MONDAY. NIGHT. FIGHTS.03/02/2006
We are LIVE in Edmonton, Alberta where over four hundred screaming fans are jampacked in the NAIT Athletic Center, where Alberta's finest independent promotion is held every Monday night. The crowd is hot and ready for action, as we go to Bill Hewson & Jack Jones at the announce position. BILL HEWSON: Welcome once again to MONDAY NIGHT FIGHTS! I'm Bill Hewson alongside Jack "ATTACK" Jones, and we are ready for one hell of a night of action! The Rat Pack's feud with the Crimes & The Dudes continues as Devastation makes his NAPW singles debut against the hardcore Luchadore, Static! JACK JONES: That lunatic is going to be a smear on the canvas after tonight... BILL HEWSON: And in a match that has been a long-time coming, CHRIS CASINO will challenge LOBO for Terry Brandon's managerial contract! After tonight, Brandon will no longer manage one of those two men. But now, let's go to the ring for our first match. A match that should be, um, interesting. JACK JONES: Yeah, if you like cruel and unusual punishment. "The Wretched" by Nine Inch Nails screeches over the PA system as the gothic sideshow barker, Ringmaster Iago, leads his monster CALIBAN out from backstage. As the duo make their way down to the ring a figure runs out from the back and attacks Caliban from behind! BILL HEWSON: It's Wayne Wright! He's not wasting any time! JACK JONES: I'm now totally convinced that Wright is officially retarded. Wright pelts the beast with rights and lefts to the back. Caliban simply shrugs them off. Ringmaster Iago gives his monster a nod of the head and Caliban spins around and levels Wright with a clothesline! Caliban pulls Wright off the floor, drapes him over his shoulder and carries him down to the ring. Caliban rolls Wright into the ring and the referee calls for the bell! BILL HEWSON: What does Wright need to do in order to stop Caliban? JACK JONES: He can start with a bazooka. Caliban climbs into the ring and clubs a rising Wayne Wright with a big right hand to the head. Wright tries to get off his back but takes another beefy right hand square in the face. Caliban bounces off the near ropes and plants a body splash onto the overmatched Wayne Wright! Ringmaster Iago is stroking his goatee as Caliban pulls a dazed Wright to a vertical position. Wright rakes the eyes of Caliban and hits an eye clap that seems to stun the huge man! Wright hits the ropes but runs into a big boot to the face that ends his brief comeback! BILL HEWSON: Wright looked to be getting some momentum there for a second. JACK JONES: Caliban is playing with him like a cat plays with a mouse. Caliban drags Wright to his feet, shoots him into the ropes and nails a big gorilla press drop! As Wright lays prone on the mat Caliban drops a big leg across the face of Wright. Caliban looks at Iago who shakes his head "no" and the monster pulls a hurting Wayne Wright to his feet. Caliban hits a suplex slam onto Wright and goes for a cover, this is academic. ONE...TWO...Caliban pulls Wright off the mat! As the referee yells at Caliban, the monster ignores him and looks to his "trainer" on the outside. BILL HEWSON: Pretty sure he could have had him there. JACK JONE: You think? Didn't Wright lose to a girl a few weeks ago? Ringmaster Iago nods his head "yes" and Caliban pulls Wright to his feet. He wraps a hand around the back of Wright's neck and punishes him with his "Heart Of Darkness" reverse chokeslam! Caliban lays across the body of Wright as the referee counts, ONE, TWO, THREE! FRANK WARBURTON: Here is your winner by pinfall...CALIBAN! BILL HEWSON: Wayne lost, but at least he's still alive! JACK JONES: Barely. Nightmare thinks he can take out Caliban next week? He's dreamin'! BILL HEWSON: Next week in a FALLS COUNT ANYWHERE match-up, it will be Caliban and Nightmare... WAIT A MINUTE! IT'S NIGHTMARE FROM THE CROWD! NIGHTMARE is indeed in the ring from the crowd, and he's attacking Caliban from behind! CLOTHESLINE sends Caliban over the top rope, but the monster lands on his feet! Iago gets between Caliban, he's instructing Caliban not to go after Nightmare now. Nightmare dares him to come him, but Iago sticks his cane at Nightmare with an oily grin. "Oh, no, Nightmare, we want you to...be weak from the anticipation!" And we go to break with the two behemoths staring each other down, the crowd behind Nightmare.
