WEDNESDAY. NIGHT. FIGHTS.06/14/2006
It's Big Sugar! It's "All hell For A Basement!" And that can only mean that it's THE MOOSE, who enters to a reasonable reaction as soon as Wednesday Night Fights fade in. The Polish Hall is only about three-quarters full this night, and it's no surprise - Edmonton fans are glued to the television for game five of the Stanley Cup Finals. BILL HEWSON: Good evening everyone and welcome to a special one-night only edition of NAPW WEDNESDAY Night Fights! I'm Bill Hewson alongside the venerable Jack "Attack" Jones, and we have a great show for you tonight! The tag titles will be on the line! JACK JONES: A great show to watch during hockey commercial breaks, I'm sure. Look at The Moose's beard today! It's... it's alive! BILL HEWSON: Perhaps The Moose grew a playoff beard...out of his beard. Obviously there's no doubt where this man's allegiances lie, that Oilers jersey makes things pretty clear RON BARKER! Oh my gosh! From behind The Moose with that steel chair! These men are scheduled to face off right now... JACK JONES: Maybe Ron's a Carolina fan! LIke that no-good NAPW champ Rex Caliber! BILL HEWSON: Now come on, this is uncalled for, do it in the ring --- PERFECTION! That spinning uranage right on the NAPW entrance way! And Moose is in no condition to wrestle now after that sneak attack from Ron Barker, what a lousy turn of events! Ron Barker snorts arrogantly at the dazed Moose. NAPW's head trainer Pat O'Connel is out checking on Moose, confirming that this man "can't wrestle tonight!" while shooting a disgusted glare at Ron Barker. Barker hits the ring and yanks the microphone out of Frank Warburton's stunned hands as the crowd gives him what-for. RON BARKER: Go ahead and boo, Edmonton fans. Give it an hour, and the Hurricanes will give you something to REALLY boo about. BILL HEWSON: Now that's just low. RON BARKER: I can't believe NAPW would book me against... against some kind of wildlife, for goodness' sake. Did you look at that man? You see, I'm "RAVISHING" Ron Barker, not "Touches Strange Woodland Creatures" Ron Barker. It's not my style to expose my perfectly honed body and top-tier technical skills to somebody like The Moose... but I guess NAPW doesn't believe in 'competition.' I should be wrestling for a title belt, right here tonight, but instead I'm curtain jerking! Well NAPW, I'm not LEAVING this ring until somebody worth my time comes through that curtain. I'm going to sit on my chair (unfolds the steel chair and sits down) and I'm not moving a muscle until somebody of real caliber comes out to face me. Starting...now! BILL HEWSON: Big talk from a guy who's wrestled one match in NAPW and lost. We've got a show to do here, we don't have time for this. JACK JONES: Hey, maybe he's got a point. It's not like a win over The Moose is going to get you number one contender status. BILL HEWSON: It's not about that. NAPW is about earning your shots! I won't take anything away from Ron Barker - he's a great wrestler with a successful past. But he has to prove himself in NAPW before getting those title shots... Barker continues to sit, a smug expression on his face, arms folded across his chest. The crowd slowly begins to chant different names... just before they settle on one of three names... BILL HEWSON: I think this crowd wants D! to come out, but he's not here tonight. He's off in the United States for the Tournament Of Champions --- "RIIIIIIIGHT...BEFORE...MYYYY.... EYES!" JACK JONES: What?! And the crowd explodes as...Oh. It's just Wayne Wright. Barker rolls his eyes and shakes his head. Clearly not what he was expecting. JACK JONES: The last time Wayne Wright came out to D!'s music, he got the crap kicked out of him. Well, gotta give him credit for guts, if not brains... BILL HEWSON: Hold on, Jones! Wayne Wright has a microphone! WAYNE WRIGHT: Ron Barker, you shut up! I love Edmonton! And I love NAPW! And unfortunately, the face of NAPW, D!...well, you probably KNEW he wasn't going to be here tonight. Coincidental, eh? Well... there's somebody in the back who takes exception to the stuff you're saying! I'd like to introduce you to a man who takes exception to people thinking they're better than NAPW, and bigger than the rankings... a man who IS here tonight... representing NAPW in the TOURNAMENT OF CHAMPIONS... Ron Barker! IT IS DEEEEEE! "Right Before My Eyes" kicks back up and... D! STORMS OUT OF THE ENTRANCE WAY! He slides into the ring, where he's met by stomps from Ron Barker! Barker with the advantage, throwing rights and lefts towards D!. D! shot to the ropes, irish whip! Barker catches D! for PERFECTION --- D! elbows him in the head and gets out, hits the ropes... Barker with a clothesline, D! ducks, wrap around in the NYQUIL...DRIVER! Barker pops up, dazed, as D! THROWS THE HANDS UP, riling up the small but vocal crowd! D! nails Barker with a side kick to the ribs, a palm strike to the face, he's got Barker on the ropes! Head of steam! And D! clotheslines Barker over the top rope, out of the ring. Barker crashes on the floor outside, stunned. As he struggles to come to, D! motions for the ringside crew to hand him a microphone. D!: Barker, you arrogant prick! You've got the nerve, the AUDACITY to come out here, in front of WITNESSES, smoke Moose with a chair and then make a CHALLENGE? Your CHALLENGE was MOOSE. Honest-to-God better wrestlers than YOU couldn't compete on the FIRST! EVER! Tuesday Night Fights because YOU had their slot, YOU threw out your own match and YOU want MORE? Get, I say GET outta Polish Hall, ya Human Dimwit--only D! may monopolize air-time! Go on! GET! Barker, having had the time to stagger up the ramp, loos back at D!, mouths something inaudible, then disappears behind the curtain. D!: Yeah, good luck to you, too. EDMONTON! ALBERTA! CAAAAAAANADA!! WEDNNNNNNNNESDAY NIGHT FIGHTS!!! We've got EVERYTHING going on! Chris Casino! The Bi-Polar Express! Wrestling! Tommy Deathrow! D-X! Wrestling! The Crimes Crimes CRIMES CRIMES! Wrestling! GOOD TIMES! WRESTLING! You gave us your love, you've given us SEVEN MONTHS of love and support, and in return, we have given you the the bestest, most kick-ass show we knew HOW. And we're doing it . . . for YOU. But wait! Hang on! "Who's missing?" you ask. "Where's the funny-looking guy with the toque? Where's Devastation and the X-Pac Heat Title? Where's the Girl-Suplexing Machine, Ravager?" Well, Hypothetical Harry, those are some interesting questions. And it's going to be an answer that you LIKE. You see, there's this little thing we like to call . . . the TOURNAMENT OF CHAMPIONS. . . . well, it seems like some of you have heard of it. But since anything I talk about is more entertaining than a Ron Barker promo, indulge me a second. Twenty-four . . . CHAMPIONS. Me. Ravager. Devastation. It's NAPW versus EPW. A1E. UCW. NFW. GCW. PRIME. AWC. FUSE. GLOBAL. HEADSTRONG. And there'll be Steelside wrestlers trying to find scalped tickets. Twenty-four talented wrestlers, many of them meeting for the FIRST time! Internet dream match-ups are FINALLY COMING TRUE! But twenty-three wrestlers . . . are going to LOSE. D! smiles, and leans against the ropes. And one of them . . . is gonna WIN. Springing back to the center of the ring. AND BECOME THE CHAMPION! OF! CHAMPIONS! The crowd erupts into a fairly-split "D!" / "RAV-A-GER!" chant. And it's all day, SATURDAY. And NAPW's