Edmonton Alberta, and the crowd tonight is going about 350. The weather's hell outside and that's cutting down on some of the fans - it takes a couple weeks of winter for Albertans to get used to it, then there's no stopping them. But nonetheless, the Polish Hall is vibing with energy for what is looking like an exciting show. The fans are ready, some still getting concessions or out for a smoke, but most are seated and ready.
"WE WANT THE SHOW!
WE WANT THE SHOW!
WE WANT THE SHOW!
WE WANT THE SHOW!"
You want the show?
"WHEN IT'S TIME TO PARTY WE WILL PARTY HARD!!!"
ANDREW! W! K! THE BEATS START PUMPING! A huge cheer from the crowd as the former NAPW tag team champions, Mystic Exposition, appear at the top of the aisle!
FRANK WARBURTON: Ladies and gentlemen, this is next contest is a 'Last Chance Tag Team Match' and is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first... At a combined weight of four-hundred-and-forty pounds. MYSTIC EXPOSITION!
Expositioner and his partner, Mystic Ninja run down the aisle slapping hands with all the willing fans as they go. They slide into the ring and pose on the turnbuckles as their music dies down.
FRANK WARBURTON: And their opponents. At a combined weight of three-hundred-and-eighty-five pounds. COAST 2 COAST!
And the sound of Andrew WK is replaced by Nirvana's "You Know You're Right" as Link Van Haggard and Odyssey Baldwin emerge from behind the curtain. The fans jeer them as they slowly strut towards the ring - NINJATTACK!
BILL HEWSON: Mystic Ninja looks to want to start this match early!
Van Haggard is taken down by the flying assault as Expositioner hits Baldwin with a baseball slide before exiting the ring. And the members of Mystic Exposition are off to a bright start as they're pounding away with rights and lefts. Ninja on Link, Expositioner on Odyssey Baldwin - and they're unrelenting! Link Van Haggard is rolled back into the ring before Mystic Ninja slides in after him - and Anthony Uruburu finally calls for the bell!
DING DING DING!
BILL HEWSON: This match is legally underway now, and Mystic Ninja is taking the fight to Link Van Haggard!
JACK JONES: You're being slapped around by a midget ninja, Link! Get some self respect, dammit.
Link Van Haggard is down on all fours as Mystic Ninja runs against the nearest ropes for some momentum, before coming back with a basement dropkick to the jaw! That one clobbered Link, but the Kiwi is quickly picked back up to his feet. Tag out to the Expositioner and Link van Haggard is taken down by a double suplex! Pin attempt by Expositioner!
ONE!
TWO!
THRSAVEEEEEEEEEEEEED!
Odyssey Baldwin with the (Unnecessary) save, but he got the chance to stomp at Expositioner's head. The official is quickly ushering him back to his corner as Expositioner lifts his opponent back to his feet again. Knife edge chop to the chest of Van Haggard! The crowd "wooo" along with each of the four chops before Link is backed against the ropes. An Irish whip sends him against the far ropes - X POUND!
BILL HEWSON: A Lou Thesz press by The Expositioner, and Link Van Haggard is in trouble. He can't take much more of this, I'm sure.
Anthony Uruburu calls for the break as The Expositioner gets back to a vertical base. He's waiting for Link to regain his stance as the young Kiwi slowly but surely uses the ropes to get back up - and Expositioner charges - WTF!
JACK JONES: Ha ha! He was playing possum.
BILL HEWSON: And The Expositioner paid the price!
And Van Haggard is crawling towards his corner, as is The Expositioner. The crowd are cheering Mystic Exposition on. But it looks like Link's going to reach his partner first.
BILL HEWSON: Remember that Mystic Exposition are fighting for their jobs here tonight, Jack Attack. If they lose they can't compete for the rest of two-thousand-seven. They'll miss the Supershow, they'll miss Black Thursday III.
JACK JONES: But we won't miss them, Hewson. Silver lining right there.
BILL HEWSON: You're such a tool, Jones. TAG TO BALDWIN!
Odyssey Baldwin storms the ring, grabbing Expositioner by the ankle to stop him from tagging out before charging Mystic Ninja with a flying forearm. Anthony Uruburu is forced to control Mystic Ninja as he tries to enter the ring - but he does little more than serve as a distraction as Baldwin stomps away at the head of The Expositioner. The official is still distracted as Baldwin drops to the mat and just starts choking his opponent! The crowd are jeering, booing even - but Mystic Ninja finally accepts his place on the apron as Uruburu turns back around and immediately admonishes Odyssey Baldwin for the illegal choke!
JACK JONES: Doesn't that ref know the man's a Baldwin? He can do what he likes!
The Expositioner is dragged back to his feet as Odyssey Baldwin guides him towards the corner. He makes the tag out to Link van Haggard, but remains in the ring, stomping a mudhole in the midsection of The Expositioner! Van Haggard joins in as the referee orders Baldwin out - leaving just Link Van Haggard to stomp away. He drags his opponent out of the corner before doubling The Expositioner over with a boot to the gut. And it looks like Link is going for the THUNDERCHILD DRIVER - NOOO! The Expositioner blocks the suplex attempt, countering with an inside cradle!
ONE!
TWONOOOOOOO!
Van Haggard kicks out as both men spring back to their feet. Lariat attempt by Link, DUCKED! And countered with a backslide!
ONE!
TWO!
THNOOOO!
Link kicks out again, and once more, both men spring back to their feet. The Expositioner charges in, diving around the back as he goes for the schoolboy!
ONE!
TWO!
THREENOOOO!
Odyssey Baldwin with the save! And he's not leaving the ring in a hurry as The Expositioner hurries to his own corner to make the tag! And in comes the Mystic Ninja - NO! Anthony Uruburu is back in control and he didn't see the tag! Mystic Ninja can't believe it as the referee orders him back out onto the apron.
BILL HEWSON: Odyssey Baldwin proving enough of a distraction to prevent the official from seeing the tag there.
JACK JONES: It's the ring smarts of Coast 2 Coast, Hewson. I don't care what the people think, ninjas don't beat brains!
BILL HEWSON: Well, zombie ninjas would EAT brains, and that's close enough in my book!
JACK JONES: ... quoi?
Low blow by Link Van Haggard! The Expositioner was distracted by the kerfuffle, and Link took full advantage. PIN 'EM, WIN 'EM! The German suplex by Link Van Haggard - but the official isn't there to make the count! Van Haggard releases the bridge as he makes the tag out to his partner, Odyssey Baldwin. And now both members of Coast 2 Coast are in the ring and they're dragging The Expositioner back to his feet. An Irish whip sends him across the ring, bouncing off the ropes. Coast 2 Coast go for a double back elbow - DUCKED! The Expositioner bounces off the far ropes - DOUBLE LARIAT! The Expositioner nails both members of Coast 2 Coast - and they're down!
The Expositioner is unsteady on his feet, but he's staggering towards his own corner - TAG OUT TO MYSTIC NINJA! The Expositioner falls to the mat in near exhaustion as both of his opponent get back up - MISSILE DROPKICK! Mystic Ninja connects with a boot to each man's chest with that missile dropkick! Baldwin rolls to the outside, but he's not safe there - ASAI MOONSAULT! Mystic Ninja strikes again!
Link Van Haggard is back on his feet. The Expositioner is getting up in the corner as Mystic Ninja and Odyssey Baldwin are out at ringside ... SUICIDE DIVE! And Link Van Haggard took out Mystic Ninja!
Three men are down on the outside, but the members of Coast 2 Coast are stirring. They may be using the guard rails to aid them, but they'll be standing soon. Now, in fact. They lift Mystic Ninja back to his feet - X-PRESS!
BILL HEWSON: The Expositioner out of nowhere!
JACK JONES: Oh my God, he cleared the top rope!
BILL HEWSON: What a display of athleticism by The Expositioner there, clearing the top rope to wipe out his opponent with his version of the cross body block!
And all four men are down on the outside - and the crowd is booing ... Because here comes C.A.B.S. The NAPW Tag Team champion are marching down the aisle, with the belts strapped around their waists.
BILL HEWSON: What the hell are they doing here? They may be the champions, but they're not meant to be here tonight!
JACK JONES: They're scoping out the competition, Hewson. Black Thursday III, it'll be 'Censorship Against Bad Stuff' against Coast 2 Coast for those NAPW Tag Team titles!
Meanwhile, the actual competitors are stirring on the outside. The Expositioner and Link Van Haggard are still down, but Mystic Ninja is on his feet. And he's rolled Odyssey Baldwin into the ring. Baldwin is out, and he's stumbling about.
BILL HEWSON: Wait, what's going on? Steven Wylde is heading over to where Link and The Expositioner are!
Indeed he is, and the referee has seen him! But he hasn't seen Ace Adams slide into the ring - FULLY CENSORED! Ace Adams has just drilled Mystic Ninja with his finishing move! And Adams is out of the ring in the blink of an eye, leaving Odyssey Baldwin to have to take advantage of the situation.
BILL HEWSON: Not like this!
JACK JONES: Pin him, Baldwin! Get rid of these misfits for the next six weeks! MERRY CHRISTMAS TO THE JONES!
Baldwin drops on top of Mystic Ninja for the cover!
ONE!
TWO!
THREENOOOOOOOOOOOO!
The Expositioner saves! The crowd breathe a sigh of relief, but Odyssey Baldwin can't believe it! The tag champs can't believe it! Ace Adams jumps up onto the apron as Anthony Uruburu goes to try and get him down. Steven Wylde slides into the ring as The Expositioner and Odyssey Baldwin are duking it out ... SPEAR! SPEAR! SPEAR! ON ODYSSEY BALDWIN!
BILL HEWSON: The Expositioner DODGES! Steven Wylde just nailed Odyssey Baldwin with the spear!
Dropkick by The Expositioner sends Steven Wylde into his tag partner, and both men fall to the mats below as the members of Mystic Exposition are standing in the ring.
"BINGO TANGO!"
JACK JONES: I HATE BINGO TANGO!
They point to the top turnbuckles, and both men start climbing whilst a winded Odyssey Baldwin unwittingly stands up in the centre of the ring - X-TERMINATOR! Mystic Ninja hooks the leg!
ONE!
Link Van Haggard's back in the ring!
