MONDAY. NIGHT. FIGHTS02/27/2006
BILL HEWSON: Those eyes... I don't think there's anything going on behind them. JACK JONES: Kinda reminds me of the look in my wife's eyes when...never mind. Before Jack "Attack" can reply, Quincy Punx plays over the speakers, bringing Krusty Kid Paul to the ring. JACK JONES: Speaking of nothing going on, is this guy sober enough to wrestle? BILL HEWSON: Both men were on the winning teams for their first matches. This is the first singles match for them... and they're not even waiting for the bell! Indeed, Krusty Kid Paul starts throwing all his offense at Stein, laying in with a series of stiff punches. As Dr. Morgoth yells at referee Henry Andrews, who is already in over his head. The bell sounds as Paul whips Stein into the corner turnbuckle, then charges in with a clothesline. Stein, however, remains standing. JACK JONES: Did you see that? Stein just took a vicious clothesline, and he just stares at his opponent. Maybe if Krusty the Clown would train in the gym rather than alleys... BILL HEWSON: Will you stop! Krusty Kid Paul only hesitates for a moment, as he starts driving his knee into Steins midsection. Stein still shows little reaction. Paul shrugs his shoulders, then plants his foot in Stein's stomach, then goes for a gut wrench suplex. With surprising strength, Stein powers out. He flips Paul over, crashing his opponent to the mat. Paul tries to get to his feet, but is chopped to the throat, sending him to one knee. Stein applies a Tongan Death Grip, slowing the match down to his pace. BILL HEWSON: Stein stopping Krusty Kid Paul's momentum dead. JACK JONES: Fitting choice of words there, Hewson. As Dr. Morgoth shouts from ringside, Stein puts more pressure on Paul's throat. Paul looks like he's starting to fade, but the fans start to cheer him on. JACK JONES: Why are the fans cheering this guy on? He's one drunken fight away from permanent residence in the Remand Center. BILL HEWSON: Referee Andrew is checking to see if Krusty Kid Paul is still conscious. He's lifting the arm... Paul's arm drops. BILL HEWSON: That's one! Paul's arm drops again. BILL HEWSON: Two! JACK JONES: One more time and it's over! Andrews lifts the arm for the third time. And it drops down a third ti - no! Paul is starting to feed off the fan support, as he fights to one knee. He starts delivering elbows to Stein's midsection, until finally, he makes his way to his feet! With a new surge of strength, he grabs Stein and whips him into the ropes! And Paul catches Stein with a big boot! Stein goes down! Paul starts dropping elbows onto the monster, trying to make sure he stays there! And a cover! One! Two! Kick out! Paul doesn't waste a second. He pulls Stein up and whips into the rope one more time. This time he catches him for a spinebuster - no wait!... BILL HEWSON: Stein has caught Paul with a choke hold! Paul is forced to drop Stein, who lands on his feet. But Stein keeps his grip, and tosses Paul across into the turnbuckle! JACK JONES: Interesting way to counter a spinebuster, huh Hewson? BILL HEWSON: Unbelievable power from Stein! Indeed. Stein lumbers his way to the corner, and picks up Krusty Kid Paul for a gorilla press slam! Paul is slammed hard to the mat. And now Dr. Morgoth is yelling at Stein to go for the Vitiator! Stein raises his hand, ready to apply the deadly claw to Krusty Kid Paul! JACK JONES: If he gets this, it's over! If he got it. Krusty Kid Paul? Has other ideas. Paul rolls Stein up for a small package. It only gets one, but Krusty Kid Paul is quick to his feet. Stein... is as fast as Stein gets, but Paul manages to slap on a German suplex! BILL HEWSON: A beautiful German suplex! And Paul floats over into an elbow drop! Right on Stein's face! Krusty Kid Paul Hooks the leg, as the ref counts... One, Two Three! FRANK WARBURTON: The winner of the match via pinfall... KRUSTY KID PAUL! BILL HEWSON: And Krusty Kid Paul has his first singles victory here in NAPW! But it took all he had to beat the monster Stein. As Krusty Kid Paul celebrates with the fans (because indie wrestling fans love their drunken punks!), Dr. Morgoth is yelling at referee Henry Andrews. JACK JONES: Check out Morgoth giving Andrews what-for! I mean, who could blame him? That was a poorly officiated affair if I ever saw one! BILL HEWSON: What are you talking about? Krusty Kid Paul won fair and squ- what the Hell is Stein doing? Stein has applied the Vitiator to Andrews! Dr. Morgoth shouts encouragement as the rookie official goes limp. Security rushes the ring, but Stein has already released the hold. Dr. Morgoth leads his charge away from the ring as Henry Andrew is tended to. BILL HEWSON: What the Hell were they trying to prove? The man's just a referee! And not a very good one! JACK JONES: They're sending a message, Bill Hewson, and the message is clear: Don't mess with Stein! And that leads to commercial.
Riiiight...before...my...EYES! Cue the Snitches, and cue the former NAPW champion D!. He comes to a fairly mixed reaction. It doesn't stun him quite like it did last week, as the man nods and looks over the crowd. He jogs to the ring and rolls in, asking for a microphone. The crowd seems to have a bit less hate-on for him then they did last week. JACK JONES: Color me surprised, Bill Hewson. I never thought this guy would show his face in the NAPW again after last week. BILL HEWSON: Last week the fans in the NAPW quite forcefully turned on the man in the ring. I think everybody in the building is curious as to what he's got to say here tonight. D! looks out over the crowd, who certainly do seem curious. He grins sardonically. D!: So tell me, Chris Casino... does THIS look like "vanishing for a few weeks to pout"? Again, a grin, rueful. D! starts off slow, calm. He's clearly done a lot of thinking in the past week. D!The words I have to say to you tonight, to all of you out here, to all of the people in the back, friends... and foes... the words I have to say tonight are NOT the most important words you'll be hearing tonight. Because THOSE words will belong to your NAPW Champion. RAVAGER. The crowd gives a mixed reaction at Ravager. D! suppresses a chuckle. Well, sort of. Kind of. JACK JONES: So what gives here, Hewson? Last week these fans were all over Ravager, and now they're not sure? BILL HEWSON: I don't think the fans appreciate HOW Ravager won the belt, regardless of how much they liked him before that. Perhaps they were fine with Ravager using every edge he could, but what they got instead was Tiffany ditching the beloved Dudes to help Ravager win the belt. He didn't do it on his own, Jack Jones! D! is glaring curiously across the gym at Hewson & Jones, obviously wondering what they're saying about him or the situation on commentary. He goes on. D!: Regardless... REGARDLESS! of who you love, or who you hate, the NAPW Championship has changed hands, and believe me, you've got an opinion about it. There are some of you that are still breathless about it, that are still calling it the GREATEST! MATCH! EVER! and want to see The Unorthodox Old Schooler and the World's Blandest Hitman go at it ONE. MORE. TIME. There are some of you that believe that Ravager crossed the line in winning the title. Pause. D!: And there are some of you... that believe that I crossed the line in defending it. Another pause. D! looks reflective. The crowd is listening. D!: Well... well, far be it for me to tell you that your opinion's wrong. Because I won't do that. You buy your ticket to sit in that seat and cheer or boo whoever you want. You know what? It's true. I DON'T like Ravager very much. I can ADMIT that. Is that fair of me? Maybe. It depends on what your standards are, I guess. If you only look at us by wrestling talent, ethic and intensity, then you'd think we'd be best of friends, wouldn't you? And you know what, maybe, just maybe, that's true. Maybe I choose to focus on the bad blood between us... like him manipulating me. Or trying to kill me. Hell, you know what? Maybe I can just ignore all of that. D! shakes his head, though. D!: And honestly? I just still might not LIKE him. Oh, I hear you, that's not perfect, but to be quite blunt, it's how I feel. So here's the deal: I don't tell YOU how to feel, you don't tell ME how to feel. How's that for fair? 