MONDAY. NIGHT. FIGHTS01/09/2006Edmonton, Alberta, Canada. A wasteland of snow and cold, where only the STRONG SURVIVE...wrong copy. "LET'S GET THIS OVER WITH!" roars BOY CHARLIE's anthem 'Over With', which can only mean one thing: It's the NAIT Gymnasium, it's Monday Night, and if you live in Alberta or logged onto NAPW.ca...YOU ARE WATCHING NAPW MONDAY NIGHT FIGHTS! The crowd is strong tonight, rowdy and ready for action as Bill Hewson & Jack Attack Jones open the show! BILL HEWSON: This is New Alberta Pro Wrestling! Good evening everybody watching us online or on CITY-TV Edmonton! I'm Bill Hewson alongside Jack Attack Jones, and tonight in our main event, the phenomenal Predator will take on CHRIS CASINO for the NAPW Championship! JACK JONES: Not much of a main event, if you ask me. I know Casino & TERRY BRANDON will have a plan, but you do have to be concerned - Predator may get only this one shot in his entire career, and you know he'll try to make it count. BILL HEWSON: The tag team titles on the line tonight as well, D-X defending against the unique tandem of Rex Caliber & Static... JACK JONES: Didn't you get the memo? They're called THE CRIMES now. Before Bill can retort, Lynyrd Skynyrd & Kid Rock light it up...and J.C. COOK sprints out of the entrance way, ready for action! BILL HEWSON: Nice ovation for J.C. Cook here tonight, who has been out of action for almost TWO months, since the now-departed MISERY injured him at Black Thursday! JACK JONES: He'll have something to prove today, Hewson. Cook hits the ring, the crowd giving him a reasonable ovation, but certainly wondering what Cook will bring to the ring on this occasion. BAM IT'S GANGSTARR, and that means it's AXLE JAXX. Jaxx receives a mix of cheers and boos as he comes to the ring, stoic and cold. He takes the ring, no playing to the fans, and fixes his gaze on the cocky Cook. FRANK WARBURTON: The following contest is scheduled for ONE FALL! Introducing first, from Kenosha Wisconsion... weighing in at two-hundred and THIRTY-NINE pounds...J! C! COOK! And his opponent, hailing from Vancouver BC! At two-hundred and twenty-five pounds... AXELLLLLLLL JAXX! JACK JONES: Speaking of somebody with something to prove, Axle Jaxx needs a win tonight after Maniac stole one from him last week! BILL HEWSON: Axle Jaxx is still young, he's only been in this industry a short time. These two certainly evenly matched... Cook and Jaxx shake hands as the bell rings. The circle each other and go for a lockup. Jaxx twists CookÕs arm into a hammerlock, which Cook reverses into a hammerlock of his own. Jaxx reaches for the ropes. Cook release quickly. The two men shake hands again, then lock back up. Cook goes for a quick go-behind, then scores with a belly to back suplex. Cook goes for a quick pin, gets a one count. Jaxx takes a quick breather outside, then climbs back into the ring. They lock up again. This time Jaxx gets the go behind, and attempts a back suplex of his own, but Cook manages to flip over, landing on his feet, then drop kicks Jaxx in the back, knocking him over the top rope to the floor. BILL HEWSON: And these NAPW fans applauding that excellent series of moves, appreciating their talent! JACK JONES: I don't know if Axle Jaxx appreciates it nearly as much, that's a sour look on his mug there. BILL HEWSON: Axle Jaxx perhaps a little frustrated here, unable to take over on Cook. Jaxx gets back in the ring. They lock up once more. Cook slaps on a headlock. Jaxx tries to power out, but Cook holds on. Jaxx tries to push out again, but again Cook holds on. Jaxx starts to shoot forearms into CookÕs midsection, then pushes Cook into the ropes. Cook bounces back, Jaxx attempts a clothesline. Cook ducks the clothesline, hits the opposite ropes, but is caught with a vicious kick to the gut. Jaxx then grabs Cook by the hair and tosses him into the corner turnbuckles. The fans boo as Jaxx starts to ram CookÕs head into the top turnbuckle. He delivers a snap suplex to Cook, then quickly snaps on his Axel Lock. Jaxx pulls back on CookÕs neck, bending his spine in an unnatural way. Cook tries to power out, as the fans cheer him on. Cook gets one arm free, and tries to push up, but Jaxx has none of that, as he drops an elbow across CookÕs lower back. Looking to keep the advantage, Jaxx scales the ropes, looking to hit his Jaxxsault! BILL HEWSON: ...PERFECTLY EXECUTED MOONSAULT! JACK JONES: ...if only Cook hadn't lifted his knees! Jaxx is doubled over in pain, and Cook takes the advantage! He bounds off the ropes--- YES! PRESSURE COOKER CONNECTS! Cook hooks the leg for the cover...one! TWO! THREE! FRANK WARBURTON: Your winner by pinfall at eight minutes and six seconds... J! C! COOOOK! BILL HEWSON: A successful return for J.C. Cook, and maybe a late christmas gift! The guy had quite possibly the worst December of anybody in the NAPW. JACK JONES: Oh, whatever, Monica was smart to walk out on the bum. Two months to recover, honestly. Back in my day, we'd... BILL HEWSON: Back in your day dinosaurs ruled the earth. We're going to take a commercial break! Don't go away! As J.C. Cook celebrates, Axle Jaxx slowly walks to the back, staring at his hands in disgust... he doesn't look what you would call 'happy.'