TWO!
He's diving to make the save...
The Expositioner blocks!
THREE!
FRANK WARBURTON: Here are your winners, MYSTIC EXPOSITIONNNNNNN!
BILL HEWSON: And these fans love it, because folks, Mystic Exposition are going to be making the NAPW christmas very merry indeed! They brought their A-Game when their backs were to the wall, with a win over the #1 contenders!
JACK JONES: They didn't win anything, it's only because Odyssey accidentally got in the way of Wylde's spear! Mystic Exposition fluked out! FLUKED!
BILL HEWSON: The Champions shouldn't have been out here in the first place. Not only did they not get rid of their fun-loving rivals Mystic Exposition, but I daresay Coast 2 Coast are going to be looking for revenge on top of the tag titles come Black Thursday III!
CABS have retreated to the back in shock and with much grimacing. Coast 2 Coast are up and dash to the locker room area! Oh yeah, they ain't happy. But the crowd is PARTYING HARD for Mystic Exposition! Hoo ha!
"Huh" by Akforty begins to play through the arena, the crowed begins to give a standing ovation, (BLEEP) it, they go wild.
BILL HEWSON: WHAT?! He's here? Darko is here?! HOW?!
JACK JONES: That's my guy, Prince Darko, he can fight through anything: skin eating disease, bubonic plague, or even terminal cancer. I remember the doctor said he had two days to live, he laughed and said "Wanna bet?" So Darko comes back on the third day and asked for the money. Doctor didn't have the money.
BILL HEWSON: Well what happened to the doctor?
JACK JONES: I don't know! No one does... but I bet that man does.
The curtains open and their is two guys in black that keep the curtains open for Darko, walks through the with a neck brace, (the temporary ones) crutches and a cast on his left leg that as the initials "PWD" etched into the side in golden letters. The crowd laughs when they notice his initials on the side of his cast, but a light, airy laugh, to let him know they're on his side. Darko looks angry, heated to the nth degree. Why? As Darko makes his way ring side, he tells one of his guys to sit on the rope for him and tells the second guy to go fetch him a mic. Darko finally makes his way into the ring.
He pauses for a moment as the fans chant his name. He takes it in. Absorbs it. Even looks touched...
PRINCE DARKO: (BLEEP) every single one of you pieces of shits. No, the pain is not making me grumpy. You mother (BLEEP) giving me love and shit, that doesn't pay the hospital bills, that shit doesn't make the pain go away, so shut the (BLEEP) up. I liked it better when you (BLEEP) hated me, why? That way I wouldn't feel guilty when I called you pieces of shits, pieces of shits. Not that I did feel guilty, Darko never feels guilty.
They begin to rain boos all over Darko.
BILL HEWSON: Wow... That didn't last long.
JACK JONES: Darko speaks the truth, a great man he is.
PRINCE DARKO: That's what I thought, change your (BLEEP) colors like Stone Zellor. It wouldn't be the first time you two did that, you all are two faced, unlike Prince W. Darko, who stays real all day baby. Stone Zellor's lucky the contracts say I can't kick his ass no more, but you best believe we'll meet again, and I'll (BLEEP) Zamunda Driver the shit out of him. I'll leave his (BLEEP) head on the mat looking like mashed potatoes, that's a (BLEEP) promise.
Now, lemme get to why I'm really here. See, your's truly, Prince Williams Darko, has seen a lot of shit on his return to NAPW, a lot. Well damn, I've seen too much, and this is a message to the dudes in the back: Deez Nuts Carter, Donovan (BLEEP), Kyle Roberts, -I know I've seen your punk ass back there- Bobby Ravager, all y'all (BLEEP) garbage, shut the (BLEEP) down and take a seat, I'ma show you bitches how you (BLEEP) kill a beast.
BILL HEWSON: WHAT?
JACK JONES: It's pretty damn obvious, Billy.
PRINCE DARKO: It's evident that Bruce has no more actual competition now-a-days, and me, myself, as banged up as I am, I figured I could Zamunda Driver that mother (BLEEP) for his belt with ease. (BLEEP) it, I could be in a wheel chair and still Zamunda Driver that man, I'm that (BLEEP) good, bitches! Like, I was saying, Bruce "The Bitch" Richards needs actual competition to be considered an actual champion. I've looked through the people he's face during this bull shit ass title reign, it's pretty (BLEEP) depressing, I'm yet to see my name on that list, and as everyone knows, a title reign ain't a title reign unless you've faced me. Then again, it's the end of a title reign when you face me. You (BLEEP) lose your title when you face me. Check my statistics for this year, numbers don't (BLEEP) lie. So Bruce, the (BLEEP) do you say? You ready to get your head crushed into the mat, and lose that title? Well it don't matter if you ready, because I already signed one of your open contracts! I'm coming into the Supershow and walkin' out the NAPW Champeen, and ain't none of ya'll or no busted up neck gon' stop me.
Darko drops the microphone, and commands the guy from before to sit on the ropes for Darko to make his exit. The crowd gives it to him, Darko just gives them his hate back. There is nothing to like about this man.
JACK JONES: YOUR NEXT NAPW WORLD CHAMPION!!!
BILL HEWSON: So, Jack. Say Prince W. Darko does win the World Title at Supershow IV. He then has to defend it against your boy Donovan Astros at Black Thursday III. Who do you cheer for?
JACK JONES: I cheer for the fans! Because they'll be in the front row for the best match ever in an NAPW ring!
JACK JONES: So they gave me this tiny comb and some shampoo.
BILL HEWSON: You sure you caught at the NAIT Center pool?
JACK JONES: That's what my girl told me.
BILL HEWSON: Anyways, the following contest features the REBEL World Champion taking on one of the hottest stars on the Indy circuit, Dez Carter! A Heritage title shot at Black Thursday III is on the line!
"Twinkle Twinkle" begins to play, and out comes Asuka and her man, DEZ! The crowd goes insanely crazy for this man, who slaps hands with the Carter Crew! He gets in the ring, and everyone is on their feet.
FRANK WARBURTON: The following contest is scheduled for one fall, and the winner receives a shot at the Heritage Title! First, accompanied by Asuka. He weighs in at two hundred and forty four pounds, wrestling out of the Steel City of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. He is a former NAPW Pure Honor Champion... DEZ CARTER!
COCKY!
And the new REBEL Champ enters the arena. The boos begin, as the former fan favorite soiled his reputation, taking a short cut to the World title down south. He has the belt around his waist and doesn't pay the crowd much attention. He takes the belt off and shows it too them, smiling the whole time. He stops to shine it up before putting it over his shoulder. He gets in the ring, and covers his ears, as the anti "Show" chants begin.
FRANK WARBURTON: And his opponent. Weighing in at two hundred and thirty pounds. Wrestling out of Paducah, Kentucky, he is a former NAPW Television, and Tag Team champion. He is a former REBEL Carolina's champion, and the current, reigning REBEL Heavyweight Champion of the World... he is THE SHOW.... CHAD KURTIS!
BILL HEWSON: The crowd is all over Chad, but you got to admit his way to the belt was somewhat unethical.
JACK JONES: The belt is his... that's all that matters!
Morgan Smythe calls for the bell and the two men come to the center of the ring. Chad Kurtis offers a handshake, Dez reaches to shake his hand, but Chad backs away. The fans boo the REBEL World Champ only to have Chad ignore them and slap Dez across the face. Dez wastes little time reacting and hits a Palm Strike to the chest of Kurtis. Dez then Irish whips Chad Kurtis into the far corner. Dez charges and misses a Stinger Styled Splash. Chad doesn't capitalize right away. He collects his thoughts and allows Dez to shake off the effects of the missed maneuver. Chad asks Dez for a "Test of Strength". The crowd tells Dez not to, but the overly cocky "Show" connives him into it. Dez puts his right hand up to meet Chad's, but wait... ROARING ELBOW FROM DEZ CARTER! Chad is knocked to the mat, the crowd explodes with cheers. Dez was too smart to fall for Chad's trap. Chad Kurtis is asking for a timeout and rolls to the outside of the ring. He goes and grabs up his World title belt, and kisses it.
BILL HEWSON: He does know that the belt isn't on the line right?
JACK JONES: It's his source of power! Leave him be!
Chad places the belt in his corner and sets it up where the front can be seen anywhere in the ring. Morgan Smythe's count reaches seven as Chad crawls back in the ring. Dez doesn't let him in freely, and hits him with a leg drop to the back of Chad's head. Dez goes for the cover.
ONE!
TWO
Barely a two count and "The Show" kicks out furiously. Dez Carter gets up and tries to bring Chad with him. Chad on one knee, delivers an elbow to the stomach. Dez doubles over and AX KICK FROM CHAD! Chad gets some "uncle mo" on his side, and has the former Pure Honor Champ down. Chad rolls Dez on to his back and STANDING SHOOTING STAR PRESS! Chad stays on him, hooks the leg and
ONE!
TWO!
THR NO CIGAR!
JACK JONES: That looked like three to me! Dick Kiebiech is clearly cheating!
BILL HEWSON: He isn't even reffing this match! What match are you watching?
JACK JONES: I got this portable DVD player, I was skimming NAPW's Hostile Hangover two disc set. It's on loan from the merchandise table.
BILL HEWSON: I could get better color commentary from Kermit the Frog!
JACK JONES: Hey, it ain't easy being green!
>Back to the action as Chad goes of the the BEST MOONSAULT EVER! KNEES UP! Dez got his knees up, and Chad is writhing in pain on the mat. Dez Carter gets up and is waiting for Chad to rise too. He does and Dez hits Chad with a drop kick that is BEEEE U TIFUL! Chad rolls to the outside once again, and again asks for a timeout. He doesn't receive one.. what a shock. Dez has had enough of all this timeout garbage and heads outside. Morgan Smythe is counting the both out now. Chad doesn't see Dez behind him... DRAGON SUPLEX ON THE FLOOR!
HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! Dez Carter is up and picks the lifeless Chad Kurtis up. He rolls him in the ring. Dez gets in too and covers.
ONE!
TWO!
FOOT ON THE ROPE!
Dez can't believe it. He hooks the leg and gets Chad away from the ropes.
ONE!
TWO!
