TUESDAY. NIGHT. FIGHTS.07/11/2006
BILL HEWSON: This will be a super wild ride to open the show. JACK JONES: Promo has no business on Tuesday nights, and Ravager will show him what "Hardcore" is all about. BILL HEWSON: The guy had a great debut, despite the loss. Let's go to the ring. FRANK WARBURTON: The following match will be Hardcore Rules... WHACK! Referee Morgan Smythe calls for the bell as Promo has entered through the crowd, and with all the noise, sneaks into the ring. Ravager is down by a shot to the head with a Singapore cane shot. Promo lays in to Ravager with some stiff right hands. No honor rules here, it's HARDCORE! JACK JONES: That no good Promo, taking a cheap shot like that. BILL HEWSON: Seems like a part time hit man would be more aware of his surroundings. Ravager takes the low road to escape the barrage of punches, a low blow of course. Ravager gets up and shakes off the early flurry. Promo is starting to get up and is sent into the ropes. Ravager catches him on the rebound with a belly to belly suplex. He covers: One, not even two with a kick out by Promo. Ravager smiles a bit, lifts up Promo and throws him into the corner. Ravager charges with a shoulder and- MISSES! He slaps the post hard. Promo rolls Ravager up: One...Two.. KICK-OUT. Promo stays offensive and locks on the abdominal stretch. The crowd goes silent for a moment, as this match is HARDCORE RULES. You can hear a cricket chirping.Ravager gets to the ropes but Promo refuses to release. Ravager uses the rope for leverage and hip tosses Promo to the outside. Promo lands on a camera man. The feed from that angle ends. JACK JONES: My TV went black... Someone pay the damn bill. I want my NAPW! BILL HEWSON: It's back on, but the camera man is hurt. A stretcher is coming out to carry the camera man away. Ravager is on the outside, still favoring his shoulder and now ribs. He lays some boots into Promo, but Promo grabs his leg and trips him. Ravager hits hard. Promo sees the stretcher and pushes the medics away. He grabs Ravager and places him on the stretcher. He straps him in. Ravager can't move. Promo is climbing the near corner of the ring. He is on the top rope- SUICIDAL SPLASH. "He's Hardcore" chants begin. BILL HEWSON: Ravager is hurt. The stretcher is broken. Promo is grabbing his mid section. Morgan Smythe is un hooking the straps to free Ravager. Ravager is rolling over slowly. Promo grabs a steel chair and aims for the hurt right shoulder of Ravager. He is on target. BAM!. Another shot on the shoulder. Promo taunts a little bit, to some cheers. Ravager is on his back, still on the floor. Promo winds up for another shot... BAM...Promo staggers back after getting the chair kicked back into him. Ravager gets up slowly and SPEAR into the guardrail. Promo is personally introduced to the guardrail. Ravager did the spear with his left side. Both men are down. Morgan Smythe is in the ring in awe. The medics have finally gotten the camera man out, with a new stretcher. JACK JONES: This is a brutal match, but if Promo attempts a scientific move again, I'm leaving. BILL HEWSON: It wasn't that shabby looking, he has admitted to not being the best wrestler. But his fighting skills and heart can get it done. JACK JONES: Not against Ravager. This is a warm up for the assault Rex Caliber will receive. Both men are up and Ravager clotheslines Promo over the railing. They are in the crowd. Ravager lays in some punches and looks to be setting up for the Last Resort. NO- HE HIT THE LAST RESORT ON THE CONCRETE. Ravager gets to his feet laughing. He asks for a smoke. A fan lights one up for him. Ravager takes a drag and puts it out on Promo's back. RAVAGER: You're smoking now PROMO. BILL HEWSON: That's just ruthless. And uncalled for. JACK JONES: Ravager's a rebel for sure. There's No Smoking signs posted everywhere. Ravager kicks at Promo who is crawling toward the back of the arena. They get close to a wall and Ravager picks Promo up. With bad intentions on his mind he Irish whips WAIT- It's reversed. Ravager hits the wall hard. Promo is hurt, but looking for a chair. A fan hands him one. Promo sees Ravager get up and NAILS him with a shot to the head. The crimson mask is being worn by the man who hates masks: Ravager. They continue to exchange right hands. They are leaving the main arena floor. Ravager throws Promo into a backstage room. It's the MEN'S room. BILL HEWSON: They've entered the bathroom. They can't get a win in there. Morgan Smythe comes over to the announcing table, to check out the match with Jack and Bill. JACK JONES: What are you doing? Officiate the match! MORGAN SMYTHE: Until they get in the ring, I can't do anything. It's hardcore, NOT Falls Count Anywhere! Ravager and Promo are fighting still, with Ravager's blood all over the bathroom. Promo kicks Ravager in the stomach. He take him to a stall, and sets up Ravager's head next to the door. WHAM! He slammed the door on Ravagers head. Ravager is on one knee. Blood going everywhere. Promo winds up and- Is nailed in the stomach. Promo goes over to a urinal and is crouching, trying to gain his air. Ravager comes at him with a running knee and catches Promo off guard. Ravager gets Promo's head against the wall. JACK JONES: SILENCER! Ravager leaves the bathroom, and a few seconds later Promo comes out. Ravager is several feet away. But not going toward the ring. He is going toward the parking lot area. Promo walks fast to catch up. He is in pain, and has to stop for a second. Ravager turns around to see him. Ravager is a mess. They finally meet back up and the fists fly again. Ravager throws Promo into another wall. We see the cars, signifying the parking lot area. Ravager looks at a Dodge Caliber front row. The license plates say "CHAMP" BILL HEWSON: That's Rex Caliber's car. He needs to get away from the parking lot. I'm not sure who is responsible for them, but if they get... Ravager runs Promo's head through the driver side window. BILL HEWSON: (somber) get damaged, someone will pay. JACK JONES: A little late to worry about that. RAVAGER: This week his car, next week Rex Caliber's BODY! Ravager lines up Promo again. But is blocked. Ravager goes shoulder first into the car. Then he is placed on the hood. Promo joins him...CRADLE PILE DRIVER ON THE CAR! MORGAN SMYTHE: I'm not going to be responsible for this, this is crazy. Morgan calls for the bell. The crowd boos, but really, what can she do? FRANK WARBURTON: The match has been declared a no contest. Ravager is in a heap on the car. Promo tries to drag him off, but eats another kick. Ravager gets up and executes a huge clothesline off the car of Rex Caliber. Both men are down. They are still trying to punch each other, when security comes in to break it all up. Half grab Promo. Half grab Ravager. Promo breaks free, and wails on Ravager. Ravager is still being held an assaulted. Promo is finally wrestled down, as they remove Ravager from the area. BILL HEWSON: My God, these men need some medical attention! Look at the swarm of officials to break this up... what the hell is going to happen at Get The Hell Off My Lawn? JACK JONES: So hey Morgan, now that you're done for the night --- MORGAN SMYTHE: Back off, slimeball. Besides, some joker in the back thought 'Hey, let's have the pintsize female referee handle BOTH hardcore matches tonight,' so guess who's handling the triple-threat coming up... RIGHT AFTER THIS COMMERCIAL? JACK JONES: WHO? MORGAN SMYTHE: Me, you dolt! BILL HEWSON: Hey now, he's more of a jerk... more NAPW, when we come back!
BILL HEWSON: Because he took you to Vegas for showgirls and blackjack. JACK JONES: Yeah. *sniff* I miss the old bastard. BILL HEWSON: The Wonder Years right here. We are back, and what a brawl Ravager and Promo just had! Unbelievable! Right now it's time for another hardcore match --- JACK JONES: You mean SUPERSTAR RULES match, Hewson ---
BILL HEWSON: --- and it will be a triple-threat tag contest! We'll update you on Ravager and Promo, but let's take it to Frank. FRANK WARBURTON: The following contest is scheduled for ONE FALL, and is a triple-threat SUPERSTAR RULES tag team attraction! Introducing first... "Waterlooo! Waterlooo!" BILL HEWSON: Fantastic. JACK JONES: Damn rights they are... wait, you're being sarcastic. BILL HEWSON: Oh no, I uh... Yeah. Yeah I am.
FRANK WARBURTON: Coming to the ring accompanied by LANCE, at a total combined weight of five-hundred and fifty pounds... Dan The Man, Thor Heinie, they are TEAM... MAAAAAAAN! The oiled-up, chiseled, orange over-tanned specimens of MANHOOD come to the ring, posing and flexing to the disgust of the crowd. Lance follows behind in a... well, a pink vest and glitter pants. He's oohing and aahing at the dynamic duo. SIGH. BILL HEWSON: It looks like they used the entire Exxon Valdez to oil up there... JACK JONES: Oh come on Hewson, we all know you're a closet Man Fan. I think we're going to see a MANWICH here tonight! FRANK WARBURTON: And now, the second team in the contest! Weighing in at a combined three-hundred and eighty-two pounds... The team of Jared Walsh & Ainsley Lake... DREAM COME TRRRRRRUE! He's going for distance, he's going for SPEED. Cake's wry spoken-word over wicked beats pumps through the PA, and Dream Come True make their way out to a positive reaction. Jared smirks, Ainsley with a sprint in her step towards the ring --- she's all business. JACK JONES: These two COMBINED weigh maybe as much as one of Thor's biceps. Or Dan's head. You see the head on him? BILL HEWSON: I'm sure it's shrunken due to the side-effects. A positive reaction for Dream Come True here tonight. They haven't had a lot of success in NAPW thus far, but they have a huge opportunity here tonight. Cake cuts off. What's next? Glad you asked!
