MONDAY. NIGHT. FIGHTS.05/15/2006
Turn on the telly in Edmonton. Flip to City TV. Put your feet up. The monitor grows black. Beep. Beep. Beep. The pulse quickens! The beeping rising! And then four letters begin to flash on the screen in tune with the ElectroCardiogram! N... A... P... W... Flatline. BOOM.
"LET'S GET THIS OVER WITH! Nearly 1000 screaming fans have jampacked the Polish Hall in Edmonton, Alberta, Canada for the one, the only NAPW MONDAY NIGHT FIGHTS. Cut to Bill Hewson & Jack "Attack" Jones, at their announce desk halfway up the aisle. Bill Hewso is as always, professional in the OLD SCHOOL announcer style. Jack Attack? All polyester, baby. It never goes out of style. BILL HEWSON: Welcome... to the May Fifteenth edition of Monday Night Fights! Whether you're tuning in on the internet or on City TV right here in Edmonton, one thing is for certain: THIS... is New Alberta Pro Wrestling! I'm Bill Hewson alongside Jack "Attack" Jones, bringing you all the play-by-play for the evening. JACK JONES: And what a show it's going to be, Bill Hewson. We're on electric avenue! The provincial title is on the line! The heavyweight title is on the line! And hey, Bill Hewson, D-X is in action tonight! Stylin' Kyle Roberts & "The Beast" Bruce Richards! BILL HEWSON: D-X taking on The Delivery Men, who have been experiencing quite a bit of drama on their own. Evan Cartwright will challenge "The Lemondrop Kid" Lloyd Rees for the PRovincial title in a TWO out of THREE falls match. It's the third encounter between those two men, the last being that outstanding ladder match at Complete Control, but tonight it's the rubber match - it's put up or shut up. "United! Ninety! Three!" BILL HEWSON: But right now, here comes Billy Kryenik for a PURE HONOR match-up! Let's go the ring! FRANK WARBURTON: The following PURE HONOR division match-up is scheduled for ONE FALL! Introducing first, from Windsor Ontario...weighing two-hundred and forty-one pounds! BILLLLLLY KRYENNNNNNIK! Kryenik hits the ring, tag title belt around his waist. The crowd is lovin' it, and the former Doomrider looks to be in a good mood, his eyes betraying a deep intensity. He tests the ropes, limbering up for the contest. His music fades out... and DJ Shadow blast-beats into the building. Patrick Bickle enters accompanied by Mr. Maps. They confer briefly at the entrance way and Mr. Maps turns around and exits. Bickle stares straight ahead, seemingly in a dream like state as he walks to the ring. BILL HEWSON: Patrick Bickle choosing to go it alone here tonight. JACK JONES: Just imagine what it will do for Patrick Bickle's career here tonight, when he defeats one-half of the tag team champions in a Pure Honor match! Talk about a way to get noticed in NAPW! FRANK WARBURTON: And his opponent, from New York, New York! Weighing in at one-hundred and seventy-five pounds... PATRIIIIICK BICKLLLLLLE! Both men shake hands as the bell rings to begin the contest. Billy, in high spirits, puts his hand forward and spreads his fingers, signaling he'd like a test of strength. Bickle grins and quickly goes to lace his fingers into his opponents', then puts his other hand up. Billy completes the circuit, and it's ON. Kryenik, the larger of the two men, pushing the lighter Bickle back, bending Bickle's hands back. Bickle grunts and stiffens his legs, refusing to give up another inch. Bickle's locked in his spot, his calf muscles straining, while Kryenik redoubles his efforts and twists Bickle's hands back. And then--Bickle, his hands bent backwards, starts PUSHING BACK. Kryenik, astonished, finds himself stumbling back. He grits his teeth, applies more pressure-and Bickle pushes MORE. BILL HEWSON: That's--that's INSANE! Bickle could have his hands snapped off at any second! And ultimtely--a little a first, but ending into a full charge, Bickle CHARGES, pushing Kryenik HARD into the corner turnbuckle. Both men are maintaining the tie-up, however, and it's fairly academic that the referee floats over and orders them to break the tie. No rope break here, they're just in the corner... both men comply, reluctantly, Bickle shaking the feeling back in his hands--and a HEADBUTT! Bickle RAMS his forehead into Kryenik's nose! The referee admonishes Bickle, but Kryenik's stunned in the corner--Irish Whip from Bickle plucks him out and sends him careening into the OTHER corner. Bickle drops to a three-point stance, then starts charging, full speed, into Kryenik and the corner--SPEAR! JACK JONES: I'd be awful hesitant to call that a spear. When I Spear someone, I use my SHOULDER to make the impact. Bickle just used his HEAD. And sure enough, just as Billy Kryenik doubls over in pain, Bickle himself is thrashingon the mat, clutching his neck. BILL HEWSON: What's going ON here? Bickle's KILLING himself with his own offense, and Kryenik can't seem to COUNTER it! JACK JONES: And it's not even ON yet, partner! Bickle POUNDS the mat in fury, and FORCES himself to come to. With Kryenik lying stunned in the corner, Bickle draws his hand back--WHOO! No closed fist here, as Bickle lights up Billy's chest with a resounding chop. WHOO! Kryenik SPRINGS to life--grabbing Bickle, he swiches around and puts HIM in the corner--and it's Billy's turn to CHOP! WHOO! CHOP! WHOO! CHOP! WHOO! The ref's arguing Billy back, and he backs off, agreeing... and the unleashes with a lariat into Bickle's throat. Bickle stumbles out, and Sick Billy's got an opening--Running Bulldog takes Patrick Bickle down. Kryenik pounces on his opponent, and slips the arms into a Full Nelson--it's a Sugar Hold on Bickle, stretching out the neck that he's self-injured--Bickle forces himself onto his hands and knees, but that just allows Kryenik to stretch the neck FURTHER. Bickle then WRENCHES himself up to his knees, lifting Kryenik with him--- BILL HEWSON: Oh. GOD. --and the Sugar Hold's slipped into a more familiar Full Nelson, although the effect's no less debilitating to Bickle in the centre of the ring. But Bickle's forcing himself up to his feet, even as Kryenik maintains the hold, and keeps pressuring him downwards--and then, THE UNEXPECTED. Patrick Bickle jack-knifes his legs--SIT-OUT FULL NELSON SLAM! On Bickle--but Bickle STARTED IT? The impact jogs the hold loose, but Kryenik's doing leagues better than his opponent, and goes for a cover--ONE! TWO! KICK-OUT! Patrick Bickle is NOT out! JACK JONES: Definitely unorthodox tactic from Bickle--trading a HOLD for a SLAM--but it seems to have worked! Kryenik pounds the mat in frustration--his opponent's certainly proving to be a challenge so far. He's hooking Bickle's leg against his, seems like he's going for his patended Branch Breaker hold--AND WHAM! An uncontested, unexpected hard STRIKE right between Billy's eyes! FRANK WARBURTON: By means of a CLOSED FIST, Patrick Bickle has lost his FIRST! ROPE BREAK! BILL HEWSON: Bickle may have sacrificed his first break, but that one punch SUCKERED Billy! He's DAZED! JACK JONES: Smart psychology from the unorthodox Bickle, doing soemthing unexpected at the right moment! Bickle's on his feet here, grasping Kryenik with a collar-and-elbow tie-up--SWINGING NECKBREAKER! Here comes the cover, ONE! TWO--SHOULDER UP! Kryenik beat the three-count, but Bickle doesn't seem too broken up about it--grabbing Kryenik by the HEAD, he slowly pulls him up to standing--FIREMAN'S CARRY... TAKEOVER, sending Kryenik to his back again in a quick slam. Bickle chains it into a quick elbow drop, and then a second. Getting to his feet, Bickle sends himself off of the ropes, Kryenik's still on the ground... FALLING HEADBUTT to Krenik's forehead, and we have a meeting of the minds! Bickle may be in agony, but SO IS KRYENIK! And Bickle has the presence of mind to crawl over to Kryenik's throat--and drop his forearm on it! That's an illegal choke! The ref's administering the count--ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! FI--the forearm is lifted at four-and-a-half, Bickle very NEARLY getting himself disqualified! JACK JONES: Boy, just when you thought you had all the answers, eh, Hewson? We've seen Kryenik as dominant in so many contests, but he's NEVER faced anyone as sick, as insane as Patrick Bickle before! How do you beat someone who'll HURT themseves just to GET at you? Pain don't mean NOTHIN' to Bickle! BILL HEWSON: Kryenik's definitely going to need to rethink his strategy tonight--raw damage isn't going to win himself the match! He's going to have to work STRATEGICALLY to get the win against Bickle--but as beat-up as the Tag Team champ is, I wonder if he'll REALIZE that? If he'll MAKE that judgement call? Bickle now climbing the top turnbuckle--he's got malice on his mind--and Kryenik's lying prone on the ground! Mr. Maps, at ringside, sighs and gets his medical kit ready--FROG SPLASH--INTO THE MAT! Kryenik SOMEHOW, SOME WAY rolled OUT of the path of destruction, leaving Bickle to slam his own ribs into the boards! Bickle's thrashing like he's been hit by a semi-truck--and Billy staggers to his feet, ENERGIZED. The crowd's on their feet for the Sick One, and he's coming off the ropes, runs to Bickle and jumps straight up--a little of the Old Man Flair here--KNEE SMASH--into Bickle's HAND? Bickle yelps, drawing his hand closer to his chest--and Billy's coming off the ropes again--KNEE SMASH to the OTHER hand! BILL HEWSON: Bickle looks like he's HALF-BLIND from the pain! Has he reached the LIMIT of his endurance? JACK JONES: That's not a question we're fit to answer, but hey, SOUND strategy by Kryenik there, Bickle hurting his own hands at the start of the contest and only NOW has he actually thought to WORK them. Kryenik's ROARING--he's set to EXPLODE at any moment! He grabs Bickle by the ankles, smiles maliciously at him, and then drops BACK--SLINGSHOT! Parick bickle is sent careening into the ropes, and stays on them, propped up oh-so-violently by the Sick One. Kryenik wastes little time getting up, and now he's going downstairs, getting his shoulders in under Bickle's legs--LIFTING HIM, HERE IT COMES--ELECTRIC CHAIR DROP! SLAMMING Bickle's SPINE-FIRST into the mat! Here comes the cover--ONE! BILL HEWSON: TWO! KICK-OUT! With a big shiver of his body, Bickle has managed to kick OUT. Kryenik comes up, frowning AND smiling, seemingly working through his next move. And then--AND THEN--a resounding shot under Kryenik's jaw from Bickle's fist sends him reeling to the mat. FRANK WARBURTON: By means of a CLOSED FIST, Patrick Bickle has lost his SECOND! ROPE BREAK! BILL HEWSON: Will someone explain to me why people actually USE closed fists in a Pure Match? JACK JONES: Okay, you asked for it... when you're in a fight, even if you're a TRAINED FIGHTER, you lose your head, you don't think clearly, you lose your cool. You see a opportunity to hurt your opponent and you TAKE IT, even if it means bending the rules. Satisfied? BILL HEWSON: Sure. JACK JONES: Anyways, in Boxing, what we saw there would be termed a Straight Uppercut. With Kryenik off in la-la-land, Bickle's back on his feet, and he's taking Old Billy along for the ride. Collar and elbow-tie-up from Bickle, who's now lifting Kryenik up over his head, looks like a Vertical Suplex, but Bickle HOPS off of his feet on the follow-through--BOTH men hit the mat FASTER, and out-of-control. Bickle drapes his hand over Kryenik's chest, here comes the count, ONE! TWO! SHOULDER UP! Kryenik's not ready to lose at this moment, and the NAPW crowd draws a collective breath. Undaunted, Bickle sits his opponent up, PLANTS his knee into Kryenik's back, and slaps on the Rear Naked Choke--Kryenik's in a bad way here! He's too far from the ropes, seemingly nowhere to go--and Bickle's got that hold locked in TIGHT-- JACK JONES: TAP, Billy, TAP! It's OVER! BILL HEWSON: His hand is up, he's... he's... WHAT'S HE DOING? Rocking back-and-forth, as it were, an activity made all the more perilous with Bickle's knee bending his spine in an unnatural configuration. But consequences be damned, Kryenik finally arches all the way BACK, pushing Bickle onto HIS back--AND THAT'S A PIN! But Bickle's still got the choke on AND the knee in Kryenik's spine! Kryenik's screaming in agony--here comes the ref! ONE! TWO! SHOULDER UP! Patrick Bickle squirmed OUT of it, but he had to release the hold to do it! And Kryenik slides OFF of the man, limp as a rag doll! JACK JONES What do you all THAT? BILL HEWSON: I call it taking a page from his opponent's PLAYBOOK, THAT'S what I call it! Patrick Bickle grabs Billy by the hair and pulls him off the canvas--AND BILLY ROCKS HIM WITH A STRONG! RIGHT! HOOK! FRANK WARBURTON: By means of a CLOSED FIST, Billy Kryenik has lost his FIRST! ROPE BREAK! BILL HEWSON: My GOD! Billy's got SECONDS to act--AND HE POUNCES! He's trapping the leg--BRANCH BREAKER! BRANCH BREAKER ON PATRICK BICKLE! BUT THEY'RE SO CLOSE--SO CLOSE TO THE ROPES! AND KRYENIK'S SCREAMING HIS HEAD OFF! BILLY KRYENIK: GRAB IT! GRAB THE GODDAMN ROPE, BICKLE! GRAB IT AND THE PAIN WILL END! DO IT! GRAB THE ROPE! Bickle's hand is wavering--is he THINKING ABOUT IT? NO! His hand curls up into a ball--he's NOT going for it! He's NOT ending the hold! But Kryenik's bending him like a cheap reed, with the Branch Breaker locked in TIGHT--the crowd's screaming their LUNGS OUT--Bickle's hand is grabbing Kryenik's arm--KRYENIK JUST BROKE THE HOLD--ROLLS BICKLE UP--INTO AN IMPROVISED CRADLE! BICKLE'S SQUIRMING, THE REF'S ON THE SCENE--ONE! TWO! THREE! JACK JONES: I DON'T BELIEVE IT! BILL HEWSON: KYRENIK DID IT! HE PULLED OUT ALL THE STOPS AND HE DID IT! FRANK WARBURTON: Here is YOUR WINNER, by PINFALL... BIIIIILLY... KRYYYEEEEENNNIK! BILL HEWSON: William Kryenik, Esquire has proven himself as a PURE WRESTLER here tonight, but you gotta give the credit to Patrick Bickle! He put his own body on the line --- WAIT JUST A DAMNED MINUTE! Bickle just blindsided Kryenik! This match is over! Tell that to Patrick Bickle! He just clocked Kryenik as the ref raised Bill's hand, and now...clothesline sends Kryenik AND Bickle spilling over the top rope, landing hard. Kryenik's face rebounds off the concrete, Bickle's clutching his shoulder. JACK JONES: How is he getting up everytime? What's the water like where Bickle comes from? BILL HEWSON: Bill Kryenik just had his face bounce off of that concrete floor! Patrick Bickle is dragging his mangled body up to the top...he's on the top rope! No! Don't do it, kid! JACK JONES: FREEFALL! FREEFALL! BILL HEWSON: My God! Patrick Bickle just sacrificed his own body to injure Bill Kryenik on the outside! They're both writhing in pain, Kryenik caught between Bickle's body and the concrete! The match is over! It was a clean victory, and this reckless kid is trying to eliminate Bill Kryenik one week before he defends the tag belts with Evan Cartwright against D-X! JACK JONES: That was a convoluted sentence, Hewson, but Patrick Bickle? You call him reckless! He's a machine, that's what he is! Patrick Bickle drags himself on top of Bill Kryenik and begins to stiff-shot him in the face, Kryenik almost helpless. NAPW security shows up, Evan Cartwright a step behind them. Security pulls Bickle off of Kryenik, but possibly, the damage has been done. Kryenik is dazed and bloody as security and Cartwright hold him up. Evan throws some smack talk in Bickle's direction, the latter responding with a deadly serious expression. Bickle shoves security off of him and begins to limp back up the aisle, raising one arm high as the crowd showers him with boos. BILL HEWSON: That's not how you make your mark in NAPW! I thought this kid had some honor, but he's left Bill Kryenik a bloody mess here today! When we come back, however...D-X! The Delivery Men! Tag team action coming up!