BILL HEWSON: NAPW fans seem pretty angry with this man right now-- JACK JONES: Yeah, people don't like it when smart people tell the truth. But Devastation's laid out some pretty interesting facts about his opponent tonight. BILL HEWSON: FACTS? More like SLANDER and LIBEL,if you ask me. JACK JONES: And I didn't. Poised, confident, Devastation climbs into the ring over the top rope, finds one of the turnbucles, and crouches down against it, waiting for the bell to ring. "NOT A LOT OF BLING! WHEN YOU DO THE THING, BADA BOOM, BADA BING!" And the crowd goes FUN for one-half of the Crimes, the Hardcore Luchador, Static! Seemingly digging the recent trend of crowd love, Static points to various sections on his way down to ringside, eliciting a loud pop every time. JACK JONES: Showboat. BILL HEWSON: You used to LOVE Static. Drop some science on us, Jones. If you were Static, how would you prepare for an opponent who's six-foot-eight, three-hundred-five pounds? JACK JONES: I'd pack a gun. BILL HEWSON: Yes, well... I doubt Static's going to be shooting Devastation. JACK JONES: The gun's not for Devastation. Is it me or did it get cold in here? Let's all gather around a blazing-hot Frank Waburton: FRANK WARBURTON: The following contest is scheduled for ONE FALL! Introducing first, standing in the ring, weighing in at one-hundred, seventy-five pounds, hailing from WINDSOR, ONTARIO-- Frank looks at Static, who gives him a nod. --and PROUDLY TRAINED IN MEXICO, THIS! IS! STAAAAATIC! And introducing his opponent, in the corner, from SOUTH BOSTON, MASSACHUUUUUUUUUSETS, representing the Rat Pack and WEIGHING in at three-hundred-and-five pounds, DEEEVASTAAAAATIOOON! Ring that bell! Devastation rears up from the corner, all of his six feet, eight inches in evidence, and focuses a searing, intense look of disgust on Static. Static, on the other hand, is busy hopping on his feet like the mat's a hotplate. Devastation strolls up to the smaller man and SHOVES him, sending him nearly careening into the opposite turnbuckle. Static steadies himself, "dusts off" his chest-- JACK JONES: He's got the measure of Devastations' strength NOW, HA! --flips him off, yells "SUCK MY VOODOO!" and jumps from a running start, FLYING PIMP SLAP! Oh, you KNOW Devastation didn't approve of THAT. Here comes the clothesline, DUCKED, Static now positioned behind the bigger man, WHACK! a precision kick to the back of the knee, catches the bigger man unaware. WAIT A MINUTE! Devastation just voluntarily threw himself back, hooking Static on the way down with a Back Elbow! Static didn't expect that! Devastation's on top of Static, he must be twice his size, and he's hooked one of the legs! Referee drops down on this pinfall attempt--not like this! ONE! TWO! KICKOUT! Static just threw everything he HAD into that kick-out in the early, EARLY goings of this match! Devastastion admonishes the referee, physically illustrating how fast a three-count is SUPPOSED to go, before hooking Static's mask once more and hauling him up-- BILL HEWSON: That's COMPLETELY disrespectful! --Irish Whip into the ropes, Static reverses by jumping ONTO the ropes, and he's coming off with an Asai Moonsault--as a TAKEDOWN--CAUGHT! by the Vicious Phenom, Static being held upside down! He re-hooks Static's head and allows his feet to touch the ground--FACELOCK ELBOW DROP! And now another pinfall attempt--ONE! TWO! KICKOUT! JACK JONES: This is AWESOME. Devastation's reversals are just, well . . . DEVASTATING! And he can keep this up all NIGHT! BILL HEWSON: Well, it's true that Static won't be able to get the job done by being punished every time he gets a maneuv--HEY! Static's back in the action! Throwing rights at an astonished Devastation! Astonished, indeed, as Devastation was pulled back from yelling at the ref again and receives a heavy peppering of shots by a suddenly turbo-charged Static. The crowd roars for blood as the smaller man climbs on top of him, raining down shots of lefts and rights--POWER OUT! by Devastation knocks the lighter man off--and Static is BACK in a flash to continue the pummelling! Devastation drags himself--and Static--over to the ropes where he takes the lower rope. The referee now has TWO good reasons to call Static off of him, threatening to disqualify him immediately. Static relents and steps back to the center of the ring. Devastation, PISSED, stands himself up keeps his eyes fixed on his masked opponent. He winds up his shoulder and throws another huge CLOTHESLINE--telegraphed, DUCKED--and the arm drops down! He's got Static in a facelock! AND NOW A DDT! Devastation's just suckered Static in AGAIN! A THIRD hook of the leg! ONE! TWO! KICKOUT! Third time is NOT a charm for the Vicious Phenom! And the ref is preemptively explaining that it was a TWO count before Devastation can even PROTEST! Devastation seems to be weighing his options, here--and he pulls Static up halfway, then cinches his massive arms around Static's ribs--BEAR HUG, in the middle of the ring! Static's gasping in pain--Devastation's on one knee, lowering his centre of gravity to the point where Static can't hope to MOVE the bigger man! Static's turning red, his head and arms slackening--the ref's duty is now to check if he's passed out. Hoists the arm up, and it drops like a stone. "ONE!" Devastation, growling, shakes Static around do do a little more damage. "LET'S go STA-tic!", the crowd chants. Static's arm is pulled up, and drops almost as suddenly. "TWO!" More fevered chanting for Static. Devastation whipping Static back and forth for extra crushing damage. The ref raises Static's arm for the third and final time-- JACK JONES: This is IT! --and the arm drops, balls up a fist, and shoots straight back up again! The NAPW crowd is LOVING it! And now he shoots his OTHER fist in the air! Devastation is well aware of what's going on, and starts thrashing Static to and fro to slow him down again, but Static unleashes with a BELL CLAP! Both sides of Devastation's head coming out worse for wear there. A SECOND Bell Clap not only loosens Devastation's grip but dazes him, too. Static's free, but figures "what the hey." Bell Clap number THREE dazes him MORE. Static JUMPS to his feet, roars for the crowd-- "VIVA MI RAZA!" --hits the ropes, and comes off of his feet to nail the staggered Devastation with a Hurricanrana. The Rat Packer is sent flying, and Static, still looking flush, is nonetheless back into the