"I'm... too sexy for my cat, FRANK WARBURTON: And THEIR OPPONENTS~! Coming to the ring at a total combined weight of four-hundred and ninety-four pounds... the SHOWSTOPPA Krusty Kid Paul! The SUPERSTAR, Sir Thomas Deathrow! Collectively they are SEXY! ADORRRRRABLE... DRUNNNNNNKS! BILL HEWSON: Is it just me, or does Frank really seem to enjoy announcing Deathrow? JACK JONES: It's not every night you get to introduce a SUPERSTAR like Sir Thomas Deathrow, Bill Hewson. Frank spends all his time announcing schlubs like Dream Come True and that other guy. What's his name? One letter. BILL HEWSON: D!, you jackass! JACK JONES: Yeah, him. One letter? Doesn't D! know Frank gets PAID by the letter? D!'s taking money out of the mouths of Frank's children with such a stupid name. Honestly. BILL HEWSON: You're an idiot. But look what we have here, the SAD are bringing a pair of lawn chairs with them to ringside. And --- Wait a minute, Team Man from behind on Dream Come True! It looks like the Drunks are going to sit back and watch this contest, Jack Attack. DING DING DING. Morgan Smythe calls for the bell to start the match officially, but Team Man are busy attacking the much smaller Dream Come True. On the outside! Thomas Deathrow and KKP are lounging out in lawn chairs, popping open a couple fresh beers. Deathrow has a patently amused smile on his face while KKP cheers on Team Man. BILL HEWSON: And look at this strength! Each member of Team Man has a Dream Come True member pressed above their head... and they just casually dump Lake and Walsh to the canvas. They're overblown stereotypes of manliness, but they sure as hell are powerful. JACK JONES: Those muscles aren't blow-up, Hewson. This match is Superstar Rules, and in this case it just seems that all six --- well, four --- competitors are in the ring at any time. Morgan Smythe is choosing to let it go, likely fully aware that she'll have little luck trying to keep traditional tag team order. However, it's not working to the advantage of Dream Come True. Dan disposes of Jared over the top rope with a MANLY lariat, and then turns towards Thor Heinie. Thor has Ainsley Lake by the wrists, no doubt offering her stylin' tips for that shocking spiked hair. Thor headbutts Ainsley. While she's seeing stars, he yells to Dan "Hot potato, yah?" The swede easily manhandles Lake and literally tosses all one-hundred and sixty pounds of her to Dan! Dan catches her, and then throws her back. Thor holds on, spins her around, and sends her flying again towards Dan, who catches her in perfect position for a press slam! He crunches Ainsley against the canvas for one, two, Ainsley gets a shoulder up. Dan pulls her up "You are a puny little girlie, Hm ho ho!" Dan casually hoists Ainsley over his head in a gorilla press. He pumps her! Show-off... but watch out for Jared Walsh! Walsh springboards back into the ring, catching Dan square in the face with a dropkick! Ainsley lands on top of Dan, but Jared hasn't stopped moving! He hits the ropes, springboards off the middle, and just NAILS a flying back elbow into the mush of Thor Heinie! That knocks the big Swede over like a big ol' timber. Ainsley is up, and Jared slaps her hand, saying "Let's go!" Dream Come True pull Team Man to their feet, irish whips to opposing turnbuckles! Reversed, Lake & Walsh fired into the corners. Dan on Lake (ew), Thor on Walsh (double ew). Team Man exchange glances and look to fire Dream Come True into one another! BILL HEWSON: Walsh & Lake sent to collide --- wait a minute! Walsh just LAUNCHED Ainsley Lake over his head! HURACANRANA to Thor Heinie! Here comes Dan The Man, Walsh ducks the lariat --- BURNING SAINTS! BURNING SAINTS OUT OF NOWHERE! JACK JONES: Homina homina --- how could he POSSIBLY do that! BILL HEWSON: I don't know, but Lake's huracanrana sent Thor to the outside, Walsh covers for ONE! TWO! --- Krusty Kid Paul makes the save after Burning Saints! And now the Drunks are finally into this match. It was KKP who made the challenge in the first place, Jack Jones! JACK JONES: In every man's life, Bill Hewson, he must challenge a team of sexually ambiguous manly men. BILL HEWSON: ...you disgust me. Krusty Kid Paul is fresh. Ainsley Lake fires some kicks to him, then locks a hand, springboard to the top rope --- shades of Eddy Guerrero, headscissors to KKP! The Krusty One rolls to a stop near a turnbuckle, grinning. He flashes the horns to Deathrow (who is still enjoying the show from his lawn chair) and leers at Lake. They go at it, KKP hoisting a big knee to the mid-section of Lake. He sticks her head between his legs for a powerbomb... He enjoys it for a few seconds, to the disgusted cry of Ainsley Lake. He probably hasn't bathed in a few weeks...I mean, they don't call him Krusty for nothin. JARED WALSH! Walsh just EXPLODES off the ropes with a spinning wheel kick to KKP! And now he's all over KKP with furious fists of... fury. Durr. "Nobody sexually harasses my partner but ME, jockstrap!" Walsh gets back up, raging, but fails to note Thor Heinie right behind him! And Thor just SNAPS on a crossface chickenwing, swinging Jared about like a rag doll! Ainsley Lake looks for a save, but she's caught from behind by Kid Paul, who german suplexes her on her head! Lake rolls to the outside, dazed, as Kid Paul laughs and turns around --- into Dan The Man! The MAN hooks up the KID... delayed vertical suplex! Makin' him think about it... DOWN to the canvas! JACK JONES: What bravery of Dan The Man, touching the unwashed --- but adorable --- Kid Paul! That's true inner man strength, Bill Hewson. BILL HEWSON: Uh-huh. But take a look at this! Dan The Man has a Camel Clutch --- JACK JONES: You mean, "Male Grip" --- BILL HEWSON: I'll call it what I want, thankyouverymuch, Dan The Man has a CAMEL CLUTCH on Krusty Kid Paul! Thor Heinie is tossing around Jared Walsh with a cross-face chickenwing! Team Man could literally defeat both teams at the same time here if their opponents submit! JACK JONES: That'd be a huge win for the manliest manbeasts of manhood! BILL HEWSON: ... And if Tommy Deathrow wants to win this match for his team, NOW would be a great time to get in this thing! Tommy Deathrow IS up, but he seems more interested in one Miss Ainsley Lake, who is busy trying to pull herself up. Deathrow has a peculiar grin on his SUPERSTAR face. Ainsley gets a burst of energy and heads for the top rope! Deathrow rolls into the ring after her, watch out for Lake! Ainsley comes off the top rope right into Thor Heinie --- and she manages to NAIL a modified Higher Side of Low on Thor Heinie. Modified, of course, because Thor had Jared in front of him in that chicken wing, but she's broken the hold! Meanwhile, Tommy Deathrow is in front of Dan The Man... doing nothing? Wait a minute... Thomas sticks his tongue out at Dan The Man, flashing his hand at Dan. Deathrow digs the hand into his pants, rubs around as Dan --- STILL holding the Male Grip on KKP! --- grows more disgusted/intrigued... Deathrow pulls the hand out, and... STICKS IT RIGHT ON DAN'S FACE. JACK JONES: OH GOD! For the love all that is right and pretty in the world, NOT DAN'S FACE! BILL HEWSON: He calls it the Sweaty Ball Claw, and I'm not sure if Dan is screaming in pain or pleasure! JACK JONES: Here comes Lance, he knows he's gotta save his boss' precious MANLY face! Come on Lance, get him! Lance has a STEEL CHAIR, and he nails Deathrow in the back! With the uh, most pathetic and limp-wristed chair shot this side of Lance Storm at ECW Barely Legal. Hey, I love Lance Storm, but those were some WEAK chair shots. Deathrow turns around, the CLAW still locked in on a sickened Dan The Man. Deathrow piefaces a shaking Lance to the mat. He turns around and forces Dan down, down, down with the Claw... Dan just may submit right here! Watch out though! Ainsley Lake and Jared Walsh hit the ropes opposite Tommy Deathrow and fly off, nailing him in the face with a double drop-kick! Deathrow saw it coming, but couldn't react in time. Dream Come True haul Deathrow up and double-clothesline him out of the ring! Tommy lands on his feet somehow, he's still wearing that creepy calm grin he's had the entire match --- AINSLEY LAKE CORKSCREW OVER THE TOP ---- Deathrow SIDESTEPS. Lake crashes! JARED WALSH SUICIDE DIVE --- Tommy steps out of the way! Walsh burns! BILL HEWSON: Dream Come True looking to take Tommy Deathrow out of this match, but they just paid the price for high-risk! But wait a minute! In the ring! JACK JONES: Bill Hewson, is the most MANLIFYING MOVE IN PRO WRESTLING TODAAAAAY! BILL HEWSON: Krusty Kid Paul is in the center of the ring! He doesn't know what's coming him, the poor fool OH MY GOD! THE MANWICH! THE MANWICH! Krusty Kid Paul may be clinically dead! For the love of GOD! JACK JONES: This is all! Team Man have the cover, it's over Bill Hewson --- BILL HEWSON: Tommy Deathrow makes the save! And he just blasted Thor Heinie with a HUGE chairshot! Good Lord, did you hear that impact? Thor crumbles to his knees, and Deathrow blasts him once more for good measure! Dan The Man is on his feet, he comes for Deathrow... LOW BLOW! Dan drops to his knees with a gasp, but he's not getting a reprieve. He's getting... a DEATHROW DRIVER. One quick stump-pulling motion later, and Dan The Man is out. Deathrow doesn't go for a pin, instead hauling KKP's carcass over Dan for ONE! TWO! THR--- Jared Walsh breaks up the pin! Thomas Deathrow whirls on Jared Walsh and boots him in the gut, Deathrow Driver #2 coming up --- Ainsley Lake! Leaps on JARED'S BACK! ONTO TOMMY'S SHOULDERS! SPINNING HURACANRANA! Deathrow slides to the edge of the canvas and then OUT of the ring. Meanwhile! Thor Heinie is somehow getting to his feet after those chair shots --- the muscle must insulate his brain --- but now it's JARED WALSH who has the chair! He holds it front of Dan's face and Ainsley Lake hits a VAN DAMINATOR! Thor is standing...standing... FALLS backwards with a THUD. And that's all Jared Walsh needs to use that chair for an ARABIAN FACEBUSTER! BILL HEWSON: They call that RVD/SABU inspired combination FRACTURE, and there's a cover... Dan is out! KKP is down! Deathrow is up on the outside, but isn't making a move to break it up... ONE! TWO! THREE! FRANK WARBURTON: Here are your winners... DREAM! COME! TRUE! BILL HEWSON: Dream Come True score a BIG win here on Tuesday Night Fights~! JACK JONES: But you know what happens when you win in a match involving the SAD, Bill Hewson? You end up with a hangover. BILL HEWSON: What are you --- Good God! Tommy Deathrow just blindsided Jared Walsh and Ainsley Lake! He's been so damn strange tonight, and come on, there's no need for this! What's "this?" Why, it's KKP back to his feet, hooking Jared Walsh while Thomas Deathrow grabs the man's head... HANGOVER. The double spike DDT! Walsh flops over, down, and Deathrow then hooks Ainsley Lake in a camel clutch. He holds Ainsley's eyes open and leers down at her, forcing her to watch as Krusty Kid Paul puts the boots to a fetal-position Jared Walsh. Morgan Smythe calls for the bell repeatedly, but nothing seems to be going on. BILL HEWSON: Somebody get some help out here! JACK JONES: Who? What friends have Dream Come True made in NAPW, Hewson? Nobody! But finally, Deathrow calls Tommy off of Jared. He grabs ahold of a chunk of Ainsley's hair and hauls her back, still smiling... then he PLANTS ONE ON HER. A big sloppy superstar kiss that is. Not a punch. KKP laughs uproariously as Deathrow then lets a disgusted Ainsley Lake drop to the canvas. Lake crawls over to Jared Walsh to check on him as SAD hit the bricks. Deathrow mimes "CALL ME!" to Lake, who visibly gags. BILL HEWSON: ...somebody should tell Tommy that beating up a woman and her partner isn't the best way to say "hey. I like you." JACK JONES: ...it's not? Well. That explains an AWFUL lot. BILL HEWSON: Nonetheless, Dream Come True pick up the win... when we come back! The Provincial Title will be on the line --- don't go anywhere.