bringin' home the gold. Ravager! YAAAAAAY! You and I, buddy, we've got HISTORY. We've been partners, rivals, opponents, wary friends, bitter enemies. We're highly-respected ass-kickers in our own rights, and whenever we tangle, we flat-out try to KILL each other. But you know what? Last time I'd checked, in our little game, you were leading on points. Good for you. But KNOW THIS: That's all about to CHANGE. Hope beyond hope that you don't make it too far, because I'll be waiting at the TOP. And I will kick you to the GROUND. Devastation. BOOOOOOOOO! So far, Devastation, you've been LUCKY. You must have had Longshot rub off on you, and that's a mental image nobody needed. Folks? See me after the show for an apology. None of you needed to hear that. Devastation! All of this time, you've been someone ELSE'S problem. When you came here, you were Cartwright and Casino's problem. And then you were STATIC's problem. You cheated me out of Sole Survivor, but I kept my distance because you were REX' problem. And then you were RAVAGER'S problem. and UZI's problem. Well, now that the NAPW Title has been slapped out of your greasy hand? Now that you've resorted to tantrumming yuor way back into people's hearts? Now I'm YOUR problem. Your useless tirade and fugly fake championship were supposed to get the Commish hot and bothered. Didn't happen. You got the NAPW fans bothered, and as it turns out, I'M an NAPW fan. And all of a sudden, Dev, all of a sudden, Sole Survivor seems like it was YESTERDAY to me. Fly all the way to the Tee-of-Cee, Devastation. Go there and tangle with whoever the hell they send you, Lindsey Troy, Vangelus, Jesse Banks, whoever. Enjoy EVERY SINGLE MATCH YOU'RE IN. Because the SECOND we get home . . . I'm gonna spend all of my damned time making sure your next NAPW opponent . . . is ME. You say "FUCK NAPW?" I say . . . "FUCK YOU." PEANUT. The mic pops as D! drops it to the mat. With The Snitches blaring on the PA, D! hops out of the ring, and with a dangerous grin on his mug, goes to slap hands with the fans as he heads up the ramp and to the back. BILL HEWSON: And the challenge has been laid out to the self-proclaimed "FNAPW" Champion, Devastation! I'm just glad somebody's going to put that arrogant blowhard in his place, and who better than D!? JACK JONES: I think D!'s making a big mistake, rejecting all the charity the Trust has offered him. They extended the olive branch to him over these past two months, and this is how D! repays him? Real class.
FRANK WARBURTON: This next contest is a tag team match! Coming to the ring first accompanied by Lance! Weighing in at a combined five-hundred and fifty pounds, they are Dan The Man & Thor Heine...TEAMMMMM MAAAAAAN! "It's A Man's world" plays over the speakers as Dan & Thor emerge from the back. They each strike a manly pose for the booing crowd as their man servant Lance gives the cameras a "thumbs up" BILL HEWSON: Thiiiiiiiiiiiiis should be interesting. JACK JONES: Admit it...You're a closet man fan! BILL HEWSON: Eh? FRANK WARBURTON: And their opponents! They are members of Degeneration neXt, weighing in tonight at a combined five-hundred and twenty-seven pounds... Stylin' Kyle Roberts! Bruce "The Beast" Richards! The New & Improved D-X! "Low" by the Foo Fighters replace the soulful sounds of James Brown and the former three time tag champs step out from behind the curtain to a huge ovation of boos, manager Bill Fleming right behind them. They make their way to the ring ignoring the taunts of the fans along the way. BILL HEWSON: The former Tag Champs look to add another win tonight over what is actually a tough team in Team Man. JACK JONES: *coughs* Man Fan *coughs* The referee quickly gets Lance to the outside and calls for the bell! Dan and Roberts are starting things off and they tie up in the center of the ring. Dan shoves Roberts away like a gnat and does a pose that would make Hulk Hogan envious. Roberts simply smiles and they again tie up. Roberts rakes the eyes of Dan and follows it up with a pair of hard forearm shots to the head! Roberts shoots Dan into the ropes and ties to leapfrog his opponent but Dan puts on the breaks, snatches Roberts out of mid air and powerslams him down to the mat! Dan is quickly back to his feet, kisses his biceps and drops an elbow across the chest of Richards! Dan tags in Thor and the two men Irish whip Kyle Roberts into the far ropes and taking him up and over with a double back drop on the former tag champ. Thor goes for a cover and Roberts kicks out at two! Thor locks in a rear chinlock and grins for the crowd who simply boo the Hell out of him. On the outside Lance is clapping for his men and trading insults with ringside fans. JACK JONES: Well...DX seem to be getting their butts kicked by Barbie and Heidi. BILL HEWSON: Team Man is on the offensive, that's for sure. Roberts is able to maneuver himself out of the rear chinlock and into a side headlock. Thor holds on though, his powerful arms squeezing the head of Roberts. Kyle drives a pair of forearm shots into the side of Thor but he seems to shrug them off. Roberts then hooks Thor and takes him down with a high and tight side suplex! The move causes Thor to break the hold and each man starts to crawl to their respective corner! Thor tags in Dan, who rushes into the ring - just as Roberts tags in "The Beast"! Dan tries to beg off but almost gets decapitated with a brutal clothesline! Thor charges at Richards but is caught with an inverted atomic drop that leaves him staggering! Bruce Richards scoops up Thor and slams him hard to the mat while Dan pulls himself back to his feet behind him. Bruce takes a Manly Lariat to the back of the head that drops him and Roberts tries to re-enter the ring! The referee sends Roberts back to his corner... the distraction is all Team Man needs as they pull Bruce Richards to his feet and MANWICH! Team Man has hit the MANWICH on Bruce Richards, "The Beast" will never be the same again! BILL HEWSON: Who wants a MANWHICH! JACK JONES: Oh GOD. I hope that move killed him because he'll never be right again after that! Dan goes for the cover, but Stylin' Kyle makes the save at 2 and 3/4! The ref sends Kyle back to his corner again. Dan looks stunned and mounts his opponent so he can rain down hard right hands. Dan breaks at the count of four and pulls a dazed Bruce to his feet. From nowhere Bruce drives a knee into the perfect abs of Dan and snaps off a brutal looking pump handle slam! Thor enters the ring, charges at Bruce and takes a drop toe hold from "The Beast" that sends poor Thor headfirst into the groin area of Dan! Lance winces on the outside. BILL HEWSON: Oh. My. Dan rolls across the canvas in pain as Richards tags in Kyle Roberts. DX waits for Thor to get to his feet and nail a double clothesline that sends the big man over the top rope to the floor! Dan is slowly getting to his feet! D-X combine, and nail their Down & Dirty finisher on him! Three seconds later and DX have taken this match! FRANK WARBURTON: Here are your winners... D-X! JACK JONES: Woo-hoo DX win! I wasn't worried for a minute, Hewson! BILL HEWSON: Yeah right. A valiant effort from Team Man but DX walk away with the win tonight, putting the brakes on their losing streak. DX rolls out of the ring as Lance climbs in. He checks on the unmoving Dan and looks to be near tears. Poor, poor Lance. But...where is Col. Giggles?
