GET THE HELL OFF OUR LAWN07/18/2006
JARED WALSH: Hey! What the heck are all you whippershappers doin' on my lawn? Get the heck out of here! Don't make me spray you punk hooligans! "MOVE! And show me what you can do! Walsh jumps up, nearly out of his head, as the show's theme - Thousand Foot Krutch's "Move" - begins to play. He yells a little, and it stops. JARED WALSH: You people and your loud music! Damn internets! I tell ya, back in my day, we couldn't play music on our own! We had to have a big band come into the backyard, and we paid them five dollars! Each person! That was a lot back then! We didn't have your fancy-schmancy MP5 players and I-Balls. But now you kids and your Pokeyman and your loud rap music you grablegurmbleraggetyroggin... "MOVE!" He starts to trail off to gibberish as the theme starts up again. He looks startled, and yells some more, but this time, the show's going on whether he wants it to or not. Cut to the video package. Live From Edmonton ALBERTA Canada New Alberta Pro Wrestling presents...
"MOVE! And show me what you can do! It is downtown Edmonton, a partly cloudy Tuesday evening but it's warm. Churchill Square has been transformed! The NAPW ring is smack dab in the middle of the square, security railings keeping a whole whackload of fans from the ringside! The Epcor Waterfall glistens in the sunlight, an aisle has been made leading to the Interpretive Center doorway... and over a thousand fans are here! The NAPW faithful have turned out by the busload, and lots of curious folk are in the crowd --- why not? It's FREE! Cut to the announce team at ringside, Jack Attack Jones dressed for the summer heat in a light Hawaiian shirt and shorts. Bill Hewson is wearing a white button-down short-sleeve, and boy, he hasn't seen much sun this year. JACK JONES: Nice tan, Casper. BILL HEWSON: Welcome fans on NAPW.ca and City-TV, and here with us in downtown Edmonton, to the Supercard spectacular... that we're calling GET THE HELL OFF OUR LAWN! I'm Bill Hewson alongside Jack Attack Jones, and what a card we have lined up for you tonight! In the D!ouble main event, it will be the face of New Alberta Pro, the one and only D! wrestling TWO straight matches... and they are not going to be easy, Jack Jones. JACK JONES: Well you've got to question the intelligence of D!, accepting two matches of this magnitude in one evening. First he takes on the F*NAPW Champion, the Vicious Phenom Devastation... and then if he survives that, he gets to take on the NAPW Heavyweight Champion. And I can only be talking about The Static. BILL HEWSON: Devastation's vanity belt, his so-called F*NAPW Title will not be "on the line", which isn't really a surprise. Devastation only wants to defend his self-proclaimed championship when the situations favor him completely. Put that aside --- D! has wanted this match for months, and finally, at last, he's got it. If Devastation no-shows this time, it's written in his contract: He will be FIRED from NAPW. But D! is in for a long night, because like you said Jones... after Devastation, win or lose, whatever his condition, D! gets his long-awaited shot at becoming an unprecedented THREE-time NAPW Champion! But to do that, he has to get past STATIC. But right now, we are set for action... let's go to Frank Warburton. FRANK Warburton, the ring announcer, is in the ring. In a full tuxedo. In mid-summer. And he looks completely unfazed. JACK JONES: He's a machine, Bill Hewson! FRANK WABURTON: The first contest of the night is scheduled for one fall and is a tag team match! Introducing first, at a combined weight of five hundred and sixty-five pounds- "The Devil In The Kitchen" hits and the crowd pops big as the Celtic Assassins come out from the back, raising their hands and calling for the crowd to get louder - which they happily do. Jared Walsh gives a grumpy look to the Celtic Assassins, spraying his hose "accidentally" over the nearest rows of fans. The Celtic Assassins give Walsh an odd look before walking down to the ring. FRANK WARBURTON: "The Irish Adonish" Bobby O'Brady! "The Scottish Wrecking Machine" Al Thoes! They are the CELTIC AAAASSAAAAASSIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINS! Thoes and O'Brady hit the ring and go to the corners, mounting the turnbuckles and throwing their hands into the air. The cheers drift high into the air over the Winston Churchill Square as the Assassins switch corners and mount up again to another roaring ovation. The two huge men jump down and pump their arms, as excited for this night as the crowd is. They turn towards the entrance and wait for their opponents. They don't have to wait long as- FRANK WARBURTON: And now, their opponents! "Classy Red" by AkForty hits and the Royal Foundation comes out from the back. It may be the first match for both Prince Darko and Thomas Young in the NAPW, but it looks like their promos have already earned them some ill-will from the crowd here tonight. Their manager, Mr. B., accompanies them with a wide smile - right up until Jared Walsh turns his hose on the newest NAPW tag team! Prince Darko looks ready to spring at Walsh, who picks up a rake and shakes it, yelling for these damn kids to GET THE HELL OFF OUR LAWN! Mr. B and Thomas Young intercept Darko before he can get much further, and point towards the ring where Thoes and O'Brady are laughing. BILL HEWSON: Welcome to the NAPW, Royal Foundation! JACK JONES: You can't treat royalty that way! Somebody get Walsh out of here! FRANK WARBURTON: At a combined weight of four hundred and forty-five pounds, they are Thomas Young and Prince Darko.... THE ROYAL FOOOUUUNNNNDAAAATIOOOON! Young and Darko listen to their names being announced and then out and out sprint down to the ring, sliding under the bottom rope. Thoes and O'Brady are ready for them and the two teams meet in the center of the ring. It looks like Andrews has lost control of this one early as Young and Thoes exchange blows while Darko ducks under a big haymaker from Bobby and answers with several quick jabs of his own. Young finds out that not many men can go toe-to-toe with either of the Assassins as Thoes back him into a corner and begins pounding away. Darko ducks another big shot from O'Brady and tries to send him into the ropes. Reversal by O'Brady and it is Darko hurtling towards the side of the ring. Somehow Prince Darko manages to catch himself on the top rope, but doesn't stay put for long as Bobby O'Brady charges in and delivers a clothesline that sends both men spilling over the top rope. Henry Andrews gratefully calls for the bell to officially start this match, with Thoes and Young as the legal men. Thoes still has the upperhand on Thomas Young as the Scottish Wrecking Machine whips him from corner to corner. Young rebounds hard off the turnbuckles and Thoes scoops him up onto his shoulder for a thunderous POWERSLAM! That one shook the ring, and it looks like Thomas Young may be having second thoughts about this career move. Al Thoes with the quick cover but he only gets two before Young kicks out. Thoes gets back to his feet and crouches down as Young staggers upright and EATS a power clothesline! Thomas Young flat on his back and Thoes makes another quick cover! Again only a two count, this time Young getting his shoulder up off the mat before Andrews can count three. Bobby O'Brady climbs back up to the apron in the Assassin's corner and yells for his partner to let him get some of the action. Thoes gladly obliges, snapping in a headlock on the rising Young and dragging him over to make the tag to O'Brady. Bobby gets into the ring and the Assassins transfer the headlock right over to O'Brady's patented head vice! Young is trying to push Bobby O'Brady off, but to no success. Andrews checks on Young, who is fading fast in the deadly hold. BILL HEWSON: Thomas Young is in some real trouble in the early goings. JACK JONES: We haven't even begin to see what the Royal Foundation is capable of, Hewson! Any second now... now! Ok, that wasn't it. But soon! Andrews takes Young by the wrist and raises his arm for the first time... it never gets a chance to fall as Price Darko hits the ring and blasts O'Brady