Cut back to Bill Hewson & Jack Jones. BILL HEWSON: Is it a lettuce crisper? JACK JONES: Yes! DAMN YOU! Twenty questions EVERY TIME! I don't understand how you DO THAT! BILL HEWSON: Folks, welcome back to NAPW Tuesday Night Fights, we are once again LIVE in Grande Prairie, and appopriately enough, we're bringing Provincial Title excitement to one of our Province's finest cities. Let's get it STARTED. Bend your knees and slap those feet, me by'e, it's Harry Hibbs and "The Fighting 59". "The Lemondrop Kid" Lloyd Rees walks through the curtain with a terrified look on his face. He stops walking as soon as he sees the ring, but Ol' Salrty is right behind him to push him forwards, Salty with a large canvas sack over his shoulder and his trademark paper bag in one hand. FRANK WARBURTON: The following contest is for the PROVINCIAL CHAMPIONSHIP and it is for ONE FALL! Making his way to the ring, and being accompanied by OL' SALTY, please welcome the CHALLENGER! Weighing in at TWO-HUNDRED, FORTY-SEVEN pounds, from BELL ISLAND, NEWFOUNDLAND... THE LEMONDROP KID, LLOYD! REEEEEES! BILL HEWSON: Rees asked for it, Stein accepted it, a full Title match for the Lemondrop Kid. JACK JONES: Former Television Champion, two-time former Provincial Champion, Lloyd Rees, in fact, has held the Provincial Title longer than any other NAPW wrestler. He can throw down with anyone in the Provincial division and still come out on top. BILL HEWSON: Yeah, because he looks SO confident about the match tonight. In fact, he doesn't--oh, wait, that was sarcasm. Well, in any event, Lloyd Rees is breathing shallow climbing into the ring, staring nervously at the entrance--and then he checks something out in his peripheral vision, turns his head and freezes... staring at him, coldly and impassively from the front row, is Nightmare. BILL HEWSON: Folks, Nightmare came out with his OWN ticket during the commercial break and helped himself to a seat front-row center. JACK JONES: He says he's got issues with Rees, and sure enough, I had to look it up, Nightmare's last match in the books here was against Rees, he lost by count-out. He holds grudges likE an ex-wife, that guy. Ol' Salty, sensing his client's panic, calls to him from ringside and shous some word of encouragement... soon to be drowned out by "SCIENCE!" To raucous applause, a slight-looking man in a crisp blue jumpsuit strides through the curtain, the Provincial Title fitted through his extra-large belt loops. FRANK WARBURTON: And now, please WELCOME the CHAMPION... WEIGHING IN AT ONE-HUNDRED, EIGHTY POUNDS, from DELIVERY DISPATCH, DELIVERY MAN... ONE! HUNDRED! JACK JONES: In case you haven't watched our product in maybe three months and you're just tuning in, Frank means to say "Stein". BILL HEWSON: Well, whatever you call him, our Provincial Champion seems to have quite an unnerving effect on The Lemondrop Kid. And he's setting out solo, no fellow Delivery Men in sight! JACK JONES: And that INCLUDES our Tag Team Champions, who are scheduled to defend against D-X later... man, if Rees can't get over his nerves in the next fifteen seconds, I hesitate to think as to what's gonna happen to him. Stein climbs into the ring and politely surrenders the belt to the referee. He holds it up for the crowd to see, and Rees, shooting a nervous look to Salty at ringside, ventures out of his corner, loosening up his shoulders. The belt is handed to the timekeeper, IT'S ON! The bell rings and Rees shivers. Stein lurches at him as if something has just been turned on within him--and Rees immediately sticks himself in the ropes, forcing a break. The referee resignedly orders Stein back the few inches he's moved, and then talks Rees out of the ropes. He clears out of the way and Stein resumes his advance. Collar-and-Elbow tie-up... DODGED. Instead, Rees rolls out of the ring. Salty meets him at ringside as the ref starts his count. Both Rees and Salty look inside the ring, and see a patiently-waiting Stein. Salty pulls out the flask from his brown paper bag, unscrews it, tilts his client's head back and pours about half of the contents in. He stops, takes a swig, then pours the rest back into Rees. He slaps Rees' back, Rees wipes his mouth, and slides back into the ring on the "eight" count. The Lemondrop Kid, a spitfire, throughs a solid right hand--methodically caught in Stein's hand. Rees looks at his caught hand and hyperventilates--BACK-hand Slap from Stein. Rees staggers forwards again and throws another right hand--CAUGHT, Short-Arm Clothesline from Stein. Rees rolls back onto his feet, scowls at his fist, then gives it one more chance--fist is CAUGHT, Stein slips behind him, High-Angle Backdrop drives Rees into the mat like a bent nail. Stein gets back onto his feet. Pulling Rees up, Irish Whip sends Rees into the ropes, rebounds into a Half-Nelson Bulldog, a Delivery Man specialty. Stein gets the Lemondrop Kid in the Neck Scissors, squeezing Rees' throat. BILL HEWSON: Boy, Stein certainly has the psychological advantage in this match--Rees usually performs better than this. But what's the story with NIGHTMARE? He's still just sitting there, and I can't tell if he's happy or sad that Lloyd Rees is getting manhandled! JACK JONES: Nightmare's one of the NAPW talent that's always been a few bacon bits short of a salad, if you catch my meaning. Who KNOWS what that psycho wants? And furthermore, who CARES? Nightmare is, in fact, following the action VERY intently with his eyes, the rest of his face a blank slate. Meanwhile, back in the ring, Rees finds the werewithal to jam his hand in under Stein's knee and SLOWLY pull the Neck Scissors apart. Rees finds the ropes and hauls himself up, but The Delivery Man's the first man up--Throat Chop! Rees, bug-eyed, clutches at his throat and falls limp to the mat, bouncng onto his back. Grabbing him by the knees, Stein lifts him slightly off the mat... and then starts turning... JACK JONES: Stein has Rees in the Giant Swing... he's swinging him... swinging him... swinging him... swinging him... BILL HEWSON: Stein has Rees in the GIANT SWING! He's swinging him! Swinging him! SWINGING HIM!! SWINGING HIM!! --and release, KERBLAMMO, Rees going skidding into the corner turnbuckle. Stein drags him by the ankle to the centre of that mat, here's your cover, ONE! TWO! KICK-OUT! Lloyd Rees KICKS out of Stein's pin, a dark glint in his eye. JACK JONES: It's all well and good that Rees is so tough, but unless he figures out how to get some offense in--THERE WE GO. Stein had been advancing on Rees again, when a well-timed Polish... er, Placentia Hammer smashes against his knee. Stein staggers back, but presses forward with another Throat Chop--scouted, avoided and countered, Rees slips behind and it's Russian Legsweep time! Rees rams his elbow in Stein's puss for good measure, then stands. Stein sits up, which causes the stunned Rees to put up his dukes. Stein stands and both men lock-up, Delivery Man #100 grabbing the tights for a suplex, Lloyd Rees countering by hooking his leg, twists... the lock-up... over, setting up for a neckbreaker--NO. Stein stands STRAIGHT and brings Rees along with him--what STRENGTH from the deceptively light-looking Stein--Rees is carried up and over back onto his feet, the lock-up still being held, and they're back where they started. Some applause for that particular transition, but now Stein's forcing a switch to behind Rees-- BILL HEWSON: --and THAT means Smothered in Ketchup-- --and so SIT-OUT! Jaw Jammer from Rees to Stein stymies his progress. At ringside, Nightmare's eyes flash in interest--but in the ring, Stein is still feeling the effects of that counter. Rees is on the move--Front Facelock... Drop, both men falling prone to the mat, Stein taking the worst of it. Rees, pumped with adrenalin, runs over to Stein's legs, traps the ankle, and then reaches all the way over to hook his fingers in Stein's mouth. JACK JONES: Gross. BILL HEWSON: It's a Fishhook STF, nothing LEGAL about it, and the ref's asking Rees to break up that completely disrespectful hold! Ref counts a ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! Rees breaks contact with Stein's face by the final count, and wipes his fingers off on the mat with a disgusted look on his face. Grabbing Stein by the legs, he pulls him by crab-walking to the centre of the ring, and then folds his legs up for the Lance Cove Leglock. Stein's painy-face mode executes and the scramble for the ropes is ON. Palming the mat, Stein's got a couple of handspans to go... and Rees is cinching the hold back to make sure it doesn't happen. Stein 's hands tremble, he's eyeing the ropes so intently... one more hand on the mat, a violent tug by Rees, and then a surge forward by Stein--bottom rope grabbed! And now Rees is being instructed to release the hold! BILL HEWSON: And he's taking four seconds to do so, no surprise there... but I'm surprised to see Stein seemingly so vulnerable in that leglock, Jones! I'd been led to believe that it'd be IMPOSSIBLE to bring him to a submission loss, and he looked almost ready to tap! JACK JONES: Hey, whaddya want? Pain's a human condition--Stein's desperate to ACT more human, ipso facto ergo sum and all that jazz. Stein, looking exhausted and clutching the bottom rope, invites Rees to run off the far ropes and make a charge--Stein at the ready, dodges and yanks he TOP rope down, sending Rees flipping to ringside. The Delivery Man manually checks the integrity of his knee, then pulls himself to standing as the ref starts counting Rees out with a ONE! Ol' Salty runs to his client and starts slapping some life into him, TWO! THREE! Stein holds his arm out to the Newfies and provides a Rock-like "Bring It!" FOUR! This enrages Ol' Salty, who throws caution to the wind and slides into the ring, looking to bumrush Stein--Stein easily latches his hands around Salty's neck and Choke Tosses him to the other side of the ring and past the bottom rope to the outside. There's no harm to Stein, so no DQ--a CHOP BLOCK to the back of Stein's knee from a recovered Lloyd Rees! He picked his spot and too his opponent down when his back was turned--and runs to the ropes for a Fresh Water Flip! Connects! ONE! TWO! SHOULDER UP! Rees snarls, demonstrating THREE FINGERS, Me By'e! Sour, Rees pulls Stein up via handfuls of his bushy hair and props him roughly into the corner. He backs up to the centre of the ring, calls to the crowd-- LLOYD REES: Let's hear't for Newfoun'land, ya squabby Albert'ns! --and as the crowd boos, he takes a running start at Stein, CLOTHESLINE, Stein takes ALL of it! Stein spills out of the corner, while Rees scoops him up--Fireman's Carry? NO--GORILLA PRESS. Rees has his man set up for the East End Drop, Stein hoisted over his head for all of the cat-calling Prairie scum to see... a twitch, a wiggle, Stein falls free! Behind Rees--SCHOOLBOY! A QUICK SCHOOLBOY! JACK JONES: RIP-OFF! ONE! TWO! KICK-OUT by Rees but Stein's on his feet first! Irish Whip into the ropes--Stein picks him up off of the rebound, and now REES is in the Gorilla Press! The crowd roars its approval as the Delivery Man holds the Lemondrop Kid WELL above his head, turning to all for sides for the Grande Prairie crowd to see. SLAM! Call it a night, Stein's got the cover--ONE! TWO! LEG! It was literally at the last second, but Lloyd Rees kicked his leg up on the rope and broke the pin-count. Stein mulls on this and walks to the centre of the ring. STEIN: Perhaps now I shall do my finisher! And then walks back to Rees to wild applause. He's pulling Rees up--Rees lashes out with a THUMB TO THE--HAND. Stein quickly catches onto Rees' thumb and pulls him, howling, to the centre of the ring--then spins him around to lace their arms--SMOTHERED IN KETCHUP--Rees HURLS himself backwards with all of his might, driving Stein into the ropes, which jostles him free. Rees throws an elbow smash into Stein's gut, twice, three times, DIAMOND CUT--NO! Stein's arms hooked the ropes and Lloyd Rees crashes to the mat solo. Rees POUNDS the mat in anger, and Stein's wasted no time going for him. Choke Toss carries Rees up and over, slamming his back to the mat. Stein goes for the Tongan Death Grip with Rees on the mat, but Rees twists and puts his leg on the nearby bottom rope. JACK JONES: Okay. Now I get why we do Pure Honour matches. Stein doesn't hesitate to break the hold, and waits for Rees to pick himself up, stalking him, watching him from inside the ring just as Nightmare does from the front row--Stein charges with a kick, but a desperate-looking Rees SIDE-STEPS... DDT FROM THE GREEN! And Stein's head bounces off the mat like a tennis ball! And Rees, teeth gritted, simply picks him up by the armpits, pulling him to his feet... and hits ANOTHER DDT FROM THE GREEN! Two in a row--HOOK OF THE LEG! ONE! TWO! SHOULDER UP! The crowd SQUEALS as the fan-favourite raises his shoulder out from under Rees. Salty's pounding on the ring apron, and the look of terror on Rees' face from the beginning of the match seems to have returned. Rees rises fast to kick Stein in the ribs, then hoists him up by the armpits one more time-- BILL HEWSON: No! COME ON! --DDT FROM THE GREEN! A THIRD one--and Rees is now draping his entire body over for the cover. ONE. TWO. THREE---SHOULDER UP. Rees throws himself off of his opponent, at first hysterical, and then red-faced. He rushes to Salty's side and SCREAMS a rapid-fire burst of vowels and apostrophes. It's clearly understood, though, as Ol' Salty then pie-faces Frank Warburton off of his chair, folds it up, then slides it in to Rees' waiting hands-- JACK JONES: DON'T DO IT, THERE'S A REF-- --and as Stein forces himself up to his knees, Rees rings the chair down over-hand onto his skull. The ref practically JUMPS out of his stripes signalling to the time-keeper. FRANK WARBURTON: As a result of a DISQUALIFICATION, here is YOUR WINNER and STIIIILL PROVINCIAL CHAMPION, DELIVERY MAN ONE-HUUUUNDRED! With the crowd howling for his head, Rees grins maniacally at the downed Stein, while Ol' Salty tosses his lage canvas sack into the ring. BILL HEWSON: Look at him, Jones! He's grinning like he won the match--or the Provincial Title! JACK JONES: I don't think Rees had the mind-set he needed to beat Stein clean, but WOW--he sure had it in him to lay him out, that's for sure. BILL HEWSON: NOW what? With Salty in the ring, both him and Rees start pulling a large, crusty-looking net from the canvas bag--and traps the net around the fallen Delivery Man. They shove him out the ring like a spoiled catch, and then start roughly dragging him up the ramp as the crowd boos even harder. JACK JONES: Well, THAT'S telling... Nightmare ain't lifting a FINGER to do nothin'. Why's THAT, I wonder? And where's all of the Delivery Men with the timely rescue? BILL HEWSON: I don't know, I don't know... Nightmare doesn't seem to have reacted to anyone OTHER than Lloyd Rees, and we haven't seen any other Delivery Men all night! Rees stops his share of the dragging to get a kick in, and then helps resume carry the helpless Stein through the curtain as the crowd stays ugly. JACK JONES: Folks, just a reminder, it's not assault and kidnapping in the professional wrestling biz. Stick around, we've got Rex Caliber vs Evan Cartwright, it's coming up... NEXT.