"AS LOW AS YOU GO!" Music that can only mean one team. First, it's a man in green and gold tights, hirsute, and wearing a smug expression and the brand new "D-X Greatest Hits" t-shirt... Stylin' Kyle Roberts Behind him comes a man in a cowboy hat and duster, wearing a "Never Trust The Beast" shirt... Bruce Richards. And finally, wearing an open-collar shirt and blazer, the manager, the indefatigable Bill Fleming. D-X hits the ring to a shower of boos, each member of D-X hitting a corner and posing, Roberts taunting. FRANK WARBURTON: The following TAG TEAM contest is scheduled for ONE FALL! Introducing first, accompanied by their manager Bill Fleming... at a total combined weight of FIVE-HUNDRED and twenty-seven pounds... BRUCE "THE BEAST" RICHARDS! STYLIN' KYLE ROBERTS! THE NEW, AND IMPROVED... DEEEEEEE-EXXXXX! HEADSTONES! "SON OF A BITCH TO THE CORE!" And here come THE DELIVERY MEN, flanked by Tex... and they run down the aisle and slide into the ring! FRANK WARBURTON: And their opponents, accompanied by Tex! At a total combined weight of four-hundred and twenty nine pounds... #1! #2! THE DELIVERY MENNNNNNN! BILL HEWSON: You better move, Frank, cos the Delivery Men are fixing to take D-X out in the early going! #1 and #2 storming the ring, seemingly with the same goal in mind: Hit the three-time champs early, and hit them hard. JACK JONES: They haven't been getting along that well lately, Hewson... and if they're even one page apart from each other, D-X will eat them alive! The Delivery Men clear the ring, forcing D-X to confer with Fleming on the outside. For the moment, at least, it seems that #1 and #2 are completely in sync. D-X gets back on the ring apron, and things settle down to traditional tag format. Delivery Man #2 starts the match proper with Kyle Roberts. #2 jumps the gun and clotheslines Roberts off the get go. Roberts gets up quick, #2 goes for a dropkick but Roberts pushes that aside. #2 jumps up, Roberts grabs him and throws him into their corner. Richards is tagged in. Roberts punches #2 then lifts him up --- in a belly to belly position. Richards runs off the ropes, HART ATTACK! The Hart Foundation special is effective and #2... clobbered. #1 and Tex are hot on the outside. #1 wants in there badly. Richards picks up #2 --- DDT! Richards goes for the cover ONE! TWO! NO! Near fall. Richards gets back to his feet. He grabs #2 by the head... but #2 snubs him with a special delivery fist to the chops. #2 dives to his corner and tags in #1. #1 runs in. He attacks Richards. #2 crawls behind The Beast, #1 pushes him and Bruce Richards... topples over #2. #1 goes for a quick pin! ONE! NO! The Beast kicks out early. JACK JONES: That wasn't even a wrestling move! BILL HEWSON: What ever gets the job done. These Delivery Men are resourceful! JACK JONES: Those are moves an 8 year old would think of! BILL HEWSON: Then you should be intimately familiar with them. JACK JONES: ...hey! Richards gets back to his feet, #1 goes for a kick. Richards catches it and spins him around --- BACK BODY DROP! Richards runs off the ropes --- Tex grabs the legs and trips him up! Fleming runs over and starts yelling at Tex before the referee breaks it up. Roberts comes in and slaps himself to simulate a tag. #2 is back up and he runs at Roberts --- FLYING FOREARM SMASH! Roberts goes down. #1 and #2 grabs Richards who is almost to his corner. They yank him to the ground. #1 grabs his legs, #2 grabs his arms. They lift up the Beast and slam him back down hard. Roberts gets back up and clobbers #2. #1 goes for another pinfall...one...two... ROBERTS BREAKS IT UP! BILL HEWSON: I don't think D-X anticipated this much of a fight from the D-Men! JACK JONES: Who expects the Delivery Men to be deadly in the ring? BILL HEWSON: These fans sure did! JACK JONES: These fans don't know Jack! Hahah BILL HEWSON: Will you stop?! Fleming jumps up on the ring apron. #1 jumps at him and hits him off. The Beast is back up. #1 throws and Roberts are going at it until Tex pulls the top rope down and Roberts tumbles to the outside. #1 and #2 go after the Beast. He stumbles and then gets a double bulldog for his troubls. Roberts is hot on the outside. Bill Fleming grabs the ring bell and hands it to Roberts. Roberts rolls back into the ring with the bell! Roberts has that look in his eye's, the devil's look... and he hammers #2 with the bell! The referee calls the match! FRANK WARBUTON: Here is your winners as a result of a disqualification... THE DELIVERY MEN! BILL HEWSON: Kyle Roberts with the damn ring bell LOOK OUT! #1 just got clobbered in the face, all the way to the outside! And oh no, Bruce Richards just rolled out to the floor as well! JACK JONES: Six-foot three of baaaad intentions, Bill Hewson. Richards picks up #1, hooks him... and hits a BRAINBUSTER onto the concrete. Tex is shrieking as Roberts looks down at his hands with a blank stare. BILL HEWSON: What a disgrace! Those two arrogant jerks just cost themselves the match and they're taking advantage of the damage from the ring bell! JACK JONES: Call it...sending a message to the tag team champions! Richards has his arms wrapped around Tex, preventing her from getting involved in anyway. He grabs #2... and is setting up for the Emerald Fusion. But wait! Here's Stein! Stein has drifted/run/whatever to the ring, and now he's staring down Stylin' Kyle. Bill Fleming and Bruce Richards roll into the ring and get Roberts to back off, not wanting any piece of Stein. Damage done, D-X rolls out of the ring... BILL HEWSON: D-X roll out of the ring! Thank you Stein! JACK JONES: Don't be celebrating just yet! Why not? NO! Krusty Kid Paul and SUPERSTAR Tommy Deathrow run out of nowhere and attack Stein from behind! #1 is still laid out on the floor! Deathrow kicks Stein in the midsection, KKP does a facebuster! And now...KKP rolls Stein onto his stomach and puts on the CAMEL CLUTCH! Deathrow cups his hand on Stein's face, screaming in his face. TOMMY DEATHROW: You don't mess with the SHOWSTOPPA and the SUPERSTAR! YOU'LL NEVER BE THIS SEXY, STEIN! As for your little friend... you hold the bastard down, Paul baby! Deathrow picks up #2 and stuffs his head between his legs as Stein looks on with glazed horror... KKP grinning evilly... BILL HEWSON: For the love of God, no! Deathrow picks #2 up... DEATHROW DRIVER! #2 is out, #1 is out and Stein has been forced to watch Deathrow brutalize #2! Finally, KKP throws Stein down and the punks retreat through a violently heated crowd, threatening fans all the way out. BILL HEWSON: And Lethal Overdose... those two sons of bitches! This whole thing started when #1 eliminated Krusty Kid Paul from the Action! Battle Royale at Complete Control, and it's just gotten way out of hand! Something needs to give! JACK JONES: At the rate things are going, it'll be #2's spine. Head to commercial, as Tex tries to help #1 up and Stein - touchingly - tries to wake #2 up. #57 and a pair of EMTs have hit the ring...