across the back with a double sledge - and that was a mistake. O'Brady lets Thomas Young fall to the mat and turns to face Darko with blazing eyes. Prince Darko holds up his hands and begs off... and kicks Bobby O'Brady right in the Blarney Stones! Andrews was busy checking on Young and didn't see it - roll-up by Thomas Young! Darko moves back to his corner as Andrews drops and makes the count; One! Two! Kick-out with authority by Bobby O'Brady! Young staggers into the ropes as Bobby begins to get back to his feet, but doesn't stay there long. Thomas Young walks right back over to O'Brady and kicks him smack in the chest as he is getting up. O'Brady winces in pain and Young grabs him by the wrist and throws him into the ropes. Young hits the deck as Bobby runs back, then goes for the leapfrog on the second pass - O'Brady puts on the brakes and catches him! Bobby O'Brady swings Thomas Young up for the bodyslam and Young squirms free and slides down Bobby's back! Young lifts O'Brady for the back suplex then turns him out in the maneuver he calls the Young Cutter! Thomas Young with the cover, but only gets two before it is broken up by Al Thoes. Henry Andrews tries to push Thoes back into the corner, and then is reduced to pleading with the big Scotsman. While this is happening Prince Darko rushes into the ring and plants a rising O'Brady with a running DDT. Young rolls out to the apron and slaps his hands over his head as Prince Darko straddles Bobby O'Brady and begins going to work with the closed fists. Andrews quickly rushes over and warns Darko about the closed fists. Darko stares up at him and holds his hands up - open - then slaps Bobby O'Brady across the face and laughs. BILL HEWSON: Despicable. JACK JONES: More like deBRILLIANTcable. BILL HEWSON: Not a word, Jack Attack. JACK JONES: So's your mom. Darko slaps Bobby across the face again and that? A mistake. O'Brady curls his fingers into a fist and pistons it straight up into Prince Darko's smirking face. Andrews warns O'Brady about the closed fist but he doesn't seem to hear the junior official as he surges to his feet and pounds Prince Darko back into the corner. Corner to corner goes the speeding bullet formerly known as Prince Darko, hitting the turnbuckles hard enough to shake the ring. Darko's feet lift clear off the mat as he catches impact all on his upper back and barely have time to touch down before getting thrown up again by a monster clothesline from O'Brady. Bobby grabs Darko by the back of the head and pounds hs face into the turnbuckle as the crowd counts along! One! Two! Three! Four! Five! Six! Seven! Eight! Nine! O'Brady spins Darko in a full 360 before slamming his face into the top turnbuckle. TEN! Prince Darko takes one wavering step backwards and then collapses to the mat. The crowd roars as O'Brady turns and points to Al Thoes in the corner! O'Brady stomps over and raises his hand to make the ta-NO! Thomas Young dodges the grasping hands of Henry Andrews as he charges across the ring and sends Thoes flying from the apron with a running forearm! O'Brady looks shocked as his partner spills to the outside, and Young takes advantage by spinning around and clocking Bobby with a second forearm! Andrews is heading over to restore order when Mr. B jumps up onto the apron - and Henry Andrews can't have that kind of behavior! It looks like Bobby O'Brady can take care of himself as he answers another forearm from young with a high knee to the stomach. O'Brady has Thomas Young in a standing headscissors, prelude to the powerbomb, when Prince Darko again hits him from behind! O'Brady spins around and this time it is Thomas Young who slings a foot right up into the fork in the road. Bobby's - poor Bobby - eyes cross and he falls to his knees. Darko drapes an arm over his shoulder and stands O'Brady up for an STO as Young hits the ropes behind him. Thomas Young charges in and gets his foot all the way up over Darko's shoulder... BIG BOOT! STO! Mr. B finally gets down from the apron under the threat of ejection and Henry Andrews turns around just in time to see Prince Darko making the pin as Thomas Young exits the ring; One! TWO! THREE! JACK JONES: Yes! He did it! SHOULDER UP! BILL HEWSON: Yes! He did it! Which one happened first? JACK JONES: The Royal Foundation pick up their first ever victory here- BILL HEWSON: In what may be the closest escape I have ever- JACK JONES: Escape? BILL HEWSON: Victory? BOTH: You're crazy! Darko gets to his feet and raises both arms in celebration as Henry Andrews gets back up as well. The crowd is silent as Prince Darko jumps up and down and turns around... And comes face to face with the two upraised fingers on Henry Andrew's hand! Darko looks like he canŐt believe what he is seeing! He begins screaming at Henry Andrews, gesturing madly that it must have been a three count, but Henry Andrews - to his credit - remains adamant and just shows two fingers again. Prince Darko looks ready to throw a fit and then realizes - too late - that it means that the match isn't over and that means... BILL HEWSON: Yes! That means! JACK JONES: Noooo! HOT TAG! O'Brady reaches out and slaps Thoes on the hand just as Prince Darko shoves Andrews out of the way to dive for the corner. Al Thoes is in the ring and the Scottish Wrecking Machine does. Not. Look. Happy! Prince Darko begins to slowly back away but he cannot avoid the POWER CLOTHESLINE! Darko does a full flip in the air from the force behind that big arm. He regret it later, but Thomas Young hits the ring and charges at Thoes - and eats a spinning powerslam! Breakfast! Lunch! Dinner! A spinning powerslam is part of any balanced diet! An injured Young rolls out of the ring and that leaves just Al Thoes and Prince Darko. Darko staggers to his feet and Al Thoes boots him hard in the stomach. Thoes lifts Darko for the powerbomb! Prince Darko fights back wildly! Darko drives lefts and rights into the sides of Al's head. Prince Darko claps Al Thoes on the ears, and Thoes staggers but keeps Prince Darko up. Prince Darko reaches down and thumbs Al Thoes in the eye, but still Thoes refuses to fall. Prince Darko laces his fingers together and raises both hands high over his head brings them crashing down on the head of Al Thoes. And finally Al Thoes falls... FORWARD! Thoes delivers the powerbomb and a forehead to the groin of Prince Darko! Darko flops on the mat like a fish out of water as Al Thoes slowly pushes himself back up to his feet. Thoes begins to walk to his corner, using the ropes for support, when Mr. B wraps both arms around his ankle! Thoes tries to shake Mr. B off, but the man is persistent and will not let go. Henry Andrews runs over and warns the manager that he is going to be ejected or get his team disqualified as Thoes continues trying to kick the man off. Thomas Young rolls into the ring and drags Prince Darko back over to their corner. BILL HEWSON: When will this end? JACK JONES: I have a feeling very soon, Hewson! BILL HEWSON: I meant the cheating, Jack Attack! JACK JONES: All I see is two ring generals putting their strategy to work. Perfectly, I might add. Mr. B finally lets go and Andrews turns around in time to see Young lean over and slap Prince Darko on the shoulder to tag himself in. Thoes is still shouting down at Mr. B when Young hits him with a clothesline across the back of the neck. Thomas Young sends Al Thoes into the ropes and bends down as he's coming back... he gets the big man up for a flapjack! Young stumbles back three quick steps under the weight of Al Thoes before falling backwards - and Al Thoes reaches out his hand to tag Bobby O'Brady on the way down! Thomas Young to his feet and this time it is the Royal Foundation member that is surprised as O'Brady drives the point of his boot straight into Young's gut. Pumphandle lock in place and O'Brady lifts Young up for the Tam O'Shanterslam! First corner! Second corner! Third corner! Prince Darko staggers back into the ring and gets SQUASHED as O'Brady runs across the ring and slams and upside-down Thomas Young into his partner at full speed before spinning around and delivering the crushing final slam! O'Brady makes the