoists up a dazed Van Haggard. Thoes hooks him up, oh no, come off it! O'Brady to the top rope... The Celtic Crusher. Van Haggard has his vertebrae compacted in nasty fashion from that Vertebreaker/double stomp combination. O'Brady double-stomps Kodiak for good measure as the bell rings repeatedly.
FRANK WARBURTON: The Celtic Assassins have been disqualified for their actions... Van Haggard and Kodiak will move on!
BILL HEWSON: Of course they will, but how do they survive four more teams after that assault? I can barely believe we just saw the Celtic Assassins do what... well, they just did. That was brutal!
JACK JONES: Or maybe the Celtic Assassins finally realized that worrying about these fans gets you a one-way ticket to loserville.
O'Brady and Thoes leave, Thoes looking somewhat bereft, O'Brady sour. They're out of Tagstrav and Van Haggard/Kodiak move on...
Pigeonhed kicks up, and the crowd instantly turns to boos as THIS team enters.
BILL HEWSON: They are Jake Phoenix and Donovan Astros, they call themselves the Murder City Devils... Kodiak and Van Haggard could not have gotten a worse team to come in. I mean Van Haggard has barely moved since that attack! The Devils are only going to take advantage of the situation.
JACK JONES: Well of course they are, Hewson. The tag team titles are on the line! You have to take out the opposition as fast as possible so you stay fresh to the end. What's so wrong about the Murder City Devils picking up the pieces?
BRUCE RICHARDS: I hate to say it, but I agree with Jack Attack. It's not right, but the name of the game is "winning." Why give any team a chance to recover? Nobody's going to do that for you.
JACK JONES: Hey, I am NOT --- oh. Oh! Hey, you're not so bad, Richards.
BRUCE RICHARDS: Don't think I'm going to start running bets through you, Jones. You're still slime. And I'm still short-tempered.
JACK JONES: ...eep.
This one is barely going to be a contest. Jake Phoenix is quick to boot Kodiak to the floor, and then it's simple for Donovan Astros to hook the leg of the barely conscious Van Haggard. He counts with his fingers one, two, thr---
No.
No?
NO?!
Astros looks at the referee, slapping his hand one-two-three, but John Sharplin is adamant. Van Haggard got the shoulder up just before three, Celtic Crushee or otherwise. Astros snarls, pulling the man up as Jake Phoenix watches on lazily from the apron. Astros hooks the arms, turns Van Haggard around, Astrocide... Van Haggard gets free! He leaps up high, onto Astros' shoulders, Victory Roll! One! Two! Kick-out! Astros gets out and tries to right hand Haggard, but the man ducks and flies around with a flying crucific pin!
ONE! TWO! TH---
Astros kicks out again, but he can't believe the guts of this kid. Van Haggard looks half-out on his feet, but he's not giving up without a fight! Kevin Kodiak is pulling himself to the ropes, we might have a match. Astros tags in Jake Phoenix, who of course outweighs Van Haggard by 109 pounds. Yeesh. Phoenix goozles Van Haggard and power throws him to the corner, one-handed. Repeated punches in the corner --- Van Haggard crawls between the man's legs! Van Haggard runs to the opposite corner and up to the top rope, MOOOONSAULT --- caught by Phoenix! TOMBSTONE --- Van Haggard kicks his legs like he's swimming and slides out behind! Just like against the Celts, he dropkicks Phoenix, sending the man sternum first into the turnbuckle. Phoenix is unfazed however, and turns around, swatting Haggard's second dropkick away. He picks the man up, hammers him, irish whip, clothesline, flying crucific again by Haggard! Except...
He doesn't get Phoenix over. Samoan Drop by Phoenix squashes Link.
Phoenix tags into Astros, then storms across the ring and big boots Kodiak off the apron. Van Haggard is pulled up by Astros... Phoenix hits the ropes! YAKUZA KICK! GERMAN SUPLEX! What a combination! Astros floats over for a cover, one, two, three!
FRANK WARBURTON: Kevin Kodiak and Link Van Haggard have been eliminated!
BILL HEWSON: What a shame! And after putting up such a fight to stay in this thing.
JACK JONES: Sometimes you can't fight inevitablity, Bill Hewson.
"Farther Away" by Ak Forty, and the fans cheer for...
BILL HEWSON: The team of Jeff James and Dio Muerte! These two put on a HELL of a match last week against the Foundation at the Supershow, and I think they're here to try and steal the show again tonight!
JACK JONES: That may have been their intention, Bill Hewson, but they probably didn't expect to be up against the Murder City Devils right off the bat... no pun intended.
BRUCE RICHARDS: Pun... ?
BILL HEWSON: He thinks he's witty.
James and Muerte hit the ring, with Jeff James sliding in and colliding with Donovan Astros to a huge pop. Fists are a-flying, and James is looking to get the upset win here as quickly as possible! Astros staggers back, James hooks up... SIDE EFFECT. Astros thrashes away from James, who's hot on his tail... but he tags in Jake Phoenix, and that puts a pause in Jeff James' stride. The Career Killer steps into the ring to boos from the crowd, and charges at James, who ducks aside. Both men hit the ropes kiddie corner to each other... Jeff James with a Flying Lariat, and Jake Phoenix with his mean looking Short Arm Clothesline! Both men collide mid-ring! Phoenix scrambles to retake his feet, while James just twitches. Donovan Astros is the only one cheering on The Career Killer as he angrily reaches down and pulls Jeff James up to his feet. He hooks up for a Career Killing Powerslam... but suddenly Jeff James is alive and squirming out! He lands behind Phoenix on his feet, STANDING DROPKICK! Phoenix clutches his spine and staggers forward, but James doesn't let up. Legsweep! CRASH LANDING! The crowd EXPLODES, and Jeff James hooks the leg! One! Two! And Phoenix has a leg on the ropes! Astros quickly hops back up to his corner and looks innocent.
BILL HEWSON: That Donovan Astros! His underhanded tactics snatching a clean victory away from Jeff James.
BRUCE RICHARDS: Underhanded? Yes. Smart tag team play? Absolutely. That kind of teamwork keeps you in the match, long after you should have been beaten.
Of all people it's Terry Brandon who's shouts a warning to Donovan Astros to "Keep it clean!" The crowd has a mixed reaction to that... but Astros shrugs and turns back to the action. Jeff James is helping The Career Killer to his feet, then throws out a toe kick. Phoenix doubles over, and James hits the ropes... only to have Jake Phoenix catch him by NECK with both hands! He snarls, swings around, CHOKESLAM! With authority! The crowd groans and Dio Muerte starts calling for the tag. Phoenix pulls Jeff James to his feet, takes a handful of hair, drives him into a neutral corner, and starts throwing out those big old soup bones. James tries to cover up, but to no avail, Jake Phoenix is simply a more powerful man. Jeff James sags in the corner, Phoenix grabs him by the back of the head and BULLDOG. He turns him over and pins! One! Two! And a kickout at two! Phoenix gives him no quarter. He pulls James up again... forearm from Jeff James! Jake Phoenix, caught off guard, takes it in the abdomen and staggers back, and Jeff James LEAPS into his corner! Dio Muerte gets the tag and rushes the ring, just as Jake Phoenix reaches back and hands off a tag to Donovan Astros! And the fists, they fly! Back and forth action, the crowd chanting the names of the wrestlers as they punch! Muerte! Astros! Muerte! Astros! Muerte! Muerte! Muerte! And he hooks up for the Sitout Powerbomb... but Donovan Astros with a lowblow! The crowd BOOS, but Sharplin doesn't appear to have seen it, and neither, apparently, did Terry Brandon.
Muerte howls, clutching his junk, and Donovan Astros locks up... ASTROLABE! And a hook of the leg! One! Only one. Astros pulls him back to his feet... and applies the Astrolock! Jeff James reaches out as far as he can, but just can't reach Dio Muerte! Muerte howls in pain, but refuses to submit, instead squirming toward his corner... and a tag is made! The crowd explodes again as Astros releases the hold! Jeff James goes to his Jumping Superkick, but Astros ducks aside, and tags back in Jake Phoenix! James is unperturbed and springboards off the ropes for a Flying Body Press, but Phoenix just outright catches him... SIDEWALK SLAM! Good GOD, almighty! The Career Killer HAULS James back to his feet, and a Short Arm Clothesline sends Jeff James literally head over heels, crashing to the mat. The NAPW fans boo, and Muerte reaches out, shouting for another tag, but Phoenix pays them no mind. He sets up Jeff James for the Tombstone... James goes up, but slips out! The crowd cheers, Jeff James hitting the ropes, trying to gain some momentum, only to be KICKED in the face by The Career Killer! James spits high into the air, and starts falling backward, only to have Phoenix catch him by the hair, and pull him back into the setup for his finisher... and TOMBSTONE! One! Two! Three!
FRANK WARBURTON: The team of Jeff James and Dio Muerte has been eliminated!
BILL HEWSON: From the sounds of things, the fans didn't like that. They came in with so much momentum... but in the end, the powerful Jake Phoenix just shut them down. A great showing by James and Muerte, none-the-less, eh guys?
JACK JONES: I don't know what match you were watching, Bill Hewson. Maybe if those garbage wrestlers had some flaming tables it would have been different... but in out and out wrestling, the Murder City Devils will win every time.
BRUCE RICHARDS: I made up some charts the other day to determine what a match between me and Jake Phoenix would be like. Let's just say I'd cherish the opportunity to test myself against the Career Killer at some point.
The crowd is still booing the smug Murder City Devils in the ring, but "My Generation" by Limp Bizkit changes their tone! The NAPW fans cheer as the Bluegrass Mafia, flanked by valet Lovely Lyndsey Valentine, emerges from the curtains!
BILL HEWSON: Uh, oh! For over a month now, these four men have been engaged in a war with one another! Things are about to get ugly!
Jake Phoenix and Donovan Astros look grim. The last two teams have pushed them perhaps a little farther than they wanted, and the wind has been taken out of their sails. Matthew Kurtis, the Angry American, rushes the ring and is a HOUSE OF FIRE! The fans cheer as he lays right into The Career Killer, fists flying! Donovan Astros hits the ring to assist, only to have Matthew Kurtis spin around and hit a HUGE Clothesline From Hell that spills the smaller man over the top rope! Jake Phoenix, staggered, sagging against the ropes, gets a Yakuza Kick that sends him crashing to ringside too! The Angry American is now all alone in the ring, and the NAPW fans are chanting "BGM! BGM! BGM!"
BRUCE RICHARDS: Talk about making an impact!
JACK JONES: For God's sake, Sharplin! Get control in there!
Phoenix scrambles back into the ring, snarling, and lays back into Kurtis! The Angry American takes a few shots, then blocks a right, and HEADBUTTS Jake Phoenix right between the eyes! Phoenix is dazed, and Kurtis locks up his big old Bearhug... no... SPINEBUSTER! The ring SHAKES with the force of the impact. Matthew goes for the pin! One! And Donovan Astros rains down a double axehandle on his back. Sharplin shouts at Astros to get back to his corner, but "The Show" Chad Kurtis has already hit the ring with running Lariat that FLOORS Astros. The fans are going ape! There's bedlam in the ring! The Angry American pulls the Career Killer up, and sets him up... for the BLUEGRASS BOMB! My god the POWER! Phoenix goes up... but starts fighting! He rains down some punches on Matthew Kurtis' head, trying to fight free. Kurtis staggers back a step, struggling... and LYNDSEY VALENTINE goes for the assist! Flying Lariat POWERBOMB!
JACK JONES: No! Get her out of the ring! Foul! Foul!
BILL HEWSON: It looks like we're about to see a repeat of last week!
The Career Killer thrashes in the ring, and Matthew Kurtis gestures for Lyndsey to "Finish this piece of trash!" Lyndsey and Matthew pull the dazed Phoenix to his feet, and a double toe kick bends him over! Valentine locks up for the BLOODY VALENTINE! And Jake Phoenix just powers on out.
BRAINBUSTER! Lyndsey Valentine goes SPLAT on her brain pan.
As the NAPW fans go into BOOING overdrive, Matthew Kurtis' face turns red. Jake Phoenix LUNGES into his corner, and tags in Donovan Astros, who turns white. The Career Killer slides out of the ring, trying to catch his breath as Astros climbs into the ring, but Matt Kurtis isn't even there anymore. He tags his brother on the way out of the ring, eyes flashing, then he CRASHES into Phoenix at ringside, driving Jake's skull into the guardrail and GRINDING it against the cold unforgiving metal! Astros looks perplexed for only about half a second before "The Show" Chad Kurtis hits the Springboard Dropkick! Astros collapses, and Kurtis hits the corner... BEST! MOONSAULT! EVER!
One!
Two!
Kickout at two!