'Cause like me or hate me, I've ALWAYS made a point of standing up for what I believe in and to follow my gut. And you'll always have that right, no matter what, and as long as you exercise that right, well... You'll have MY respect. A smattering of applause for that admission. D!: But for what it's worth, if you're one of those NAPW.ca trolls that loved your hero for brutalizing a woman then called me yelling from my balcony "heelish and inhuman", then do us all a favour, STOP spending money on wrestling and START spending it on therapy. If you guys never cheer for me again I won't feel particularly heart-broken. Now... As far as Ravager goes, he beat me, and there's no taking that back. Sure, he needed intereference and to use the belt as a weapon, but he beat me nonetheless. But unlike my war with Chris Casino, I'm not going mental needing to prove who's the better man, because, well... I beat him CLEAN defending that same title two weeks ago. And THAT'S a win that allows me to feel good about this whole situation, and there ain't NOBODY gonna take it away from me. A pause. D!: So. I've won one over the title, Ravager's won one over the title. One-one. Tied. EVEN. Well, no matter who's your favourite, what do you think the inevitable outcome's gonna be? Smirk. D!: That's right. He ascends the corner turnbuckle. D!: SEE, I'VE ACTIVATED MY INESCAPABLE, WATER-PROOF, IRON-CLAD, SURROUND-SOUND REMATCH CLAUSE FOR MARCH 6TH AND THE NAPW TITLE! Crowd buzzes, giving a mixed reaction for one more match between these two. D! then stops, frowning thoughtfull. D!: And they turned it down anyways. He steps back down. D!: Yes, the rumour is true. Because as good as MY contract was, it turns out the "Put Up or Shut Up" contract is just a LITTLE bit better. And it expressly forbids the losing champion to have a rematch for ANY reason. Which means that my fancy rematch clause... might as well be a campus parking ticket. And because of that, the tie-break match, D! RAVAGER! THREE!... just won't be happening for the forseeable future. D!...starts smiling? D!: Now, as it stands, I've got my own people looking at all of the paperwork, trying to see if they can fight this bullcrap... but they've pretty much acknowledged that we're gonna lose this one. SO! Why am I, a man who lost his title to a cheater, a man screwed out of his rematch, why am I standing in this ring and SMILING? Well, ask yourself, what match would be BETTER than an NAPW Title match? You see... there's this little thing called Sole Survivor happening next month. Some kind of fancy supercard where THIRTY NAPW Superstars are going to file through this ring in an over-the-top-rope elimination rumble. And the WINNER? ... let's just say that the winner wouldn't let PAPERWORK shut him out of anything. The grin gets bigger. A small "D!" chant breaks out. D!: Now THIS piece of news is going to make D! AND Ravager fans VERY happy. Because on March 20th, One Letter, Said REAL Loud is going to be an entrant in Sole Survivor, and he's going to eliminate TWENTY! NINE! OTHER! MEN! to be the first NAPW Superstar to take that honour. Cheshire. D!: And what's more, since I can't use my rematch clause on the title... I'm announcing NOW to the WORLD that I'm going to use it and claim the NUMBER! ONE! ENTRY! And with that, he jumps through the ropes, hands the microphone over, and struts up the aisle with a wide grin on his face. The crowd isn't entirely sure what to do with it all, but one thing's for sure: They aren't booing D! like they did last week. The reaction is mixed, but nowhere near as negative as D! experienced during last week's main event. BILL HEWSON: D! has made his claim to be the number one entrant in the Sole Survivor match in just less than one month! What a blockbuster! JACK JONES: Number ONE? Who's he trying to kid? D! needs to take number thirty, Bill Hewson! BILL HEWSON: I don't think that's D!'s style, Jack Jones. Maybe this is exactly what D! needs to do right now. He needs to get back in the saddle and start competing, and show everybody in the NAPW that he deserves another shot at the title. Folks, we're going to take a break. When we come back, Nightmare meets the monster Caliban in the ring!
BILL HEWSON: I don't know if the ring is going to survive this next match, partner. JACK JONES: I'd be more worried about whether either of the men in it is going to make it through. When you've got forces like Caliban and Nightmare colliding, structural damage is the least of your worries. Nine Inch Nails hits, rocking "The Wretched" and Ringmaster Iago appears from behind the curtains, beckoning with his cane as the crowd tries to jeer him right back to the locker room. Those closest to the curtain fall quiet at the appearance of the monster though, even the most foolish fan not having any desire to intimidate the monster they call Caliban. An inhuman roar tears from his throat and he moves as if to lunge towards the crowd, but a sharp word and a quick gesture from Iago aborts the motion in its infancy. Caliban begins a slow walk towards the ring, following behind Ringmaster Iago, his head shaking slowly from side to side, heavy dreads swaying slowly. He hasn't made it halfway when the fear in the crowd turns suddenly into cheers as Nightmare EXPLODES from the back. At a shout from Iago, Caliban begins to turn around but not in time to stop Nightmare from slamming into him shoulder-first. Nightmare shoves the huge man nearly to the ring before getting ground to a halt by the sheer mass of Caliban. Caliban raises his arms for a double-axe handle, but Nightmare bunches his legs under himself and heaves lifting the mountain off of his feet and turning into a spinebuster on the floor! Nightmare launches himself forward to begin drilling Caliban with rights and lefts, the heavy impact of each blow ringing out across the room. BILL HEWSON: Apparently Nightmare was worried about the ring too, he didn't even let Caliban set foot inside! JACK JONES: We just saw Nightmare lift the monster up off his feet with a spinebuster, and you're still gabbling about the ring? Caliban shoves Nightmare off hard enough to send him into the protective railing and lurches up to his feet. Ringmaster Iago urges him on, but before Caliban can take more than a step towards Nightmare, he is back on his feet and flying at the big man again! Nightmare drives Caliban back with huge forearm shots, pushing him into the railing. Nightmare drives a huge knee into Caliban's stomach, then unloads with a european uppercut that nearly takes the monster over the railing. Nightmare backs up a step, then charges in for the clothesline but eats leather instead when Caliban gets a size seventeen up into his face! Nightmare reels backwards, hands on his face until he bumps the railing opposite his opponent. Caliban takes this chance to rush, and DRILLS Nightmare with the Cactus Clothesline, sending him out into the crowd instead of out of the ring! The crowd parts quickly as Caliban steps over the railing and bends down to get his hands around the throat of Nightmare. Caliban drags Nightmare back to his feet, but Nightmare breaks the grip with a quick upwards swing of both arms. Nightmare hammers Caliban with two heavy punches, then grabs him by the dreads and slams the painted white leather mask down onto steel railing! Nightmare hooks both of the stunned mountain's arms and slams him down to the concrete with a double-arm DDT! Nightmare rolls Caliban right over and drives an elbow into the side of his head, straddling the huge man's chest and laying into him with brutal rights and lefts. Nightmare drops both hands to Caliban's throat and begins to drag him back up to his feet. The crowd is absolutely in awe of this manÕs strength, how he is manhandling the monster! It looks like he might be going for The Dreamcatcher... but suddenly a