cover! One! TWO! THREE! Henry Andrews calls for the bell! FRANK WARBURTON: The winners of this match, via pinfall.... THE CELTIC AAAASSAAAASSIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINS! The good Celtic stomper kicks back on, and the crowd is roaring their approval as the Celts take their feet! The Royal Foundation is in the aisle, Mr. B and Prince Darko each with an arm around a half-conscious Thomas Young. BILL HEWSON: A victory for the Celtic Assassins, and what a way to kick off Get The Hell Off Our Lawn, eh Jack Attack? JACK JONES: It was a good match, but the Royal Foundation got robbed! BILL HEWSON: How do you figure? JACK JONES: Well, *I* got robbed, I put a hundred bucks down on the losing team! BILL HEWSON: ... Jack Jones, everyone. Let's go to Josh Reynolds backstage. The scene cuts in to NAPW interviewer Josh Reynolds who is standing by in the backstage area. Behind him is a set based on the "Get The Hell Off Our Lawn" theme of the show. Ę JOSH REYNOLDS: Hello there NAPW fans, I'm backstage right now with a very special guest. I'm talking about one of the recent acquisitions of NAPW, the man who knows that unless there's beer, blood, and barbed wire, then it wasn't really a fight, the masked man... Promo walks onto the scene and stares down at Reynolds for a moment before speaking. PROMO: Why don't you shut that trap of yours for a minute and listen. JOSH REYNOLDS: Promo, what are your thoughts on NAPW now that... PROMO: (cutting Reynolds off) You want my thoughts? You want to know what I think of the glorious land of NAPW now that I've got a few matches under my belt? I'll tell you what I think about it. JOSH REYNOLDS: ...Well? PROMO: I think it's just like any other place. There's big fish in the small pond. There's little fish in the big pond. And somewhere along the line, it's all gotten smashed together with a dose of internet exposure that's made it all explode like a stick of dynamite. I mean, you've got the big fish here, and I'm not talking about Static. I'm talking about D!. The man who walks around with that Champion of Champions belt. He's a big fish in the little pond. He took the chance of a lifetime, and he climbed into the ring with the greatest stars this sport knows and he hit the ball out of the park. If NAPW doesn't latch onto him long term, then that's their mistake. JOSH REYNOLDS: You brought up Static, the current NAPW World Champion... PROMO: Current? Are you sure, what time of day is it? I mean seriously, that belt changes hands more often than Dextro changes underwear. I guess it's a sign of how good the competition is here in NAPW though. JOSH REYNOLDS: Is that a knock at Static? PROMO: No, that's a knock at everyone in general. You see, Ravager found out what I'm all about. I'm not about winning or losing. I'm not about listening to the ring bell to tell me when the match is over. When I can't get up and get to you for one last shot, that's when I call it quits. I just hope that I gave him one hell of a warm-up for his match against Rex Caliber tonight. JOSH REYNOLDS: A warm-up? Like you were preparing him? PROMO: Consider it what you will. I'm not here to be on Rex Caliber's side. I'm not here to be on Ravager's side. I'm here to help make NAPW be a little bit better than they were before I came along. If that means I've got to bust Caliber over the head with a chair, so be it. If it means I've got to take Ravager and piledrive him onto the hood of a car, then so be it. JOSH REYNOLDS: Okay, but with the recent power change here in NAPW, is it safe to say that Winchell has contacted you? Surely a man of your stature would be a great advantage to him. PROMO: Hasn't contacted me. Doesn't matter if he does or doesn't because I'll tell him right now. And here, let me raise this up so he understands me clearly. (Promo raises his mask up over his mouth.) I am my own man, Winchell. If you send your boys after me or after my opponent, then I'm telling you now that they are fair game. They will be treated like sheep being led to the slaughterhouse. I'm not here in NAPW to play your games. You do what you want, and as long as I'm still getting paid, then I'm happy. JOSH REYNOLDS: There you have it folks, NAPW's newest superstar says that he stands alone here in NAPW. Now, let's get back to the action. Cut to a video package detailing the events leading up to the next match. Lloyd Rees attacks Stein from behind on TNF! The champion vs champion match is signed! KETCHUP BATH over Lloyd on Action... leads to Lloyd losing the TV Belt! Provincial Title shot ends in a DQ! Lloyd & Salty 'net' Stein and toss him in a dumpster! Delivery Men save Stein! Stein throws out a stipulation for round TWO... Once again, the bending of the knees, and the clapping of the feets of "Fighting 59" by Henry Hibbs brings "the Lemondrop Kid" Lloyd Rees to ringside, accompanied by Ol' Salty and their new business partner, a hobbling Longshot. Jared Walsh shakes his fist at the "young whippersnappers". Longshot gives a sniff of disdain, and Walsh threatens to turn the hose on him... Longshot puts some spring in his cane-assisted step. He won't risk his five thousand dollar suit to getting soaked! Lloyd Rees is wearing brand-spankin'-new tights to the ring that show off the "FREE NFLD" slogan extra-well, while Ol' Salty looks as unemployed as ever. Rees' expression is quite focused, with a hint of fear in there. He reacts with fear to the large, clear coffin that has been placed in front of the ring, at the end of the ramp, which has been filled to the brim with ketchup. LLOYD REES: I gotta do dis, m'byes! BILL HEWSON: And what a way to start this show off, the Provincial Championship on the line! Due to Lloyd Rees' vicious attack at the end of their Provincial Title match last week, Stein decided that in order for him to grant a re-match, it needed to be done HIS way. As a result, we have the... Ketchup Casket Match. Care to guide us through this one, old pro? JACK JONES: I'll... try. The object of the regular Casket Match is to beat your opponent into submission to a point where you can place him inside of a casket and close the door all the way. A casket filled with ketchup... that ups the ante and puts this contest in Stein's favor. I guess. FRANK WARBURTON: The following contest, is a KETCHUP CASKET MATCH, and it is for the PROVINCIAL CHAMPIONSHIP! The object of this match is to place your opponent in the ketchup-filled casket, and shut the door, all the way. Now in the ring, he is accompanied by OL' SALTY and LONGSHOT, please welcome the CHALLENGER! Weighing in at TWO-HUNDRED, FORTY-SEVEN pounds, he is wearing WHITE TIGHTS with BLACK TRIM, and he hails from BELL ISLAND, NEWFOUNDLAND... THE LEMONDROP KID, LLOYD! REEEEEES! BILL HEWSON: I'd say that the match already was in Stein's favor, look at Lloyd Rees trying to keep that determined expression on his face! He looks like a nervous girl at a school pageant! JACK JONES: Ha! Hey, that's good, you're learning phrases that I can finally dig! Seriously though, if Lloyd can use that hypnosis he received earlier this week to his advantage, his size advantage should pay off in spades as well... but Rees looks pretty nervous... In the ring, Lloyd Rees has been testing out the ropes, staring nervously at the ramp, getting used to the idea of facing Stein and smothering him in ketchup. Longshot and Ol' Salty chat with referee Morgan Smythe, trying to tip the scales over to Rees' favor, but Smythe has none of it. Before long, "SCIENCE!" drowns out any argument they may have, and the crowd goes buck wild for the Delivery Men. #1 and #2 have accompanied #100 to the ring tonight, and are doing right by their comrade by pointing to his Provincial Title wrapped around his slight waist, building the crowd up strongly in his favor. The crowd goes, appropriately, TOMATO for Stein. FRANK WARBURTON: Now, making his way to the ring, he is accom--- BILL HEWSON: Stein was NOT pleased with the way that his match finished last week, and is ready to go! Damn the torpedoes, he's all fists of rage tonight! Well, as "fists of rage" as Stein can get, I suppose. Delivery Man #100 slides into the ring