game. Asai Moonsault, and this time, it CONNECTS! That's a pincover, ONE! TWO! UP goes Devastation's arm. Mahistrol Cradle pin--ONE! TWO! Kick-out! Grabs the legs--Compactor pin! ONE! TWO! Kick-out! And Static cartwheels to his feet, a nuts-eating grin on his face as the crowd roars its approval. BILL HEWSON: Static just send Devastation a REAL message just now, Jones! JACK JONES: What? That he can pin him for TWO? Devastation wastes NO time getting back onto his feet, and Static is ready for him--SPRINGBOARD DROPKICK off of the adjacent rope! Devastation drops, and Static chains into a Standing Leg Drop--Devastation rolls away! Both men are back on their feet, but the big man gets the initiative--tie-up, cinching Static's tights as a handle, and then hoists him up for a Vertical Supl--NO!! It's a GORDBUSTER! Static being slammed forward onto the mat like a sack full of Mars Bars! And now an elbow drop to the back of Static's head! Rolls him over into a cover! ONE! TWO! AND ANOTHER KICK-OUT! Devastation's wasting less and less time, and hoists Static up into an Inverted Fireman's Carry! JACK JONES: Here it comes--THE BURNING HAMMER! Except Static now makes like a worm and WIGGLES, wrapping his one leg around Devastation in a headscissors. The Rat Packer struggles to pull the leg off, while Static uses the moment of panic to try to pull off a Rana from his postion. Static slips around to Devastation's front, but gets caught by those big hands! POWERBOMB! But Static REFUSES to let go of the headscissors--it's a TRIANGLE CHOKE! Devastation realises what's going on and hits a SECOND powerbomb--but there's less force behind this one! Static's getting RATTLED but Devastation's FADING here-- BILL HEWSON: I'd say Static's pound-for-pound the tougher man tonight! JACK JONES: Don't just sit there, Dev, SQUISH HIM! --and in a desperation attempt, Devastation hoists Static up and runs to the edge of the ring, it's a POWERBOMB TO THE OUTSIDE--AND A HURRICANRANA TO BRING HIM ALONG! Both men are OUT of the RING, the crowd chanting "HOLY (BLEEP)!" Neither man is moving that much, and the ref's got no choice to start a ten-count! "ONE!" Static's showing some signs of life, here. TWO!" He's picking hmself up to his hands and knees. "THREE!" Static's rolling back onto the balls of his feet, and now Devastation's stirring! "FOUR!" Static's up and is trying to get his bearings! Devastation JERKS up to his knees! "FIVE!" Static's clearing the cobwebs--and Devastation's back on his feet! "SIX!" Devastation's CHARGING "SEVEN!" DROP TOE HOLD by Static sends Devastation into the RINGPOST "EIGHT!" Static slides back ito the ring "NINE!" Devastation's back on his feet "TEN!" They ring the bell, and Devastation's caught out at ringside! FRANK WARBURTON: Here is YOUR winner by COUNT OUT... STAAAAATIC! JACK JONES: RIP-OFF! And why is Static even STANDING! BILL HEWSON: They don't call him the Hardcore Luchadore for NOTHING, partner! Maybe all of his Mexican traning is actually WORTH something after all! JACK JONES: Aaaah, he got LUCKY. He might be in pain, but Static's back in the ring and basking in the crowd's wild applause, even going to the turnbuckle--WAIT A MINUTE! Devastation's still got PLENTY of life in him, and he's just slid into the ring with a steel chair! Static doesn't know it's coming--CRACK! The Vicious Phenom just PASTED him in the back! Static teeters, then flops limply backwards onto the canvas. The timekeeper's working furiously with the bell, but to no avail. Devastation winds up on the prone Static--CRACK! Another chair shot! BILL HEWSON: Don't DO it--he's DEFENSELESS... FINALLY, he's dropped that STEEL CHAIR! But immediately after doing so, he pulls the limp Static up into the Inverted Fireman's Carry--AND HE WALKS OVER TO WHERE THE STEEL CHAIR LANDED! HE'S GONNA--REX! REX CALIBER HAS RUN INTO THE RING!!! He's wearing his referee shirt but he's here to save his partner--Devastation turns around and TOSSES Static at him with a cross-body. Rex rolls with his partner to let him down gently, but Devastation merely uses that time to exit to ringside. Rex doesn't leave Static's side, running his mouth out on Devastation, who simply waves to Rex and walks to the back with a satisfied smile on his face.
BILL HEWSON: You just can't be happy for George Clooney, after all the crap films he... and we're back! And it's time for our next match! Flight of the Valkyries plays as Karl Van Helden makes his way to the ring. He shows a general disdain for the crowd as he climbs into the ring. JACK JONES: Just listen to these fans. No respect for such a fine athlete! BILL HEWSON: They give him as much respect as he's earned here in NAPW. Now his opponent, on the other hand... "Right Before My Eyes! Right Before My Eyes!" And D! bursts through the curtain, this time to a sizable pop from the crowd. D! breathes a sigh of relief and wipes mock seat from his brow before he runs to the ring. BILL HEWSON: Looks like the fans are happy to see the old D! back in form. JACK JONES: No accounting for taste. FRANK WARBURTON: The following contest is scheduled for ONE FALL! Introducing first, from GERMANY... He is KARL! VAN! HELDEN! And his opponent, hailing from EDMONTON... THIS! IS! DEEEEEEEEE! D! and Van Helden glare at each other. There's no real animosity between the two, but they both know that this match will greatly affect their standings in NAPW over the next few weeks. The bell rings and they lock up. Van Helden takes the advantage, and takes D! over with an arm drag. D! is quick to get back up, but is met with another arm drag, and Van Helden quickly capitalizes with a running knee to D!'s face. BILL HEWSON: A vicious shot from Van Helden! JACK JONES: He's got the right idea! Take D! down quick, take the fans out of it, then go for the kill. Smart wrestling. Van Helden slaps on a head lock, trying to keep D! grounded and weak. D! has other ideas, as he crawls to the ropes. Referee Dick Kiebiech calls for the break. Van Helden makes sure to milk all the time he can before releasing the hold, breaking on four. Van Helden smirks as he is admonished by Kiebiech, as D! tries to regain his composure. D! in the corner! Van Helden charges... and D! moves. Van Helden's chest crashes into the turnbuckle. He turns around, and is met with a kick. Then another. And another... And then the singing starts. JACK JONES: Someone stop this! This is inhumane! BILL HEWSON: D! has