MONDAY. NIGHT. FIGHTS02/06/2006The NAPW introduction, to the tune of Boy Charlie's "Over With," flashes across the television screen. Fade into the NAIT Athletic Center's... PARKING LOT. Static is walking towards the arena's back entrance, where four Edmonton police officers are waiting for him. STATIC: I know, guys, there's trouble. Look, I can vouch for my whereabouts, and I'm cool with this, so if we can handle this calmly, I can get to my match and you guys can get back home. OFFICER #1: Sorry, pal. It won't be that easy. I've got a warrant for your arrest. You have the right to remain silent... As two officers jerk Static's wrists behind his back, he becomes emotionally unraveled. STATIC: Hey! Hey, wait a good (BLEEP) minute, what am I getting -arrested- for?! OFFICER #4: Maybe it's different in WINDSOR, but here in EDMONTON, disturbing the peace gets you a night in jail and five-thousand dollars bond. If you stay calm, we may be able to negotiate... STATIC: Stay calm?! CALM?! I've got a MATCH tonight, I'm teaming with the Dudes against the Doomriders! OFFICER #2: We can do this the easy way, or the hard way, but if you resist arrest youÕve got bigger problems than a night in prison, sir. Cameron Scott and Mike Johnston rush into the scene as Static is being handcuffed. MIKE JOHNSTON: WhatÕs going on here? STATIC: What does it look like!? OFFICER #3: Your friend here is under arrest for disturbing the peace. You got a problem, you can complain down at the station. CAMERON SCOTT: The one across the street? OFFICER #1: The very same. Come on pal. MIKE JOHNSTON: This is bad... Static! Dude! Hang tight, we'll try and figure this out! We go straight to the NAPW announcing desk where the Voices of Alberta Wrestling start mulling over what they've just seen. BILL HEWSON: Well, this is NOT how we typically start Monday Nigt Fights live at the NAIT Gymnasium but it seems like tonight's not going to be an ordinary night! I'm Bill Hewson, this is Jack "Attack" Jones, and we're LIVE amongst FOUR-HUNDRED-FIFTY screaming fans. JACK JONES: Bah! I say you're not a wrestler if you haven't been arrested once or twice. Static is OUT of the running tonight and that's gonna be BAD NEWS for the Dudes as they take on ALL THREE Doomriders. BILL HEWSON: PLUS the NAPW Title match that many fand have been clamouring for... It's One Letter, Said Real Loud, D! defending against the phenomenal Ravager in a match that's gonna take both men to their LIMITS! And the Provincial Title is on the line, Minstrel versus Evan Cartwright of the Rat Pack! JACK JONES: And a first blood match--I LOVE one of those. And Match of the Night, Chris Casino takes on Lobo in the Canada Cup Quarterfinal. BILL HEWSON: But first, we've got TAG ACTION as the show gets UNDERWAY. "Killing In the name of..." by Rage Against The Machine hits the sound system as the Decapitators come out to a nice little pop from the crowd. They climb into the ring and look ready for battle. The Devil In The Kitchen" by Ashley MacIssac replaces Rage and The Celtic Assassins come out to a mixed reaction from the crowd. Half booing the other half cheering. They climb into the ring and Frank Warburton earns his paycheque. FRANK WARBURTON: Your first match of the evening is scheduled for one fall and is a tag team match. First, weighing in at a combined weight of 393 lbs...Diamond & Axe...The Decapitators!!! And their opponents, weighing in tonight at a combined weight of 565 lbs..."The Scottish Wrecking Machine" Al Thoes & "The Irish Adonis" Bobby O'Brady...The Celtic Assassins!!! BILL HEWSON: This should be a great match! Two young up and coming teams looking to make their mark here tonight! JACK JONES: The Decapitators are screwed. These Celtic Assassins are gonna be major players in the tag team scene! Just you watch! BILL HEWSON: Actually, we're about to. The referee calls for the bell and it looks like Axe and Al Thoes will be starting the match for their respective teams. They lock up in the center of he ring and "The Scottish Wrecking Machine" uses his leverage and strength to shove Axe away into the ropes. Thoes smiles and gestures for another tie up which Axe happily obliges in. Again, it's Thoes who shoves off Axe and sends him stumbling back into his corner. Diamond whispers something to Axe who nods in approval. Axe looks to tie up for a third time with Thoes but it's a trick! Axe catches Thoes with a boot to the gut on the way in that doubles him over! Axe lands a pair of hard forearm shots to the head of Al Thoes that backs him up. Axe whips Thoes into the ropes and hits a clothesline that drops the Celtic Assassin! Al Thoes quickly rolls into his corner as Axe waits for him. BILL HEWSON: The Celtic Assassins have a huge weight and power advantage over the Decapitators in this match. They'll have to use their brains and quickness to stay one step ahead of them. JACK JONES: Brains? Are we still talking about the Decapitators? Al Thoes tags in "The Irish Adonis" Bobby O'Brady who cautiously enters the ring. The two men lock up in the center of the ring and O'Brady slaps a side headlock onto Axe. Axe shoves Bobby into the ropes and drops him to the mat with a shoulder block. Bobby scrambles back to his feet and takes a brutal