FRANK WARBURTON: In The ring at this time, accompanied to the ring by Senora Suerte. The First Pure Honor Champion in NAPW History... ELLLLLLL MEEEENNNTTIIIROOOOOSSOOOO! BILL HEWSON: El Mentiroso always receives such a great reaction from this Edmonton crowd. JACK JONES: Who knows why El Mentiroso is even in Canada. If I were a Luchadore I'd be cashing in on the hot Mexican wrestling scene. With guys like Shocker, Mistico, and Ultimo Geurrero leading the way in CMLL, they have become a hot bed for wrestling. BILL HEWSON: Mentiroso defiantly fits that mold too. I think he's a little more diplomatic then the average Mexican superstar. He wants to spread his country's name and show the people what lucha libre is all about. "A Little More" by Skillet hits the airwaves and Carter Owens jumps outs on stage for a decent pop. He makes his way to the ring, sliding under the bottom rope. FRANK WARBURTON: And his opponent, hailing from Toronto Ontario Canada... CAAAAARTEEEERRRRRR OOOOOWWWEEEENNNSSSS! JACK JONES: The Edmonton crowd is never sure what to think of these Eastern wrestlers. BILL HEWSON: Eastern? JACK JONES: Anyone from Ontario and over. They seem to like to get in the case of any Toronto born wrestler. BILL HEWSON: The Edmonton crowd is very unique in that it LOVES the hometown wrestlers. They appreciate everyone, but especially their own. JACK JONES: These people really don't know what they want. They BOO Kyle Roberts and he's an Edmonton native as well. BILL HEWSON: Kyle Roberts could be a card carrying Catholic and they'd still boo him. And technically, Roberts is from Moose Jaw. The Beast is local, but...His actions cancel out his hometown. This crowd lets D-X know every time they comes out here. DING! DING! DING! The bell sounds and both men extend their hands, shaking ceremoniously. Carter and Mentiroso circle one another. Mentiroso dives forward to try and grab hold of a leg but Carter scouts it and jumps back. Mentiroso comes right at him again and they lock up. Owens lifts a knee taking the first advantage. Mentiroso goes for the ride and hits the ropes. Owners bends down, Mentiroso catches himself and slams Owners head backwards onto the canvas. The crowd roars. BILL HEWSON: I've never seen Mentiroso use a move like that! Owens head hit the mat hard! JACK JONES: Maybe Mentiroso is not as respectable as everyone thinks! Maybe heÕs really a Heel in disguise. BILL HEWSON: Not a chance Jack. That man has PRIDE engraved all over him. Mentiroso runs off the ropes, flipping into a Leg drop. Owens grabs his throat as Mentiroso grabs his arms and pulls him to his feet. Japanese arm drag into an extended arm bar. Mentiroso has the hold firmly planted before Owens throws over his free hand and smacks Mentiroso square in the red portion of his mask. Mentiroso lets go of the hold and both men get to their feet. Mentiroso swings with a chop, Owens catches it, hip tossing with the momentum. Mentiroso gets right back up but gets a kick to the gut followed by a Single leg Fishermans Buster. BILL HEWSON: Great move by Carter Owens! Owens gets up ontop of Mentiroso and slaps on an STF, stretching Mentiroso. Mentiroso tries to fight it but Owens size is too much. Mentiroso if forced to grab hold of the ropes. FRANK WARBURTON: El Mentiroso has used ONE ROPE BREAK! The former Pure Honor champion rolls into the corner and pulls himself up. Carter Owens runs in with a Lariat but he eats Turnbuckle with Mentiroso rolling out of the way. Mentiroso unloads a flurry of chops to the chest, grinding Carters chest into hamburger. Mentiroso lifts Owens up to the top ropes. He open palm strikes him again to daze him. Mentiroso jumps up top, HURRICANRANA! Mentiroso capitalizes with a Half Crab submission. Carter goes to grab the ropes but canÕt make it. Mentiroso leans back, extending the leg. Owens moans in pain but eventually over powers the hold, sending Mentiroso into the ring ropes. Owens shakes off the pain and gets to his feet. Mentiroso runs at him, jumping up with Carter scouting this move, WAIT! TORNADO DDT! BILL HEWSON: Carter had that move scouted! But When he helped Mentiroso into the air, he grabbed hold of Owens head and Tornado DDTed him! MY GOD WHAT A MOVE! JACK JONES: I'll give credit where credit is due. Mentiroso had that Tornado DDT in his pocket like an Ace. Mentiroso goes for the cover...one...two... NO! Only a 2 count. Mentiroso gets back to his feet and goes up to the top rope. Owens gets up... FLYING CROSSBODY... But Owens uses the momentum and flips over on top. He snags up the legs...one! Two! No! Mentiroso kicks out. BILL HEWSON: I'm really impressed with some of the counters that Carter Owens has came up with. That was a great test of resilience from the bigger man. Owens gets back to his feet with Mentiroso following suit. Owens kicks him, spins COBRA CLUTCH SUPLEX! Mentiroso rolls his head around, trying to make sense of the impact. Owens puts a knee into the spine of Mentiroso and pulls back on his head. He tightens his grip, with the crowd chanting behind Mentiroso. Carter lets go of the hold. JACK JONES: Now why would he let that go? He could have forced Mentiroso to use another rope break! What a rookie mistake! You have to stay on top of your opponent, and use the rules to your advantage. Owens looks dangerous. He stalks Mentiroso as he gets back to his feet. Carter lunges, Mentiroso moves out of the way and goes behind... he goes under his legs, lifting him up ELECTRIC CHAIR DROP! JACK JONES: SEE! If Carter would have kept the hold, Mentiroso wouldn't have been able to dodge the lunge and capitalize with an Electric Chair Drop! BILL HEWSON: Agreed. Mentiroso lifts up Carter Owens into a Death Valley Driver position, he runs into the turnbuckle and slams Owens head into the pad. He sets him up in a tree of woe. Mentiroso runs to the otherside. He runs back and BASEBALL slides the head off of Carter Owens. The crowd groans from the impact and Owens falls belly first onto the mat. JACK JONES: SAFE! El Mentiroso then quickly hooks Owens and spins him around in the classic lucha maneuver LA MAJISTRAL for ONE...TWO...THREE! FRANK WARBURTON: HERE IS YOUR WINNER... ELLLLLLLLL MENNNNNNTTTIIIROOOOSOOOOO! Senora Suerte comes into the ring, clapping her hands. The crowd is cheering wildly for the Mexican Superstar. Mentiroso rises to his feet and raises his arms in victory. Senora gabs his hand and they both stand center of the ring, being embraced by the Edmonton crowd. BILL HEWSON: Another fantastic Pure Honor match in NAPW. Carter Owens has got to be disappointed in the outcome. He has yet to win a singles contest in NAPW despite winning that big four-corner survival match a couple weeks ago. JACK JONES: Owens seems to have all the tools, but like the Oilers --- he doesn't have finish. BILL HEWSON: Oh, hush. We'll be right back.