a five count to get his man out of the corner. JACK JONES: I mean the singing! As the crowd chants along with the CAN-CAN, D! finishes the Rockettes Kick of Doom, then finishes with a roundhouse punch, which sends Van Helden over the top rope. And the crowd seems to enjoy this. D! looks to be feeding off of the energy of the fans! He hits the ropes and... lands a perfect baseball slide into Van Helden's face! D! goes to the floor to retrieve his opponent, as Kiebiech starts the ten count. He rolls Van Helden back into the ring, then slaps on a sleeper. JACK JONES: Why is D! trying to slow the match down? BILL HEWSON: He's not, he's going for... Nyquil Driver! ... Or not. Van Helden manages to grab the top rope, and only D! crashes to the mat. Van Helden, acting on instinct, starts dropping elbows onto D!'s back and neck. He drags D! to his feet, then whips him into the corner... no wait, reversed by D! Van Helden crashes into the buckles and D! follows in with the Stinger Splash! BILL HEWSON: What a counter! JACK JONES: What a load of... BILL HEWSON: D!'s going for it! What is "It" you say? Well, Van Helden is staggered. He wobbles out of the corner. And D! is waiting. With a Beat O Barrage! A... Barrage of punches and kicks! And with one final heel kick, TAJIRI-STYLE, Van Helden is laying flat on the mat. D! covers and the crowd counts along! ONE! TWO! THREE! And the fans go wild. Yay. FRANK WARBURTON: Your winner by pinfall...D! BILL HEWSON: What a huge win for D! leading up to Sole Survivor! JACK JONES: He got lucky... and now the ratings are about to go UP! It's THE DON! Enter Don Travelli. Enter Big Boot to the back of D!'s head. Exit D!, to the mat. The Don goes to check on his sometimes tag partner, and the two proceed to put the boots to the fallen D! BILL HEWSON: What is this about? JACK JONES: Momentum! You gotta get it any way you can... um, did it suddenly go dark for you too? BILL HEWSON: The lights in the NAIT arena have gone out! JACK JONES: This is never good. Everytime the lights go off, SOMEBODY gets beaten up! The fans murmur in anticipation. The flash bulbs go off. Then the lights come back on. And in the middle of the ring stands the Predator. BILL HEWSON: The Predator is here! JACK JONES: He has no business interfering after the match! BILL HEWSON: But Travelli does? JACK JONES: Yes! Finally we agree on something! SPEAR SPEAR SPEAR ON VAN HELDEN --- KVH MOVES! Predator spears the post! Van Helden drags Predator away from the corner, setting him up for... a piledriver? Predator is too big, he'll never get him up... which is why Don Travelli is going to assist! Don Travelli helps Van Helden lift the massive Predator up, then they spike him to the mat. They proceed to kick the downed superstar... but D! has regained his senses! And a chair. The chair is what causes Travelli and Van Helden to flee. Oh, that chair. JACK JONES: Discretion the better part of valor for Travelli and Van Helden. Good work guys! You made an impact! Now use it to make bigger names for yourselves in NAPW! D! goes to check on the fallen Predator, who is already making his way to his feet. D! shaking his head just a little bit, but still smiling, claps Predator on the shoulder. BILL HEWSON: A show of gratitude from D! JACK JONES: But Predator has no time for it! Predator charges out of the ring, going after Van Helden and Travelli. D! looks puzzled. But then his music hits, and his hand is raised in victory, so all is well. He leaves the ring to celebrate with the fans.
BILL HEWSON: Fascinating. But we're back on Monday Night Fights, and we're in for one heck of a match! During the break, Terry Brandon has made his way down to the ring, to a mixed reaction. He's handed over his shiny metal briefcase to the ring official, who has helped a pair of tech guys put up a POLE in the corner of the ring. FRANK WARBURTON: Ladies and Gentlemen, the following match is a POLE MATCH for the contract of TERRY BRANDON! JACK JONES: How demeaning! Terry Brandon is a legend in our time, Bill Hewson. This is a farce, especially considering Chris Casino is a WINNER, and LoboŐs just a big LOSER. BILL HEWSON: What?! He's the Television Champion! "Super Charger Heaven" blares over the sound system, and Lobo, wearing the Television Championship belt, makes his way to the ring, looking all business. There's a mixed reaction from the crowd, but Lobo pays them no mind. He looks pointedly at the pole rising from one of the turnbuckles, where Terry Brandon's shiny silver briefcase hangs. JACK JONES: Take a long, last look at that briefcase. And then, the soothing sounds of Frank Sinatra hit the air-waves and Chris Casino struts out of the back, also to a mixed reaction. He hits the ring in his own damn time, and sneers at Lobo. Lobo, in turn, hangs his title belt in Casino's face with a huge sardonic grin, and Casino's sneer fades a bit. BILL HEWSON: Chris Casino doesn't seem to like being reminded that he's not currently a title belt holder. JACK JONES: No, he just doesn't like the fact that Lobo's sullying a title belt. Casino has RESPECT for those titles, Bill Hewson. BILL HEWSON: Oh, brother. FRANK WARBURTON: The winner of this match is determined by the first man to climb up and retrieve the CONTRACT BRIEFCASE from the top of the pole. Introducing first, from TORONTO, OOONTARIO. Weighing in at THREE HUNDRED and TEN pounds... he is your TELEVISION CHAMPION... LOOOOBOOOO. And his opponent, from LAS VEGAS, NEVADA. Weighing in at TWO HUDRED and TWENTY pounds... CHRIISSSSS CAAASINNOOO! And there's the bell! Lobo lunges at Chris Casino, but the smaller man ducks aside, hits the ropes... SPRINGBOARD... onto the POLE! Casino clambers towards the briefcase trying to end this early... but Lobo CATCHES him by the back of the trunks and literally HURLS him onto the mat with a thud! Terry Brandon cringes at ringside. BILL HEWSON: Such power! Lobo goes after Casino, trying to retain an early advantage, but Chris Casino is back on his feet quickly, and scrambles out of the ring and away from the man with the HUNDRED POUND advantage. Lobo hangs at the ropes and shouts down at Casino how much of a coward he is. JACK JONES: Don't shout at Casino, stupid! Grab the contract! This is your Television Champion? Casino waits until the referee pulls Lobo away from the ropes, then climbs into the ring. As soon as he gets into the ring, Lobo charges him, but Casino is again too fast