knife edge chop across the chest. Axe goes for another, but Bobby ducks underneath and jabs a thumb into the eye of Axe as he spins around. Bobby O'Brady grabs the arm of Axe and hits a vicious looking short arm clothesline that sends the Decapitator to the mat! Bobby quickly pulls Axe off the canvas and shoots him into the ropes catching him with a powerslam on the rebound! Bobby drags Axe to the Assassins corner and tags in Al Thoes. The two men whip Axe into the far ropes and connect with a stiff double clothesline! Thoes goes for the pin but Diamond breaks it up before the referee can even start his count. JACK JONES: Get the midget outta there! BILL HEWSON: Diamond just made the save for his team! Thoes pulls Axe to his feet long enough to hit a stalling vertical suplex. Al locks in a painful looking rear chin lock as the fans start to try and rally the Decapitators. Diamond makes a move as if he's coming into the ring and it's enough to distract Al enough so that he loses his grip and allows Axe to pull himself free. As the referee is getting Diamond back onto the ring apron, Al pulls Axe to his feet and whips him across the ring into the corner of the Celtic Assassins. Thoes charges in, but Axe gets a boot up and plants it in the face of "The Scottish Wrecking Machine!" Axe hits a back elbow to the face of Bobby O'Brady and lunges out of the Celtic corner! Thoes tries to grab Axe, but he dives across the ring and tags in Diamond! Diamond quickly enters the ring and hits a running dropkick to the right knee of Al Thoes! The Celtic Assassin drops to his knees and takes another dropkick, this one square in the face! BILL HEWSON: Diamond is on a roll! Once he gets started it's almost impossible to stop him! JACK JONES: I hate all that high flying crap! With Al laying prone on the mat, Diamond hits a corkscrew legdrop and goes for a pin attempt, 1...2...Al Thoes powers out with authority! Diamond goes to the nearest turnbuckle and climbs to the top as Thoes gets to his feet. Diamond takes flight with a cross body attempt but Thoes catches him in mid air! Al Thoes powers Diamond above his head in a gorilla press, but Axe rushes in and hits a kick to the gut of Thoes that causes him to lose his grip on Diamond! Diamond hooks the head of Thoes on the way down and delivers a brutal DDT! The referee is trying to get Axe out of the ring as Diamond covers Al. Bobby O'Brady rushes in and drops a leg across the back of Diamonds head breaking up the pin attempt! Axe shoves the referee aside and goes straight for Bobby O'Brady! Bobby backdrops Axe to the outside but the Decapitator lands on his feet, turns around and drags a surprised O'Brady out of the ring by his legs! BILL HEWSON: This thing is getting out of hand in a hurry! JACK JONES: I bet the Decapitators are trying to get themselves DQ'd to save themselves the embarrassment of a pinfall defeat! Meanwhile, Al Thoes is back on his feet and pulls Diamond up to a standing position. Al hits the ropes then goes to plant a boot, but the nimble Diamond scoots underneath, rebounds off the ropes himself and dropkicks him in the knee. Thoes has been brought halfway down, Diamond comes off of the ropes again with a running neck snap to take the Wrecking Machine down. Diamond goes upstairs to the top turnbuckle, O'Brady screams in terror from ringside, Diamondsault! Diamond hooks the leg as Axe keeps O'Brady from getting into the ring, 1...2...3!!! FRANK WARBURTON: Winners of this match, The Decapitators!! BILL HEWSON: Good Lord did you see Thoes soak up all of that impact? What a win by The Decapitators! Diamond rolls out of the ring as O'Brady stands at ringside, still looking on in horror. The Decapitators raise their arms in victory as they leave the ringside area.
JACK JONES: Is this guy a superfan or what? FRANK WARBURTON: Ladies and gentlemen, the following match is the first QUARTER FINAL MATCH for the CANADIAN CUP. "Devilman" heralds the arrival of Lobo to the ring. Lobo emerges from the curtains with Terry Brandon at his side, and the crowd, amazingly, cheers! Lobo seems pleased. He rushes to the ring, and works the crowd while Terry Brandon lags behind at the curtain. BILL HEWSON: I have to say, the crowd's really been getting behind Lobo these past few weeks, Jack Attack. Furious Frank cuts in... but you can barely tell because the crowd is booing so loud. Terry Brandon holds the curtain for Chris Casino as the former NAPW Champion enters the arena. He takes his time heading for the ring, smirking at Lobo, with Brandon at his back. JACK JONES: I'm not sure I understand, Bill Hewson. Is Terry Brandon acting as manager to both these men tonight? BILL HEWSON: Well, they are both his clients, Jack Attack. I'll hand it to Brandon, he's not playing favorites. JACK JONES: Well he should! Casino is a former champ, and Lobo's a former chump. It doesn't take rocket science to see who should get Brandon's favor. FRANK WARBURTON: Introducing first, from Toronto, Ontario. Weighing in at THREE HUNDRED and TEN pounds... LOOOOOBOOOOOO! And his opponent, from Las Vegas, Nevada. Weighing in at TWO HUNDRED and TWENTY pounds... CHRIS... CASIIIINOOOOOO! Ding, ding! The bell sounds and the match is on. Both men meet in the center of