The Show is unperturbed. He pulls up the winded and dazed Donovan Astros, locks up from behind... German Suplex! He rolls through... German Suplex! He's still cinched in tight... Astros shakes his head "No!" GERMAN SUPLEX! And The Show floats over into a pin! One! Two! Kickout AGAIN at two! Now Chad Kurtis is starting to look a little frustrated. He pulls up Astros and sets him up for the CK Finale... but Astros drops to his knees... LOWBLOW! Ooh, not the little Shows! Chad Kurtis drops to one knee, and Astros backpedals, trying to catch his breath. CLANG! Outside the ring, Matthew Kurtis just flung a bleeding Jake Phoenix into the ringsteps. They clatter apart, and The Career Killer crumples. Back in the ring, Astros is trying to regain some momentum. He throws out a middle kick that bends over The Show, and hooks up the arms for the Butterfly Suplex... but it's just not to be. Chad Kurtis powers out with mighty cry, turning the setup into a backslide pin. And another pinfall! One! Two! KICKOUT!
BILL HEWSON: Donovan Astros just REFUSES to stay down for the three count! But does he have anything left to give!?
BRUCE RICHARDS: But both men look spent in there, and there's no partners left to tag in.
Outside of the ring, Matthew Kurtis has been throwing down stiff punches on the crimson-faced Jake Phoenix. He pulls up the Career Killer, grabs him by the back of the head and goes to drive him into the steel ringsteps... but Phoenix blocks! He throws back an elbow into Kurtis' chops. Then another! Matthew Kurtis staggers back, and Phoenix grabs him by the hair and, BONG! Skull meets ringpost! And now it looks like Mattew Kurtis may have been busted open. The Angry American sags against the ring, shaking his head, and turns in time to get a YAKUZA kick right in the head! He collapses at ringside, and Jake Phoenix rises, spitting blood on the ground, and hurls an F-Bomb into the front row at some jeering fans. He pulls Matthew Kurtis up.
BRUCE RICHARDS: What's he think he's doing?
BILL HEWSON: Oh... oh NO, not on the ringsteps!
JACK JONES: HOLY HELL!
CLANG! TOMBSTONE!
Chad Kurtis is back on his feet in the ring, and pulls the limp Donovan Astros back up, oblivious to the carnage outside of the ring. He signals again for the CK Finale, but again Astros pulls free! Donovan Astros takes a step back, then rushes forward for a clothesline... SUPERKICK! Astros' eyes cross, and he falls forward into Kurtis' arms...
CK FINALE!
ONE!
TWO!
THRJAKE PHOENIX WITH THE HUGE SAVE!
BILL HEWSON: NO!
Yes! The Career Killer is high on violence! He roughly takes hold of the dazed Chad Kurtis, sets him up... TOMBSTONE! Sharplin loudly shouts at him to get lost, and Jake Phoenix sneers, retaking his corner... but the damage is done. Donovan Astros crawls over, throws an arm over...
One!
Two!
KICKOUT!
Astros can't believe it! Neither can Phoenix who's spitting mad now in the corner. The Show is slowly trying to pick himself off the ground, but Astros won't let him get the opportunity. There'll be no miracle comeback tonight. ASTROLOCK. Chad Kurtis struggles against it, trying to worm his way to the ropes, refusing the submit. But... the pain must be excruciating! Matthew Kurtis shows no signs of moving outside the ring, unable to make a save. Lyndsey Valentine is at his side, trying to revive him. In the ring, Chad, red faced, is trying to hang on, trying to make it to the ropes! Astros just keeps screaming "TAP! TAP YOU BASTARD!" The seconds feel like minutes... the NAPW fans start chanting "Please don't tap! Please don't tap! Please don't tap!"
And Chad Kurtis doesn't. He passes out. John Sharplin checks the arm, but at this point it's academic.
FRANK WARBURTON: The Bluegrass Mafia has been eliminated.
Donovan Astros has to be pried lose from the limp Chad Kurtis. He's winded, sweating, and looks flustered as he retreats to his corner. The Career Killer is no better, his face smeared with his own blood, his hair matted down. And there's only one team left in the gauntlet.
"Here Comes The Champ."
The fans go into booing overdrive as "LDK" Lloyd Rees and David Banks appear from behind the curtains. Rees is pushing their manager, John Salty, in his wheelchair.
JACK JONES: Here come the champs, Bill Hewson!
BILL HEWSON: I know that Rex Caliber said that he wouldn't play favourites in the NAPW... but I can't help but wonder...
JACK JONES: Rex Caliber is a MAN OF HIS WORD, Hewson! Back me up on this, Richards!
BRUCE RICHARDS: ...
Lloyd Rees makes a point to give Bruce Richards a thumbs up as he passes by ringside and deposits Salty near their corner. Astros, in the ring, is watching the Champs grimly. Banks and Rees make a full circle of the ring... then both slide in and it. Is. ON! As Astros buckles under the dual assault, Phoenix rushes the ring, clotheslining Lloyd Rees... to a VERY mixed reaction!
BILL HEWSON: Did I just hear CHEERS for the Career Killer!?
Astros tries to fight his way free of Banks... CROSSFACE! Astros flails, and catches the ropes, and the referee shouts down at Banks to release his hold. Banks does so, and Donovan Astros rolls out of the ring. Rees is back on his feet, and the Career Killer tries to throw another clothesline at him, but Rees sidesteps... DDT FROM THE GREEN! He goes to pin -- clearly things have broken down here -- but only gets a two count thanks to Donovan Astros leaping back into the fray! He pulls LDK up... BUTTERFLY SUPLEX! Rees bounce across the ring, and Astros turns as Jake Phoenix rolls out of the ring... David Banks! He catches hold of Astros, hits the corner... SUPERPLEX! And a cover! One! Two! Foot on the ropes! Thanks Jake! And another unusual cheer from the crowd!
The Career Killer looks a little weirded out by that, but climbs up into his corner, and Rees does the same in his. In the ring, Banks and Astros appear to be the legal men now, and Astros is in bad shape. He tries to make a tag to Jake, but Banks grabs him by the head, pulls him around... Vertical Suplex! He rolls through, still hooked in... Vertical Suplex! He rolls through again... and Astros drops to his knees for another stealthy LOWBLOW! Banks howls and calls foul, but no one seems to have seen it. He lunges to Lloyd Rees, and LDK gets the tag, rushing in and stomping Astros before he can make it to his corner... and then locks in the Lance Cove Leglock! Donovan Astros HOWLS and claws at his hair... but refuses to give in! The fans are on their feet, chanting "Please don't tap! Please don't tap!" again! Jake Phoenix reaches out as far as he can... but he just... can't... quite... reach! Astros tries to crawl toward him, but Rees shakes his head, planting himself and no giving him any room to move. Astros looks spent... this could be it... he reaches up one last time, desperation on his face... and his fingers touch Phoenix. Ref sees it.
HOT TAG!
The Career Killer's Short Arm Clothesline nearly beheads Rees, who releases Astros as he goes down. Donovan rolls out of the ring to safety, while David Banks crashes the ring, only to be met by Jake's fist. Banks staggers, and Phoenix turns around in time to pop a rising LDK in the chops too! Back and forth, The Career Killer throws jabs out at the two tag champs! Rees! Banks! Rees! Banks! Rees! Banks! Rees! An a HUGE Clothesline spills David Banks to ringside! There's actually a fair number of cheers from the fans, and the bloody Jake Phoenix again seems bemused by that. He pulls up Lloyd Rees for that Career Killer POWERSLAM! Rees rolls to his corner and tags up to David Banks, who hits the ring running only to be LEVELLED by Jake Phoenix. He then pulls the Tag Champ up, and HURLS him into the MCD corner, tagging back in Donovan Astros. Can you count to five? Boot, boot, boot, boot, boot! And Jake Phoenix climbs out of the ring, while Donovan Astros grabs the ropes for leverage and steps on David Banks' neck. Sharplin gets to a count of four, and Astros releases the choke. He pulls Banks up... AZTECAN SUPLEX! Banks skips over the mat and thrashes a bit, then turns and starts crawling to the Crime corner, but Astros shuts him down with a running kick to the back of the head that earns him a cheer from about half the crowd. Astros smirks, puzzled, but shrugs and pulls David Banks up into the Astrolock, the move that made Chad Kurtis pass out not minutes earlier! Banks cries out in agony... but he manages to catch hold of the ropes, thanks to some assistance from John Salty.
Sharplin warns the wheelchair bound man away, but Astros is forced to release the hold. He pulls David Banks back toward his corner and tags back in Jake Phoenix. The Career Killer takes hold of Banks... and gets a thumb in the eye! He staggers back, swearing loudly, and reaches out to try and catch hold of Banks... but he's made it to his corner and tagged in LDK! Rees leaps up top... FRESHWATER FLIP! Jake Phoenix is levelled, and Rees goes for the pin! One! Two! And a kickout at two. The Provincial Champion is all business. He goes to lock in the Lance Cove Leglock again... but Phoenix starts kick at him, and backpedals all the way to the Devils' corner. He tags back in Donovan Astros to another surprising cheer. Astros locks up with Rees immediately, and both men start jockeying for position. Astros manages to catch hold of Rees arms, but Rees twists around, and catches his waist, only to have Astros break free and catch and arm, pulling Rees into a Hammerlock. Rees winces, but manages to twist free of that too, trying to catch a free leg. Astros dances back, keeping away from LDK, and smirking... only to have John Salty catch his leg at ringside!
BILL HEWSON: NO! Someone get that snake away from there!
JACK JONES: How dare you talk about a cripple that way, Bill Hewson!
The referee didn't catch it, but Astros turns and swears down at the wheelchair bound manager, who shrugs innocently. Donovan turns back in time to get a face full of Flying Lariat, and he goes up and over the ropes, landing hard at ringside. Phoenix snarls and hops down, helping him up. The Murder City Devils take a second to regroup, while Rees smugly looks on from the ring. Astros turns and shoots an angry glare at John Salty, who's wheeling himself back toward the Crime corner, then looks down at his feet...
To where a steel chair was dropped by a Celtic Assassin on his way to the back.
Astros grabs it and slides back into the ring, and Rees wisely backpedals away from him... Terry Brandon is suddenly up and rushing to ringside, shouting foul... and John Sharplin takes the chair clean out of his hands shouting "No!"
JACK JONES: Damn straight! No cheating! No foreign objects! You tell him Terry!
BILL HEWSON: I have to admit that Terry Brandon appears to... wait... he's just THROWN HIS BRIEFCASE TO LLOYD REES! WHAT THE HELL!?
Brandon is suddenly all up in Sharplin's face about keeping some order in the ring, and Astros turns... CLANG! That steel briefcase careens off his skull and Astros spits into the air, twirls, and falls into Rees' waiting arms. LDK chucks the briefcase over the ropes... NISH J DROP! David Banks crosses the ring in four steps, and baseball slides Jake Phoenix off the apron, just as Brandon shouts for Shaplin to keep an eye on the match! Lloyd Rees with the cover as paper cups and popcorn containers start raining the ring!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
FRANK WARBURTON: Ladies and gentlemen! The winners of the first gauntlet, who will be going on to compete for the NAPW TAG TEAM TITLES later tonight... the team of DAVID BANKS and "LDK" LLOYD REES!
"BULLSHIT! BULLSHIT! BULLSHIT!"
BILL HEWSON: These fans aren't happy Jack Jones... and NEITHER AM I! What about playing FAIR!? What about no FAVOURITISM!? REX CALIBER has STACKED THE DECK in favour of his ALLIES! He's already turned the biggest night for Tag Team Wrestling in the NAPW into a... into a SHAM!
JACK JONES: I don't know what the hell you're talking about Bill Hewson! Terry Brandon did exactly what he promised. He levelled the playing field! Donovan Astros brought in a chair, so he gave Lloyd Rees an equivalent advantage. Perfectly reasonable as I see it. Come on, Richards, you agree, right?
BRUCE RICHARDS: ...
It's only the first match of the night... and already Tagstravaganza II is rife with controversy. Rees and Bank, with John Salty in tow, quickly beat a hasty retreat with garbage raining down on them from the front row all the way up the ramp. In the ring, the Murder City Devils are livid. Or, at least, Jake Phoenix is. Donovan Astros looks pretty out of it, hanging in a corner, shaking his head and asking what happened. The Career Killer is right in John Sharplin's face, but the referee assures him that he saw nothing untoward. One thing's for sure... as far as Jake Phoenix is concerned, this will NOT go unanswered.
JACK JONES: Anyways, so then, Gary's got the rat down his pats, and ---
BILL HEWSON: That story isn't appropriate for children. Wait, did I say children? I meant ANYONE.
JACK JONES: Really? I keep my pants on in this one.
BRUCE RICHARDS: Oh thank God.