Shoulder up and the match continues. Dez goes for the Stretch Plumb but gets kicked away. Chad gets up and Dez Carter walks into a SUPERKICK! Chad goes for the pin.
ONE!
TWO!
Shoulder up... deja vu! Chad looks frustrated. He goes back up top and once again attempts THE BEST MOONSAULT EVER! It connects this time! Chad covers, hooks the leg!
ONE!
TWO!
KICK OUT! Asuka cheers her man on, as neither man can score a pinfall. Chad snap mares Dez over, and then applies a rear chin lock. He cinches it in. Dez is trying to get up, and gets to one knee. He elbows Chad in the stomach, but Chad doesn't let go. Chad has a side headlock as Dez gets to both feet. Dez shoots Chad into the ropes, and catches Chad with a huge double chop to the chest. Chad crashes to the mat, rises quickly and receives a Japanese Arm Drag. Dez holds on for an armlock. He wrenches hard and Chad gets in the ropes quickly.
BILL HEWSON: The first part of the match was more Chad's pace, now it looks like Dez is gonna force his style on Chad.
Chad is against the ropes and Dez Carter hits him with an PALM STRIKE ACROSS THE CHEST! The crowd is behind Dez as the momentum builds. Chad is sent into the ropes via an Irish Whip. On the rebound, Dez executes a drop toe hold, taking Chad down. Dez gets up and as Chad tries to, he receives a martial arts kick to the back of his head. Chad goes limp. Dez covers.
ONE!
TWO!
SHOULDER UP!
Dez drives a knee to the ribs of Chad, as Chad tries rolling out of the ring again. Dez tries another one, but misses. Chad rolls under the ropes and gets on the ring apron. Dez comes over to him and receives a shoulder to the midsection. Chad leaps over the top rope, and lands in position of the C...K... FINNNAALLLE! That never gets off the ground as Dez holds onto the middle rope. Chad tries to get it but instead gets back body dropped. Dez waits like a preying wolf, and gets Chad to rise. DRAGON SUPLEX FOR A PIN!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE- NO, NOT JUST YET!
BILL HEWSON: The REBEL Champ will not go down.
JACK JONES: Asuka is looking good!
BILL HEWSON: Can you just watch the damn match?
Both men are getting more frustrated with every failed pin attempt. Chad blocks a front face lock and counters with a NORTHERN LIGHT SUPLEX WITH A BRIDGE!
ONE!
TWO!
NOT THREE! Chad is getting really pissed.
BILL HEWSON: Another near fall --- What the hell is HE doing in the NAPW? "High Octane" Will Zaluki just made his way to the ring, folks! A member of the REBEL Pro contingent of the Bluegrass Mafia.
Will jumps up on the apron. Morgan Smythe tells him to get the hell down. Those two are arguing... Chad Kurtis uses the opportunity to grab the REBEL World title, the one he conveniently left in the corner. Dez gets up and Chad throws the belt to him... VAN DAMINATOR ON DEZ CARTER. The belt flies from the ring. Will Zaluki leaves now that the damage is done. Chad makes the cover.
ONE!
TWO!
BILL HEWSON: HE KICKED OUT! How the hell did he do that?
Will didn't leave all the way, and is stunned, just like Chad. Chad picks up Dez Carter and goes behind for a GERMAN SUPLEX! He rolls with it, and ANOTHER GERMAN SUPLEX! He is going for a third and Dez blocks it. Dez does a standing switch after that and GERMAN SUPLEX NO BRIDGE... ALL IMPACT! Dez covers!
ONE!
TWO!
KICKOUT!
Both men get up rather slow. They look at each other and Dez goes for a roaring elbow, but on the spin, "The Show" steps up and GERMAN SUPLEX! He got his third one. He covers!
ONE!
TWO!
FOOT ON THE ROPE!
"The Show" gets up, stunned that the match isn't over. Dez finally gets up and receives a boot to the gut.
CK FINALE!
JACK JONES: It's OVER, Hewson!
WAIT... DEZ CARTER BLOCKS AND GETS HIM IN A FIREMANS CARRY!
GO TO SLEEEEEEP!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
FRANK WARBURTON: The winner of the match and NUMBER ONE CONTENDER for the Heritage Championship, DEZ CARTER!
BILL HEWSON: Back and forth contest, but in the end Dez gets the duke and the Heritage title shot... and I don't think the REBEL World Heavyweight champion is going to be too thrilled when he comes to.
JACK JONES: Hey, he's coming over here! You got screwed, champ!
"THE SHOW" CHAD KURTIS: THIS IS BULLSHIT! DAMN CANADIAN BIASED!
Chad picks up a chair and throws it down in anger. He picks up his belt, and a smile comes over his face. He stares at it, as Will leads him from ringside. Will is repeatedly telling him that his "The Champ". The crowd is chanting "THE SHOW IS OVER"! He yells back, "DAMN RIGHT I'M OVER!" He gets to the back without a confrontation with the fans.
JACK JONES: And that's when I told him to give her the shocker.
BILL HEWSON: WHAT?!
JACK JONES: He used to have an awesome mask, and she always loved Mexican wrestling. Cost me a pretty penny too!
BILL HEWSON: Well, women do love lucha libre...
FRANK WARBURTON: The following tag team contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first...
"American Nightmare" by Rob Zombie blasts over the PA and the crowd boos loudly as Matthew Kurtis and Mandy step out through the curtain. Kurtis snarls at the crowd, threatening some of the fans in the front row.
FRANK WARBURTON: From Wickliffe, Kentucky, and weighing in at three hundred and fifteen pounds, he is the American Nightmare, MATTHEW KURTIS!
Kurtis lumbers up the ring steps and climbs into the ring as the music fades out to "Stone Cold Crazy" by Metallica. This doesn't stop the jeering any.
FRANK WARBURTON: And his tag team partner, from Staten Island, New York, weighing in at two hundred and thirty-five pounds, here is Simply Wrestling... ANDREW ROSSI!
BILL HEWSON: Andrew Rossi does not look pleased at all to be here tonight, especially after the embarrassment he feels he suffered last week losing to Dez Carter.
JACK JONES: You're damn right it was an embarrassment! His tag team partner at week couldn't even get into the country, and his hopes at a title shot against Bruce Richards were shattered. He's looking to get back in the title picture this week with a win over 'LDK' and...
Jack Attack's interrupted as the music changes again, this time to "Follow" by Breaking Benjamin, and "The Falcon" Jacob Venar stands in the entranceway, getting the strongest reaction of his young NAPW career.
FRANK WARBURTON: And their opponents, first, from British Columbia, weighing in at two hundred and thirty pounds, he is The Falcon... JACOB VENAR!
BILL HEWSON: This young kid has made his mark here in NAPW, standing up to Jake Phoenix a few weeks back and giving Phoenix everything he could handle, and last week, he got a huge win over Jason Cruise.
JACK JONES: He's got a hell of a test on his hands this week, because there are two very angry men standing across the ring from him, and he can't be sure he can trust his own tag team partner tonight!
BILL HEWSON: It is pretty odd to see 'LDK' take this young man under his wing, so to speak, but ever since the fall of The Crimes, it looks like Lloyd Rees has turned over a new leaf.
Speaking of... "When The Lights Go Out" by The Black Keys hits the PA and here is the Technical Terror himself, 'LDK' Lloyd Rees! The crowd is still mixed on Rees, but they're finally beginning to lean towards liking him.
FRANK WARBURTON: And his tag team partner, from Wabana, Bell Island, Newfoundland, weighing two hundred forty-seven pounds, here is "LDK"... LLOYD REES!
Rossi and Kurtis are held back in their corner by referee John Sharplin as Venar and Rees get into the ring. Venar poses on the top turnbuckle as Rees stares down Rossi.
BILL HEWSON: There's a lot of bad blood between 'LDK' and Andrew Rossi and this match could end up putting a feather in someone's cap.
JACK JONES: I get the feeling that no one really, truly likes anyone in that ring.
The action starts off with Rees and Rossi still snarling at one another from across the ring, but Kurtis steps in the way, telling Rossi that he's "got this old man". Venar hops back to the apron and referee Sharplin brings the two men to the center of the ring and calls for the bell! Rees and Kurtis circle each other, Kurtis looking to close in, Rees looking for an opening to strike. Kurtis steps in for a collar and elbow tie-up, and Rees ducks under the big man's grasp and heads to a neutral corner, clapping his hands and mocking Kurtis! Kurtis and Rees start circling one another again, but when Kurtis gets to his corner, Rossi yells over at him, "I thought you had him" and tags himself in!
BILL HEWSON: Andrew Rossi is not impressed by the start Matthew Kurtis got off to and he's looking to take matters into his own hands before 'LDK' gets any momentum going.
JACK JONES: Well, if Rees would slow down and let Kurtis get him, we wouldn't have this problem!
Rossi and Rees are jawing at one another as Kurtis angrily gets on the apron. They lock up midring and Rossi takes Rees down with a classic amateur takedown. Rossi floats over and gets a front facelock applied on Rees. Rees slides to his knees and sneaks behind Rossi, cinching in a hammerlock. Rossi and Rees both get to a vertical base, Rossi looking for some hair to grab or some way to reverse this hold, finally sneaking back under and around and putting Rees in a hammerlock of his own! Rees deftly spins around, cinching Rossi up for a Northern Lights suplex, but a bull rush by Rossi gets both men to the ropes, and Rossi grabs on to force a break. Rees steps through the ropes to keep Rossi from cheapshotting him before referee Sharplin backs him up to midring. Venar applauds from the apron as Rees smiles at Rossi... "Gotcha once!" Rossi fumes more as the crowd laughs. Rees heads back over to his corner and tags in Venar, who flips into the ring, getting the crowd excited!
JACK JONES: Rossi's not gonna take kindly to that sort of flashy entrance!
BILL HEWSON: He's definitely going to want to keep this young man on the ground... this kid can really fly!
Rossi and Venar lockup and Rossi gets the advantage with a side headlock. Venar backs Rossi into the ropes and tries to whip him off, but Rossi grabs Venar's long hair and keeps the headlock on! The referee didn't see it! Venar backs Rossi into the near ropes and tries to whip him off again.. same result! Rossi cinches that headlock in harder but Venar backs him to the ropes again. This time Venar does whip Rossi off! Leapfrog by Venar, dropdown on the rebound, and Venar connects the third time around with a picture perfect dropkick! Rossi scoots to the floor as Venar appeals to the crowd!