the ring, and Lobo gives a nod of respect. Chris Casino retorts by laughing in his opponent's face. Lobo counters with a solid punch, right in the kisser. Casino reels and the crowd goes wild! JACK JONES: Such disrespect! BILL HEWSON: Chris Casino is certainly not showing any class here towards his opponent. JACK JONES: I was talking about Lobo! That's the former NAPW Champion he just sucker punched! Casino recovers fast enough to sidestep a charge from Lobo. Casino jumps, springboards off the ropes... HURACANRANA! Lobo is dropped on his head. Early pin! One! Two! And Terry Brandon gets Lobo's foot on the ropes? Chris Casino calls foul, but junior referee Henry Andrews seems to have missed it. Casino glares at Brandon and helps Lobo to his feet. Toe kick, hooks his arm around Lobo's head. Snap Supl... no! Lobo's TOO BIG! Casino struggles... STRUGGLES to haul Lobo over, and the Lobo powers out, sending Casino over his shoulder! Lobo drops an elbow on Casino before he can recover. Pin! One! Two! And now Terry Brandon gets CASINO'S foot on the ropes! BILL HEWSON: What madness! Can either man win with Brandon cheating for them both!? Lobo doesn't seem too phased. He yanks Chris Casino to his feet, and then twists him around... yes, it's Lobo's patented ABDOMINAL STRETCH! Chris Casino bites his lip and flails for the ropes, but Lobo just pulls back on the hold, and then elbows Casino in the ribs. Chris Casino desperately tries to hold on, and the crowd starts chanting "TAP! TAP! TAP!" Brandon, outside the ring, pushes the ropes to Casino's outstretched hand! Ropebreak! Now Lobo looks and annoyed, and shoots a glare at Brandon who shrugs at ringside. Casino is clutching at his ribs, trying to catch his breath, and Lobo scoops him up from behind... ATOMIC DROP! Casino BOUNCES and catches himself on a turnbuckle... Lobo charges... and hits a big splash in the corner! Casino hangs there for a second... then falls backwards with a thud. Lobo with the pin! One! Two! Thrkickout! Casino JUST hangs on. JACK JONES: Come on Brandon, help the champ out! Still on the offensive, Lobo hauls Chris Casino to his feet. Sets him up with the pump-handle! Hauls Casino up! WAIT FOR IT! No!? Casino elbows Lobo right in the face! The large man looks dazed, Casino twists... DDT! Lobo is planted in the ring, and Casino kips up. The crowd BOOS as Casino sneers, and flicks a few stray strands of hair aside, then he glances as a corner and motions that he's going up! Casino hops onto the corner turnbuckle! CASH OUUUUNO! Brandon PUSHES Casino from the corner early. LoboÕs on his feet! He catches Casino in mid air by the neck... CHOKESLAM! And Terry Brandon PULLS Chris Casino out of the ring! Lobo can't make a pin and shouts down at Brandon, who again, shrugs. BILL HEWSON: He won't let either man WIN. This match will go to the time limit at this rate! Casino angrily shoves Brandon aside, and climbs back into the ring. Lobo rushes him, but Casino catches him, and whips him into... junior referee Henry Andrews! But no! The young ref panics and dives into a far corner, covering up in terror! JACK JONES: You can't call a match with your head in the sand! Lobo turns into a stiff Superkick! He reels, and goes to topple, but Casino catches him... wait! Lobo shoves him away! TERRY BRANDON IS IN THE RING! He lunges towards Chris Casino, briefcase primed! CASINO DUCKS! LOBO GETS LEVELED! HOLY HELL! Terry Bandon looks horrified, and Andrews glances up at the sound of Lobo toppling to the mat! Casino leaps onto Lobo! One! Two! Three! FRANK WARBURTON: Here is your winner... CHRIS CASIIIINOOOO! BILL HEWSON: Not like this! Chris Casino glares down at the unconscious Lobo and shouts something like "You should have taken the money, you dumb Canadian bastard!" Terry Brandon hits the ring, glancing with momentary concern at the fallen Lobo, then lifts Chris Casino's arm in triumph. The crowd boos and jeers as Casino shouts at them that he's keeping his cup and his money, and Terry Brandon just smiles a... very hard to read smile. JACK JONES: The better man won, Bill Hewson, that's all that matters. BILL HEWSON: But what's going through Terry Brandon's mind, I wonder? Is he happy about this, or what? We have to cut to commercial!
MANIAC: What do you mean, NO ACCESS? GUARD: I mean, sir, that YOUR organization wants tighter control over its shows. That means unless you're scheduled to perform tonight, there's no backstage access. I'm sorry. MANIAC: Listen to me. Do you know who I am? GUARD: Yes, sir, I do. MANIAC: I'm MANIAC. I have bled, sweat and won matches wherever there's been wrestling on this Earth. GUARD: I understand, sir-- MANIAC: And there's a mealy little son-of-a-BITCH I'm going to get my hands on. GUARD: Well, that's the problem, Sir. That's EXACTLY the type of incident we're trying to AVOID-- MANIAC: I don't think you understand me. I'm getting backstage and I'm settling a score. GUARD: Sir, I think you should know that I'm studying Social Psychology at the moment. MANIAC: I don't care. GUARD: We've simulated dozens of incidents like this in-class, sir. And all of the data suggests that physical confrontations do little or nothing to resolve conflict. MANIAC: In English? GUARD: Me stopping you from going