BILL HEWSON: Now, the Tag Team Titles match between the Crimes and D-X isn't supposed to happen now, but apparently the Crimes have some issues that they'd like to discuss with their manager, "The Mayor" Bill Fleming. JACK JONES: And we're going to get to see all this dirty laundry aired out in public! Has NAPW been hiring TV writers? Because this is sure to get the ratings... Static and Rex both grab mics, and milk the scorn for all its worth. They wait awkwardly for a second, until Dangerdoom's "Bada Bing" fills the arena, and "the Mayor" walks out. He is alone with a nervous look on his face, to another chorus of boos. He crawls underneath the ropes, and grabs a third mic as its handed to him. His eyes keep shifting from Static to Rex. Static's got a too-calm half-grin on his face, while Rex has a standard Rex Caliber game face on, looking almost oblivious. STATIC: The Mayor... Bill Fleming. A few months ago, you came to me with a proposal. Ravager, he wouldn't leave you alone. The hospital bills were mounting to the point where you couldn't buy groceries, and you needed help. In exchange for keeping Ravager off of your back out of the ring, you'd use your carnal knowledge of the wrestling business to take me to the top. Am I right? BILL FLEMING: Ah... yep. Me and you, Static. BILL HEWSON: Static's got the Mayor shaking... STATIC: Well, then, Mayor. With that carnal knowledge, I'd suggest... (advancing closer to the Mayor) that you know that the wrestling business is a cutthroat industry. There are no guarantees, anywhere. The only person... BILL... who can really have your back all the way... is you. I wish you could've known that... BILL... because it's really... too late. BILL HEWSON: What's he talking about?... now Rex is looking nervous too... STATIC: (right in Bill's face, speaking with intensity) If this team's going to move forward, it's going to need to cut corners. I'm sorry, Bill. You're expendable. BILL HEWSON: STATIC JUST KNOCKED OUT THE MAYOR WITH HIS MICROPHONE! AND NOW REX HAS JOINED IN THE BEATDOWN! Indeed, Static has KO'ed the Mayor, to another round of boos, with some scattered cheers for Mayor-haters. Rex & Static are both stomping away at the Mayor, who's not even showing signs of resistance. They both pick Fleming up, still conscious. As Rex picks the poor guy up for a powerbomb, Static slides out of the ring and takes the timekeeper's chair, with authority. Rex BOMBS Fleming down as soon as Static slides back in the ring. The Mayor clutches his neck upon landing, and Static - with a sick, calm half-grin on his face - STABS Fleming with that steel chair. Static picks him up, puts him in a somewhat reluctant Rex's arms, climbs to the second rope and STABS him again with it. BILL HEWSON: Ladies and gentlemen... the Mayor is out. And this is a full-fledged assault on a defenseless man, a reporter by trade... I don't think that the Mayor knew what he was getting into with Static... As the few scattered cheers turn into jeers, and the chorus of boos becomes a lusty hate cry, Static continues his assault with mounted right fists to the Mayor's dome, cracking his head open. Rex has backed into a corner now, watching as Static puts some kind of pressure hold on the Mayor in an effort to make him bleed more. Static cries out in joy at the sight of the Mayor's blood, and gets up to kick him for good measure. Caliber takes a turn now, locking the RINGS OF REX on a brutalized Fleming! Static leans over the top rope, screaming at the fans in the first rows "SHUT UP! "All of you can suck my voodoo! SHUT UP!" Than, Static gets an idea. He picks the abandoned chair up and sets it up to sit on. He's got an idea, and he wants Caliber to powerbomb Fleming through the chair?! BILL HEWSON: That's enough! Bill Fleming is a weasel, but nobody deserves this! I thought Rex Caliber had some class but THIS...! Static yells at Rex, loudly enough the crowd can hear it, Static holding Fleming by a handful of hair. STATIC: Do it, Rex... REX CALIBER: C'mon, Static, he's out and bleeding... he's had enough. C'mon, doc... STATIC: REX, YOU SONOFABITCH, POWERBOMB THIS BASTARD THROUGH THAT CHAIR! With that, Static SHOVES the Mayor's head into Rex's crotch. Rex reluctantly puts him in the position, lifts him up... and with Static's help, brings him DOWN with a half-hearted powerbomb that still manages to crush that steel chair for all its worth! As "Bled for Days" by Static X kicks up again, the Mayor's looking like he just might bleed for days. EMTs are on their way to the ring, and Static is jumping for joy, spitting and shouting at the fans who were mocking him. Before they leave the ring, Static holds up a hesitant Rex Caliber's right arm with his, a sign of what's to come? They leave to prepare for their match to a HUGE, venomous crowd response. BILL HEWSON: Well, fans... we just saw a shocking display of brutality, as the Crimes... this new, and very promising tag team, who could win the Tag Team Titles later tonight, they've just been on a roll lately... the Crimes, disposing of their manager, Bill Fleming, in a most SADISTIC way... JACK JONES: And Bill, it should be said how weird that would've been, say, a month ago. Static and the Mayor, they were the absurd duo of NAPW. They had that stupid song, "Get on my Level," that... that Jungle Book thing they were doing... ? Static just seemed to fall apart after he lost that Provincial Title, and in a passion to gain the Tag straps, let his loyalty go out the window. BILL HEWSON: And let's not forget about the Nexus One, Rex Caliber. JACK JONES: Oh, of course. Well, what we know about Rex is that he loves three things first and foremost: money, gold, and the ladies. I guess in the desire to get those Tag straps, he'd do anything! But even he seemed uncomfortable doling out that kind of punishment to the "li'l guy." We'll get this cleaned up and when we come back, we'll have you know --- an actual MATCH. Commercial break with EMTs loading Bill Fleming onto a stretcher...
JACK JONES: It was sadistic, I'll agree with you on that. Fleming deserved to be fired after costing his men too many matches, but... BILL HEWSON: Nonetheless, we do move on, with two teams making their debut! Headstones! Raucous applause! It's The DELIVERY MEN! They come to ringside in their coveralls, ready for action! Shortly, Headstones give way to the drastically different sounds of the Isis track "Celestial." The reaction? Mixed, at best, certainly NAPW fans aren't exactly comfortable with either KRYENIK or DEATHROW, who make their way out together. Deathrow grins strangely at the fans in the front row, who recoil in disgust. Kryenik hits the ring and points to the Delivery Men. #2 mutters in disgust "Deathrow" and then spits. Finally, both teams are in their corners. FRANK WARBURTON: The following contest is scheduled for ONE FALL! Introducing first, the team of #1...#2...THEEEE DELIVERY MEN! And their opponents! First, he is KYRENIK! His parter? TOMMY DEATHROW! They are...THE DOOOOOMRIDERS! Tommy Deathrow tells his partner that he wants to start the match against Delivery Man #2. Senior referee Dick Kiebiech calls for the bell. And Deathrow gets in #2's face! Deathrow is telling #2 something, but it's too quiet for us to hear. #2's face just went to stone! And #2 lays into Deathrow with a punch! Deathrow fires back! It's punches coming fast and furious from both men! But Deathrow catches #2 with a knee to the gut, and #2 hits to floor gasping for air! #1's not looking happy in his corner of the ring, and is tempted to come into the ring to help his partner, but Kiebiech warns him back. Deathrow picks up #2 and throws him into the turnbuckle. Kryenik claps his hands together, faking the tag, and jumps into the ring to pummel #2. The Doomriders with stereo kicks to #2's gut in the corner! Deathrow leaves the ring, and Kryenik launches #2 into the ropes, and NEARLY TAKES #2's HEAD OFF WITH A SUPERKICK! JACK JONES: He calls that The Kiss of Babylon, Bill! BILL HEWSON: I don't care what it's called, someone get that lunatic back into his corner where he belongs! Kryenik grabs the arm of #2, and pulls back on it with all he's got! #2 is crying out in pain! And all Delivery Man #1 can do is watch while the Doomriders pick apart his partner! Kryenik lets go of the smaller man, and tags his partner in. Deathrow laughs as he picks up #2, and hoists his on his shoulders. Could it be a devastating powerbomb! Deathrow's about to send #2 to the mat, but #2 reverses it into a hurricanrana! Deathrow's winded on the mat! #2 runs to the ropes, and comes back with a somersault into a leg drop on the throat of Deathrow! #1 is shouting for the tag, and #2 runs to his corner to bring his partner in! Deathrow's back up but a bicycle kick from #1 puts him back down on the mat! #1 grabs the head of Deathrow, and whips him onto the Doomrider's corner. #1 shouts at Billy Kryenik to tag his partner and come into the ring like a man! Kryenik's happy to oblige. The two big men lock up! Kryenik gets the upper hand and wrenches #1's arm behind his back. He amps up the pain by ratcheting the arm of #1. Kryenik pulls #1 over to the Doomrider's corner, and tags in Deathrow. Deathrow goes to the top rope, and a double axe handle onto the arm of #1! #1 is in pain here! Deathrow arm drags Delivery Man #1 to the canvas, and applies a camel clutch! He's torquing the back of #1! #1's in pain, but what's this? Even though Deathrow had a few pounds on #1, #1 is climbing to his feet with Deathrow still on his back? #1's falls back on to the mat, landing on Deathrow! That's gotta hurt! #1 pulls Deathrow up, hits the ropes - but Kryenik grabs the PERFECTLY BRYLCREEMED HAIR of #1, snapping him down! Deathrow manages to get up, gasping, and HE grabs the HAIR...Inverted DDT! #1's writhing on the mat! BILL HEWSON: Delivery Man #1's screaming something! Can you make out what it is, Jack? JACK JONES: Are you kidding me? Is #1 actually screaming about his hair? BILL HEWSON: Delivery Man #1 is quite proud of his hair, and now the Doomriders have mussed it up! "My hair! What have you done to my hair?" #1 grabs a hold of Deathrow's windpants, and launches him out of the ring! #2 runs to the other turnbuckle, and climbs onto the shoulder of #1? What? No! NOT A ROCKET LAUNCHER TO THE FLOOR! Flying crossbody onto Deathrow by #2! #1 grabs the head of Kryenik in the corner and bounces his head off the turnbuckle! Deathrow and #2 are punching the hell out of each other! #1 climbs out of the ring to get his hands on Kryenik! #1 clotheslines Kryenik over the barricade, and they brawl in the middle of the crowd here at NAIT Gym! Deathrow piledrives #2 onto the cold, unforgiving floor! Ref Dick Kiebiech is giving both teams a warning to get back into the ring with a ten count! He's already at four! Deathrow goes to help Kryenik, who's now in the bleachers with Delivery Man #1! #1 takes both men by the head, and knocks them together! Kiebiech keeps counting! Six! Seven! #1 runs back to ringside to tend to his unconscious partner! Eight! Nine! Deathrow runs at #1 and starts to punch him again! Ten! The referee calls for the bell to signify a double countout! But the Doomriders and Delivery Man #1 don't care! Delivery Man #1 whips Deathrow into the barricade, picks up his partner, and exits through the curtain, presumably to get some medical attention for #2! Kryenik is on the Delivery Men's heels! FRANK WARBURTON: Ladies and gentlemen...the referee has ruled this match a DOUBLE-COUNT OUT OF THE RING! BILL HEWSON: What chaos! What disorder! The referee's counted both teams out, and I have a feeling this isn't over, Jack Attack! JACK JONES: Yeah, The Doomriders just crossed a line they never should have! BILL HEWSON: That was a BRUTAL piledriver on the floor alright. JACK JONES: ...piledriver? They messed up #1's hair, Bill! That's...that's a feud! But that was a pretty evil piledriver. This is going downhill fast, actually, I'm calling a commercial!