FRANK WARBURTON: Laaaaadies and gentlemennnnnn! The following tag-team match is scheduled for ONE FALL! Making their way to the ring, weighing in at a combined weight of four hundred and eighty pounds, "Risky Business" Ricky Berneo and...MISTERRRRRR SLIIIIIIIIIICK!
"Fight The Power" by Public Enemy hits the speakers and the two men come out from behind the curtain and into the spotlight to a chorus of boos, but with a few chuckles mixed in. Mr. Slick is shouting "Am Da Man!" over and over again, while Berneo nearly trips on his way up the ring steps. Frank Warburton is grinning from ear to ear, trying not to laugh.
BILL HEWSON: Is it just me or did Frank play this up a little more than he usually does for this kind of match?
JACK JONES: Are you kidding! It's the re-debut of the night, Hewson! Mister Slick was one of the best things that ever happened to this company! He was the greatest TV Champion in NAPW history!
BILL HEWSON: What about The Yellow Chicken?
BRUCE RICHARDS: Or Uzi, The Kosher Assassin?
BILL HEWSON: Two-Time TV Champion Jeff James?
BRUCE RICHARDS: THREE-Time TV Champion Don Travelli?
JACK JONES: NO! Hacks, the lot of them! MR. SLICK IS THE GREATEST TV CHAMPION!
BRUCE RICHARDS: Well, I'll say this for the guy: he's got good taste in music.
JACK JONES: Wow, what "great insight" from the Tag Team Expert! Why don't you talk about wrestling for once?
The lights dim a little and two spotlights converge on the curtain.
FRANK WARBURTON: And their opponents! Weighing in at three! Hundred! And sixty! Pounds! Accompanied to the ring by Shadow, Fido, and THE BEEEEE! They are Nenji and Turancula! The AWESOME! WRESTLING! eXPLOSION!
Cue the crunchy guitars! The audience is bobbing their heads along to the sweet sounds of OK GO, as AWX simply EXPLODES from the back, to a few cheers, and boy, are they lapping it up! They take their sweet time making their way down to the ring, Nenji and Turancula high-fiving every single fan in the front row, and The Bee running ahead of them and throwing confetti into the air when he isn't frozen to the ground, vibrating with excitement. Shadow looks a little disappointed but he holds his head high and soaks up the adoration.
BILL HEWSON: Say what you will about AWX, but you know they just love this business. Look at them out there! You'd think they were the main event at Wrestlemania the way they're carrying on.
BRUCE RICHARDS: Slick and Berneo have a decisive weight advantage over AWX, Hewson, but if heart has anything to do with it, I think AWX has a decent shot in this match.
JACK JONES: Are you kidding me? Look at this group of freaks. They look like rejects from Jackass!
The Bee struggles mightily to hold the ropes open for his teammates in AWX, while Shadow takes Fido from Turancula and the two exchange a handshake before Turancula and Nenji enter the ring. Shadow gives Fido to The Bee, who stands feet spread apart, protecting the tiny dog with his life. Referee John Sharplin stands in the center of the ring, awaiting the bell, and it looks like Turancula and "Risky Business" will be starting off the match for their respective sides.
Turancula stares bug-eyed at Bernero, and extends his hand, but Bernero ignores it and clotheslines Turancula! Questionable behavior from the young rookie, but maybe hanging out with Mr. Slick for the past week, doing GOD KNOWS WHAT, has had a bad influence on him. The bell rings and the match is on! Berneo leaps on Turancula, applying an arm bar, but the Latino sensation shimmies his way over to the ropes and grabs a hold for the rope break. Bernero backs off, letting Turancula get to his feet, then leaps at his opponent with a , who drops to the floor! Berneo gets a crotch full of ring ropes for his trouble, and Turancula pops back to his feet and pulls his opponent out of the tangle he's gotten himself into, lifts him up...GUT BUSTER! Turancula goes for the cover, but Mr. Slick runs in and breaks it up at two with a boot to the back of the head. Sharplin rustles Mr. Slick back to his corner, and now Bernero has the advantage. He scrambles to the top turnbuckle and lets fly with a corkscrew moonsault, and connects! Now it's his turn for a pin attempt, one, two, Turancula kicks out at two point five! Bernero lifts a woozy Turancula to his feet, and goes for a chop--BLOCKED! Somehow Turancula got his arm up in time! He goes again for a chop--BLOCKED AGAIN! Turancula lifts his head and now those googly eyes are locked on to "Risky Business"! One more chop from Bernero--BLOCKED YET AGAIN! And now it's a chop from Turancula, and it connects! Bernero connects! Turancula! Bernero! Turancula! Turancula!! TURANCULA!!! Three chops and Bernero is looking a little shaky on his feet! Turancula locks up with the bigger opponent, and says "Hey Ricky? Bye-bye!" POWERSLAMMED! Here's the cover, one, two, Mr. SLICK AGAIN! He kicks Turancula in the side to break up the pin, and rushes back to his corner before Sharplin could get his hands on him!
BRUCE RICHARDS: Exactly the kind of behavior one would come to expect from Mr. Slick. He's the kind of guy who would sell his own grandma to a dog food company for a win.
JACK JONES: That's right. Like a true CHAMPION.
Sharplin is giving a lecture to Mr. Slick in the corner of the ring as Turancula tags in Nenji. The two men lay out Bernero with a double suplex, and Turancula goes back to the corner, giving an excited Fido a pat on the head. Nenji is much smaller than Bernero, but he uses his speed to his advantage, unleashing a combination of kicks and chops that he must have learned from some secret ninja clan, then he finishes off with a spinning heel kick! Bernero goes down, and the crowd cheers! Nenji plays it up to the crowd, who suddenly starts booing! Nenji looks hurt, not knowing what he's done to earn the audience's disdain, but it's not him they're booing! IT'S MR. SLICK'S DOUBLE! The double was hiding under the ring the whole time, and he flattens Nenji with a clothesline to the back of the head! Both legal men are down on the ground, and now the double is calling Mr. Slick in to the ring to finish off Nenji! But Mr. Slick begs off, holding his hands up in the air. Now it's the double's turn to look confused, as Mr. Slick points and shouts "Behind you!" The double turns around AND GETS AN EYE FULL OF SHOVEL! Shadow smacks the double in the face with his shovel, and proceeds to pull him out of the ring. He takes another swing at the double, who hightails it for the back.
With both men down, John Sharplin starts a double count out! One! Two! Three! Four! Five! Ricky Bernero is crawling to his corner! Six! Seven! Nenji's getting to his feet, straining to reach Turancula's outstretched hand! Eight! Bernero tags in Mr. Slick! Mr. Slick runs out and grabs Nenji's leg, pulling him away from his partner, but before he can do anything, Nenji flips onto his back and kicks out with both feet! Mr. Slick falls back to his corner, bumping Bernero off the corner and onto the ground! Nenji gets to his feet, and squares off with Mr. Slick. He may be down one hundred and seven pounds, but like a one-legged dog, he's got the heart of a champion! He hits Mr. Slick with a Discus Punch, but Mr. Slick comes right back and locks up with Nenji, throwing him across the ring with a belly-to-belly suplex! Mr. Slick goes in for the cover, but Nenji kicks out at two! Mr. Slick gets angry, and lifts Nenji to his feet, trying to lock up again, but Nenji reverses it and turns Mr. Slick around, then follows it up with a bulldog! Mr. Slick is on the ground, crouched over in pain, and Nenji turns him over for the pin, but Mr. Slick punches him in the face! Nenji crumples, holding his face, and...is he bleeding! Mr. Slick throws something to the outside!
BILL HEWSON: OH MY GOD! Not the brass knuckles!
JACK JONES: Mr. Slick's just using his legal connection to the brass knuckles factory to his advantage! I don't see anything wrong with that.
BRUCE RICHARDS: Mr. Slick is pulling out all two of his old tricks but will they be enough to put away AWX?
Mr. Slick smiles sadistically and goes in for the cover! One, two, thre---KICKOUT! SOMEHOW NENJI KICKS OUT! YOU'RE GONNA MAKE IT, LI'L BRUDDER! Mr. Slick is stunned! He gets to his feet and hauls Nenji up, but it's at this time that Ricky Bernero finally makes it up from the apron and climbs into the ring. He starts arguing with Mr. Slick, gesturing up at the top turnbuckle, but Mr. Slick shakes his head. "Holy Rolling Hell!" shouts Bernero. "No, man, Hard DDT!" The two men start arguing, and John Sharplin rustles Bernero back to his corner, and Mr. Slick turns his attentions back to Nenji--MYSTIC SIDE KICK! A last-ditch effort from Nenji and Mr. Slick falls to the ground, all the air knocked out of him! AWX realizes that Sharplin still has his hands full with Bernero, and The Bee leaps into Shadow's arms. Shadow boosts him up to Turancula, who hurls him onto a prone Mr. Slick! "FEEL MY STING!" The Bee bounces off of Mr. Slick and rolls through right under the ring ropes! Bernero is gesturing frantically towards the ring, and Sharplin turns around in time to see Nenji get the cover!
One!
JACK JONES: No!
Two! Bernero runs in to try and break up the pin!
JACK JONES: Yes!!
But he's too late! THREE!
JACK JONES: NOOOOO!
FRANK WARBURTON: Your winners! Nenji and Turancula: AWESOME WRESTLING eXPLOSION!
The crowd goes gaga for the four little engines that could, as "Risky Business" Ricky Bernero helps Mr. Slick to his feet and to the back.
JACK JONES: Mr. Slick was robbed!
BRUCE RICHARDS: I don't know, Jones. AWX showed grit, determination, and teamwork, something that Bernero and Mr. Slick seemed to be lacking. I think the best team won this match.
BILL HEWSON: I agree with Bruce, Jack Attack. Besides, AWX had one thing that their opponents didn't...
JACK JONES: If you say heart, I'm going to vomit.
BILL HEWSON: Heart.
BRUCE RICHARDS: Can we get a bucket over here for Mr. Jones?
JACK JONES: ... and that's why I'm not allowed at Universal Studios, Florida anymore.
BRUCE RICHARDS: ...
BILL HEWSON: I didn't know an animatronic Jaws could feel pain...
JACK JONES: Fortunately, I'm not banned from Universal Studios, HOLLYWOOD, so I'm going there this summer baby!
BRUCE RICHARDS: Can we just get to the match? Please? Hewson, do you have ANY control over things here?
BILL HEWSON: *sighs* He talks, I shake my head. Or require counseling. For 16 months now.
FRANK WARBURTON: This next match is scheduled for one fall....
"Shipping Up to Boston" by The Dropkick Murphys hits the speakers and the crowd is as silent as mourners at a funeral.
FRANK WARBURTON: Coming to the ring first, he weighs in tonight at 238 pounds, He comes to us from Kilkenny, Ireland and now calls Boston Mass his home...."The Revolution" Jude Costigan!!!
"The Revolution" comes out from the back to massive indifference from the crowd. He tries to get some cheap heat from the folks at ringside but they ain't buyin' what he's sellin'.
"Money Talks" by AC/DC replaces Costgans music and the crowd is instantly energized!
FRANK WARBURTON: And his opponent, he hails from Seattle, Washington and weighs in tonight at 235 pounds...Ca$h!!!
Ca$h comes out to a great reaction from the crowd and quickly makes his way down to ringside. The camera zooms in on a fan holding a sign that reads "Ca$h + Title Shot = Money!"
The referee calls for the bell and "The Revolution" jumps Ca$h from behind! Ca$h is backed into a corner by a flurry of punches and chops by Jude Costigan. Jude drives a back elbow into the head of Ca$h that snaps his head back. Ca$h hits a vicious chop across the chest of Jude that echoes through the arena. Another chop! Then a third! Jude is being backed across the ring. A fourth chop leaves Jude clutching his chest. A poke to the eyes from a desperate Costigan stops the momentum of Ca$h. Jude scoops up Ca$h and slams his hard to the mat. Ca$h quickly rolls over and gets to his feet just as Costigan nails him with a running kneelift to the head! Costigan goes for a pin but Ca$h kicks out at one. A legdrop across the chest of Ca$h leaves him gasping for breath.
JACK JONES: Ha! Ca$h is getting the money kicked out him!
BRUCE RICHARDS: What does that even mean?
JACK JONES: I dunno, I'll be quiet now.
Costigan is going to the tope rope and takes flight with a diving headbutt! Ca$h rolls out of the way and Jude eats canvas! Costigan is getting to his feet when Ca$h hooks him from behind and hits a German suplex! Costigan is taken up for another! Ca$h nails the hat trick of rolling German suplexes. The fans are going crazy as Ca$h goes for a cover. One. Two. Jude kicks out! Ca$h is already to his feet and ascending to the top turnbuckle. Elbow drop from the top rope! Ca$h points to the crowd and they all know what's coming. Ca$h pulls Costigan to his feet and hits his Midas Touch! Cover! One! Two! Three!