backstage is the best thing I can do for you, sir. I think that once you take the time to COOL DOWN you'll find a non-violent way to solve your problem. MANIAC: Have you got your degree? GUARD: No, sir. Third year. MANIAC: Well, I've been doing this for ELEVEN years. Kick! Wham! HEADHUNTER! MANIAC: (To the dropped guard.) And I've NEVER found a problem that CAN'T be solved with violence. He hops over him and runs down the hall. MANIAC: Now come OUT, you little COWARD! Cut back to the Announcer's table and all of the inherent RINGSIDE ACTION! BILL HEWSON: Welcome back, ladies and gentlemen, the crowd is still PUMPED from the Canada Cup Quarterfinal. JACK JONES: And they SHOULD be. Chris Casino is the finest wrestler in his generation and he'll PROVE IT going all the way in the Canada Cup tournament. I think this tournament is DONE and OVER WITH. BILL HEWSON: Yeah, well, I think YOU should be sold as a hallucinogen. Ladies and gentlemen . . . are you READY for FIRST BLOOD!? And it's GOOD TIMES as Tupac Shakur makes it safe to be a thug again. The crowd hollers for NAPW's greatest Mexican superstar, TECHNIQUE, strutting out with a baseball bat and an easy swagger. JACK JONES: I don't know WHAT this filthy gangster's got to be happy about. He's OH for TWO against his opponent, and he's lost by pinfall AND submission. Now he gets to lose a THIRD way and embarrass hmself! BILL HEWSON: But Technique's kept the score even with lots of MORAL victories over Thunder, interfering in his matches and making his life Hell! JACK JONES: No kidding. Here. I want to give you this. Jones mimes giving Hewson something. BILL HEWSON: ...what is it? JACK JONES: It's a MORAL dollar. Go buy yourself a MORAL cup of coffee. As Technique runs the ropes, it's Tupac OUT and Trocadero IN. Flanked by the giant Tempest and his manager Tex, who, as always, is bundled up like he's gonna catch SARS--it's Thunder! And he's got a steel folding chair with the word "EVIL" stencilled on it. BILL HEWSON: Hmm. I wonder if Storm's NUMBERS game will prove to be a disadvantage to Technique in this match. JACK JONES: I think so. Three's higher than Technique can count. BILL HEWSON: Will you STOP? Thunder snickers at all of the NAPW fans chanting that he sucks, and climbs into the ring to scoff at Technique. Let's hear it from Frank! FRANK WARBURTON: The following contest is a FIRST! BLOOD! MATCH! where the object is to make your opponent bleed first with NNNNOOOO holds barred! Introducing to my left, from AAAAAAA-TOWN, weighing in at two-hundred pounds, HEEEEERE'S TECHNIQUE! And to my right, accompanied by Storm--Tempest and Tex--and representing Parts Unknown, weighing in at two-hundred pounds, THUUUUUNDER! The bell rings and Frank BEATS IT to safety. Technique keeps his eye on Thunder, licks his lips, and gives a few practice swings. Thunder keeps looking at him with a quizzical look, not really looking like he's going to pounce-WAIT A MINUTE! TEX just RAN IN with another CHAIR! Technique winds up and smashes the chair OVERHAND with the bat knocking the chair into Tex's face. Tex squeals like a GIRL and falls--TEMPEST IN THE RING! Technique turns around and EATS BOOT! A HUGE BOOT from the three-hundred pound giant! BILL HEWSON: No! Come ON! Tell me this is a joke! JACK JONES: EVERYTHING'S legal in this kind of match, partner! The referee's just there to check for blood! BILL HEWSON: Yeah, but... COME ON! Thunder unfolds his chair in his corner and has a seat. Meanwhile, Tempest picks the dazed Technique up, hoists him up on his shoulder and RUNS at the turnbuckle, roaring--SNAKE EYES! Technique's face rebounds off of the turnbuckle pad, and he backs up into a waiting Tempest--OH NO. He's hooked the neck and the waist and JUMPS--HALF-NELSON DRIVER! Technique is smeared on the mat like spit on a windshield! Thunder whistles and applauds his tag team partner, and the crowd just BOOS this coward. Tempest hoists Technique up like a rag doll and slaps on a full nelson hold--and now TEX, seemingly suffering from a bleeding lip, is grabbing his ankles! Thunder stands, folds up his chair, and walks over to Technique-- JACK JONES: What's the crowd chanting? BILL HEWSON: Something you find on a FARM, and I'm right WITH them! --Tex winds up the chair, POW! Straight into defenseless Technique's face! Technique looks--his NOSE is BROKEN! Ring the BELL! FRANK WARBURTON: Here is YOUR winner--THUUUUNDER! BILL HEWSON: What was he thinking--that FRAUD! JACK JONES: Simmer down, Hewson. He's done NOTHING illegal. BILL HEWSON: This was a damn MUGGING and you KNOW IT--oh, NOW what!? The crowd's getting angrier as Tempest hoists the badly beaten Technique up and over his head, Gorilla Pressing the young Superstar over his head--Thunder's on the top turnbuckle, and leaps--LEG-DROP! Knocking Technique down all the way down! The crowd's drink cups are now LITTERING the ring as Thunder clings to Tempest, faking exhaustion! Tex, pinching his cut lip, raises Thunder's hand in victory before all three men decide to beat it to safety. JACK JONES: Sorry, folks, Hewson's beating his head against the desk. We're going to commercial here, but after we clean the ring up, it's MINSTREL and EVAN CARTWRIGHT for the Provincial Title. Don't go away!