JACK JONES: Hope you enjoyed the break, Hewson--I got some ladies' phone number. BILL HEWSON: Hey, "555" and everything. MINSTREL makes his first NAPW appearance of 2006, and it's already shaping up to be his year. JACK JONES: Tell me about it--new Provincical Champion, COMPLETELY UNDEFEATED by pinfall or submission, and if the rumours can be believed, he might start flying on Chris Casino's personal jet, if you know what I mean. The crowd boos Minstrel as he hits the ring. Once inside, he opens the violin case, pulls out a violin and bow, naturally, and climbs the corner turnbuckle. What's he THINKING? "A Man Alone" fades out... the crowd starts chanting "RAV! A! GER! RAV! A! GER!"... and Minstrel is watching the entrance like a perched bird of prey! "Path"! Apocaliptica! Ravager's theme hits, and the crowd goes WILD. Ravager strides through the curtains to the fan's delight, and locks his eyes on Minstrel. And Minstrel starts--PLAYING? More like AIR-VIOLINING! He's pretending to play the violin lead in Ravager's theme, and Ravager does NOT look thrilled. BILL HEWSON: He already HAD Ravager's attention, Jack attack. I'd think twice about making him angry--in their LAST go 'round, Ravager just about BRUTALIZED Minstrel. JACK JONES: Brutalized, schmutalized. Who's wearing the Provincial Title? MINSTREL. Who won that match? MINSTREL. And he's had three weeks to rest and recuperate, while Ravager's hand is STILL broken. BILL HEWSON: And Ravager's requested that this rematch be NON-TITLE... he'd rather beat Minstrel than earn any other prize! What does THAT tell you, partner? Ravager climbs into the ring, NEVER losing sight of Minstrel, who's clearly engrossed in his own "playing". The music fades down, and Minstrel comes down to the canvas again. Senior Referee Dick Kiebiech POUNCES on the violin, making sure it, the bow and case are ALL handed to security outside the ring. And now, here's Frank: FRANK WARBURTON: The following is a NON-TITLE, PURE WRESTLING contest and is scheduled for ONE FALL. In THIS match, each competitor may only use the ropes THREE times to break up a pinfall or submission, after which the referee will NOT count rope breaks for that competitor! In addition, striking with a closed fist is an AUTOMATIC loss of a rope break, and if there are no rope breaks left, it will result in a DISQUALIFICATION. Introducing to my left, from Brooklyn, NEW YORK... weighing in a TWO hundred, TEN pounds--RRRAAAAAVAGERRRRR! And to my right, from PARTS! UNKNOWN! Weighing in at TWO hundred, TWENTY-one pounds--here is YOUR Provincial Champion, MMMIIIIINSTRRRELLLLL! That lengthy intro gave Kiebiech the time he needed to check both men for concealed weapons... SURPRISINGLY, both men are clean! He signals the timekeeper, the bell is struck, and WE'RE OFF! MINSTREL! Off at the bell and has caught Ravager in a Standing Side Headlock! His momentum staggers his opponent close to the ropes, where he torques the neck some more--is Ravager going to use his first rope break HERE? No--Waist Lock--BACKDROP DRIVER! Ravager BUSTS his way out of the headlock! Both men pick themselves up, and Ravager uses his good hand to stun Minstrel with a chop--WOO!--perfectly legal, as long as it's not a closed fist. Ravager grabs Minstrel with the good hand, slips the casted arm around him--ARM BAR TAKEDOWN slams the Jokeman's shoulder to the boards! Ravager wasting VERY little time-- FUJIWARA ARM-BAR! Wrenching BACK on Minstrel's shoulder--Minstrel's ANIMATED with pain, is he going to--would he--YES! He use his free arm to grab the ropes! But Ravager won't break the DAMN hold! Kiebiech has to caution him with a five-count . . . Ravager gets FOUR seconds of extra pain to inflict on Minstrel before he stands up with a slightly-satisfied look on his face. FRANK WARBURTON: Minstrel has used Rope Break NUMBER ONNNE! JACK JONES: It's nice to see that aggression that made Ravager huge in the NAPW... and it's solid psychology, too. Ravager doesn't have full use of one hand, so he tips the scales to take out his opponent's entire ARM. BILL HEWSON: We can't tell WHAT kind of damage has been done to Minstrel, and frankly, it's too early in the match for THAT. But we DO have our first rope break, and that HAD to be Ravager's main intent. Minstrel is up again, and rotates his shoulder, giggling... both men are circling each other, feinting, testing each other, then Minstrel runs back and EXPLODES off the ropes, coming at Ravager--side-stepped. Minstrel hits the opposite ropes, comes off and... hits the ropes. Then hits the ropes. Then hits the ropes. Minstrel's completely engrossed with running the ropes at this point, laughing like a baboon. Ravager audibly sighs, then lazily sticks his arm out--CLOTHESLINE! Minstrel hits the mat spinning, going "WHEEE!!!" Ravager goes after him like a shark smelling BLOOD, and uses the good arm to drop an elbow pin-point on Minstrel's shoulder. Minstrel immediately nurses his shoulder and yells "SPAGHETTI-OS!", rolling to the ropes and using them to pull himself up. Ravager looks like he wants to charge-- BILL HEWSON: But it wouldn't be a rope break if the opponent ALREADY had the rope! --and instead stalks Minstrel, waiting for him to let go--THERE! RAVAGER--NO! SPINNING! HEEL! KICK! Minstrel just BLASTED Ravager's broken hand! He just moved like a BLUR! And Ravager's in PAIN, by God! Minstrel's off his feet--Hurricanrana! Sending the stunned Ravager to the mat! The crowd BOOS Minstrel. MINSTREL boos Minstrel, and once again gives himself the thumbs down. Minstrel turns his attention to Ravager, BOOTS him in the face, and then brings his foot down on Ravager's cast hand! Still legal in this "pure" wrestling match! Minstrel drags his thumb across his throat in his best Chris Benoit impression, then--CRUCIFIX ARM-BAR! Minstrel's not a mat wrestler, but this is DEFINITELY painful to Ravager! Ravager only hesitates for a second--ROPE BREAK! FRANK WARBURTON: Ravager has used Rope Break NUMBER ONNNE! Minstrel, still holding the move, yells at himself? "Let GO of the hold, Minstrel! ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR!" He releases the hold that very second, deciding to admonish himself while a perplexed Kiebiech can only watch. Minstrel takes Ravager by the hand--yes, the BROKEN one--and drags him to the centre of the ring. ANOTHER kick to the hand rocks Ravager with pain, and the Jokeman climbs out to the apron--what's he thinking now--SLINGSHOT MOONSAULT! RIGHT onto RAVAGER! WHAT A MOVE! He hooks the leg--ONE, TWO, KICK-OUT! Ravager KICKS OUT! And Minstrel actually might be FRUSTRATED! He mounts Ravager and starts firing away--WAIT A MINUTE! FRANK WARBURTON: Due to a closed fist, Minstrel has LOST his SECOND Rope Break! Minstrel freezes mid-punch--he's regained his temper, but giggles nervously after the reality sinks in! And Ravager's... LAUGHING? BILL HEWSON: That's even MORE creepy! And Ravager just EXPLODES, shoving Minstrel OFF of him! Ravager's on his feet, adrenaline pumping, and Waist Locks his opponent, digging his head underneath his shoulder--NORTHERN LIGHTS SUPLEX! Minstrel hits the mat like a sack of rubber ducks! But wait--Ravager still has the tie-up, is he, YES! He gets Minstrel back on his feet, NORTHERN LIGHTS SUPLEX NUMBER TWO! The crowd's chanting "One! More! Time! One! More! Time!"... and Ravager's gonna deliver! He rolls it into NORTHERN LIGHTS SUPLEX NUMBER THREE! The crowd's chanting Ravager's name again, but he doesn't have time to listen--pin cover! ONE! TWO! Minstrel shoots his hand up, lifting his shoulder off the mat! WAIT A MINUTE! RAVAGER'S GOT THE ARM! And he's twisting around to get behind Minstrel--ASHIGATAME ARMBAR! He's got it locked, wrenching Minstrel's shoulder from a seated position! Ravager's screaming at Minstrel to TAP! Minstrel's singing "Hungry Hungry Hippos"--I don't know what that MEANS! Minstrel is inching towards the ropes, closer and closer--Ravager's pulling back--MINSTREL'S GOT THE ROPES! MINSTREL'S GOT THE ROPES! FRANK WARBURTON: Minstrel has used his THIRD AND FINAL Rope Break! Ravager INSTANTLY releases the hold--looks like he's got bigger and better things planned. Pulling Minstrel to his feet, he ties him up with his bad arm and hooks his leg with the good one--he's setting up for the MUSCLE BUST--OH!!! Minstrel just raked Ravager's eyes! Ravager's stumbling around, and Minstrel's free--HE'S GOING TO THE TOP ROPE! Ravager's still shielding his eyes MINSTREL! FLYING CLOTHESL--POW!!! Ravager just DROPPED him mid-air with a stiff shot to the kisser! FRANK WARBURTON: Due to a closed fist, Ravager has LOST his SECOND Rope Break! Ravager looks at Kiebiech, and shrugs with a "what do you want from me?" look. He drops to his knees, flips Minstrel over, and hooks the leg, ONE! TWO! TWOOO!!! Minstrel kicks out, this time deciding AGAINST throwing the arm up. He SCRAMBLES out from under Ravager and heads for the ropes, once more going to pull himself up--AND RAVAGER'S ON HIM! He's got Minstrel in a hammerlock, sitting RIGHT on TOP of him! JACK JONES: Normally, a Hammerlock's NOTHING. They don't win matches, you can break it yourself or use the ropes. But Minstrel's ALREADY got the ropes, and they CAN'T save him! BILL HEWSON: AND Ravager's weakened the shoulder AND he's got a huge leverage advantage! The crowd is chanting "TAP! TAP! TAP!", Minstrel is laughing louder and LOUDER and LOUDER, his hand lets go of the rope, and it's just TREMBLING... Minstrel just grabbed the rope again, why would--he's just pushed back with his entire body! It knocks both men back, but Ravager's still got the hold locked! Hang on, Kiebiech's checking Ravager's shoulders--they're down, so he has to count--WAIT A MINUTE! MINSTREL'S GOT HIS DAMN LEGS ON THE ROPES! IT'S AN ILLEGAL PIN! ONE! TWO! THREE! RAVAGER GOT SCREWED! FRANK WARBURTON: Here is your winner by pinfall...at seventeen minutes and twenty-one seconds... MMMIIIIINSTRELLL! BILL HEWSON: Ravager's NOT releasing the hold! He's LIVID! And Minstrel's laughing over the crowd's deafening boos... not just because he WON, but because of the torturous PAIN! JACK JONES: Dick Kiebiech knows better than to ASK, Hewson, he's getting right IN there to pull him off! Except it's not GOING so well! And sure enough, MORE officials come spilling out of the back to help out their senior member. With FIVE officials, Minstrel is FINALLY extricated from Ravager's clutches. Ravager wrenches his way out of the refs' grasp, and looks down at his gibbering opponent. He's got a smile on his face--WHAT'S HE GONNA DO NOW? He--rolls out of the ring? He makes a bee-line for the timekeeper's table--Henry Andrews tries to get in his way, but is slapped down--HE'S GOT THE PROVINCIAL TITLE! Belt in hand, Ravager stalks back into the ring, and he's standing over the fallen body of Minstrel! The refs don't DARE make a move! BILL HEWSON: Don't DO it, Ravager! JACK JONES: This is INCREDIBLE! This is TRULY INCREDIBLE! Ravager looks at the Provincial Title, staring into the face plate, smiling, and... PLANTS A KISS ON IT? He looks at the belt one last time... then drapes it over the fallen body of Minstrel. Then without further to do, he makes his way out of the ring and onto the ramp. The crowd is on their feet, chanting "THANK you! THANK you! RAVAGER! RAVAGER!" Ravager holds his broken hand in the air, looks back at the ring one final time, then leaves. BILL HEWSON: Is it okay to breathe again? JACK JONES: Even in defeat, Ravager knows how to leave a lasting impression. And these NAPW fans are LOVING it! BILL HEWSON: Minstrel WON that match, but he sure paid a heavy price... and as Provincial Champion, Minstrel's story is JUST getting started. We have to go to commercial, folks, but we'll be RIGHT BACK! But first...SECRET CAMERA IN THE DRESSING ROOM. Or some such thing. Not just any dressing room. The Rat Pack dressing room. Terry Brandon, with briefcase in hand and a dapper suit. Evan Cartwright, seemingly in deep thought on one bench. Chris Casino? The NAPW Champion is cocky, gloating even as he merely ties his boots. But two men are ready to go to the ring. THE BEAST: Well, it's time to get this started. CASINO: So what do you guys think? The usual? STYLIN' KYLE: (pause) Chris, you and Evan both have some pretty...brutal matches going on. Tell you what. We'll come back after we take care of The Crimes. THE BEAST: If we, as champions, can't get the job done...why the hell are we champions in the first place, right? CARTWRIGHT: Right. We are, after all...the Elite. TERRY BRANDON: Boys, boys, are you saying you don't need help?! STYLIN' KYLE: Terry, where would we be without the help of the top manager in New Alberta Pro? The fact that we've got your support is all we'll need. A beat. STYLIN' KYLE: Also, I'm not gay. TERRY BRANDON: Than it sounds like a plan! Tonight, The Rat Pack will live the high life, and we're going to start with you boys retaining your titles! Let's get to that ring! Cartwright slaps The Beast on the shoulder, Casino nods with a grin, Terry Brandon & D-X exit stage left.