JACK JONES: And I have a feeling that Tommy Deathrow is going to keep beating that freaking zombie up night after night! BILL HEWSON: We'll have to wait to see how that develops, because right now we have a Provincial title match to watch! JACK JONES: Evan Cartwright shouldn't even be given another shot at Lloyd Rees! Aren't the tag team belts good enough for that greedy bastard? FRANK WARBURTON: This next match is a TWO-OF-THREE FALLS MATCH and is for the NAPW PROVINCIAL CHAMPIONSHIP! Coming to the ring first, the challenger, hailing from Cairo, Illinois and weighing in at 222 pounds, he is a two time former NAPW Provincial Champion and one half of the current NAPW Tag Team Champions! Accompanied by Chris Casino, he is EVAAAAAN CARTWRIGHT! "Freddie's Dead" by Curtis Mayfield hits and Evan Cartwright comes out from the back alongside Chris Casino. He slaps hands with a few fans on the way down to the ring, but his focus is on the match ahead. Casino slaps Evan on the back as Cartwright jumps up to the ring apron and then steps into the ring. BILL HEWSON: Listen to that ovation, Jack Attack! The fans here absolutely love Evan Cartwright! JACK JONES: They should save that applause for the man that represents all the provinces now, as once he proudly stood for just Newfoundland, not waste it on this cheater! Look, he brought out one of his partner's in crime already. BILL HEWSON: Chris Casino is acting as Cartwright's corner for this match, Jack, as you well know. After each fall during the match both wrestlers will go to their corner for a one minute break. Casino is going to advise Cartwright, just like Ol' Salty will be coaching Rees, I'm sure. FRANK WARBURTON: And his opponent, coming from Bell Island, Newfoundland and weighing in at 247 pounds. He is the current NAPW Provincial Champion! Coming to the ring accompanied by Ol' Salty, he is "The Lemondrop Kid" Lloyd REEEEEEEEEEEEEEES! Ol' Salty comes out from the back with the Provincial Champion, the two holding a flag between them to the sound of "Figthing 59" by Harry Hibbs. But for once it is not the green white and pink of the Republic of Newfoundland. Instead what Lloyd and Salty are carrying appears to be an amalgam, a long banner with all of the provincial flags sewn onto it, each with their own section. Rees holds out his hand and gives enthusiastic fives to the people who continue booing him. JACK JONES: Now this is a champion we can be proud of! These people need to get with the program! BILL HEWSON: Spare me. This is just another one of Lloyd's blatant attempts to get under the skin of Evan Cartwright, trying to get some cheap cheers from the crowd here tonight... and it doesn't sound like they're falling for it! Rees steps into the ring, handing the flag off to Ol' Salty, who folds it carefully and places it on the announcers' table. Lloyd Rees goes to the corners and raises his arms high, basking in imagined cheers. Cartwright waits patiently in the center of the ring for his opponent. Finally the champion ceases his posing and comes to the center of the ring where his face goes from jovial to business in under a second. Cartwright and Rees stare at each other as John Sharplin goes over the rules. The two men stand practically touching foreheads as Sharplin finishes his explanation and tells them to go to their corners. The crowd is really behind Cartwright as the two men continue trying to stare each other down... Rees breaks first and turns away, then wheels back and swings a big right at Cartwright! Cartwright sees it coming and blocks high, answering with a shot to Rees chin. Another! Another! Rees is staggering as Sharplin calls for the bell to officially begin the match. Overhand chop, knifehand chop! Rees is backed into the corner under the stinging series of blows. Cartwright grabs the top rope for leverage and just unloads on the champion's chest with chop after chop, cruel cracks ringing out through the NAIT gymnasium. Cartwright blows across the back of his hand and shakes out his fingers then delivers one final chop across the bright red chest of Rees. Cartwright grabs Rees by the arm and goes for the Irish whip, but Rees reverses and sends Cartwright crashing into the corner. Rees follows up with a flying forearm but Cartwright ducks out of the way at the last second and Lloyd eats turnbuckle. Cartwright hits the ropes as the Lemondrop Kid stumbles backwards, charging back and delivering a low shoulder block to the small of the champion's back. Rees arches his back in pain and Evan Cartwright is quick to hook his head and drop in an inverted headlock backbreaker. Cartwright turns and grabs Rees by the thigh with his other hand, sliding him down to an outstretched knee and continuing to stretch him in a backbreaker submission. BILL HEWSON: Evan Cartwright going to work early on the back of Lloyd Rees, softening him up for the Cartwheel! JACK JONES: Cartwright would have a better chance of softening diamonds than our Provincial Champion! Cartwright pushes down hard on Lloyd's face and legs, stretching him across the outstretched knee while Sharplin checks on the champion. Rees shakes his head, eyes screwed shut as he fights through the pain. Evan changes his grip on the Lemondrop Kid, lifting him up off the mat in an inverted crossbody and then falling forward to slam Lloyd into that mat on his stomach. Evan doesn't stop there, popping to his feet and leaping into the air, dropping down with both knees on Rees' back! Rees cries out in pain, and Cartwright hooks his head and leg again and rolls back; bow and arrow submission! Cartwright's arms and shoulders tense as he cranks in the hold, pushing Lloyd's feet all the way to the mat. That proves to be a mistake as the Provincial champion kicks off the mat hard, kicking his legs free and flipping backwards out of the hold. Rees has a grip on Cartwright's legs which he quickly turns into the Texas Cloverleaf that he calls the Lance Cove Leglock! Rees sits back in the hold, locking it in tight and Cartwright's head shoots up in agony. Cartwright scrambles forward quickly on his forearms, only needing to go a few feet before he can wrap an arm around the bottom rope. Sharplin calls for the break, but Rees ignores it, leaning back hard as Cartwright screams. Sharplin counts quickly; One! Two! Three! Four! Fi- Rees breaks the Lance Cove Leglock and holds up both hands to show that they are clean. Sharplin tries to warn Rees, but he is off to the ropes! Cartwright pulls himself up to the second rope, hanging there. Rees comes back and leaps over the top rope, turning in midair to come down with a legdrop across the back of Cartwright's head! Rees back to his feet as Evan is practically thrown upright from the rebound off the second rope. From the apron, Rees goes airborne, spriningboard corkscrew from the top! He nails the Fresh Water Flip on Evan Cartwright and both men tumble to the mat. Lloyd Rees with the first cover of the match; One! Two! Cartwright just gets a shoulder off the mat. Rees spins out of the lateral press, grabbing an arm... cross-armbreaker! No! Lloyd hooks Evan's head as well and locks in the triangle choke! Evan is up on his knees, but his arm and head are securely trapped. Evan Cartwright braces both legs and then shoves forward, shifting his weight and rolling Lloyd Rees back onto his shoulders. Sharplin drops to make the count; One! Two! Rees realizes what is happening and releases the hold, kicking out of the pin. BILL HEWSON: A beautiful escape strategy from Evan Cartwright, but it looks like just a brief time in that triangle choke took a lot out of him. JACK JONES: More like a cheap escape. If you can't take the heat, don't get caught with a triangle choke in the first place! Cartwright rotates his shoulder; the same one Rees worked so brutally in their ladder match, and slowly begins to circle. Rees is smiling slightly, and takes a quick step forward trying to pick Cartwright's leg. Evan dances back from the attempt and the two continue to circle, sizing each other up and looking for that crucial opening. They both step forward at the same time and meet with a tie-up in the middle. Cartwright gains the quick advantage with a standing wristlock, which he switches into an armwringer. Rees checks his shoulder then drops to the mat in a forward roll and kips up to his feet, twisting Cartwright's arm into an armwringer of his own. Lloyd Rees has Cartwright's wrist in both hands and is twisting hard. Cartwright struggles, moving around in a slow circle before twisting suddenly and bringing his free arm down, bringing Rees to the mat in a modified armbar takedown. Evan Cartwright rolls over rapidly and hooks in a waistlock on the champion. Rees gets his legs around so that he is sitting, and drops his arms to try to pry Evan's hands apart. Cartwright is having none of it as he stands up and hauls Rees bodily off the mat. Rees swings a back elbow; nails it! Cartwright is staggered and Rees goes for a second... no dice! Cartwright isn't there as he drops into a crouch, releasing the waistlock and picking both of Rees' legs, dropping his facefirst to the mat. Evan Cartwright grabs Lloyd Rees for the wheelbarrow suplex that begins the Cartwheel and the crowd pops huge! Cartwright lifts, but Lloyd tucks his head in and grabs a hold of both of Cartwright's legs, rolling him forward and into the pin. One! Two! Thr-Cartwright locks his legs around Rees and rolls forward into his own pin! One! Two! THR-Rees slams his feet together on the sides of Cartwright's head, breaking the pin! BILL HEWSON: These two men are pulling out all of the stops! A great counter to the Cartwheel by Lloyd Rees into a pinning attempt, and a great reversal by Cartwright into a pin of his own! JACK JONES: Lloyd Rees is showing Evan Cartwright just who is the superior technical wrestler, and exactly why he is the Provincial Champion! BILL HEWSON: Rees is the champion because he viciously assaulted Evan Cartwright's shoulder and then hit him with a chair! That had nothing to do with technical wrestling! Rees is first to his feet and goes immediately to the ropes. He comes back hard at Cartwright as the challenger is just getting to his feet... Cartwright pulls off a high leap frog over the running Rees! Rees hits the opposite ropes and comes back, Cartwright drops to the mat at the last second and Lloyd has to jump over him. Cartwright back to his feet and he catches the champion with a beautiful Japanese armdrag as he comes back to the middle of the ring for a third time! Cartwright into the ropes now as Lloyd stumbles up to his feet; ROARING ELBOW! Evan Cartwright just won't stop as he comes to his feet already at a run and leaps into the ropes. Rees is dazed but upright... not for long as Evan Cartwright flies off the ropes with the Asai dropkick to Lloyd's back! Rees stumbles and falls into the ropes, his arms draped over the top. Cartwright takes a running start and delivers a soccer kick across Lloyd's lower back. Lloyd tenses up in pain, and Cartwright grabs him in a rear chinlock. Cartwright falls backwards... double knee backbreaker! Lloyd rebounds to one knee, his other leg stretched out, both arms extended as he arches his back in pain, mouth opened in a silent scream to the ceiling. Cartwright lines Rees up and snaps out another punishing soccer kick to the small of his back. Rees shuffles forward on one knee towards the ropes, his face screwed up in pain, and Cartwright slams another kick into his back. Cartwright hooks the champion in an inverted facelock and drops him down across one knee to continue the back-shattering assault. Cartwright hooks the legs and goes for the pin; One! Two! Thr-shoulder up! JACK JONES: C'mon Lloyd, enough playing possum, uh, b'y! BILL HEWSON: Evan Cartwright has refocused his attack on the back of the champion, and that cannot be good for Lloyd Rees. That is, if he plans on retaining the title here tonight. Cartwright is in complete control of this match right now. And Cartwright seems to be enjoying it as he hauls the champion up off the mat. Evan Cartwright hefts the Lemondrop Kid up to his shoulders and into the argentine backbreaker rack! Lloyd Rees screams now, as Cartwright bends him cruelly across his shoulders and John Sharplin checks to see if he wants to give up for the first fall. Rees shakes his head and Cartwright bends his knees and jumps, landing back on his feet and putting even more pressure on the back of Lloyd Rees. Lloyd waves his hand wildly, searching for some purchase to escape from the hold, but he is stuck in the middle of the ring and fading fast. Cartwright takes his opportunity and spins Lloyd Rees out of the hold by the legs, grabbing both and flipping the champion forward! Cartwright goes for the Cartwheel a second time, lifting Lloyd Rees off the mat by both legs for the wheelbarrow suplex... NO! Somehow, someway, Lloyd Rees manages to backflip straight over Evan Cartwright's back and land on his feet behind the challenger. Lloyd Rees with a waistlock, German Suplex time... NO! Evan Cartwright with the backflip this time! Cartwright with a waistlock of his own runs Lloyd Rees into the ropes and then rolls him up! Cartwright bridges back for the pin; ONE! TWO! THRE-Lloyd Rees gets a shoulder up! BILL HEWSON: Lloyd Rees a split-second away from-wait, what is he doing? Rees brings his arm back around after getting the shoulder off the mat and hooks Cartwright's head, positioned just over his. Lloyd kicks his legs free into a grapevine legs scissors and stretches back! CONCEPTION BAY CHINLOCK