BILL HEWSON: The Falcon is looking to take off here!
JACK JONES: Not with that brick wall in the way!
That brick wall being Matthew Kurtis! Venar stops short of the American Nightmare, though, and goes back to his corner as Rossi gathers himself! As Rossi stalks around ringside, a "SIM-PLY-AW-FUL" chant breaks out, which Venar leads on! Rossi storms back into the ring and right into a top wristlock by Venar, who drags him to his corner and tags in Rees who comes off the top with a double axe-handle to the shoulder! Rees grabs the arm and neck, snap mares Rossi over, soccer kick lands square in between Rossi's shoulderblades! Rees off the back ropes, cannonball necksnap on Rossi! Rossi slumps over, dazed! Rees covers!
One!
Two!
Rossi kicks out strong. Rees reaches over and tags Venar back in. Venar vaults over the ropes and drives an elbow into the chest of Rossi! Venar tries a cover!
One!
Two!
Rossi rolls the shoulder in time! Venar catches the arm, though, and flips him over! Bermuda Triangle is locked in! Rossi quickly scampers to the ropes and gets the break The referee pulls Venar off of Rossi as Rossi slides through the ropes again.
BILL HEWSON: Andrew Rossi just can't get started in this match, Jack!
JACK JONES: Those guys just won't stay still for Rossi to hit them!
Rossi regroups on the floor while referee John Sharplin puts the count on him. Venar's celebrating in a neutral corner... well, until Matthew Kurtis levels him with a cheap shot, a vicious blindside forearm that crumples The Falcon! Kurtis gets back to his corner as Rossi climbs back into the ring and tags in the big man. Kurtis comes in, stalking his prey as Venar gets to his feet. A hard left hand staggers Venar and a short lariat sends him back to the mat in the neutral corner! Kurtis stands over Venar before dropping a massive knee into the small of the back! Another knee to the back and Venar rolls over to protect himself, right into a cover by Kurtis...
One!
Two!
Venar grabs the bottom rope to save himself! Kurtis isn't all that unhappy about this, as he just picks up Venar and whips him into the ropes, catching him on the rebound with a big spinning side slam! Lazy cover by Kurtis...
One!
Two!
Thr-NO!
Shoulder up for Venar! Kurtis yanks Venar up and throws him in the corner like a sack of potatoes! Kurtis tags in Rossi, who's still shaking off the shoulder damage. Rossi with a hard right to the jaw of Venar! Another! A third sends Venar to his knees! Knee strike to the face! Rossi is just pulverizing this kid!
JACK JONES: Rossi's got that momentum now, everyone better look out!
BILL HEWSON: Venar should have looked out for that knee.
Venar's still on his knees, but his eyes are glassed over, and Rossi looks to take advantage, he picks Venar up and runs in with a wicked lariat! He covers!
One!
Two!
Thr-KICKOUT!
Rossi looks frustrated, and he's taking his frustration out on a prone Venar with forearms and punches to the head! Rossi pulls up Venar and reaches over to tag in Kurtis! Rossi chickenwings the arms back, leaving Venar's head exposed... YAKUZA KICK FROM KURTIS! Rossi celebrates as Kurtis covers!
ONE!
TWO!!
LDK BREAKS IT UP!
Rossi over to take out Rees and it's two on one on the Technical Terror! The referee's trying to restore order and get Rees and Rossi out of the ring and finally Rossi backs off to avoid a DQ! Kurtis throws Rees out of the ring and Rossi tags himself back in again!
"It's time to clip your wings, kid!"
Rossi picks Venar up for the New York Nightmare II, no, knees by Venar! He wriggles free! Venar runs at Rossi... dropkick, no! Venar's got his legs around Rossi's neck... UNKINDNESS! Both men are down! Venar's got no one to tag to, though!
JACK JONES: I told you LDK would leave Venar high and dry!
BILL HEWSON: From the look of Lloyd Rees in front of our broadcast position, I wouldn't say he's doing that, he's trying his hardest to get to his feet.
JACK JONES: Too bad Rossi already is!
Rossi is to his feet and moving over to Venar, but Venar catches him with a lucky kick right on the kneecap that drops Rossi to his knees. Venar gets to his feet... UPPERCUT SUPERKICK! Sweat and spit flies from Rossi's face! LDK's back up and Venar makes the tag! Kurtis manages to reach over and tag Rossi! Rees ambushes Kurtis as he tries to get in the ring! Forearms stagger the big man! Rees springboards off the ropes!
Caught.
SPINEBUSTER.
Kurtis slams Rees down with massive impact! Kurtis snarls at Rees and picks him up. Rees is out on his feet, Kurtis measures him up...
CLOTHESLINE FROM HELL!
Rossi tags Kurtis on the shoulder! Kurtis lifts Rees up... BLUEGRASS BOMB! Kurtis covers and the referee tells him to get out of the ring! Rossi tagged in and Kurtis doesn't realize it! Kurtis burns a hole through Rossi with his eyes as he gets out of the ring! Rossi covers!
ONE!
TWO!!
THRE-VENAR BUSTS IT UP AT THE LAST SECOND!
Kurits back in, ENZUIGIRI BY VENAR! Kurtis tumbles over the top rope! Rossi up to one knee... RUNNING FAME-ASSER BY VENAR! Venar is fired up! He's going up top...
SPREAD
MY
WINGS
CONNECTS ON ROSSI! The swanton lands flush on Rossi! Venar slides out as Rees crawls over on top of Rossi!
ONE!
Kurtis getting to his feet on the floor!
TWO!!
Kurtis shrugs! There's no help for Rossi here!
THREE!!! The crowd goes nuts!
FRANK WARBURTON: Here are your winners, "LDK" LLOYD REES AND "THE FALCON" JACOB VENAR!
BILL HEWSON: A big win for Rees and Venar here! Rees gets the pinfall, but Jacob Venar did all the damage at the end on both Kurtis and Rossi!
JACK JONES: He cheated! He wasn't the legal man! And Kurtis could've saved him!
BILL HEWSON: Kurtis getting into the ring as Rees and Venar head out to the winner's share of the purse!
Rees and Venar soak in the reaction of the crowd as Matthew Kurtis looks over Andrew Rossi. Kurtis... well, unhappy would be putting it mildly. Kurtis picks Rossi up.. uh oh. Kurtis signaling for another Bluegrass Bomb... and this time it's on Rossi! High angle powerbomb right in the middle of the ring and Kurtis spits on Rossi as he leaves the ring! Bad times for Andrew Rossi indeed.
JACK JONES: And ever since that day, I have never paid full price for a Taco Bell meal!
FRANK WARBURTON: The next match is scheduled for one fall, and is for the Heritage Championship! Introducing the challenger! Weighing in at one hundred and eighty pounds! THIS IS STEIN!
System of a Down plays over the loudspeakers, and out stalks the former Delivery Man, still wearing the tattered scraps of his old uniform. He looks around at the cheering masses and attempts to smile. He stumbles down to ringside and enters the ring.
JACK JONES: Oh, great, it's Lurch.
BILL HEWSON: Ever since his return at Anniversary Assault, Stein has been competing like he hasn't missed a day!
JACK JONES: Well, it's been a year since he left and I for one can say I didn't miss him! One win and he gets a Heritage title shot?
BILL HEWSON: He did hold the Heritage title under the old Provincial name. I can understand why Winchell gave him another shot.
BANG BANG TO THE ROCK AND ROLL! The audience gets off their feet and cheers as Stone Zellor saunters through the entrance.
FRANK WARBURTON: And his opponent! From Staten Island, New York, weighing in at one hundred and seventy one pounds! He is the Heritage Champion! This is STONE ZELLOR!
Stone walks down the ramp towards the ring, where Stein's inspecting him, head half-cocked. As the Heritage champion enters the ring, he studies his opponent and smirks. Stein does nothing but return the glance, tilting his head like a bird.
BILL HEWSON: Both men sizing each other up here. Although in Stein's case, it's almost as if he's analyzing Stone for strengths and weaknesses.
Stone walks up to Stein, looking down into the face of the small odd man. The size advantage definitely goes to Zellor. But before Stone faces off against his opponent tonight, there's one piece of unfinished business. Not taking his eyes of Stein, Stone's hand lashes out to the side, pointing at the sound booth. Music pipes out over the speakers, something generically hiphoppy, and Stone struts his stuff. The running man. The robot. The moonwalk. Popping. Locking. All around the block-ing. And the big finale, the 1080 headspin finishing off into the splits. The music stops, and the crowd is OFF! THE! HOOK! Stone slides back up, and motions to Stein. Stein just looks at Stone for a second. He looks down at his hands, and they slowly ball up into fists. Stein's arms go down to his sides and there's silence. No music. Just Stein looking down at his fists. He moves both fists up to waist height, and brings them down on one side of his body. The fists go back up to his waist and down to the other side of his waist. Back and forth, like pistons, his arms go to either side of his waist. And gradually, it fades, as Stone's just standing there, wondering what the hell just happened. A small clap halfheartedly breaks out among the crowd for Stein's "dancing" "skills." "Nice job, bro," says Stone, "but I think I won that one."
Stone offers his hand, and Stein takes it. Anthony Uruburu calls for the bell, Stone is ready to lock up, and Stein immediately goes for the collar-and-elbow, even with the size difference. Zellor gets the upper hand, and manages to suplex Stein to the mat. Stone drops the elbow into the chest of Stein, gets up and does it again. Stone covers, and gets half of a one count before Stein pushes him off. The Heritage champion picks up Stein by his unruly hair, and delivers a standing dropkick, knocking Stein off of his feet.
JACK JONES: Stone Zellor is treating Stein like a ragdoll here!
BILL HEWSON: I wouldn't count Stein out yet. Stone has never dealt with the former Provincial champion before.