FRANK WARBURTON: The following match is scheduled to one fall, and will be contested under Superstar Rules! Introducing first, already in the ring... From St. Paul, Minnesota... The sexiest Man in the NAPW! "SUPERSTAR" TOMMMMMY DEATHROWWWWW! BILL HEWSON: I wish he would stop that, but anyway he looks to be focused and ready. I hope his opponent is. JACK JONES: How can someone prepare for the sexiest man in the NAPW? BILL HEWSON: No ones fighting me tonight. Some good ole Maiden cranks out "Prisoner" as Daniel Dafoe walks out and Crash Carver storms by him. A good amount of cheers for Crash. He heads to the ring trying to greet some fans as he enters the ring. FRANK WARBURTON: Introducing his opponent accompanied by DANIEL DAFOE... weighing one-hundred and seventy-seven pounds! From Jackson Mississippi! CRASH! CARRRRRVERRRRR! The match begins quickly as Crash rushes over and nails a dropkick on Deathrow. The bell sounds with Deathrow in the corner. Crash hits a quick jumping leg kick on Thomas. Thomas slides down the turnbuckles. Crash gets up some steam and nails a double boot to DeathrowÕs face. Thomas rolls out of the ring as Crash celebrates. Dick Kiebiech goes to the outside to check on Deathrow. Crash springs off the ropes, jumps on to the top rope and stops, wobbly . He jumps down because he sees Kiebiech attending to Thomas. He grabs the ropes and is waiting for Dick to move. Dick rolls back in the ring and at that moment Crash hurls himself over the top rope towards Deathrow. BILL HEWSON: He missed.. and he hit the floor hard. JACK JONES: Deathrow was watching him the whole way and made sure Dick stayed in front of him. He outsmarted the high risk Crash. Looks like he is proving his name to be accurate. BILL HEWSON: He's hurt and you're making jokes. Deathrow picks up the limp Carver and Irish whips him into the guardrail. Deathrow poses for the crowd who boo his ass. He then spits on Crash and nails him right where he spit, the right eye. He pops him again. Deathrow looks for something under the ring and finds it. JACK JONES: Superstar Rules baby! He is grabbing a street sign from under the ring. BILL HEWSON: Try to be impartial some. And who the hell put that there? JACK JONES: I was stating the rules of the match, but how can you not like The Superstar? Deathrow moves towards Crash and BAM!! Crash hits a spinning wheel kick into the Superstars face. He runs at Thomas and does his patented Handspring Back Elbow and catches Thomas in the face again. BILL HEWSON: That mug of his is taking a pounding. JACK JONES: Just like your ole la.. BILL HEWSON: Call the damn match. Crash gets on the ring apron and attempts a Shooting Star Press on the floor. He catches only part of Thomas who was trying to move. Crash again is worse for wear and his grasping his ribs. Deathrow emerges and grabs a Singapore cane from under the ring. JACK JONES: That's where that went... I was playing with that before the show. Crash gets nailed in the head with it. Then to the ribs. Crash screams in pain. Daniel Dafoe comes over...WHACK!! He is nailed too. Deathrow is swinging and doesn't care who he hits. He stands over the Crash and WHACK!! Crash is bleeding some from his right eye. BILL HEWSON: Someone get that damn thing away from him. JACK JONES: As I said before... SUPERSTAR RULES BABY! Deathrow throws a steel chair in the ring. He rolls Crash in as well. Kiebiech tries to get rid of the chair but Thomas grabs it. He drops it and puts a camel clutch on Crash. BILL HEWSON: After all that Deathrow finally puts a wrestling hold on Crash? JACK JONES: Well Crash is a speedy guy, he had to slow him down so he could catch him. Deathrow yells at Crash: "You can't tap yet, we're just having fun". Deathrow bores himself with that move and switches to a Boston Crab. Crash is screaming, bleeding and canÕt move. He holds on and Deathrow lets him go. JACK JONES: Right now Crash is a cat toy. Deathrow's a starving lion looking for blood. Deathrow starts humping air and then picks up the chair. Crash sees an opportunity. He gets up and charges at Deathrow. BILL HEWSON: He is running slow at Deathrow. Thomas turns around and BAM! Hurls the chair at Crash. The chair is hanging from Crash's head. Red appears on his forehead as he staggers around. Thomas picks up the cane. JACK JONES: Deathrow just hit Carver with the cane! With a chair hanging around the man's head! How can you not love the Superstar? Crash staggers some more, and Thomas winds up to hit him one more time. But then he stops. He looks at the aisle way. BILL HEWSON: WHAT THE HELL IS HE HERE FOR? The 'he' Bill is talking about is Stylin' Kyle Roberts and he has his ring bell in tow. Dick Kiebiech gets the chair off of Carver. Thomas points to Kyle and then nails Crash with another cane hit. Crash collapses and then we see more movement from the curtains... JACK JONES: Now the damn Revolution is out here and getting in front of Kyle. Why can't they mind there on business. Carter Owens and Dez Carter confront Kyle. They tell him that he needs to leave, there won't be any interference in this match. Kyle jaws with them. Dick Kiebiech goes out there to tell him to leave as well. BILL HEWSON: Thank God for the Revolution. I mean, Crash is being massacred, but at least it's one on one! JACK JONES: ...what makes you think Roberts is here for CRASH? Thomas Deathrow picks up the almost unconscious Crash and signals with a wiggle for the Deathrow Driver. He picks him up very cockily. Holding him in piledriver position, he shows one side of the crowd. He turns to show Kyle. The crowd erupts... But not for Deathrow... It's for the guy who just shot through the crowd. BAM! BRUCE RICHARDS JUST LAID OUT DEATHROW WITH THE STIFFEST CHAIR SHOT HE HAS EVER THROWN. DEATHROW IS DEAD! BILL HEWSON: (in disbelief) Richards just nailed the back of Thomas' skull with the loudest shot I've ever heard. The chair is broken. RICHARDS... HE....HE BROKE THE DAMN CHAIR ON HIS HEAD. JACK JONES: Holy hell! Have we ever seen The Beast swing a chair like that? BILL HEWSON: Never! The Beast just lived up to his name, and oh my god, what's he doing? Bruce puts Crash on top of STD. Dick and the Carters is still jawing with Kyle. Kyle starts walking to the back, pointing to his head and telling the crowd: "SMARTER THAN YOU!" BILL HEWSON: Dick is in the ring for the count. Can Thomas kick out?! Dick counts: One...Two... JACK JONES: THREE! Foul! Foul! Crash Carver was just handed a win by D-X! FRANK WARBURTON: WINNER OF THE MATCH: CRASH! CARRRRRVERRRRR! Daniel Dafoe quickly rolls Crash out of the ring, his man still doesn't know where he is. Bruce & Kyle hightail it as Deathrow...slowly...begins to stir. Dafoe gets Carver the hell out of there as Deathrow rises, holding his head in pain. His sexy face suddenly becomes a mask of anger, and he storms to the back screaming obscenities in the direction of D-X... JACK JONES: Now...why in the HELL would D-X want to make Tommy Deathrow...you know. ANGRY?! BILL HEWSON: D-X may have bitten off more than they can chew, but the result stands: Crash Carver with the first win of his career - JACK JONES: Yeah, thanks to The Beast! BILL HEWSON: - and it was over an NAPW living legend! Don't go away, the tag team title match...is NEXT.