for him! He sidesteps into a sweet legsweep, and the giant topples into the ropes! Lobo hangs there, momentarily stunned, and Casino hops onto the turnbuckle... and DROPKICKS lobo, right in the spine! The huge Olympian writhes in pain, and Chris Casino presses his assault. He grabs hold of Lobo's face, sticks a knee in his spine, and CRANKS back on his head, laughing the whole time. ItŐs essentially a camel clutch, and Lobo cries out in pain, and flails at the ropes. JACK JONES: This is why Chris Casino is a TRUE champion, Bill Hewson. He's isolating LoboŐs back, like the Wrestling Surgeon he is! Lobo can't win if he canŐt climb that pole. Thanks for the update, Jack Attack. Meanwhile, Lobo's caught the ropes and Casino's been forced to break his hold. The huge man is trying to regain his feet, clutching at his back in pain, but Casino continues his onslaught. He lands a kick in Lobo's back, then pulls the huge man to his feet... leaps... HURACANRANA! Lobo lands unceremoniously on his head, looks woozy, and drops. Chris Casino smirks at the crowd and then looks pointedly at the suspended briefcase. Terry Brandon hops up on the apron and beckons Casino to hurry over. BILL HEWSON: What's this?! JACK JONES: I told you, Terry Brandon wants to be associated with a WINNER. Casino rushes over and begins clambering up to the briefcase, and Terry Brandon hops down from the apron before the referee even asks. Casino tries to reach up to grab the contract, but behind him Lobo rises to a pop from the crowd. The behemoth lumbers, still a little woozy, towards Casino and lands a ham-sized fist into the former champion's back. Chris Casino, to his credit, clings to the pole like a leech, shaking his head "no!" Lobo strikes again, and Casino arms give a little bit... just enough for Lobo to climb up onto the second rope behind Casino, hook in the DRAGON SLEEPER... Casino howls... REVERSE DDT! Right off the pole! And Lobo holds on... and there's the GRAPEVINE! That sleeper hold is LOCKED, and Chris Casino flails wildly! JACK JONES: There's no submission victory in this match! Where's the ref! Illegal hold! They're too close to the ropes, and Chris Casino catches on, forcing Lobo to let go of the hold. He coughs and clutches at his throat, while Lobo scrambles to his feet and hits the pole running! His outstretched fingers are AAAALMOOOST touching the briefcase... DROPKICK! With pinpoint accuracy, square in Lobo's spine! The giant reels, but lands on his feet. Casino spins him around... toe kick... hooks Lobo's head! BRAINBUSTER... no! Casino tries again... SNAP... NO! Lobo's too heavy! Casino can't suplex him! Lobo grunts, and gives a mighty SHOVE, sending Chris Casino FLYING... RIGHT INTO THE REFEREE! BILL HEWSON: Oh NO! The ring official's been knocked into the turnbuckle! HeŐs... he's out COLD! The crowd goes into BOOING OVERTIME! Chris Casino looks down with mock surprise at the KO'd ref, and then his face splits into a sinister smile. He turns in time to duck a clothesline attempt from Lobo. Lobo uses the ropes to reboundÉ but catches a SUPERKICK right in the kisser! The large man staggers, and topples with a crash to the mat. Terry Brandon rushes to the timekeeper's table, and grabs... the TELEVISION CHAMPIONSHIP! He hits the ring apron and tosses the belt to Chris Casino, who laughs and turns to where Lobo is slowly rising. He crouches down, daring Lobo to take his feet, while Brandon hits the turnbuckle where the contract is suspended and climbs swiftly to where he can reach the briefcase! He tugs on it a few times, and the BREIFCASE COMES FREE! BILL HEWSON: NO! NO! NOT LIKE THIS! Lobo has staggered to his feet, seeing stars, and turns towards Casino, the crowd awash in boos! Casino laughs maniacally, takes one step towards LoboÉ AND GETS A METAL BRIEFCASE FULL IN THE FACE! JACK JONES: NO! NO! NOT LIKE THIS! Casino spins in place, drops the belt, and falls SPLAT on his face! The crowd goes WILD! Terry Brandon grabs the title belt, tosses the loaded briefcase to Lobo, and scrambles out of the ring... just as the official regains consciousness! Lobo collapses into the corner with the pole, clutching the briefcase close to his chest! The referee looks over, holding his head, and sees Lobo with the briefcase! He's calling for the bell! FRANK WARBURTON: Ladies and gentlemen, here is your winner... LOOOBOOOO! The crowd is cheering as Terry Brandon hits the ring with the belt again, and helps Lobo to his feet. Lobo is practically in tears as the two men embrace... and then Brandon turns and PROUDLY holds Lobo's hand high in victory! JACK JONES: Terry! No! Think of your career! BILL HEWSON: I might not like how this went down, Jack Attack, but I canŐt say I'm disappointed with the outcome. Chris Casino begins coming to his senses as Lobo and Brandon vacate the ring to the ovation of the crowd... and that's when DEVASTATION slides into the ring. The cheers of the crowd become jeers as Devastation, freshly showered and wearing track pants, stands over Casino with a look of utter contempt on his face. Chris Casino... can't even meet his mentor's gaze, and slinks out of the ring with Devastation right behind him, shaking his head in disgust. BILL HEWSON: Oh, how the mighty have fallen. JACK JONES: This is a sad day for the NAPW, Bill Hewson. Mark my words... a sad day.
JACK JONES: You mean, Terry Brandon and Lobo screwed Chris Casino over! I've known Terry for twenty years, and I don't know what the hell is going on in his mind. He's ditched CHRIS FREAKING CASINO for... LOBO? FOR LOBO? BILL HEWSON: It seems that in the end, Lobo's claims that Terry Brandon is his long-lost father are true, and Terry Brandon sided with his son. And Chris Casino loses only his third singles match, this one coming just two weeks after Billy Kryenik pinned him as well. I don't know about you, Jack Attack, but for all his bluster I don't think Devastation has been any help to Chris Casino's career! Chris Casino is one of the most dominating men in NAPW history...until his 'mentor' arrived here! JACK JONES: Well, it's...all part of the plan, Bill Hewson. You see. Chris Casino go billy berzerk! BILL HEWSON: ... yes. But it is now time for our main event of the evening, and what a match this is going to be! Right in one, Bill Hewson, because here comes REX CALIBER. "Even More Human Than Human" plays the 245pound (bleep)hammer out to roaring applause. Caliber is wearing