FRANK WARBURTON: The following contest is scheduled for ONE FALL! Introducing first, from Cairo Illinois. He stands an even six feet, and weighs in at two-hundred, twenty-two... and one quarter pounds! A three-time Provincial Champion... ladies and gentlemen, I give you "Perfection"... I give you Evan Cartwright! BILL HEWSON: It was several weeks ago that The Delivery men ended the nearly four month tag title reign of Evan Cartwright & Sick Billy Kryenik. Since that match, since Kryenik's neck injury, Evan Cartwright has shown a new side of himself. He thinks he's God's gift to women, to wrestling, to music... JACK JONES: You'd argue otherwise, of course, but there's no accounting for taste. Evan Cartwright is going to slap Rex Caliber's lazy eye straight, Hewson. Evan takes his time striding to the ring, throwing his towel up and catching it in mid-air. He spits his gum out and SWATS~ it out of the air before stepping through the ring ropes. Pose! BOOOOOO. Cartwright never loses that smug expression. FRANK WARBURTON: And his opponent... "MORE HUMAN THAN HUMAN!" BOOM. You don't hear a pop like a REX CALIBER pop, baby! THE (former) CHAMP IS HERE. FRANK WARBURTON: He is a former NAPW Heavyweight Champion! From Parts Unknown, North Carolina, he weighs in at two-hundred forty-five pounds and stands six feet, three inches tall! Ladies and gentlemen... "THE NEXUS ONE"... REX! CALIBERRRRR! BILL HEWSON: Sure to be a great match here --- and here we go! No time wasted, and these men are going to town on one another! JACK JONES: It's about pride, Bill Hewson! They've never wrestled before... Evan Cartwright wants into the top three, and Rex Caliber is standing in his way.
JACK JONES: You know who Evan Cartwright reminds me of? BILL HEWSON: Curt Hennig comes to mind...
BILL HEWSON: Evan Cartwright now taking control, trying to keep Rex Caliber down on the mat, Caliber's so explosive. I'll never take anything away from Evan Cartwright's technical ability... but unlike Rick Steamboat, Evan Cartwright isn't much in the way of fair play or honor. Honor's something Carter Owens will be looking to teach Evan Cartwright about next week at Get The Hell Off Our Lawn... ooh, what a shot! Cartwright takes Rex down again, he's looking for the deadly Fujiwara armbar. But Caliber won't let it happen, he pulls Evan down to the canvas, looking for a cross-armbreaker! Cartwright links his hands, refusing to let Rex hyper-extend the arm... elbow to Caliber's throat area by Cartwright, which nets a warning from Referee John Sharplin. Cartwright smirks and gets up, hooking Caliber in a front suplex. He hoists him up, that's blocked, tries again, blocked... and reversed by Rex Caliber! Evan splats on the canvas, and Caliber gets a much needed chance to turn the momentum around. Evan rushes Caliber, only to run into an inverted atomic drop. Right in the perfect sack! Evan limps around, and Caliber gets the atomic drop from the other side. Caliber grabs him again... back suplex, almost an Exploder. Caliber makes a cover, gets a one. He pulls Evan up and front-face locks him --- vicious forearms from Rex Caliber! He hooks one arm and flips Evan over in a brutal RexPlexlookingfor the RINGS OF REX! Evan Cartwright fighting it off, he doesn't want to be in that hold yet, and makes the ropes quickly. JACK JONES: Evan Cartwright knows where he is in that ring at all times, look how quickly he got to the ropes. That's the caliber of wrestler we need in NAPW, not the... uh, Caliber in the ring. BILL HEWSON: Gotcha. We seem to have a stalemate now. Both men have dominated, tried to get a submission, and now we're at square one. The pace of this match slowing down as both men try to get a feel for each other. Evan calls for a test of strength? He extends his hand, flexing the fingers. Rex meets him... they lock the other hand... and push against each other. Seems strange, Evan isn't known for his strength --- Kneelift! Evan gets his head under Rex's arms, NORTHERN LIGHTS SUPLEX. ONE! TWO! Rex kicks out. Sambo Suplex, Rex elbows out, hits the ropes, RUNNING STO, Evan grabs the arm instead FUJIWARA ARMBAR IS LOCKED IN! Rex roars in pain, the crowd rallying behind him as Evan tries to break his arm. BILL HEWSON: These two are just counter-wrestling each other, but Evan Cartwright has the upper hand --- unbelievable, going into the armbar from Rex's STO! And Rex Caliber could tap out here, he's in a bad situation! JACK JONES: He's not much without his hardcore rules, is he Hewson? BILL HEWSON: Next week it will be Rex Caliber vs Ravager in a Street Fight, but Rex Caliber can hurt you in so many ways --- JACK JONES: He might want to tap out now, or he'll be going into the Ravager fight with a broken wing. And that's just stupid. "REX! REX! REX!" chants the crowd. Skootch skootch skootch goes Rex. "TAP TAP TAP" goes Evan Cartwright. And wait a minute... somebody just came out from the entrance way. BILL HEWSON: I don't... it's Billy Kryenik! Why is he out here, he's...he's still in that neck halo! His neck was broken in that match with Bruce "The Beast" Richards last week! JACK JONES: Moral support, Bill Hewson. Kryenik isn't just going to ditch out on his partner like Evan's last partner did! And...Caliber makes the ropes. Evan holds on for one, two, three, four. "I've got a five count, ref!" Caliber begins to pull himself up... Cartwright goes for the BOSTON CRAB! He's the master of that move, and he drags Rex back out to the center of the ring... Caliber grabs Evan's leg though! He stands up, causing Evan to fall face-first, hooks the legs with his hands... and it's a Nexus Cloverleaf! Evan Cartwright may tap now! Kryenik slaps the mat, wincing, trying to rally Evan as the crowd now chants "TAP TAP TAP." Rex leans back, his bald head covered in sweat, expression fierce, eyes googly... Evan is crawling. Crawling. CRAWLING... and he makes the ropes, forcing a break. Caliber holds on briefly, then lets go. He's immediately over to Evan, grabbing the man around the waist... he hauls him over --- Evan tries to grab the top rope to no avail --- and a RELEASE German Suplex compresses Cartwright's spine. Caliber dives in for the cover, ONE. TWO. KICK-OUT. BILL HEWSON: What a German Suplex by Rex Caliber, somehow Evan Cartwright kicks out. But will he kick out of THIS? JACK JONES: Oh yeah, this is... this is bad. BILL HEWSON: Rex Caliber is putting Evan Cartwright on the top rope, setting him up for Total Annihiliation! If he hits the Muscle Buster, this one is over! Caliber pulls Evan's head down, getting him in position...wait a minute! Cartwright, showing incredible athleticism, FLIPS off the top rope with a NECKBREAKER. Good GOD, Caliber is TOAST. Cartwright makes a cover.... ONE! TWO! Kick out by The Nexus One. Cartwright blinks furiously, trying to get his bearings back after that German Suplex dropped him on his head. European uppercuts keep Rex dazed, and then Evan shoots Rex into the ropes, Rex comes out... into the Sambo Suplex! But Cartwright doesn't cover, opting to pick up the dazed opponent. Cartwright gets two steps backwards... And then unloads the most insane uppercut ever witnessed in an NAPW ring. The Perfect Uppercut. BILL HEWSON: Rex Caliber actually left his feet from that uppercut before coming down to earth... hard! What an uppercut by Evan Cartwright! JACK JONES: All I have to say, Bill Hewson, is TOASTYYYYYY! BILL HEWSON: There's a cover! ONE! TWO! TH--- HE KICKED OUT! JACK JONES: TOASTYYYY---what do you MEAN, he kicked out?! Cartwright sits up, eyes wide with anger. "(BLEEP)!" is more than audible. Cartwright gets up, and makes it clear that this is OVER. He grabs Rex Caliber up, looking for the CARTWHEEL. The Wheelbarrow Suplex comes into play... but Rex Caliber counters! Caliber with a judo throw on Evan Cartwright, flipping him over his shoulder. He plants his feet as Evan rolls back up and hits the ropes... Evan charges! ROARING ELBOW---no! Rex catches him with the STO! ONE! TWO! TH---Evan CARTWRIGHT kicks out this time! Caliber picks Evan up again... he hooks the face! Hooks a leg! The High Cradle Suplex, Brock Lesnar style...connects! Float over, pin, ONE, TWO, TH--- JACK JONES: He kicked out! Phew, he kicked out! For a second I was worried--- BILL HEWSON: That it was over? It was so close! JACK JONES: No, I was worried that Evan would be knocked out from such close proximity to Rex Caliber. I mean... North Carolinians kinda smell funny. BILL HEWSON: Will you stop? These two men exchanging near falls, big moves, what will it take for this match to end? Both men are slow to get up, eyeing each other across the ring. Caliber's freaks of nature are LOUD and ROWDY... they charge at one another! Cartwright ducks Caliber's attempt to grab him, ducks around behind, grabs the waist, Caliber gets a standing switch, and goes for something we haven't seen from him, a crab-style pinning predicament ONE, TWO, Cartwright gets out of that and flips over with Caliber's legs into a pin (HBK/Jericho style) ONE TWO, Caliber RISES his way up in a huge show of strength, then he turns the move, so Cartwright is in position for--- an UNPRETTIER? Using Chris Casino's old finishing move, but Cartwright has it well scouted, grabbing Rex's legs and dropping him down, going for the Boston Crab, Rex fights it and gets a pin out of it, ONE, TWO, Cartwright turns it the other way ONE, TWO, both men detangle and get back up! Cartwright fires an irish whip, reversed by Caliber ROARING ELBOW. Cartwright KILLS Rex dead and gets ONE TWO THREE! CARTWRIGHT WINS---wait a minute! JACK JONES: YEAHHH---what do you mean WAIT a minute? BILL HEWSON: Rex got his foot on the ropes before three! Sharplin hit the canvas three times, but saw Rex's foot on the ropes as he hit the third one, he's telling Evan Cartwright no go, this match WILL continue! JACK JONES: He slapped the mat three times, it's over, everybody knows that! What shoddy officiating THIS is. Sharplin is standing his ground, holding up two fingers to one pissed off Evan Cartwright. But behind Evan, Rex Caliber is somehow getting to his feet. Cartwright turns around --- and eats a toe kick! Caliber gets the standing headscissors, then sets up for a STYLES CLASH... no! Evan, goes high, falling over Rex's back for a sunset flip ONE TWO, Rex shifts forwards, he's pinning Evan ONE TWO, Evan moves it forwards again ONE TWO and then they break! Evan gouges Rex in the eye, Wheelbarrow Suplex, this is OVER--- WAIT! INSIDE CRADLE! ONE! TWO! ... THREE!!! The fans explode! FRANK WARBURTON: Here is YOUR winner... REX! CALIBER! BILL HEWSON: An amazing match, amazing match --- Evan Cartwright from behind! Why! He won fair and square, there's no need for this! JACK JONES: He had the tights, Bill Hewson! Not to mention that John Sharplin counted FAST. That was some of the worst officiating I've seen since ... what was the last match Earl Hebner refereed? BILL HEWSON: Rex didn't, Sharplin didn't --- and now Evan Cartwright, oh that's classy, just paintbrushing the back of Rex Caliber's head... he just spit his gum on him! JACK JONES: Rex should keep it, it might be worth something! BILL HEWSON: The match was won by Rex Caliber, but there you see "Perfection"... it could've gone either way, so damn close, and there go Evan Cartwright & Billy Kryenik. Cartwright, a black look on his face, takes off with Kryenik trying to follow. As fast as he can in his state. In the ring, Sharplin helps Rex up, then raises his hand as the winner--- BACKSTAGE again. Promo & Ravager are STILL. FIGHTING. Everytime officials break it up, they get back into it. WHAM! Promo sends Ravager flying out the doors, they're once again in the venue parking lot! Promo keeps coming, Ravager looking like he's decided to retreat. Promo slugs him good, knocking Ravager to the ground. He stalks his man, ready to beat him--- Ravager goes low on Promo, nailing him in the nuts. The White Collar Assassin sprints out of the scene as Promo coughs on his knees... but that doesn't keep the masked man down for long. He gets up, yelling "Where you are, huh? Come out and fight---*" DIVE An unmarked black sedan SCREECHES by, Promo narrowly diving out of the way! The license plate says "RVGR-1"... Promo runs after the car for a moment... then pulls up his mask partway, spitting on the ground.