FRANK WARBURTON: Your winner by pinfall, Ca$h!!!
BILL HEWSON: Just like that it's over! A nice win for Ca$h!
JACK JONES: Yeah I...Oh wait can I talk?
BRUCE RICHARDS: No you can't. Like Bill says it was a good win for the newcomer.
Jude rolls out of the ring holding his head as Ca$h celebrates his win. Then from nowhere two men slide into the ring and jump Ca$h from behind!
BILL HEWSON: It's The Crimes! Lloyd Rees and Banks are putting the boots to Ca$h! This must because Ca$h turned down Rex Calibers offer this past weekend!
Rees slams the Provincial Title into the face of Ca$h dropping him to the mat! Banks quickly locks Ca$h into his Charismatic Crossface and cranks on the pressure! The crowd pops as they see Bruce "The Beast" Richards stand up from his announce table.
BILL HEWSON: It looks like Bruce is going to put an end to this mugging!
But suddenly Rees spots Bruce and...Gives him a thumbs up! Banks releases his crossface and the two men roll out of the ring as Bruce stands at the announce table and watches on.
BILL HEWSON: Wait...Bruce, we all know Rex Caliber has had meetings with you... are you actually on his side? Are you with the New Crimes?
BRUCE RICHARDS: ... believe what you like.
JACK JONES: (whispering) Don't make him angry, he's sitting closer to me than to you.
BILL HEWSON: What a crazy night this has been, and we're not even halfway through.
FRANK WARBURTON: It is now time for the second TAGSTRAVAGANZA gauntlet of the evening!
"I am the man, baby, that's what I am... I'm a straight-shooter with the master plan!"
FRANK WARBURTON: Introducing first, from REBEL Pro Wrestling... the team of Mike "The Assman" Trey and former five-time NAPW Tag Team Champion Stylin' Kyle Roberts!
BILL HEWSON: Former five-time champion with the man sitting right beside me... you sir, Bruce Richards! What are your thoughts seeing your former partner entering Tagstravaganza after the way he turned his back on you and this promotion?
BRUCE RICHARDS: I have to say, I'm surprised Kyle entered this match-up. The last time I checked he wanted nothing to do with NAPW or its fans... In his mind, he believes he "carried" our team. Maybe he's trying to make a statement to the world here, maybe he's realized that he can't make it on his own. Mike Trey can do better than Kyle Roberts.
JACK JONES: I disagree with you, Richards. Kyle Roberts never would have lost the NAPW tag team titles if he'd had a better partner --- ulp!
BRUCE RICHARDS: You're not a bleeder, are you? I just bought this shirt.
BILL HEWSON: Easy, Bruce. Jack, remember: Think about what you want to say BEFORE you say it.
Mixed reaction for this team. Mike Trey, certainly known better as THE ASSMAN, is getting a huge reaction --- amplified whenever he obliges the crowd by giving them a wiggle. However, Stylin' Kyle can't help but get boos, not from this crowd he's insulted and demeaned time and again. He stops near the ring and cocks the wink and gun at The Beast. The camera gets a shot of The Beast shaking his head slightly, sighing. Roberts and The Assman hit the ring. "Ladies & Gentlemen" by Saliva kicks up then to bring out the next team.
FRANK WARBURTON: And their opponents, the team of Jared Cypress and Raiyn!
BILL HEWSON: A relatively unknown team to NAPW fans, we'll see what they can do tonight. There's the bell and we're off!
Stylin' Kyle Roberts and Raiyn to start off. The crowd, however, knows what they want to see. "ASS-MAN! ASS-MAN!" they chant. Kyle Roberts looks like he's going to give the crowd what they want, no, he's not. Kyle fingers the fans instead of tagging in Assman, who rolls his eyes on the apron... and the proceeds to shake his moneymaker, causing fainting in the front amongst the womenfolk. And possibly one dude. Anyways, Kyle Roberts ties up with Raiyn, jockeying for position, Kyle Roberts wins and sends the man to the ropes --- tilt-a-whirl backbreaker! Out of nowhere, then Kyle drops an elbow onto Raiyn's throat. Cover gets two, Raiyn able to tag out to Jared Cypress. He rushes in, caught by Roberts with a Moose Jaw Driver! Kyle Roberts is almost wrestling this tag match on his own. This should be all, Raiyn able to break it up.
Roberts this time does tag in The Assman! Cypress thrown into the corner as The Assman runs at him and flips over, landing on his feet, then monkey flips the man! Cypress tumbles into his corner where he's tagged in once again by Raiyn. The man rushes, falling prey to a drop-toe hold. Assman grabs the head and uses the ropes to deliver a spinning bulldog. Then? Yeah. Wiggle. Tag into Stylin' Kyle Roberts, Assman delivers the ASSCRACKER to Raiyn! Kyle Roberts quickly grabs the legs, turning his man over into the Bear-Tamer! Cypress tries to save, Assman is there to intercept --- ASSassination! Roberts figuring to break Raiyn in half, the man has no choice but to tap the hell out.
FRANK WARBURTON: Raiyn & Jared Cypress have been eliminated!
BRUCE RICHARDS: We'll be hearing about that submission for years now, I'm sure.
JACK JONES: I thought you were above such professional jealously, Richards. Luckily for Assman, he has Stylin' Kyle to carry the team to victory.
BILL HEWSON: The newcomers didn't last too long, now! Who's next for Roberts and Assman?
AKForty is next. AK Forty? That means it's time for THE FOUNDATION.
The REBEL tag team champions THE FOUNDATION. Yeah.
BILL HEWSON: Business, as they say, is about to pick up. Prince Darko and Thomas Young, the REBEL tag team champions.
JACK JONES: Wouldn't it be something if they leave here tonight the champions of both promotions? Nobody has held a REBEL and NAPW title at the same time!
BILL HEWSON: The Foundation have, however, had their problems with Kyle Roberts in the past, although that was during the D-X days. That was some time ago... things have clearly changed for The Foundation.
One thing hasn't, the fans loathing of them. The REBEL tag champs, accompanied by Mr. B, are in no rush to get to the ring, all cool, like they goofing in biology class or something. Darko, of the wild fro and bizarre ring-get up, Young in his jeans with his long hair. They step into the ring, holding the REBEL tag straps up. "Hey Roberts, where's your REBEL gold? Oh right." Crowd, disliking three-fourths of the men in the ring, begin to chant again.
"ASS-MAN, ASS-MAN!"
And with that, it is Mike Trey and Prince Darko going at it. Darko takes Assman to the corner, clean break? Hell no. Big chop by Darko. Another chop, then an irish whip. Assman reverses, Darko sent to the turnbuckle, he slingshots overtop of a charging Assman... who himself stops short. Darko lands on the canvas, Assman grabs him from behind for a big back suplex. All nice. Assman with a snapmare takeover, followed by a Curt Hennig style rolling neck snap. The quick first match there barely took anything out of the Assman. He tags in Kyle Roberts as Darko tags in Thomas Young. They go! Young and Roberts tie-up, trying to gain the advantage here. Neither man seems to have a strength advantage, so close in size. They break... back to the tie-up. No, eye gouge... by both men! Kyle Roberts and Thomas Young with the same idea, they both took it. Roberts with a wild swing, ducked by Young who starts firing away right hands. He backs Roberts into the ropes, ref wants a break, irish whip does so and Young buries the knee right into Robert's breadbasket.
Young with a handful of hair tags back into Stylin' Kyle, and The Foundation deliver a double suplex to the man. Darko floats over for one, two, Roberts with a clear kick-out. Darko spits on The Assman, who rushes into the ring, only to be stopped by the referee. With the ref's back turned, Darko throws Kyle on the bottom rope and begins choking him out. Crowd boos. Yeesh. Where are we, Toronto? They should be cheering Kyle Roberts getting beat down. But The Foundation are jerks too. Jerks. Anyways. The referee turns around and asks what was going on, letting Darko know what's what. Darko says "peace man" ... and subtly turns the ref around so his back is to the ropes. Mr. B grabs Kyle and hangs off him, choking him on that bottom rope! Assman yelling for the ref to turn around, but when he does, all he sees is Kyle Roberts still hanging limply over the bottom rope. Roberts coughs violently, clearly roughed up by that. And now Darko goes straight to a blatant choke hold, earning a five count. He breaks before the ref hits five. He has til five, referee. Darko didn't say that, I'm just reminding you, the reader. HE HAS TIL FIVE. Darko tags in Young, they bridge Kyle! Phase 2, the Benjamin/Haas stretched leap-frog. This isn't looking good for Stylin' Kyle Roberts as Thomas Young hooks the man in his cross knee-lock. Submission? Maybe, maybe not, but The Assman wasn't going to take a chance. He breaks the hold, then gets escorted out by the refeee. Darko comes in - no tag made - and The Foundation wishbone Roberts' legs. Ooh. Well, it's not like we WANTED Kyle to propogate, but there are more humane ways!
Darko throws some right hands, again Kyle into the ropes. Irish whip --- reversed! Reversed again, Darko with TCS. ONE! TWO! Kick-out! Darko swears, then tags in Young again. Darko boots Kyle in the gut, leaving him easy prey for Thomas Young to hit with the DEAD END powerbomb! Oh man, he nailed it! Hooks the leg ONE, TWO, THRSAVE by THE ASSMAN! Assman back to the ring apron, begins clapping his hands! Stomping his feet! Rallying the crowd behind his partner... and shockingly, perhaps only because they want to see Assman win this thing, they begin to chant!
"LET'S GO KYLE, LET'S GO! LET'S GO KYLE, LET'S GO!"
Yeah. WTF. Young Kyle with a headlock, but Roberts begins to get his second wind. Elbow one, two, three, he breaks free! Young grabs him again though, back suplex, Young Cutter? Roberts turns it over in mid-air and lands on the man for one, two, kick-out, KYLE ROBERTS MAKES THE TAG! ASSMAN IS A HOUSEAFAR ---
Eh?
The referee is telling Assman to get back... because he never saw the tag, being distracted by Mr. B! Crowd shits all over that, but that means Kyle is stuck in the ring and gets clotheslined down by Young. Darko tags in, and The Foundation looks for GAME OVER. Darko hooks up a full-nelson as Young hits the ropes... Kyle ducks! Young boots Darko in the mush! Young turns around into a Styleskick! Everrrrrybody's down! Crowd stomping! Kyle --- MAKES THE TAG!
It's not funny, my ASS IS ON FIRE.
ASSMAN CLEANING HOUSE! Neckbreaker! Neckbreaker! Armdrag! Armdrag! This is how it goes, kiddies! Young gets caught --- ASSCRACKER! He's not the legal man, but that's a-ok with Assman, because he's going for Prince Darko! Assassination --- Darko elbows the man in the head, wait a minute! The Effect STO! That takes Assman down, but he turns around into Stylin' Kyle Roberts booting him in the gut. POLAR-IZER! LIONSAULT! Assman hooks the leg!
ONE! TWO! THREE---
Young saves!
Stylin' Kyle grabs Thomas Young, pounding on him! Meanwhile The Assman is placed on the top rope by Prince Darko. Darko looking for something... Assman fighting his way out of it! Kyle hits the ropes MR. B! Lowbridge! Kyle spills out to the concrete the hard way! The Assman flips out behind Darko, then puts him on the top rope for a top rope ASSCRACKER, Thomas Young grabs Assman by the back instead and SLAMS him into the canvas. The back of the man's head snaps forwards as Prince Darko comes off the top rope with Just Perfection! He covers one, two, threeKICKOUT! Darko can't believe it! Neither can Thomas Young! Darko angrily boots Assman in the gut, however, and hooks the arms for a Zamunda Driver. He covers and Assman doesn't have anything left as the count registers one, two, three. Kyle Roberts is halfway through the ropes for a save, but it's too late.
FRANK WARBURTON: Kyle Roberts and The Assman have been eliminated!
JACK JONES: You can't try to win it on your own, Assman!
BILL HEWSON: Kyle's shot at becoming six-time NAPW tag team champions, without The Beast, has come up short, but a tremendous effort from he and The Assman against the REBEL tag champs!
BRUCE RICHARDS: I'd have to say it's been a while since Kyle's been in a tag match, gents. I'm surprised he isn't styleskicking Assman into next Tuesday for taking the pinfall though. Oh well, at least he can't cry about his partner not saving him in time with this result.
BILL HEWSON: The split of D-X was certainly messy... who's next?
Who's next? Well, if Paradise City is any indication, it's WARREN AND THE CRUSHER! They rush to the ring, blitzing past Stylin' Kyle and The Assman, sliding into the ring and ROCKING The Foundation immediately! Holy carponi! The 7-11 posterboy Warren with a swinging neckbreaker on Prince Darko! The Crusher with a powerslam on Thomas Young! And now he... gorilla presses Warren over his head? The Crusher tosses his partner on top of both Foundation members as they're getting to their feet! They catch Warren, however, but that means The Crusher can charge in and sort of spear the entire lot of them! warren is covering... both Foundation members! ONE! TWO! Kick-out, doubly. Warren sends Thomas Young to the outside, do we even have a legal man? WAIT A MINUTE! WATCH OUT FOR WARREN!