BILL HEWSON: I suppose Static thinks he's a real hero, sending an untrained and defenseless man to the hospital. And what about Rex Caliber? The fans were getting behind him and he spit on all of it, told these fans to shove it! JACK JONES: I won't defend what they've did, but the fact is Bill Hewson: The Crimes, they have been on one of the biggest rolls of anybody in NAPW. Tonight is their chance to win the NAPW Tag Team Championship. They're up against the best team in the NAPW --- they've got to pull out all the stops! BILL HEWSON: He's a cold man...and now what's this? Rex Caliber's pulled a vial of---that's blood! A vial of blood from his boot, and he just wrote "D-X" in the Crime Corner! Yeah, Static, that's really classy. This man makes me sick. JACK JONES: Something tells me you're not going to enjoy this match, cos I know you're not a fan of the CHAMPIONS either. And with that, the Foo Fighters bring it up. "AS LOW YOU GO, AS LOW AS YOU GO", and the fans booing maybe changes tone. A different kind of hatred for the hated tag team champions, hated Stylin' Kyle and Bruce "Hated" Richards. They are, of course, each wearing TWO title belts: an NAPW Tag Team Title belt, and one of the legendary (and infamous) Gastown Tag Team belts, worn one above the other. Terry Brandon, of course, accompanies his men to the ring, gleaming briefcase in hand. He stops to talk to the camera for a moment, pointing at D-X and rattling off jazz about how they're the best, the top, the ones who aren't about to lose, Rat Pack supreme babydoll! JACK JONES: Would you look at all that gold? Not takin' anything away from The Crimes, but D-X are the PICTURE of tag team wrestling in NAPW! BILL HEWSON: Oh yeah, what's that? Dirty, conniving jerks who can't fight a fair fight? JACK JONES: Hey, they've won plenty of fair fights. Like last week. When they beat The Dudes clean in the center of the ring to regain their belts! BILL HEWSON: ... D-X hits the ring, and yes, there is a mutual respect between the teams. Or at least between Beast/Kyle & Caliber. The Beast, at any rate, has a look of disdain for Static, who is in the highest spirits he's been in probably...ever. Beneath that mask must be the widest grin in the NAPW. Rex leans in his corner, eyeing the opponents. Frank Warburton holds the mic to his lips, inhales, and--- BILL HEWSON: Wait a minute! That's KISS! JACK JONES: KISS saves Christmas? BILL HEWSON: And here come the FORMER Tag Team Champions...THE DUDES! To the surprise and obvious consternation of both teams, yes, it IS The Dudes! Tiffany Macintyre is notably absent, but Mike Johnston & Cameron Scott make their way out to the ring, slapping hands with the fans who now have SOMEBODY to cheer for! The Dudes walk around the ring, slapping hands the entire way, until they come to the timekeeper's table and lean against it, clapping and applauding...D-X? "GO KYLE!" "KICK HIS MASKED SASSY ASS, BRUCE!" Terry Brandon starts arguing with the ref, but Dick Kiebich shrugs and says hey, let them watch! And NOW Frank Warburton begins. FRANK WARBURTON: Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is set for one fall, and is for the NAPW TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIP! Introducing first, the challengers! First, from Winsdor...SSSSTATIC! And his partner, from Parts Unknown, North Carolina... He is REX! CALIBER! They are THHHHHE CRIMMMMMES! And now, the champions, accompanied by the GREATEST MIND IN WRESTLING TODAY TERRY BRANDON... from Moose Jaw Saskatchewan...STYLIN' KYLE ROBERTS! His partner, from St. Albert... He is BRUCE! THE BEAST! RICHARDS! They are the current and reigning NAPW Tag Team Champions... THE NEW & IMPROVED...D! X! DING DING DING, and this match is on. It looks like it's going to be Rex Caliber & Kyle Roberts leading off. Collar-and-elbow tie-up, Rex Caliber wins that and goes to the standing arm bar. Drives the point of the elbow into Kyle's shoulder blade, knocking him down. Rex immediately goes back to the arm, hammerlock, Kyle elbows out of it, and then Rex counters, and then Kyle counters! It's hammertime, apparently. Rex counters again, but this time he hooks Kyle up for a hammerlock back suplex! And that's going to do some damage, but Kyle immediately makes the tag, shaking his arm. The Beast steps into the ring, always an imposing presence. He hooks up with Rex, BOOM, boot to the gut doubles over Caliber! The Beast hooks a front facelock, suplex puts Rex down, quick cover and that gets one. Caliber gets up, and now Static wants in? He's bouncing up and down for the tag, gleeful as the fans begin to boo even heavier. Caliber tags him in, and now it's the luchadore in the ring against The Beast. Static locks up, The Beast EASILY powers the man down, into the corner, break and Static with a rake of the eye! Richards momentarily blinded, but that's enough time for Static to begin firing away with rights and lefts, he hits the ropes, spinning heel kick! The Beast goes down! Static hits the ropes again, tags in Rex on the rebound. Static with a flipping senton splash, and then Rex Caliber follows it up with a running guillotine leg drop! One, two, The Beast kicks out of that! Caliber with a quick choke, but that's broken up in a hurry by the referee. Terry Brandon takes offense...and suddenly The Dudes are totally right beside him, arguing with the referee about the choke as loud as Brandon! Terry stops short, looking to either Dude on either side of him in disgust, as Kyle tells 'em to scram. The Dudes clap and applaud Kyle? JACK JONES: What the blue hell are Johnston & Scott DOING out here? BILL HEWSON: Well, apparently they are lending their support to D-X! It doesn't look like it's appreciated mind you. Meanwhile, Caliber drops The Beast with a smashing dropkick! And wait a minute, he's going for the Nexus Cloverleaf on those tree-trunk like legs of The Beast! The Beast fighting that off immediately, and whoa! Manages to send Caliber off balance towards the ropes. Rex regains his balance and turns around...The Beast with a huge clothesline sends Rex Caliber straight outside the ring! The crowd would cheer, if they didn't hate everybody in the match. The Beast makes a tag to Kyle as Rex pulls himself up, and now what's this? Kyle with his back to Rex Caliber, The Beast hits the ropes...BACK BODY DROP! THE BEAST SENT FLYING TO THE OUTSIDE ON REX CALIBER! BILL HEWSON: Oh my gosh! Two-hundred and seventy-pounds crashing down right onto Rex Caliber! And that's the dangerous part about The Beast...the man is not only powerful, he's not only dominating, but he can FLY! Almost as well as Static, I'd suggest! On the outside now, Kyle has joined the fray to give it to Rex Caliber, but you can't possibly think Static's going to stay out of this, can you? The Dudes boo and hiss as Static hits the ropes himself with a FLYING NO