Stone grabs Stein, pulling him up and throwing him into the turnbuckle. Stone then runs at him with an avalanche, bowling over the small man. But Stein manages to grab the throat of Stone, and throws him back. Stone can't believe his eyes! The crowd ooohs. Stein stalks over to Stone, picks him up and delivers a punishing sidewalk slam! Stein covers. One! Tw- Stone lifts his shoulder, and Stein lets go, getting to his feet, looking impassively at Zellor. Zellor gets back up, wide-eyed at the feat of strength he was just a part of. Stein motions for a lock-up, and Zellor nods. They grapple, and Stone manages to gain the advantage, spinning around Stein and grabbing his legs, pulling him to the mat. A figure four leglock by Stone!
BILL HEWSON: Stone's trying to take Stein down with a leg submission.
JACK JONES: Well, hey, Stein might be the smallest guy on the roster, but if you take out the legs of any competitor, there's not much they can do to you.
Stone has the move locked in, and he looks across at Stein, who's taking it and just staring back. Stone wrenches the leg, to no reaction from Stein. "Come on!" All of a sudden, there's a little light behind the eyes of Stein. He smiles subtly, and nods. "Oh. Ow. No, Stone. Please. Stop." Stone looks at Stein like he's insane. Stein nods again. "Please for the love of all that is holy, stop. My ankle has been crushed beyond repair. Oh, the agony. Oh. The agony." Stone, realizing this just isn't working, releases the hold, and Stein stands right back up. Pimp slap by Stone Zellor, and Stein just takes it. Stein winds up. A RETURNED PIMP SLAP. Stone totally flips over due to that one. He holds his cheek, looking at Stein with astonishment.
BILL HEWSON: Well, it looks like Stone's off his game here today. He just doesn't know what to do with Stein.
JACK JONES: I know what to do with Stein. Shove him in a burlap sack and throw him into the North Saskatchewan River.
Stein lumbers over to Stone, who wraps himself in the ropes. "No sir!" Uruburu is in the thick of it, but Stein has already backed off. And Stone launches himself out of the ropes, nailing a discus clothesline to flatten Stein. He goes for the cover. One! Tw-Stone is THROWN off Stein, and rolls out of the ring. He walks around, getting his bearings, and Stein's gaze just follows him around. Uruburu starts the twenty count. At three, Stone rolls in, runs straight at Stein, and gives him an knee lift. Stein bends at the waist, which is all Stone needs to grab the lighter man and deliver a sitout powerbomb! The crowd cheers, and Stone keeps a hold for the pinfall. One! Two! A kick to the head of Stone makes him release the hold. Stone's right back on top of Stein, however, and he picks him up and flips him upside down. TOMBSTONE! And...
Stein sits up.
BILL HEWSON: He's the living dead!
JACK JONES: Well, it was no Jake Phoenix Tombstone...
Stein gets back up. The crowd is amazed, and Stone's flabbergasted. Stein takes the throat of Stone, and presses Zellor over his head. He drops him onto the canvas. Zellor cries out in pain, and Stein covers his opponent. One! Two! Stone grabs the ropes. Uruburu calls for the break, and Stein complies. Stein pulls Stone up and throws him into the ropes. Stone runs back at the former Delivery Man. Flapjack! Stone's face is planted into the mat. Stein covers. One. Two! T-Kickout by the Heritage champ! Stein gets up, no emotion shows on his face, but his right hand twitches suddenly.
JACK JONES: Did you see that?
BILL HEWSON: See what?
JACK JONES: Never mind. I must have been seeing things.
Stone gets up, and rushes Stein, knocking them both through the ropes and onto the floor. Anthony Uruburu starts with the count. One! Two! Stone picks up Stein and bodyslams him onto the floor. He then climbs the turnbuckle. Three! Stein gets up. MISSILE DROPKICK for the top rope! It nails Stein in the face, knocking him back onto the floor. And Stone has grabbed his knee, shouting in pain. Six! Seven! Stein gets up, and looks at Stone with concern. He starts to pick up his opponent, but Stone hollers louder. Stein lets go and looks on, thinking. Ten! Eleven! Stein looks at Uruburu inside the ring, counting away to twenty. And Stein walks stiltingly to the ring. Stone starts crawling slowly himself. Thirteen! Stone's halfway to the ring apron, Stein rolls under the ropes to get back inside. Fifteen. Stone stops, holding his knee. But he tries to stand up so he can get into the ring. Stein's trying to coax him back in, and the crowd's shouting "Stoney! Stoney!" He stands up. Seventeen! Stone grabs onto the ring apron, but his leg buckles and he falls, taking the apron sleeve with him.
Eighteen! Stone tries again!
Nineteen!
Stone grabs for the rope, retaining it but his knee buckles again, and he can't get into the ring before Ururburu counts again.
Twenty! Uruburu calls for the bell, and it rings.
FRANK WARBURTON: The winner of this match by countout, Stein!
Uruburu holds up the arm of Stein, who looks on with a shade of concern on his features at Stone, who sits back on the floor.
FRANK WARBURTON: However, the Heritage title cannot be won by countout or disqualification, so your Heritage champion is still Stone Zellor!
BILL HEWSON: Talk about guts! Stone tried his hardest to get back into the ring after injuring his knee when he dropkicked Stein from the top rope, but it just wasn't enough.
Uruburu grabs the title and slides under the ropes, handing it to Zellor. The ref then takes the shoulder of the champion and leads him towards the back. Stone's theme music hits as Stein looks on. Stone hobbles up the stage towards the back, and the music infects him. He boogies up there, the leg looking fine. He turns around and holds his belt up high for people to see, and the crowd cheers that Stone seems in good spirits! Stone walks for two steps, stops, and hobbles once more out the curtain.
JACK JONES: ... and that's just one of many things I never expected to learn in bible college.
BILL HEWSON: I wasn't aware they taught "Loan-sharking and Kneecap Busting 204" at bible college.
JACK JONES: Come to think of it, it wasn't ever posted on the calendar and I never saw Professor Scammerton on the faculty list. Hey! I got ripped off a thousand bucks!
BILL HEWSON: And it only took you twenty-nine years to figure it out.
Cue up: "Zero" by Smashing Pumpkins. Dan Ryan steps out of the curtain and gets a huge ovation. Ryan, in sweat pants and a black "Team Phenom" t-shirt and sunglasses walks down to the ring and rolls in under the bottom rope. He surveys the crowd and smirks a bit as the noise dies down, then motions for a microphone...
DAN RYAN: First thing's first. At Aces High, I was supposed to compete alongside Andrew Rossi to take on Bruce Richards and Dex Carter. Some issues at the border prevented that from happening, and for that I'm fully responsible and I apologize to any fans who expected to see me in action.
The fans clap for the honesty, they don't seem to be holding any grudges.
There's been a lot of hype surrounding my signing to New Alberta and I've heard my name thrown around just a little bit in the process.
Donovan Astros (boo), you brought me up at Aces High. You're a guy I recognize, or at least....you're a type that I recognize. Your basic 'talk shit while the other guy's not in the building' kinda guy. Now I do understand that you're a former champ and I realize that your schtick seems to be getting you places and whatnot. Still, I'm in the building tonight. Make the smart decision, my friend. Keep my name out of your mouth this week.
And just so you know? You don't have to beg for a match with me, not ever. Or hell, who even needs a match? I'm not booked tonight. I can come backstage and slap the sunglasses right off your face. Just leave the door unlocked, boss. I'll leave it all up to you.
Now, having said that - there's another ---
Metallica hits, and that can mean only one man is coming to the ring. And it ain't the Sandman. Or Mariano Rivera. It's Andrew Rossi...and the boos are coming down like hail as he makes his way to the ring, microphone in hand. He gets close enough to Ryan to touch him, but makes no move towards his boss in another promotion. He doesn't exactly look happy after the events of earlier this evening, and now he's going to take it out on somebody. If it were me, I wouldn't take it out on Dan Ryan...
ANDREW ROSSI: Hey Johnny-Come-Lately, how the hell are ya? Nice of you to show up a week late to our friggin' tag match! You know what, I don't give a shit if I work for you in the States. When you're in Edmonton, you're in MY yard. On MY turf! So while you're in my ring, you can shut your mouth and let me say my piece.
Ryan shrugs and extends his hands, as if to say "the floor is yours".
Rossi: Now I am sick of guys like you prancing into NAPW and being placed into main events when I've been toiling away on the undercard with twice the credentials they've got. KRENSHOV has more arrests on his record than title victories, yet HE gets the one-on-one title shot that I should have received at Anniversary Assault? Nonsense, pure nonsense! And here you are! You come in with all this World Title Gold - you and I both know that it doesn't mean anything except you've had success in other places. Don't mean you shouldn't have to work your way up the card before being placed into the main event - and in the process kamikaze-ing my (BLEEP) career!
CAN YOU ALL SHUT THE (BLEEP) UP! MEN ARE SPEAKING IN HERE! Yeah, you in the front row - shut your girl up before I smack youse both one!
Like I was saying, Danno. I don't like you coming in here and trying to upstage me. I'm on a path to the World Championship that started over a year ago. Lord knows that management will probably fine me for this, but (BLEEP) them. I'm gonna show everybody that Andrew Rossi ain't a joke!
Rossi pauses, staring right into Dan Ryan's eyes, ignoring the fans and some catcalls of "You got beat! You got beat!"
ANDREW ROSSI: And if you get in my way, I'll gladly smack you right in your face.
Rossi brings the mic down to his side and gets face to face with Ryan, looking up slightly. Ryan brings his mic back up...
DAN RYAN: You finished?
Rossi narrows his eyes, but doesn't reply...
Ryan's eyebrows go up slightly, questioningly - then he mouths the word 'good' and turns to leave, with Rossi in shock that he's leaving. Before he makes it to the ropes however, Rossi charges toward him and clubs him over the back of the head with the microphone still in his hand.
Rossi pounds away at Ryan and gets him down to a knee and finally to a prone position on the mat, where he begins stomping away. Finally, Rossi turns to the crowd pointing down at Ryan in disgust and drawing loud boos. Rossi reaches down to pull Ryan to his feet and as he does, Ryan snatches on of his legs and pulls them out from under him, dropping Rossi to his back. Ryan is on him quickly, turning him over to his stomach and quickly grabbing him around the waist.
With a yell, he pulls him up off the mat and over with a German Suplex that sends Rossi flying toward the ropes.
Ryan gets up into a crouch and sets to charge as Rossi gets to his feet, but Rossi sees it and quickly slips out of the ring to the floor. Ryan stays in his crouched position and smiles at Rossi as he backs away and makes his way around the ring to head backwards up the ramp.