out of nowhere! Evan Cartwright is struggling, but he doesn't have anywhere to go, stuck in the center of the ring in the deadly submission hold. Cartwright fights valiantly, trying to pull Lloyd's arm free, kicking wildly in an attempt to get out of the grapevine, but there is nothing he can do. The Conception Bay Chinlock is sunk in deep, and there can be only two outcomes; pass out or tap out. Cartwright raises a hand, mindful even through the pain that he has at least one more fall to go in this match that won't happen if he is out cold in the center of the ring, and taps on Lloyd's arm. Sharplin signals the submission and the bell rings. Sharplin forces Lloyd to make the break, and a grinning Newfie rolls to his feet and goes to his corner for the one-minute break. Cartwright slams his hands to the mat and slowly makes his way over to his own corner. FRANK WARBURTON: The winner of the first fall, via submission, LLOYD REES! JACK JONES: Say it, Hewson! Say it! BILL HEWSON: I know, I know. That was an incredible move by Lloyd Rees. The Conception Bay Chinlock completely surprised Evan Cartwright, who probably thought he had that fall in the bag. JACK JONES: Hah! You know it was! Only a true champion could have pulled off something like that! BILL HEWSON: Chris Casino and Evan Cartwright and conferring heavily in the corner, while Ol' Salty and Lloyd Rees just appear to be telling jokes... and now Ol' Salty is offering Rees his plain brown paper bag! We're in the middle of a wrestling match here! JACK JONES: Maybe Rees is hyperventilating. Don't be insensitive, Hewson! Rees pushes the paper bag away without taking a drink from it, and Ol' Salty shrugs and takes a big swig for himself before tucking it away again. Chris Casino slaps Cartwright on the back and gives him the thumbs up as the bell rings to signal that the match is live once more. Cartwright and Rees, both looking better for the rest, come out of their corners and meet in the center of the ring to get right back into it. Cartwright goes for the tie-up and Rees ducks it, driving a hard knee up into Cartwright's stomach. Lloyd Rees pounds Evan Cartwright down to his knees with hard forearm shots to the upper back, then hits the ropes and comes back to drive a knee into the side of his head. Cartwright rolls to the ropes clutching the side of his head and Lloyd Rees assists him a little further by nailing him with a baseball slide that sends Cartwright sprawling to the outside. Evan Cartwright begins to get back to his feet and Lloyd Rees raises his hands to a chorus of boos from the crowd. Rees hits the opposite ropes and runs back to leap over the top rope with a flipping senton to the rising Cartwright! Both men crash to the outside, but it is obvious that Evan received the worse of that exchange, almost all of Lloyd's weight having landed on his back. Sure enough, Lloyd is the first up to his feet, rolling quickly in and back out of the ring to break the ten count. Rees grabs Evan by the back of the head and pulls him up to his feet, slamming Cartwright's forehead down into the edge of the ring apron. Lloyd spins around and whips Cartwright backwards into the restraining barrier around the ring, Evan's back crashing hard into it. Fans at ringside lean over and slap the challenger on the shoulders, encouraging him to get to his feet, but quickly move back as Lloyd runs in and delivers a crushing knee to the face of Evan Cartwright. Sharplin's new count reaches five as Lloyd pulls Cartwright up off the floor again and braces his feet. The Lemondrop Kid hurls Cartwright along the ring apron to crash into the ring steps at a full run, flipping over the steel steps and sprawling out on the floor by the announcer's desk. BILL HEWSON: What impact! Evan Cartwright is being manhandled here on the outside by Lloyd Rees! JACK JONES: Rees is using the environment to his advantage, no foreign objects here to get himself disqualified! He can't be blamed if Evan Cartwright is clumsy enough to run full speed into the ring steps. Rees rolls into the ring again, breaking the count at seven, and begins a conference with Sharplin concerning some finer points of the rules. On the outside, Ol' Salty begins to stalk towards Evan Cartwright... but looks like he forgot about Chris Casino! Salty comes up short as the former NAPW Heavyweight Champion glowers across at him, protecting the prone form of his fellow Rat Pack member. Ol' Salty raises his hands and backs off, and Casino returns to his corner. Cartwright gets slowly to his hands and knees, shaking his head as John Sharplin, freed from Lloyd's distraction attempt, begins to count once more. Evan gets to one knee, still fighting through the haze, and Rees climbs out to the apron once more. Rees stands on the apron, facing into the ring as Cartwright staggers up to his feet, turning slowly to face the ring. Lloyd Rees looks back at Evan Cartwright and then jumps backwards... DDT FROM THE GREEN! Rees NAILED Cartwright with the jumping reverse DDT, driving him down to the unforgiving floor! Evan Cartwright looks to be out cold as Lloyd Rees smiles at the booing fans here tonight. Rees drags Cartwright slowly back towards the ring, having to completely support Cartwright's weight as he picks him up and rolls him under the bottom rope. Lloyd Rees climbs back into the ring and covers Cartwright with a lateral press. Sharplin makes the cover; ONE! TWO! THREEEEENO! At the last possible instant Cartwright's shoulder comes less than an inch off the canvas, and Sharplin holds up two fingers! BILL HEWSON: How the hell did Evan Cartwright kick out of that?! JACK JONES: It must have been a slow count! Get Oldy McRef out of there and replace him with somebody without elbow arthritis! Rees looks at Sharplin in stunned disbelief, then presses down on Cartwright for another cover attempt; ONE! TWO! THREE-NO! Cartwright again gets a shoulder up off the mat just before Sharplin's hand can fall for the final time. Lloyd Rees hooks a leg for another pin; ONE! TWO! THRE-Cartwright kicks out earlier this time! Lloyd Rees hooks both legs and leans back hard; ONE! TWO! THR-Cartwright kicks out with authority, getting stronger with each quick counting cadence! The fans are pounding their feet and chanting "Cartwright! Cartwright! Cartwright!" Evan rolls to his stomach protecting the pin attempt and Lloyd pounces on him with a side headlock. Rees doesn't have a chance of keeping the re-energized Cartwright down though as he flexes his fists and forces himself up to a standing base. Evan Cartwright locks his hands as Lloyd Rees shakes his head wildly, trying to deny what is happening, and drives an elbow hard into the gut of the champion! Rees just manages to keep the headlock in as Cartwright brings his elbow back again and then pistons it around! Rees almost leaves the mat this time, but grabs Evan in the headlock even tighter before Cartwright can escape. Evan's knee buckles under the pressure and for a second it looks like that might be it, but a fresh round of wild cheering from the crowd brings him back to his feet. Cartwright locks his fist and brings his elbow around with everything he has, driving the point into Lloyd's stomach so hard it actually does bring both of his feet off the mat. Rees doubles over, the hold lost, and Evan Cartwright locks in a side headlock of his own! Lloyd Rees reacts quickly, grabbing a side waistlock and pulling off a back suplex, but Cartwright is still feeling it and flips over, landing beside Rees. Cartwright slams a knee up into Lloyd's stomach, doubling him over, then drops his left leg across the back of the champion's neck. Evan Cartwright leaps into the air, bringing his other leg around for the hurricarana... Lloyd Rees drops down to his knees- POWERBOMB! BILL HEWSON: No! Evan Cartwright was this close to turning the momentum in his favor, but Lloyd Rees stayed in the game with a desperation powerbomb to silence the offense of the challenger. JACK JONES: You want desperate, you don't have to look any further than the man lying flat on his back, Evan Cartwright. This is the end right here, Hewson. Lloyd Rees pins Evan Cartwright again, driving his shoulders into the back of both of Cartwright's thighs, leaning over him with a wild grin. Sharplin counts; ONE! TWO! Cartwright kicks out, shooting both legs straight up in the air! Wait! Lloyd Rees keeps a grip on Cartwright's right leg as Evan rolls towards his stomach! Rees falls onto Cartwright's back; STF! STF locked in! Evan Cartwright just screams as his neck is wrenched back by the sadistically grinning Lloyd Rees, but his hands hover over the mat, refusing to tap. Cartwright stretches one hand forward, locked on the ropes just a few short feet away. He clutches the mat and pulls forward arms straining as Rees continues to wrench back viciously. Sharplin is checking on Cartwright, and for a moment it looks like he will not have the strength to make it, his right hand shaking at the brink of giving up. Then Cartwright bunches his legs and thrusts his whole body forward the final inches, his hand grasping the bottom rope. Sharplin calls for the rope break, and immediately has to count as Rees refuses to break the hold; ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! FI- Lloyd Rees breaks the STF and stands up, stomping on Cartwright's back as he does. Rees wipes the sweat from his brow and flicks his fingers down at Cartwright, then boots him hard in the ribs. Lloyd bends down and drags Evan Cartwright up to his knees. Without warning Cartwright springs to his feet and knocks both of Lloyd Rees' arms away, then hammers him in across the face with a forearm shiver. Cartwright rocks Rees with another forearm strike, then hooks his head and doubles him over for a knee blow. Cartwright runs into the ropes and comes back with a head of steam, only to be flattened as Lloyd spins around and smashes his chest with a sideways double sledge. Cartwright tumbles over backwards and Lloyd strikes like a snake, grabbing both legs and dropping down to kneel with a kneel on either side of Cartwright's face, arms tucked deep into his armpits for a tight pin; ONE! TWO! THRE-Cartwright pulls his legs out hard, flipping Lloyd over and sitting up so that he is pinning Rees in the exact same way! ONE! TW-Cartwright breaks his own pin, standing up and stepping backwards, rolling Rees off his shoulders to lie facedown on the mat, Evan still keeping a tight grip on both legs... CARTWHEEL! Evan Cartwright heaves Lloyd Rees up and smashes him down in a wheelbarrow suplex then rolls over and applies the Boston Crab! BILL HEWSON: Cartwheel! Cartwheel from Evan Cartwright! JACK JONES: Fight it Lloyd, fight it! You can do it! Lloyd scrambles towards the ropes, but Cartwright sits into the hold before he can get more than a foot or two. Lloyd' head shoots upwards in agony, eyes wide as a scream rips out from his throat. Lloyd claws at his hair, then the mat, trying to find purchase somewhere. Evan Cartwright stares up at the ceiling lights, cranking back on both of Lloyd's legs as hard as he possibly can, trying to break the man in two. Rees looks on the point of tearing his hair out then finally bangs on the mat rapidly with his right hand. Sharplin calls for the bell and Evan Cartwright falls out of the hold sideways; collapsing to the mat in a heap. FRANK WARBURTON: The winner of the second fall, via submission... EVAN CARTWRIGHT! Both men look spent as they practically crawl to their neutral corners. Chris Casino splashes a water bottle over Cartwright's head then gives him a long drink. Lloyd Rees again pushes away Salty's brown paper bag and dumps water over his own head. Chris Casino gestures emphatically as he speaks to Cartwright, and Ol' Salty seems to be reassuring the Provincial Champion with a sly nod and a wink. The timekeeper signals that one minute is up by ringing the bell, and Sharplin motions for both men to come out fighting. And they do. Instead of giving in to their weariness, Cartwright and Rees both practically explode out of their corners, charging across the ring at each other. Clothesline attempt from Rees, ducked by Cartwright. Both men spin around and Cartwright levels a massive chop across the chest of the champion. Rees answers back with a ringing chop of his own. Cartwright! Rees! Cartwright! Rees! We have a full-fledged chop battle going on in the center of the ring at the start of this third and final fall! Each blow cracks out like a gunshot and the crowd "Whooooo!"s along with each one. Both men refuse to budge, taking the chop standing stock still before delivering their own. Cartwright swings another chop and Rees steps back out of the way! Rees takes a quick step back in and delivers a thunderous knifehand across the reddened chest of Cartwright. With the advantage, the Lemondrop Kid comes across with a second chop, blasting it across the chest of the challenger. This time Cartwright catches Lloyd's arm, trapping it against his chest and bringing the other arm around for an armbar takedown! Rees blocks the attempt from one knee, spinning around to deliver an armdrag toss. Cartwright spins in the air and lands on his feet, reversing into a hiptoss of his own! Rees flips over and manages to land on his feet. Rees spins around throwing a roundhouse kick but Cartwright ducks it. Rees continues with the motion into a sweep and Cartwright jumps straight up, tucking his legs over the swinging leg. The force of the attempt spins Rees around on the mat, and Cartwright extends both legs as he falls; leg