with all the speed and grace of a manatee, and rises with the quickness of DHL. However, when Rees grudgingly leaves his corner to face #100, he's greeted with a powerful right hand that knocks down the "Lemondrop Kid" in his tracks. While Ol' Salty, Longshot, and the Delivery Men all exchange taunts at ringside, Rees gets right back up and is knocked right back down with another right hand. With Rees down, Stein takes a moment from the chaos and the crowd's fervor to delicately take off his belt and politely hand it to Morgan Smythe. The bell finally rings, but it's bad news for Stein. Nice guys finish last, proven when Rees dropkicks Stein into the corner from behind. Rees: "I gotta do it, Ol' Salty! Conq'rin' my fears!" Big words from someone who reacts somewhat hesitantly when DELIVERING rapid-fire knee lifts to Stein's upper abdomen and HEAD. Rees: "Revenge!" With a head full of fire, Lloyd Rees takes Stein out of the corner and lifts him up, dropping him hard with the East End Drop in the middle of the ring. Rees goes to pick up Stein again to go to work, but once he gets a full glimpse of the Delivery Man in his crisp, blue jumpsuit, his momentum escapes him for a second and he takes a pause, much to his corner's dismay. BILL HEWSON: It's looking like that big-money hypnotist that Longshot employed didn't quite get through to Lloyd Rees! Sure enough, a camera pan to Longshot shows him about ready to call up Dr. "Dollar" Bill and have him run out of town, if it weren't for the fact that Stein just took over the match again. He's capitalized on Rees' hesitation, reaching up from the ground with a ferocious Tongan Death Grip, that has Rees looking as terrified as he is pained. Hell, YOU imagine Edward Scissorhands-turned UPS guy-grabbing you by the throat! Pretty scary. Rees looks about in the middle of a panic attack, bouncing all over the ring, trying to escape Stein's grasp. He throws a half-hearted right, followed up with a left that both connect, but don't even faze the Provincial Champion. Rees manages a kick to the sternum from the upright position that they're both in that gives Stein pause, but doesn't manage to break the hold. Stein finally forces Rees into a corner, where he gives him a horrifying stare that has Rees about ready to wet himself, much to the crowd's delight. He might also pass out, whichever comes first. Actually, neither. Longshot, in all of his wrestling expertise, makes a move for Rees, that draws the Delivery Men into the ring. Morgan Smythe, wanting desperately to keep this from becoming a full-scale brawl (with ketchup!) moves quickly to block the D-Men from the ring. This allows Ol' Salty to swoop in and lift downwards the top rope, giving Rees the chance to fall to the outside with Stein, breaking the hold. BILL HEWSON: This is supposed to be a one-on-one contest, but there's Ol' Salty making his presence felt. JACK JONES: Did you notice that Stein has the tag team champions with him? BILL HEWSON: Obviously they're out here to prevent a repeat of last week, when Lloyd Rees & Salty literally trapped Stein in a net and dumped him in the trash! They're out here to prevent exactly that kind of outside interference. JACK JONES: Doing a great job, too. Give those men a raise! Say... if Joseph Winchell, our new commissioner, was The Man In Black... he has some connection with The Delivery Depot... BILL HEWSON: And the flask! Right in Stein's head! The momentum swings to Lloyd Rees... The flask-shot draws the wrath of the crowd but enables Rees to get his wind and his mindframe back. Ol' Salty tries to convince Rees that the terrifying visage that he just endured was nothing, that he needs to take care of business. Rees seems to get his courage back and obliges Ol' Salty delivering sharp kicks to #100's ribs. As Stein rises, Rees takes the upper hand and whips him across the outside area, in front of the broadcast table, slamming him into the barricade that seperates the wrestlers from the rowdy fans. Stein rises shortly thereafter, no-selling it but favoring his back slightly. After some more cajoling from Ol' Salty, and Longshot playing footsy with the D-Men, Rees appears to get PISSED and climbs up on the ring apron. He barrels in Stein's direction with a full head of steam and flies off---flipping---standing senton splash onto Stein! As the crowd roars their approval, Rees climbs off of Stein for a breather. JACK JONES: If Rees can continue to channel that fear he's feeling into RAGE and aim it right for Stein, he should be in a good way in this match! BILL HEWSON: Oddly enough, Stein's the first man up. That senton splash appears to have taken a lot of Lloyd Rees---physically, mentally, and emotionally. JACK JONES: He needs to make sure that he doesn't wear himself out, then... Stein takes full advantage of Rees' weakened state and clubs him in the back of the neck with a forearm, hurting him a lot more than it would appear. 'Tis the power of Stein, ladies and gentlemen. After a few more clubs to the back and neck, Stein appears ready to power up for another move, lifting up the much-larger Rees and SLAMMING him down on the barricade---face-first gorilla press slam downs Rees! Stein now, clubbing his neck with a purpose, he's got Rees back up again, on the outside--short-arm clothesline fells the challenger once more. Rees is picked up again, and it may be his shot nerves but he's looking like a dead man walking---and Stein sees the casket. Inside... smothered with ketchup. Stein grabs Rees again by the throat---"Look into my eyes, son"---CHOKE TOSS with authority lands the "Lemondrop Kid" near the casket! Stein shoots Delivery Man #1 a glance, and quickly, the casket's lid is taken off, earning the wrath of Longshot and Ol' Salty. As they make their protests heard to Morgan Smythe, Stein looks to finish the match off, lifting Rees easily into powerslam position. Stein backs up--'running' powerslam? Full speed ahead, one "Lemondrop Kid" smothered in ketchup coming up NO! Rees escapes, sending Stein flying into Delivery Man #1! And while that's all the cue that Ol' Salty and Longshot needed, getting themselves involved now, they wouldn't have to if they didn't want to---Lloyd Rees is conq'rin' his fear! BILL HEWSON: Lloyd Rees is a HUZZAFAR! JACK JONES: He's knocking out anything that's ever said the WORDS "same-day shipping!" If you want beef---bring the ruckus! "The Lemondrop Kid" ain't nuttin' ta' (BLEEP) with! Lloyd Rees CLOTHESLINE to #1, clothesline to #2, clothesline to numero #100. Just as quickly as Rees channels his anger back to #100 and away from the other two, hitting a DDT! on the outside, Longshot and Ol' Salty get in on the business, Longshot attempting to distract the Delivery Men away from Ol' Salty, who just tossed Lloyd Rees a steel chair. The D-Men give Ol' Salty a look, a pause---then realize that hey, Longshot just got a little too close for him comfort, daddy. And he's been giving them HELL lately. As quickly as Longshot realizes that his plan to distract the D-Men has backfired, that he's lured them just a bit too close, they're on him like bees on a DHL truck---setting him up for a Delivery Drop on the outside! NO! Lloyd Rees levels #1 with a chair to the back! #2 turns around---gets it in the forehead! JACK JONES: Brilliant tactic from Longshot! He lured the Delivery Men just--close--enough so that they'd have no idea that Lloyd Rees was brandishing a chair--he's found his RAGE again! Lloyd Rees---"Nothin' t'fear, m'bye!"---SLAMS Stein in the forehead with the steel chair as he's rising from the Wabana Buster! STABS him with the chair as he's laying on the ground! Picks him up in a hurry--"Revenge, Ol' Salty! M'I'right?!"--DDT FROM THE GREEN on that lying steel chair! BILL HEWSON: I think Lloyd Rees might be cured of his fear of delivery men! JACK JONES: Either that, or he's unleashed a new psychological problem to his mindstate--total psychosis towards delivery men! Lloyd Rees--still PISSED. DEFIANT. Takes the already-down door of the casket and tosses it away from him, lifts up the much-smaller Stein, uses Stein's own gorilla press manuever to drop him down into the red sea! And with Stein now smothered in ketchup, we have a new Provincial Champ! FRANK WARBURTON: Ladies and gentlemen... your winner, and NEEEEW NAPW PROVINCIAL CHAMPION! "THE LEMONDROP KID!" LLOYD REEEEES! As Longshot and Ol' Salty hurry Rees away from the ring---who wants to see three pissed off delivery men, one covered in ketchup?