JACK JONES: Wow. BILL HEWSON: If you're just joining us, moments ago we saw what had become an uncontrolled brawl between RAVAGER and PROMO take a brutal turn. Ravager literally attempted to run-down Promo with a car in the parking lot! JACK JONES: I can't believe that got so nasty, so quickly. Good Lord. I can't even think of an insult towards that mask-wearing Sabu-pants wearing matchstick head Promo freak! BILL HEWSON: Clearly. We are getting set for the TAG TEAM TITLE match, but we are getting word --- apparently THE DELIVERY MEN are not HERE yet! They're nowhere to be found! JACK JONES: Have you looked at the first few rows? There's a LEGION of Delivery Men in this building! During the last commercial break, like, HELLO! Look over there! Over there? Is a legion of nearly one-hundred Delivery Men seated, all in identical blue "Edmonton Delivery Service" jumpsuits. They wave to the camera. BILL HEWSON: A few Delivery men are missing, looking for Stein & Lloyd Rees backstage --- but what about #1 and #2, the tag team champions? FRANK WARBURTON: This next match is a tag team contest scheduled for one fall and it is for the NAPW Tag Team Championship! Introducing first, the challengers- "Low" hits and the crowd reacts loudly to show their hatred for the former tag team champions - except for a small but vocal minority of Charts-Chanters - as the New & Improved D-X come out from the back along with Bill Fleming. FRANK WARBURTON: At a combined weight of five-hundred and twenty-seven pounds, "Stylin'" Kyle Roberts and Bruce "The Beast" Richards... the NEW and IMPROVED DEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-X! NAIDX hits the ring and go to their corner, holding a quick conference to determine who will be the man to start the match. Roberts gets the nod and struts to the center of the ring and tips a wink to Morgan Smythe, who takes a step back from Roberts. FRANK WARBURTON: And now, their opponents! At a combined- Warburton sighs and glances at the gaggle of Delivery Men seated in the front rows who motion for him to go on, then reads from a notecard handed to him before the match. FRANK WARBURTON: At a combined height of eleven feet, eleven inches, they are the NAPW Tag Team Champions and long shall they reign! Delivery Man #1! Delivery Man #2! The DEEEEEEEEEEEELIVERY MEN! The crowd is hushed for a moment as the music continues with no Delivery Men... Suddenly, backstage! BILL HEWSON: HERE THEY COME! The Delivery Truck CAREEENS into the scene --- SCREEEEECH! The back door opens, and GIANT OVERSIZED SYTROFOAM cars, weights, safes, brick walls et all spill out over the parking lot! Josh Reynolds is there to get a word--- JOSH REYNOLDS: DELIVERY MEN! Your title defense is happening RIGHT NOW, what happened? #1: Hey, Jonah, we subcontracted a little job out for FOMT --- what with the rebellion against the empire and all, we got a little held up! But now it's time to kick D-X's sorry asses back to Disney Land! JOSH REYNOLDS: But what about Lloyd Rees capturing Stein in a net and disappearing with him earlier tonight?! #2: He did WHAT in the WHO now? Lissen Josh, you give us five minutes, we'll wrap up those punks in the ring, and then we'll get down to fishing for Lemondrop Kids! Outta the way, man! The camera follows the tag champions as they rush through the Decoy Armoury. Cut to the ringside entranceway camera... and Bam! The curtain is flung aside and #1 and #2 explode out from the back, holding their titles high over their heads. The ovation from the crowd is titanic, causing even Roberts and Richards to look just a teensy bit worried before getting their game faces back on. The Delivery Men run down either side of the entrance aisle, slapping every hand they possibly can before hitting the ring. #1 slides under the bottom and #2 leaps over the top before they both go to the corners and raise the belts in the air again. D-X retreat to ringside as the tag champions celebrate. They both turn to face D-X and One yells, "TWO of us to DO IT!" Two continues, "And ONE of you to FEEL IT!" The crowd screams along with the Delivery Men, "THE DELIVERY DROP!" BOOM! Fireworks explode from the corners and D-X shield their eyes and take several steps back. Roberts begins barking at Smythe to get this match started and stop the shenanigans, then almost immediately grins and apologizes for his harsh tone, baby. Roberts gets back into the ring as the Delivery Men decide that Two will have the honor of giving that frick Kyle the first beating. One retreats to the outside as the Beast gets back up on the apron and points across the ring at the toughest Delivery Man. Richards and Two meet in the center of the ring as Morgan Smythe gives them the down and dirty rules rundown. Roberts nods and smiles, but it isn't the rules that he's paying attention to. Smythe tells him to keep his eyes up, then sends both back to their corners and calls for the bell- Roberts turns on his heel and wails Two across the back of the head with a clothesline! Two goes down hard and Roberts is all over him, slapping him on the back of the head before spinning around and locking in a front facelock. Two struggles and Roberts allows him to get back to his feet before driving two hard knees up into Two's chest. Roberts motions to Richards, who raises one big boot onto the top rope in the corner. Smythe sees it and goes over to admonish Bruce Richards, allowing Roberts to slip to hold down into an illegal choke. Roberts falls backwards and wraps his legs around Two's torso to complete the guillotine, leaning back into it hard while Two drums his heels and tries to pull free of the hold. Smythe comes back and catches the illegal choke and immediately begins the five count. Roberts quickly releases the hold and stands up, dragging Two up to his feet with one hand and smiling at Morgan. Roberts pushes Two into the corner and leans in on him until Smythe breaks them up. Stylin' Kyle backs off with his hands raised and smiling, and while he has the attention of the ref, the Beast begins choking Two on the top rope. The Beast turns and UNLOADS a European uppercut that nearly takes Two out of his boots as Smythe turns back around. BILL HEWSON: I shouldn't have expected anything less from D-X, they are masters of manipulating the rules to their advantage, when they aren't just out and out breaking them! JACK JONES: ItŐs a tag team match, Hewson! They're using two guys! What do you expect from them? BILL HEWSON: Oh, I don't know. Tagging, maybe? We didn't see much of that in their last match. Hewson gets what Hewson wants! Roberts gives Two an almost lazy kick in the side of the head before tagging out to Bruce Richards. Nothing lazy about this man as he immediately yanks Two up off the mat and sends him into the ropes. HUGE shoulder block from Richards sends Two flying right back across the ring, landing on the back of his neck. The Beast advances and grabs Two by the arm to wrench him right back upright and into a short-arm clothesline. Right back up to his feet when Richards doesn't release the arm and the Beast throws Two into the ropes- reversed! Two has to throw himself to the mat to even budge the Beast, but it works as Richards hits the ropes and then jumps over Two on the way back. Two up to his feet on the second trip and executes a hip toss on Richards- NO! Bruce Richards just uses pure muscle to keep himself anchored on the mat. Two tries to pull him over again but nothing doing as Richards brings his right hand across to pound into Two's ribs. Two doubles over and Richards hooks him up in a pumphandle hold... Richards turns and overhead pumphandle toss RIGHT OVER THE TOP ROPE! Two crashes into the restraining barrier on the outside after the awesome display of strength from Bruce Richards, who comes to his feet with a roar! BILL HEWSON: This is why they call him The Beast, folks! Like him or not, you have to be impressed by Bruce Richards! JACK JONES: I can't wait to see the chart for that move! Bruce Richards v. Gravity! Two v. Railings! Bill Fleming makes his way around the ring to the fallen Two, to the jeers from the entire contingent of Delivery Men on hand tonight, and starts screaming at him about inevitable failure. Bruce Richards tags out to Stylin' Kyle, who quickly goes to the outside as Morgan Smythe reaches four in her mandatory ten count - can't win those belts by count out! Roberts scoops Two up off the floor and rolls him right back into the ring. Kyle Roberts makes the cover; two count before One makes the save! One drops both hands hard on the back of Robert's head and Smythe immediately forces him out of the ring. Roberts slaps his hands over his head and the Beast storms into the ring to lay the boots into Two. Stylin' Kyle and Bruce Richards send Two into the ropes then drop him with a double clothesline. NEW and IMPROVED double legdrop! Roberts rolls out of the ring and Bruce Richards make the cover as Smythe gets One back to his corner; One! Two! Thr-shoulder up! Two is still fighting in this thing, somehow! Richards locks in the front facelock on the ground and then stands up and drags Two right back into enemy territory. D-X goes old school as Richards makes the tag and then lifts the arm of Two, exposing his side for Kyle Roberts to slam a boot into. Roberts kicks Two again for good measure, then sends him flying into the ropes as the Beast leaves the ring. Roberts spins Two around for the tilt-a-whirl backbreak-HURRICARANA! Two reverses it and Kyle Roberts gets thrown right out of the ring! Two is down and Roberts is out of the ring! One and all the other Delivery Men are cheering for Two to make the tag! One is leaning over as far as he can, but Two is still all the way across the ring. Two begins the long crawl towards one of the eight whirling One's he sees, placing one arm in front of the other to move forward agonizingly slow. On the outside Bill Fleming is trying to revive Roberts, but it looks like he knocked his head on the apron on the way out. Richards is stomping his feet and motioning for Kyle to get up, but to no effect. Two is nearly halfway across the ring now, and it looks like he is going to make it! The Beast drops down from the apron and pushes Fleming aside, grabbing Kyle by the back of the neck and the trunks and rolling him back into the ring. Two is straining his arm out, but can't quite make it as Richards gets back on the apron and reaches down to slap the still woozy Roberts across the back of the head. Bruce Richards storms across the ring and stomps on Two's hand as he reaches out to claw himself the last few inches! The Beast hauls Two up off the mat and flashes a grin at One before lifting him for a cobra clutch bomb-reversed! Two gets his arms free and falls back to the mat, but not without tossing The Beast right back where he came from with an arm drag! Roberts, getting his senses back after the slap across his head, reaches out and tags himself back in, stumbling across the ring to stop... THE HOT TAG! Two slaps One's hands and One comes into the ring! BILL HEWSON: The tag has been made! And Roberts is not happy about it! JACK JONES: It was a fluke! D-X had the perfect game plan! BILL HEWSON: You can't plan against the heart of the Delivery Men! Roberts tries to beg off but One turns him inside-out with a running clothesline as he tries to back away. Richards is just getting back to his feet when a boot catches the side of his head and sends him tumbling to the apron. Roberts back and gets dropped again by a spinning back elbow. The Beast won't stay down and gets back to his feet on the outside - which proves to be a mistake as he eats a bicycle kick to the mush! Bruce Richards falls to the outside and lands right on a screaming Bill Fleming! Kyle Roberts back to his feet a third time, and this time he gets lifted right onto the shoulder of One! Delivery Man #1 runs to the corner and heaves, sending Kyle Roberts airborne and then crashing down into the top turnbuckle courtesy of the snake eyes! Stylin' Kyle stumbles back right into the waiting arms of One and a deadly side bearhug! One cranks up the pressure, lifting Kyle Roberts right off of his feet. Roberts flails his arms and shakes his head wildly as Smythe checks on him. Roberts tries to claw the eyes of One, but One turns his head to avoid it. Kyle Roberts looks to be getting weaker as he can't pull any air into his lungs and One continues to wrench the hold, shaking Roberts back and forth like a ragdoll. Robert's head lolls to the side and his arms fall limp under the constant unrelenting pressure. Morgan Smythe raises his arm... it falls! One is nodding his head furiously. Smythe raises his arm again... it falls! One can taste victory, every muscle in his arms standing out in stark relief as he squeezes the life from Kyle Roberts. Morgan Smythe raises the arm for the third and final time and it... falls along with everyone else as The Beast hurls himself bodily at both men! The hold is broken and the Beast is pounding away on One with heavy shots while One just tries to cover up. Kyle is slumped on the mat completely out of it. Morgan Smythe tries to break up the melee, but the Beast shoves her out of the way