SUPER BIG GULP SSP TO THE OUTSIDE!
Oh.
Thomas Young moved. Warren... well, lands flat on the concrete with nothing to break his fall. Ouch. In the ring...
SPEARSPEARSPEAR!
THE CRUSHER HAS DARKO PINNED! ONE! TWO! THREE---
YOUNG FROM BEHIND! MAKES THE SAVE! Young with SHADES OF DEATH! He picks Crusher up, Darko with the Full Nelson, here comes Young, it's GAME OVER, man, GAME OVER! Young hooks the leg and it's an academic three-count on Crusher.
FRANK WARBURTON: The Crusher and Warren have been eliminated!
BILL HEWSON: Tough break for these young kids, but Warren... I think Warren might be hurt here, that Shooting Star Press hit nothing but concrete.
BRUCE RICHARDS: The kid has a lot of guts, I'll give him that. Not necessarily a lot of brains.
BILL HEWSON: Must be all the preservatives. We have a couple officials down here, they're helping Warren up... this crowd giving him and Crusher a nice ovation. But The Foundation have won two in a row. Can they do what the Murder City Devils did earlier tonight and win three in a row?
JACK JONES: Can they? They sure as hell can! Unless the next team is Chris Casino and Sebastien Martyr!
Wait for it. Waaaaait for it...
"Got to party hard, got to party hard!"
OH NOES. ANDREW WK HAS JOINED NAPW? NOOOO --- oh, wait. That's just the theme music. The theme music of ...
BILL FLEMING: They are Mystic Ninja and The Expositioner, together known as Mystic Exposition! You certainly have a bit of history with these former Gastown Wrestling tag team champions, Bruce.
BRUCE RICHARDS: I prefer not to talk about the entire Gastown Wrestling tag belt debacle. Still, Ninja and Expo are two quality wrestlers and decent human beings. They've got the experience in tag competition to go far, but not the experience on the bigger NAPW stage.
Nonetheless, Mystic Ninja and Expositioner slide into the ring, and are immediately set upon by The Foundation. Former tag champs, current tag champs, all competing for the NAPW Tag Team titles! Young and Darko showing their own tag experience, and of course their hatefulness. Young stuns Ninja and then The Foundation double clothesline Expositioner over the top rope. That leaves Mystic Ninja allllll alone with two of the most violent men in REBEL Pro Wrestling! They throw big shots into Mystic Ninja's head, then Darko hoists Ninja up... Young comes off the ropes! Cutter! Wait a minute, that was 3D! This could be over quickly, sorry Gastown ---
Kick-out!
The Foundation shrug and continue to double-team, ignoring the referee's warning. Double-irish whip, double clothesline, Ninja ducks under the clothesline! Front handspring, back rebound off the ropes Tajiri style into double flying back elbows to the Foundation! Darko and Young stumble, not down... "X-TRACTION!" Expositioner shouts and flies from the top rope! Crossbody takes out both members of The Foundation, Expo covers Thomas Young for a two count. The referee finally gets some order, it's Expositioner vs Thomas Young in the ring. Expositioner stomps his foot and throws right hands in perfect sync, having mastered the secret power of secret eating. Wait, what? Expo tags in Mystic Ninja, Expo holding Young wide open for Ninja to deliver a kick to the exposed ribs. Ninja knows martial arts! HIIII-YAAAA! Young gets karate chopped! Kick! Punch! It's all in the mind! If you want to test me, I'm sure you'll find... Chop! Block! Ninja is... well, UNLOADING on Thomas Young with rapid-fire martial arts strikes and kicks, Young trying to cover up in the corner. Referee calls for a break, gets a clean break, Young sticks his thumb in Ninja's eye. Booo. Young with a stiff forearm, then tags into Prince Darko. Back suplex by Thomas Young, Prince Darko then turns his man over... Zamunda choke! The camel clutch sleeper! Will Ninja tap out? Or even pass out? Crowd isn't sure what to do with Mystic Exposition, but they'd love to see The Foundation eliminated. Wait! Ninja is moving... moving... to the ropes... hes going to make it SNAP. Thomas Young into the ring with a seated big boot right to the man's face whilst in the Z. Choke. Ref sends Young out, but Darko is in firm control. Hammers him down. Ninja tries to fight back! Shut down by a toe-kick, Darko gets some run... nails the Running DDT. Cover gets one, two, nothin' doing. Kick-out by Mystic Ninja. But it's another tag into Thomas Young. He hooks the man up, saying it's over. Follow Through! He follows through on the pump-handle slam, and then... oh no!
HOLLYWOOD DEATHLOCK!
Mystic Ninja is in agony! The leglock cloverleaf! Will he tap out? Young yells out "ASK HIM!" Referee asks him! "No no no!" He shakes the head. Expositioner on the outside tries to rally his partner, clapping his hands... and the crowd responds. The crowd is clapping, trying to give Mystic Ninja the energy he needs to make the ropes or break the hold! Can Ninja hear them through the pain? And... and... HE MAKES THE ROPES! The hold has to be broken, Young holding on for one, two, three, four, breaks before the five count. Young stomps on Mystic Ninja before picking him up. YOUNG CUTTER --- Ninja flips out at the top, landing on his feet behind Thomas Young! Thrust kick! Young staggered, Ninja hits the ropes and flies --- Young swoops behind the man and locks on the Sleeper hold. Young with six inches over Mystic Ninja, putting all his weight on top of the man... and Ninja is fading.
Fading.
RISING!
Fading.
Faaaaading...
"NINJA! NINJA RAP! NINJA! NINJA... RAP! NINJA! NINJA...RAP!"
THE CROWD IS GOING CRAZY! COME ON NINJA! Even if Vanilla Ice is apparently leading the chant!
The referee grabs the arm of Mystic Ninja and lifts it up. It drops once. Referee raises the arm again...
It drops twice.
The referee raises the arm again, if it drops this time, this is over. He lifts it. Ninja's arm dropssssnnnnnNNNOOO! Ninja's arm is shaking! He's fighting! The crowd is feeding him with energy! Expo is yelling "COME ON! ALL YOU NEED TO DO IS THROW THREE ELBOWS INTO HIS CHEST!" Thanks, Expo, we couldn't see that's what he was doing. ELBOW! ELBOW! ELBOW! Ninja is free! No! Young grabs him by the hair! Slams him down! Tag into Prince Darko, who climbs to the top rope... JUST PERFECTION ...
Perfectly HITS EMPTY CANVAS.
NINJA TAGS IN THE EXPOSITIONER!!!
Darko is on his feet, and that means he gets CLOTHESLINE! Young rushes back in BIG BOOT is ducked, The Expositioner kicks Young into the ropes. "NEXT X-IT!" Oh my, Expo leaps over the top rope and hotshots Young's throat right across it, Expo landing on his knees. And then he leaps to the top rope and flies off! "X-POUND" he yells as he Thesz Presses Darko to a thunderous ovation! Rightrightrightright... HANDS. Expositioner gets up off of Darko. Young is out on the outside with Mr. B trying to help him up, leaving Darko all alone with Expositioner. He tags Mystic Ninja back in, and the Ninja goes to the top rope... SHURIKEN PRESS! SHOOTING STAR SENTON! HE COVERS! ONE! TWO! TH---Darko somehow kicks out! Never count the REBEL tag champs out! Ninja then locks in... THE MYSTIC CROSSFACE! Right in the center of the ring! Crowd begging for Darko to tap out. TAAAAP OUT! TAAAP OUT!
...Thomas Young makes the save! He blasts Ninja in the back of the head with a big boot. Expositioner tries to come in, Young big boots him off the ring apron to the outside. Oh no. Young grabs up Ninja by the hair, Darko throws the full-nelson on him. GAME OVER --- KABLAM. Game over man, game over! Darko covers Ninja for the academic three-count.
...
KICK-OUT?
NINJA IS ALIVE!!!
The crowd can't believe it! The Foundation can't believe it! Hell, even the referee can't believe it! But Mystic Ninja has the WILL OF A WARRIOR! Not the will of a housewife or schoolmarm, but WILL OF A WARRIOR! The Foundation says "FUCK THIS." It's time for ... oh no. Good Night. On the bottom turnbuckle. No no no! Annnnd... EXPOSITIONER! Yes yes yes! Expositioner with a REVERSE HURACANRANA on Thomas Young, holy crap! Young's head cracks into the canvas and he's down! Expo claps Ninja on the chest to revive him, and the two double hip-toss Young over the top rope to the floor below! That leaves Prince Darko all alone... and suddenly, Mystic and Expo are on opposing turnbuckles! In unison, they shout out "X-TERMINATE!"
STEREO MISSILE DROPKICKS!
DARKO IS KICKED!
NINJA HOOKS THE LEG ONE, TWO, HERE COMES YOUNG, THREE!!!
FRANK WARBURTON: The Foundation have been eliminated!
BILL HEWSON: CAN YOU CALL IT AN UPSET? THE REBEL TAG CHAMPS HAVE BEEN ELIMINATED BY... Mystic Exposition! What a huge, huge impact they have made!
JACK JONES: How did that happen? How was that possible? NOBODY kicks out of Game Over!
BRUCE RICHARDS: Nobody except Mystic Ninja!
BILL HEWSON: So ends The Foundation's dream of holding NAPW and REBEL tag titles... Mystic Exposition with the upset pinfall.
BRUCE RICHARDS: That was a hell of a contest, gentlemen... but I wonder how much Mystic Exposition have left after how much energy they put into that one. Especially since only two teams remain in this gauntlet.
BILL HEWSON: Who will it be?
Who?
Who indeed.
"Smooth."
JACK JONES: Yes. Yes! YES, HAHA!
BILL HEWSON: And it is the team... of Malicious Intent, or so they've named themselves. Sebastien Martyr, the man who sent Tommy Deathrow to the hospital by tossing him off a damn balcony! And one of the most decorated, hated men in NAPW history... Chris Casino
BRUCE RICHARDS: Mystic Exposition better have more miracles in their bag of tricks against a FRESH Casino and Martyr team. Like them or hate them - and I'm not a fan of either man - we're not talking about two men to be taken lightly.
JACK JONES: I couldn't agree with you more, Richards. Chris Casino is a Grand Slam champion in NAPW, one of only TWO ever, and Sebastien Martyr has taken the mantle of the sickest son of a bitch on the planet from Tommy Chumprow, and ---
BRUCE RICHARDS: My ass doesn't need kissing, Jones.
Raul Havok is of course behind them, the returned manager to Casino. Casino and Martyr come to the ring, slowly, each wearing a different kind of smirk. Casino's, arrogant and cocky. Martyr's is equally arrogant, but marked by a sadistic curl to his lips. Malicious Intent circle the ring as Mystic Exposition ready themselves in the center of the ring. The crowd is booing, but there is something in the air.
It's magic.
Mystic Ninja and Expositioner, your magic touched me.
Casino and Martyr look around, disgusted, even surprised as huge, roaring chants of "MYSTIC, EXPO, CLAP-CLAP-CLAPCLAPCLAP!" echo throughout The Polish Hall, the net result of six-hundred plus wrestling fans cheering their hearts out. Mystic Ninja and Expositioner stand back to back, watching their opponents, in fighting stances... but you can't deny the grin spreading across Expositioner's unmasked lower face, or the twinkling in Ninja's eyes.
BRUCE RICHARDS: Wow.
BILL HEWSON: This is something else entirely... this is unbelievable! This crowd believes... AND HERE WE GO!
Casino and Martyr each step through the ropes and step in to their opponents. DOUBLE DROP-TOE HOLD! NINJA AND EXPO DROP EACH MAN! Ninja and Expo circle around behind as Casino is up on all fours, hand to his nose, a look of disgust on his face. Again. Marty's lips are straight. They get to their feet and each rush a man, catching them in the corners. Casino unloading with some old school Ric Flair style right hands on Mystic Ninja, Martyr opting for the new school knife-edge chops on Expositioner. Casino looks over his shoulder, yelling at Martyr. They whip Ninja and Expo into one another ... no! Ninja counters and sends Chris Casino for the run! "X-POUND!" Expo crashes Casino with the Lou Thesz Press and FISTSOFAAARRRR! Martyr blinks, then rushes in MYSTIC CROSSFACE! TAKEN RIGHT DOWN! TAP OUT YOU SON OF A BITCH! NINJA WRENCHING BACK! And Expositioner...
"X-TRACTION!"