BILL HEWSON: We're scheduled to have the tag titles on the line next, but here come the men who won a tag team title shot at Epic! THE DELIVERY MEN are back, baby! JACK JONES: Yay. Wait. Are they coming over here? BILL HEWSON: I think they are! The Delivery Men, welcome! DELIVERY MAN #1: Passive Aggressive Guy. Delusional Man. We're out here to frickin' scout out our competition! You don't frickin' mind, do ya, Jonesy? JACK JONES: Of course I mind! I'm a professional and you're a --- DELIVERY MAN #2: Hey, ya frick, we're professionals TOO! The best fricking professional delivery-men-slash-pro-wrestlers-slash-hand-models in the world! DELIVERY MAN #1: Frickin' rights! DELIVERY MAN #2: Frickin' rights. DELIVERY MAN #1: Frick! Jones buries his head in his hands. It's going to be a long night. Cue Ashley Macissac! FRANK WARBURTON: The following contest is scheduled for one fall, and is for the NAPW TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIP! Introducing first the challengers! At a total combined weight of five hundred and sixty-five pounds... "The Irish Adonis" Bobby O'Brady! "The Scottish Wrecking Machine" Al Thoes! THHHHHHHE CELTIC! AAAAASSASSINNNNNS! BILL HEWSON: And the crowd sure does love the Celtic Assassins these days, who have been on a tear through the tag team division as of late. Ever since they left the NFA, the Celts have been on a winning streak, becoming number one contenders after winning the Tagstravaganza! DELIVERY MAN #2: It just goes to frickin' show ya that in this sport, ya can go from the bottom of the fricking pile to the top in no time flat. All ya needs is one big win! DELIVERY MAN #1: Frick, I getcha. The Assassins were always these FUNNY guys, right, like hardy-har-har? And now we have these two comedians challenging for the Titles? Disgraceful. No one wants to see two bumbling clowns hold the gold--that's why WE'RE going to save the NAPW Tag Division! The Celts are in the ring, and then... a song called "Hadron" kicks in. The crowd looks confused, but aren't for long, as the DEATH COWBOY Billy Kryenik and NO NICKNAME Evan Cartwright come through the curtain, tag team belts around their waists. Huge pop for the champions! FRANK WARBURTON: And now! At a total combined weight of four-hundred, sixty three and one quarter pounds... they are the NAPW TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS! Billy Kryenik! Evan Cartwright! The BI-POLAR EXPRESSSSS! The Express slide in the ring and each hit a corner. Notably, Cartwright's right hand is wrapped in medical gauze. JACK JONES: Walking wounded as usual, Evan Cartwright. BILL HEWSON: Certainly Evan Cartwright suffered an injury to his right hand, slicing it from thumb to palm. But as is often the case with this man, injury doesn't stop him from competing. JACK JONES: It's cost him a title in the past, that kind of foolish pride... Both teams in their corners, conferring. It looks like Billy Kryenik will start off with the smaller of the two Celtic Assassins. Smaller meaning he's two-seventy five instead of two-ninety, that's Bobby O'Brady. Lock-up, O'Brady wins easily. And he... HOOKS A HEADLOCK! The crowd loves it, as O'Brady wrenches the head of Kryenik. Kryenik tries to get out, that's not going to happen. Finally, Kryenik tries a back suplex attempt, but O'Brady kicks his legs and hauls Kryenik back down with a bulldog. Cover gets barely two, but O'Brady goes right back to the headlock. This time he muscles Kryenik over to the celtic corner and tags in Al Thoes. Kryenik shot to the ropes, taken down with a double clothesline. Thoes immediately hooks a chinlock. A POWER chinlock! DELIVERY MAN #1: Frick! That could frickin' kill him! DELIVERY MAN #2: Frickin' TAP OUT, man, and science will recussitate you! BILL HEWSON: For the love of god, stop the match! JACK JONES: ...it's a CHIN LOCK! Kryenik gets to his feet, and hits one, two, three elbows to the midsection of Thoes. Off the ropes, Thoes with a clothesline attempt, that's ducked by Kryenik who stops short and delivery a STIFF superkick into the jaw of Thoes. Kryenik shakes his head, dazed, and then tags in Evan Cartwright. Evan Cartwright enters the ring to a pop, and he immediately drops an elbow on the back of Thoes. Another, another, and now Evan Cartwright is going for the Boston Crab early. Al Thoes is far too strong right now, and uses his leg strength to shoot Evan forward into the turnbuckle. Cartwright slumps, and Thoes gets up... he charges! Evan shoots up and over Thoes! Thoes stumbles out, Cartwright goes to the top rope... DIAMOND DUST! HE NAILED IT! ONE! TWO! O'Brady makes a save! BILL HEWSON: Both teams are bringing their big moves out quickly in this contest! Clearly, they don't want to give the other team any sort of chance to build momentum. DELIVERY MAN #2: The frickin' tag team titles are on the line! They better bring their best, 'cos in two weeks, we'll be bringing OUR frickin' best no matter WHO the champion is. BILL HEWSON: If you had the choice, which team would you face? DELIVERY MAN #1: These are two of the best frickin teams in the NAPW today. DELIVERY MAN #2: Apparently. DELIVERY MAN #1: Yeah, I don't get it neither. But Evan Cartwright's one tough son of a bitch, Bill Kryenik is frickin fricked in the head, I seen it, and The Celtic Assassins are big, strong and fulla oatmeal. D'you see what we're up against? DELIVERY MAN #2: They're complete chumps! DELIVERY MAN #1: Yeah, sorry to harp on their negative qualities like that, but you have to admit, they're not exactly IN OUR LEAGUE. Evan Cartwright continues his offensive on Al Thoes, trying to work the man's lower back with forearm shivers and elbow drives. He hits the ropes... ROARING ELBOW! That knocks Thoes down, one, two...Thoes kicks out at two and a half. Cartwright gets back up, tags in Kryenik. Kryenik immediately hoists up Thoes with surprising strength, putting him on the top rope facing the fans. Cartwright goes to the top, Kryenik gets underneath Thoes... POWERBOMB/NECKBREAKER COMBINATION. The crowd chants for that one, and Kryenik hooks the leg...ONE! TWO! THREE---O'BRADY WITH THE LAST SECOND SAVE! And now it's breaking down, as Bobby O'Brady starts taking it to Kryenik! Kryenik staggered against the ropes, but here comes Cartwright with another Roaring Elbow --- O'Brady side-steps and scoops Evan Cartwright up onto his shoulders. TORTURE RACK! Cartwright and O'Brady aren't the legal men, but nonetheless, Cartwright's in danger! But here comes Kryenik! RIGHT HOOK right in O'Brady's face... and O'Brady and Cartwright both spill over the top rope but good! Kryenik turns around, here's a charging Al Thoes! Kryenik ducks and tosses Thoes out to the floor! BILL HEWSON: We've got a three car pile-up on the floor right here, but watch Kryenik! DELIVERY MAN #2: Frick. JACK JONES: STOP SAYING FRICK! BILL HEWSON: Kryenik is not a high flyer, but he's on the top rope... MOONSAULT! TO THE OUTSIDE! And all four men are down on the frikkin' floor! JACK JONES: ...NOOOO! BILL HEWSON: Heh. Got caught in the moment. All four men are down and out, Kryenik splatting them all (even his own partner) with that reckless move. Referee Henry