SERGEANT: I'm sorry, but your friend is a suspect in a crime. Unless you can pay the five thousand-dollar bail... MIKE JOHNSTON: We don't have that kind of money! SERGEANT: Then there's nothing I can do. Sorry. CAMERON SCOTT: Mike... We need to boot back to the gym, or WE won't be there for the match either. MIKE JOHNSTON: We can't just leave Static in prison. TIFFANY MACINTRYE: Guys. Listen. You go to the gym. I'll be there in a few minutes. CAMERON SCOTT: You have a plan? MIKE JOHNSTON: Are you going to use your feminine wiles to woo the sergeant? TIFFANY MACINTYRE: Uh, no, that's not quite what I had in mind. But hurry up! Move! Cam and Mike beat a hasty exit. Tiffany leans against the counter. TIFFANY MACINTYRE: May I use your phone please? SERGEANT: Sure. The Sergeant hands Tiffany the phone, and she dials "0" TIFFANY MACINTYRE: Operator? I'd like to place a long distance callÉ And we now join Hewson and Jones back at ringside. BILL HEWSON: Well, whatever's going on THERE... JACK JONES: Will somebody STOP cutting away from the ring? It's TOO MUCH DRAMA, NOT ENOUGH ACTION. Who's in charge this week, D!? Just put on a MATCH and I'll COMMENTATE. GOD! FINCH! MAN ALONE! The Provincial Title contest is upon us as MINSTREL makes his way to the ring! BILL HEWSON: Minstrel, STILL undefeated in NAPW competition! His Provincial Title reign is the longest in all of NAPW's history. JACK JONES: And I would personally say that that reign is coming to a close here tonight. Evan Cartwright is one of NAPW's finest young talents, and with MY GOOD FRIEND Terry Brandon at his side, is sure to come out of this with some gold. Besides... what the hell is Minstrel doing? Minstrel's getting booed on his way to the ring, with his belt tied around his waist, despite that he's... breakdancing? Yes indeed, Minstrel can bust a move with the best of them. Woo, Darkhammers! Minstel glides into the ring, takes off his belt, and starts... Lindy Hopping with it? Rioght. Finch fades out to the sounds of the Pet Shop Boys. Evan Cartwright strides out, towel on head, walking with determination and authority. Terry Brandon is struggling to keep pace and still shout to the crowd about Cartwright's glory. Still looking good, though! JACK JONES: Watching Cartwright slide into that ring with sheer confidence, taking off that towel and getting a good look into his eyes, I'd have to say that my prediction's looking solid right now. Minstrel won't even give the belt to referee Dick Kiebiech! BILL HEWSON: Regardless if your prediction, Terry Brandon is getting a VENOMOUS response from this crowd tonight! Seems that they're not fans of what he did to Lobo earlier! FRANK WARBURTON: The following contest is for the NAPW Provincial Championship and is set for ONE FALL! Introducing first, the challenger. He wears blue trunks, and is accompanied to the ring by the LEGENDARY Terry Brandon! Weighing in at just over two-hundred and twenty-two pounds, originally from CAIRO, ILLINOIIIS!--EVAN! CARTWRIGHT! Next, the CHAMPION! He wears black tights, and is the master of the KILLING JOKE! Weighing in at two-hundred twenty-ONE pounds, from PARTS UNKNOWN--MINSTREL! Senior referee Dick Kiebiech finally tears the belt away from Minstrel, who's quite put off by the idea that he can't dance any more. Terry Brandon, meanwhile, is pumping up the focused Cartwright, and slinks back to the outside after getting a stern look from Kiebiech. Ding ding ding, collar-and-elbow, we begin. Cartwright with a slight weight advantage and thus power advantage, has Minstrel in a head lock. Minstrel tosses Cartwright into the ropes, Cartwright comes back with a Japanese arm drag. Minstrel back up, another arm drag. Minstrel up again, dropkick. Minstrel up AGAIN, Cartwright slaps on a flipping armbar! Near the ropes now, and with Kiebiech occupied, seeing if Minstrel's tapping, Terry Brandon's grabbing Cartwright's feet, helping his stable-mate keep leverage! BILL HEWSON: ...did Kiebiech see that? He saw it! He's furious! JACK JONES: Terry Brandon is a LEGEND in this business, Dick had better treat him with respect! BILL HEWSON: Respect nothin', Kiebiech isn't having this on his watch! Brandon is OUTTA here! Big pop for that one! Cartwright's broken the hold and is pleading Brandon's case with Kiebiech, to no avail. Brandon takes his sweet time leaving the ringside area, furious with the fans who're taunting him on the way out. Minstrel getting up, now HE'S taunting Terry Brandon, galloping around the ring and waving. The fans are laughing it up as Cartwright turns around to catch a spinning heel kick square in the jaw. Minstrel up in a flash, jumps off the middle rope with a dropkick to the rising Evan Cartwright. Back up again, into the corner this time, middle rope... MISSILE DROPKICK! Minstrel's kicks taking a toll on Cartwright's chest here, he's firmly in control. Minstrel waiting for Cartwright to get back up now, looks like he's screaming at him... KICKWHAM INVERTEDDDT! Minstrel nailed him with that one! Looking to put this away, he scales the turnbuckle again. Reaching the top rope, now, and he's... bowing? Looks like he just performed a Broadway play, but once again, Dick Kiebiech has had enough antics for one night! He's waving for Minstrel to cut it out... KILLING JOKE out of nowhere! BILL HEWSON: HOLY--! That did not go as planned! As Cartwright scooted out of the way, Minstrel dove headfirst towards Kiebiech's skull, and they're all out! JACK JONES: Awkward moment here, Hewson, but I can't blame Kiebiech for that error. Minstrel's been crazy-ape-insane since the match started, and Kiebiech's dealt with enough jokers tonight! BILL HEWSON: Like Terry Brandon? JACK JONES: You're right, like Terry---HEY! Regardless, Kiebiech is out COLD! Kiebiech lying face-first on the mat, his face spewing blood that stains the ring floor. Minstrel and Cartwright back up, regaining their stamina. Minstrel's shoulder looking terrible now as he notices the blood staining his mask and hands... and FLIPS OUT. Minstrel now, screaming and crying, running around the ring, LOW BLOWS Cartwright! No ref, is it no holds barred from here on out... ? Minstrel slaps on a camel clutch/choke maneuver, and CartwrightÕs clutching the ropes, but no break! Minstrel's laughing! JACK JONES: Is that MANIAC? BILL HEWSON: Indeed it is! Maniac at ringside, he's pulled Dick Kiebiech from the ringÉ tearing off his shirt? JACK JONES: Could we see some Brokeback Mountain action here tonight?! BILL HEWSON: That's... Maniac now with Kiebiech's shirt, he's putting it on! Do we have a makeshift referee for this match? JACK JONES: Maniac's done it all in the wrestling world, from Berlin to Belize, but I don't think he's ever refereed a contest! But keep in mind, he's the most unpredictable SOB in the game! And Minstrel is NONE TOO PLEASED. His laughter quickly turns into a low, guttural groan, but his body language indicates that he'll just go on with the match. CARTWRIGHT ROLLUP! Only two! Maniac may not be a Minstrel fan, but he's intent on calling this one down the middle! Both men up, Minstrel tosses Cartwright off the ropes, Minstrel misses a clothesline, SAMBO! Minstrel's shoulder in a world of hurt! Minstrel rises again... asai dropkick! Cartwright in position now! He's setting up for it... WHEELBARROW SUPLEX! And damn the torpedoes, hereÕs the pin --- leg is hooked --- ONE! TWO! THHHREEEEE! Cartwright got it! FRANK WARBURTON: Your winner... and NEEEEW NAPW PROVINCIAL CHAMPIONÉ. EVAN! CARTWRIIIIGHT! BILL HEWSON: ONE, TWO, THREE! Cartwright got it! We've got a new Provincial Champion, and Maniac called it right down the middle! Maniac triumphantly raises the arm of the new champ, who won it WITHOUT Brandon or Casino! Cartwright grinning from ear to ear, despite the light boos, Maniac grinning wildly at Minstrel, still just rising! The arms drop now, as Maniac sets Minstrel up... BILL HEWSON: MANIAC---HEADHUNTER on Minstrel! The former champ is---Headhunter on CARTWRIGHT! Maniac RIPS off his ref shirt! The fans are going nuts! And we need a medical team out here for Dick Kiebach, he's wearing the mask at this point. Fade to commercial as Maniac hits the turnbuckles to the tune of "Turn the Page," and EMTs come to wheel Dick Kiebiech from the ring.