line of black drops over his throat and jerks back hard. Ringmaster Iago is choking out Nightmare with his cane, both arms locked around it to hold it tight over his windpipe! Caliban stumbles backwards, falling to one knee as his manager tries to put and end to Nightmare himself. Nightmare struggles for air, thrashing his arms for a moment, lost in sheer surprise. Then his hands find the cane and jerk it away from Iago like he was taking candy from a baby. Nightmare spins around with fury in his eyes and raises the cane overhead... but gets crushed from behind by a clothesline from Caliban! BILL HEWSON: I thought Iago was going to get what he deserved for once! JACK JONES: What are you talking about? Nightmare was trying to attack an innocent non-competitor! HE got what he deserved, a smack in the head! Caliban hefts Nightmare over his head in a gorilla press and begins to walk through the crowd, approaching the bleachers. Caliban pumps his arms once and roars at the few fans still standing in his way before hurling Nightmare up four rows to crash into the unforgiving wood. Nightmare rolls back down two rows and Caliban begins to climb up to meet him. Nightmare somehow gets up to one knee and swings an elbow into Caliban's stomach, but it doesnÕt have enough to stop the huge man. Caliban grabs Nightmare by the hair and slams his head down onto the bleachers, then powers him right up and down again in a suplex slam across the wood! Caliban is having his way with Nightmare, and Ringmaster Iago urges him on with a look of sadistic glee on his face. Caliban goes to drag the limp body of Nightmare up another row, but Nightmare again pulls himself upright through sheer force of will and drives a haymaker right between Caliban's eyes. This crowd does not know how Nightmare is still standing after being repeatedly dropped across the seats, but they're cheering like hell to see him do it! Caliban fires off a return shot, but Nightmare blocks it with his arm and answers right back! Caliban is stumbling now, retreating up the bleachers into more and more dangerous territory under the unforgiving, unflagging and most of all unstoppable assault from Nightmare! Caliban almost falls backwards but catches himself on his hands on a higher seat, then shoves himself forward into a huge clothesline attempt... Nightmare ducks under it and catches Caliban up on one shoulder! Nightmare wobbles for a moment, looking like he might topple under the weight of the man, a disaster for certain, but he catches his balance and then takes a step out into the aisle between the seats. Caliban tries to get down off of Nightmare's shoulder, but Nightmare holds the monster fast and takes two running steps up the bleachers... RUNNING POWERSLAM! The bleachers shake from the huge impact, wood creaking and groaning as if it could give way at any second! The seating on both sides of the aisle is in splinters! The crowd cannot believe what they have just seen, and they're letting the man responsible know it. Ringmaster Iago, hanging back after his last brush with Nightmare, has a slack-jawed look of surprise on his face. BILL HEWSON: Incredible, incredible! Can you believe the strength, the resiliency, the sheer will to... we can't say win because they haven't stepped into the ring, but the sheer will to destroy his opponent that Nightmare is showing right now? JACK JONES: That might have been one of the most impressive, and painful, displays I have ever seen doing this job. It's tough enough getting a guy the size of Caliban up there in the first place, even harder to hold him there for any length of time, but then to literally run uphill for a powerslam? I can't believe it! Listen to me --- I'm giving frikkin' NIGHTMARE credit, Hewson! WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON? Nightmare slowly pulls himself to his feet, visibly drained by the massive physical effort, but still drags himself around the cracked and smashed wood to stand above Caliban. Nightmare grabs him by the dreads and drags him further up the bleachers, looking back to see how far he has to go before reaching the top. It isn't far, and he manages to pull Caliban the final few rows. Breathing hard, nostrils flaring, sweat-drenched hair hanging in curtains in front of his face, Nightmare leans down and again seizes Caliban by the throat with both hands, lifting him up to his feet for another try at The Dreamcatcher. Nightmare flexes his arms and for a moment it seems that Caliban is going to stay right where he is, that the deadweight of the man is just too muchÉ but then his feet leave the floor in a sudden burst of strength! A look of almost elation crosses Nightmare's face, but only for a moment before Caliban's hand flashes around to strike his face. With a howl of pain Nightmare releases Caliban, stumbling backwards and clutching both hands over the left side of his face. Caliban falls back to a sitting position and opens his hand, letting several long, jagged, and now bloodied pieces of broken wood fall from it. Blood is dripping out from between Nightmare's clenched fingers, another cut running over his forehead and sending sheets of red into both eyes. Caliban slowly gets back to his feet, almost seeming to relish the moment, then grabs the blindly flailing Nightmare and drives him into the bleachers with the Dreadlock Drop. Caliban stands up once more, still weaving in place from the exhausting contest, but looking to be done with the limp form of Nightmare. Ringmaster Iago has different plans, however, and screams a command, waving his cane back towards Nightmare. Caliban stares back through the eyeslits of his mask, then reaches down and seizes Nightmare by the back of the neck. Caliban drags Nightmare right to the edge of the bleachers, looking down at the cold floor far below. The masked monster shifts his grip to the back of Nightmare's head and begins to lift... Nightmare's leg pistons backwards and catches Caliban between the legs! Before Caliban can fall, Nightmare whirls around and grabs him by the head, in a standing front facelock. His face a dripping crimson mask other than two brilliant points of green shining in the lights of the gym, Nightmare drapes one of Nightmare's arms over the back of his neck. BILL HEWSON: What the hell is Nightmare thinking? He can't do this! JACK JONES: He's thinking SUPERPLEX, if you can call that thinking at all! This could end the careers of both of these men! It is absolute insanity! Don't do it, Nightmare, don't do it! The crowd seems to disagree, caught up in the bloodlust of this intense battle! They scream Nightmare's name as he throws one arm up in the air to signal for what could be the end for both of these men! Nightmare grips Caliban by the leg of his black tights with his left hand and... NO! Caliban wrenches his head and arms free and places both hands on NightmareÕs chest. Time seems to freeze for an instant, Nightmare's green eyes wide with surprise as Caliban's arms both tense. Then it leaps forward, the monster thrusting both arms forward and sending Nightmare flying from the precipice. Nightmare's arms pinwheel as he hangs in the air for the briefest of moments before plummeting downwards to crash through a pile of pallets and tables that had been moved from the back to make room for the wrestlers! The crowd is utterly silent, and the sound of wood smashing, and the softer but more sinister sound of a human body striking the floor seems to echo through the room. Ringmaster Iago could not be more pleased with himself, the only one left smiling as he gestures for Caliban to follow him. The two make their way easily through the crowd and disappear into the back. The EMTs rush out past the cruel pair, monster and master, to see what they can do for Nightmare. BILL HEWSON: I... I don't know what to say. Nightmare fought one of the bravest and most impressive battles we have ever seen here and... JACK JONES: We have to go to commercial, but stay with us and we will keep you updated on the condition of Nightmare after that disastrous fall.