drop right across the back of Lloyd's neck, driving his face into the mat! BILL HEWSON: What an exchange! These two men should by all rights be exhausted, but they are fighting like it is the start of the match! JACK JONES: That is because Lloyd Rees is a true champion! BILL HEWSON: What about Evan Cartwright? JACK JONES: He's just... copying Lloyd Rees! That dirty copycat! Cartwright stands up and rolls Rees over for the pin, but Lloyd Rees suddenly reaches up and pulls Evan Cartwright down; inside cradle! One! Two! Cartwright shifts and rolls through the cradle, dropping Lloyd's shoulders to the mat; One! Two! Lloyd kicks out hard and both men come back to their feet. Rees with a punch attempt, ducked by Cartwright, who hooks an arm over the shoulder of the champion! Cartwright goes for the sambo suplex, blocked by Lloyd Rees! Cartwright drives his knee up into Lloyd's gut three times, then attempts it again, this time hauling Rees over and around to slam down into the mat with the sambo suplex! Cartwright does not attempt the pin, instead going to the corner and pointing to the top to a huge roar of approval from the fans here tonight. Cartwright places his hands on either side of the top turnbuckle and leaps, turning in midair to land on the top with a little flair. Lloyd Rees is just regaining his feet, looking dazed, and Evan Cartwright sizes him up. Ol' Salty tries to scream a warning, but Lloyd Rees turns around and Evan flies. Flashbulbs pop as Evan Cartwright soars through the air to land a perfect crossbody block on Lloyd Rees, crashing down to the mat. It looks like Cartwright has the pin... no! Lloyd Rees rolls through the high-flying move and hooks both of Evan's legs. Sharplin is already in position; ONE! TWO! THRE- Cartwright kicks out just before Sharplin's hand hits the mat. Both men roll up to their feet and Cartwright charges in at Rees. Lloyd drops to the mat and hits a drop toehold on Evan Cartwright. Rees spins around and locks in a front facelock, sprawling his legs out to keep Cartwright grounded. Evan tries to push himself up off the mat, but Lloyd wrenches hard on the hold and Cartwright's arms buckle at the sudden pain. Evan Cartwright tucks his knees first this time, tensing his shoulders before making one big push upwards, lurching to a vertical base with Rees still holding the facelock, grinding his wrist across Cartwright's nose. The Lemondrop Kid twists Cartwright's head hard to the side and Evan goes down to one knee. Rees leans over him, and it looks like he may drive Cartwright back down to the mat. Evan Cartwright wraps his arms around Lloyd's waist and then comes back to his feet and brings Rees up and back down in a northern lights suplex in one smooth motion! Cartwright holding for the pin; ONE! TWO! Rees rolls over out of the pin, and he still has that front facelock applied! Cartwright is back up to his feet faster this time, not allowing Lloyd the time to set his full weight into the hold. Cartwright lifts Lloyd up a second time, this time bringing him down into a reverse atomic drop. Cartwright runs to the ropes as Lloyd's eyes cross and he just barely stays standing. Evan Cartwright running back... right into a leg lariat from Rees! BILL HEWSON: Evan Cartwright caught that one right in the face! JACK JONES: It can only improve things in that area for him. Rees scrambles across the mat and grabs Evan's legs. Lloyd Rees looking for the Lance Cove Leglock for the second time tonight, but Evan Cartwright is fighting him for every inch of it. Rees gets the legs in place, but Cartwright gets an arm behind his head, firing stiff forearm shots into Lloyd's face with his other hand. Rees struggles to turn Cartwright, but Evan keeps planting his forearm across the bridge of Lloyd's nose. Lloyd finally tugs his head free and stands up straight, still trying to turn Evan Cartwright over. Cartwright plants his hands on either side of his head and pushes off the mat, executing a vertical situp and grabbing the back of the champion's head with both hands. Monkey flip by Cartwright! Lloyd moves with the flip and lands on his feet as Cartwright nips up. Both men spin and meet in the center of the ring swinging for the fences to a roar of cheers at the display of athleticism. Rees hammers Cartwright in the side of the head with an elbow then whips him into the corner. Cartwright catches himself and springs backwards, but Rees sees it coming and pushes down on the airborne Evan's back, faceplanting him on the mat. Lloyd Rees grabs both of Evan Cartwright's legs, what is he looking for here? Rees lifts Evan Cartwright up by the legs... CARTWHEEL! Lloyd Rees nails Evan Cartwright with Evan's own finishing maneuver, and he sits out perfectly in the boston crab! Cartwright claws forward for the ropes, but Lloyd is using his weight advantage well, keeping Evan Cartwright just a tantalizing foot from relief. Cartwright's hands dig into the canvas, but he can't seem to budge even an inch. The champion leans his head back, eyes closed as he wrenches the hold as hard as he can, willing Cartwright to tap out. Chris Casino is yelling encouragement to Evan Cartwright, but Cartwright is lost in a world of his own pain. BILL HEWSON: This could be the end for Evan Cartwright! Will he be forced to tap to his own patented submission hold? JACK JONES: You know he will, and it will go down in history as the most perfect Cartwheel ever executed! "EVAN!" beat beat "CARTWRIGHT!" beat beat "EVAN!" beat beat "CARTWRIGHT!" the crowd chants, fully behind the challenger in this match. Evan, seeming to draw strength from the fans, pushes himself up on trembling arms, forcing Lloyd to release some of the pressure, but adding some of his own. Cartwright closes his eyes, sweat pouring down his face, then tucks his head in and rolls, kicking both of his legs out and freeing himself from the Cartwheel! Lloyd tumbles into the ropes, and Evan Cartwright has a hold of one of his legs, twisting it out and arching his back into a painful MMA-style kneebar! Rees screams and grabs the ropes with both hands as Evan Cartwright does his best to hyperextend the knee of the champion. Lloyd is practically crawling out of the ring as Sharplin orders Cartwright to release the hold. Evan Cartwright does not even seem to hear the senior official as he leans back, popping his hips up until only his shoulders and feet are still on the mat. Lloyd Rees is hanging halfway off the apron, reaching his arms out towards the floor as if searching for an escape from the demon on his leg. Sharplin makes a fast five count as Chris Casino screams for Cartwright to release to hold; ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! FIV- Cartwright comes to his senses and relinquishes his hold on Lloyd's knee just before being disqualified by Sharplin. Lloyd tumbles to the outside, clutching his right knee in both hands, his face pressed into the thin mats covering the floor. Evan Cartwright begins to get to his feet, then collapses, both hands going to his lower back and a look of agony twisting his face. Sharplin begins a slow ten count on Lloyd Rees on the outside. BILL HEWSON: I think Evan Cartwright may have done some serious damage to Lloyd's knee with that kneebar! It didn't even look like he knew where he was in those few seconds and it almost got him disqualified! JACK JONES: If Sharplin was a better official, it would have been a DQ! That was a blatant and illegal attempt by Evan Cartwright to injure our proud Provincial Champion! Sharplin's count reaches five before Lloyd can pull himself up on the ring apron, and he almost immediately falls back down as he tries to put weight on his right leg. Inside the ring, Cartwright has used the ropes to get up to his knees, and leans there taking a rest after the torturous time in the Cartwheel. Sharplin counts reaches eight, and the crowd is cheering as Lloyd doesn't show any signs of getting back to his feet. Sharplin throws up nine fingers and it looks like this one might be over with a countout... Evan Cartwright slides out of the ring and grabs Rees by the hair, rolling him back inside! Evan Cartwright shakes his head as Sharplin looks down at him, pointing to the ring even as he slides back in himself. It looks like Evan Cartwright wants to win this one right in the middle of the ring. This gets a huge ovation from the fans, nearly taking the roof off of the NAIT gymnasium. Evan Cartwright approaches the still downed Lloyd, walking slowly and holding his back with one hand. Cartwright grabs a leg and then looks out to the crowd before shouting, "Whooo!" The crowd responds in kind and Cartwright twists Lloyd's legs into the figure four! Sharplin runs over to check on Lloyd, who looks on the verge of passing out from the pain shooting through his leg. Lloyd's shoulders press to the mat and Sharplin drops to count; ONE! TWO! Lloyd gets a shoulder up and manages to sit straight, pounding a fist to the outside of Evan's knee. Cartwright sits up as well and knocks Lloyd back down with a stiff right. Sharplin leans over to check on the champion, who suddenly lunges up and grabs the official by the shirt with both hands. Sharplin tries to extricate himself from Lloyd's deathgrip, and Lloyd tries to use the referee for extra leverage to get out of his own deathgrip. On the outside, Ol' Salty sees an opportunity and shoves the timekeeper, grabbing the chair out from under the man. Salty folds the weapon and clambers up onto the ring apron! BILL HEWSON: Oh no! Damn that Ol' Salty, we were having a clean match and now he's bringing in a steel chair! JACK JONES: Maybe he thinks John Sharplin needs to take a rest, did you ever think of- what is Chris Casino doing? Chris Casino has jumped up on the apron as well, around the corner from Ol' Salty. Salty holds the steel chair up as if preparing to throw it into the ring, but Casino is having none of it. Chris Casino leaps up to the top rope and springboards across the distance between them, drilling a front dropkick into the chair, driving it into Salty's face! Both corner men crash down hard to the outside and do not get back up as cheers rock the gym for Casino's actions. Back in the ring, Sharplin has managed to free himself of Rees, but Lloyd has also escaped from the figure four. Sharplin is trying to issue a reprimand, but has to quickly step out of the way as Cartwright comes at Lloyd like a train, running him back into the corner. Evan Cartwright steps back and then spins as he comes back in to deliver a ROARING ELBOW to Lloyd Rees! Rees stumbles out of the corner and Evan Cartwright hooks his head and runs up the corner for the diamond dust! Lloyd Rees lashes out a hand and jerks the top rope sharply just as Evan's foot strikes it, causing Cartwright to stumble and fall, crotching himself across the turnbuckle! The Lemondrop Kid punches hard into Cartwright's back, sending a spasm of pain across his face. Lloyd delivers another series of punches to the back before climbing up behind Cartwright and waistlocking him. Evan Cartwright lashes back with an elbow, stunning Rees and causing him to step back down to the second ropes. Cartwright slowly turns around on the turnbuckle and hooks Lloyd Rees by the head. Evan Cartwright stands up on the top rope, pulling Rees up with him. Cartwright tries to lift Rees for a front layout superplex, but his back twists and he can't get the champion up! Lloyd Rees reverses, pulling Cartwright straight up into the air and then falling backwards... WABANA BUSTER! The super brainbuster drives Evan Cartwright's head into the mat so hard he bounces! Cartwright lands on his back and sits up straight, eyes glazed over, before collapsing, boneless, to the mat. BILL HEWSON: Did you hear that impact?! Evan Cartwright may have a broken neck after that! JACK JONES: Cover him, Lloyd! COVER HIM! Rees does not look to be in much better shape than Cartwright after the fall, holding his right knee again and rolling back and forth on the mat in agonizing pain. His eyes focus on Cartwright and he begins to make the painstaking crawl across the ring towards his foe. Lloyd Rees lunges forward and drapes an arm across Evan Cartwright's chest; ONE! TWO! THREEEENO! NO! NO! Evan Cartwright gets a SHOULDER UP! Lloyd Rees cannot believe what John Sharplin is saying, holding up three fingers, practically pleading with the official. Sharplin shakes his head and shows two and the expression on Lloyd's face turns to hatred as he looks down at Evan Cartwright, still flat on his back on the mat. Rees staggers to his feet and leans down to grab Cartwright by the head, pulling him savagely back to his feet. Lloyd Rees hooks in the dragon sleeper, eyes wild, wrenching back on the hold brutally in prelude to falling back for the full Conception Bay Chinlock. Lloyd Rees looks like he might put Evan Cartwright out on his feet... but Evan Cartwright suddenly comes to life! Cartwright twists his body around hard, suprising Lloyd and spinning upright. Cartwright hooks in the inverted facelock on Lloyd Rees and falls backwards. Leg grapevine from Cartwright; CONCEPTION BAY CHINLOCK! Turnabout is fair play, and Cartwright has Lloyd Rees locked in his own finishing move now! Rees is struggling to reach the ropes with one leg, and it seems that Cartwright is having problems applying full pressure in the hold because of his back. Lloyd Rees is still fading in the hold, but he manages to drag himself over to the ropes and get a foot up. This time Cartwright breaks the hold as soon as Sharplin tells him to. BILL