FRANK WARBURTON: The following match is a handicap tag attraction, scheduled for one fall, with a twenty minute time limit. Introducing first, at a combined weight of six-hundred and fifty-one pounds... Illusion, Tommy Deathrow, and "Sick" Billy Kryenik, they are The Doomriders!!! Making their way into the ring are their opponents, accompanied to the ring by Tiffany MacIntyre, at a combined weight of four-hundred and seventy pounds, Michael K. Johnston and Cameron Scott, they are Alberta Canada's very own... THE DUDES!!! Scott and Johnston slingshot their way into the ring as Deathrow and Sick Billy immediately assault them with fist and boot. Referee Henry Andrews looks ready to soil himself and call the match, but to his credit, he toughs it out and attempts to administer order. He is helped by Tommy Deathrow, who clotheslines himself and Scott over the top rope. They tumble to the outside and crash into the guardrail as Sick Billy is busy working over Johnston in the ring. BILL HEWSON: This is already turning into absolute chaos! JACK JONES: Thank you, Professor Einstein. However, I like the Billy Kryenik's strategy here of attacking the smaller man and weaker link of The Dudes, Mike Johnston. Sick Billy whips Johnston into the ropes and executes a tilt-a-whirl backbreaker, cracking Mike's spine across his knee. Sick Billy lives up to his namesake by punishing his opponent with elbows to the sternum and throat, causing the ref to admonish him. Sick Billy gives a twisted laugh and sets Johnston up for a suplex. Mike counters with a block and wraps Billy up in a small package. By now, Tommy Deathrow has slid back into the ring and kicks Johnston in the head, effectively ending the pin. Deathrow goes to his corner and joins the rather stoic Illusion as Sick Billy pummels Johnston before dragging him to his corner and tagging Deathrow back in. Tommy D nails Mike in his exposed ribs before executing a gordbuster. Deathrow covers, but Johnston shows some moxy by kicking out at 2. BILL HEWSON: Doomriders dominating early on... JACK JONES: Oh just shut up, Bill. We all know who will win this thing, and it sure as heck ain't no... Dudes. Deathrow sets up for an early victory with the Deathrow Driver, but Johnston slips underneath him and makes the hot tag to his partner, now waiting for him on the apron. Cam Scott comes in all fired up and lays into Tommy Deathrow with rights and lefts followed by knife-edged chops ala Chris Benoit. Scott whips Deathrow into the ropes and connects with a Lou Thesz Press. He hammers Tommy's dome until Sick Billy tries to cut him off. Scott tackles Sick Billy with a strong lariat and Mike Johnston dropkicks Illusion just as she is jumping into the ring. The ref hustles Mike back into his corner as Scott is nailed with a low blow by Deathrow. Tommy drops him with inverted DDT and covers. Andrews is late but makes a two count before Cam kicks out. Deathrow tags in Sick Billy while holding ScottÕs arms back. Sick Billy stikes him hard in the ribs with a right hook before whipping him into the corner and executing his Kiss of Babylon Superkick to the jaw. BILL HEWSON: Good night, Irene! JACK JONES: I knew I should have bet two dimes and a nickel on this match with my bookie. BILL HEWSON: Huh? JACK JONES: Nevermind that, get ready to declare The Doomriders the rightful winners. Sick Billy makes the cover, but Cam amazingly powers out at 2. Sick Billy charges, but Cam cuts him off with his Linebacker Tackle. Cam makes the tag to his partner just as Sick Billy manages to tag in Illusion. The two lightweights collide in the center and Illusion shows just how scrappy she is. She shrugs Mike off and nails him with a Yakuza kick before stopping to threaten Tiffany outside the ring. BILL HEWSON: Illusion shouldn't be worrying about Tiffany, she should be working to put Johnston away. JACK JONES: For once, I agree with you. Finish it, sweetheart! Illusion grabs Mike by the head and delivers a beautiful wind-up reverse DDT. She covers, but Mike manages to kick out at 2. Tiffany and Cam cheer him on as Illusion pulls him to her corner and tags in Sick Billy. Quickly, Illusion jumps outside and chases Tiffany, all in an effort to distract the ref and Cam Scott. Sick Billy lifts Mike onto his shoulders as Tommy Deathrow climbs to the top. JACK JONES: This is itÉ Thrones and Dominions! It will all be over soon. BILL HEWSON: I wouldnÕt be so sure about that, I'm getting word backstage that someone has returned. JACK JONES: What the...? Static, apparently out of custody now, has bolted to the arena and is now making a bee-line for the ring. Tommy is set to fly when Static reaches them and shoves Deathrow off the top, causing him to crash into the guardrail. The ref turns just in time for Static to take his spot on the apron next to Cam. Sick Billy tries to fall backward for an Electric Chair Drop, but Mike Johnston pummels him in the face and then flips him for real with a hurrancanra. Mike tags in Static, who is the proverbial house afire. He clotheslines Sick Billy to the mat more than once before slamming into Tommy and sending him sailing off the apron once again. Static snapmares Illusion into the ring and is prepared to suplex her when Sick Billy nails him in the knee with a chop block. Illusion takes advantage by going for her Dark Chivalry, but Static back drops her over the top rope. Sick Billy tumbles to the outside with Static and both men are