BILL HEWSON: I don't know why anybody would try to piss off Dan Ryan, Jack Attack, but Andrew Rossi's night can't possibly get any worse.
JACK JONES: You know I said that once on a bad night, and then of course, I got scabies. So it always COULD get worse.
BILL HEWSON: You disgust me. Dan Ryan, ladies and gentlemen!
Zero hits again as Rossi takes off, wild-eyed. Dan Ryan hits the corners as the fans pop!
FRANK WARBURTON: The next contest is set for one fall, and is going to be a Tag Team Superstar Rules match! Introducing first...
Darkness. Silence, other than the buzz of the crowd.
"Do not attempt to adjust the picture."
The first guitar riff from "Cult of Personality" by Living Colour blares over the PA.
"We will control the horizontal."
Guitar riff #2.
"We will control the vertical."
"Cult of Personality" kicks in as Jake Phoenix and Donovan Astros come rolling down the aisle... the crowd gives them the heat, but suddenly the tone changes. Phoenix & Astros don't realize they're being trailed by Deathrow and Ravager who both hold steel chairs, the crowd goes wild. Ravager tosses the chair to Jake's head! Astros gets a kick to the ribs by Deathrow. Deathrow brings Astros up to his feet and rolls him into the ring, Astros gets to his feet just before Deathrow enters the ring, so he stomps onto Deathrow's back, then a taunt to the crowd. BOOOOO! He does that scratching under my neck to say "(BLEEP) you" without actually saying "(BLEEP) you." More boos hit Astros, but it doesn't bother him, he moves back to Deathrow and falls in line for a school boy.
ONE
TWO
KICK OUT.
JACK JONES: A wrestling move? From Tommy Deathrow?
BILL HEWSON: It's Superstar Rules, he can do whatever we want! These four men didn't want to wait for the introductions, this is already out of control!
Over at Ravager's spot, he's punching in Jake's head in hopes of blood pour. Nothing. Ravager leaves Jake and goes under the ring and fetches a garbage can. Jake is already up, he locks in a German Suplex onto Ravager onto the concrete. Holy shit! Phoenix rolls Ravager into the ring and covers, Ravager kicks out at two. The crowd admires the heart in Ravager. Jake moves over to the trash can and takes an over head swing with the trash can to Ravager's head...Too slow. Ravager's up and takes Jake's head off with a mean clothesline. One, two, kick out. Phoenix rolls to the outside.
Ravager gets up and picks up the trash can from before, a bit dented, but it can do the job, whatever that job is. He goes to strike Jake with the trash can and gets Speared to the ground. Jake gets up and bringing out a table from under the ring, he sets it up nicely and takes a punch to the back of the neck by Deathrow. Tommy then places Jake onto the table and hits him with three heavy clubs to his chest, before moving over to Ravager, he whispers something. He helps Ravager get to his feet, he goes straight into the ring and passed the downed Astros, and onto the top turnbuckle. Ravager goes flying in the air and crashes onto Jake's body! The table explodes in a collage of wood shavings and particles as the crowd chants:
"HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!
HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!"
JACK JONES: Holy hell!
BILL HEWSON: There's no DQ, no count-out and these four men have scores to settle!
Tommy D. back in the ring now, brings Astros to his feet and sends him into the ropes. Upon Astros' return, Tommy goes to catch him with a Front Atomic Drop, Astros reverses Tommy's plan into an Astrolabe. A cover. One, two, kick out. Astros leaves the ring to go get a chair and notices carnage and wants to add the Astros touch to it. Ravager is crawling into the ring... and Astros has an open shot.
He whacks the chair over to Ravager's skull.
Astros with a cover!
ONE
TWO
THRE -- DEATHROW FLIES THROUGH THE SKY BREAKING THE PIN FALL!
BILL HEWSON: STD walking a little awkwardly after that, Deathrow may have tweaked his knee.
JACK JONES: With all that beer in his system, think he even notices?
Deathrow picks up Jake Phoenix and sends his head into the ring post, one, twice, three times, four times, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten for the finish. Astros gets back to his feet and brings Ravager to his as well, he scoops up, well tries to, Ravager battle his way out and delivers a knee to Donavan's nose in the process, causing him to bleed. Tommy tosses Jake into the crowd and stands on the guard rail, he hits with Jake with a Double Axe Handle.
JACK JONES: People still do that move?
Donavan rakes the eyes of Ravager --- then a swing to Ravager, a block from Ravager, a head to Donavan, another headbutt, a couple more, three, four.
JACK JONES: What the hell is wrong with Ravager? I accidentally hit my head when I'm entering my car, I'm ready to pass out and go to the ICU. Ravager, he can headbutt this guy all day and all night.
BILL HEWSON: It's called being angry.
JACK JONES: No, it's called shutin' up.
In the crowd, Deathrow enjoys himself a nice beer straight from the fan's mug. Tommy's been energized, he grabs Phoenix by the neck and DDT's him into the concrete and takes a fan's chair and hacks it at Jake's back. Tommy walk back to the ring, tosses the chair over the rail and hops it and goes looking for Astros. He finds Astros in a Full Nelson and Ravager screaming "TOSS THE CHAIR!" Deathrow maybe drunk, or may not due to tolerance, regardless, he's still able follow orders well. The chair toss makes the simple nose bleed even worse. Jake climbs over the rails and makes his way into the ring, Deathrow follows, leaving Ravager pounding Donovan. Deathrow and Phoenix lock up for the first time in this whole match. Phoenix gets a suplex in on Deathrow and then makes a leave for the ring, he goes after Ravager. A swing and a the hit man is down. Phoenix picks Ravager up in a huge gorilla press ---
DROPPED THROAT FIRST ON THE GUARDRAIL!!!
Ravager is convulsing on the concrete, but Astros signals to Phoenix to get back in the ring. Back towards the now lone Tommy Deathrow
Deathrow awaits them both with nothing but fists and elbows.
He knocks Jake out of the ring as he enters, and goes to work on Donovan --- Astros hits a low blow on Tommy and crushes his back with a nearby chair, then leaves to get more chairs. Jake comes back into the ring, he picks up the downed Tommy and sets him up for the power bomb. Donovan returns with the chairs and sets them up, open, facing. Phoenix shakes his head and Astros grins. He grabs the chairs.
And turns them around.
Two open chairs, backs against each other.
BILL HEWSON: Oh no not the powerbomb on the OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! TOMMY DEATHROW HAS BEEN BROKEN IN HALF! POWERBOMB! Powerbombed onto the spines of two chairs!
ONE
TWO
THREE!
It doesn't stop there, the winners continue to stomp on Deathrow until Ravager rushes into the ring with a chair. Donovan avoids getting his head smacked off within inches, but Jake isn't so lucky. He takes a hard smack to the head and then gets a Lariat out of the ring. Jake lands on his feet though, smiling through the pain. He gave Deathrow what he deserved. The Murder City Devils take off, Astros bloody.
Ravager gets in the ring and starts to help Deathrow up. He's not thrilled with how this match went down.
And then Mickey Mouse crawls out from underneath the ring and slips in.
BILL HEWSON: What ... the... hell?
JACK JONES: No, no, you ask the WINNERS what they're going to do now! Not the losers. You don't lose and go to Disneyland!
"Mickey" is in the ring, a facemask over black mask, wearing a ratty Mickey Mouse costume. Ravager gets the sensation that he and Deathrow are not alone, but he turns around too late to prevent Mickey Mouse from blasting him in the face with a steel chair. Ravager goes down to one knee, looking up with an expression of complete bemusement and pain. "Mickey" rips off his mask ---
Revealing another mask.
A BLACK MASK.
JACK JONES: No. No. NOOOOOO!
BILL HEWSON: IT'S THE MAN IN BLACK! THE MAN IN BLACK HAS RETURNED! BUT... WHO IS HE THIS TIME?
JACK JONES: He doesn't like Ravager, that's for sure!
The MIB kicks Ravager square in the nuts, then bends him over and with one quick stump-pulling motion, delivers a DEATHROW DRIVER ON TOP OF A STEEL CHAIR. Ravager didn't ask for this! What the hell is going on? The crowd is booing the Man In Black, who stands over Ravager. We can't make out his expression, but he suddenly locks eyes with the rising Tommy Deathrow. Deathrow blinks through a cloudy haze in his brain.
The MIB winks at STD and blows him a kiss, then escapes the ring and heads out through the crowd. Deathrow looks confused, then grins, licking his lips and rubbing his nipples.
BILL HEWSON: ...
JACK JONES: ...
BILL HEWSON: Folks, you just saw it yourself... somebody get the hell out here to help Ravager and clean up this mess! What the HELL just happened?!
JACK JONES: ...and now you know the REAL story.
BILL HEWSON: And all this time, I thought they made the fries at Dairy Queen out of potatoes.
JACK JONES: You'd never know they were turnips, not in a million years!
Frank Warburton is in the ring, the fans know what's next and they're PUMPED.
ATTACK. 30 seconds to Mars. No, it's not how fast the man can send you there after an uppercut, but damn, it COULD be. There is no denying that the man stepping through the curtain is the biggest, strongest physical specimen on either the NAPW or REBEL rosters! The crowd showers Krenshov with a healty dose of boos, but there are certainly some Krenshov supporters out there. The big man himself comes out in wrestling trunks.
FRANK WARBURTON: The following match is scheduled for one fall, and is for the NAPW WORLD TITLE! Introducing first, the challenger. From Middletown, New Jersey... he stands at six-feet, nine inches tall and weighs three-hundred and fifty pounds!
BILL HEWSON: One of the most controversial men to step into an NAPW ring, well, ever is this man right here, Kenny Krenshov.
JACK JONES: It's pronounced KRENSHOV, Hewson.
BILL HEWSON: Uh... right. Krenshov signed one of The Beast's open contracts for an NAPW World Title shot. Krenshov feels he was passed over in favor of his allies time and again... but tonight, he has his opportunity!
JACK JONES: It's about time some wrongs were righted in this rudderless sailboat of a company! Who's the captain? Huh? Mike Rotunda? I don't SEE Mike Rotundo, do you Hewson?