a torn-sleeve referee t-shirt and his wrestling tights, and oh yeah, he's bringing out with him the Canada Cup! Caliber holds it over his head in the middle of the aisle and soaks up the cheers of the crowd with a big grin plastered on his bearded face. He puts the Trophy in front of Hewson & Jones announce desk, twenty feet from the ring (TNA Impact style), giving a big thumps up to Jones & Hewson, and then heads into the ring. He hits the corners, and then... It's FINCH, and to the rhythm and the rock comes MINSTREL, the Jokeman himself! He's in lime-green and purple tights and the greek tragedy mask, both eyes x'd out. The crowd showers him with boos, and Minstrel takes a deep bow. And now he's thanking the Academy? Minstrel is apparently giving an Oscar acceptance speech walking down the aisle! And skipping. Now he's skipping. Yep. JACK JONES: I heard Minstrel really did win an Oscar, Hewson. BILL HEWSON: Oh? For what? JACK JONES: Yeah, it was the "Best Lunatic" award. BILL HEWSON: ...you're not even trying tonight, are you? JACK JONES: Not really. Minstrel hits the ring and leans over the top rope, giving himself the thumbs down and nodding vigorously. And then...Strings. Build-up. RAVAGER. The heavyweight champion strides through the curtain with the Title belt around his waist, black towel over his head, looking completely focused. Tiffany Macintyre is at his side in a dark business suit, and the two make their way to ringside. The crowd gives them a favorable response, although some of the fans are not all too happy with Tiffany's ditching of The Dudes or how Ravager won the belt. It's worth noting that Rex Caliber's pop is that much bigger then Ravager's. The champion gets in the ring, unfazed, and never takes his eyes off of Minstrel. He slowly undoes the title belt, handing it off to referee Dick Kiebiech. Kiebiech holds it up for the audience to see before passing it off to the timekeeper's table. And now it's Frank Warburton, ready to announce the main event. FRANK WARBURTON: It is now time for the NAPW Monday Night Fights MAIN EVENT, and it is a MEXICAN DEATH MATCH for the Heavyweight Championship! Falls will count anywhere in the building, and after a three count, the pinned man will have a standing ten count to regain his feet. Only when a pinned man does NOT respond to the standing-ten count will the match end! And now, introducing first, the SPECIAL GUEST REFEREE for the contest! He is the 2006 CANADA CUP winner, and the man who will challenge for the Heavyweight Title in two weeks at SOLE SURVIVOR! I give you...THE NEXUS ONE! REX! CALIBERRRRRRR! BILL HEWSON: And again, a tremendous ovation for the Canada Cup winner! JACK JONES: So who do you think Rex is going to favor in this match-up, Hewson? BILL HEWSON: I don't think he's going to favor either man. Caliber's said he'll call it straight down the middle, and I expect him to do just that. FRANK WARBURTON: And now, the combatants! To my right, wearing green and purple, he is the NUMMBERRRR ONNNNNE CONTENDER to the Heavyweight title! He weighed in this morning at two-hundred and twenty one pounds. From Parts Unknown...THIS! ISSSSSS! MINNNNNNSTRELLLLLLL! His opponent... accompanied to the ring by his business manager Tiffany Macintyre.... he is the REIGNING NAPW Heavyweight Champion, and a two-time Provincial Champion. He weighed in this morning at two-hundred and ten pounds! Ladies and gentlemen, I give you... RAAAAAVVVAGGERRRRR! DING DING DING. And it's ON. Minstrel giggles and Ravager stares him down, and now it's on! No love lost between these two men, and no time wasted. Ravager gaining the upper-hand on Minstrel in the corner with a series of vicious open-hand chops, and now he sends Minstrel for the ride to the opposite corner! Minstrel hits sternum first, stumbles back --- DRAGON SUPLEX! Minstrel fights out and counters into an INVERTED DDT --- Ravager won't let him hit it, he turns himself around, Minstrel could DDT him traditionally, but Ravager hoists him up and then nails an inverted Atomic Drop. Minstrel's knees lock together and he gingerly tip-toes around the ring... and Ravager with a STIFF lariat as soon as Minstrel faces him again. Minstrel pops up immediately, gives Ravager the thumbs up, and promptly collapses. Ravager goes for a quick cover, that gets THREE! Minstrel has been pinned...already? Rex Caliber starts counting, One, Two, and Minstrel is up that quickly. Ravager starts towards him. Minstrel suddenly swoons and collapses, to the surprise of Ravager. Ravager shrugs and pins him, one, two...THREE? Minstrel gets pinned AGAIN! Rex Caliber and Ravager exchange a glance and Rex begins counting. One, and Minstrel's up again. He blows a raspberry at Ravager. Ravager's had about enough, he swings at Minstrel, who ducks and goes for a russian leg sweep, Ravager blocks that with a back elbow...that apparently breaks Minstrel's jaw. Minstrel collapses to the canvas, twitching like a dead fish. Ravager looks at Minstrel --- looks at Rex --- looks at the crowd --- and smirks sadistically. He makes to go in for the pin. ONE! TWO! Ravager... HAULS MINSTREL UP! BELLY-TO-BELLY SUPLEX SENDS MINSTREL OUTSIDE OF THE RING! Minstrel allll the way to concrete below! BILL HEWSON: Minstrel obviously playing mind games with Ravager, but the champion got wise to them. And now the match has gone outside, where falls DO count anywhere! JACK JONES: We know the rules, Hewson. Check out how Minstrel landed on the back of his head! Indeed, Minstrel looks fairly dazed as Ravager drops down and goes to work, slamming Minstrel into the guardrail up the aisle. The champion then throws a few vicious chops into Minstrel's chest before hooking Minstrel into a Russian Leg Sweep --- INTO THE GUARDRAIL! Minstrel in danger here, Ravager covers, one, two, no! Minstrel not playing that game anymore, but he's holding the back of his head, which has been nailed twice now. Ravager immediately hauls Minstrel back up and wraps his arms around Minstrel's waist! Ravager is going to German Suplex Minstrel on the concrete! And NOW Minstrel starts fighting, trying to block, he reaches back jams his thumb into Ravager's eye. That buys him a moment's time, and it's all Minstrel needs to leap on the guardrail and then MOONSAULT off onto Ravager! Minstrel caught him square! Cover on the concrete, Rex Caliber counts one, two, Ravager kicks out. Minstrel pouts for three seconds, but then