really laying into one another. Meanwhile, a woozy Tommy Deathrow slides into the ring and is cut off by Mike Johnston hitting the White Russian. He is quickly followed by the Touchdown from Cam Scott off the top! Scott covers and Andrews is in position for the three count. FRANK WARBURTON: Here are your winners, The Dudes and Static! JACK JONES: NO! BILL HEWSON: Guess you'll be trying to avoid your bookie from now on. Outside the ring, Sick Billy and Illusion slam Static into the ringpost before Illusion sprays red mist into the face of Tiffany MacIntyre. She screams in agony as The Dudes rush to her aid. Sick Billy helps Deathrow out of the ring and is quickly followed by his wife, who is smiling crimson. The Dudes help flush out TiffanyÕs eyes and revive Static as The Doomriders exit, no doubt wanting revenge already. BILL HEWSON: I doubt this one is over between them, not by a long shot. JACK JONES: Thank you again, Captain Obvious. BILL HEWSON: Maybe now you'll think twice about being a degenerate gambler. JACK JONES: So what if I like to bet on the ponies once in awhile, screw you for judging me, Hewson! BILL HEWSON: Blah blah blah. Folks, we've got the main event coming up, it's RAVAGER versus D! with the NAPW Title at stake! You've GOT to be here for it! JACK JONES: So if you've got a doctor's appointment, tell him you're DEAD!
A violin. Then another. Suddenly, it's a chorus of violins, all at once, very sad, very serious, very intense. And despite their dirge... the people are CHEERING. Electric strings soon follow, followed by a video package of a man, garbed in black with a look that's all business, giving us a highlight reel of every devestating move he's ever hit his opponents with. And when both the music and the crowd are at fever pitch, THAT'S when he appears. RAVAGER. BILL HEWSON: Welcome back, NAPW fans! We've waited all night for it, but it's FINALLY happening! Ravager is getting his TITLE SHOT TONIGHT! JACK JONES: And whether or not you're one of the hundreds of Ravager fans here live or the growing number of Ravager fans on the internet, the ALL-BUSINESS ASS-KICKER is here for the NAPW'S highest honour, and nobody tell him he's leaving without it! Following deep orange lights to the ring, Ravager wastes no time climbing in, testing the rope strength with his hand... and keeping his eyes locked on the entrance. BILL HEWSON: But as popular as Ravager might be on the Web, EDMONTON'S NAPW fans back only ONE Superstar even more... and he HAPPENS to be the NAPW Champion! JACK JONES: I don't even LIKE D!-- BILL HEWSON: Duh. JACK JONES: --but the way that this crowd comes unglued when he's around, you've gotta know that he sees Ravager as a threat to not only his Title, but his POPULARITY, too. And even I know when to admit it when two fan-favourites are pitted against each other, you get CHEMISTRY! Now speaking of D!, where d'you suppose-- "RIIIIIIGHT.... BEFOORE YOUR EYES!!!" With rip-roaring punk music from The Snitches, D! flies out from behind the curtain like a bat out of Hell. He's got the NAPW Title around his waist, he's got his mouth running a mile a minute, and he's got HIGH FIVES for everybody within reach. JACK JONES: Showboat! Get into the ring! BILL HEWSON: The FANS like it, so SIMMER DOWN! Ravager smirks at the referee with an "go figure" look. D! finds his way to ringside, makes eye contact with Ravager, pats his belt's face, and SLIDES into the ring. The third most popular man in the ring, by the way, is Frank Warburton. FRANK WARBURTON: Ladies and Gentlemen, it is my esteemed honour to bring to you THE MAIN EVENT! This contest is scheduled for ONE FALL, and it is for the NAPW Championship! Introducing first, the Number One Contender, from Brooklyn, New York, weighing in at TWO hundred, TEN pounds... RRRRRAAAAAAAVAGEEERRRR! And his opponent... he is the reigning NAPW Champion, from right here in EDMONTON! ALBERTA! CANADA! Weighing in at TWO hundred, TEN pounds, he is the Unorthodox Old Schooler, One Letter, Said REAL Loud--D!! The bell rings for the match to start, but D! and Ravager aren't locking up. They just stand face to face, in the middle of the ring, staring each other down. The crowdÕs pretty split, a lot cheering for the NAPW champ, while a strong cheer for the former Provincial champion is also going up. JACK JONES: What are they doing? Fight, you jackasses! BILL HEWSON: Jack, they're simply sizing each other up. Neither one is showing any fear of the other! It's only a matter of time befo- oh. The two men, D! and Ravager, trading blows in the ring! They're just furiously punching each other back and forth, back and forth. D! swings! Ravager ducks, and whirls behind the champ! He's locked D! up from behind, goes for a belly to back suplex, but D! manages to catch the challenger's foot. A blocked suplex by D! D! falls backwards onto Ravager, breaking the hold. And the champ takes the leg of Ravager, and a single-leg crab? He's going for the Pleasant Cycling, folks! But Ravager gets to the ropes before D! manages to apply any pressure onto the leg. D! lets go of the leg and steps back. Ravager smiles at D!, tapping his temple, and the crowd lets out some applause for the first series of moves in this match. D! beckons for Ravager to get up. "C'mon! You want a title match? Let's give this crowd the match what they paid to see!" Ravager stands up, and the two men lock up again. D! manages to gain the advantage, and whips Ravager