BILL HEWSON: What the... Jack, you didn't take your pills before the show! Take them right now!
JACK JONES: I don't wanna!
BILL HEWSON: Take your pills!
JACK JONES: You can't make me! KRENSHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOV---*
Jones' suddenly cuts out, and all the fans hear is hacking, gagging, and then the glub-glub of water being forced down somebody's throat. A small group of fans chant "Hewson, Hewson!". Annnnnyways. Krenshov is in the ring, a huge specimen dwarfing Frank Warburton. He makes the "belt" motion around his waist. Which, of course, universally signals that he wants the belt. If you didn't know that, well, what did you think he was doing? He's wearing TIGHTS, he doesn't need a belt to hold his pants up!
Kay.
Quiet down now.
"NO ONE'S GONNA TAKE ME ALIVE!
THE TIME HAS COME TO MAKE THINGS RIGHT!"
CROWD.
EX.
PLODES
FRANK WARBURTON: AND NOW! From St. Albert Alberta, weighing in at two-hundred and seventy pounds, standing six-feet three inches... he is the NAPW WORLD CHAMPION... BRUCE! THE BEAAAAAAST! RICHARRRRRRRRDS!
BILL HEWSON: The Polish Hall on their feet for the champion, Jack Attack! What do you say to that?
JACK JONES: Uh... Beast... wrestle-man... ooh, daffodils!
Hewson looks perplexed, then looks at the pill bottle in his hand.
BILL HEWSON: "Do not exceed two caplets per four hours." Let's see, I gave him... ten.
Jones slumps forward on the announce table, drooling like a grinning idiot. Which, well, is literal. He is drooling, he is grinning, and he is an idiot.
BILL HEWSON: Great Scott!
The Beast strides down the aisle in his trademark duster and cowboy hat, slapping hands with the fans. He jumps up to the the aisle and turns out to face the crowd, opening the coat to reveal the NAPW World title belt. Finally he steps in. Referee John Sharplin is telling Krenshov to say in his corner. Krenshov just grins slightly, knowing that he could run Sharplin over like so much roadkill if he wanted to. Bruce hits the corner, then gets down to business. He removes the hat ritualistically, then the coat. He and Krenshov lock eyes as The Beast undoes the title belt, handing to Sharplin. Krenshov eyes the gold greedily as Sharplin holds it up high for all to see.
Then.
DING DING DING.
BILL HEWSON: Jack? Well, looks like I'm on my own. This is the first-EVER meeting of The Beast and KRENSHOV, ladies and gentlemen! I can think of only one other time besides last week in which they even occupied the same space, and that was in a brief tussle last September. It may not be pretty, but it's going to be physical, and here we go!
Physical?
OH HELL YEAH.
The Beast and Krenshov lock up like two damned pit bulls scrapping in Michael Vicks' backyard! Jockeying for strength, The Beast is - for a change - overpowered as the big Krenshov muscles him into the corner. Sharplin calls for the break and Krenshov does, giving a surly sneer to the crowd. Krenshov FLEXES the bulging biceps in intimidation. Beast isn't fazed, but he wants a test of strength. Krenshov with six inches and eighty pounds on The Beast, but he links hands. Beast raises his other hand... LINKS.
HURRRRRRRRRRRNNNNNNN
The two men SHOULDER TO SHOULDER straining with all their iron sinew to overpower the other one, slamming into each other like two locomotives grinding against one another! But for all The Beast's power, Krenshov is slowly... over...powering... him...
Bending him backwards...
THE BEAST SHAKING! SURGE OF ADRENALINE! He's forcing his way back, actually forcing Krenshov back as the crowd goes bonkers! A guttural roar! Forcing Krenshov back to the neutral base, but Krenshov's turn to surge! Demonic grunt! Beast trying to hold his ground through sheer force of will against the force of NATURE that is KRENSHOV!
KNEE LIFT!
BILL HEWSON: Krenshov takes the advantage here, throwing some stiff right hands right at the world champion! He's got The Beast into the ropes, irish whip... OH MY! Krenshov catches Beast with a shoulderblock that knocks the champion down HARD, and folks, Krenshov barely had to budge himself to do that! The rock of Gibaltrar in the middle of the ring!
Krenshov lets Beast get to his feet, he's enjoying this. Krenshov wants Beast to try again. It looks like pride is getting the better of the champion. Rebound off the ropes, Beast plows into Krenshov... doesn't budge him. Beast says fine, what do YOU got, Kenny? Krenshov scowls at the use of his christian name and takes two big steps, then rebounds off the ropes and shoulderblocks The Beast.
Beast STANDS HIS GROUND.
Krenshov looks surprised. "COME ON THEN!" Beast hits the ropes this time, rebound shoulderblock, Krenshov rocks ever-so-slightly, but stands HIS ground like 350 pounds of so much meat. Beast cocks his head, then gestures to Krenshov to take his turn. This time, the challenger hits the ropes at high velocity and SLAMS into The Beast, rocking him...
But not taking him off his feet.
BILL HEWSON: And I think we are seeing signs of that famous temper starting to flare! Hold onto your hats, cowboys!
JACK JONES: ... cow... boys!
Krenshov's nostrils flare and now he and The Beast are FOREHEAD TO FOREHEAD IN THE CENTER OF THE DAMN RING, JAWING AT EACH OTHER. Tempers flaring --- FISTS FLYING! THE ROUGHNECK! THE BRUISER! THE BEAST! KRENSHOV! ATTEMPTING TO CLUB ONE ANOTHER INTO SUBMISSION! Krenshov brings the HAMMER DOWN on the back of The Beast, then sends his man into the ropes, Beast reverses, Krenshov shot in! Rebound Beast looking for a lariat, that thuds across the bare chest of Krenshov and pushes him back, but not down. Beast decides to CHOP the man down to size, WHOOO! WHOOO! WHOOO! Irish whip, Beast looking for HOLY SHIT RUNNING BIG BOOT! Whatever Beast was looking for he didn't get it, instead he got his head damn near knocked clean off by Krenshov's big boot! And we're talking size 18 big boot, cats and kittens! Krenshov with the first cover of the match one, two, Beast kicks out with power! Krenshov snorts, grabbing a handful of hair and pulling Beast up. With a roar of fury, Krenshov grabs Beast with both hands around the neck and lifts him up, literally tossing him like a sack of potatoes into the turnbuckle.
SQUASH.
Krenshov avalanches Beast in the corner. The champion sags. Krenshov runs out of the corner, turns around and charges up again SMASH. Beast is holding himself up by the ropes and Krenshov again does his turnaround, other corner, CHARRRRRGE
WHAM.
Krenshov stands out and this time Beast is so much putty, sinking down into the corner.
BILL HEWSON: Not even Jake Phoenix has physically dominated the champion like this man Krenshov is! Three-hundred and fifty pounds at high velocity just REPEATEDLY flattening The Beast! It hurts just watching, Jack Attack.
JACK JONES: Great googly moogly!
BILL HEWSON: Are you back?
JACK JONES: Fabbity foobity!
BILL HEWSON: Uh huh. Well, I can't say it's an unwelcome change of pace...
Krenshov lifts Beast up, measuring him in the corner, then delivering a sickening sounding overhand chop, the sound echoing through the Polish Hall as fans dance on their feet, faces showing the wincing they feel just watching it. Krenshov puts a finger to his lips. "Shhhhhhhh." The crowd, awed, quiets down.
THUDDDDDD
"OOOOOOOOOOOHHHH!"
Beast's face tells the story, if the horrible sound of a hand trying to cave in another man's chest didn't already. Krenshov grabs Beast by the wrist and sends him at a run into the opposite corner. Beast hits with his back and stumbles out in a daze... and Krenshov FLOORS him with a running forearm smash that Lex Luger can only envy. Krenshov hooks a leg
ONE!
TWO!
Beast kicks out!
BILL HEWSON: Beast is a strong man, maybe the strongest man in NAPW, but when a guy like Krenshov is hitting you that hard, that many times, there's only so long you can last! We may be looking at the next NAPW champion right there in KRENSHOV --- a man who was once kicked out of this promotion for attacking a fan!
Krenshov again pulls The Beast up, and this time he hooks him for a front-face lock - BEAST THROWING SHOTS INTO THE GUT! Beast fighting his way out, NO, Krenshov drives a big knee into the breadbasket, cutting off the air. NOW. SUPLEX... making him think about it.
BILL HEWSON: Now wait a minute! We've seen THE BEAST do this to his opponents, holding them up there for 60 seconds! What is Krenshov trying to prove?
JACK JONES: Elementary, my dear Watson! Pie!
And holding him up there, holding up TWO HUNDRED AND SEVENTY POUNDS. Krenshov puts an arm down. ONE ARMED. Holy hell. Holding The Beast up, holding him, puts the arm back up, HOW LONG? The crowd is counting!
57...58...59...60!
And then Krenshov, instead of suplexing his man back, twists Beast and rops him forward, catching him on the way down for a THUNDERING POWERSLAM. Krenshov hooks the leg! ONE! TWO! THRE---KICKOUT!
And for the first time, Krenshov looks angry at the count. One-two-three he slaps into his palms, Sharplin flashes him the HORNS. Signalling two. Krenshov snarls and grabs The Beast by the hair, roughly yanking him up once more. He holds his arms open...
AND LOCKS ON THE BEAR HUG.
Krenshov twisting, tossing, violently whipping The Beast around while squeezing, SQUEEZING, CRUSHING THE LIFE out of the World Champion! The Beast tries to fight out, but Krenshov lowers his base and hooks his grip tighter. Bruce tries to undoe the fingers behind his back, tries to pry the arms, but Krenshov shakes him violently and squeeeeezes! And Bruce, the unthinkable is happening, BRUCE IS FADING.
John Sharplin grabs The Beast's arm and lifts it up... it drops.
That's ONE.
Krenshov baring his teeth, gritted, veins throbbing in his neck!
Sharplin holds up The Beast's arm a second time, and it falls.
The crowd is trying to rally the champion! The chants of "BEAST, BEAST, BEAST" are growing louder, but The Beast looks to be out on his feet...