HEWSON: It looks like that could have taken all Cartwright had left. No real surprise, after the Wabana Buster! JACK JONES: You've got that right, Billy Boy. Put a fork in Evan Cartwright; he's done! The champion is indeed the first one to his feet and he kicks the rising Cartwright sharply in the chest, knocking the wind out of the challenger. Lloyd Rees steels himself, wincing as he shifts his weight to let his right leg take its fair share then grabs Cartwright. Lloyd Rees lifts Evan Cartwright up over his head in an impressive display of strength, then flexes his arms and pushes him up in a gorilla press. Just before Lloyd Rees can drop Cartwright, Evan wriggles out of his grip and slides down his back. Waistlock from Cartwright, into a backwards rollup! Cartwright has an upside Lloyd's legs trapped between his own for the pin, but he doesn't hold it long enough for Sharplin to make even a one count. Cartwright grabs both of Lloyd's legs and goes for the Cartwheel, straining against the pain in his back... up, up, Rees yanks his legs free and hooks Cartwright's head. Before he can fall for the bulldog, Evan Cartwright braces both hands on the champion's back and shoves hard. Lloyd sails a few feet through the air, twisting and landing on his feet facing Evan Cartwright. Rees charges back and Evan hits the deck, forcing Rees to leap over his prone form. Lloyd Rees hits the ropes and Evan spins on the mat, taking a page out of Chris Casino's book and nipping up into a hurricarana attempt! NO! Lloyd Rees catches his feet and steps over the hanging Cartwright, trying to sit out into a boston crab! Cartwright twists his upper body under Lloyd and then kicks him off sideways. Lloyd stumbles and falls onto the middle rope as Cartwright regains his feet. Cartwright runs at the suspended champion and leaps into the air, but Rees isn't there, sliding back off the ropes. Cartwright catches himself on the second rope and springs backwards with a corkscrew clothesline towards the rising Rees. Lloyd Rees with a matrix dodge to avoid the attack and Cartwright rolls right back to his feet and bounces off the ropes. Cartwright, running back, catches one of Lloyd's arms and swings around his back, catching his other arm and dragging him backwards for a crucifix pin; ONE! TWO! Lloyd rolls through the hold, coming back to his feet with Cartwright still locking both of his arms. Rees takes a running three steps towards the corner and then dives into a forward somersault, planting Cartwright on his back and freeing his arms. Lloyd rolls to his feet and jumps to the second turnbuckle, springing up to the top with no hands and turning in the air for a perfect moonsault... Cartwright rolls out of the way! Lloyd lands on his feet! Cartwright comes up in the corner and just avoids a rushing knee from Lloyd Rees! Evan Cartwright whips the staggered champion off the ropes and ducks his head prematurely for a back body drop. Lloyd Rees leaps over the bent back of the challenger and hooks him for a sunset flip; ONE! TW-Cartwright back somersaults out of the hold and grabs both of Lloyd's legs, flipping him over and sitting out into a boston crab! Evan Cartwright has it locked in! BILL HEWSON: This could be it! Cartwright did not get off the wheelbarrow suplex portion of the Cartwheel, but there is nobody better at applying the boston crab than that man! What a final burst of energy from both of these competitors! JACK JONES: Don't do it, Lloyd! Think of all your fans! Lloyd Rees is fighting with everything he has, stretching his hands towards the ropes, but they may as well be in another country. Lloyd screams as Cartwright sits back in the hold, his legs captured tightly under each muscular arm. Rees claws at his hair and face and shakes his head wildly as Sharplin asks him if he wants to submit. Lloyd is locked in the center of the ring, but still he battles, thrashing his body, trying to throw off the resilient Cartwright to no effect. Finally it seems like the life goes out of him and he slumps to the mat, one hand hovering on the verge of tapping. Evan Cartwright is nodding his head, almost begging for Lloyd to drop his hand and end the match. Lloyd's hand shakes, just inches off the mat, his eyes closed, teeth gritted to stop the constant groan of pain from becoming an out and out scream. His hand begins to descend towards the mat... then clenches into a fist! You might not like the man, but you have to respect him as he leverages himself up on both forearms and begins to slow, torturous crawl towards the ropes. Lloyd makes it halfway there before Cartwright stands up to adjust his grip, allowing the champion a few more inches, then sits back again, practically balancing Rees up on his chin! Still Rees reaches one hand out and digs his fingers into the canvas, pulling himself forward. Evan Cartwright can't believe it, but he is being forced towards the ropes again! Every muscle in Cartwright's body is standing rigidly as he tries to keep the hold in and prevent Lloyd from moving... but he cannot! Lloyd again gets his chest off the mat, teeth on the point of breaking from how hard his jaw is clenched, and inches towards the ropes. Sweat pours into his eyes, doubling the vision of his goal as he crawls towards them. Sharplin watches intently, Cartwright shakes his head and hauls back with all of his might as Lloyd strains out across the span of infinity that the last few inches represent. Lloyd's left arm collapses under him as he reaches forward with his right, fingers brushing the stray fibers of the bottom rope. Sharplin's face is just inches away, ready to call for the break the instant Rees can reach... Lloyd slumps to the mat, arm extended but just not far enough. Cartwright wrenches hard as the fight goes out of his prey, and Sharplin gets ready to call for the bell... Lloyd Rees lunges forward, every muscle screaming against it as his hand shoots out and... and... GRABS THE BOTTOM ROPE! BILL HEWSON: He did it! BY GOD HE DID IT! You don't have to like anything about him, but you absolutely have to respect the tenacity and the pure toughness and heart of Lloyd Rees! JACK JONES: YES! Yes he did, Hewson! You doubted him, but I knew it all along! Lloyd Rees for Prime Minister! Evan Cartwright releases the hold in despair, collapsing to the mat exhausted when Sharplin tells him that Lloyd has the rope. The champion's hand falls from the bottom rope the instant the pressure is gone, and both men lie there for a long moment. Evan Cartwright slowly turns around on the mat, his eyes going to the bottom rope and Lloyd's hand laying just an inch away from it now. With a wild light in his eyes, Evan Cartwright springs forward and grabs both of Lloyd's legs. The champion, realizing what is happening, shoots his hands out for the ropes again... and misses! Just an instant too late and Cartwright lifts him off the mat with a scream to match the shrieking muscles in his back; wheelbarrow suplex! Lloyd Rees crashes down on the back of his neck and Evan Cartwright turns him over into the Cartwheel! The champion's head shoots up and now he screams. Long and loud, he screams to shake the ring and vibrate the ceiling. Lloyd Rees fights, clawing the mat, but cannot make any forward progress this time. He lifts himself up on his forearms, but weary muscles collapse as their owner asks too much of them. His teeth sink into the canvas and his eyes close as he fights with his body and mind to avoid doing what seems inevitable. Evan Cartwright is leaning back so far it looks like his head may touch the mat, and Lloyd Rees reaches weak hands forward in a final attempt to get towards the ropes, but can do no more than leave streaks of sweat along the canvas. Ol' Salty looks ready to slide under the ropes, but Chris Casino has him in a weak grip that is still enough to keep him on the outside. Lloyd Rees raises his right hand just over the mat, and with his eyes closed as if he cannot bear to see it, he taps twice on the mat. Sharplin leaps to his feet and calls for the bell, Evan Cartwright falling forward as soon as he hears it. JACK JONES: Nooooo! FRANK WARBURTON: The winner of the third and final fall, and your NEW PROVINCIAL CHAMPION... EVAN... CAAAAARTWRIGHT! Evan Cartwright can do no more than sit on the mat, staring in vague comprehension as Frank Warburton makes the announcement and John Sharplin hands him the NAPW Provincial title, raising his arm while he sits there on the mat. Lloyd Rees, using the ropes to even get this far, pulls himself to a sitting position and stares across the ring at his opponent. Evan Cartwright slowly gets to his feet, draping the belt over one shoulder and leaning perceptibly to that side with even a small amount of added weight. The new champion limps across the ring to the old, who pulls himself to his feet as well, despite the crippling pain in his back. Evan Cartwright and Lloyd Rees stare at each other, ending the match the same way they started it, with a heated stare down. Finally Evan Cartwright raises one hand and holds it out towards his opponent, to an explosive cheer from the crowd. BILL HEWSON: A show of respect from Evan Cartwright after one hell of a match, not that I expect Lloyd Rees to- Rees, shocking almost everyone in the hall, including a wide-eyed Ol' Salty, takes the proffered hand and gives it a firm shake, the vestige of a smile quirking the corner of his mouth. Cartwright begins to turn away, but Lloyd Rees pulls him back around and for a moment it seems like this might explode again. But Rees just raises his other hand and slaps the Provincial Title belt twice, the smile growing. This might be over for now, but Lloyd Rees is never going to be out of the picture after the match they had tonight. Rees releases Cartwright's hand and rolls out of the ring, taking the help offered by Ol' Salty as they retreat up the aisle to the back. Chris Casino joins Evan Cartwright in the ring as Cartwright goes from corner to corner, holding the belt aloft to the strains of "Freddie's Dead", basking in the explosive cheers of the NAPW fans in attendance. Casino claps madly for his long-time friend and partner as Cartwright, exhausted but victorious, celebrates with the Provincial Championship. BILL HEWSON: There you have it folks, our new Provincial Champion, a man who fought like hell to regain his title for you tonight; Evan Cartwright! JACK JONES: It should be illegal for one man to have that much gold! BILL HEWSON: D-X will certainly try to relieve him of some of it next week. When we come back, though... one letter, said real loud! D! will be here! Don't touch that dial! WAIT JUST A DAMN MINUTE! Evan Cartwright and Chris Casino embrace, Casino grinning hugely. Evan turns around...
But Chris Casino's grin is gone. Chris Casino plants the sole of his foot across the face of Evan Cartwright. BILL HEWSON: What in the HELL - JACK JONES: HOLY HELL - And quickly, without any warning, Casino hooks Cartwright's arms, twists, and sends a smirk out to the crowd and the viewers at home. Then... he plants him. BANKRUPT. Cartwright is down, Cartwright is down and out and Chris Casino has his arms wide, arms wide and head tilted back, basking in the growing hatred of the crowd. He looks down at Evan Cartwright, and prepares to leave. Bill Kryenik was injured earlier on, so thank God Casino is leaving. But he doesn't leave. The glint of gold catches Casino's eye. Provincial gold. He grabs the belt, and picks it up in his hands, gazing down into the face of it. He looks over at Cartwright, an expression of pure hatred in his face. He grabs the belt and holds it into Evan's face, talking quietly to him. We can't hear it, but clearly the words are full of bitterness. Casino drapes the belt on the canvas and hauls a punch-drunk, dazed Cartwright up and hooks the arms one more time. BILL HEWSON: NO NOT AGAIN - JACK JONES: HOLY HELL NOT AGAIN - Bankrupt on the title belt.
Chris Casino grins.