HANDS SUICIDE TOPE. Stylin' Kyle gets cleared out! And that's enough for Terry Brandon, who grabs his briefcase and stalks Rex Caliber --- out of sight of the ref, who is yelling at the spilled bodies of Static & Kyle! Except...the briefcase is MISSING? Wait! Michael Johnston just put the briefcase back on the ring apron, smiling politely. "I think you dropped his, Mr. Brandon!" BILL HEWSON: That's awfully nice of Johnston, but why is that vein on Terry's forehead throbbing? JACK JONES: Those...they...hey! BILL HEWSON: Meanwhile, Rex Caliber & The Beast are still fighting out! Rex Caliber who has over thirty stitches in his forehead to close up a wound he suffered wrestling in Steelside Wrestling over the weekend! JACK JONES: It's not an easy life for an indepedent wrestler, even those in the NAPW where the money is good. Rex with an irish whip to The Beast, going to shoot him into the steel ringpost --- Beast puts on the brakes! Caliber face-first into the steel ring post, he's staggered, KYLE with a lariat out of nowhere! And now Stylin' Kyle rolls Rex Caliber back into the ring, and Rex Caliber's stitches have been opened up! He's bleeding from the forehead, Kyle with a snarl...LIFTS HIM UP! MOOSE JAW DRIVER! ONE! TWO! STATIC BREAKS UP THE PINFALL! Static with the elbow to the back of Kyle's head, and that's enough. Kyle still with the advantage, pulls Rex up to his feet, and he tags in The Beast! Brainbuster by Kyle! The Beast off the middle rope with a slinging splash, one, two, Caliber gets a shoulder up! Rex Caliber is bleeding all over now, that cut opened by the steel ring post! The Beast stands him up, and YES! TORTURE RACK APPLIED! D-X is not wasting any time taking advantage of Rex Caliber's injured state! The Dudes on the outside, one Dude on either side of a nervous Terry Brandon, cheer "TAP TAP TAP!" The crowd is laughing at that, even as they find energy to boo D-X and Teh Crimes. And Rex Caliber...is IN TROUBLE! THE BEAST using those massive shoulders to power Rex into submission, but WHOA! Where did THAT come from? Static just shot from the outside of the ring in with a springboard drop-kick directly to the face of The Beast! And that broke up the torture rack, Rex Caliber makes the tag and here comes Static, the sadistic luchadore! The Beast stands --- Static with a flying leg lariat puts him back down, followed up by a standing moonsault! That's a cover, one, two, The Beast with enough strength to kick the lighter man off of him! Static grabs a handful of The Beast's hair and thrusts at him, screaming "SUCK MY VOODOO CHAMPMAN!" Oh my, dropkick to the FACE. The Beast staggers back to the ropes, leaning against the bottom ropes, and Static gets a head of STEAM --- The Beast moves! Static lands on the bottom rope with both feet, great agility, he leaps off with a FLYING ENZIGURI! SNAP to the back of The Beast's head, and Kyle breaks up a close count! Static gets up, Kyle boots him in the gut ignoring the referee's admonishment...POLAR-IZER! The Beast makes a cover, one, two, Static gets a cover! Kyle pulls his hair in frustration and heads back to his corner... and then stops short! BILL HEWSON: What's got Kyle's attention --- The Dudes have the Gastown Tag Belts, and they're...celebrating? JACK JONES: GET THEM OUT OF HERE! The champs don't need this! Terry Brandon is feeling the same thing, yelling for The Dudes to get the heck away from him, but The Dudes continue to innocently hold the Gastown Tag belts over their heads, cheering on D-X! "YEAH GASTOWN! WHOOO!" And that's about it for Kyle, because there are only two things he can't stand, and people holding the precious GASTOWN TAG BELTS other than he and Bruce is one of them. The other is, clearly, bears. Kyle drops to the outside and starts tearing a strip out of The Dudes, who seem surprised that Kyle's upset. Johnston & Scott both continue to grin affably as Kyle demands they put the belts down. The Dudes say "oh hey, it's all good" and put the tag belts back on the timekeepers table. Johnston even extends his hand to Kyle, everything's good, and Kyle has had enough of The Dudes, shoving Johnston now and telling him to get the hell away. Which is the point when both Dudes crack their knuckles and suggest. "Oh...that's how it's gonna be? It's on." AND RUSH KYLE! THE DUDES JUST NAILED STYLIN' KYLE ON THE OUTSIDE! Johnston with an irish whip RIGHT INTO THE FOOTBALL TACKLE BY SCOTT! Kyle just got folded in half! Terry Brandon is apopleptic, trying to get the referee's attention, but all the ref sees is The Dudes helping Kyle to his feet gently. He admonishes them, and they say "oh hey, just helping out!" Meanwhile in the ring, The Beast catches Static with a CHOKESLAM! He's got him down, one, two, Rex Caliber makes the save! Caliber is still bleeding and bloody, but he's got lots left in him apparently! The Beast & Caliber trading blows, The Beast is fired up, and he sends Caliber into the ropes, CLOTHESLINE, ducked, Rex whirls around and hooks the fists for a German Suplex! The Beast trying to fight it, grabbing the top rope, and wait---Static has hopped to the ring apron! SPRINGBOARD---german suplex by Caliber... OH MY GOSH, Static with a springboard clothesline to The Beast as Caliber hits a HUGE German Release Suplex! Static covers, and Rex looks to block Kyle, who is...barely getting into the ring yet! ONE! TWO! And for the record Static has the TIGHTS THREE! FRANK WARBURTON: Here are you winners...and NEWWWW TAG TEAM CHAMPEEENS! THEEEEE CRIIIIIIIMES! BILL HEWSON: Oh my gosh! We have new tag team champions! And D-X has nobody to blame but themselves! A stunning upset by The Crimes! JACK JONES: What are you TALKING about? The Dudes clearly prevent Stylin' Kyle from coming to the aid of his partner! It was a handicap match for the last five minutes! BILL HEWSON: Maybe two, but you know, if Kyle hadn't shoved Johnston down The Dudes wouldn't have retaliated! Kyle got what was coming to him! I don't like The Crimes much, but I don't like D-X either! The Dudes, by the by, have hit the crowd and are making an exit through the audience, laughing it up with the audience and being the most popular slackers in NAPW. In the ring, Static has dropped to the canvas, holding his NAPW Tag title belt in a tight embrace as Rex Caliber holds the belt close to his chest, resulting in blood being smeared over the Gold. Terry Brandon is hustling D-X to the back, and Kyle has a murderous look in his eyes, both men supporting The Beast who is looking worse for wear after that brutal finisher by The Crimes. BILL HEWSON: Static has no right to be happy, not after what he did tonight. JACK JONES: STATIC has no right to be happy? Static & Rex Caliber... I mean, they'll be great champs, but... THE DUDES! THOSE FREAKING DUDES! BILL HEWSON: Yes...They ARE The Dudes! We'll be right back! Zing, Hewson. Zing.