starts kicking Ravager in the ribs. Possibly Minstrel remembers that D! targetted the ribs in their title match weeks ago, they may still be tender. Ravager lashes out with a backhand, but Minstrel stiffs him in the face. Minstrel hooks Ravager and irish whips back him back to the ring --- Ravager puts on the brakes --- Minstrel's running towards the ring. But Minstrel slides low and underneath the ring instead of crashing into it! Ravager flips up the ring apron, but Minstrel's already scampered out the other side. Minstrel slides in the ring and rushes Ravager with a baseball slide! Ravager simply moves out of the way, waits for Minstrel take his feet on the concrete, and boots Minstrel in the gut. The champion then grabs Minstrel by the back of the tights and beale tosses him right into the steel steps! The noise echoes through the arena and Minstrel, again, has smashed the back of his head into the steps. Ravager then goes to the guardrail, shoving it back from the ring, yelling at the fans to "MOVE!". The front row scatters, and Ravager goes back to Minstrel. Minstrel gets bealed right over the guardrail into the front row, slamming into chairs! Ravager steps over the guardrail and picks up a steel folding chair. He preps it, waits for Minstrel to get up, annnnd... CRASH! BILL HEWSON: GOOD GOD! Minstrel had his head damn near taken off by that chair shot! That could be all right here! JACK JONES: I think Minstrel may be out, Hewson! Ravager hooks a leg, and Rex Caliber is there to make the pinfall. ONE! TWO! And THREE! Minstrel is down, and now Rex Caliber begins counting. ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! FIVE...Minstrel is trying to stand, he's almost there...SIX! SEVEN! Minstrel is on his feet! He looks woozy from that chair shot, but Ravager immediately hooks him from behind! DRAGON SUPLEX ON THE CONCRETE! And that's gotta be all! Minstrel folds up like an accordion. Ravager hooks the leg, Rex Caliber's there to count the fall, and that's a three count! Minstrel must have a concussion by now, as Rex Caliber begins another standing ten count. Ravager sits backwards on one of the ringside seats, glaring intently at Minstrel. ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! FIVE! Minstrel looks out! SIX! SEVEN! EIGHT! Hold on! NINE! Annnnd...MINSTREL! Somehow! Is back on his feet, but he may not know where he is. Ravager audibly swears and kicks a chair over in frustration. JACK JONES: I don't think Minstrel knows where he is, Bill Hewson. Ravager's dropped him on the back of his about FOUR times in this match now! BILL HEWSON: Ravager's stipulation is almost backfiring on him, now! If it was a simple falls count anywhere match, it would be over, but Minstrel's somehow been able to answer the standing ten count, even after that sick Dragon Suplex. JACK JONES: This is personal, Bill Hewson. Minstrel's beat Ravager twice, Ravager's never beaten Minstrel. And Minstrel's been threatening to go after Ravager's niece... BILL HEWSON: Hold on, what's the champion going for now? Ravager bends down and hooks Minstrel, lofting the challenger up...MINSTREL IS GOING TO EAT THE MUSCLE BUSTER. On the CONCRETE. Wait a second! Minstrel somehow wiggles out, falls back and delivers a falling neckbreaker on the way down! Minstrel had no choice but to counter the Muscle Buster --- he risked not only losing the match, but the possible end of his career if he took that on the outside. And now both men are down, Rex Caliber...well, can't do much of anything. There's no DQ, no count-out in this falls count anywhere death match. The Nexus One seems content to watch and wait as both wrestlers slowly begin to take their feet. Ravager makes if first, and he immediately grabs Minstrel again, one more Dragon Suplex --- Minstrel's trick knee acts up and Ravager takes a leg to the crotch. Ravager collapses in intense pain, while Minstrel ... also collapses? He's exhibiting sympathy pain, apparently. But not for too long, as Minstrel grabs a steel chair himself and smashes it across the fallen Ravager! Minstrel AGAIN! And AGAIN! Holy SHIT! SHOT! SHOT! Shades of AUSTIN at Wrestlemania XVII! And Minstrel...laughing, cackling LOUDER, LOUDER with every chair shot on Ravager! Minstrel isn't even catching all of each shot but he's just wearing Ravager out! Minstrel has the chair now, jamming it into Ravager's ribs repeatedly! "HAAAAAHAAHAHAHAHAHA!" Quite clearly, Ravager turning into a quivering mass of jelly is one of the most amusing things Minstrel's ever seen. Ravager is in a bad way here, as Minstrel has a second wind. Minstrel sloppily sends Ravager back over to the guardrail. Now Minstrel pushes the guardrail closer to the ring, before getting up on the ring apron! BILL HEWSON: Ravager is laying on the concrete, he's not going anywhere, where is Minstrel going...he's on the top rope! GOOD LORD, he isn't----! JACK JONES: HOLY HELL! BILL HEWSON: THE KILLING JOKE! THE KILLING JOKE FROM THE TOP TO THE OUTSIDE! Minstrel put his own body on the line to take Ravager out! THere's the cover...ONE! TWO! THREE! Ravager has been pinned! JACK JONES: No KIDDING. Minstrel himself is in pain, smashing his head into Ravager's ribs with such velocity --- not to mention the rest of his body slapping the concrete. But it's Ravager whom Rex Caliber is counting out now! ONE! TWO! THREE! Tiffany has come over, and she's trying to rouse Ravager, Caliber warns her not to touch him! Tiffany trying to get Ravager up, encourage him, yell at him. FOUR! FIVE! SIX! Ravager is stirring! SEVEN! EIGHT! Ravager is...NINE! UP to his feet! Ravager still has fight left in him THE MINSTREL! With a complete BLINDSIDE steel chair shot to the back of Ravager's head! Ravager collapses on top of Tiffany! Tiffany is caught under Ravager's limp form. Minstrel is giggling madly, making the "SHAME, SHAME" motion with his fingers. Tiffany scrambles out from under Ravager --- MINSTREL just grabbed her by the hair! Minstrel has Tiffany by the hair, what the hell is this? SHE'S NOT A WRESTLER! Minstrel has Tiffany, INVERTED DDT --- REX CALIBER! Caliber just HAULED Minstrel around and is telling him to let Tiffany the hell go! Minstrel pouts beneath his mask and stomps his foot in a temper tantrum, but lets her go. BILL HEWSON: Thank God. Rex Caliber is not a fan of Tiffany, not after he dumped Rex's good friends THE DUDES, but there's no place for Minstrel to attack Tiffany in