BILL HEWSON: And this crowd giving Nightmare a deserved ovation. He's a little worse for wear, but he's going to walk out of here on his own power Jack Jones! JACK JONES: It was like two big bulls going at it. The bleachers moved for cryin' out loud! BILL HEWSON: Somehow I don't think this rivalry is over... they didn't even get in the ring! Unbelievable. What an ovation from Nightmare! Now, we do need to turn our attention to our next match, and it's a doozy. The new Provincial Champion Mark Millar...defends against a brand new addition to the NAPW roster! JACK JONES: This Newfie gets a title match in his first match. Geez, who'd he bribe with some screech? BILL HEWSON: I don't know if I'd consider screech a "bribe", but Lloyd Rees has turned a lot of heads on upper management. Let's see if he can make an impact here tonight! "The Lemondrop Kid" Lloyd Rees making his entrance, flanked by a crusty looking old man named Old Salty. Salty is waving the newfoundland flag, and at least a few people in the crowd are also displaced Alberta newfies judging by the favorable reaction. Rees gets in the ring and rolls his shoulders, loosening up for the match. Then...it's Big Sugar, and that means THE MOOSE is on his way out! The NAPW Provincial Champion gets a favorable reaction, but strangely, he's wearing street clothes. Jeans and an Edmonton Eskimos t-shirt. The Provincial Belt is slung across his shoulder, however. He glad-hands the front row and gets in the ring, where Frank WARBURTON is ready. FRANK WARBURTON: The following contest is scheduled for ONE FALL, and is for the NAPW PROVINCIAL CHAMPIONSHIP! Introducing first, from Newfoundland... accompanied by Old Salty... "THE LEMONDROP KID"... LLLLLLOYYYYYD REEEEEEES! And now, introducing the champion! From EDMONTON... I give you "THE MOOSE!" MARK! MILLAR! BILL HEWSON: We're about to start the match, but The Moose Mark Miller is still in street clothes! JACK JONES: What kind of Provincial Champion is The Moose? Not a very good one if he forgot his ring gear. Thank god he remembered to bring his belt. The grizzly Mark Miller pulls his Edmonton Eskimos t-shirt off while grinning at the crowd. A "Moose" chant starts up as he runs around the ring. The fans are firmly behind the Provincial Champion, and Moose sticks out his hand for the Lemondrop Kid to shake. Rees takes the hand and the bell rings! Rees and Miller lock up. Miller, the veteran, with the upper hand. And an Irish whip to the ropes followed up by a powerslam! Rees, in his first NAPW match, is looking groggy. Moose waits for him to get up, and a running clothesline by the champ! Miller is certainly in the driver's seat this match. But he's letting his opponent roll out of the ring, and talk to his manager, Salty. Salty seems to be giving Rees some pointers, gestures at Moose, and Rees gets back into the ring. The Moose calls for a test of strength with a big grin on his face, and Lloyd Rees decides to take him up on the test. Moose putting pressure on the arms of the Lemondrop Kid, but what's this? Rees is gaining ground by twisting the hands of the champ! A kick to the gut by Rees. While Moose is bent over, Rees rolls over his back and pulls Miller's legs out from under him. And Rees goes to weaken the leg of Miller with a Lance Cove Leglock! BILL HEWSON: It wasn't looking good for the rookie Lloyd Rees at the beginning, but he seemed to get a feel for the ring. JACK JONES: I guess he got his sea legs back, Hewson! BILL HEWSON: But Alberta's landlocked! Wouldn't that be his "land legs?" JACK JONES: ... Shut it. Moose manages to get to the ropes, breaks the submission move, and rolls out of the ring for a quick breath. But Rees isn't letting Moose catch a breather as he runs to the other side of the ring, and a SPRINGBOARD CORKSCREW off the top rope! Rees lands on Moose, as the crowd starts up a "Holy Shit" chant! The ref starts a ten count while the two opponents lay at ringside trying to get their bearings. Salty's yelling at Rees to get into the ring. "Yeh cain't pin the scut that way, b'y!" Rees gets up, and pushes Moose back into the ring. The Lemondrop Kid pulls up his opponent, and an Irish whip! But it's reversed by Moose as Rees goes flying into the ropes! Powerslam by the Provincial champion! A pin for the one! Two! NO! Rees kicks out! Salty takes a drag from his flask in relief. Miller shrugs and stands up, waiting in the corner for Rees to stand up. When Rees finally does, Miller runs towards the other side of the ring to bounce off the ropes! The crowd's on their feet and cheering, and Salty starts gesturing wildly at a fan. Miller bounces off the ropes as Salty keeps his balance by grabbing the nearest object. What the? He grabbed Moose's leg! Moose whirls around and starts yelling at Salty to what what he's doing. Rees sees an opportunity and grabs Moose's head from behind for a "DDT From The Green!" He covers for the pin! One! Two! THREE! FRANK WARBURTON: Your winner and NEW Provincial Champion: The Lemondrop Kid, LLOYD REEEES! A dazed Moose rolls out of the ring, disappointed. The ref hands Lloyd Rees the Provincial Title in his very first NAPW match! Salty runs into the ring, and Bayman Jakey comes out with a Republic of Newfoundland flag and a case of QV Light! Salty & Jakey mob Lloyd, and the crowd is, well, cheering for it. Lloyd grabs the flag of Newfoundland and climbs the turnbuckle, holding the belt in one hand and waving the flag in the other as his byes cheer him on from the ring! BILL HEWSON: And in his very first NAPW match, Lloyd Rees has won the Provincial Championship! What a victory for the newfoundlander on Monday Night Fights! JACK JONES: You can't buy publicity like that, Bill Hewson. There's a new provincial champion and he sure isn't Albertan! Cut to commercial with the camera focusing on the Newfoundlanders celebrating in the ring.
BILL HEWSON: Did Deathrow STEAL Kyle's ring attire? JACK JONES: I can't imagine why... it look as ugly on Deathrow as it does on Roberts! FRANK WARBURTON: The following contest is scheduled for ONE FALL... introducing fir- Warburton doesn't get a chance to finish. Stylin' Kyle lays into Tommy Deathrow and junior referee Morgan Smythe is forced to call for the bell to start the match. Kyle hammers away at Deathrow, then whips him to the corner and charges! Tommy Deathrow can't duck fast enough, and is nearly lifted out of the ring with a sweet clothesline! Kyle is on fire! The crowd doesn't know who to CHEER for! He hefts Deathrow up... POWERBOMB into the CORNER! BILL HEWSON: Stylin' Kyle Roberts is more intense than I've ever seen him! He's really tearing a strip off of Tommy Deathrow! JACK JONES: Don't sell the Doomrider short, Bill Hewson! This match has only just begun! Kyle presses his advantage, pulling Tommy Deathrow up... only to get his face RAKED by Tommy Deathrow in return! Kyle reels, Deathrow grabs the back of his head... BULLDOG! Kyle is planted in the ring, and now it's Tommy Deathrow's turn to press the advantage, locking in a CAMEL CLUTCH and hauling back on it! Kyle struggles, but can't seem to escape... wait! Ryan Kingston is up on the apron! He's got Morgan Smythe distracted, threatening to SUE over the eye rake from earlier! BILL HEWSON: This is insane! Is he going to subpoena over every dirty move in this match?! What about Kyle's cheating ways? JACK JONES: He has diplomatic immunity. BILL HEWSON: ...from WHERE, exactly? JACK JONES: Well, duh. Moose Jaw. He's the King of Moose Jaw. At least that's what he told me that night at the massage parlor... Hewson is probably shaking his head in disgust, but in the ring! Deathrow can't win if Smythe isn't paying attention, so he releases the hold and rushes over to strike Kingston, who hops off the apron quickly and warns him off with a very legal looking piece of paper. Tommy Deathrow shouts down an obscenity at him, turns... CLOTHESLINE! Tommy Deathrow goes end over end, and Kyle points at his head shouting "Too smart for the Doomriders!" Kyle then turns, rushes the ropes... LIONSAULT! NAILS Tommy Deathrow, and pins! ONE! TWO! Only two! Tommy Deathrow kicks out, and Stylin' Kyle glares at Morgan Smythe like its her fault. JACK JONES: Uh oh. Stylin' Kyle did NOT like that. Kyle hits a few shots on Tommy Deathrow, then whips him at the ropes. He bends down for the back body dropÉ but Deathrow stops short, grabs Kyle by the hair, JUMPSÉ and SLAMS Kyle face first into his KNEE! Kyle reels, and Deathrow is right there with the Boston Crab... but no! Kyle catches his legs and reverses the Boston Crab... into the BEAR TAMER! Tommy Deathrow thrashes towards the ropes... but no! Stylin' Kyle pulls him to the middle of the ring... and TORQUES THAT BABY! Deathrow tears at his hair in agony, and Morgan Smythe gets in his face, asking if he submits! BILL HEWSON: This could be it! TOMMY DEATHROW IS ON THE VERGE! And he is! You can see it! The crowd rallying behind the Doomrider...Deathrow lifts his hand... then grabs hold of Kyle's leg! Then he grabs the other! Then, with a cry of pain, he PULLS DOWN ROBERTS! Kyle topples like a redwood... it's technically a pin! One! Two! Kyle is up at two, and stomping on Tommy Deathrow! Now Kyle pins! One! Only ONE! Kyle angrily punches the mat and shoots another glare at Smythe. Kyle pulls up Tommy Deathrow, smirks at the audience, and calls for the EMERALD FUSION! He hefts up Deathrow! THIS IS IT! WAIT! Tommy Deathrow squirms free, and PULLS KYLE DOWN! SMALL PACKAGE! And he's got Kyle by the belt buckle! ONE! TWO! THREE! HOLY HELL! FRANK WARBURTON: The winner of the match by pinfall... TOMMY DEATHROWWWWW. JACK JONES: WHAT THE HELL!? BILL HEWSON: Tommy Deathrow just STOLE that match! JACK JONES: With a wrestling move, Bill Hewson! A WRESTLING move! Stylin' Kyle can't believe it! Tommy Deathrow slides out of the ring, laughing at Kyle and waving at him as he backs up, the crowd cheering for him! Ryan Kingston hits the ring to help Kyle up, but Roberts shrugs him off and storms over to the referee and starts chewing her out! BILL HEWSON: What? This isn't her fault, JACK JONES: Sure it was! Tommy Deathrow was pulling the tights --- so to speak --- and she should have seen it! BILL HEWSON: Oh, I'm sure Stylin' Kyle's NEVER taken advantage of a referee's distraction. Goes around, comes around, Jack Jones. Kyle is insisting he was, but Morgan Smythe is firm in her decision, even with Ryan Kingston threatening legal action. Kyle makes a chauvinistic comment about women as referees and angrily climbs out of the ring with his lawyer in tow. BILL HEWSON: Well, not exactly sporting of Stylin' Kyle Roberts, but I guess we shouldn't expect anything better from him. JACK JONES: I'm telling you, Hewson, Roberts is in the right here. Maybe Dick Kiebiech should be more selective with his referees. BILL HEWSON: Aren't you the only always spouting off with "If the ref doesn't see it, it's legal?" JACK JONES: I...think we have to take a commercial!