Andrews has no choice but to begin counting them out... they need to get back in the ring, but the action picks back up outside! O'Brady and Cartwright tie back up, trading blows...Cartwright at a disadvantage, he can't use that right hand of his. Kryenik meanwhile, finds himself on the receiving end of a POWER suplex on the concrete! O'Brady slams Cartwright and... climbs onto the ring apron, Andrews telling him not to do it... DOUBLE STOMP ON CARTWRIGHT! Evan rolls out of the way before getting caught between two-seventy five pounds and the concrete. O'Brady stumbles, off-balance... Cartwright plants the man face-first, then WHEELBARROW SUPLEXES him on the outside! Al Thoes comes to save, but Kryenik grabs him, toe kick, DRY LAKE...Thoes fighting it off! Thoes back-drops Kryenik, but Kryenik holds on and hits a sunset flip on the outside! Nobody realizes that Andrews is still counting... suddenly! Evan Cartwright blinks once, twice, then looks up at Andrews, who is on EIGHT... Kryenik & O'Brady are now tying up as Thoes recovers from his head bouncing off the concrete with that flip... NINE...Cartwright rolls into the ring... TEN! Andrews calls for the bell, leaving the crowd in confusion... BILL HEWSON: Well, what's the decision here? FRANK WARBURTON: The winner of the match, as a result of a count-out...and STILL Tag Team Champions... THE BI-POLAR EXPRESS! BILL HEWSON: The Bi-Polar Express have retained their titles, but not in the manner they would've liked... I can't believe this match got so out of hand! JACK JONES: I don't know if either team came into this match-up at the top of their games. Kryenik seemed to be lacking his usual focus... maybe he came back too soon after that Stairway To Hell match with Patrick Bickle at Epic. DELIVERY MAN #1: Well frick, a win's a win, and we'll be glad to frickin take on the Express slackers for the tag titles in two weeks. Thank ya very fricking much. DELIVERY MAN #2: No, thank YOU, One. It's been a frickin' slice, you and you. Now our break time's over! We've got an important delivery to make--TO THE CENTER OF THE EARTH! DELIVERY MAN #1: Ha! No job too small for the frickin' best Delivery Team in the world! And with that, The Delivery Men rush off from the announcers' desk. In the ring, Cartwright and Kryenik have their belts, but neither man looks all that happy. Crowd is chanting "bull-shit, bull-shit". The Assassins are frustrated on the outside, Bobby O'Brady kicking the ring steps in anger as Thoes leans against the guard rail dejectedly. BILL HEWSON: Well, I can't say that anybody here is happy with the way this match finished, but nonetheless the Bi-Polar Express are still tag team champions. That's gotta be a shot to the Celtic Assassins... on the biggest roll of their career, to lose like that. JACK JONES: Well what do you think? If you're the challengers, you have to be BETTER then champions. The Express didn't even have to win this one, if both teams had been counted out, they'd still be the champs. When you take on a champion, you have to beat the champion, not the other way around. And tonight, the Celtic Assassins didn't bring their A game. And the Express is damn lucky that they didn't, or we would be looking at new champs right now. I don't know what the hell was going on, but Kryenik sure didn't look like a champion to me. Evan Cartwright was the best man in the match tonight and he only had one hand! BILL HEWSON: ...you were just storing that all inside while the D-Men were out here, weren't you? JACK JONES: FRICK.
JACK JONES: Make way for the SHOWSTOPPA, Bill Hewson! FRANK WARBURTON: The following no-disqualification match is set for one fall, and is for the NAPW PROVINCIAL CHAMPIONSHIP! Introducing first, the challenger. From Kitchener, Ontario, he weighs in at two-hundred and forty pounds... one half of the Sexy Adorable Drunks... KRUSTY! KID! PAULLLLL! KKP comes through the entrance way wearing a black t-shirt and black jeans. He's got in his hands none other than the singapore cane... apparently he's been watching some old ECW after the disgust of last night's so-called "ECW" show. The crowd gives him some boos with scattered cheers. FRANK WARBURTON: And his opponent...! Representing Degeneration NeXt! From Las Vegas Nevada, accompanied to the ring by his business advisor Pamela... he weighs in at two-hundred and twenty pounds... the NAPW Provincial Champion! THE FUTURE! CHRIS CASINNOOOOOO! And sure, the crowd don't like KKP. But Chris Casino? THEY HATE HIM. And he LOVES IT. JACK JONES: It's GOOD to be Chris Casino, Bill Hewson! BILL HEWSON: It must be tearing you up inside, watching these two go at it. JACK JONES: Not really. Chris Casino is the FUTURE, he's class, he's worthwhile! Krusty Kid Paul is a guilty pleasure, but Provincial Champion? He doesn't have the class. BILL HEWSON: He might not have class, but he's got a singapore cane! And Chris Casino just felt it! DING DING DING. Sharplin rings the bell, but KKP is way ahead of him, caning Casino in the back as the man poses. Dirty pool from all sides, obviously. Casino tip-toes, face a mask of pain, and KKP sends another stiff shot into his back. And another! AND ANOTHER! Casino takes three steps and flops face-first onto the canvas. Kid Paul raises the cane above his head, a scowl on his face. The crowd...cheers? BILL HEWSON: And Krusty Kid Paul, he seems to be sober tonight... and he seems to have a bone to pick with Chris Casino! Kid Paul's out to show Chris Casino that he's no joke! Kid Paul sends Casino to the corner and wears him out with another singapore cane shot. Casino slumps backwards into the corner... KKP gets a head of steam! KNEE SMASH right into Casino's face! Casino slumps forward on the canvas, and Kid Paul makes a cover. That gets two, but Casino kicks out. It'll take more than that to put the Provincial Champion down, but KKP has sent a message in the early going. Now Paul pulls Casino up, looking for a suplex--- Casino floats out at the top, landing behind Paul. Exploder back suplex dumps Kid Paul on his head, and Casino - ponytail beginning to come unfurled - has lost his smug grin. He's furious, baby. He grabs the singapore cane and promptly breaks it over Krusty Kid Paul's head. It doesn't seem to affect the Krusty one! He's up, and he's coming! Casino throws the remnant of the cane against Paul, who just ducks. He comes at Casino fists a swinging, and Casino gets sent to the outside of the ring! Pam begins to help her man up, but watch out for Kid Paul... SUICIDE DIVE! Pam pulls Casino out of the way and Paul crashes into the guard rail! JACK JONES: And the tide may have turned, Bill Hewson! BILL HEWSON: Krusty Kid Paul taking a bad spill to the outside, and against Chris Casino, one mistake can mean the end. Casino pulls KKP up, disgusted by touching the man's matty mohawk. Atomic drop pick-up, KKP deposited crotch-first on the guard rail. Wince! Casino mugs for the crowd momentarily, then gets a run and clotheslines KKP off the guardrail onto the concrete, KKP landing on his head in an ugly fashion. BOOOOOO. Sharplin wants Casino to bring it in the ring, but the match is no DQ so whatever. Casino finally does