into the ropes. Ravager's running back, D! with the big boot to the face of Ravager! Once Ravager's on the ground, D! takes no chances and drops a HUGE elbow to the face of Ravager! And one more for good measure! He then frames the head of Ravager with his fingers, lines him up, and DOWN with a knee, but NO! Ravager rolls out of the way. Ravager backs into the ropes, and a chop block to D! D!'s writhing on the ground, and now Ravager with a jumping knee to the gut! Ravager rolls D! over, and a Camel Clutch! Ravager cinches in the submission move, wrenching D!'s neck and back. JACK JONES: You see that, Hewson? That's all about setting up for Ravager's Super Brainbuster! BILL HEWSON: I'm aware, thanks. How do you think I got this job? Wait a second, don't answer that. JACK JONES: You know me too well, Hewson. HA! D! is reaching for the ropes, but Ravager's in the middle of the ring. The crowd starts stomping, trying to get momentum. D!'s inching to the ropes, and tries to grab! Not close enough. Grab! SO CLOSE! Inch. Grab! Yes! He's got the ropes, and the ref calls for the break up. Ravager, frustrated with his near-submission, pounds the mat while D! catches a breather. Ravager starts to complain to the referee, but thinks twice about, controlling his anger. He turns back to D! and grabs the champion by the hair. Ravager pulls up the groggy D!, and a DDT! D!'s down on the canvas, and Ravager's taking advantage with a hook of the leg! One! Two! NO! D! kicks out! Ravager's cursing under his breath, and pulls D! up once more. He signals to the audience that it's time to finish this, and the crowd cheers. He grabs for D!'s head, but a kick to the midsection breaks up his Brainbuster attempt! And D! with another kick to the gut! And another! D! picks up steam with his kicks, as the majority of the audience starts singing the can-can! Ravager's leaning on the ropes after many a kick! And D!'s back with a vengeance! Irish whip to the other side! And a clothesline from the champ! Quick pin! One, tw-NO! Ravager's not going down that easily. BILL HEWSON: Think of how long this match has been building up for. Ever since New Alberta Pro started, these two men have had one hell of an uneasy relationship. JACK JONES: I'd say it's love/hate, but these two have NEVER shown love to each other. It's more a grudging respect at times. D! stands over Ravager, twirls his arm in the air, and takes the leg of Ravager! PLEASANT CYCLING! And Ravager is yelling in pain! "TAP!" yells D! "TAP!" But Ravager's just shaking his head. This man is not going to tap! But as the seconds in the hold tick by, Ravager is fading! Even the chant from the fans of "Ravager! Ravager!" isn't helping. The ref raises the hand of Ravager, and it drops. Raises it again? Drops! The hand is raised one more time, and dro- NO! Ravager's got some life to him! Ravager's free leg is kicking D! in the head! And D! lets go of Ravager's leg! Ravager uses the ropes to get up to a standing position, but that leg is not looking good. D! grabs for Ravager, but Ravager twists behind him, and cinches in a sleeper hold! D! is fighting, he's not going to fall asleep! Ravager doesn't mind, since he drives D! to the ground with a Nyquil Driver! HE JUST USED D!'S OWN MOVE AGAINST HIM! Covers for the pin! One, two, no! The champ kicks out again! Ravager takes a hold of the groggy D!, and signals once more for his Super Brainbuster! He picks up D!, holds him over his head, but his knee is too weak from the single-leg crab that D! had applied! He buckles, and D! falls on top of him! The ref counts! One! Two! Thr-NOOOO! Ravager kicks out! Ravager kicks out! D! picks up his opponent, but Ravager manages to kick D! in the gut! You can see how much frustration is on the challenger's face, as he picks D! up one more time! He's got D! over his head, and Ravager takes D! to the turnbuckle. This is it, the Super Brainbuster! The crowd's on their feet! We're going to see a new champion here tonight! Wait? What's this? D! turns it into an armbar takedown, sending Ravager flying into the other corner! D!'s on his feet, runs at full tilt! Stinger Splash! Ravager's dizzy, and turns around into a BEAT-O-BARRAGE! The champ is just letting fly with kicks and punches into the torso of Ravager! The challenger staggers, he's on one knee...and that's all D! needs to unleash A DAMNED SHINING WIZARD RIGHT TO THE FACE! Ravager drops to the floor, D! covers, hooking the leg almost to the point where he's pulling Ravager on top of him! The ref counts! THE CROWD CHANTS ALONG! ONE! TWO! ANNNNNNND....THREE! FRANK WARBURTON: HERE IS YOUR WINNER... AND STILL NAPW CHAMPION... DEEEEEEEEE!
D! takes his title, and stands over the woozy Ravager with a mic in his hand. "Hey, Ravager! Is this a meaningful match? Did you just suffer a meaningful loss?" Ravager just CLOCKS the still-champ with a punch to the face! D! goes down, and Ravager rolls on top of him, and the fists go a-flyin'! D! isnÕt one to back down from a fistfight, though, and they're just letting them fly! The ref calls for more support as he tries to keep these two apart! Wrestlers are running out of the back! The Moose, Wayne Wright, the Dudes! Here comes Travelli and Static, Khaos running right after them! A good half of the locker room is out here trying to keep the two combatants apart! As the cameras start to fade out, one pulls in on Ravager, face contorted in rage. "This isn't the end of this, champ!"
|