this match! JACK JONES: But the fans CHEER the guy who dragon suplexed her three weeks ago. Y'know. BILL HEWSON: ... Truly a strange situation, but I don't think the fans would forgive Minstrel quite as easily. Minstrel turns his attention back to Ravager, and picks him up. INVERTED DDT! He covers Ravager! ONE! TWO! THHHHH----Ravager kicks out! Minstrel going after Tiffany gave Ravager time to recover! Minstrel covers again, ONE, TWO, Kick out. Minstrel sticks his fists on his hips and tosses his head, clearly not happy by that. Clearly. I mean, seriously. But Minstrel...reaches into his tights? What is this? Ravager is getting to his feet amidst scattered chairs and fans garbage, the fans deeply into this match. Ravager is up, and he looks at Minstrel...RAVAGER GRABS MINSTREL and gets ready to punch his lights out! Minstrel holds up a photograph! Ravager stops dead in his tracks. Minstrel cackles, and now is saying something to Ravager! "Hey buddy, recognize this? It's your NIECE, isn't it! Oh that's so sweet! Unfortunately for you, she won't look so recognizable if you don't lay down right now! Oh yes, buddy, it's over! I win! You're done for!" Rex Caliber looks on, thus far he has been completely impartial. Ravager's fist wavers in the air, and then...good lord. Ravager lets Minstrel go and drops down. Minstrel laughs gleefully and puts a foot on top of Ravager's chest, what a humiliating pinfall. ONE! TWO! THREE! Ravager has been pinned. Rex Caliber looks down at Ravager, as Minstrel hops the guardrail and rushes to the the timekeeper's table. He grabs the title belt, and begins rubbing his cheek on it as though it's a kitty cat or something. Ravager stays down, gritting his teeth, and Rex Caliber has no choice but to count. This is academic now, Ravager must stay down for the safety of his niece. ONE. TWO. THREE. FOUR. FIVE. SIX. SEVEN. EIGHT. NINE. TEN----- BILL HEWSON: Wait a minute! Ravager kipped up just before ten! What is he doing? WHAT THE HELL IS HE DOING? JACK JONES: What a bastard, freaking putting the life of his family on the line for his title! Minstrel is celebrating "with" the fans near the timekeeper's table, rubbing his nose on the belt. He truly is treating it like it's a pet. Tiffany meets Ravager, they have a quick head-to-head, and Tiffany pulls a...photograph out of her suit jacket? Ravager takes, and Tiffany backs off. Rex Caliber is busy with an autograph session for his "FREAKS OF NATURE", looks over at Ravager, and shrugs. Rex is content to let the two men work their crap out together. Minstrel is celebrating, turns around...and Ravager is standing with a grin on his face. Or what passes for a grin. With the photograph thrust forward. The cameraman is able to get a fairly clear shot of the photograph that has now stopped Minstrel in his tracks. In the picture is Lisa Hordem --- the woman Minstrel sent to Ravager's family --- tied to a chair, with duct tape on her mouth, in a dank basement. And several people who bear a family resemblance to Ravager, all dressed in similar black suits and sunglasses, surround her. Minstrel would be blanching, if his face wasn't covered with a mask. He looks back up at Ravager---BAM! Ravager nails him in the face! Minstrel scrambles, his major advantage taken away by Ravager's organized crime family! Ravager follows him up, gleeful vengeance in his face. Minstrel begs off, Ravager smokes him. Minstrel scrambles, trying now to get away, but he gets a kick in the face from Tiffany Macintyre's sharp heel! Ravager seizes Minstrel and sends him alllll the way over to Jack & Bill's announce table! Ravager bashes Minstrel's face into it repeatedly, and then rolls Minstrel on top of it. Ravager follows, pulling Minstrel up. Front-face lock...Ravager is going for the INSTANT KARMA SUPER BRAINBUSTER! On top of the announce table! Good God! Ravager hoists Minstrel up! Minstrel kicks his legs out, Ravager can't keep his balance... GOOD LORD! BOTH MEN TUMBLE OFF THE TABLE TO THE CONCRETE! And it's a SICK LANDING! Ravager...Minstrel...both men are laid out! Minstrel is on top of Ravager, but on his back, and HIS shoulders are off of Ravager on the concrete! Rex looks at them...he starts slapping the concrete with both hands! ONE! TWO! THREE! And...now Rex is counting! BILL HEWSON: Neither man is moving! HOLY GOD, NEITHER MAN IS MOVING! JACK JONES: But uh...WHO IS REX COUNTING OUT? ONE...TWO...THREE...NEITHER MAN IS MOVING! FOUR...FIVE... TIFFANY is trying to help Ravager up, but Rex shoves her off, saying he's gotta do it on his own...SIX...SEVEN...EIGHT...Ravager is stirring, he's getting up...NINE...RAVAGER COLLAPSES...TEN! BILL HEWSON: But...but who won? WHO IS THE HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION? Rex Caliber goes over to Warburton with a big goofy grin on his face, he seems amused by something or another. Warburton goes to announce, and Rex grabs the microphone from him with a goofy wink. REX CALIBER: I'd like to announce to alllll my Freaks Of Nature out there that it looked to me --- REX CALIBER, CANADA CUP CHAMPION --- that both men had shoulders down, and both men stayed down for ten, so I'm calling this match a DRAW, BABY! The crowd begins to boo. But Rex puts a finger to his lips and shushes them. REX CALIBER: So I figure that means that at SOLE SURVIVOR, I said I didn't care if it was Ravager! I didn't care if it was Minstrel! And you know what, I don't know what old Winchell's going to do, but I don't care if I take on BOTH MEN AT ONCE! No, not that way you sickos! What do you think, NAPW fans --- REX CALIBER! MINSTREL! RAVAGER! TRIPLE-THREAT FOR THE HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP! Everybody who says yes, FREE DRINKS AT THE NEXUS ONE SPORTS CLUB --- only domestic beer and bar brand hi-balls! HUGE CHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEERS! BILL HEWSON: We...we have a draw! Ravager would retain the title on a draw! But Minstrel...will it be a triple-threat at Sole Survivor? What an unprecedented finish to Monday Night Fights! For Jack Jones, I'm Bill Hewson saying GOOD NIGHT!
Tiffany has helped Ravager up by this point, and the champion is beginning to walk. Minstrel lies on the concrete, half-conscious, giggling to himself. Rex Caliber has his Canada Cup trophy in the middle of the ring, celebrating with his freaks of nature! And that's the show!
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