bring Kid Paul into the ring, but not before he goes up top. He poses... the prettiest elbow drop in history! Kid Paul with a burst of energy nails the ropes, crotching Casino on the top. Kid Paul runs to the top, and what's he doing? He's got Casino...he twists him... SUPERBOMB FROM THE TOP ROPE! Kid Paul rolls Casino up! ONE! TWO! TH---Casino kicks out at two and seven/eighths! The crowd thought that was all. Kid Paul slaps the mat in anger, threatening Sharplin. Sharplin gets in his face, reminding Paul that he can't win the match by attacking the referee. Kid Paul turns back to Casino... he turns him upside down and hangs in in the Tree of Woe! And then... CRACK ROCK STEADY is applied! Casino is in serious pain, with Kid Paul wrenching the cross arm breaker madly. JACK JONES: Wait a minute. If it's no DQ, is this move able to make Casino submit, or does Casino's body being in the ropes mean it's invalid? BILL HEWSON: In NAPW... no disqualification means rope breaks do work, but the problem is: There's nothing the referee can really do to enforce it! Kid Paul can't be disqualified for holding onto the move! JACK JONES: Stupid garbage wrestlers confusing the rules! And Kid Paul doesn't seem intent on releasing the hold anytime soon BAM! Casino's new business advisor just NAILED Krusty Kid Paul in the mush with her purse. Kid Paul's eyes glaze over, and he slumps to the outside, letting go of Casino, who falls to the canvas holding his arm. Kid Paul... GETS BACK UP. He's got a big bruise over his eye, and he rips Pam's purse away from her. He dumps it out... it's a lead weight! There was a lead weight in her purse! Paul throws it back down. Pam tries to slap him, he just grabs her hand. WATCH OUT FOR CHRIS CASINO! HE FLIES! MISSILE DROPKICK OFF THE TOP ROPE! He nails Kid Paul in the face! Both men are down, the crowd trying to rally behind Kid Paul, they smell a new Provincial Champion. Both men slow to get up, using the guard rail or ring apron. Kid Paul with a double ax handle... Casino low blows the man! And wait a minute! He hooks the arms... turns him over... BANKRUPT ON THE CONCRETE! Kid Paul is down, but Casino can't pin him out of the ring, this isn't falls count anywhere! Casino grabs the dead weight of Kid Paul and rolls him in the ring. He makes the cover, Kid Paul is out. ONE. TWO. THREE--- BILL HEWSON: HE KICKS OUT! HE KICKS OUT! Kid Paul, what guts! You don't have to like him, but the punk won't give up. JACK JONES: Nobody's kicked out from the Bankrupt, ever! Kid Paul's LUCKY that Casino couldn't pin him right after he hit it, that would've been all. Casino slaps the mat, angry as hell. He grabs Kid Paul, snarling... BANKRUPT again! He covers Kid Paul, and this time, there's no getting up. ONE. TWO........THREE. FRANK WARBURTON: Here is your winner...and STILL Provincial Champion! Chris Casino! BILL HEWSON: Man, what a heartbreaking loss for Krusty Kid Paul, you've gotta give it to him --- he took Casino to the limit! JACK JONES: He may have, but still Provincial Champion... Chris Casino! It takes more than almost to beat a man like him. Casino celebrates in the aisle with Pam, as Kid Paul rolls in the ring, dazed and out from two consecutive Bankrupts. Fade to commercial.
KABOOM! Like a whirling dervish, Static bounds out from the backstage area to the tune of "Summer of '69" by Bryan Adams. The crowd's reaction is slightly mixed, about 75% in favor of the Hardcore Luchadore, and 25% against. Static seems to shrug off the negativity, though, he's wearing a huge grin on his face, twirling his screwdriver between his fingers while running to the ring like he had been doing it his entire life. The camera pan to the ring lets us see that it's partially covered by a big pile of sand, and has an umbrella sticking out of it. Static hits the ring after a second and demands a mic. BILL HEWSON: Static's promised Rex Caliber a BIG SURPRISE tonight, and uh... it's not just going to be a big surprise for Rex, it'll be a surprise to all of us! Nobody knows what Static's got planned. JACK JONES: Does he want to have a beach party? Maybe catch some rays with the two-time champ? Noooobody knows... STATIC: Woo! I gotta say, kiddies, it feels pretty good to be alive right about now. I mean, I just got my first real six-string! But seriously, Epic was a mission statement for these here CRIMES CRIMES CRIMES. Can you say: Rex Caliber-- (BIG FAT POP!) --two-time heavyweight champion? Yeaahhhh boyyy, I thought so! Rex Caliber laid waste to Devastation, alright, and Operation: Kill Motherfuckers Dead claims another motherfucker! But more importantly, how about the way that I, el Hardcore Luchadore, carried D! to victory over the rest of the Charitable Trust, huh? Moment of Clarity, baby, BAM! Much smaller, yet still noticable, pop for the Epic opener. Static takes a pause. STATIC: But, I don't want to make it seem like I have a big ego or anything, let's cut to the chase! I promised a big surprise for Rex Caliber tonight, it's his year, babies, HIS YEAR! This is the Summer of Rex, the Summer of 69-ing! Without further ado, let's bring out the man--the CHAMP! Let's get a few words from the NEEEW! NAPW HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION! REEEX! CALIBEEER! "More human than human!" Once again, a BIG FAT POP for the NAPW champ! Rex isn't quite the ball of boundless energy that Static is at this point, but hey, Static didn't win a war against Devastation last week, either! Rex is walking carefully, but still wears the sixteen pounds of gold and a grin with powerful grace. He's wearing a brand-spankin'-new "What can THE CHAMP do for you?" brown t-shirt, and on his way to the ring, makes it a point to slap hands with many in the crowd. He gets in the ring, and waits for the cheers to die down before going to talk. However, before he can get a word out, Static interrupts him. STATIC: So, CHAMP, whaddya think, huh? You say it's the Summer of Rex, I say it's the Summer of 69-ing, baby! The CRIMES CRIMES CRIMES throwing nonstop beach parties on the CHAMP's paycheck, and baby you know that a Crimes party don't stop! The CHAMP, baby, woo! The Champ. REX CALIBER: Ah... thanks, Static, this is a pretty cool surprise. I'd like to welcome all my Freaks of Nature in the house tonight! Big pop there. Static seems ready to talk the second that Rex finished, but waited for the pop to die down. STATIC: Aw man, I know it's a cool surprise. And this summer will see many surprises! I got all kinds of stuff planned, man, sitting on the beach with the Champ is number one. Then, going to baseball games with the Champ, seeing Superman with the Champ, generally relaxing with the Champ... this is gonna be a cool summer, man! Summer of Rex, Summer of 69-ing! REX CALIBER: Yeah... uh, Static, did you see my promo, the other day, when you were watching tv on Saturday night? STATIC: Oh, sure man! Summer of Rex! Summer of 69-ing! REX CALIBER: Well, you're half right... it is the Summer of Rex, but there's gonna be none of Rex Caliber-laying-on-the-beach unless the Freaks WANT Rex Caliber laying on the beach! This is all about being the most fightingest champ in NAPW history, doc! It's