JACK JONES: Bankrupt on the Provincial Title belt. BILL HEWSON: I'm shocked you're not salivating and cheering the man for it. JACK JONES: I've wanted Chris Casino to get back to his NAPW Title winning ways for ages, to stop caring about what these fans think. But for the life of me I don't know why he did what he did to Evan Cartwright... The announcers go silent, the crowd still in a fair bit of shock at what they have seen. The silence is broken by possibly the best music the situation could offer, however! "RIIIIGHT... BEFOOORE MYYY EYES!" BILL HEWSON: It's the most recognizable tune in NAPW, by Canada's own The Snitches, and it heralds THIS man coming down to the ring--D! W JACK JONES: May I recommend the fabulous other commercials on some of the other stations? BILL HEWSON: You HATE D!, Jones. Admit it. JACK JONES: That attention whore wasn't even BOOKED tonight. We could be watching a MATCH instead. Think of our hard-working wrestlers who NEED TV Time. He's practically taking food off of the table from El Mentiroso and Whitney Sarven! BILL HEWSON: Sarven left the company, Jack. JACK JONES: And D! SWOOPS in like a vulture! Having high-fived every fan en route to the ring--sometimes TWICE--an proudly wearing a throwback Oilers toque, the devilish young man called D! finally hits the ring and motions for the ring crew to toss him a mic. He snatches it out of mid-air and holds his hand up in the air, signalling the music to fade out and the crowd to let him get a word in edgewise. D!: The big question! The question all of the fans are asking me! The question that all of my friends are asking me! The question people in the locker room are asking me! Even Stylin' Kyle Roberts, oh yeah, Stylin' Kyle, in the ring last week, givin' me the LOW BLOW, lingering up there, making me feel uncomfortable, even The Man With Sack On His Hands was asking me "D! . . . when are you going to challenge for the TV Title?" Oh yeah, the TV Title! Why don't I just use my considerable backstage clout and stick myself in the match, make it a five-way? Hell, it'll be fun! I can walk over to the one side of the ring, watch Lobo and Wayne Wright go at it, admire the padded helmets the hospital gave 'em, watch 'em get confused, try to pin themselves--OR! I can walk here to the OTHER end of the ring, watch Travelli and Uzi tear it up, feel embarrassed for the Italians, feel embarrassed for the Jews, maybe track down an Inuit husky-molester, teach him three moves, and we can embarrass some Eskimos while we're at it! OR! Mebbe I could stack 'em all in the corner, warm up my snazzy, flamey boots, get to runnin', and smoosh 'em all with a Stinger Splash! And hit 'em HARD! Hit 'em so HARD that they get crushed--or better yet, COMBINE! Combine into some uber-jobber with a cleft palate, a stupid gimmick, some completely MADE-UP accent and the wrestling ability of a dehydrated, spastic orangutan... ... but on the other hand, ONE Lloyd Rees is CLEARLY enough. So NO to that idea. But gee, guys, it seems to me like I don't have a lot of OTHER title opportunities open to me, so I might think about it. In the mean time, I'll just be busy in the Tournament of Champions, taking on OTHER champions, two-bit low-rent thalidomide victims with stupid names like Professor Tremendous, Karina Wolfenden and Bayman Jakey. So to be honest, that's something I really want to win, to prove myself as a champion, to bring myself to a whole new LEVEL of competition, and most importantly of all... to represent the NAPW... to the WORLD. But I don't need to tell all of y'all how important the Tee-Oh-See is, and frankly, that's not what you all want to hear me talk about, either. Let's get to the brass tacks. Lets'a talk about... Paulina. JACK JONES: Finally! Talk about what's important to the FANS! BILL HEWSON: You hush! D!: You see, here's the thing. I feel badly, because what started out as an innocent joke back in Seattle has clearly gone waaaay out of hand. I had mentioned how I thought Wayne Gretzky's daughter was cute, and that I should meet her. Ha ha ha! Big laugh! I laughed... and I ain't laughing now. Y'see, someWHERE, someHOW, the current NAPW Champion has got it in his head that I can be bought and sold. And he and Longshot have been doing EVERYTHING in their power to do it. The best of hotels! The most awesome of hosts! And now--and NOW, a beautiful, BEAUTIFUL young blonde temptress watching my every move. Well GUESS WHAT, fellas? It AIN'T working! Oh, you can TRY. You can keep plying me with gifts like a Kawasaki Ninja motorcycle! Try it and see if it works! You COULD bribe me with one of them X-Box Three-Sixties! You COULD send me fruit baskets, knowing in advance that I goddamn love papayas. You COULD send me all of these specific gifts, but is it gonna WORK? HA! I am saying "HA!" in a derisive tone! I'm not YOU, Longshot, I don't need to BUY my way into a damn thing! I'm not YOU, Devastation! I don't spend my day hanging out with sycophants and OTHER rich creeps! No! Everything I ever GOT, everything I ever DID, that came from he sweat off my brow! You think you can just blow into town and CHANGE me, BUY me like a two-dollar whore? Well, if after all of this time you ain't got the message, well... hire someone to EXPLAIN it to you. But this next part's for Paulina... Paulina, geez, look. Get yourself OUT of this mess. You're just a KID. You think your "Uncle Dev" is a swell guy, you think I'm hot... well, that's not so bad. You think Ravager's a violent, two-faced jerk... well, that's not actually bad, either. Can someone tell me where I'm going with this? Hang on, hang on, I got it. PAULINA. Look. This is nuts. You've never even TALKED to me. You've never even MET me. I'm sure under... I don't know... NORMAL circumstances, you'd never even notice a guy like me. Y'know, cutie, I'd LOVE to get to know you better, but while you're being used as a bargaining chip, well... well, don't let yourself get USED. Run, don't walk, RUN the Hell away from the Trust. They don't OWN you, and you don't OWE them. Go back to your family, start thinking about your own life, and hey, after all of that, if you STILL want to get to know me, well... I'd be ENCHANTED, madame. There, NAP-heads, I've said what needs to be said. This is Monday Night FIGHTS, not "Monday Night D! Has to Justify Himself In Front Of a Live Crowd!" Time for me to be a model spectator--that is, stay out of the ring, not attack the wrestlers, and above all, TURN OFF MY CELLPH-- "Not a lotta bling! When he do the thing, bada boom, BADA BING!" BILL HEWSON: And it looks like joining D! is one of his teammates from the War Games match at Complete Control! Static hasn't been booked for the past couple of weeks... JACK JONES: Makes me wonder what he wants, Bill. You'd think he'd take the time off to rest his head, y'know, get some therepy or something... As D! waits with mild surprise at the interruption, a screwdriver-brandishing, street-clothes wearing Static plays to the crowd for a second on the entrance ramp with a mic. STATIC: D! My man! Hate to interrupt, buddy, my apologies. I don't think that I'm the only one who wants to hear the complete story of what's really going on between you and Paulina, but I guess that's gonna have to wait for the DVD. Someday! But like you, D!, I'm growing kinda bored in the back. I'm kinda restless. I'm here tonight to back up my fellow Crime in case of emergency, but man, I haven't been booked the past couple of weeks. Nothing tonight, hell, your man's on Action! this week against Stein. Kinda surprising, I know. Perhaps you and I could sit down and talk about that freak later on tonight over a few beers, eh? But first, there's something else I wanted to talk to you about. JACK JONES: What could Static want to talk about? STATIC: Y'know, last week wasn't all restlessness and boredom. Rex Caliber and I stood in the middle of this ring, (Static climbs through the ropes) and attempted to give a heartfelt send-off to Pit Boss. Unfortunately, it was kinda, y'know, cut off, by two guys in masks. Put a pretty big damper on the whole night. Now, since then, Rex has himself all caught up in Chris Casino and I'm left playing fifth wheel. Leaves me plenty of time to sit and wonder what the hell happened. Y'know, D!, that whole stuff about Devastation buying out one of the members of the NAPW Justice League just kinda died in the water, didn't it? Pretty curious. And then these masked men coming to attack Rex and I, really curious. And why Paulina Gretzky is still fooling around with a joker like you... Ouch. STATIC: Really, REALLY curious. So D!, I know that this has come up before, but it's time to revisit this little debate. Just where do you fit in in this puzzle? Where do you fit in? Screwdriver, out. Tension. D!: You know, Static, unless you're planning on adjusting yourself, I'd put that thing away. STATIC: Sorry, dog, I just can't help noticing how I tend to get DIRECT ANSWERS when I've got my hardware out. D!: So what's the question? Is it "Do I look like a (BLEEP)ing goof when I hold a screwdriver?" STATIC: Funny. What does the "D" stand for, anyways? "Dig yourself a hole?" D!: Oh, hey, name jokes. Yknow, I think I just figured out why you're called "Static". Because when you're on the mic, no one can figure out what the hell you're saying. STATIC: Hey, Relic from the Beachcombers called. He wants his toque back. D!: Hey, a small village in Europe called. They want their idiot back. STATIC: Hey, John Cena called. He wants his move set back. D!: Hey, someone called from somewhere. He says you look like a (BLEEP)ing goof when you hold a screwdriver. The crowd is cheering, calling out both men's names. STATIC: Look, just look me in the eyes and tell me what you gotta say, and we can both go to the back happy, drinks on me. D!: Tell you--I JUST went through this! Why am I repeating myself? STATIC: I saw you walk around this RING and tell everybody... but you haven't looked me in the EYES and told me. D! looks pissed-off at this suggestion. D!: You can't be serious. STATIC: I'm DEAD serious, doc. You LOOK me in the eyes and you tell me you're not part of this. D!: So, what? You can tell if I'm lyin' or somethin'? STATIC: Matter of fact, yeah. D!: This is bull. Why can't you just trust me, Static? STATIC: Gimme a reason to trust you. Look into --- no. RIGHT before my eyes. Tell me to my FACE. D!: Guilty until proven innocent, huh? STATIC: Why are you STALLING? D!: FINE. D! steps right up to Static and bumps chests with him, getting right in his face and locking eyes. D!: You want te TRUTH, peanut? Well, here it IS-- WHAM! And right then, at the penultimate moment, the two masked men intercede, attacking Static and D! BILL HEWSON: For the love of God, not again! D! and Static being assaulted by the Masked Men --- JACK JONES: Did you say... D! AND Static, Bill Hewson? BILL HEWSON: What the --- wait a minute! The Masked Men are double-teaming Static, but they're not looking in D!'s direction! What's going on here! The Masked Men continue to beat down Static, as D! stands, momentarily stunned. He snaps into action suddenly, yanking one of the Masked Men off of Static --- the man drops like he's been shot. In the back. With a bazooka. Rolling in pain, he rolls out of the ring. D! looks at his hands, confused, and then wrenches the second man off of Static. That man? HIT WITH A MOTHEREFFING ABOMB. Roll out of the ring! The Masked Men take off through the crowd as D! looks on in shock! JACK JONES: Holy Hell! Has D! licensed those lethal weapons? BILL HEWSON: They dropped for D! Why in the world would they... unless... no, it can't be! The Masked Men attacked Static and Static only, and then basically laid down for D!... it can't be! JACK JONES: What if... what if it IS? True, that is. BILL HEWSON: I don't even want to think about it. Meanwhile, the crowd is confused, and D! is confused, and Static... is in a corner, sitting Raven-like, staring thoughtfully/suspiciously in D!'s direction. Rex Caliber has come rushing, but the masked men are already gone, and he confers with Static in the corner. D! looks at them both, emitting a "For God's sake, guys! I have NOTHING to do with this!" in exasperation. Static flips out of the ring... BILL HEWSON: An unexpected turn of events right here... but we're heading to commercial. When we come back! Rex Caliber will take on the turncoat Chris Casino! You WON'T want to miss this!
REX CALIBER: Last night the Edmonton Oilers beat the San Jose Sharks 6-3, leading the series 3-2! And that's great, but tonight, we don't get to celebrate... because a son of a bitch like CHRIS CASINO showed his true colors! The crowd boos at the name of Chris "HATED" Casino. Caliber is FIRED UP. REX CALIBER: Everybody asked me "Rex, why are you so damn paranoid of Casino?" "Rex, Casino's a good guy now! He's changed!" "Rex, what is your friggin' problem with Chris Casino?" What happened earlier tonight to a great wrestler, that's what the problem is! CHRIS CASINO is the problem! I guess I was the only one who remembered the REAL Chris Casino... And I'm sorry that Evan Cartwright had to go get six staples in his head at Royal Alex because of it! BILL HEWSON: Strong words from Rex Caliber tonight! REX CALIBER: Now I came out here to do two things. First I'm gonna announce that I have SIGNED on the dotted line to face the winner of tonight's main event...and I don't care which one it is... at EPIC on June 5th for the HEAVYWEIGHT TITLE! But tonight, I'm going to do the first thing on my list, and that's beat the living hell out of CHRIS CASINO. So CHRIS! Get your pathetic ass out here, into my ring, and prepare to feel a PLANETARY COLLISION! JACK JONES: He's calling him out, Bill Hewson! "IT'S JUST LIKE THE OCEAN, UNDER THE MOON! Santana and Rob Thomas kick in, and Smooth plays. Caliber paces the ring with fury in his steps as Casino's music plays. And plays. And plays. BILL HEWSON: Wait a minute...where the hell is Chris Casino? Suddenly, the big screen lights up with the face of Chris Casino... in the back of a limosuine. The crowd boos like mad. CHRIS CASINO: Sexy Rexy, don't get your little pink panties in a twist. Now there's nothing I'd like better to do tonight then Bankrupt your sports-club owning Wanna-be Canadian ass, but you know what? That's a lie. Because I already did what I wanted to do tonight, putting that pathetic loser Evan Cartwright out of commission. That bunch of dirty Canadians you pander to can kiss my American ass, NOT get to see me in action tonight, and LIKE it. So Rexy, you look forward to your title shot. Because when you get there, expect to be Bankrupted just like little old Evan was, because I'm Chris Casino... and I am the FUTURE of the NAPW. Bitch! The screen flickers out and the crowd begins to boo. Rex Caliber throws the microphone down in anger, clearly frustrated beyond all get out. The fans expect something, anything, but Rex Caliber just storms out and up the ramp. BILL HEWSON: Some kind of man, Jack Jones. If Chris Casino's the future then somebody better invent a time machine - and fast. Up next: The Main Event! And it won't be cancelled by a chump no-show! We'll be right back!