---the camera focuses in on the eyes of the "Lemondrop Kid": defiant, victorious... psychopathic? The crowd boos, but the decision is rendered. The scene quickly shifts from chaos to backstage, where Josh Reynolds stands between the new Commissioner of NAPW, R. Joseph Winchell, and the NAPW Champion, Static, who looks about ready to rush to the ring at that very second to begin his match. JOSH REYNOLDS: The first of our title matches is over, and the title has changed hands. I'm here with the man who will defend his Heavyweight Championship in the main event tonight, and the new commissioner of the NAPW. Of course I'm talking about Static and Joseph Winchell. Static, I have to ask, what's going through your mind right now, as you're waiti-- STATIC: What's going through my mind right now, Josh, what's running through my mind at mach 3? How about all those many months, as "popular NAPW veteran," having to look up at the names in lights and see a pretty-boy, emo bitch rookie? How about that very same pretty-boy, emo bitch rookie thinking that he's better than the entire damn roster put together? How about, Josh... how about this belt? This beautiful NAPW Championship belt... how much it means to me... what it took to win... and how I'm never gonna let this belt go? Yeah, that's what I'm thinking about. JOSH REYNOLDS: Mr. Winchell, I have to ask, with all due respect, what brings you here? JOSEPH WINCHELL: Joshua, my father saw NAPW as nothing more than a financial investment. He wasn't interested in giving deserving superstars like Static, Lloyd Rees, and Devastation, spots in the main event, no, he was only concerned with the bottom line. I, on the other hand, am an active wrestling fan. I choose to be backstage, to be ringside, amongst my roster full of superstars! To see a hardworking champion like Static, defend his belt! STATIC: Yeah! JOSEPH WINCHELL: But Static... concerning yesterday, the whole spirit of gift-giving caught up to me. I know I didn't have anything for you yesterday... I hope that this makes up for it. Joseph opens up a black duffel bag at his feet and pulls out the OLD NAPW Championship belt. JOSEPH WINCHELL: Also unlike my father, Joshua, I have a respect for the past, and balls enough to stand up to now dearly-departed Predator and demand NAPW property back. Static, you don't have to accept this. I know you love your title belt. This is simply a show of appreciation, for all of your hard work in NAPW thus far. I hope you enjoy it. STATIC: Mr. Winchell... I am absolutely flattered by this show of generosity. And standing up to Predator, unlike your coward father... I know how bad he smells! That takes guts! It would be my honor to carry BOTH title belts to ringside tonight. My current one to stand for what hard work will win you... and the old one, to stand for the new era of NAPW. JOSH REYNOLDS: NAPW, firmly entrenched in a new era? We'll find out later tonight, the weight that those words hold. Back to you at ringside, Bill and Jack. Pan back to ringside, where a seething Jack Jones is being calmed by Bill Hewson. BILL HEWSON: What right does Static have to call Bobby Winchell a coward? Static is the man who went after his own tag-team partner with a screwdriver! Static wouldn't know honor if it hit him with a piledriver through a table---which, by the way, I'm hoping that D! does tonight! JACK JONES: Where's your journalistic integrity? Honestly, cheering a scumbag like D! on! You...you hypocrite! BILL HEWSON: Jones...? Pot, kettle, black. The NAPW Champion is ready for D!, and while I don't like him, I do appreciate that the ORIGINAL NAPW title belt has been restored. Fans will remember that it was Chris Casino who brought in the "Americanized" version of the belt. D! kept that American title belt after winning it from Chris Casino to prove a point, and it was the now-departed Predator who kept the original belt after finding it in the locker room. In some ways, tonight is full circle. D! is once more challenging for the belt he carried with pride some eight months ago, and he will challenge for the original and second versions of that strap. JACK JONES: Yeah, yeah, but I think we better get to our next match, Hewson. These fans are getting impatient. Impatient and inebrieated. I guess they have to celebrate something, since all the good hockey players are LEAVING TOWN. BILL HEWSON: Do you want to get LYNCHED? Crazy man! Let's take a look at what led to our next match. The challenge from Krusty Kid Paul. Sexy Adorable Drunks... vs Team Man... vs Dream Come True. SAD on lawn chairs! Team Man beating up DCT. DCT using their speed! Ainsley Lake pins Thor for the win... and then Deathrow attacks. SAD beat the crap out of Walsh, and then Deathrow... gives her the KISS. Ainsley Lake is pissed off! Tommy Deathrow is dangerously in love! The loser must wear a dress! FRANK WARBURTON: The following contest is SUPERSTAR RULES, which means no disqualification, no count out. The loser of the match must wear a DRESS! Alice Chains starts up and the Square is rocking. Tommy Deathrow saunters out very smugly and has some words with Old Man Walsh. Can't stand the HEAT? Walsh just squirted Tommy with his hose! Security steps between the two, and Tommy walks toward the ring as the fans boo him like crazy. JACK JONES: Jared Walsh is a complete, utter, jackass! He's lucky Deathrow didn't give him the TNT right there! BILL HEWSON: Oh no, not the hose! Give me a break, Jones, Jared Walsh is just having some fun. JACK JONES: Making a nuisance of himself is what he's doing... FRANK WARBURTON: Introducing first, the absolute Sexiest Man on Earth, weighing in at a Hot and Steamy Two hundred fifty-three pounds! From St. Paul Minnesota, he is... THE SUPERSTAR TOMMMMMMMY DEATHRRROWWW! Kiss Me Deadly begins to stir the fans as Ainsley Lake comes out. She looks over to the man who is normally her tag team partner sitting in his chair, Jared Walsh, and shakes her head. Walsh yells something about "putting some clothes on, you young jezebel!" BILL HEWSON: ...You think she knows him? JACK JONES: YES! YES SHE KNOWS HIM! HELLO! You need to just stop all of that stuff. FRANK WARBURTON: His opponent is from Wantagh, New York and she weighs in at One hundred and Sixty pounds. One half of Dream Come True... she is! AINSSSSLEY LAAAAAKE! BILL HEWSON: This match is full of hate and the dress stipulation just completes it. You might be wondering, why would a woman have a problem wearing a dress? Well, Ainsley Lake is not a typical lady. In fact, I would suggest wearing a dress would be more painful for HER than it would be for the "Superstar." JACK JONES: Stop all that stuff! You're stirring the pot, insinuating that Deathrow enjoys wearing ladies clothes. Sure, he'd probably fill that dress out better than Lake there, but that's not the point! The point is --- welll --- I don't even know WHAT the point is! The match begins when John Sharplin calls for the bell. Both wrestlers come to the middle of the ring. Lake doesn't look scared at all, and Tommy looks like he will enjoy every minute of this. Tommy mouths something to the effect of "You want me don't you" and gets his teeth loosened from one big right hand. Tommy loses it and grabs Ainsley and short arm clotheslines her. He gets down on one knee and places Lake over the other knee. He spits on his hand and slaps her butt, once, twice and HE GETS ROLLED UP! ONE...TW- Kick out. BILL HEWSON: She contorted her body and reaches through his legs from the side and almost beat him. JACK JONES: She was just trying to do a reach around. Could she possibly just admit she's hot for Tommy? BILL HEWSON: Maybe. But Deathrow can't afford to look at the size and gender of Ainsley Lake, she's proven herself to be equal to the men time and again in other promotions. Tonight she's looking to make her