with one arm. A still-weary two has seen enough and he hits the ring and dives onto Richards' back. Two locks in a sleeper hold and the Beast rears up to his feet. Bruce Richards runs across the ring and turns at the last second to drive Two into the turnbuckles. Two's eyes go wide but he maintains the hold as One staggers back to his feet. Bruce Richards takes another running start and turns to crush Two into the opposite corner! Two is showing great tenacity, refusing to release the hold as Richards leans against him with all of his considerable weight. Richards' is turning bright red in the hold, but absolutely refuses to go down. BILL HEWSON: Two is doing everything he can to hold on and the Beast just will not fall! JACK JONES: Might as well try to choke out a mountain, Hewson! I'm surprised Two's arms even fit around Bruce Richards' neck! BILL HEWSON: Morgan Smythe is valiantly trying to regain control of this match, but she might need a tranquilizer gun to accomplish that! The Beast grabs hold of both of Two's arms and charges out of the corner again, head down and really pumping his legs to squash the annoying Delivery Man like a bug... but this time he is knocked off course by One! From a three-point stance, One football tackles the Beast, knocking him sprawling to the side and right into Morgan Smythe! The combined weight of the Beast and Two land right on the female official, crushing her into the mat! The sleeper hold is broken as One and Two check on Smythe, but it looks like the damage has been done as both Richards and Roberts are down on the mat. One and Two crouch beside the fallen ref, not taking advantage of their downed opponents - which proves to be a mistake as a glowering Bruce Richards slowly rises to his feet behind them. The Beast reaches out and grabs One in a cobra clutch, hauling him up from the crouch and dropping him in a cobra clutch bomb! Two springs to his feet and eats (literally) The Claw from Richards! Two's eyes go wide as Richards shoves him down towards the mat in the mandible hold. Two suddenly leaps up and wraps both legs around Richard's extended arm, and both men fall to the mat. The Claw! Cross-armbreaker! Richards roars in pain as Two pulls back as hard as he can, trying to escape from The Claw at the same time! The Beast gets back to his knees, his elbow almost completely hyperextended from the effort, then stands up straight and HEAVES Two up off the mat and up - and up and OVER! Bruce Richards tosses Two straight back over his head to come crashing down to the mat. One is back to his feet but so is the Beast, who hammers him with a right hand. The Beast rears back for a clothes and One ducks it! One hooks Bruce Richards and nails a half-nelson bulldog! Two is getting back to his feet slowly and One goes over to help him up. One and Two to the corner! Across the ring Kyle Roberts is finally moving, crawling over to the opposite corner, where Bill Fleming is gesturing for him wildly. Bruce Richards stands back up, eyes wild as he searches the ring for the Delivery Men - and finds them! Two is standing on One's shoulders - ROCKET LAUNCHER is... CAUGHT! Bruce Richards catches Two in mid-air! One can't believe it and begins to charge - tripped! Bill Fleming runs all the way around the ring and catches One's foot. One stumbles and falls right in front of the Beast, who flips Two up onto his shoulders. In the corner Kyle Roberts grins and clutches something to his chest, something that Bill Fleming handed off to him - the ring bell. Roberts to his feet! One trying to stand! Two trapped! The Beast roars and lifts Two high in the air! Roberts charges! One turns! Two hangs suspended before the Chart Attack! Roberts swings! ONE DUCKS! Roberts nails Bruce Richards with the ring bell! The Beats topples backwards and Two lands full on his chest! One grabs Roberts by the legs and flips him over the top rope! Morgan Smythe crawls over and makes the count as the crowd chants along! ONE! TWO! Smythe's hand hangs in the air! Fleming slides into the ring! One intercepts him! The hand falls! THREE! The bell rings as the exhausted Delivery Men lurch to their feet and help an exhausted and worn out Morgan Smythe up to raise their hands! FRANK WARBURTON: Here are your winners and STILL NAPW TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS... THE DELIVERY MEN! Fleming & Roberts pull Richards out of the ring, wearing expressions of shock and dismay. They sling The Beast's arms around their shoulders and begin to help him out. The crowd is going BANANA for the Delivery Men --- The D-Men suddenly sprint off! Cameras FOLLOW them! BILL HEWSON: The Delivery Men don't forget their own! Somewhere, Lloyd Rees has STEIN, Delivery Man #100! And the champs are looking for them! JACK JONES: Wait a minute...Hewson, look up on the video screen! It's REES! Lloyd Rees & Ol' Salty have the netted and pummelled Stein in their grasp, and they've gone behind the Decoy Armoury... LLOYD REES: Dis oughta be enough t'hold dis (BLEEP)ing freak til dey get here, eh 'Salty? OL' SALTY: Aye, my son! Toss de chump in dere! With that, the Newfies give a mighty heave-ho honed by seasons on the cod boats to the net and... toss Stein into a dumpster! Lloyd reaches up and SLAMS the dumpster lid down, brushing his hands off and grinning. LLOYD REES: Der! Dat should hold dis freak til dem guys get here --- holy (BLEEP) bye, look out! THE DELIVERY MEN explode out the back door and make a beeline straight for the Newfoundlanders! Lloyd Rees and Salty throw glances at each other. They decide it's better to beat feet than mess with the angry Delivery Men, and hightail it. #1 chases for a few steps while #2 opens the dumpster and starts tugging the net out. #1 joins in... BILL HEWSON: Thank goodness! What was Lloyd doing, putting Stein in the dumpster? What guys was he talking about? JACK JONES: Not a clue, Hewson. BILL HEWSON: The Delivery Men have rescued their own, and we have to take a commercial break. When we return... the NAPW Heavyweight title will be on the line!
BILL HEWSON: That's your punchline? You're a sick, depraved individual. JACK JONES: Sticks and stones, Bill. FRANK WARBURTON: The following contest is scheduled for one fall... and it is for the NAPW Heavyweeeeight Championnnnnship! The crowd is abuzz and we are soon after greeted by "The Prisoner" by Iron Maiden (80!'s). The crowd gives a respectable pop for the incomprable rookie sensation of NAPW, a one Jake "Crash" Carver. He is flanked by his manager, Daniel (Willem?) DaFoe, dressed a bit more snappy for the big occasion. Crash is dressed in the requisite purple tights and white boots. JACK JONES: Is this guy a Team Man candidate or what? Those tights look extremely fruity. BILL HEWSON: You're the only closet Man Fan here, Jack Attack. FRANK WARBURTON: Approaching the ring, the challenger, accompanied by Daniel DaFoe, from Jackson, Mississippi, weighing in at one-hundred and seventy-seven pounds... CRRRAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSHH CARRRRRRVERRRRRRR! Crash hits the ring and all four corners, soaking up the rapture and adjulation of this moment--he could pull off the upset of the year so far and become the NAPW Heavyweight Champion. He climbs down off the ropes and talks some last-minute strategy with DaFoe when the lights go down and the mood turn ominous. The northern Alberta fans know what to expect and the Decoy Armoury is filled with boos and jeers for the man about to appear to the tune of "Crimes" by the Blood Brothers. FRANK WARBURTON: From Windsor, Ontario, weighing in at one-hundred and seventy-five pounds... he is the Hardcore Luchadore and the reigning NAPW Heavyweight Champiooooooooooon... this... is... STAAAAAAAATIC!!! The NAPW Champion makes his presence felt... and boy, is it a slimy, hateful, sadistic presence. He saunters to the ring with the confidence of Napoleon and the resolve of Caesar--yes, folks, his aura is larger than life itself, making him feel as big and bad as Caliban--proudly wearing the gold title around his waist. JACK JONES: The first real NAPW Champion since Devastation proudly held it for many months. Static has really shown me that he has the drive and desire to be a legend in this business, and this is a good start along the path of legends. BILL HEWSON: Do you ever hear yourself? This man intended to blind his former partner and stole the title in dubious fashion! JACK JONES: Hey, as Evan Cartwright already pointed out, Static was simply trying to fix that lazy eye of Rex's. All he had was a screwy screwdriver, but still, his intentions were good. BILL HEWSON: Yeah, well, the road to hell is paved with good intentions. Jack Jones: Ugh, how cliche; and you call yourself a broadcast journalist. Dick Kiebiech is the man with the plan here, and quickly goes over the basics with both men. Crash is staring dead center into the eyes of the champion. Static appears bored and uninterested, writing Carver off. The bell sounds and we are underway. Crash wastes no time by doing a vertical leap and extending into a dropkick that nails Static in the mush. The champion reels and Crash is on him with a flurry of rights and lefts before the head zebra pulls him off with a warning about using the closed fist so liberally. Crash nods and stalks his man, only to be taken down by a drop toe hold followed by a side headlock from the champion. Crash gets to his feet and Static uses momentum to his advantage by holding onto the lock and sprinting his feet up the ropes and spins around, dropping the challenger with a high-impact bulldog. Static with the early cover and Crash kicks out at one. Static delivers a punt kick to the ribs of a rising Crash and we can hear the air escape his lungs with a groan. He is clutching his side as Static takes a moment to give "the stare," and all of the fans in attendance give him plenty of legit heat. Static sprints to the top and perches there until Crash gets to his feet. The Missile Dropkick hits its mark and Static into another cover; this time, Carver kicks out at two. Static laying in some punches and chops before backing his man into the corner and whipping him across the ring with tremendous force. Carver arches his back in pain and Static further adds to the agony by bodyslamming him with authority. Static again to the top and perches. He has a few choice words with DaFoe, lingering nearby on the outside, and the distraction is just enough for Crash to fall against the ropes and cause Static to lose his balance, getting buckled in the process. OUCH! JACK JONES: Oooooh, right in the mommy/daddy button. BILL HEWSON: Please don't start singing the short ribs song. JACK JONES: I want my baby back, baby back, baby back... BILL HEWSON: Where's a cyanide pill when you need one? Crash composes himself for a brief moment and climbs up to meet Static face-to-face. He nails the champion with several stiff shots before sending him flying with a top rope hurricanrana. The crowd pops big time as Crash races into a cover. Static manages to kick out at two. Carver goes for a gutwrench suplex, but Static flips with the momentum and lands on his feet. He unleashes with a kung fu kick, but Crash catches the foot and shakes his head. Static simply grins underneath his 3/4 mask and unleashes with a patented enziguri. Young Carver didn't expect it and falls forward like a mighty seqouia. Static on his back and applies a rear chinlock. Carver agonizes in the hold for some time while pulling himself forward towards the ropes. He grabs ahold of the bottom rope and Kiebiech calls for a submission break. Static obliges by releasing the chinlock and jumps straight up, landing his feet on the second rope and springboarding high into a double stomp onto the small of Crash Carver's back. Static revels in the pain he has caused and lays his man out further with a snap suplex in the middle of the canvas. Static kips up and flies into the ropes, again with the springboard and connects with the Asai Moonsault. Cover, but again, only two as Crash shoots a shoulder up. Static is getting a bit pissy and lets his fists and boots demonstrate his frustration. Static with a guillotine headlock pulls the challenger to the corner and sets up for the Tornado DDT. He lingers a bit too long, jawing with DaFoe and nearby fans, before going for the Tornado. Carver counters by slipping his head out of Static's grip and slamming the champion forward with a spinebuster. Carver to the second rope and lets fly with an elbow drop to the chest! Float over to the cover... Static has enough to kick out at two. BILL HEWSON: That showboating and cockiness of Static may end up hurting him more than he thinks. Crash Carver is not one to be taken lightly. JACK JONES: Not take a rookie lightly? Hah, you must be kidding me, Hewson. Back in my day, we stretched those greenhorns until they agreed to carry our bags and get us coffee. Static is the champ, he has every right to dismiss Carver like the cockroach that he is. BILL HEWSON: I doubt many would agree with you on that. Especially right now. Crash is heating up as he charges the ropes, flying back with a handspring back elbow that catches a rising Static. Carver again hits the ropes for an Asai, but it turns into a Somersault Senton with a twist (of lime?)