about going out there, and taking every challenge from the back, and handing their asses back to them on a big pulpy platter! Casino, D!, Kryenik, anyone can bring it! STATIC: Oh yeah man, you know I meant that too! S'why I say, remember your promise a while back? Not only are the CRIMES CRIMES gonna be tearing it up on the beach, we're gonna be tearing it up on the marquee! I'm talkin' CRIME vs. CRIME for the NAPW 'chip, man! REX vs. STATIC! Think of the ratings! Good-sized pop for that one. Rex seems to be measuring his words carefully. REX CALIBER: Yeah, man, that does sound pretty good... STATIC: Moment of Clarity vs. Total Annihilation! Speed vs. power! Luchadore vs. Crazy-ass! It'll be great, man! Live on the all-new TUESDAY NIGHT FIGHTS! REX CALIBER: Well, y'see man, that does sound pretty good... I mean, the trouble is, I want to be a... true fighting champ... I mean, let's take Devastation. He's a punk, right? Well, he always dodged the top contenders, in favor of guys who definitely didn't deserve it. I don't wanna be like Devastation, I want to take on the top dogs. The top five in the rankings, you know what I mean? STATIC: Well yeah man, of course! We got rankings, we gotta stick to that! And what do the rankings say? "Rex Caliber: CHAMP. Static: Number one contender." I mean, hell, I've been here since the beginning, I deserve that much! Right? REX CALIBER: Well, man... I've said it before to you, and I'll say it again: You're not even ranked. For anything. I mean, I don't get that about you, Static, sometimes I'll tell you things and it'll just go in one ear and out the other... if you wanna take on the Champ, and make it really meaningful, you're gonna have to take on all the other contenders and work your way up, y'know? Trust me, man, you'll feel a lot more accomplished about it that way. STATIC: But... but what about this set-up I made for you? The beach, the Summer of 69-ing, all of it? REX CALIBER: I mean, it's cool and all, but dude... I can't give you a title shot cos you're my friend. STATIC: Wait, you've got the gall to say that after all of this hard work for you, for the CRIMES, that I don't DESERVE a shot? I've been here since day one and never gotten a shot! You think I can't hang with you, with Devastation? With that pretty boy D!? REX CALIBER: No, dude! Chill out. All I'm saying is, we've got a top five. And you're not in it. Pause. Static seems to be trying to collect himself. REX CALIBER: I mean, it's cool! Look, I checked out the rankings. You can challenge Delivery Man #100 next week for his spot, win that, and then you can take on Casino, then Devastation... then, D!. Then you'll get the shot. STATIC: Wait, I already carried D! to victory! It was glorious! REX CALIBER: Look, man. I don't make the rankings. I'm sorry. I'm just following the rules. Static breaks away again, trying to collect himself once more. Rex looks over him, genuine appreciation and a bit of sadness on his face as Static stares blankly into space. The crowd hushes, as tension blankets the arena. Static and Rex. Rex and Static. The Crimes crimes crimes stare one another down... and then! Apparently, the light finally goes on, as Static breaks into a big grin and opens his arms! STATIC: ... dude, it just came to me. Can you believe that? Of course, man. You've always been the good guy, always following the rules. Hell, it was ME that made you powerbomb Bill Fleming straight to hell a while back, remember that? I mean, damn... why WOULDN'T you follow the rules? Why WOULDN'T you give D! a shot before me, he obviously deserves it... I'm sorry, Rex, I didn't mean it! Can you forgive me, man? REX CALIBER: Hell yeah I can! We're the CRIMES CRIMES CRIMES! Now how about a big old CRIMES hug, then we can party out here before we hit the Sports Club? STATIC: Aw, you know it man. Big bear hug draws a pop. Afterwards, "More Human Than Human" kicks up once more, and the crowd goes buck wild again, for Rex Caliber has hit the ropes in celebration. BILL HEWSON: Well, ladies and gentlemen, it would appear that Static has regained the proper mind state, and the Crimes are once again a well-oiled machine! This can only mean bad things for the rest of the NAHOLY SHIT! REX CALIBER--ON THE GROUND. When he had turned around from being on the ropes, he caught a freaking LOW BLOW from his partner in CRIME Static, and is now being STABBED in the forehead with Static's screwdriver! The crowd seems like they're about ready to riot, seeing the Champ's best friend laying waste to the Champ right before their eyes! Static kicking Rex in the forehead and the balls, Rex is motionless. BILL HEWSON: This is one of the sickest displays I have ever seen! How can --- how can --- folks, Static's anger and jealousy have seemingly taken over his mind, and he's wrecking his tag team partner in the middle of the ring! The Crimes are dying before our very eyes! JACK JONES: Dying? Hewson, Caliber was STABBED in the forehead! BILL HEWSON: And now... damn it, look at that sick bastard Static! He's grinning like a damn cheshire cat, this coward! Static didn't want to go through the motions like everyone else had to, he couldn't! Static couldn't get a win on Action!, and he's over here talking like he deserves a shot-- JACK JONES: Can it, Hewson! We don't know what's going on inside Static's mind exactly, we don't have the right to comment on it, and especially not give our opinions regarding his career! BILL HEWSON: I'll comment on anything I want if I see the NAPW get STABBED by his best friend, thank you very much! Static's been leaning against the ropes, letting soda and popcorn get poured on him from the crowd as he simply grins. And stares. Surveying his damage, he notices the blood painted all over the ring. The sixteen pounds of gold off to the side. The sweat. The tears. He sees the Crimes' history as a tag team, Static taking Rex under his wing and eventually watching him fly off into bigger and better things. And it's not enough. Everything that he's already put Rex Caliber through is NOT ENOUGH. What about helping Rex in the hospital, which resulted in no title shots? Another kick to the balls from Static, big boos. What about driving a drunk Rex all over western Canada and Washington? Kick to the forehead. What about no "thank you"--ever? Static takes the screwdriver and starts digging into Rex's forehead, trying to cover the wound in sand to somehow hurt him more. STATIC: AM I GOOD ENOUGH NOW, REX?! AM I AS DESERVING AS D!, YET? COME ON REX! CRIMES CRIMES CRIMES! And finally, security and officials storm the ring and pull the sick Static off of Rex Caliber. The champion is hurt, and hurt badly. The fans have dumped all they can on this callow, covetous sick freak and it isn't helping. The officials, seven of them, more, they can barely hold back the small man... because Static is ugly, monsterous, evil. Some moron on the back feeds Static's ego and puts on "Crimes" by the Blood Brothers. Static grins again as he's held back. The fans left in the arena look on with tears and horror and sadness. It's Static's own empire of dirt. Fade out.
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