first big statement in New Alberta Pro. She is up quickly and nails him in the head with a drop kick, as Tommy was trying to get up. Tommy is dazed and Lake allows him time to recover. HURRICANRANA!!! NO- POWER BOMB. Tommy goes for the non chalante cover and gets a two count. Tommy gets on top of her and begins smacking her. He tries to get up but is pulled back down, crotch first on her knee. He is staggering around and she does a leg trip. Tommy is down on his stomach, Ainsley is up and a standing moonsault nails Tommy. She is working on his back and places a foot on his back. She then grabs both arms and pulls back. Tommy is screaming in pain and Lake wrenches back. Sharplin is asking Tommy if he quits. His response, "NOT TO THAT BITCH." With that said an enraged Lake lets him go and leg drops the back of the Superstars head. She then hits a rolling thunder and further injures Deathrow's back. JACK JONES: Dutch Flanagan will not be happy seeing her doing his "Roll in the Mud." BILL HEWSON: Tommy's back is being banged up badly. And if Lake can keep Tommy down, keep him from using his size and strength advantage, she has all the chance in the world Tommy tries getting up --- Ainsley comes up from behind! LUNGBLOWER! She nails it, but is now holding her left knee... BILL HEWSON: What a move, those knees dug into his back. They're both down though and Ainsley looks hurt too. Tommy rolls to the outside and is looking for a weapon. Ainsley sees him and she tries to get up. She runs toward the ropes and jumps through them and MISSES THE DIVE! Splat on the floor. Tommy saw her as she took too long setting it up. Tommy is holding his back but sees the opportunity. Sharplin tells him to get it in the ring. Lake gets rolled in, she's laying face down. Those familiar with Alex Shelley, raise your hand. Tommy doesn't stop... he kneels down over Ainsley's head, squeezing it between his legs and starts humping up and down, smashing her forehead into the canvas! Ainsley is getting Total Nonstop Tommy! BILL HEWSON: That's...that's degrading! What a sick man Tommy Deathrow is! JACK JONES: Degrading, and BRUTAL. He really did a number on Lake there, Hewson. Give credit where credit is due! Tommy finally lets go as the crowd is disgusted with his actions. An "Ainsley" chant starts up. Tommy is jawing with the fans and then starts looking under the ring. He finds a table and puts it in the ring. Ainsley pulls her self together and tries to get into the ring. BASEBALL SLIDE!!! Ainsley is knocked into the guard rail. She holds her back and attempts to get in the ring again. Tommy again with a baseball slide...But Lake suckered him in. She grabs the feet and pulls him out of the ring and he hits hard on the outside. Ainsley crawls up on to the ring apron, she asks for a chair...A fan throws it to her! ARABIAN FACEBUSTER! Ainsley hurt herself in the process but took Tommy out! BILL HEWSON: That was awesome...HEY WAIT A MINUTE!! Krusty Kid Paul is coming out here. JACK JONES: Hey, Paul, look beside you! It's not a regular old man, it's --- BILL HEWSON: JARED WALSH! Is telling the Krusty One to back the hell off! KKP giving him the stink-eye... they're going at it! KKP and Jared Walsh are brawling near the entrance way --- Walsh's got the hose! JACK JONES: Not the hose! Jared SOAKS KKP to the bone, but that doesn't stop the PAUL. KKP tackles him, the hose spraying wildly, both men sopping wet. Walsh and Paul continue to exchange punches, going into the makeshift backstage area. Back to the match. Ainsley is putting Tommy back in the ring. She goes for the cover. ONE...TW- Shoulder up. Ainsley can't put him away. She goes to the top rope. Tommy gets up and HIGHER SIDE OF LOW!! The cover: ONE...TWO...THREE! NO! He kicked out. MY GOD HE KICKED OUT! JACK JONES: Tommy Deathrow cannot be stopped, Bill Hewson! BILL HEWSON: That was her best move... and nowAinsley looks like a soldier with out any more bullets. What else can she do to put Tommy Deathrow away? Ainsley stares at Tommy like she is blank. She goes back up top. Tommy is getting up. Ainsley will try it one more... No she won't Tommy has dropped into the ropes. Ainsley is crotched on the top turnbuckle. Tommy moves the table over to that corner. He gets her up... FALCON ARROW! No hold on- Ainsley wiggles free. She is standing on the table! She pulls the back of Tommy's head toward her. SHE JUMPS OVER HIM AND IS ON THE TOP ROPE - Tommy turns around and sees no one - He turns back around and HIGHER SIDE OF LOW THROUGH THE TABLE! THE COVER ONE...TWO...THREE! Lake wins! FRANK WARBURTON: The winner of the match AINSSSLLEY LAKKKKKKKE! BILL HEWSON: What agility and athleticism.That was off the page! Ainsley Lake has scored the upset on Thomas Deathrow! JACK JONES: Now Tommy must join the ranks of FDR, Liberace and Dennis Rodman... BILL HEWSON: Tommy Deathrow WILL wear a dress next week on Tuesday Night Fights... your winner, Ainsley Lake. Lake rolls out of the ring and goes up the entrance way, holding the back of her head. The crowd is cheering, some idiots making catcalls, but overall the rowdy bunch is quite happy. Deathrow is sitting up in the pieces of the table, eyes wide. He curses audibly. BILL HEWSON: And there is a man clearly unhappy with this turn of events... JACK JONES: Ainsley Lake better run! BILL HEWSON: Will you stop? Ladies and gentlemen, our next match is going to be something else entirely. Two men who have faced off once before, but never in singles competition. Months ago at NAPW's Sole Survivor, it was REX CALIBER forcing Minstrel to submit in a triple-threat match to win the Heavyweight Title... a title held by Ravager going into that title match. Of course, Devastation would wreak havoc on the title scene for the next two months, preventing Ravager from getting a rematch with Rex Caliber. JACK JONES: And that was BS, Bill Hewson. Ravager was never pinned for that belt! BILL HEWSON: He never was, but that doesn't justify Ravager's actions recently. He's attacked Rex Caliber numerous times. Ravager, Mr. "Business is Business", has made this personal. He's out to injure Rex Caliber. He wants to take the man's pride, and perhaps drive him out of NAPW forever. But that hatred is not one-sided... not in the slightest. Let's hear from "THE NEXUS ONE!" Cut backstage, where Rex Caliber is standing in front of an NAPW curtain. The crowd cheers as they see Rex on the video screen set up in the Square. Caliber is eerily calm, but his eyes, slightly unfocused, are wide and terrible... REX CALIBER: I'm standing here as a man that will not die. I think Ravager is an organ donor, so I need to apologize to anyone on donor lists. When he does die, his organs will be so damaged from tonight's beating that he will be the same dead as he is alive. Simply put, useless. You Ravager, added gas to the wildfire that is my Path of (BLEEP)ing Rage. I suppressed my anger for for the well being of Team Caliber. But their not here... and let's just say, I'm one mad mother (BLEEP)er. Rex begins pacing. REX CALIBER: You see everyone is wanting some of me. Everyone knows that I'm the real deal, the man you need to beat to be elite. I am the most popular wrestler in this whole company. Why is that? Because night in and night out, I produce action that these people crave. I get put against (BLEEP), after (BLEEP), and more often than not... I shut them up. The fans live vicariously through me. Tonight they'll live a special match. They get to be apart of LEGAL ASSAULT. You thought the Taipei Death match was brutal, and it was. You saw War Games. You watched me and Devastation nearly kill the each other. But tonight, I bring it all. I make history in the most violent match NAPW will ever see... until Rex-Static II. I will take out the first piece of the Winchell Administration. The hired thug will be gone. The actions out there will be off the charts. Ravager, this ain't business. This is personal, it got personal when you attacked me and aligned with Winchell. I pushed you and you pushed back. Just remember that Minstrel isn't here to be your scapegoat and tonight.... I'll leave no doubt who the man is. Blood on grass and body