! Static looks deflated and Carver again into the cover. Static won't stay down and kicks out at two. DaFoe bellows some strategy out and Crash obliges by dropping the champion with a neckbreaker near one corner of the ring. Crash climbs to the top to some big cheers and unleashes... a Shooting Star Press! JACK JONES: That's STATIC's move, he can't do that! It's no Moment of Clarity! BILL HEWSON: Crash Carver looking to put away the champion with his signature move --- Unfortunately for him, Static had it scouted! The champ lifted his knees just in time, and Crash Carver is in a lot of pain. JACK JONES: High risk, no payoff, that's Crash Carver! Crash lands onto the knees, stomach first, which is a very painful thing, as the face of Crash Carver can attest to. He favors his ribs while Static rolls out of the ring to regroup. Several fans boo him emphatically as he appears to be searching for something under the ring. He finds it and discreetly hides it in his boot. DaFoe is suspicious and lets Kiebiech know what he misses as Static rolls back into the ring. He lays into Crash with some stiff right hand shots before setting him up and executing the FUNCRUSHER. Static covers after the high-impact move, but Crash is close enough to lay a foot on the bottom rope. BILL HEWSON: Neither man is intent on giving up without a true fight! JACK JONES: (on his cell phone): Yes, I'd like the Dom DeLuise Special, extra mustard and horseradish... and make sure you use those long spear kosher pickles, not the crappy dill chips... BILL HEWSON: I hope they fire you, Jack Attack. Static sets Carver up and goes for a crucifix pin. Crash slides out at two and drops Static flat on his back by lifting his legs upward. Crash rolls forward into the pinning predicament, but Static kicks out in time. Static ducks a clothesline and wraps his man up in a small package. Only two as Crash reverses the pin on him. Again two as Static rolls Crash's shoulders back to the mat. One, two... NO! Crash Carver won't be pinned. Static jams a thumb to his challenger's eye and Kiebiech warns him about it before checking on Carver. Static reaches down into his boot and produces Screwy, hiding him behind his back. DaFoe on the outside cries foul and is about to let Kiebiech know about it. Static rolls out of the ring threatens to stab DaFoe in the eye. Daniel wisely hightails it to higher ground and Static doesn't want to be counted out--he wants to win decisively. Static rolls in and Kiebiech is on to him. He reaches behind the champion and confiscates Screwy. Static is about to protest when Carver floors him with a spinning heel kick to the face. Crash goes with the momentum and climbs to the top. He seeks to end it with the 450 Splash, stylishly, but Static copies Crash's earlier strategy of crashing into the ropes to buckle his challenger. Crash lands on the twig and berries, his face contorted into a grimace of pain. Static grabs him and literally hurls his equally-sized opponent to the canvas, Crash landing in an awkward heap. Static leaps to the top aaaaand.... JACK JONES: MOMENT! OF! CLARITY! Say it loud, say it proud! The Shooting Star connects and Static makes the cover hooking the leg, and getting one...two...does Crash Carver have one more miracle left inside him... THREE. Crash kicks out too late, breaking the hearts of everyone in attendance. FRANK WARBURTON: Here is your winner... and STILL NAPW Heavyweight CHAMPION...Static! DaFoe pulls his charge outside and tries to help him to his feet, offering some encouragement to a dazed Crash Carver. JACK JONES: Back to obscurity for Lil' Jakey Carver and his daddy, Willem DaFoe. BILL HEWSON: Shut up, please. Static won cleanly, but I know he had bad intentions earlier with that damn Screwy! JACK JONES: He just wanted to tighten up some screws on the turnbuckles or something. Who cares? BILL HEWSON: I'm sure Crash Carver and Daniel DaFoe would if Static pulled off another criminal assault. Crash Carver came so close, so damn close. This kid will BE the Heavyweight Champion one day, Jack Jones. Inside the ring, Static is basking in his victory, soaking up the heat from the fans and raising the title high overhead, defiantely calling out anyone who dares to topple him from his hard-earned throne. He flips the bird to the fans, lets young and old alike know they can suck his voodoo, and tells us all The Undisputed Truth. You think it's over, don't you? Well... We got one more.
JACK JONES: ...you're so very lame. BILL HEWSON: Uh-huh. Ladies and gentlemen, we are just moments away from one of the biggest main events in NAPW history. Four months ago, at Sole Survivor, Devastation tossed D! out of the ring win the Sole Survivor match and claim an NAPW title shot. D! and Devastation crossed paths leading to the War Games match at Complete Control, but they have never met in singles competition... JACK JONES: Because D! doesn't deserve a shot at the F*NAPW title, Hewson! BILL HEWSON: And of course, after losing the NAPW Title at Epic to Rex Caliber, Devastation declared himself the F*NAPW Champion. One guess what the "F" stands for. Yet somehow, Devastation has gained the right to have his OWN "F*NAPW" referee, his own "F*NAPW" ring announcer for every one of his matches, carrying around that his "F*NAPW" title match. And frankly, I'm baffled as to why NAPW brass allows it to carry on. JACK JONES: I'm baffled as to why NAPW brass allowed D! to interfere in Devastation's matches for weeks on end. He made a mockery of Pure Honor, gave Dez Carter a win --- a WIN --- over Devastation... it was ludicrous. BILL HEWSON: D! said that Devastation would never have a moment's peace until he accepted the challenge. A lot of folks don't like how D! did that --- interfering in every one of Devastation's matches. Last week, the Mexican Legend El Mentiroso called for peace. He implored D! to stay out of Devastation vs Longshot... JACK JONES: And Devastation accepted D!'s challenge. Do you know why, Bill Hewson? BILL HEWSON: Why, because El Mentiroso asked--- JACK JONES: I'll tell you why! Because El Mentiroso is a man whom Devastation respects. For the sake of a clean match between El Mentiroso and Devastation, the Vicious Phenom accepted D!'s little challenge. BILL HEWSON: And that brings us to RIGHT... now. Frank Warburton is the ring. The air is tense. There is a certain... gravitas about the proceedings. FRANK WARBURTON: This next match is scheduled for one fall and is a singles match! Introducing first, from Edmonton Alberta, he weighs in at two-hundred and ten pounds, standing five-foot ten! He is the Unorthodox Old Schooler... and the REIGNING TEAM Wrestling Champion of Champions! THIS! IS! DEEEEEE! "Riiiight...before...my... EYES!" The crowd goes wild as One Letter! Said REAL LOUD! D! comes sprinting out from the back, all fired up to finally get his hands on the self-proclaimed F*NAPW World Champion, Devastation. D! hits the ring and jumps up in the corner, throwing his arms in the air and then making the bring-it-on gesture towards the curtains. He doesn't have long to wait as- "The roof, the roof, the roof is on fire!" The crowd is on fire - WITH HATE - as the Bloodhound Gang kicks in to introduce Devastation. Frank Warburton is on his way out of the ring out of reflex when he notices that F*NAPW ring announcer Harvey Garcia-Buffer is nowhere to be seen. Warburton steps right back into the middle of the ring and raises the microphone. FRANK WARBURTON: And his opponent, fighting out of Boston, Massachusetts! He weighs in a three-hundred and five pounds and standing six-foot-eight... he is the Vicious Phenom - DEVASTAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATION! JACK JONES: That was terrible! Where is Garcia-Buffer? BILL HEWSON: For that matter, where is Devastation? The music dies down and D! shifts impatiently in the ring, leaning over the ropes and motioning for Devastation to come out. The crowd quiets and looks towards the entrance, unsure of what is happening and then- "The roof, the roof, the roof is on fire!" The music kicks in again and D! again squares himself in the center of the ring - but still, no Devastation to be seen. D! is getting visibly angry now, asking Kiebiech where the hell his opponent is. The head official just shrugs his shoulders and shakes his head, as lost as D!. The music again dies down and now the crowd is murmuring restlessly, all eyes looking towards the entrance. D! begins pacing the ring, eyes locked on the curtain the entire time. JACK JONES: We've seen this before! Do you think Devastation could have been attacked backstage? Who would do such a thing? BILL HEWSON: I know plenty of guys back there wouldn't mind beating the hell out of Devastation, but I'm not sure thatŐs what is going on here! "The roof, the roof, the roof is on fire!" Is the third time the charm? Apparently not as there is still no sign of the F*NAPW World Champion or any of his entourage. The crowd is letting their anger be heard again, now because it doesn't look like Devastation is coming out when. Click. The NAPW's big screen turns on and the anger of the crowd practically takes the roof off when they see the smiling faces of Devastation and Longshot staring out at them. D! leans over the ropes again, pointing at the screen and yelling something that is drowned out by the noise of the crowd. Once things have quieted down a bit, the F*NAPW World Champion speaks. DEVASTATION: Since I'm not sure that any of you morons are capable of observing more than the snot on the end of your fingers, I'll go ahead and tell you what should be obvious - I am not in the rigpig infested berg of Grande Prairie tonight. More boos which quiet after awhile when Devastation continues to speak. DEVASTATION: In fact, I never had any intention of showing up tonight! I'd like to thank D! for not showing his face during my victory over El Mentiroso last week, I really wasn't sure that you'd fall for this as completely as you did. D! is furious. He's calling for a microphone, and as one is handed over to him, Devastation steps aside to let his agent, Longshot, speak. LONGSHOT: You wanted a match, D!? You wanted a match where you have everything to gain - spotlight, fame, the faint hope of a victory over the greatest champion in the game - and all the Hybrid Icon had to gain was you getting your nose out of his business. D!: That sure as hell is over now! You're not going to know a moment's- Longshot just keeps talking right over D! LONGSHOT: I know, I know, after tonight you'll be all ready to start up your little crusade again. And as pointless as the whole thing is, it is beginning to get a little tiresome, like a bug bite that just won't go away. So, I am prepared to make you a deal. You can have a guaranteed match against my client, Devastation - written into the contract that if he fails to show up on time, he will have to leave the NAPW - on one condition. D!: And what's that, peanut? LONGSHOT: The match takes place... at Get The Hell Off Our Lawn! BILL HEWSON: What the hell? D! already is scheduled to fight in a title match against Static at Lawn! This is insane! JACK JONES: You mean brilliant! D! is staring up at the grinning face of Longshot, face flushed with rage. The TEAM Champion of Champions is practically trembling with it. LONGSHOT: That's right, D! You want Devastation so bad? Prove it. You can either take your precious title shot, or your can get your grubby hands on the Vicious Phenom. What is it going to be? The crowd is hushed as D! begins to pace the ring, wrestling with the decision under the eyes of Longshot and Devastation. Finally D! snaps his eyes back up to the big screen and grins manically. D!: What's to going to be, Longshot? How about... BOTH! BILL HEWSON: WHAT? JACK JONES: He can't do that! BILL HEWSON: D! wants to double-book himself against two of the most dangerous men in the NAPW! And one match is for the NAPW Heavyweight Title! On the screen, Longshot is laughing along with Devastation. LONGSHOT: We thought you might say that. And since you are all set in that ring for some fighting tonight, I thought I would do what a good agent does and accommodate you. So allow me to introduce to you one of my newest clients, a man you all know and love, and one of the most skilled wrestlers in the game today. "The Lemondrop Kid" Lloyd Rees! JACK JONES: This is huge! Lloyd Rees finally officially joining up with Devastation and Longshot! BILL HEWSON: D! looks ready to tear apart anybody that comes into the ring, I don't know if going after him is a smart move for Rees. Lloyd Rees comes out from the back and grins at the vocal hatred from the crowd before beginning to advance towards the ring. D! nods and readies himself, itching for a fight. Lloyd Rees stops halfway towards the ring and just shakes his head. D! is motioning for him to keep on coming, but Lloyd just folds his arms and glances back at the big screen. LONGSHOT: Of course, as I said, Mr. Rees is just one of my newest clients. Let me be the first to welcome the rest of the members of the Fortuna Talent Agency family... Longshot pauses