BILL HEWSON: Welcome back to Monday Night Fights. In just a few moments the main event will take place, but what about Chris Casino tonight, Jack Attack? What a scumbag! JACK JONES: For telling the fans where to go? Chris Casino is at his BEST when he does what he wants, when he wants. But even I'm shocked at what he did to Evan Cartwright. They're BFF! BILL HEWSON: Best Friends Forever... no more! We've received word that Evan Cartwright has suffered no serious injury from being Bankrupted onto the Provincial Title belt, he is not concussed, but he has been taken to Royal Alexandra hospital where he's received 6 staples to seal his forehead. How is he going to respond to this attack? "PATH". JACK JONES: No time for love, Dr. Jones! We're looking at a Heavyweight title match! The crowd erupts as Apocalyptica builds, builds, and then: RAVAGER steps through the curtain. Wearing a number 12 "MARLEAU" San Jose Sharks jersey. Half of the Edmonton crowd begins to boo the colors of Edmonton's semi-final opponents. Ravager strides purposefully to the ring, wearing just the hint of a grin? Tiffany Macintyre is just steps behind him, looking quite pleased with herself? JACK JONES: Now why are these two looking so chipper? Ravager isn't getting any money WHEN he loses, he has to wear a Sharks jersey to the ring... BILL HEWSON: Ravager signing a very one-sided contract for this title match. But you're right, he and Tiffany do look quite pleased despite all of that... The challenger gets in the ring, followed by Tiffany. The crowd is mostly cheering, although a "BEAT EM UP OILERS, BEAT EM UP!" chant has broken out among the hockey mad Edmontonians. Ravager signals for a microphone. The Oilers chant continue as Ravager stands, still wearing a hint of a smile. Finally, he begins to talk, quieting the crowd. RAVAGER: What was it, 6-3 last night? (crowd ROARS stupidly loud. HOCKEY MAD, I TELLS YA.) That's what I thought. Most of you probably know why I'm wearing the teal of San Jose (BOO) tonight. I just wanted to complement Devatastation that contract. He really put me in a bad situation here. BILL HEWSON: ... is Ravager complimenting Devastation? JACK JONES: About time Ravager showed some respect for the CHAMPION. The crowd seems mildly confused as Ravager goes on. RAVAGER: Well, Devastation, you're getting everything you want out of this match contract. But your lawyer missed something when he drew it up. You know, I get it. You're confident. Maybe too confident. Dramatic pause. RAVAGER: So confident... that you didn't bother to ask for any sort of rematch clause. BILL HEWSON: WHAT? RAVAGER: Here's the thing about rematch clauses. They're great if you're not sure you're going to win. A nice little insurance policy. But you must be really comnfident that you have me where you want me. But even then... even then...I don't see a man such as you not preparing for all the eventualities. So I'm guessing that your lawyer just overlooked it. So, to be fair, I'll make a gentlemen's agreement that you get a title shot if I win. I mean, eventually. I'm sure there'll be a line up... But listen. You have me out here in a Sharks jersey tonight. If you want your rematch, then you and Longshot come to ringside wearing what Tiffany gave to you later. It's a non-verbal signal. Come to ringside wearing what we've given you, or there's no rematch for you... EVER. Now get your ass out here! Ravager throws down the mic and cracks his knuckles. "BURN, MOTHER(BLEEP)ER... MOTHER(BLEEP)ER BURN!" There's a momentary pause... and then Longshot comes out through the curtain... wearing a Number 12 jersey. A CALGARY FLAMES Jarome Iginla Number 12 jersey. With a target on the back. Longshot tenderly begins to come down the aisle on crutches as Bloodhound Gang plays. JACK JONES: What...what a trooper! Poor Longshot, crippled permanently by the Masked Men who attacked him months ago... still coming to support his man! And daring to wear the colors of HATED CALGARY in hockey mad Edmonton! Longshot comes halfway down the ramp, Ravager looking on with a smirk. The crowd begins to chant "FLAMES SUCK, FLAMES SUCK" becuase hot damn, they hate Calgary sports teams! Longshot looks valiant and brave, like a dashing knight of Camelot... stop that. Longshot stops, looking back... And out storms a pissed off Devastation, title belt around his waist. He is pointedly NOT wearing any sort of funny outfit. Longshot gulps, looking upset. "Dev! Where's the Kipprusoff jersey?" Devastation shakes his head at Longshot, ignoring his agents advice, whips off the title belt, and hauls his 6'8" frame into the ring. Ravager immediately meets him with stomps! Devastation hauls up, and now it's five-ten versus six-eight, but Ravager is taking the fight right to the champion. Right hands, right hands, stiff shots! Devastation is staggered, backed against the ropes. Ravager hauls back --- CHOP! WHOOO! CHOP! WHOOO! CHOP! WHOOOO! Devastation's chest begins to swelter, and Ravager takes his arm for an irish whip. Devastation puts on the brakes and reverses, Ravager rebounds, ducks the LARIATOOOO, rebound again! Ravager explodes off the ropes and catches Devastation with an STO! COVER! ONE! TWO! Devastation throws Ravager off of him! BILL HEWSON: Ravager with a near fall in the early going, but the champion is so powerful! JACK JONES: How many times have you seen Ravager at this kind of size disadvantage? He can't even hit his signature moves on Devastation. You think he's going to hit the Muscle Buster on three-hundred and five pounds of CHAMPION? BILL HEWSON: I don't know what Ravager will do in this match, but he always has a strategy. He's got something in mind to use against Devastation and win the title! Ravager back to the chops, keeping Devastation on the ropes. Ravager charges, Devastation lifts him over the shoulder and over the top rope! But wait, Ravager lands on his feet on the ring apron. Devastation spins around and gets a shoulder right to his gut. Another one doubles Devastation over, and Ravager uses the ropes to hit a sunset flip back into the ring! He's trying to get Devastation over... and the champion reaches down and picks Ravager up. He's got Ravager on his shoulder and CHARGES into the corner --- Ravager wriggles out! Devastation crashes sternum first into the turnbuckle, and Ravager catches him with a roll-up! ONE! TWO! KICK OUT. Devastation gets back up, Ravager toe kicks him in the gut and nails a DDT! ONE! TWO! Devastation kicks out of that in a hurry, but he's just that much slower to get up this time. Ravager locks his hands together, signalling for the Last Resort. Devastation back to his feet, Ravager reaches around from behind, he's trying to get the full-nelson around the champion's huge shoulders and neck, he just needs to lock the fingers... Devastation pushes backwards and squashes Ravager between himself and the turnbuckle. Face-to-Face, and Devastation hauls the Marleau jersey over Ravager's head. He's jersied Ravager! Shots to the face, Tie Domi style! The Vicious Phenom lowers the boom on Ravager with authority, dropping the challenger to the canvas. Arm raise to the crowd draws a huge chorus of boos as Longshot applauds on the outside. BILL HEWSON: And Devastation, underhanded or not, finally puts a stop to Ravager's momentum. Near-falls in the early going... and we must note that Devastation is NOT wearing a jersey like Longshot, despite Longshot's pleas to do so. That means Devastation does NOT get a title rematch! JACK JONES: Devastation is so confident he can win this match, Bill Hewson. Ravager needs to win it in the early going, because the longer the match goes, the more it favors the champion. He's got the size and endurance to take so much punishment. BILL HEWSON: But let's not forget the punishment we've seen Ravager endure! Falls Count Anyhwere! War Games! Mr. Business Is Business can take a lot, and that's what this TITLE MATCH is going to come down to. How many of Devastation's power moves can Ravager take? JACK JONES: We're about to find out, LOOK OUT~! Ravager manages to get the jersey back down, but that's all the time Devastation needs to nail him with a GOURDBUSTER. Devastation drives Ravager down, and then covers. One! TWO! Ravager kicks out. Devastation drops an elbow in Ravager's chest. Another! Another! Three big elbow-drops, lateral press gets TWO. Devastation smirks as he pulls Ravager up by the shiny, luxurious black hair. Ravager must use good conditioner. Devastation hooks the arms...butterfly suplex! Leg hooked! ONE! TWO! Only two, Ravager kicks out again. Devastation says enough of this, and he picks Ravager up again... Ravager is on Devastation's shoulders! BURNING HAMMER coming up --- Ravager isn't dead yet! He wriggles off, landing back to back with Devastation. RANDY ORTON BACKBREAKER! And that puts Devastation down, but Ravager isn't so quick to get up himself. Hold the phone, KIP UP! And Ravager tears the Sharks jersey off to a HUGE ovation, chucking it into the crowd. Neck CRACK. INTIMIDATION. Devastation takes his feet, and Ravager hooks him... NORTHERN LIGHTS SUPLEX? He can't! Ravager can't get Devastation over! STOMP THE FOOT! Ravager stomps Dev's foot, Devastation hops on one foot, and Ravager uses Devastation's own momentum to get him over! Connects! Bridge! ONE! TWO! TH---Devastation kicks out!
BILL HEWSON: Can you believe Ravager getting Devastation over with the Northern Lights Suplex! Ravager is, pound-for-pound, one of the most intelligent ring tacticians in wrestling today! JACK JONES: But he's got to put Devastation away! He can be Stephen Freaking Hawking, but if he doesn't put Devastation away, he's not...THE CHAMPION! Ravager draws the thumb across the throat, because you see, it's OVER. Devastation gets up, clearly shocked and stunned by the Northern Lights Suplex. Ravager wraps his hands around his waist and manages to drive Devastation back-first into the corner. He picks him up, perching Dev on the top rope. HE'S GOING FOR THE MUSCLE BUSTER! Ravager is attempting the Muscle Buster on a man who outweighs him by ninety-five pounds. He's trying to get Devastation into position, not an easy task. Especially not when Devastation starts slugging you across the back of the head and neck with massive right hands. Devastation, still perched on the top rope, has Ravager around the head... GOOD LORD. Devastation hits an ugly, but effective TORNADO DDT! LUCHA DEVASTATION! JACK JONES: And that is what makes Devastation SUCH a champion, Bill Hewson! He can counter from any angle, any move, with something you'd never expect! He saw the position, and decided to hit a move nobody would expect him to use! Ravager will not kick out of that... HE KICKED OUT! BILL HEWSON: Ravager is still alive! He won't die! Ravager will not die, and in a one-on-one situation there is nobody in NAPW who can match him! JACK JONES: Did you forget how he won the title? That wasn't exactly one-on-one! BILL HEWSON: I haven't forgotten, but I know that Ravager is not the kind of man I'd ever expect these fans to cheer. But they're behind "Creative Sportsmanship." This is the Ravager who's exchanged light tubes with Static in Falls Count Anywhere! The man who took out four men in a gauntlet match, including PREDATOR! And you can NOT count him out! Devastation is up, as Ravager lays on his back blinking up at the ceiling, clearly dazed by that HUGE Tornado DDT. Devastation raises his arms for the crowd, then grabs a wrist of Ravager. RAPID-FIRE! ONE short-arm clothesline sends Ravager down, but Dev doesn't release his wrist...hauled up into a SECOND...Ravager is sagging, and Devastation hauls him up for one more! And the third one sends Ravager down like a sack of potatoes, cover, ONE, TWO, THREE! Devastation wins --- wait, no! Referee Dick Kiebiech hit the three count, but at the same time noted Ravager with his foot on the ropes! Kiebiech is telling Devastation no, it was no good! Devastation is arguing with Kiebiech... Ravager from behind! LAST RESORT! LAST RESORT! SOMEHOW HE HIT THE DRAGON SUPLEX! The back of Dev's head bouncing off the canvas, but Ravager is too spent to capitalize. Both men are down, Kiebiech beginning to count... Ravager crawls over and drapes an arm across Devastation! ONE! TWO! THREEEEEE...NOOO! Devastation gets out at the last second! And Ravager can't believe it, he can't believe it as Kiebiech throws two fingers out to communicate the count. BILL HEWSON: So close! So close! What does it take to put either of these men down?! And wait a minute, Longshot is on the canvas! JACK JONES: What a warrior! Longshot has taken himself to the canvas, SOMEHOW, SOME VALIANT WAY, and he's arguing with Kiebiech himself about the count? What the hell? Ravager looks bemused as Devastation begins to haul himself up... hold on just a damn second! From the crowd! A black man in hip-hop clothes hops the guardrail and slides into the ring... SPEAR SPEAR SPEAR! Ravager just got blindsided while Kiebiech was distracted! And now Tiffany is on the ring apron, screaming for Kiebiech to look behind him, but the man is out of the ring and ducking on the ring apron. Kiebiech turns around to see Devastation cover...ONE! TWO! THREE----NOOOO! KICK OUT! KICK OUT! Devastation, now, is shocked, and Longshot begins to argue THAT count even more so! Tiffany's had enough! Tiffany runs to the other side of the ring and YANKS Longshot down to the floor! He collapses as Longshot screams...Devastation grabs Tiffany by the hair! Kiebiech screams at him to let her go... wait a minute! Somebody ELSE just jumped into the ring! What is this, a Jeff Jarrett match? A man in a stylin' suit grabs Ravager... BAM! BELLY TO BACK BRAINBUSTER! And Ravager just got dumped on his head! Devastation lets go of Tiffany, all smiles to Kiebiech, and turns around to see Ravager laid out. He hauls him up... ONTO HIS SHOULDERS... BURNING HAMMER. Ravager is down, Ravager is out, Devastation makes the cover. ONE. TWO. THREE. FRANK WARBURTON: Here is your winner...and STILL HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPEEEEN...DEVASTAAAAAAAATION! Devastation exits the ring, where the man in the suit is helping up Longshot, clutching his leg in agony. Hip-Hop comes over and embraces Devastation...it's a reunion, apparently! Kiebiech hands Devastation the title belt --- he roughly takes it from the referee's hand as the four men go up the rampway. Tiffany slides into the ring, where Ravager is beginning to stir. BILL HEWSON: It took...it took four men to beat Ravager here tonight! But look at this, two men! Two men! They must be the masked men! JACK JONES: Oh come on, you have no proof! Whoever they are, they saw Ravager attempting to cheat against Devastation and just evened the odds! BILL HEWSON: YOU "oh come on", that's bull and you know it! Ravager with a heartbreaking loss tonight, coming up short in his quest to regain the NAPW Title... thanks to those men! There's your champion, Jack Jones! Hope you're proud of Devastation! JACK JONES: Not only am I proud, I'm about a grand richer! Not that I gamble on wrestling or anything... Devastation & Co. pose at the top of the ramp, and then exit through the curtain, presumably to party and celebrate. Ravager is up in the ring, a look of intense disappointment on his face. Tiffany tries to console him, but he refuses her touch. Ravager looks out over the crowd, who begin to chant "YOU GOT SCREWED, YOU GOT SCREWED" repeatly. Ravager looks down again, lips pursed. He shakes his head, looking around the ring, remembering the spear, remembering the brainbuster, remembering the Burning Hammer. Suddenly he grabs the microphone. RAVAGER: It took four men, Devastation. FOUR MEN. You know what? I'm sick and tired of this. Sick and tired of attacks, sick and tired of being double-teamed, triple-teamed. Where were my 'allies' tonight? Where was my legitimate title shot? What's pure about this? Devastation can't even cheat on his OWN. Pause. RAVAGER: You know what? I'm done with this. Ravager throws the microphone down and rolls out of the ring, leaving the crowd shocked. Tiffany doesn't know what to do as Ravager begins to walk back, not looking back once. JACK JONES: ...What does that mean? What does "I'm done with this" mean? Did Ravager just QUIT NAPW? BILL HEWSON: I...I don't know! Ravager saying "I'm done with this" and walking out... we're out of time! I have no answers to give you! For Jack Jones, this is Bill Hewson saying GOOD NIGHT!
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