parts on concrete... Bob Ravager will be Totally Annihilated! Caliber storms off camera. Cut to the outside again, and a familiar song --- once cheered --- begins. Growing. Growing. Growing. Until... IT KICKS IN. "PATH." And that means only one man... FRANK WARBURTON: The following contest is set for one fall, and is the STREET FIGHT MATCH. Introducing first coming down the aisle, he weighs in at two-hundred and ten pounds. From Brooklyn New York, wearing black... he is RAAAAAAAVAGGERRRRRR! Ravager ignores the boos of the fans and steps into the ring, casting a cold gaze over the gathering. BILL HEWSON: This man was once one of the most popular men in NAPW. But he followed the cash, he followed the easy way out, letting men like our new Commissioner Joseph Winchell or Longshot buy him out. JACK JONES: A tiger can't change his strips, Bill Hewson. Once a hired gun, always a hired gun, and these fans are dumb for believing he'd changed. BILL HEWSON: It is a match a long time in coming, and... LISTEN TO THAT REACTION! "MORE HUMAN THAN HUMAN!" Rex Caliber nearly EXPLODES from the entrance curtain --- and this one is on! Ravager meets Rex Caliber in the ring, and these two men are going toe to toe! Caliber! Ravager! And it's getting stiff, both men holding nothing back! They're fighting back towards the entrance way, Ravager tries to send Ravager over the guardrail, Caliber reverses the irish whip and Ravager goes flying into Jared Walsh's lawn chair, crushing it beneath him. BILL HEWSON: I hope Jared didn't plan on returning, but look at this! Rex Caliber has that garden hose of Walsh's, and he's choking Ravager out with it! The bad blood between these two men is unbelievable! JACK JONES: And it's no rules, that sadistic Caliber. He's the one who wanted it, because he knew he couldn't beat Ravager in a straight match! Choking a man out with a hose! And Caliber continues his PATH OF F'ING RAGE, using the hose to haul Ravager up and send him flying back over the guardrail. Ravager is getting to his feet, shaking his head, and here's Caliber with a big clothesline sending Ravager over the OTHER guardrail! They're in the crowd, the screaming, roaring, wild crowd on this hot day! Caliber pounds on Rex, and suddenly Rex is asking for a weapon, anything, he grabs the first thing thrust at him... an umbrella? Somebody's carrying an umbrella on this hot day? Caliber shrugs and breaks it over Ravager's skull! Ravager trying to back off, get some space, but Caliber hooks him by the tights and takes him where HE wants to go--- JACK JONES: Not the waterfall! BILL HEWSON: Caliber has Ravager and oh! He just tossed him into the Epcor Waterfall pool! Ravager is down and Caliber with clothesline into the water! JACK JONES: It's a street fight, not a water fight! BILL HEWSON: Rex Caliber has Ravager, he's going to german suplex him in the pool --- low blow by Ravager! Ravager knocks Rex out of the pool... wait a minute, what's he doing? Ohmy God, Ravager is trying to drown Rex Caliber! Ravager bends Rex over the edge of the fountain, forcing Rex's face underneath the water. Rex's hands flail as the crowd grows more and more angry --- suddenly Caliber gets his OWN mule kick, catching Ravager right in the nuts. Rex breaks the water, gasping for air as Ravager tries to overcome the pain in his babymaker. But it's Ravager who gets up first, firing hard shots into Caliber's ribs. The White Collar Assassin getting his hands dirty today, irish whipping Caliber through the fans... and wait a minute, what the? The fans just lifted Rex Caliber up! BILL HEWSON: Can you believe this, Jack Jones! The fans... are body surfing Rex Caliber around the ring! JACK JONES: This is a street fight, not a mosh pit! BILL HEWSON: Easy Jack, you're repeating yourself. Ravager trying to get to Caliber, but the crowd isn't letting him! Caliber finally gets down, there's probably 12 feet of fans between Rex and Ravager. Ravager pushes his way through the crowd, and suddenly --- he's out in the open. He looks around, disoriented at the sudden parting of the crowd. WHAM! Caliber explodes out with a steel chair in his hand, blasting Ravager in the face with it! Ravager goes down hard! Caliber roars for the crowd, picking Ravager up... what's this? GOOD LORD! STYLES CLASH! STYLES CLASH! He calls it the Planetary Collision! On the concrete, and Ravager's chest and face are all marked up with scrapes from Churchill Square's unforgiving surface. Rex grabs Ravager, fireman's carry? He's taking him to the ring! The dump to the safety mats around the ring, Caliber follows and rolls Ravager into the ring. JACK JONES: FINALLY that maniac brings it into the ring! BILL HEWSON: It is a street fight, but it's not Falls Count Anywhere. Rex with a cover... Ravager kicks out! But now Rex Caliber is in position to put this one away, he's got Ravager on the top turnbuckle, going for Total Annihilation -- and oh, the thumb to the eye by Ravager. JACK JONES: The equalizer, Bill Hewson. BILL HEWSON: Watch out here... Ravager off the middle turnbuckle with a flying lariat! You don't see Ravager flying, but he is a master of the ring. He can and will use every inch to his advantage --- and what the hell is this? Ravager... he just pulled something out of his boot, what is that, oh my God! It's Piano Wire! And he's got it wrapped around the throat of Rex Caliber! He's choking the life out of the man! JACK JONES: And it's ALL legal! Ravager is behind Caliber, holding the piano wire across Caliber's throat while wearing a sinister grin. He puts a boot in Caliber's back for good measure. Referee Dick Kiebiech asking Rex if he submits, but Rex gags and shakes his head. Caliber trying to get up, trying to twist his way free... he grabs Ravager's wrists in his own! He's trying, he's turning, Rex turns around and gets free of the piano wire. He fires a right hand to Ravager, sending him reeling, hits the ropes, RUNNING STO --- Ravager saw it coming, swings behind, he's got the fingers locked, going for the LAST RESORT dragon suplex, Caliber struggling, Ravager can't seem to get it fully, WHAM. Ravager changes tactics and just DRIVES the brutal crossface shot across Caliber's oft-broken nose. Ravager fires the forearms into Caliber, driving him down, and then suddenly... the CRIPPLER CROSSFACE is applied to Caliber! WITH PIANO WIRE ACROSS THE FOREHEAD. BILL HEWSON: Good LORD, Ravager is digging that strand of sharp wire into Caliber's forehead! He's splitting him open, and now... he applies the Crossface fully! Caliber might tap out! JACK JONES: MIGHT? He's bleeding over the ring, and it's a street fight! There's no frigging rope breaks in an NAPW street fight! There's nothing Caliber can do but TAP OUT. BILL HEWSON: There's no quit in Rex Caliber, but he is in a bad way here. He's reaching for the ropes, but why? You're right Jones, there's no rope break in this contest! It's a pinfall or a submission, but no DQ... and if you can't DQ a man, you can't enforce a rope break! Rex is, indeed, straining for the ropes. HE MAKES IT. But the referee waves his arms, to a wave of displeasure from the crowd, saying "no, I can't break it!" Caliber however, seems to ignore the ref, he's pulling on the ropes with his free hand, his other arm locked between Ravager's legs... Caliber is right in the ropes now, and he's grabbing the ring apron? Caliber pulls the ring apron up, yells in pain, and then pulls forward one more time, falling half out of the ring. Ravager loses his grip on the hold, tries to lock it in, but Caliber is able to fall forward to get out. He's half-buried by the ring apron, but that won't keep Ravager off of him. Ravager steps to the outside, he grabs Caliber's foot and yanks him forward KRANG. Ravager, meet SHOVEL. Caliber gets up, wielding a freaking shovel on the outside! And he brings it DOWN on Ravager's back with a thud! Caliber tosses the shovel into the ring, then reaches under the ropes again... he pulls out a barbed wire baseball bat! Ravager is on his knees, getting up, Caliber from behind --- CALIBER IS DIGGING THE BARBED WIRE INTO RAVAGER'S FOREHEAD! BILL HEWSON: Barbed wire cutting into flesh, Ravager