BILL HEWSON: We are seconds away from a brand new NAPW Champion, and John Sharplin... I don't think The Beast has anything left, can you imagine being compressed by arms that big? Sharplin lifts The BEast's arm, and it DROPSssssNnnnnnNNNOOO! THE BEAST IS ALIVE! THE BEAST IS ALIIIIIVE!
JACK JONES: AND SO AM I! HOW IS THE BEAST NOT DEAD?
BILL HEWSON: He won't die that easily!
The Beast is fighting now! Krenshov still has the hold on, however --- Beast punches him straight in the nose! Krenshov shakes it off, grunting, but Beast fires again! And now with BELL CLAPS on the side of the head! ONE! TWO! A THIRD --- AND THE BEAST IS FREE! HE HITS THE ROPES --- KRENSHOV! BELLY TO BELLY SUPLEX!
ONE!
TWO!
BEAST KICKS OUT!
KRENSHOV once again hauls Beast up, as he has done so many times in this match, and cuts his thumb across his throat. It's time for the TOTAL ECLIPSE. He hooks Beast in the front face lock and goes to haul him up, but The Beast uses his leg to block! Krenshov tries again, Beast blocks... and no, he can't! He can't!
BEAST REVERSES INTO A SUPLEX OF HIS OWN! Krenshov hits the canvas hard, stunned, sitting up in shock as The Beast tries to get adrenaline back into his body, slapping the side of his head and figuratively bearing his fangs. Beast fires on Krenshov with big forearm shots, rocking the man! He has Krenshov STAGGERED! Against the ropes! A big forearm shot, Krenshov stays up, against the ropes. Beast gets some speed, rebound, CLOTHESLINE! Krenshov tips precariously off his feet on the ropes, but stays in the ring... BEAST WITH A REBOUND!
CLOTHESLINE!
KRENSHOV SPILLS TO THE FLOOR OUTSIDE!
BILL HEWSON: The Beast just knocked Krenshov all the way to the outside, all 350 pounds crashing to the floor! And now---
JACK JONES: DUCK!!!
BILL HEWSON: THE BEAST! OUTTA CONTROL! OVER THE TOP ROOOOOPE!
"HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT!
HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!
HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!"
THE CROWD IS STANDING NOW! Both men are laid out on the floor, masses of men spilled on concrete... and The Beast
Is on
his FEET.
The Beast gets up and roars, picking up Krenshov and hammering away on him. Krenshov is stunned by the onslaught and The Beast has the upperhand. He shoves Krenshov into the ring and gets in, slipping through the ropes and locking on a COBRA CLUTCH! He has his arms around Krenshov's thick neck and arm... Kenny is struggling as The Beast attempts to put him out, to take the air away from his man's lungs...
At least for a minute.
THEN COMES THE BOMB.
Not a lotta height on the big man, but what impact! Krenshov is in the middle of the ring, and The Beast knows he has to take the opportunity! He quickly climbs to the top rope, sweat pouring off his skin. He takes one quick glance over his shoulder, and then... Two-hundred and seventy pounds of WORLD CHAMPION fly off the rope in the biggest moonsault since The Man They Call Vader, connecting across the torso of KRENSHOV. THE CROWD IS GOING CRAZY!
THE COVER!
ONE!
TW---
SHOVE.
And Krenshov shoves Beast off of him with AUTHORITY.
JACK JONES: Oh, HELL.
BILL HEWSON: This crowd is speechless! Not even a two count!
The Beast looks surprised, but he has a back-up plan. Off the ropes, LARIAT --- Krenshov ducks, Beast rebounds, and tries a cross body block! Out of character... and a MISTAKE. Krenshov CATCHES THE BEAST IN MID-AIR. He turns to all four sides of the ring, holding The Beast tightly, and then sends the champion flying with a HUGE FALLAWAY SLAM! Krenshov covers, ONE, TWO, THRKICKOUT! Still The Beast refuses to die! Krenshov pulls his man up, short-arm clothesline time --- COUNTERED!
OH MY GOD! THE BEAST HAULS KRENSHOV ONTO HIS SHOULDERS!
HE CAN'T!
JACK JONES: NO WAY!
BILL HEWSON: NOT EVEN THE BEAST! KRENSHOV ON HIS SHOULDERS, HE CAN'T --- HE CAN'T---
JACK JONES: HOLEEEE HELLLLLL!
BILL HEWSON: CHART ATTACK! CHART ATTACK ! CHAAAAAAAAAAAAAART ATTAAAAAAAAAAAACK!
BEAST COVERS, THE CROWD SHOUTS ALONG AT THE TOP OF THEIR LUNGS!
"ONE!"
"TWO!"
"THREEEEEEEEUWAAAAAAAA?"
Krenshov kicks out.
KRENSHOV KICKS OUT.
KRENSHOV KICKS OUT?!
BILL HEWSON: I don't believe it! Krenshov just kicked out of the damnedest Chart Attack we've ever seen! What will it take to stop this man?!
JACK JONES: A bulldozer? A tank? THE 81ST AIRBORNE! In other words, THE BEAST CAN'T STOP KRENSHOV!
BILL HEWSON: He stopped Caliban! But you might be right, Jack Attack --- I don't know what it's going to take to keep Krenshov down!
The champion has hit Krenshov with his best moves, and still the Russian Assassin gets up. And now Krenshov is doing it again, dazed, but still with his. The Beast has no choice but to try to knock the man down again, hits a lariat that only staggers Krenshov. Beast charges again
SPINEBUSTER MOTHER(BLEEP)ER!
Beast is down, but Krenshov doesn't pin. He pulls the man up! What's this? Oh my God, he's putting Bruce on the top rope! What in the hell! He's not going to superplex him! Or worse, TOTAL ECLIPSE from up top! Krenshov tries to lift the man, but Beast is fighting. Hammers down WAIT A MINUTE THE CLAW! THE MANDIBLE CLAW! The Beast jamming his fingers straight down Krenshov's gullet with the paralyzing nervehold, pressing down beneath the tongue! Krenshov's face tells the story this time, as both men seem caught on the top rope in a tableau. The Beast trying to force Krenshov down... the big man climbs down, trying to back off, but The Beast drops down with The Claw still locked on. Krenshov begins to slump down to one knee as The Beast tries to put it in... could he possibly? Could this be the way?!
Krenshov is swaying, one knee down, legs looking rubbery, swaying ---
BUT NO!
KRENSHOV WITH A BOOT TO THE GUT! HOOKS THE FACE! TOTAL ECLIPSE --- BRUCE LIFTS HIM! AGAIN! AGAIN!
CHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAART ATTAAAAAAAAAAACK!
THE LEG!
THE ONE!
THE TWO!
THE THREEEEEEE!
FRANK WARBURTON: Here is your winner... and STILL NAPW WORLD CHAMPION... THE BEEEEEEEEAAAAAAASSSSST!
BILL HEWSON: The Beast did it! It took two Chart Attacks, but he did it---*
Hewson cuts off abruptly as The Beast, standing, tired, raising an arm high
DONOVAN ASTROS SLIDES INTO THE RING BEHIND HIM.
AND TAKES OUT THE KNEE.
BILL HEWSON: WHAT? No! No! Come off it! Donovan Astros just clipped the knee of the World Champion! Astros is trying to take The Beast out before their title match! Somebody get down here --- oh no! NOT HIM!
JACK JONES: The Murder City Devils are BACK, Bill Hewson! And that's bad news for EVERYBODY who's against them!
Astros is attacking the knee like a hyena as Jake Phoenix steps over the top rope. Krenshov is pulling himself to his feet as the Murder City Devils stomp and kick The Beast's knee. Astros walks over to Krenshov, giving the big man a huge grin. "Let's do this thing!"
BILL HEWSON: OH my God.
JACK JONES: Hahaha yes!
BILL HEWSON: Don't tell me... that Krenshov and Donovan Astros are in league!
JACK JONES: He's the Russian Assassin, Hewson! He'll take any job if the price is right! We are seeing the BRILLIANCE of Donovan Astros right now!
Phoenix pulls The Beast up and holds him, grinning like the son of a bitch he is. Astros is looking gleeful, soaking in the horrified, hateful cheers of the crowd. A crowd booing at the top of their lungs. Astros sidesteps a flying cup and then points at Krenshov. He points at The Beast. And gives him the THUMBS DOWN.
Krenshov grins. He cracks his knuckles, Phoenix holding The Beast in place, helpless as Krenshov readies his assault...
CHARGE ---
WHAM!
DONOVAN ASTROS TURNED INSIDE OUT BY A HUGE LARIAT!
Phoenix's eyes bug out of his head. "What the (BLEEP) man?" He drops The Beast and charges Krenshov, only to run FACE-FIRST INTO THE SIZE 18! Krenshov picks up Jake Phoenix and grabs him by the scruff of the neck, pointing over the top rope and tossing the big man over! Then he grabs Donovan Astros, sends him to the ropes --- Phoenix grabs Astros by the feet and pulls him out of the ring. Astros looks up at KRENSHOV, screaming "WHAT ARE YOU DOING? YOU'll PAY FOR THIS! NOBODY CROSSES DONOVAN ASTROS!" Krenshov barks back: "NOBODY TREATS ME LIKE THEIR DAMN LAPDOG!" Whatever agreement Krenshov and Astros had, IF they had one, it's out the window now. Phoenix, though.
Phoenix looks EXCEPTIONALLY furious. Nobody's ever done that to him.
Nobody.
Officials swarm out and get between The Devils and the ring. Meanwhile, The Beast has pulled himself to his feet, the World Title belt draping from his hand. He's limping on the bad wheel, and now it's eye to eye with Krenshov.
The two men stare each other down.
And then, grudgingly, but with respect, Krenshov extends a massive hand. The Beast isn't sure to trust it --- hell, can Krenshov trust The Beast?
But The Beast slams his hand into Krenshov's and they shake. Krenshov exits the ring, looking down the aisle with a surly curve to his lip, eyes meeting Jake Phoenix. In the ring, The Beast holds his belt high, celebrating, wincing as he puts weight on the leg Astros attacked. Astros smirks in the aisle. The Beast leans over the top rope, staring death down the aisle at his nemesis...
BILL HEWSON: This has been NAPW "STAND YOUR GROUND", and we are out of time! For Jack "Attack" Jones, this is Bill Hewson saying good night!
STAREDOWNS AHOY!