FRANK WARBURTON: The following contest is a six-man tag team attraction... "Flaming Youth" by KISS interrupts Frank's bombastic delivery as The Dudes, most notably without Tiffany, and their partner Static emerge to a mammoth-sized pop. Static looks somewhat unfamiliar with this type of response and simply stomps his way to the ring while The Dudes ham it up with the crowd. A sign in attendance reads "The Pack Need to Be Chilled!" while another reads "Tiffany is a SLuT!" JACK JONES: These guys don't look so good anymore without sexy little Tiffany MacIntyre in their corner and their bad mojo is clearly affecting Static. BILL HEWSON: I'd say the opposite. These guys appear intense and ready to derail any momentum that the Rat Pack is trying to build. FRANK WARBURTON: At a combined weight of SIX-HUNDRED and forty five pounds... Static and The Duuuuuuudes!!! KISS cuts off shortly thereafter as "West End Girls" by the Pet Shop Boys slithers its way out of the PA. The crowd heartily boos as Evan Cartwright, Chris Casino, and Devastation emerge from the back, flanked by a rather subdued Terry Brandon sans his trademark briefcase. The three members of The Pack cockily saunter their way ringside and make choice references to various fans. A sign in the audience reads "Devastation is my Daddy!" FRANK WARBURTON: Accompanied to the ring by manager Terry Brandon, at a combined weight of seven-hundred forty-seven pounds and 1/4 lbs, Theeeeeeeeee Rat Pack! JACK JONES: Now these boys are what NAPW needs to watch out for. All three are the perfect amalgamation of skill, technique, speed, and hard-hitting strength. An alliance that I feel will soon dominate NAPW. BILL HEWSON: Not while true talents like Static and The Dudes are there to counter their efforts. JACK JONES: You're such a pansy sometimes, Bill. I swear you're gonna come out here one of these days wearing a cowboy hat and saying things like "Slobber knocker" and "Barn Burner!" BILL HEWSON: Pipe down and do your job, you degenerate gambler. Brandon takes up residence in his corner outside the ring as Devastation enters the ring first. He looks ready to lock horns with Cam Scott, but Static takes the initiative as team captain. Dev smiles and makes the cutthroat sign to Static, who taunts him from afar. Dick Kiebiech motions for the bell to be rung and we are underway. Devastation laughs and reaches his hand behind his back where Casino tags in. Dev waves a finger at Static and takes up space next to Evan in their corner. Casino is intense and ready for a fight as he charges Static and unleashes with a barrage of blows and a flurry of chops. He whips Static into the ropes, but the "Hardcore Luchador" switches on him and catches Casino with a head scissors takedown. Casino is up quickly as Static tries to take him over with an arm drag. Chris utilizes his size and strength advantage by blocking the throw and sweeping a leg behind Static while taking him down with a falling lariat, hard impact move. Casino covers with a lateral press, but Static kicks out at two. BILL HEWSON: You must always be on your game when facing a former heavyweight champion like Chris Casino. JACK JONES: The man's a former NAPW champion and is small enough to beat you to the punch and strong enough to make that punch throw you for a loop. BILL HEWSON: Don't count Static out, as dynamite comes in small packages. JACK JONES: Cliche Whore! Casino lays the boots to Static before wrapping him up in an arm wringer before tagging in Evan Cartwright. The former Provincial Champion enters and hammers an elbow to the bicep/shoulder area of Static. Evan wrings the arm once again, even tighter, but Static manages to flip forward with the momentum and escapes. He quickly follows up with an enziguri that echoes throughout the NAIT. Evan falls forward like a dead fish as Static shakes off his arm. The savvy luchador quickly goes for Evan CartwrightÕs Achilles heel (literally) by lifting is ankle up and slamming it back down to the mat. Evan bellows in pain as he tries to roll to his corner. Static pulls him back by the tender left ankle and lays it across the ropes where he jumps up and slams all his weight down onto it. Cartwright is howling now, pounding his fist into the mat. Dev and Casino shout encouragement from their corner as Static tags in Mike Johnston. The smaller half of The Dudes flips over the ropes with a corkscrew that nails Cartwright in the leg and grazes the ankle. Johnston scampers to the opposing corner and nails both Casino and Dev with forearm shots before hightailing it. Casino and Dev bellow at Kiebeich, who simply warns Johnston. Mike goes to the top rope and prepares to nail a rising Evan Cartwright with a missile dropkick. He takes flight and Cartwright moves out of the way just in time, causing Johnston to crash hard. Evan tags in Devastation, who runs in and cuts Johnston off before he can make a tag. He flips The Dude for real with a high-arching German Suplex that folds him up like an accordion. Dev is on the attack and hammers the smaller man in the corner before grabbing him by the arm and delivering his Rapid Fire Short Arm Clotheslines. Dev covers his man in the middle of the ring. Johnston kicks out at 2, and Cam Scott shouts something to Devastation. The big man smirks and hurls Mike into his own corner, daring Cam Scott to face him. Cam tags in and is a house afire, laying into Devastation with rights and lefts; Devastation fights back and we are reminded of two bison butting heads. BILL HEWSON: These two behemoths may just cause the ring to collapse! JACK JONES: Use the old equalizer --- give him a low blow! Cam Scott gets the upper hand and manages to whip a winded Devastation into the ropes and connect with a flying shoulder tackle. The ring shakes and Cam takes his man down once again with a scoop slam. Static screams to be tagged in, and Cam obliges. Static climbs to the top and drops a leg across throat of Devastation, who rolls over holding his neck. Static wails on him with hard shots and kicks, but it's almost like a bee stinging a mountain. Static off the ropes and Dev cuts him down with a big boot to the face. Dev drops and elbow and covers, but Static kicks out in time. Dev lifts his man by the mask and tags in Casino, who wraps his man up in a sleeper hold, then falls forward, slamming Static down in the process. Casino covers, but Static kicks out at 2. Casino tags in Cartwright, now apparently somewhat recovered. He slams Static hard with a Sambo Suplex and covers, but again, Static shows his resiliency by kicking out. BILL HEWSON: Static will not go down! JACK JONES: Then they'll just have to pound him until he does. I love torture! Cartwright tags in Casino, who climbs to the top. Cartwright lifts his prone opponent and executes The Cartwheel, laying into the Boston Crab somewhat gingerly, as his ankle isn't 100%. Casino unleashes with the Shooting Star Knee drop and Static goes limp. The crowd is stunned! BILL HEWSON: What a maneuver! JACK JONES: I believe they finally settled on a name for that, The Roulette Wheel. BILL HEWSON: What impact! And a bit of an insult to Static, who uses the Shooting Star Press as his finisher! Cartwright covers, but Cam Scott runs in and breaks up the count just in time. The ref admonishes Scott and sends him back as Cartwright pulls Static back into his corner and tags in Devastation, who taunts The Dudes while setting up Static for the Burning Hammer. Static manages to catch Dev off guard and nail him with a falling tornado DDT. Static is hurt, but manages to pull himself to his corner as Dev slowly does the same. Dev tags in Casino, just as Static tags in Cam Scott, who is on fire once again. He drops Casino with a clothesline before booting Dev in the face and power slamming Evan Cartwright to the mat. Cam bellows before pressing Casino over his head and dropping him like a bad habit. Scott covers, but Casino kicks out at 2. Cam sets him up for The Neck Crick, when Evan and Dev double team him. Kiebeich tries to restore order as Johnston and Static both enter the ring as well and all hell breaks loose. Static nails Cartwright with a Cactus Clothesline over the top while Devastation hammers Scott