is busted wide open, and this match is unbelievable! JACK JONES: And these sick fans LOVE it, they love watching Rex Caliber make another human being BLEED. Edmonton! Yeesh! BILL HEWSON: Caliber just rolled Ravager back into the ring, Ravager is losing blood over the canvas... the barbed wire bat, brought down across Ravager's own back! There's a cover, ... only two! Give Ravager credit for kicking out there... both men are bleeding, and this contest has just gotten uglier. JACK JONES: What, did Tiffany show up? BILL HEWSON: Will you be serious? No, Rex's advisor, Ravager's FORMER manager Tiffany Macintyre has not shown up. Rex picks Ravager up... Hiiiiigh cradle suplex! That gets two. Rex is up, he makes the THROAT SLASH sign. That means it's going to be OVER. Ravager is up, Rex locks his hands around the waist... Ravager with a standing switch, GERMAN SUPLEX OF HIS OWN! Caliber no doubt going for the big release German Suplex, but Ravager got the better of him there. Ravager looks down... and with a sick, bloody evil expression, sets his eyes on the barbed wire bat. He hoists it up, then waits. Waits for Rex Caliber to stand up and face him before bashing it across the man's forehead. Caliber drops down, and now Ravager, Good Lord, he brings the bat down across Caliber's back, rolling it along the man's flesh, pinpricks of exposed blood cells angrily turning bright red. Ravager holds the bat high, garnering serious boos, then tosses it aside. He picks Rex up, and hits a drop toe-hold that sends Caliber face first into the bottom turnbuckle. Ravager stands behind Caliber, a hand on either rope... BILL HEWSON: We've seen this before, he calls it The Silencer... good LORD. Ravager puts his foot to the back of Rexs's head, viciously kicking the man's face into the bottom turnbuckle in a curbstomp fashion. Rex slumps forward, drained. Ravager looks over the crowd with the hint of a smirk on his face. The crowd responds with a huge round of boos. Ravager ignores them, hauling Rex up... Northern Lights Suplex! ONE! TWO! Th--- Rex kicks out! Ravager gets up, arguing the count. Kiebiech is adamant, so Ravager tells him to get ready to count again. He's got it! LAST RESORT! ONE! TWO! TH--- BILL HEWSON: HE KICKED OUT! HE KICKED OUT! How in blazes did he kick out from the Last Resort? JACK JONES: I don't believe it! Ravager folded him up on his neck... damn you, Rex Caliber! BILL HEWSON: Ravager, that cool demeanor of his notwithstanding, must be furious inside. Ravager's got one more, bigger move in his arsenal... and it looks like he's going for it, Jones! Caliber set up on the top rope, he's in for some Instant Karma! Ravager has Caliber up, he follows up, hooking the face lock, but it's Caliber who suddenly comes alive, holding the top rope with his hand. He slaps Ravager in the ribs, getting the man down... and knocks him off! Rex jumps down and charges Ravager, punching him in the face repeatedly, driving Ravage across the ring! Hoisted to the turnbuckle! REX CALIBER HOOKS RAVAGER! BILL HEWSON: And wait a minute, here it comes, TOTAL ANNIHILATION! Ravager is down! The cover! ONE! TWO! THR----- Oh my GOD, Joseph Winchell just nailed Rex Caliber from behind! The commissioner of the NAPW --- he's got a vendetta against Rex Caliber! He just stopped Caliber from winning the match! And ... Rex Caliber is PISSED OFF. JACK JONES: Run, Joseph, run! Caliber stands up, looking right at Joseph. Winchell gulps, because while he may have broken the pinfall... he didn't hurt Caliber much. He just made him ANGRY. Caliber chases! Joseph ditches out of the ring, and a bloody Rex chases him! Joseph is going to town, he's heading into the crowd, Rex catches him by the belt-loop! Yank! And now Rex, Joseph is on his knees on the outside, pleading, and it's KRUSTY. KID. PAUL. He blasts Rex from behind, and Tommy "Bad Mood" Deathrow is right behind him. It's the Sexy Adorable Drunks beating the tar out of Rex Caliber... Ravager is out, he's getting in on it too... BILL HEWSON: And this match is becoming what we all feared it would become, a gang beating orchestrated by Joseph Winchell! This crowd doesn't like it one bit, and... PROMO! PROMO JUST HIT THE RING! The masked brawler, Promo, is attacking Ravager! There's a right for KKP! One for Deathrow! He wants to settle with Ravager after being nearly run down last week on Tuesday Night Fights! JACK JONES: But it's still three on one, Hewson, no matter how good Promo thinks he is! Haha! Promo is holding his own against the Drunks & Ravager, for how long... meanwhile, Joseph Winchell has rolled Rex Caliber back into the ring, and he's choking him! Joseph with a maniacal look on his face--- suddenly! He's yanked off of Rex. Spin around on his feet, and Joseph Winchell looks into the eyes of his rival since the beginning... BILL HEWSON: WAYNE WRIGHT IS HERE! My... wow! I didn't expect the kid to have these kind of guts! He's coming to settle with the Commissioner! Wright stalks Joey, shaking his finger HOGAN-STYLE... RAVAGER. LAST RESORT. Wayne Wright has no chance, dropped on his head. Meanwhile on the outside, Evan Cartwright has joined the party! He blasts Promo from behind as VIOLENCE INTERNATIONAL makes good on their name, gang-beating Promo on the outside. In the ring, Ravager demands Joesph "give it to him." Joseph reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out... JACK JONES: Hewson, are those HANDCUFFS? BILL HEWSON: I don't like the looks of this, Ravager now has a pair of handcuffs...and wait just a damned minute! He's got Rex Caliber by the wrist, good Lord! Ravager just cuffed Caliber's hands behind his back! This crowd is NOT happy by this turn of events! Joseph is all smiles now, yelling "Yes! Yes!" as Ravager hovers over Caliber, who is on his knees, hands cuffed behind his back. Ravager... slides out of the ring and shoves Bill Hewson off of his chair! He folds it up and CLANGS it against the ring post, then slides into the ring. Winchell, with an expression of glee, steps away and watches as Ravager decapitates Rex Caliber. BILL HEWSON: For the love of God, he can't move! He can't defend himself! Ravager may have broken the man's jaw, his nose, good lord! Rex Caliber is a bloody mess --- JACK JONES: A bloody twitching mess. BILL HEWSON: And oh no, come on, that's enough, not AGAIN WHAM. BILL HEWSON: Ravager just... he just smashed the face across the back of Rex Caliber's head! And... oh my god, he's covering him! Kiebiech looks unsure, but Winchell tells him to count, my god it's a three count! Ravager just beat Rex Caliber, but it took... And this crowd doesn't like it one bit! JACK JONES: That might be an understatement, Hewson! Listen to these nuts, they're louder than the radio! On the outside, the Sexy Adorable Drunks are holding Promo, who still won't stop fighting, for Evan Cartwright to slap his face. In the ring Ravager stands tall over Caliber, and Joseph Winchell kneels down near Rex's bloody face, gloating, and the crowd chants BULLSHIT, BULLSHIT, BULLSHIT... And begins to knock down the barricades JACK JONES: Hewson, MOVE! BILL HEWSON: This crowd is turning ugly --- oh my god --- * The handcam near the ring spins around, seeing the pissed off NAPW fans, the drunks in the crowd who aren't usual wrestling fans. Liquor, the heat, the result have combined to make the crowd into a MOB, who are now busy trying to get to Ravager. Ravager & Winchell look on, and then BOLT down the entrance way. Violence International is right behind them as the crowd --- a fist flies--- and then it breaks down! Hewson & Jones are scrambling, suddenly the picture goes to Static --- The picture cuts back in, this time from the higher camera, it's clear the cameraman near ringside got knocked down, and it's... it's an unfortunate replay of the Playoff Riot! The MOB is a writhing mass, people fighting, and then the window of the Three Bananas cafe gets bashed in --- Sirens blare! The cops on hand for the event are overwhelmed, but here come the SWAT! Tear gas! Riot cops! The picture remains on, but this wrestling show... is totally overwhelmed! FRZZZK.
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