JACK JONES: You're looking at the next big thing in the NAPW, Bill Hewson. Any man who Brandon backs is on the fast track to the top! BILL HEWSON: Well, it hasn't been a great night for his clients so far, but Evan Cartwright looks ready and able for his debut match here tonight. Evan Cartwright and Terry Brandon climb into the ring, and both bask in the hate of the audience until "Turn the Page" hits up on the sound system. Surprisingly, the fans pop, and begin cheering a rather amused looking Maniac who gets to the ring in his own damn time. FRANK WARBURTON: The following contest is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first, from Cairo, Illinois, and weighing in at TWO HUNDRED, twenty two and a quarter pounds... EVAN CARTWRIGHT! And his opponent, from Toronto, Ontario, weighing in at two-hundred and SEVENTY nine pounds... MAAAANIIIIIAAAAC! The crowd pops again, but Evan Cartwright has had enough of this mysterious "Maniac" love and rushes the veteran. As he begins raining down shots, the bell rings, and the match officially gets underway! After a few stiff elbows to the back of Maniac, Evan hooks the arm, and Japanese Armdrag! But Maniac is already back on his feet and lunges with a flying lariat that knocks Cartwright down. Now it's Evan's turn for a quick kip up, and both men stop and just GLARE at one another for a moment, clearly sizing each other up seriously for a moment. The crowd is awash in early boos and cheers. BILL HEWSON: Very evenly matched opponents here, and both men seem to know it. JACK JONES: All I know is that we're being joined now by my good friend Terry Brandon at the announce table. Terry, always a pleasure. TERRY BRANDON: Indeed it is Jack. A great pleasure. If only this biased hack you call a broadcast partner were absent tonight. BILL HEWSON: Excuse me!? Both men have locked up in the ring. Maniac attempts to lock up around Cartwright's neck, but gets reversed into a Snapmare, and DROPKICK to the back of the head! Cartwright, now in charge, grabs Maniac, SUPLEX! And he follows up with an elbow drop right into Maniac's sternum! Evan Cartwright doesn't give him any time, quickly moving in for a pin! One! Just one! Maniac kicks out and Evan argues with the ref anyway. TERRY BRANDON: Look at that referee count! Can he even count to three, I wonder? BILL HEWSON: It looked legitimate to me, Maniac kicked out at one. TERRY BRANDON: There you go again, always siding against my boys! I tell you, one day that mouth is going to get you into a lot of trouble, Hewson! BILL HEWSON: What did I say? Cartwright grabs a handful of hair and hauls Maniac to his feet only to get elbowed in the stomach for his trouble. Maniac latches onto his head! The Reverse Dragon is hooked on and Cartwright begins flailing! TERRY BRANDON: You, Hewson, are just another symptom of this corrupt Canadian federation. Never giving my boys a chance to shine! I mean, just look at what happened a little while ago when a biased referee cost the New and Improved D-X their tag team titles! I bet he and the Dudes and the Crimes were all planning that from the beginning! It's a conspiracy! Cartwright has managed to get a shot in on Maniac's ribs, but rather then let go, Maniac hauls Cartwright over! Suplex! Evan is quickly back on his feet and charges, hitting a clothesline as Maniac turns around. Maniac kips up, but Cartwright kept rushing towards the ropes! ASAI DROPKICK! Maniac tumbles across the ring! Cartwright goes to get the pin, only to have Maniac trip him up! SHARPSHOOTER...NO! Cartwright made it to the ropes before Maniac could lock it in, and ref breaks it up. TERRY BRANDON: Good work! Smart move! That's my boy out there, showing us why he's the next Provincial Champ! JACK JONES: Your damn right he is. You know what Hewson? You should show some damn respect to Terry Brandon. He's single handedly making this a respectable promotion, and you need to show some class and stop bad mouthing him! BILL HEWSON: What? I haven't said anything! Back in the ring, the two men have locked back up. Evan Cartwright cinches the waist, goes for a suplex, but wait! Maniac hooks his leg, reverses, DDT! Maniac keeps up the offensive, trying to keep Cartwright from getting an in. He pulls Cartwright to his feet, there's the Irish Whip, and DROPKICK right into Cartwright's knee! Evan Cartwright grimaces and stumbles, clutching at his knee, only to have Maniac hit a chop block from behind! Cartwright is now down against the ropes, and things are starting to look grim! Maniac grabs Cartwright by the leg, and HAULS him off the bottom rope! FLAPJACK right into the middle of the ring! Maniac is like a rabid dog, stomping on Cartwright's knee, then grabbing hold and hitting a VERY elevated stump puller! Cartwright grimaces and clutches at the worked over knee, but Maniac isn't done! Now in firm control, Maniac hooks the leg... FIGURE FOUR LEG LOCK! Cartwright howls in rage and pain and flails around, desperate to find a rope! Maniac grins sadistically, and just keeps applying the pressure! The crowd is on its feet! TERRY BRANDON: That's an illegal move! Where's the disqualification! BILL HEWSON: Illegal... what are you even talking about!? TERRY BRANDON: I've had enough of your attitude, Hewson! Mark my words! Excuse me! Cartwright can't hold much longer! Maniac is screaming at him to tap! The crowd is chanting "TAP! TAP! TAP!" Brandon throws down his headset and rushes to the ring apron! The ref can't stop him in time, as he slides his briefcase right into Cartwright's waiting hands! SMACK! Maniac takes the briefcase across the skull! DING! DING! DING! FRANK WARBURTON: Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of this match due to DISQUALIFICATION... MAAAAANIAAAAC! JACK JONES: What a screw-job! Cartwright had that match won! Terry Brandon helps Evan Cartwright to his feet, dusting him off and shouting at the ref for screwing Cartwright. MANIAC FROM BEHIND! He hammers away at Cartwright's back, blood streaming down his face from that shot from the briefcase! The ref tries to get between them and the bell starts ringing again, but Maniac shoves him aside and keeps hammering! Now Terry Brandon goes to stop Maniac! Maniac takes one sideways glance at Brandon... kick... WHAM! HEADHUNTER ON TERRY BRANDON! The manager is KO'd in the ring, and Evan Cartwright is trying to get away from a maniacal...uh...Maniac, heading for a rear door to the gym --- but Maniac is right behind him! BILL HEWSON: For Heaven's Sake! Someone get control of this! The referee is calling for security, for officials, for ANYONE to come and help! Things are getting confused! Several NAPW security guys are rushing after the pair as they brawl straight out the back door! Members of the crowd are following them now! Wait! Stylin' Kyle Roberts and Bruce "The Beast" Richards rush out of the back! The New and Improved D-X (showered but worse for wear) are suddenly there, moving with security and a wave of fans into the parking lot, and the camera is right on their tail! JACK JONES: It's chaos! Someone call the cops! Arrest that... MANIAC! Out in the parking lot, Maniac has Evan's head and is slamming him up against a nearby chain-link fence! The crowd is chanting "MA-NI-AC! MA-NI-AC!" Security tackles! Maniac roars with rage as three men hold him back, and Evan Cartwright stalks up and punches him, stiffly, right in the mouth! Now D-X is in the fray! They grab hold on Evan Cartwright and haul him back, shouting at him to calm down! A security member moves to help! These men want to KILL one another! Six men are barely enough to hold them at bay! BILL HEWSON: This is chaotic... Brandon is down in the ring, he's out! And Campus security is now joining the crowd outside, they're hauling Maniac AND Cartwright off in opposite directions! JACK JONES: For what, Cartwright was defending himself! It's this maniac...uh...MANIAC who tried to destroy---THAT'S MY BEAMER CARTWRIGHT GOT THROWN INTO! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! BILL HEWSON: Compose yourself, man! We have one more commercial break, we'll get this ALL sorted out, and than: It's Predator! Chris Casino! NAPW Title on the line! Don't move a muscle!