to the outside and follows him out. All hell breaks loose outside while Casino is being stalked by Johnston inside. Johnston sets Casino up for the White Russian, but Casino blocks the move and ducks out of the way. Johnston charges and Casino ducks him again. Mike hits the ropes and comes back full force while Casino put on the brakes. Casino extends with a superkick and absolutely nails Johnston in the grill. The Dude is down and Casino covers, but Dick Keibeich is busy threatening to count everyone outside the ring out. Casino pounds the mat in frustration as he stands. Just then, from out of the crowd comes LOBO! He jumps the rail and slides into the ring just as Casino turns around. Lobo tears Casino down and just starts laying into him with wild rights and lefts, forcing Casino to cover up from the Olympian's rage! The ref sees this happen and calls for the bell! FRANK WARBURTON: The winners of the match as a result of a DISQUALIFICATION... THEEEEEE RAT PACK! Lobo now, stomping on Casino relentlessly! Devastation and Cartwright slide back in to save their comrade. Lobo takes his leave as Terry Brandon is speechless at ringside. Devastation and Cartwright help Casino stand and shout out at Lobo, then turn their anger toward Brandon, who claims to have no knowledge of this occurring. None of them pay attention as Static and The Dudes creep up behind The Rat Pack and tap them on the shoulders in unison. They reply with a TRIPLE TEAM DROPKICK! The Rat Pack all tumbles out of the ring in short order as the crowd is really cheering for The Dudes and Static despite them losing by DQ. JACK JONES: This is an absolute travesty! Lobo should be fined and suspended, and Brandon should be castrated for being so ineffective. BILL HEWSON: I can't really blame him for wanting revenge against Chris Casino for what he did, but it ended up costing Static and The Dudes the match. JACK JONES: The Rat Pack would have won, regardless, but this just taints the sweet taste of victory! The Dudes and Static all raise their arms as if they won as "Bada Bing" by Dangerdoom blasts over the PA. The Rat Pack are upset that they aren't hogging the spotlight and swear revenge. Devastation hauls Brandon to the back by his collar, like a scolded dog.
JACK JONES: Maybe she likes the rough stuff. BILL HEWSON: ...will you stop? In any event, right now, the NAPW Champion has requested and been granted an opportunity to come out and address the situation! So let's get to it! Apocalyptica plays, and out walks RAVAGER in a styling all-black suite. He's a hitman, ya? He's gotta dress the part, The NAPW title is over his shoulder, looking pretty awesome. His hair is slicked back and black like Christian Bale. In Equilibrium, not American Psycho. Tiffany has traded in her cheerleader outfit for a conversative yet attractive business suit, complete with glasses and her hair up. Of course, there is the fact that she's still wearing a neck brace. The crowd reaction is mixed, to say the least. Ravager & Tiffany take their time to the ring. The champion holds the ropes for his new business manager, as she gingerly steps through. They stand in the center of the ring. RAVAGER: Now I'm sure many of you are still waiting for an explanation for my actions last Monday. And I'm sure many more of you want an explanation for her actions. (points to Tiffany) You see, sometimes, we have to make a sacrifice to get ahead. Whether it's our time, our effort, our money, or in some cases, (points to the neck brace still around Tiffany's neck) our physical well being, sometimes you have to make a difficult choice. I had to take the risk of losing fan support to get ahead in my match with D! Tiffany risked her body, and maybe even her life to further her career. And can you argue with the results? Tiffany takes the microphone. TIFFANY: Now Mike, Cam. I'm sorry you guys had to be dragged into this. And I'm sure you two will have great success in the future. But there was nothing more I could do to help you. You two wanted to joke around when you should have been deep in thought preparing for your matches. You had some success, but imagine if you had played to your full potential. That's why I left. And that's why I aligned myself with this man. Someone who will refine his focus like a laser beam onto his opponents. Someone who will do whatever is necessary to win. Someone who has never turned down a challenge. Even when the opponent is a little... off base. Ravager takes the mic back. RAVAGER: Now I'm sure the fans have looked at the rankings on NAPW.ca. And they know who's going to be first in line for a shot at my NAPW title. Minstrel. The only man who holds more than one victory over me. I've heard the comments that he has my number, that I can never beat him. Well. Things are a bit different now. Minstrel. Sure, you've got two pin falls over me. But who was the guy standing in the ring with his arms raised after the match. Who got the standing ovation? And who was left lying in the center of the ring? You see Minstrel, you biggest ally in those matches, was the ropes. You always had a good hold of those when you beat me. But if you want this (takes the title belt off of his shoulder, and holds it up to the camera) you're going to have to work a bit harder. TIFFANY: The match is set Minstrel. Next Monday night. You versus Ravager, for the NAPW title. But not just any title match, Minstrel. You get your shot at the big gold belt... in a Texas Death Match. Falls count anywhere. But here's the hitch. You can get all the illegal pins you want. But to win, your opponent has to stay down for a ten count. If he doesn't, the match goes on, until only one man is left standing. RAVAGER: So Minstrel. Here's the question? You think you can knock me out? If you want the title, you better be able... "A Man Alone" by Finch blares out of the speakers as The Minstrel rides a tricycle out into the aisle. He pulls a microphone from his pocket as he gets up from the tricycle. The crowd boos the man heavily. MINSTREL: Hey buddy. He waves at Ravager in the ring. MINSTREL: It's been a while since we've spoken, you know, I thought we were tighter then that... You know, I didn't think you'd let a little shiny thing come between us like that. We had some great times, me trashing your place and constantly beating you then you flipping out after the match. Those are the memories I cherish. He reaches up with his gloved hand and wipes a mock tear from his mask. MINSTREL: But we are so fortunate... We are so lucky that fate has brought us back together, my friend. You see, beating everyone else isn't nearly as fun as beating a guy who acts like a damn gorilla every time they lose. He pounds chest and gives a Tarzan call, then chuckles MINSTREL: You know, buddy, the more things change the more they stay the same. You still have the intelligence of a jar of mayonnaise, which may explain your taste in women. I mean you're quick to point out that IÕve never knocked you outÉ But frankly, you seem to be forgetting that you've NEVER even pinned me for a three count. He slaps his hands down one, two, three and he turns as though he was going to walk away then turns back around. MINSTREL: Oh, and I almost forgot, you went and got your little stipulation on me. Well, the Mater Of Mischief has got his own LITTLE plan for getting his own LITTLE advantage. He points at Tiffany and begins laughing. The crowd, remembering what Minstrel did to Maniac's wife, begins to boo him heartily. Tiffany swallows hard, but Ravager remains implacable. RAVAGER: (chuckling humorlessly) Oh Minstrel. Just when I think you might be able to outsmart me... You have to go and give me one more incentive to win. And with that Ravager drops the Microphone and charges out of the ring after Minstrel, who tosses the tricycle at him. Ravager manages to duck, and jumps Minstrel, throwing punches as Minstrel responds in kind. Officials and other wrestlers rush out to pull the men apart. BILL HEWSON: My goodness, the war between Minstrel & Ravager has been taken to a new level! A Texas Death Match for the NAPW Championship! And with all the usual suspects trying to tear apart Minstrel & Ravager, NAPW fades to commercial.