for dramatic effect, smiling the whole time. LONGSHOT: Evan Cartwright and the Sexy Adorable Drunks, VIOLENCE INTERNATIONAL! BILL HEWSON: My god! JACK JONES: Yes! Violence International runs out from the back and together with Lloyd Rees slide into the ring. D! meets them head on, firing off lefts and rights that have all four men staggered. D! drops Krusty Kid Paul with a roundhouse right then spins and kicks Evan Cartwright across the side of the head. Tommy Deathrow nails him in the back with a double sledge and D! spins around to begin unloading rights and lefts on him. Lloyd Rees catches a back elbow when he tries to interfere, but then a rising Cartwright dives in and nails D! in the back of the knee with a chopblock. D! staggers and all of Longshot's new clients take the opportunity to pounce, pounding D! down to the mat. D! keeps trying to fight back but the numbers are just too much as Violence International haul him up off the mat. Boot to the gut by Lloyd Rees - always glad to offer a helping foot - and Deathrow sets D! up for the Deathrow Driver! BILL HEWSON: Somebody needs to stop this? JACK JONES: But who? D! alienated practically the entire locker room by not caring about who got hurt in his quest to get to Devastation! This plan is flawless! Longshot is a gen- Apparently not completely flawless as EL MENTIROSO explodes through the curtain and charges towards the ring. Mentiroso slides in and hits Deathrow from behind, freeing D! just before the deadly Deathrow Driver. Mentiroso is a HOUSAFIRE as he spins around laying in closed fists to every face he sees. Mentiroso looks like the advantage of surprise might actually carry him through when- BILL HEWSON: No! (BLEEP) him! STATIC comes from the crowd and into the ring behind El Mentiroso, blasting him across the back of the head! Mentiroso staggers and that is all Static needs to nail him with the FUNCRUSHER! Mentiroso has been killed dead and now all five men are laying in boots to D! and the masked luchadore. Deathrow Driver setup again and BOOM! D! is sent down to the mat. Static raging, roaring, eyes wild and manic. He directs traffic, cursing audibly, and the Sexy Adorable Drunks pick up El Mentiroso... and give him an ugly, ugly Hangover. BILL HEWSON: For the love of God! El Mentiroso came out to help, showing his honor, and this... this display! There's your Heavyweight Champion --- no no, don't do it --- CRUNK. JACK JONES: D! took the title belt square in the face, Lloyd and Evan holding him in place! This is insane! Static storms out of the ring and grabs both the ring microphone and a chair from Warburton, shoving him to the concrete. He heads in the ring and unfolds the chair, placing it above D!'s throat. D! is bleeding from the forehead, writhing slowly in pain on the canvas as Static sits backwards on the chair, looking down at D! with the microphone in one hand, the NAPW Title belt dangling from the other. STATIC: Oh D!, you pretty boy (BLEEP)er, you emo-pissant asshole, how do you like THEM APPLES, huh? Am I an asterik, D!? Am I a transition champion? Take a look, bitch! Take a long, long look! It's as close as a (BLEEP)(BLEEP)(BLEEP) like you is ever going to get again! Suck my vooodoooooooo, yeah. The crowd is just unleashing their disgust with this. Paper, cups, candy, beer bottles are flying in the ring. Evan Cartwright, chewing his gum arrogantly, casually sidesteps a beer bottle and talks trash to the front row. Deathrow is in one corner, Raven-like as Lloyd Rees stomps around the ring, spewing unintelligible Newfese towards the front row. Bill Kryenik, neck halo and all, and Ol' Salty have joined the proceedings, standing in the ring. Kryenik looks about as happy as a guy could be when his neck is fused together... Krusty Kid Paul hits a corner, grabbing his crotch insultingly... Static looks around, takes it in, no doubt grinning evilly beneath his mask. STATIC: But you know, D!, I kinda owe you. (BLEEP), you're living proof of what I've said all along. NAPW holds down talent. They held down that crazy (BLEEP)er Lloyd Rees. They held down the VICIOUS (BLEEP)ing PHENOM Devastation. And they damn sure held down THE STATIC. But look at me now, D! I'm the damn champion! Didn't you ever WONDER how this happened? Didn't you ever WONDER about it all? Well, D! --- all you jackass fans in the crowd --- I've got... a Static Special Surprise for EACH and EVERY ONE OF YOU (BLEEP)ERS! If you will direct your attention to the AISLE, please, I proudly bring to you... the man inside. The Mystery Man. The man who has taken up the plight of all the great talent Commissioner Bobby Winchell has ignored in favor of his "boys" like you D!, and that (BLEEP)head Rex Caliber... He's not Johnny Cash, but he is THE MAN! IN! BLACK! BILL HEWSON: What... it's not possible! How is it... The Man In Black! Who's haunted The Delivery Depot for months --- MONTHS! Is coming down the aisle! JACK JONES: I thought he was just some screwball, messing around with The Delivery Men and Billy Kryenik --- wait a minute, what's that grin on Kryenik's face! He looks mighty damn pleased about this... you think he knows something we don't know? BILL HEWSON: God I don't know, but this is just unbelievable. Lloyd Ree's "Mystery Man." Longshot & Devastation's "Inside Man." The Man in Black. They were all one and the same. But how... HOW does The Man In Black have power over New Alberta Pro! It just doesn't make sense... The Man In Black enters the ring to a round of applause from the talent in the ring. Kid Paul throws a stomp El Mentiroso's way to keep him down, as Static continues to leer sadistically down at D!. The Man In Black looks out over everybody... and then stops. JACK JONES: Hewson, look --- he's taking off his hat! BILL HEWSON: Who is The Man In Black... oh. JACK JONES: MY. BILL HEWSON & JACK JONES: GOD. The Man in Black takes off his hat, and pulls down the black scarf that obscures his face. And we see that the Man in Black, the person who is also Lloyd Rees' "mystery man" and Devastation's inside NAPW source... ...is R. Joseph Winchell. The Third. JACK JONES: WHAT??? BILL HEWSON: IT CAN'T BE! JOSEPH WINCHELL: Oh, how sweet it is! I told you! I told each and every one of you that Joseph Winchell would be making an impact in the NAPW, and how do you like them apples? You see, I've known for a while that my father is incredibly biased. He doesn't give a fair shake to those people who deserve a run in this company. This month, I finally decided that enough was enough and reveal myself for who I am, but I've been playing this subterfuge for a good long while now. Mr. Lloyd Rees! Former Provincial Champion, and a damn good one to boot, was having the feud of his life against a worthy competitor like Evan Cartwright. Then, all of a sudden, he found himself fighting men like Mr. Slick and The Crusher. Krusty Kid Paul and Dextro. Sure, he might have won the TV Title, but after the dizzying heights he was at only a month before? I'm sure it tasted like ashes in his mouth. The crowd is chanting, but many are simply in numb shock. "Ass-hole, ass-hole" breaks out from the crowd... Joseph Winchell sniffs and goes on. JOSEPH WINCHELL: So I did the only thing I could do. I approached Rees, telling him that I could be his ear inside the company. Hey, I lived with my dad, I heard every conference call he made about the company when I was at home! Of course I'd be able to help him out! But Mr. Winchell, you ask! What about Devastation? Well, he was in similar circumstances, and he was offering me a lot of filthy lucre to use my services. You think I was just good with money? Well, hey, I am, but Daddy Dearest wasn't giving me anything huge as a payout for being the fed's losingest loser! "You live in my house," he told me, "so why should I give you as much as the guys who need this paycheck to live?" So Devastation's offer came at a pretty good time, and I was certainly willing to be his source on the inside. Hey, the MaloneMoped needs gas money, right? So we've got the reasons behind why I'm Lloyd Rees' mystery man, and I just told you why I was Devastation's inside mole...What's next? Oh. Yeah. Why am I wearing this funky Man in Black outfit? I mean, the Man in Black's been around longer than sin. And that's just because, I loved the feeling of being hidden, doing those sorts of little tricks on the Delivery Men and Sick Billy Kryenik. Granted, Billy found out who I was after the second time we went out for beer, but that's because you can't drink through a piece of black cloth that well. You see the sheer talent that's in this ring? Look at who we've got here: (points at the screen) First off, former NAPW Champion Devastation! A long run with the title, and say what you want about him, he got things done, and held that title for more then just a little while. Joseph pats Lloyd Rees on the back. Lloyd Rees, former Provincial Champion! One of the TWO greatest that you'll see... (Joseph throws a wink to Evan Cartwright, who grins smugly, the gum-chewing bastard.) Former Television champ and how long did we need a good champion in that division? Wayne Wright? The Crusher? You've GOT to be kidding me! Static! Provincial Champion! Tag champion! Current Heavyweight champ! You are looking at the only Triple Crown winner in the NAPW today! It's about time he got his moment in the sun! One of the TWO greatest Provincial Champions ever seen in NAPW, Evan Cartwright... and SAD! Cartwright, a double champion, and the man with the longest reign in the NAPW! Truly, sir, it is an honour to be in the same ring as you. Krusty Kid Paul, and Tommy Deathrow, well you've got no titles as of now, but hey, it's early yet, right? You three in Violence International are the most sick depraved men in the federation, and I love it! But no, my father keeps you away from the big matches, because you're "too violent." Those days are OVER. BOOOOOOOO. JOSEPH WINCHELL: You can obviously see why I decided to ally myself with these men. Yet, with all their accomplishments, they're STILL being held down by my father! Why is that? Why are the two most pushed men a cross-eyed Southern redneck and the front runner for The Most Emo Boy on Myspace? Because my father can't run a company properly. Which is why I'm proud to announce this. (Joey holds up a manila envelope.) Working for the Trust for the past few months has made me a pretty wealthy guy. And with their backing, and my more-than-humble nest-egg, Joseph Winchell has bought out the majority of stock in New Alberta Pro Wrestling. BILL HEWSON: WHAT? You're KIDDING me, right? JACK JONES: Well, hail to our new owner! JOSEPH WINCHELL: You see, Dad, you're not in control anymore. Now I am. And my first order of business is to name myself the new commissioner of NAPW. Wrestlers in this business are going to get a fair shake when I'm in charge! And as for ... D! and Rex Caliber... Joseph leans down towards D!, spiteful. JOSEPH WINCHELL: Oh, you'll get your title shot still, don't worry "peanut." I hope you enjoy taking on Devastation and Static in the same night, taking on two men who my father kept held down just to keep YOU on top. So have fun, D!... and I'm a fair guy. I know you bring ratings. But the days of preferential treatment for you are OVER... Now... as far as Rex Caliber goes. Winchell's face becomes a twisted, twisted mask of hate. JOSEPH WINCHELL: You're all probably wondering why Sexy Rexy hasn't come out for the save, aren't you? Well, a little earlier on, after that travesty of a decision that saw my man Evan Cartwright screwed by Rex Caliber and John Sharplin, well. I had security remove Rex from the premises. But let's be serious. Rex Caliber, you screwed your partner, Static. You'vebeen on top longer than anybody else. But most importantly, you screwed me. You attacked me. You've beat me up. You've hurt me --- INSULTED me --- EMBARRASSED ME! You, Rex Caliber, are everything that is WRONG with this company. And I will make a promise to all of you in this ring, all of you fans, and especially to you Rex Caliber. You will NEVER. EVER. Get another shot,chance, SNIFF at the NAPW Heavyweight Title Belt. If you so much as TOUCH Static, then you risk being FIRED on the spot. I won't fire you Rex, because there's a line-up of people with plans to beat the hell out of you and enjoy every moment. As of now, Rex Caliber, you are no longer the fugly version of this pretty boy D! here, the blue-collar champion... You're the least popular man in that dressing room. And I'm going to enjoy every minute of it. The fans are starting to file out, but so many stay, throwing ever more and more litter into the ring. JOSEPH WINCHELL: Welcome to the NEW & IMPROVED NEW ALBERTA PRO, built around TRUE TALENT --- these men in the ring right now, the men on the screen... And welcome to a brand new era! Winchell throws the mic down, and then Static's music hits. CRIMES CRIMES CRIMES CRIMES. Evan Cartwright. Tommy Deathrow. Krusty Kid Paul. Lloyd Rees. Static. Devastation. Longshot. Joseph Winchell. BILL HEWSON: Joseph Winchell... you sorry son of a bitch. WE'RE CRIMES, CRIMES, CRIMES, CRIMES, CRIMES. Lights down.
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