He's got his own submission hold locked in on Chris Casino! Casino and Martyr are a head apart from one another, each man in agonizing pain! The crowd is thundering! TAP TAP TAP! Who's the legal man? WHO CARES? Martyr looks to tap! Casino looks to tap! They each raise their hands... and... and...
NO.
Casino and Martyr actually lock fingers to prevent tapping. BFF! It's both brilliant and cute! Their knuckles strain as they doubt crush one another's hand in pain, but both men regain their focus... Casino gets a foot on the ropes! And... Martyr does the same thing. The referee calls a break on both men, but Mystic Ninja and The Expositioner have shown that YES, they can indeed HANG WITH THE BIG BOYS. And they're not going to be done yet, for they decide to pick on Chris Casino for double-teams. Expositioner with a hiiiigh back body drop puts Casino down to the canvas again, Ninja hits the ropes, and... hiiiigh back body drop to Ninja? Yes, and he lands on Casino with a senton splash after getting the boost from Expo! Ninja covers! ONE! TWO! Kick-out! Martyr is in a corner, Expo as well, as Mystic Ninja unleashes lethal martial arts kicks on Casino. Lethal.
LETHAL.
Echo Base! Casino snarls and well, throws a tantrum. He slaps the top ropes, yells at the referee, and basically freaks out. Then he looks at Ninja, throwing a mocking laugh his way. "Oh yeah, I got it. COBRA KAI!" And yes. Casino does indeed strike the "Karate Kid" pose. Ninja responds calmly, simply taking a traditional martial arts stance. Except, he motions with his outstreched hand for Chris Casino to... as they say...
Bring it.
Casino says "OH THAT'S IT, YOU CHUMPMONKEY!" He rushes in at Mystic Ninja for his Running STO, but Ninja counters it, arm twist, hook kick! Casino tries to throw a forearm in the face, again swatted away, and Ninja responds by pretty much tagging Casino on the ass with a swift boot. Not particularly "ninja", but it works dammit. Casino stomps over to his corner and tags in Martyr with some heat. He's had enough of Mystic Ninja. Martyr gets in the ring, but Ninja waggles a finger to Sebastien. "I've had my fun." Tag Expositioner!
Expositioner and Sebastien Marty now meet in the middle of the ring. They tie-up, Martyr taking control with a rake of the eyes. He takes the knees out and gets behind Expo, hooking his fingers into the man's mouth and pulling on the cheeks. "AAAARGH!" Referee gives the one, two, three, four, Martyr lets go at five. He grabs Expositioner by the hair and hauls him up, irish whip into the short-arm clothesline, countered, Ninja with the X-Planation flying crucifix bomb! Kaboom! Martyr sits up, but gets put right back down by a seated dropkick to the face. Cover gets one, two, Casino breaks it up. And Casino is clearly sick of these guys, he's stomping the hell out of Expositioner! Here comes Mystic Ninja! Ninja into the ring after Chris Casino, oh my gosh! The two spill out of the ring! Meanwhile in the ring, Expositioner and Martyr are back up. Martyr irish whips his man into the corner, reversed AGAIN. The Expositioner has all the answers! And now he climbs up on Sebastien Martyr... ten punch countalong?
Ten punch countalong.
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten! Expo jumps down as Martyr walks one, two, three steps and flops right on his face. And then, quick as a cat on crack, Expo is up to the top rope! And would ya believe it?
X. Marks the SPOT.
Expositioner covers, one, two, three----
Chris Casino with the save! He suddenly has Expo up and BRAINBUSTER. Where's Mystic Ninja? On the outside holding his throat, Casino dropped him throat first across the guard rail. Casino slaps Martyr on the shoulder, telling him to suck it up, and then pulls Expositioner up by the hair. Casino measures Expositioner... SUPERKICK! And in the second before Expositioner collapses, Martyr rushes in with DARK DAZE! That's going to be all! The cover! THE ONE! THE TWO! THE THREE ---
Expositioner gets the shoulder up.
EXPOSITIONER GETS THE SHOULDER UP.
BILL HEWSON: DO YOU BELIEVE IN MIRACLES? DO YOU BELIEVE NOW, JACK ATTACK?
The crowd is going absolutely, positively ORANGE CRUSH. Or maybe even... GRAPE CRUSH. Casino and Martyr are looking at each other, saying, what the hell do we have to do here? WHO ARE THESE GUYS? Wait! Mystic Ninja is on the ring apron, rubbing his throat. Casino comes over to pop him off ... and screams as Ninja lifts up his face-mask just enough to spray DEADLY GREEN MIST into Chris' face! Casino drops down in pain as Martyr turns around at the sound. Ninja springboards off the top rope and into the ring for a huracanrana on Martyr! He grabs Expo, and says "IT IS TIME." Expo climbs! Ninja climbs! X-Termination TWO coming up! Martyr is getting to his feet, dazed... Wait a minute! Chris Casino in his blind fury crashes the top rope, and Expositioner gets crotched! Ninja flies off with his drop-kick anyways --- Martyr sidesteps and swats Ninja down. Ninja takes his feet, toe-kick, Martyr... THE SACRIFICE! He spikes Ninja on his head. Just for good measure he charges Expo and knocks him off the top rope to the outside below. But no cover for Ninja, Martyr applies MORPHEUS! The rear naked choke applied! Ninja is trying to hold out! The crowd is chanting "PLEASE DON'T TAP! PLEASE DON'T TAP!"
Ninja makes an effort for the ropes... he reaches out...
But it's been too much. Too much damage. He taps the canvas, and the referee calls the bell.
FRANK WARBURTON: Mystic Exposition has been eliminated!
JACK JONES: Darn, fresh out of miracles.
BILL HEWSON: And this crowd has literally deflated. Somehow, someway, these underdogs had two of the top wrestlers on the PLANET on the ropes.
JACK JONES: And in the end it wasn't enough, because Chris Casino and Sebastien Martyr are that damn good. And nobody, not your Mystic Exposition, not your Assman, not your Bluegrass Mafia, can beat them here tonight!
BRUCE RICHARDS: Of course, Jones, there's still one team for Casino & Martyr to face.
JACK JONES: Eh?
BILL HEWSON: Bruce is right... and there's only ONE TEAM it could POSSIBLY BE!
The crowd gives Mystic Exposition an ovation as they exit, Casino and Martyr regrouping. Raul Havok has grabbed a water bottle and is washing the green mist out of Casino's eyes.
Oh.
"PATH."
BILL HEWSON: SIMPLY BEAUTIFUL... AND RAVAGERRRR!
BRUCE RICHARDS: Oh, now THIS should be good...
SB and Ravager BLAST into the ring! Casino and Martyr meet them, SB blocks Casino's punch and fires with his own! Ravager blocks Martyr's punches and fires with HEADBUTTS! Which aren't blocked, you see. Because they have FACE POWER.
And wait a minute, SB is yelling to Ravager! Ravager irish whips Martyr his way SEXYKICK! HOLY HELL! Casino is brought up as well, HE EATS SEXYKICK! And both heels tumble to the outside... they regroup, wait a minute, Casino and Martyr... they're picking each other up, Havok trying to get them up, and Casino waves a hand. He's done with this! Enough! Malicious Intent is leaving?
Uh-uh. Ravager and SB won't take the win that way! They slide out under the apron and chase their foes up the aisleway, attacking. Ravager lariats Casino over the guardrail and follows in, they're in the fans! Simply Beautiful is giving it to Martyr, irish whip back to the ringside, Martyr's back hits the corner. SB throws some forearm shivers his way and then irish whips Martyr into the ring steps --- Reversed! SB hits the ring steps thigh-first and spins over, crashing onto the concrete. In the crowd, Ravager is continuing his stalking of Chris Casino, who is dumping over chairs, trying to throw fans in his way, anything to slow down Ravager's relentless path of annihilation. However, right now in the ring, we have a rematch of the Sole Survivor final moments! Sebastien Martyr DDTs SB on the concrete, sitting up with a satisfied expression on his face. He shrugs hair out of his eyes and rolls his man into the ring, where he hits a cover for one, two, only two. Meanwhile, Ravager has finally caught up to Casino and is pounding him into a pulp! Low blow! Wait a minute! Casino has a steel chair! CRACK! To the back of the NAPW Champion! And another chair shot, Casino drops the chair and then slumps back into a still-standing chair, wiping his forehead.
In the ring we go. Martyr chokes Beautiful with his boot in the corner, then stomps the man down after the ref tells him to get off the throat. Face wash? Face wash. Martyr ripping off Samoa Joe to great effect, running the side of his boot across SB's face. The Beautiful one slumps, and Martyr is quick to pull him out for a cover. One, two, SB kicks out again.
BILL HEWSON: This is perhaps one of the most anticipated, hoped for match-ups... but so far it's been mostly a singles match! Ravager and Casino are in the crowd still... I stand corrected, Casino just came over the guardrail at ringside after laying out Ravager with those two steel chair shots.
BRUCE RICHARDS: And that's bad, bad news for Simply Beautiful. But I've teamed with the man, I know he is as resilient as they come in this sport of ours!
However, now SB has to deal with two men to his one. Ravager is picking himself up in the crowd but that doesn't help right now, as Chris Casino rolls into the ring. Casino ignores the ref's instructions to get to his corner, coming in to help Martyr out with a double suplex that drops SB with authority. And then Casino... heads to the top rope. If he hits this, it could be, should be, WILL BE over...
Picture-perfect. The flying elbow is picture-perfect.
Casino rolls over and hooks a leg, the referee apparently has no idea who's legal and who's not anymore... and the cover
ONE
TWO
THREE---
Foot on the rope, bitches.
The referee sees it, and Simply Beautiful, a former Pure Honor champion, absolutely knows where he is at all times. Casino snarls and pins SB again, this time SB takes the bottom rope with a hand. Casino grabs the wrist, pins it and covers SB again, and this time a shoulder gets up! And then SB raises a fist, and starts shaking it! Simply Beautiful will not die!
Casino tries to hold SB down with punches, but it's not working! Casino firing away, but SB absorbs the first two and then blocks, firing with one of his own! Casino fires again, blocked, SB rocks it! Simply Beautiful is unloading, Casino tries to get away, uh-uh! Impact DDT! And that's the set-up for it... SB leaps to the top rope, looks back, and flies!
NEW YORK NIGHTMARE!
ONE! TWO! MARTYR SAVES!
SB potentially could have put it away there, but Martyr was able to make the save. And now Martyr hooks the arms, Sacrifice coming up ---
RAVAGER.
Right behind Martyr! Has the arms! LAAAST RESORRRRT!
HOLY HELL!
Martyr flies through the air, does a 360, and lands on his belly. He pops up and rolls to the outside, where Ravager follows. Meanwhile in the ring, SB and Casino are both down. The referee begins to count. ONE! TWO! THREE! On the outside, Martyr is trying to somehow crawl away with what strength he has left... Raul Havok jumps on Ravager's back! FOUR! FIVE! SIX! SB is almost up... Casino isn't? Wait a minute! Havok is on Ravager's back, the champ trying to dislodge him, but Martyr has gather himself just enough to reach into his boot... and pull out a steel chain! He throws it to Casino, who grabs it and tucks it under as SB takes his feet. Martyr then yells at the referee to look at Ravager, assaulting a "defenseless manager." Ravager judo tosses Havok over his head ---
SB pulls Casino up ---
POW.
Casino decks him with a chain-wrapped right hand. SB goes down like a sack of potatoes.
On the outside, Ravager is looking down at Havok, kicking him for good measure MARTYR FROM BEHIND! Martyr shoves Ravager head-first into the steel ring steps, holy hell. Casino covers Simply Beautiful, ONE, TWO, THREE --- KICK OUT.
WHAT THE HELL???
Casino looks ready to weep, what the hell, you know? Come on, give a guy a break! Martyr rolls in, exhausted, but he grabs up SB and hits THE SACRIFICE. Martyr slumps down, Casino says "STAY THE FUCK DOWN YOU BITCH!" He has the arms now... oh no. BANKRUPT.
Casino again covers, Ravager is hurt on the outside, and this time there is no kicking out. Not from that. Not even by SB.
FRANK WARBURTON: Ravager and Simply Beautiful have been eliminated... the winners of the gauntlet, moving on to the Tag Title main event... MALICIOUS INTENT, CHRIS CASINO & SEBASTIEN MARTYR!
BILL HEWSON: ... a main event perhaps nobody wanted except Rex Caliber! Chris Casino and Sebastien Martyr vs LDK Lloyd Rees and David Banks, tag titles, in a steel cage. And again Casino & Martyr have to resort to...
BRUCE RICHARDS: But they did win. SB's one tough son of a bitch, but nobody's getting up from Sacrifice and Bankrupt. Casino and Martyr did what they did to win.