BILL HEWSON: Interesting. But we are back on MNF, and it's time for the Canada Cup finals! FRANK WARBURTON: Ladies and gentlemen... it is now time for the MAIN EVENT... and it is the CANADA CUP FINAL. The crowd cheers as "More Human than Human" blasts out of the speakers. "The Nexus One" Rex Caliber is in the house! He makes his way to the ring, glad handing all his "Freaks of Nature," hits the ring, then pulls off his t-shirt and hucks it into the crowd. Some lucky fan holds it high. BILL HEWSON: The Nexus One's "Freaks" are sure here tonight to cheer on their hero! JACK JONES: Well they should get ready for disappointment, Bill Hewson. Sick Billy Kryenik's on a roll and his next stop is Rex Caliber station. "Celestial" by Isis and the cheers continue with surprising fan-favorite... Sick Billy Kryenik! He emerges from the back... dressed in "The Moose" Mark Miller's ring attire? It's baggy and doesn't fit right, but Kryenik has it pinned up. He smirks at the crowd and hits the ring. BILL HEWSON: Well, that explains why Moose was out here in his street clothes earlier. I suppose The Doomriders did need actual wrestling gear... JACK JONES: It does not matter what gear Kryenik wears tonight... that man is about to walk out of here with the Canada Cup. BILL HEWSON: Oh, brother. FRANK WARBURTON: The following contest is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first, from Parts Unknown, North Carolina and weighing in at TWO HUNDRED and FORTY FIVE pounds... The Nexus One... REEXXXXX CAAAALIBEEEEER. And his opponent, from Windsor, Ontario and weighing in at TWO HUNDRED and FORTY one pounds... SICK BILLY KRYYYYENIIIK! Senior Referee Dick Kiebiech calls for the bell, and this match is underway! Rex and Kryenik walk right up to one another and get right into each other's faces. The crowd is going NUTS, and the two men just glare at each other, neither willing to be intimidated. BILL HEWSON: Such intensity! I've never seen two opponents so focused! Neither man has even DONE anything yet! Wait! Sick Billy lashes out with a SLAP, right across Caliber's face! The Nexus One didn't like that, and strikes back with a STIFF shot, right between BillyÕs eyes! And Sick Billy strikes right back! Back and forth, back and forth! Both men just HAMMERING each other with blows! HOLY HELL, Rex Caliber has been busted open above the eyebrow! Just from the PUNCHES! The Nexus One staggers a bit and Sick Billy pounces! He grabs hold of Caliber and whips him hard to the ropes! Rex rebounds... KISS OF BABYLON...NO! Rex goes LOW, taking out Sick Billy's leg when he superkicks! Billy SPILLS, landing in a PAINFUL looking splits, and the crowd GROANS in sympathy pain! Rex Caliber is up, swings around, and KICKS the hell out Billy's face! GOOD GOD! Now, Sick Billy's busted open! JACK JONES: These two guys aren't pulling punches, Bill Hewson! Rex Caliber presses his attack, HAULING Kryenik to his feet, locking up, and NAILING a Release German that sends Sick Billy end over end! Billy rises fast, clearly dazed, and takes a few swings at the turnbuckle. Rex Caliber just won't stop! He rushes over, grabs Kryenik head, and SLAMS him face first into the corner! Kryenik looks momentarily, not unlike a bobble head, then drops... and the Nexus One is right there to lock in THE NEXUS CLOVERLEAF! BILL HEWSON: Oh lord! This match may be OVER, right here! JACK JONES: I don't envy Kryenik! The crowd is on its feet, chanting "Please don't tap! Please don't tap!" Billy Kryenik THRASHES, desperately trying to reach a rope. Dick Kiebiech is right there asking if he wants to submit, but Kryenik keeps shouting "No!" There's the ropes! And Rex is forced to make a clean break. Billy is hurting bad, but has no where to go. Caliber is right there, dropping an elbow! There's a pin! One! Two! Just two! JACK JONES: Kryenik needs to get back in this match, or he'll never win the cup! Kryenik pulls himself up by the ropes, and blindly lashes out with that killer right hook! GOOD GOD ALMIGHTY! He connects with Caliber, right between the eyes, and the Nexus One collapses like a rickety bridge! The crowd is INTO it. They're FEEDING off the intensity! Sick Billy doesn't give himself time to recover. He hops up to the second rope, and lands a sweet springboard elbow drop square into Caliber's heart. Both men go to rise, but BillyÕs faster on the draw! He KICKS Caliber hard in the ribs, then drops another elbow on his back! AND THE BRANCH BREAKER IS LOCKED IN! BILL HEWSON: Holy hell! Kryenik is going to break Rex Caliber right in two! JACK JONES: Tap! TAAAAP! Sick Billy is shouting the same thing! But the crowd disagrees with Jack and Kryenik, again chanting "Please don't tap! Please don't tap!" Kryenik cranks back on the hold, but Rex Caliber manages to ROLL OVER... it's a PIN! One! Two! And Kryenik is forced to let go of the hold or lose the match! JACK JONES: That was a smart play by Caliber, I'll hand it to him. Rex hauls himself up in the corner as fast as he can, while Kryenik gets up mid ring. Sick Billy turns... RUNNING STO! He spills onto HIS HEAD, folding like a bad poker hand! Rex Caliber with another pin! One! Two! Just two! The Nexus One, now, grabs Kryenik and pulls him to his feet, only to take a shot in the gut! The stunned Rex is then whipped into the corner... and Billy NAILS a stiff lariat! And now he's setting Rex up on the ropes... could it be!? HOT SALVATION combination! This match is OVER! Rex Caliber looks like he might be knocked out! Sick Billy Kryenik with the pin! ONE! TWO! THRRRNOOOOO! Rex KICKS OUT at the last possible moment! Sick Billy ARGUES with Kiebiech, INSISTING it was three! JACK JONES: How did Caliber kick out?! BILL HEWSON: I honestly don't know, Jack Jones. Kryenik hauls up Caliber and whips him again into corner. Another Hot Salvation!? He charges for the lariat... NO ONE HOME! Kryenik turns, clutching his chest, into a VOLLEY of stiff knife edge chops! The crowd chants along! One! Two! Three! Four! Five! Six! Seven! Eight! Nine! Ten... and one more for good luck! ELEVEN! The Nexus One then turns and gives a shout out to his Freaks! Sick Billy grits his teeth, fighting through the pain, turns, and NAILS Rex in the back of the head with that right hook, throws him into the corner, and unleashes HIS OWN volley of knife edge chops! The crowd just cheers this time! GOOD GOD IN HEAVEN! Rex Caliber's CHEST is beet-red, clearly loads of blood vessels have burst under the skin after that series of chops! Sick Billy turns to the crowd with a sick grin, and this time he's WINDING UP that deadly, deadly hook, turns... Caliber catches his arm! RINGS OF REX! Billy practically SCREAMS in shock and pain! BILL HEWSON: This match has to end! These men are going to KILL one another! Kryenik can't take it! Both arms are locked into the Rings, and he's going to submit... but... no! He tries to fight it! He squirms around and tries to get his foot on the ropes... but juuuuust canÕt reach! The crowd is on its FEET! Rex just grits his teeth and TORQUES