BILL HEWSON: Quite the show tonight, but now it's the Main Event! And one has to wonder if Chris Casino has made a mistake in challenging The Predator to this title match! The Predator...he isn't exactly a push-over. JACK JONES: Chris Casino doesn't make mistakes. Terry Brandon doesn't make mistakes. The lunatic Maniac, those chumps The Dudes, they think they're so damn hot tonight, but make no mistake: Chris Casino is leaving the arena tonight STILL the NAPW Champion! A complete and stark contrast to Criss Angel...Frank Sinatra's velvety tones float through the PA. Luck be a lady tonight? Sure, especially if we're talking about Chris Casino. The NAPW Champion strolls lazily through the curtain, blonde hair in a ponytail and custom "american" title belt around his waist. The crowd pulls forth a special kind of booing reserved only for now. BILL HEWSON: He is the NAPW Champion, like him or hate him. Conspicuous by his absence, of course, is Terry Brandon, being treated backstage after that Headhunter by Maniac. Evan Cartwright & D-X are tied up with NAIT Security and a couple constables from the police force after that parking lot brawl... Tonight, Chris Casino faces The Predator ALONE. JACK JONES: What, is that shocking to you? That the NAPW Champion is alone? Chris Casino, let me tell you something Hewson! Chris Casino is the NAPW Champion! Do you think he's the champion because of other people? HE is the champion because he IS a Champion! Casino hits the ring, and poses arrogantly on the four corners with the title as Predator crouches in the center of the ring, waiting. Casino drops down and unstraps the waist, telling the referee to "You wait until I'm ready, bitch." Casino folds the belt and finally hangs it to Referee Dick Kiebich. Kiebich holds it above his head, and Frank Warbuton gets ready to start the match proper CASINO FROM BEHIND! Chris Casino nails The Predator with a cheap shot, and he's firing away in the corner! Irish whip by Casino to the opposite corner, Predator puts on the brakes WITH AUTHORITY! Casino sent for the ride HARD into the corner, he staggers out... Predator grabs him with both hands and sends Chris flying sprawled back across the ring...OOOOOOOOOH. Casino slid crotch-first into the ring post, and now he's doubled over on the outside. Predator slowly, calmly stalks his prey, the NAPW Title on the line. He grabs Casino and hauls him up atomic drop style...oh my! Casino dropped crotch-first on top of the guardrail! JACK JONES: Now how is THAT legal?! BILL HEWSON: Predator going for possibly Casino's favorite body part, but what power! Casino rolled back into the ring and it's been all Predator thus far! Casino pulls himself to his feet, blinking away the pain in his nether regions as Predator steps to the top rope? Three hundred and twenty-five pounds come FLYING off, huge shoulderblock catches Casino when he turns around! There's the cover, ONE, TWO, Casino kicks out! And Predator hauls him up by the ponytail, Chris Casino shot into the ropes...Casino with a spinning head scissors! Predator goes down but gets RIGHT back up --- Casino with a boot to the gut, he grabs him, SUPLEX? Can he? He does! Snap suplex on The Predator! Surprising strength by the champion in one quick burst, and now Chris Casino goes to work, stomping away as The Predator tries to rise. Just vicious boots to the head and face. Casino with an irish whip --- Casino DROPS to the canvas for added momentum! Predator sternum-first into the turnbuckle! He staggers out, Casino grabs him...both knees into Predator's back AND HE FALLS BACKWARDS! Good Lord, it's the Caribbean Backbreaker! The Predator is down and in pain from that huge backbreaker, and now Chris Casino...CLIMBS THE TURNBUCKLE! Casino calls for it, he's wasting time showboating for this derisive crowd! FLYING ELBOW DROP CONNECTS. ONE, TWO, TH---NOOOO! Predator kicks out of the elbow drop! BILL HEWSON: I thought that was it right there! The Predator with HUGE strength, huge power, what's it going to take to put him away! JACK JONES: What's it gonna take? Look Casino's way? He's slapping that thigh! It's time for the SUPERKICK! And as The Predator slowly gets up, Casino is indeed ready. Predator turns to face him --- SNAP! The Superkick connects! Predator timbers like a big ol' tree, and Casino hits the cover (somewhat arrogantly) one, two, th---NOOOOOO! Casino is in SHOCK! The fans are on their feet! This could be the night Casino is dethroned, The Rat Pack hasn't had a great night so far, it could be a sweep! Casino is arguing the count with the referee, he's livid. When he turns around, The Predator is on his feet! He boots Casino in the gut swiftly and then hits a spectacularly screwed-up looking Dominator! Casino is down and out, and The Predator raises his arm to signal...that it's time for the hunt to End. Chris Casino is slow to get up, blinking rapidly, he doesn't even know where he is. Finally, slowly, inevitably he turns... SPEAR SPEAR SPEAR... Casino ducked down and pulled down the middle rope! The Predator's momentum carried him right to the floor, and the referee is admonishing Casino! Casino saying hey, what, it's his own damn fault as The Predator tries to get back in the ring... BILL HEWSON: And The Predator...if he had connected, we would have a new champion right now --- JACK JONES: He DIDN'T, Hewson, that's the important part. That's why Chris Casino is such a great champion and this referee needs to leave him alone and do his job! BILL HEWSON: The referee doing a fine job in my opinion OH MY GOD! THAT'S LOBO! Lobo just came out of the crowd with a STEEL CHAIR! NO! Chair to the back of Predator! And another shot! Oh my God, what is LOBO doing here --- he has Predator on Action! this week! It could've been an NAPW Title match... Lobo just rolled Predator in the ring! NOT LIKE THIS! The cover... And... JACK JONES: NO! NOO! HOW ... HOW? And YES, to the shock of Casino, Lobo, and the hundreds in attendance, The Predator kicked out of that chair shot! The Predator won't stop! Casino looks angry, angrier than perhaps he's been in NAPW! He's got Predator hooked, can he do it? OH MY! He did! A brainbuster, incredible! Casino pops to the top rope... AND HE HITS IT! Predator just got cashed out, no, no, ONE, TWO...THREE! And that was enough to put The Predator down! FRANK WARBURTON: Here is your winner and still NAPW Champion...CHRIS! CASINO! And then Lobo hops in the ring, and Casino slaps him on the chest in thanks...and Casino directs traffic! He's pointing to Predator, who is already getting up, and yelling for Lobo to nail him! Lobo charges, Predator moves! Lobo's chair hits the ropes and rebounds back in his own face, Predator grabs him...OH MY! PREDATOR LIFTING LOBO UP! BLUE THUNDER BOMB! He shoves Lobo's legs away and gets up CASINO WITH THE CHAIR! Chris Casino picked up that chair and NO! Another vile chairshot onto Predator, who collapses! Casino unfolds the chair and puts it with the bottom leg bar on top of Predator's throat, and than he sits down. Lobo is rising, Casino screams for a mic. He gets one, and than leans down to a choking Predator, the belt in one hand and the mic in the other. CHRIS CASINO: What did you think you could do, huh? You (bleep) rip-off! You really thought you could take the title, a loser like you? MANIAC can't take it, JC COOK can't take it, YOU can't take it... nobody can take it! You'll end up exactly like the man I took it from! Homeless, begging for change like a bum on the street! Yeah, just D! you'll all end up ---* One letter. Said real, real loud. The crowd? They do something along the lines of FREAKING EXPLODE. Because D!. Has come. From the crowd. BILL HEWSON: D! is here! D! IS HERE! CASINO GETS NAILED! Lobo looks out...OH MY GOD! THE BEAT-O-BARRAGE! D!...LOBO GETS HIS HEAD KICKED OFF! JACK JONES: This is impossible! D! was done! He was out for good! BILL HEWSON: NO! D! IS! HERE! And he is, in street clothes and a green toque! Lobo gets nailed, rolls out of the ring, and now D! smacks Casino as Predator rolls out of the ring, freed of the chair! D! UNLOADS~! ON CHRIS CASINO, THE CROWD ROARING WITH EVERY PUNCH! Casino staggered, and D! sends him to the ROPES... PLAGUE-LIKE SPINEBUSTER! SPINE ON THE PINE! D! roars to the crowd, raises his arms in a complete adrenaline RUSH! He turns to Casino, preparing to KICK CASINO'S FREAKING HEAD OFF ... LOBO hauls Casino out of the ring! Lobo hauling Casino down the aisle, Casino...staring in mingled shock/awe/surprise/fear. They pause at the curtain, because D!...has the MIC! His voice is full of fire and he leans over the top rope, every word resounding! D!: Y'see, it's like THIS, peanut. I'M NOT GONE. YOU don't retire people! *I* retire people! Because you've had THREE! WEEKS! to stack the deck in your favour. Now guess what? NOTHING'S CHANGED! You're still nothing without backup, your backup sucks, your ponytail makes you look like a girl, and best of all, D! IS ALIVE! AND! KICKING! BILL HEWSON: D! IS ALIVE! And he's chasing down Casino & Lobo, who are making an exit POST-HASTE! JACK JONES: I am legitimately in shock. My sources swore D! was working at the Chapters on Whyte Avenue!
BILL HEWSON: ... What a night we have had! D! has returned! We're out of time...we'll see you on ACTION! GOOD NIGHT!
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