JACK JONES: What are you two complaining about? What a main event we have! The New Crimes vs Malicious Intent! Chris Casino, Sebastien Martyr, David Banks, Lloyd Rees... ALL IN THE SAME RING, at the same time! It's going to be a Match Of The Year! Wow! What a night this has been!
The fans don't agree with Jack Attack's assessment, but neither are they throwing garbage in the ring to accompany their boos. However Casino & Martyr did it, it can be said that they did it on their own. Banks & Rees...
This is going to be one interesting main event.
JACK JONES: And that's how I - hold on, my cell's ringing. Hello? No. NO! Mother, you can't bet on the second gauntlet. It's already finished. You might have the greatest hunch in the world, but that's because we've seen the two men beat everyone else in their match!
BILL HEWSON: So, Bruce, it's minutes before the cage match. Who do you think is going to take it?
BRUCE RICHARDS: Sorry, Bill. I'm too focused on the Jay O'Brien/Stone Zellor match.
BILL HEWSON: If both men bring to the ring what they're capable of? It could be a classic. But Jay O'Brien is not at one hundred per cent with that cast on his arm.
BRUCE RICHARDS: If it's not fully healed, why did they schedule him to wrestle?
JACK JONES: It's because my boy Jay insisted that this match be held! No, mom, you can't hock my PCW title belt! It's very valuable! I'm sending Lou down there to collect tomorrow!
FRANK WARBURTON: The following match is set for one fall! Making his way to the ring, weighing in at two hundred and twenty eight pounds! From Bradford, England, this is JAAAAAAAYYYY O'BRIIIIIIIEEEEENNNNNNN!
O'Brien appears at the curtain as "Technosonic Sunshine" plays, his right hand in a cast up to the middle of his forearm. The crowd boos lustily, as Jay threatens then with a backhand from his armored arm.
FRANK WARBURTON: And from Staten Island, New York! Weighing in at one hundred and seventy one pounds! This is DYYYNAMIIIITE! STOOOOONNNNE! ZEEEELLLLLOOOORRRRRR!
As the fans dance along to "Bang Bang to the Rock 'N' Roll," a pimped out Stone Zellor struts to the ring in a black velour hat and matching sunglasses. O'Brien points to his eyes and out to Stone with his good hand, mouthing "You're mine."
BILL HEWSON: O'Brien's got his eyes on the prize here: a win against the only man who's beaten him.
BRUCE RICHARDS: If he wants this match, he'll need to keep his focus. I've fought Stone on a few occasions, and that's one man you can't take your eyes off of.
JACK JONES: This is Jay O'Brien we're talking about! He was one of the cornerstones of the Untouchables! Nearly undefeated! And now he's got a chance to settle the score!
As Stone enters the ring and takes off his entrance gear, Morgan Smythe goes over the rules with both men. And there's the bell! The two lightweights lock up, and Jay gets the upper hand. Short-arm clothesline, which Zellor ducks. But Stone's still holding on to the arm of Jay O'Brien, and Dynamite starts pumping O'Brien's arm as the prelude to some breakdancing. The pump goes all the way through Jay's shoulders to his casted arm and back again. As Stone picks up the pump, it goes all the way through his body, which segues into a cartwheel until Stone's behind Jay with a rear armbar. The crowd cheers as Zellor continues, doing a leg split, which leads into a Randy Orton-like backbreaker. The crowd is equal-to or greater-than bananas. Wait, I think I got that wrong. As Stone bows to the crowd, O'Brien seethes.
JACK JONES: Always the showboat! Stone didn't even go for the cover there! Bruce, isn't that bad form?
BRUCE RICHARDS: I don't know, Jack Attack. It looks to me like Zellor got right into the mind of his opponent.
O'Brien gets back to his feet, and shouts at Stone for another collar and elbow. Zellor shrugs and nods. Once again, Jay manages to get the advantage, and this time, manages to sweep the leg of Stone, taking him down to the mat. Standing moonsault transitions into a pin! Jay only gets the one count, as Zellor kicks out. Jay capitalizes, though, taking the legs of Stone and wrapping them around his leg in a Texas Cloverleaf. Stone Zellor winces as the hold is locked in. Jay cackles as he adds pressure to the submission hold, and Stone is trying to get out of the hold. Unfortunately, his body's a lot longer than O'Brien's, and there's no way he'll be able to reverse. The crowd starts to clap in support of the pimptastic Zellor. Zellor manages to inch his way towards the rope, but he's not quite there yet! Jay is furious, and orders Smythe to ask for the submission. Stone shakes his head. The crowd keeps clapping. Stone crawls another few inches. He's so close! His fingers are just...barely...touchi- He got the ropes! The crowd explodes as Morgan Smythe tells Jay O'Brien the bad news. O'Brien's livid! He pulls Stone to the middle of the ring, and applies a crossface.
BILL HEWSON: My god! He's using the cast to choke out Stone Zellor! Why the hell is this man cleared to wrestle if he's just using his arm as a weapon?
JACK JONES: I'm lovin' it, Hewson! The tenacity of this kid, wrestling with an injury!
But Morgan Smythe gives Jay O'Brien until the count of five to stop using his cast in such a blatant way. At the four count, Jay finally lets go of Stone. Jay goes to the top rope, waiting for Stone to rise to his feet. And once Stone does, Jay flies over him! Liquid Grace! Stone's head hits the mat with authority, and Jay scrambles for the cover. One! Two- Kickout by Zellor! O'Brien's frustrated, but he pulls Zellor up for some more punishment. ST-oh no! Zellor manages to duck and brings out a clothesline of his own! And then he picks Jay up for a knee to the chin and ANOTHER clothesline! Jay's on the mat for a breather, and Stone scrambles to the turnbuckle. Flying headbutt to the upper forearm of Jay O'Brien.
JACK JONES: Foul! How dare he go for more punishment on that injured arm? It's not quite healed yet!
BRUCE RICHARDS: Actually, it's a good way to neutralize O'Brien. It's strong psychology from Stone Zellor.
And Stone picks up the wincing Jay, hooking an arm of his. The crowd goes wild as they sense it's Slammy Time, but Jay's having none of it! He wriggles out of it enough to hit an STO and takes Zellor down to the mat. Jay's looking angry here, and he decides to go to the turnbuckle and loosen that pad. Henry Andrews turns his attention to fixing the corner, and Stone's up again. A boot to the gut by Jay O'Brien buckles over Stone, and Jay goes behind Zellor. A blatant low blow to the groin of Stone Zellor with that damned cast of his, and Morgan Smythe is looking the wrong way. But, what? The crowd is cheering as Stone stands there, fists on hips, triumphant, as Jay O'Brien is hopping around the ring, clutching his arm in pain.
BILL HEWSON: Not even a cast can destroy those balls of steel!
JACK JONES: Oh no! That's going to set Jay's recovery time back a week! Those balls are a menace to society, Hewson!
Stone taps Jay on the shoulder, and Jay stops walking around to look at Zellor. And Zellor unleashes with a mighty backhand! Pimp slap! O'Brien drops to the mat! Stone Zellor picks him up, and hooks both arms. It's SLAMMY TIME! Double-arm DDT sends Jay O'Brien face first into the canvas. One, two, three!
FRANK WARBURTON: And your winner! STOOOONNNNE! ZEEEELLLLLOOOOORRRRRR!
Stone grabs his pimp hat and glasses and struts to the back, gladhanding his fans on the way. Jay O'Brien is leaning over the ropes, yelling threats to the back of his opponent.
BRUCE RICHARDS: It looks like Stone Zellor has the number of Jay O'Brien. This makes two victories that the former tag champion has over him.
JACK JONES: It's a travesty, it really is. Jay O'Brien had an impressive unbeaten streak until Stone Zellor showed up! It's a huge black smirch on the Englishman's NAPW record! And for Stone to take advantage of Jay's injury?
BILL HEWSON: What are you talking about? Jay took advantage of his injury! And then it backfired on him with that low blow! Stone Zellor got the big win and good riddance to Jay O'Brien's "big comeback." What a chump.
-Intermission-
The final bolts are being tightened on the steel cage as Frank Warburton takes the ring with Head Referee Dick Kiebiech. He holds in his hands the NAPW TAG TEAM TITLES, and the NAPW fans are already abuzz!
FRANK WARBURTON: Ladies and gentlemen, it's time for the TAGSTRAVAGANZA FINALS... the STEEL CAGE MATCH for the NAPW TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIPS! Introducing first, the winners of the first of tonight's two gauntlet matches...
"Here Comes the Champ" and the crowd gets so hot that someone should call the fire department! A few more plastic cups bounce off of "LDK" Lloyd Rees and David Banks as they emerge from the curtains again, Rees still pushing the wheelchair bound John Salty. Despite the heat, they all look like the proverbial cat that ate the mouse.
JACK JONES: Why can't these fans show a little respect! These are the NAPW Tag Team Champions, and they've fought LONG and HARD to be here in this match!
BILL HEWSON: They fought one match, which they CHEATED to win. As much as I hate to say it, it's the Murder City Devils who deserve to be here now.
FRANK WARBURTON: Representing the NEW CRIMES, and being accompanied to the ring by JOHN SALTY. They weigh in at a combined weight of FOUR HUNDRED and SEVENTY POUNDS... they are the team of DAVID BANKS and "LDK" LLOYD REES!
BOOOOOO! Rees deposits John Salty over by Terry Brandon and the two men laugh and shake hands like old friends. The incumbant Tag Team Champions then climb into the steel cage.
FRANK WARBURTON: And their opponents, the winners of the second of tonight's two gauntlet matches...
"Smooth" and the reaction isn't much better. Chris Casino and Sebastien Martyr emerge from the back - but at least they don't have garbage bouncing off of them.
JACK JONES: I'll bet now you're going to tell me that Casino and Martyr don't belong in the finals!
BILL HEWSON: Well they certainly fought harder than Rees and Banks did... but they cheated too. This whole main event is tainted as far as I'm concerned. A sad way for such a potentially huge night of tag team wrestling to end.
JACK JONES: What are you talking about! Four of the biggest stars of the NAPW! Two teams that have never before fought for the tag team gold! This IS the biggest night, no matter what you think! Back me up on this Richards!
BRUCE RICHARDS: ...
JACK JONES: What are you, mute?
FRANK WARBURTON: Weighing in at a combined weight of FOUR HUNDRED and SIXTY POUNDS, they are the team of SEBASTIEN MARTYR, and CHRIS CASINOOOOOOO!
Casino and Martyr both climb into the cage. All four men stand facing one another, and Dick Kiebiech holds aloft the prize for the night. One of these two teams will leave with those title belts. Will Banks and Rees defy the odds - no matter how they may be stacked - and walk out with their reign intact? Or will Casino and Martyr steal the show? It all boils down to this... and now that it's here, the NAPW fans are starting to buzz with excitement again. No matter the road they took, this match is huge for these two teams. Kiebiech hands the belts off to Warburton who exits the cage, and the door is closed behind him. The moment the door clicks shut, the crowd CHEERS! This is it! Tagstravaganza's conclusion! And by God... there's the bell!
Casino and Rees start exchanging chops instantly, while Martyr and Banks start tangling with each other. Martyr is the bigger man, and starts driving David Banks back toward the corner. Casino is staggering from what has become a barrage of chops from LDK, and Rees grabs an arm... Armbar Takedown! He locks in the hold, but Casino flails to the ropes, earning himself a ropebreak early on. David Banks is trying to turn the tables on Sebastien Martyr, throwing some kidney punches at him, but Martyr retaliates with a Short Arm Clothesline that takes Banks off his feet. Casino meanwhile has Lloyd Rees locking in the Lance Cove Cloverleaf, and this time LDK is pulling him as far from the ropes as possible! Martyr has Banks back on his feet... PRESTIGE! Splat goes David Banks!
BILL HEWSON: Lots of back and forth action here early on... wait... what are THEY doing out here!?
Who're they?
Donovan Astros and "The Career Killer" Jake Phoenix. The Murder City Devils. Both look a little worse for wear, Phoenix in particular is bandaged up. They saunter out to ringside, and begin watching what's going in the cage. Rees has finally locked in the Lance Cove Leglock on Chris Casino, but doesn't get a chance to do much with it because a running dropkick from Martyr sends him sprawling into the cage. Casino scrambles to retake his feet, and outside of the cage Phoenix and Astros both applaud. Casino and Martyr, now, pull up Lloyd Rees for a Double Team DDT... but Rees REVERSES IT! Double Clothesline! The Devils, at ringside, cringe. Martyr and Casino crash to the ring, and now Rees is calling over David Banks. Rees grabs hold of Martyr's legs, while Banks rushes over and takes hold of Chris Casino as he rises... BELLY TO BELLY SUPLEX! Rees has locked in the Lance Cove Leglock again... and David Banks flies over to join him. OH MY GOD! CROSSFACE LANCE COVE LEGLOCK! Sebastien Martyr begins flailing madly for the ropes with his free arm!