back on the shoulder! Sick Billy... again... crying out in pain... can he get the foot on the ropes? Will he tap out? THIS IS IT! NO! He catches the ropes! HE CATCHES THE ROPES! JACK JONES: WHY WON'T ANYONE LOSE!? Sick Billy Kryenik rises. Rex Caliber rises. Both men are bleeding from the face, and breathing hard. Billy rolls his shoulders to loosen up, and Rex just GLARES at him... and RUSHES! Sick Billy ducks aside, goes low... DROP TOE HOLD! The Nexus One spills into the ropes, effectively giving himself a stun gun. Billy, on the offensive again, goes to drop an elbow... but no one's home! Rex rolls out of the way! Sick Billy howls as his weakened arm impacts on the mat, and rolls aside too. BILL HEWSON: These two men want this win so badly, that they're giving everything away in the ring! JACK JONES: I tell you, Bill Hewson, these two guys are... hold up! BILL HEWSON: What's HE doing out here!? Who's he? Why, it's STYLIN' KYLE ROBERTS, sneaking down to ringside. Oh. And he has the blood-stained chair that Kryenik used on him last week on Action!. Just as, you know. A point of interest.. Rex Caliber sends Sick Billy to the ropes and levels him with a clothesline, sending him over the top and to the floor outside. Kiebiech gets in Caliber's face, admonishing him, and that's all the time Kyle needs to pounce on Sick Billy, blasting him square in the face with that steel chair. Now Kryenik's blood is all over it, and Kyle slams the chair down with a smug expression on his face. BILL HEWSON: As if Kryenik wasn't bleeding enough, that just split him wiiiiide open! Roberts isn't a fan of touching a bloody Sick Billy, but still hauls up Kyrenik and rolls him into the ring. Kryenik doesn't even look conscious. This can't be good... he may be seriously injured! Rex Caliber turns, oblivious to all of this, pulls the limp Kryenik to the middle of the ring! The crowd HASN'T SAT DOWN! Rex with the pin! ONE! TWO! NOT LIKE THIS....! KICKOUT! Stylin' Kyle Roberts CAN'T BELIEVE HIS EYES! He throws a FIT at ringside! Rex Caliber doesn't know what's what, but hauls up a wobbly legged Sick Billy and whips him to the corner. Rex sets up Kryenik... for the TOTAL ANNIHILATION! This is IT! Wait, Kryenik's still in the game! He reverses out of The Nexus One's finisher... slipping down and pulling Rex into... the DRY LAKE... wait! Rex only gets as far as the underhook, powers out, grabs the legs... for the NEXUS CLOVERLEAF... but NO! Sick Billy fights loose! Rushes at Rex, and catches him for a SIT-OUT PEDIGREE... but Rex has his legs! He flips Kryenik onto his back... lifts him up into... a... STYLES CLASH!? HE HITS IT! THE PIN! ONE! TWO! Annnnnnnnd... THREE! FRANK WARBURTON: Here is your winner... and the WINNER of the CANADA CUP TOURNAMENT! The Nexus One... REX CAAALIBBBERRRR! The crowd is going NUTS! Sick Billy rolls from the ring into a bloody heap. Stylin' Kyle Roberts beams and applauds Rex Caliber's victory, and Rex hits each turnbuckle in tandem, basking in the cheers! JACK JONES: I can't believe it! Rex Caliber won Chris Casino's tournament! BILL HEWSON: What a match! If only Kyle Roberts hadn't gotten invol... TOMMY DEATHROW! Tommy Deathrow flies out of the crowd and NAILS Stylin' Kyle Roberts with a double axe handle to the back! Kyle spills to the ring apron, and Deathrow starts putting the boots to him! Sick Billy Kryenik rises like the dead, fixing a deadly, blood-soaked glare at Roberts, and rushes him! Both Doomriders just start kicking the ever loving HELL out of the Tag Champ! Tommy Deathrow rolls Roberts into the ring, while Sick Billy retrieves the bloody chair. The Nexus One --- who shares a respect with Kyle Roberts --- hops down from his turnbuckle perch, shouting angrily at the Doomriders, and heads over to break up the fight. Mid-ring, Deathrow sets up the Tag Champ. Kryenik kisses the bloody chair. He swings at Kyle... who DUCKS! SPLAT! Rex Caliber takes the chair right in the kisser and down he goes! The crowd boos --- I mean come on. EVERYBODY LOVES REX CALIBER! JACK JONES: The Doomriders are tearing this place apart! And those boos become cheers! THE DUDES! STATIC! Mike Johnston and Static hit the ring at a sprint! Cameron Scott circles around and pulls the stunned Rex Caliber out of harm's way! Static goes toe-to-toe with the bloody Kryenik, fists flying, while Mike Johnston nails Tommy Deathrow with a standing dropkick! JACK JONES: What's going on here!? Are the Crimes and the Dudes... HELPING StylinÕ Kyle!? BILL HEWSON: They might not like one another, Jack Jones... but even though the fans seem to like them, NO WRESTLERS like the Doomriders! They've made nothing but enemies in the NAPW! Mike Johnston goes up top... Stylin' Kyle, back on his feet, lines up a dazed Deathrow... POLAR-IZER! Johnston off the top! MOONSAULT! JACK JONES: Did I just see what I think I saw! BILL HEWSON: Everyone's on the same page! Static hauls up Sick Billy... and a FUNCRUSHER plants him the ring! The Doomriders are done for... THE RAT PACK!? Chris Casino and Evan Cartwright fly into the ring! Devastation is right behind them, hanging at ringside and directing traffic! Casino nearly BEHEADS Static with a superkick, and Evan Cartwright springboards off the ropes, NAILING Stylin' Kyle with an Asai Dropkick! Devastation is telling Casino to go upstairs for the Cash Out... but then he gets attacked from behind by Cameron Scott and Rex Caliber! Mike Johnston catches Cartwright from behind! Release German! Then Johnston's block gets knocked off by a running lariat from Tommy Deathrow! BILL HEWSON: This is pandemonium! Five different tag teams! Everyone is fighting! Chris Casino pulls Sick Billy out of the ring and whips him into a ringpost. Tommy Deathrow follows and starts punching Casino from behind! Stylin' Kyle rushes Evan Cartwright, and clotheslines him right over the top rope! Mike Johnston slides out of the ring to help Cam and Rex with the Vicious Phenom at ringside. All of those men, now, fighting into a cluster at ringside! Suddenly... BILL HEWSON: IT'S THE BEAST, BRUCE RICHARDS! JACK JONES: This has gotta be doctor's orders... FIRE IN THE HOLE! T And from the crowd, Bruce Richards hits the ring on the opposite side of the melee! He gets up a head of steam and... LAUNCHES over the top rope with a no-hands SUICIDE PLANCHA! Bruce "The Beast" lands on the whole group and EVERYONE is laid out! BILL HEWSON: Two hundred and seventy pounds flying through the air at incredible velocity! And everybody is out, Jack Jones! JACK JONES: This is insane! Someone call the cops! BILL HEWSON: I've never seen anything like this in my life! Where next will danger STRIKE!? We've got to go! For myself and my broadcast partner, Jack "Attack" Jones... GOODNIGHT!
The cameras stop rolling as we see The New & Improved D-X, The Crimes, The Dudes, The Rat Pack and The Doomriders all wailing on each other at ringside! The tag division has exploded all over MNF! And with that, we go off the air!
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