JACK JONES: This is it! Champs RETAIN, Bill Hewson!
But suddenly Jake Phoenix is pulling the door to the cage open. Donovan Astros KICKS OVER Terry Brandon and grabs his briefcase, then sprints into the ring with the Career Killer at his back! The fans EXPLODE as the cold metal briefcase THUDS loudly across LDK Lloyd Rees' FACE! Rees goes DOWN, hard! David Banks releases Martyr but does get a chance to rise... CLANG! He is DRIVEN back to the groud by the loaded briefcase, and Sebastien Martyr rolls away from the carnage as Astros, with a wild look of abandon, continues to drive the briefcase down on Rees and Banks' backs!
JACK JONES: What the HELL!? Call for the BELL! DISQUALIFIED!
BRUCE RICHARDS: This is BEDLAM! But it's a cage match! So long as it's in the cage, it's ALL LEGAL!
BILL HEWSON: All the tension! All the harsh words! Are the Murder City Devils and Casino and Martyr actually on the same page!?
Donovan Astros chucks the briefcase out of the cage and turns to Chris Casino who has propped himself up the corner. Astros bows and gestures to the prone Lloyd Rees, and all that good will from the crowd disappears. "Well, go on. Take the pin." Casino sneers. "I don't need your help... but that doesn't mean I won't take it!" Casino scrambles over and leaps onto LDK, as the crowd BOOOOS! This is it! NEW TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS!
Or Donovan Astros could just stomp on the back of Chris Casino's head. The fans explode again, as Casino's cage is rattled. Martyr takes two steps to save his partner, but suddenly Jake Phoenix is there... TOMBSTONE! Martyr is PLANTED into the ring, headfirst! David Banks has staggered up to his feet. He turns, dazed, and runs face first into The Career Killer's chest. There's nowhere to run. TOMBSTONE... ONTO MARTYR! Astros has up Chris Casino, and locks in for the Butterfly Suplex... RIGHT INTO THE CAGE WALL! Casino crumples. Rees is still unmoving in the middle of the ring. Banks and Martyr are in a tangled clump, possibly dead. And above them all, the Murder City Devils stand, basking in a SURPRISINGLY big ovation from the NAPW crowd! The duo take a quick glance over the carnage, then take their time exiting the cage. Terry Brandon gets right in their faces, demanding they account for themselves, but Phoenix just shoves him onto his ass, and the two take their leave.
BILL HEWSON: I'm... I'm not too sure what we just saw...
JACK JONES: SOMEONE CALL THIS MATCH OFF!
In the ring, Dick Kiebiech has no choice but to start counting both teams out. One! Two! Three! Martyr has begun to stir. Four! Five! So has LDK. The fever pitch of the crowd picks up. Six! Seven! And the two men are on their feet! This match - somehow - will not be ended so easily! Lloyd Rees throws a chop out on Martyr, who takes it in the chest. He grins, eyes wild and shouts "Another!" Rees shrugs and chops him again. Again Martyr just grins. "ANOTHER!" Rees AGAIN throws out a chop, but Martyr blocks! DARK DAZE! And a cover! ONE! TWO! THRKICKOUT! Martyr curses and pounds the mat, and then gets sideswiped by David Banks. Banks drives a few forearms into Martyr's chin, then whips him hard into a corner. He follows up with a Running Forearm in the corner, then sets Martyr up on the top rope, and climbs up after him! Martyr tries to struggle with him as they both hang perilously on the top of the ringpost, but Banks locks up... BEYOND BELIEF! The crowd is ON IT'S FEET! Banks hooks the leg! ONE! TWO! CHRIS CASINO OFF THE TOP ROPE! A picture perfect ELBOW DROP that NAILS Banks dead in the abdomen! Casino kips up, but Lloyd Rees catches him, and the top begin exchanging blows.
BILL HEWSON: After that beatdown from Astros and Phoenix, I'm impressed that these two teams have anything left to give!
JACK JONES: You're telling me! It shows their championship calibre, I think... wait, who's that coming over the guardrail!?
Big Bad Brian Bruno.
There's no mixed reaction here. He gets heavily booed as he pulls down his hood. He takes a glance up into the cage, then turns - purposefully - toward the timekeepers table. The wheelchair bound John Salty visibly gulps, and starts wheeling around to the far side of the ring, but Bruno just starts following him around, a sick smile playing across his lips. Lloyd Rees, in the cage, shucks off Casino, and turns spouting expletives down at Bruno. Quadruple-B laughs, and picks up his pace, hurrying after Salty, who is desperately trying to wheel away. Rees rushes over to the cage door... but Casino and Martyr catch him from behind... DOUBLE TEAM REVERSE SUPLEX INTO THE CAGE! Rees crumples headfirst to the apron, and Martyr and Casino just start laying the boots to him to a chorus of boos! Bruno, laughing maniacally, catches Salty's wheelchair, and brings it to a halt. John Salty cries for help, but it looks like this may be the end...
STATIC! STATIC FOR THE SAVE!
To another mixed reaction, Static lays into Brian Bruno, giving Salty enough time to wheel for his very life, abandoning his team in the ring, and making good his escape. Bruno covers up, laughing, shielding himself from Static's assault, then suddenly YELPS with pain and a streak of crimson appears on his hand. Static is now the one cackling madly... he's got his friend SCREWY in hand!
BILL HEWSON: I don't know who I should feel more scared for? Static... or Bruno! These two are BOTH insane!
In the ring, Casino pulls Rees to the middle of the ring, and attempts a cover! One! Two! And David Banks with the big save. Martyr grabs Banks, and locks in the MORPHEUS! Banks flails for the ropes, and Chris Casino gets right in his face, slapping him and shouting for him to SUBMIT. Outside, things are getting BLOODY. Bruno fends off a second slash from the screwdriver that rips his jacket on the sleeve, but Static has him right where he wants him, cowering against the guardrail. He cackles again, shouts "SUCK MY VOODOO!" and goes to slash Bruno's face... but Big Bad Brian Bruno CATCHES his arm! Static yelps and Bruno rises to his feet, his face twisting into a sick smile, twisting Static's arm until the much smaller man has no choice but to drop the screwdriver! Then he hefts Static up, takes one step and LAWNDARTS Static into the side of the steel cage! Static is DOWN. In the ring, Banks has taken hold of the bottom rope, and Kiebiech calls for a ropebreak. Martyr releases him, just as Brian Bruno steps through the cage door. Chris Casino, sadly, is in his way, and Bruno levels the former Pure Honour Champion with the Sack Exchange. Bruno then whirls around to the screams and boos of the crowd and a second Sack Exchange drops David Banks! Bruno glares over at Martyr, who wisely raises his arms and backs away, then turns and and starts going after Lloyd Rees. LDK backs into the corner, arms raised...
AND SIMPLY BEAUTIFUL IS IN THE CAGE!
The fans EXPLODE! He lays into Brian Bruno, fists flying.
BILL HEWSON: Simply Beautiful with the big save... for LLOYD REES of all people!
BRUCE RICHARDS: What can I say, he really hates Bruno.
JACK JONES: Are you SURE we're in Edmonton? This crowd seems more like a Toronto crowd. That, or I drank the funny water again. I could have sworn Simply Beautiful just made the save for Lloyd Rees. Oh, wait, he did. WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?
BILL HEWSON: SB isn't making the save for Lloyd Rees, he just hates Bruno that much! But nonetheless... wow!
SB has Brian Bruno heading for the hills! Quadruple-B bails out of the cage door, and Simply Beautiful is right on his tail! The two start exchanging blows again, right up the aisle toward the curtain as the fans chant "SB! SB! SB! SB!" In the cage, Martyr is stomping away at Lloyd Rees in the corner. David Banks has pulled himself back up using the ropes and turns in time to get a SUPERKICK from Chris Casino! Banks' face is squished into the cage to an OOOH from the crowd! Casino wheel around, muttering something about no further interruptions, and pulls something shiny out of his tights that he tosses to Martyr. Martyr catches them, turns, and POW! Brass knucks off the temple. Lloyd Rees' eyes cross and he pitches forward with a thump. Martyr quickly loses the offending weapon through the cage - just in case - and launches himself on Rees for the pin! One! Two!
LIGHTS OUT!
BILL HEWSON: What in the HELL is this, now!?
BRUCE RICHARDS: A blackout?
LIGHTS UP! The noise from the fans blows off the roof.
BILL HEWSON: RAVAGER! RAVAGER IS IN THE RING!
BRUCE RICHARDS: MY HEAD ASPLODE!
JACK JONES: WHY CAN'T WE JUST HAVE A GOOD OLD FASHIONED CAGE MATCH!?
LAST RESORT! Sebastien Martyr is laid out! LAST RESORT! Chris Casino is laid out! Ravager looks around at the carnage. He nudges Rees with his toe... LDK is still KO'd! Banks isn't moving! Casino and Martyr just got taken out care of the White Collar Assassin! His work done, Ravager steps out of the ring, brushing past Terry Brandon, who apparently is actually as effectual as a goldfish might have been at maintaining order. He turns and takes one last look into the ring, and suddenly Static is BRAINING him with a steel chair! The crowd starts booing again, as, in the ring, Banks and Sebastien Martyr have retaken their feet, shakily. Chris Casino, too, is showing signs of life. Static stands for a second over the fallen NAPW Champion, then looks at the chair, then the ring. The fans are preemptively booing what they know is about to come. Static rushes the door and climbs into the ring, chair a-swinging! CLANG! Down goes Martyr! CLANG! Down goes Chris Casino! Static shouts at Banks to help him, and the pair pull the still prone Lloyd Rees over toward Chris Casino.
BILL HEWSON: NO! NO! NOT LIKE THIS!
JACK JONES: YES! YES! CHAMPS RETAIN! FINALLY! AGAINST ALL THE ODDS THEY -- WHAT THE HELL IS CA$H DOING!?
Ca$h? He's CLIMBING THE SIDE OF THE CAGE! Static and Banks are oblivious, just now dropping the dead weight of LDK onto Chris Casino. They turn, just in time to see Ca$h coming OFF THE TOP OF THE CAGE! BODYSPLASH!
"HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!"
Ca$h and the New Crimes all crash to the canvas, and Casino manages to weakly shuck off Lloyd Rees, who just flops onto the mat limply. He turns slowly, throws an arm over the prone tag team champion! Banks and Static are still tangled in Ca$h! The fans rise to their FEET!
ONE!
TWO!
MISTEEERRRRRRR CANADAAAAAAAAAA!
BILL HEWSON: NOT AGAIN!?
Mr. Canada kicks Casino clean off of Rees just in the nick of time. He then turns around to meet Ca$h who's risen to his feet, and throws an elbow at him to stagger him, grabs him by the head, then DRIVES him face-first into the cage! Chris Casino has retaken his feet at this point, but Mr. Canada turns, throws a toe kick into Casino's midsection... STYLES CLASH! The fans booing goes into OVERDRIVE. Mr. Canada motions to David Banks and Banks rolls Casino over and hooks the leg...
ONE!
TWO!
Is there some last run-in? Some last second interference? Some MIRACLE?
No.
THREE!
FRANK WARBURTON: Here are your winners... and STILL NAPW TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS... DAVID BANKS and "LDK" LLOYD REES!
Some of the NAPW fans are already leaving, totally disgusted. Again the chant of "BULLSHIT! BULLSHIT! BULLSHIT!" is resounding through the arena, as Mr. Canada and Static pull "LDK" Lloyd Rees up. Rees shakes his head, and dazedly asks if the match is over. Mr. Canada nods his head, and then the four men all raise their arms in victory. Garbage starts to bounce off of them.
BILL HEWSON: I am too sick for words.
JACK JONES: AGAINST ALL THE ODDS, with SO MANY OBSTACLES IN THEIR WAY, Rees and Banks fought through a gruelling gauntlet and then overcame their opponents in the STEEL CAGE, to retain their titles! We were promised a night where anything could happen and THE NAPW DELIVERED!
BILL HEWSON: What a SHAM! Rex Caliber has played everyone here for fools... the placement of Rees and Banks in the shorter gauntlet. The presence of Terry Brandon at ringside. That he would interfere in the cage match PERSONALLY...
JACK JONES: What are you talking about? I don't see Rex Caliber out there!
BILL HEWSON: Rex Caliber is Mr. Canada, Jack Attack.
JACK JONES: What nonsense is that!? Mr. Canada is Rex Caliber? Would you listen to this guy, Richards?
BRUCE RICHARDS: ...
Bruce "the Beast" Richards doesn't answer because he's looking into the ring with a thoughtful expression. In the cage, the New Crimes are standing tall, having - literally - stolen victory here tonight. Static in particular is looking out of the ring in his direction. The message is clear -- come join the winning team. Even if they are being buried in garbage.
We're out.